STARGATE: EXPLORER

by Lady Grey
Alpha/Beta by Jude

PX9-1017

The First Night

The People crept stealthily into the opening of the crevice, keeping toward the walls, hugging the shadows, almost invisible in the darkness. The leader gave signals to two others, who moved into position near the visitor’s head. They created a field to induce and hold him in an alpha state, while another conducted a full-body scan. When they had finished, they retreated from the cave and gathered together on a cliff top facing the opening, far enough away that they could not be heard.

“He is not one of the Ancients,” said the leader, scanning through the data. “There are anomalies.”

“His companions were also not Ancients,” another observed. “They were primitive. We determined from the study of their crude tools and weapons that his people were no threat to us. That is why we removed the cloaking field on their campsite after the second group returned to their world."

"Might those who died here have been in the service of this one? He was most important, the one the invaders took.” The first speaker's data readout needed a boost, and she brightened the glow of the screen inside her visor to make it easier to read the information. She looked closer, then removed her helmet in surprise. “He is in possession of the Ancient’s device. The council must be informed. They will want him watched closely.”

“He is an enigma that bears studying before we decide what to do with him,” a third agreed.  “He is more advanced than his companions were, yet more primitive than the Ancients.”

“We will test him to determine what threat he may pose to us before we show ourselves,” the first decided.

“He has seen us already,” another observed, “and paid us no mind, as if he did not recognize us.”

A shuffling sound drew their attention to the canyon floor outside, and the group watched a scritchna amble across the stony path, sniffing the trail where the traveler had walked, poking its elongated nose into the crevice to take a deeper whiff of his scent.

They watched, judging the Ancient-who-was-not-Ancient on his reactions, in an effort to determine his nature. If he could not protect himself, he might be killed or eaten, and they would never know his true purpose in visiting their world. They would not interfere unless it appeared that something might be gained from a relationship with him.

“We might let him disappear without his ever knowing we exist,” the leader declared.

“But he has the Hub, and may take it with him.”

The first shrugged. “We cannot use it. Only one such as he can unlock the Wheel of Worlds. It would be useless to us.”

“Then that is good reason to earn his trust, if we can.”

The first crossed her arms, cocking her head in consideration. “We will see what he knows of us. If he brings a message from the Ancients, we will hear it. If he does not know us, we will test his character and determine if he can be trusted. If he believes he can gain nothing from us, his actions will be true. Send word to the council to advise us. We will learn what his purpose is on our world, and if he has come to hunt us, we will finally have our war.”

The People were not as innocent and accepting as they had once been. They had discovered too late not to trust too easily, but they had learned the lesson well. The stranger among them would be scanned and tested, his memories searched, recorded, and studied, and soon they would have the truth of who he was and what he wanted.

After that, they would decide if he would live or die.

The sound of rolling pebbles awakened Daniel, pulling him unwillingly from sleep. When he opened his eyes, he saw only darkness for a moment, realizing the rest of the day had passed and night had fallen outside his tiny cave.

And he was no longer alone.

A snuffling sound sent his senses into full alert. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the landscape outside, faintly lit by the stars. Tiny lights flickered on and off in the distance, the faint illumination in constant motion, swooping down and rising out of sight. He thought the luminescence looked like fireflies, but their swarming also alerted him to the presence of something else outside the cave, the source of the noise that had awakened him.

It had four stubby feet, and one of those limbs reached in where he lay. Long, sharp, curved claws scratched at the rock right in front of his face, and he jerked backward, wedging himself further into the crevice. The creature’s claws were scraping along the rock floor, coming out empty, looking for prey.

Daniel took that moment to reach for his supply bag, digging out his stolen zat with trembling fingers.

A long snout pressed into the crack, searching for him. A light-colored tongue licked toward him, slurping along the rocks he had squeezed against.  The animal apparently liked the taste of him, and licked some more.

He shot it.

With a squeal of surprise and alarm, the thing crumpled and thrashed on the ground for a moment, then lay still. Knowing it was either playing possum or actually stunned, Daniel shot it again to make sure it was dead, then one more time to disintegrate the carcass. He didn’t want it attracting more predators to the area.

He crawled to the entrance of his hiding place and slowly, carefully peered out, glancing around for any other night hunters. The fireflies remained distant, nearly invisible against the night sky and the rocky landscape, but they seemed to pose no threat. The night was otherwise quiet as Daniel wedged himself back into his little hidey-hole.

After a few minutes, the firefly light show faded to blackness, and he decided the bugs had gone off somewhere else. That gave him some peace of mind, so he took the time to eat and drink a little before returning to much-needed sleep.

August 21

Until he made it back to the camp the following morning, Daniel didn’t let himself think about anything but survival. The SGC transport vehicles were still there, but the bodies of his slain companions were gone. The supplies that had been unpacked were also missing, probably carried off by some of the local fauna, but the items stored in the ATV lockers were still there, as was the stuff that had been packed in the 4X4 mule.

He now had stores of fresh water, purification tablets, MREs, extra clothing and boots, survival gear and medical supplies. He located an extra pair of glasses he’d packed as a back-up, a journal and pen, and a few precious reference books. There was also a spare laptop, complete with a naquadah power cell that would last for two years, extra small arms and a supply of ammo.

He could survive with these tools at his disposal.

There was still no sign of pursuit, but he kept watch on his surroundings as he explored the camp for provisions and cleaned up a little, aware that he also needed to defend himself against wild animals, such as the anteater-thing he’d killed the previous night. He sat down and made himself comfortable with the device he’d stolen to see if he could crack Sam’s code. He wasn’t sure what it actually did, but he’d either figure it out or destroy it, just to keep it out of enemy hands.

The device was plate-shaped, about five inches in diameter. It looked to be made of raw naquadah, the same dark grayish material that formed the stargate. Inscribed on its face were all 39 glyphs on the ‘gate, arranged in three concentric circles just like a DHD, with a small blue stone in the center, rather than a red one like the actual devices carried. Around those three circles were additional keys inscribed with the characters Daniel had come to recognize as the writing of the Ancients.

He examined the edge of the device and found several holes he thought might be ports for downloading or uploading data. On the back of the device was an alphanumeric arrangement of keys, inscribed in Ancient characters. Above that was a view screen in the shape of a half-circle.

It took him a few minutes to figure out how to turn it on. Once activated, the screen lit up with a dark blue background and azure lettering, a faint hum emanating from the device. A message popped up in English, accompanied by a single chiming note, requiring a user name and password, along with a warning that all data would be destroyed after three attempts to access the information without the correct cipher. 

Daniel smiled. “Good girl, Sam,” he murmured quietly. He leaned his head back against a low cliff and thought of her, trying to figure out what she’d use for this password. He’d learned some of her others through their close association of the last ten years, because they’d all been aware that death was a constant companion, and they’d never known when they’d leave the base and not return.

Fishing was one of them, a private joke between Jack and the rest of SG-1. Indian was another, for her beloved motorcycle. But what would she have used to protect the SGC database?

As he pondered that, remembering all they’d been through in the past ten years, tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks. He set the device on the ground beside him and pushed the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids. He didn't want the distraction of memories and the emotions that accompanied them; not now. He just wanted to do his job.

Daniel gripped his head in both hands as the unwanted conclusions pushed themselves into the forefront of his mind. 

Jack was dead. He had been at his newest post in Washington DC, serving as head of Homeworld Security. Sam had been at Area 51, researching an alien device that had been brought back on SG-1’s last mission, so she was gone, too. Mitchell had been vacationing in Vegas, and Vala and Teal’c had been at the base. They had all died while he was on his last mission. No one was left, because…

The brunt of the memory hit him like a staff blast.

Earth was gone, vaporized in an explosion of light.

Daniel sucked in a deep, sharp breath and roared in soul-deep agony. This time, as the shattering loss ripped through him, there was no sheltering darkness rising up to offer him a place to hide from the truth. He wept and keened, thrashing against the rocks, trying to hold himself against an anguish so great, it threatened to tear him apart.  

Deep in a paroxysm of grief and loss, his body shuddered, and he flung himself onto hands and knees. His stomach rebelled, and he vomited from the violent spasms. Reeling, lost, he crawled away from the foul smell and wiped reflexively at his mouth.

“No!” he sobbed, assailed again by the memory of what he’d seen, his face wet with tears, head hanging. “It’s not true! Earth is still there. It has to be. It has to be! This can't be real.”    

Only he knew it was. In the core of his soul, he had felt it when his planet exploded. His people were gone, all but a handful of them who had been off-world on missions, at the Alpha base, on board the few space ships elsewhere in the galaxy, or in Atlantis.

Now he was alone, and he would never again go home.

“Oh, God,” he sighed wearily. He sat down beside the low cliff and curled up into a ball, resting his shoulder against the rocks. He closed his eyes and tucked his chin against his chest, arms wrapped around his belly, rocking himself, his lament erupting from the very center of his being, “My world is gone. Billions of people, all gone.” 

He covered his face with his palms. No more tears fell, because he had none. He was exhausted from grief, but couldn’t sleep. Finally, he put his hands down and sat there quietly, staring at the camp, watching night fall, remembering.

“All that history,” he whispered brokenly, “gone.”

He would never again see the Great Pyramids or the Sphinx, the Roman Coliseum or Stonehenge. He would never stand in awe of Michelangelo’s massive David or the small but delicate painting of Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. The Magna Charta and Gutenberg’s Bible had vanished, along with the US Constitution and the Dead Sea scrolls. Every ancient treasure that he had seen and touched, every book he’d read, every record of dead civilizations he’d studied on his home world – all of it had vanished forever.

He bowed his head, his heart aching all over again. 

Daniel had lost everything. He had nothing now. His reason for living was gone.

Closing his eyes, he lay down on the ground and stretched out, positioning himself for death. He told himself he would just lie there until he stopped breathing. Dying would be easy now. All he had to do was wait for death to arrive.

“He sleeps again,” observed the leader.

The People moved in and gathered around their visitor’s head.

Another induced the alpha state and began recording his brainwaves, as they had done the previous night.

“We do not have enough language data to communicate with him in his tongue,” the leader stated, a note of sympathy in her voice. “He appears to be in severe emotional distress.”

“He has not raised weapons against us,” offered another, “though we have been in plain sight. He remained wary until he began to search the Hub.”

“What has he found in the data?”

“The reaction we observed has nothing to do with the Hub,” stated the one conducting the brainwave recording. “Look at this memory.” With one hand, he downloaded the data into the communication link between all the team members.

For a moment, there was only silence.

“His world,” whispered the leader in horrified awe. “He mourns the loss of his world.”

“As we do ours,” murmured the third. “It is something we have in common.”

“He wishes to die,” said the first. “I see no threat here. The only one at risk is the being who killed his people.”

She turned to the third, saying quietly, “Send word to the council. We will continue to record his memories as he sleeps, and study his language. If the elders give permission, we will greet him properly. We await their command.”

Her subordinate gave her a bow of understanding and respect, and then she watched him fly off into the night. 

She sat down on a small stone and studied the moonlit profile of their visitor.  His eyes were closed, face turned up to the sky, the strange contraption with the clear lenses still perched on his nose. “He is no stranger to grief,” she observed to her remaining companion. “His has not been an easy life.”

“No, but it has only strengthened him,” said the other with a nod. “He has no fear of death.”

“He has a good heart. Perhaps he will choose friendship with us.” She smiled and cocked her head. “I would like to become better acquainted with him.”

Her teammate chuckled. “He is not your size, friend.”

She shrugged, grinning hugely. There had been stranger relationships in the past. He was pretty, after all, in an alien sort of way. “I will wait to see how things turn out. Let me see more.”

Adjusting the speed of the download, she began to watch the memories scroll across her visor in real time, enjoying the glimpses into this alien's life, as well as the view of an alien world she would never see.

End Chapter 5

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