Abria's Pursuit
photo/Bryce by T.O
- AUTHOR: Travelling One
- EMAIL: travelling_one@yahoo.ca
- WEB: http://www.travellingone.com/
- SUMMARY: Setting: Daniel's office. Mission: To save a village. Stress Level: High.
- CATEGORY: Drama, angst
- SEASON: Any
- DISCLAIMER: The theme and main characters have been borrowed from the Stargate SG-1 tv series, and are copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. This story has been written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
- 04/04/02
Hidden away at his worktable, Daniel Jackson stared at the doohicky once more with increasing frustration. He'd been working at it nonstop for over nine hours, and was getting absolutely nowhere. The pressure to decipher this thing was immense, what with the Goa'ulds expected on Abria in the very near future. If they had any chance of helping that civilization build one of these supposed glider-conquerors, he had to accomplish way more than this, way faster than this. He sighed in dire frustration and sat back, taking a break of approximately three minutes... all that he could afford.
They hadn't known what to expect before 'gating to that planet. A planet like many others, at first glance, with meadows and hills and wildflowers, the UAV had shown a large population only four miles from the Stargate.
Walking the path to town, the foursome had encountered sheep, hairy ponies, and hoards of highly curious children. They'd only hoped the adults would be as open.
And they'd been welcomed. With great gusto and pleasure, as a matter of fact, until they realized that these people had been praying for salvation right about the time the four had walked through the Stargate. Salvation from the yearly Goa'uld air invasion, occurring right about this season and expected within weeks. The locals spoke a clear derivation of pure Latin, and soon made it understood to Daniel that the air attacks were only for "show", to keep their civilization in line and obedient; six death gliders would regularly put in an appearance, attack and destroy one village each year, thus keeping the others loyal, believing, and afraid. Only, they weren't loyal. They didn't believe, nor did they want to be obedient. But yes, they were afraid.
For years, since the Man had left this device, they'd tried to figure it out, understand it. But they just couldn't read the writings, nor did they understand this advanced type of technology.
The Man, SG-1 had come to realize, had been Machello.
_____
A body appeared in the doorway, or maybe it had been there for a period of time. He'd been so absorbed, locked in such intense concentration, he never would have noticed. What difference did it make, anyway. If someone had the time and patience to stand there staring, that was their problem.
"Have you eaten since we got back?" Jack's face materialized on the body, and he seemed concerned. "Looked up? Blinked?"
"Couple of times," Daniel responded, gazing back down at the large cylindrical screen in his hands, littered with minuscule buttons and dials. "Blinked, I mean."
As Jack entered the room, his eyes wandered to the mess of papers, copious notes, books spread out around Daniel, on the chairs, floor, and desk. "Got anything yet?"
"No. Nothing. I mean, we know these symbols correlate with each of these graphic machine parts, and put together, the parts should form a whole entire anti-death-glider mechanism, earth to air ... or Abria to air, I mean. Of course, if we can build one for them, we can build one for us…" he let his thoughts trail off. They all knew that this machine was important to both worlds; only for Abria, time was ticking down before another village would be destroyed.
The device was like a small computer, similar to another device Machello had left behind at the SGC, although differently shaped. Only, when this one was turned on, realistic 3D ... make that 5D, fairly holographic with sound and smell ... representations of death gliders would pour over and above the screen, and flying projectiles, obviously shot from perceived ground level, would spray out and dissolve the gliders, as if they'd never existed. Considering what came next into view, all observers at the SGC had concluded that this demonstration was the equivalent of a screen saver. It was what the program played next that was important.
Bits of objects, machinery, parts, all labelled in some foreign language, would float around and above the screen, rising visually into the air around them, creating large and smaller sections of this anti-glider projectile device. Symbols coagulated around the lefthand circumference of the cylinder, corresponding to and explaining, Daniel was certain, each part. But no one had been able to figure out how to fit the parts together to make a working whole. Actual construction would have to come later. As of now, it had fallen upon Daniel to try to figure out the steps from the symbols involved. If he could do this much, perhaps Sam could then have a go at the technical aspects.
Machello had appeared on Abria as a traveller some years ago, bringing with him knowledge of their annual tormentors, along with many questions. He claimed to have the means to aid these people in ridding themselves of the Goa'uld, and had said he would help. He claimed to have been fighting the snake race for many years, had watched his wife betray him, and he himself had been saved by his own people who had given up many of their lives for his own. The Man sheltered by himself for long periods of time, remaining upon their planet for several weeks. The people of Abria thought he was staying for the Goa'uld attack, and hoped he would finally be the one to rescue them from their impending devastation. But suddenly, he had disappeared through the Stargate, saying he would return, but he never did. The device he had left behind remained the object of animated discussion and dedicated study. But the locals found the workings to be beyond their means of comprehension.
And so, each year, they would gather in the town center and pray for salvation, for the Man to return this time, or for another being who could decipher the instructions.
SG-1 had been their only hope in years.
_____
The scene on Abria replayed itself within Daniel's memory.
"Please, Doctor Jackson? You must take a look at what we have here. We know it is of the greatest importance."
That wasn't in question, as far as Daniel was concerned. He had no doubt that what Petele-reona was holding was vital to Machello in some way, to his battle with the hated Goa'uld; it was just that Daniel was not about to take sloppy chances with any of Machello's inventions. He'd experienced a couple of these first hand, and wasn't about to risk another one backfiring.
"Uh…I really think you should be careful with that," he had tried to warn.
"It's alright, Doctor Jackson. We have been handling it for several years. It poses no danger."
Daniel had reluctantly taken hold of the object, and immediately had seen its great potential.
"Now do you understand, Doctor?" The eyes penetrating his had been filled with desperate pleas for aid, a hope that had been rekindled, a concern that stretched straight from his own heart to those of all his people. For Petele-reona had seen three generations of his land and family persevere against the unwarranted attacks, and he was certain the next village to go would be his own.
O'Neill had offered the use of the Stargate, to send these people to a safe haven during the attacks. But the townsfolk had correctly pointed out that they could not evacuate all the people of their world, as they did not know for certain which village was to be targeted next. The process seemed to be absolutely random, and they had only their feelings and the words of the town soothsayer to go on. Besides, they also knew that if the chosen people were no longer available, the Goa'uld would instead seek revenge on another desperate village.
"Please, Doctor Jackson?" The eyes searched his once more, begging for help from the only hope they had had in so long, help from a man who not only had known Machello, but who had actually shared the Man's body. Doctor Jackson, the scholar who was credited with deciphering and speaking more languages than even existed on the whole planet of Abria, and who was able to communicate with their own kind.
Daniel had been unable to resist those eyes, that look of hope from a man who had undoubtedly seen so much more than himself in the long years that he had lived. "I will do my best," he had answered. "Between myself and Major Carter, who is a technical whiz," Daniel smiled, "we should be able to come up with something."
And so the man had taken Daniel's hand in his, and had kissed it. Stunned, Daniel had felt the bond of a civilization he had only just encountered, mingling with his own blood in such a way that they already were kin. A civilization that was threatened by the very beings that had hurt Daniel so much; a people wanting only to survive in peace. And he knew he would work on this and succeed, if it was the last thing he ever did.
_____
The words played back through his mind, as Daniel sat there vaguely listening to Jack. And then his three minutes were up, and he had to get back to his project.
_____
Sam reached out gently to massage his shoulders, as Daniel scrunched his neck up from the stiffness of sitting at his desk for twelve consecutive hours. It was already 10 pm, and he hadn't left his office since the team had returned mid-morning. Sam had finally come with some sandwiches and juice, figuring Daniel'd had enough coffee for one day.
"Thanks, Sam."
"Daniel…don't you think you should take a break? You won't solve this if you can't concentrate."
"Maybe not. But so far, my concentration's fine. The Abrians don't have that much time, Sam."
Carter pondered her friend. There was nothing she could do, she'd had a look at this program and this was Daniel's league, not hers. The symbols needed deciphering, and Daniel could learn to recognize them more easily than anyone. Memories recalled another time he'd been so desperately yet futilely searching for the answers embedded in a strange device, also belonging to Machello…another time when Daniel's frustration had caused her heart to weep. A time when the very life he'd been trying to save had been his own, and time had nearly run out. Daniel, you can't die on me now… a plea so pitiful, yet so vibrant. Penetrating to the soul of her very existence, she'd been determined not to lose her friend…yet there had been nothing she could do. She had been helpless.
She knew Daniel was feeling just as helpless now.
For a while, she sat beside him, looking at the meaningless clues flashing past on the strange screen. Pieces of a puzzle fitting together into a new holographic image, only to fall away when success loomed close at hand. And again, Daniel would sigh, close his eyes, compose himself, and start again.
"I'll do this, Sam. I will."
"I know, Daniel. If anyone can, you can."
Daniel glanced at his colleague with a potential smile. "You're comforting, you know. Even if I don't believe either one of us."
"Daniel…the Abrians can't be in better hands. I believe that."
"Unfortunately, they're my hands. I can't let them down, Sam."
Sam knew Daniel didn't need her words of support, they didn't mean anything at this point in time. So they sat, in lingering silence, Daniel working feverishly, oblivious to the world outside his office, Sam looking over his shoulder from time to time. The two friends continued this way until the early hours of morning, when finally Sam gave in and headed off to catch a few hours of sleep.
_____
They found him in the morning, asleep on the floor by his desk, head on his jacket.
"What the…Daniel? Daniel. Brought you some coffee and orange juice."
"And bagels."
"…huh?" Daniel's head shot up, unused to waking up on the hard concrete floor of the SGC. He remembered how uncomfortable his chair had become, how he had needed to close his eyes for ten minutes…"Damn. What time is it?" He rose stiffly, stretching in the seated position, before reclaiming the now cold spot on his chair.
"It's 7 o'clock, Daniel." Sam had had only four hours sleep herself. She put the small bag of breakfast on top of a book.
"What time did you crash?" Jack tried to place the beverages on his friend's desk, but was unable to find an unused spot. Daniel reached out for the coffee.
"Don't know. Around 5, I think."
"Did you get anywhere?" Sam was hoping his previous night's vigil hadn't been entirely wasted and fruitless.
"Well…I keep reaching this same point, then everything falls apart. The images seem to slide into place according to my formula, I don't know yet what all the symbols mean ... I mean, Machello might've even made them up, like he did the other language ... but they seem to have a definite pattern. He's used a type of hieroglyphics that he's borrowed from the Egyptian, yet transformed in consistent ways. Just when it seems that I'm beginning to understand, something goes wrong and the whole program restarts."
"Well Danny…keep working on it. You'll decipher it." Jack was more than certain.
"Yeah…just hope it's not too late by the time I do."
Jack held out the juice, as Daniel placed his coffee mug on top of a closed note pad. "We'll get back to you later. And Daniel?… You can only do what you can do. Don't get down on yourself."
Daniel just grunted as the others left the room.
____
Okay… this was something… a definite correlation here, only one more piece and this might be it…Daniel held his breath as he tapped in the final sequence of symbols; he'd never gotten quite this far before, never been quite this close… four hours working this morning, and he was now pretty sure he had most of the labels figured out. All Sam would then have to do would be to figure out some materials to build this thing with, and together they could decipher the power source revealed in the second program…one set of symbols left, and if that connected into the final piece of this machinery…
Daniel pressed what he thought to be the correct and final sequence.
The screen lit up with components of some technological puzzle, moving and fitting together, flashing, then flying outwards to visually fill the space around him. The series of gliders appeared in what seemed to be sky; the completed anti-glider device spraying its contents sky high, as the gliders disappeared into oblivion.
"Yes!" Daniel couldn't hold back a grin. "Yes, yes, yes!"
Grabbing the device along with copious notes, he ran most of the way to the lab Sam was working in. Grinning, out of breath, he slowed down only upon entering the room. Sam was alone.
She looked up, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "You did it?" She already knew the answer.
"Yes!" Daniel plopped down beside her. "I have all the correlations worked out, and the sequence. As we put each segment into place, you can have a closer look at its composition." Daniel was feeling relief for the first time in over 24 hours, and he hadn't been aware of the tension in his neck and shoulders. "Here, I'll reset it, and you can have a look piece by piece."
Daniel pressed the reset switch, confident now that he could start from scratch without difficulty, thanks to the in-depth notes he had accumulated. A step-by-step instruction kit.
The original symbols reappeared on the screen, once again with parts in full holographic format. Daniel had begun to point out which series of symbols went with which component, when he halted in mid-sentence.
"What's wrong?" Sam looked up to see Daniel's face twist in confusion, a frown disguising the exuberant mood of a moment ago. "Daniel?"
"I don't recognize this one." Desperately, Daniel punched in the sequences quickly, those he had figured out and recorded over the past several hours in his stuffy office. But there was one left over, and now the program flashed out his failure. "But… that can't be… that's impossible." The disappointment in Daniel's voice was unbearable, frustration clawing its way into his throat, stinging his eyes. "It all fit before…"
Sam rubbed his arm. "Maybe it's something Machello put into this program intentionally?" She offered. She hated to see Daniel this upset, after he'd worked so hard.
"That doesn't make any sense. He's the only one who'd've been using this." Daniel rested his head in his hands, the weariness seeping into every access point in his body. "I'll go back and try again. I probably just missed recording one the last time."
"Daniel, take a break. Go get some food…please?" Sam rose. "Let's go together."
"No. Thanks Sam, but I want to get back to work. Somehow, I missed recording this piece, and it could fit anywhere. Maybe this time," he added. "it won't take so long. I have the rest worked out." Dejectedly, Daniel strode out of the lab and headed back to his own closed-in space deep in the heart of Cheyenne Mountain.
____
Daniel continued working throughout the afternoon. Try as he might, that one wayward piece of equipment did not want to conveniently fit into the whole, and if he'd made an error in labelling something else along the line… the rearrangement possibilities seemed infinite.
The pressure put on Daniel was coming from all areas of the base as well as off base, now. The Pentagon had called General Hammond to make it clear how important this item was to all concerned, and NID was already threatening to confiscate it. Hammond had barely restrained himself from verbally slaying his latest contact, but had ended up only in buying Daniel a little extra time.
Daniel only hoped he could eventually figure it out at all; nothing Machello had yet done had proved to be simple.
"Sir," Daniel had waited patiently for General Hammond to finish his phone call. "Maybe I should go back to Abria. At least I'd be away from NID."
"No, son. I won't risk you being there if the Goa'uld arrive. We're about to contact the planet to make sure all is still well, with Lt. Mowat helping with the translations. You're welcome to join us in the control room."
"Yes sir, you know I will."
The wormhole splashed open, and the young Bon'ea came into view of the MALP that had been left near the gate. "Daniel? Jack?" came the tentative voice.
"Yes, Bon'ea, it's Daniel. Tell Petele-reona I'm here."
"Yes! I will!" the teenager ran off.
Breathlessly, just a few minutes later, Petele-reona's face appeared blurriedly onscreen.
"Daniel?" He was lively, hopeful. "You have figured out the mechanism?"
"Um…" Daniel glanced at the floor. "No, Petele-reona."
"Oh. We were so hoping…"
"Yes. I know. I'm sorry. But I might be close, I mean, I've been able to group most of the symbols and get some of the sequencing, it's just taking some time to fit it all together. I've been working on translating the labels, so once the organization is established, the rest should come easily," Daniel wasn't ready to admit defeat, yet he didn't want to get the Abrians' hopes up unnecessarily.
"Daniel…we do not have much time." Petele-reona was gazing straight into the camera, despair and pleading in his earnest eyes.
"I know that, Petele-reona. I'll keep trying."
"You are our only hope, Daniel. I know you will succeed." Willing Daniel to accomplish the as yet impossible was something that the Abrians were intent upon doing. They continued to gather in their town square each night, praying for salvation. And now, the prayers included Daniel.
The wormhole was shut down from the SGC's side, with the promise of further contact in 24 hours. Daniel headed back to his office, feeling the weight of more than one world resting on his shoulders.
_____
"So bring that thing with. You need to eat." Jack wasn't leaving him alone this time, nor would he listen to any more excuses.
Daniel had paused once more. Sighing, he rose from the position he'd been captive in for so long, capitulating. He'd take the device with him.
Now, in the commissary, Daniel was demonstrating to the others how he'd abstractly constructed the glider-destroyer.
"Daniel…Eat. Put that thing down."
"I will, Jack, just let…"
Jack swiflty grabbed the surprisingly light device from his friend's hands. The annoyed look it drew didn't fluster him in the least. "Eat. Then I'll give it back."
"Jack, that's extortion."
Jack threw Daniel an innocent look. "I'm good at that." He continued consuming his shepherd's pie.
Shaking his head and giving in, Daniel ate in silence. He might not have the gizmo in his hands, but nothing could stop the movement of hieroglyphic-like symbols from scurrying ' round and ' round in his brain.
_____
He'd finally given in in other ways as well. As the night grew later, and each try just returned Daniel back to the beginning of the program or threw an extra piece of the puzzle at him, he had finally conceded that he needed sleep, much to the relief of his three teammates.
But lying awake wasn't helping, and every time he drifted off to sleep, more thoughts would arrive to wake him again. His partial dreams were stuffed with numbers and deformed hieroglyphs and little bits of strange and highly technical machine parts flying around chasing each other.
The day surfaced bright and temperate, but the climate deep down inside their mountain was the same as usual. Daniel's uneasiness and anxiety was growing more intense, while the knowledge that he just might not be able to crack this hounded him with increased mocking.
And just as he was about to consider giving up, the last piece of the puzzle once again fell into place, and the screen and immediate vicinity of the room lit up with components moving and fitting together, flashing, as the series of gliders appeared in what seemed to be sky; the completed anti-glider device spraying its components high into the atmosphere, and the gliders disappeared into oblivion.
This time Daniel was a bit more reserved.
He had all the labels recorded this time. He'd done it ever so carefully, certain that he'd missed none. This time, however, he would reset the program while he was still alone, just in case…
Hesitantly, Daniel pressed in the buttons that would take him to the start of the program. As the screen cleared and he readied himself to try again, he stared with trepidation at the components once again appearing before him. The symbols came into focus, one by one, as Daniel recognized these, but only some of them…
What the hell was going on?
As he stared at the new set of mutated hieroglyphics, barely perceiving, hardly believing, realization dawned. Daniel suddenly understood what he was looking at.
_____
Daniel headed for General Hammond's office, after having requested a meeting with all of SG-1. The group was already assembled when Daniel halfheartedly strode into the room.
Jack studied Daniel's face. He had assumed the meeting was to explain his success, not concede defeat. One look at Daniel told him this was neither, but something wasn't quite right.
"I assume you have news for us, Doctor Jackson?" General Hammond had probably drawn the same conclusion.
"Uh…yes, um,… I do."
"What is it, Daniel?" Sam was growing concerned. It wasn't just the tiredness in her colleague's eyes, or the weariness in his posture. There was something else, a resignation. Was Daniel giving up, the way he was ready to give up on his deathbed, Machello's form consuming him, a useless computer in his hand programmed in a language known only to the man whose body was quickly killing him? That had been the first, and only, time Sam had ever seen Daniel give up.
Daniel paused for several moments. His gaze lingered on the table, then the floor, before meeting first Jack's eyes, then General Hammond's, and then flicking away again. "I know what this program is."
"What?" Both Major Carter and Jack O'Neill asked in unison.
"Nintendo."
"What?" Both voices chorused again, echoed by a third.
"Well, not Nintendo per se, but… a game. A highly advanced game," he added. "Holographic Solitaire." Daniel stared at the awed and confused visages around him. "Look," he shrugged. "Machello was alone a lot." So now he was apologizing for the man.
"So it's… not real?" Sam was trying to comprehend.
"No. Machello devised this game that he could sometimes win, with a lot of concentration and determination, not to mention time and skill. Sometimes the computer ...this machine... would win. There is no anti-glider device."
"Shit…oh…Sorry, General." Jack was frowning.
Daniel slumped dejectedly in his chair.
"Are you certain, son?" General Hammond had complete faith in these team members; his question was one motivated more by an unwillingness to believe, than of a doubt that the scientist was correct.
"Completely, General. I've won twice."
Jack could see only one benefit of this turn of events."Why don't we give it to NID, General? Tell them we haven't figured it out yet." Jack wished he could witness those men and women spending the next two years trying to decode a Solitaire game.
Hammond chuckled, without feeling the humour. "We have to inform the people of Abria first, Colonel."
"That would be my job," Daniel spoke softly. Oh, this was going to be so not easy."Permission to return to Abria, Sir."
"Permission denied, son. We can inform them via the MALP. I think the least we can do is leave the MALP there for a few weeks, to follow up on their situation."
"Sir…I really think this should be handled in person."
"I know you do, son. However, I disagree. I don't want any of my people on Abria, until the danger has passed." He continued quickly, seeing the impending argument. "That's my final word, Doctor Jackson. Come on down to the control room, if you'd like to be part of this."
Daniel bit his lower lip dejectedly. "Yes, sir."
_____
Once again, eager faces contortedly filled the screen, desperation and hopefulness combining into one. At least twenty individuals had gathered around the MALP.
Daniel swallowed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gaining the courage to do this.
"Daniel? What is your news? You have deciphered the mechanism?"
"Um…yes, Petele-reona."
There was cheering in the background, but Daniel quickly extinguished the light in his new friend's eyes.
"The news isn't good. I'm sorry."
"I don't underst…"
"Please, let me finish. There is no anti-death-glider device. There never was. This is just a game, Petele-reona…"
"No, Daniel, this is not a game…believe me, it's very real!"
"No, … no, Petele-reona, that's not what I mean. The situation is very real, for you. But this device ... it's nothing but a toy. It kept Machello occupied when he was alone. He made it up…to play with."
Silence on the other end, on a planet thousands of light years distant, of people joined to the SGC through a four-member team and a disheartened Daniel Jackson, receiving the news that there was no hope, that the Man had deceived them, however unintentionally, that their prayers for salvation would go unheeded for infinite generations to come.
A quiet voice spoke. "Thank you Daniel. For trying."
Daniel couldn't respond. After a moment of trying to compose himself, the bearer of bad news, messenger of broken hopes, letting them down as gently as a piano dropping through a window, he turned and walked away. One day, they would contact Abria again, if only to find out which village no longer existed.
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