The third set of talks had finally concluded, and Nelson felt that they were finally beginning to make progress. The Conclave representative they'd met this time had actually seemed receptive to what they were saying. Still, it was slow work. Nelson stepped out of the tent with Desousa, feeling drained and frustrated, only to come face to face with Tony.
"Boss!" He looked up the road to the nearby mountains, but didn't see any of the other Survivors anywhere. "Is Hargrove…"
"He's apparently doing fine." Tony assured him. "We still have basically no idea what happened, but the Deuca aren't keeping a lid on his condition, so you'll hear about any changes probably as soon as I do."
"Well, no news is good news for now, I guess." Desousa said. "I take it you want an update on the talks?"
Tony nodded. Nelson belatedly realized that he was carrying a P90, strangely enough. They'd run out of ammo for almost all Earth-based weapons during the last mission.
"The Hovakians have a trio of leaders they call the Conclave. Each one represents one of the nomadic tribes their ancestors used to be. We've met with them three times now, ironically, and I think they're finally starting to get the picture." David shrugged. "At least I hope so."
"Do they understand what happened in the mines?"
"Mostly. They've been on this planet almost four hundred years now, so all they've known is Nereus' minions being in charge. Still, they've got an oral history that goes back further, describing the feudal nature of the Goa'uld in general. They saw the explosions on the side of the mountain, and later the Jaffa corpses, so they assumed another Goa'uld had killed Seraus and taken over. Naturally, their first instinct was to present themselves to the new Goa'uld and start kissing ass. It's taken this long to convince them that we're human, like them, and don't expect anything of them at all." He hesitated. "Well, aside from staying away from the mines and the Stargate, I mean."
Tony nodded. "Sounds like things are going as well as we could expect. Let me know if they want anything from us for a change. Maybe we can recruit from here, eventually, but I plan on giving them some time first, to adjust to being free."
"Speaking of Seraus, sir-"
"He's still under heavy sedation." Tony cut him off, smoothly. "And until and unless Hargrove is up to continuing the interrogation, that's how he'll stay. I'll set up a rotating guard shift for him on Savannah for the time being, just to be safe." Tony looked at Nelson. "Desousa will have to handle these talks without you for a bit, Ahardt. I've got a new job for you. Come on." He nodded at Desousa and turned to head back up the road.
Nelson shared a meaningful glance with Desousa, and spoke up. "Actually, sir, before we go, there was something we had to ask. About the symbiotes." He said, a little more formally than he'd planned.
Tony stopped and turned back, looking grim. "I thought you might ask about that. With the chaos of the latest mission, and us setting up shop here on Hovak, we haven't had the time to do any serious analysis of them. The Boule requested that the symbiotes be sent to their planet, and I agreed."
"And the moral considerations just disappear along with them? Sir?" Desousa seemed to deliberately hesitate before adding the 'sir'. He spoke quietly, but with obvious strain in his voice.
"They're Goa'uld, Captain. They are what they are." Tony responded firmly. "I'm not entirely comfortable with this, either, but until we meet a Goa'uld who actually seems able to see us as equals, I won't show them an ounce of leniency!"
He took a deep breath. "The Deuca are far better equipped to study them than we are, and they made a direct request. Remember, they're our lifeline here; we need them. We might be able to continue without them, but I'd hate to try." Tony paused briefly. "We won't try to capture any more symbiotes, but the ones we had stay with the Deuca. Understood?"
Desousa nodded, unhappily it seemed, and stepped back inside the tent.
On their way back to the mines, Nelson could make out some activity on the road out to the 'gate. He couldn't make it out at this distance. "What's going on down there?"
"We're using those… Kep-things to move the 'gate closer to the mountain. If we're going to use this planet as a base, I want to be able to keep a closer eye on the 'gate."
Nelon thought back. "Kep… you mean those bug-shaped Goa'uld APCs? The Ox?"
"Ox?" Tony gave him an amused look.
Nelson shrugged. "It's what I call them."
"Heh. Ox it is, then. Anyway, Blake figured out how to drive them, so I sent some people to haul the ‘gate into the forest on the east end of the mountain. The ‘gate weighs almost sixty-four thousand pounds, so moving it by hand really wasn’t an option, but with both of the… Oxen, it’s easy enough. Also, the trees near the mountain are tall enough that the ‘gate should be hidden from the air, and there’s enough naquadah in the area that they’ll have a hard time scanning for it as well." He gave Nelson a serious look. "If the mountain’s attacked, we should be able to escape through the ‘gate."
It was a little depressing to think about just how easily this mission they'd set for themselves could come crashing down around their heads, but Nelson had to admit to himself that it was a wise precaution all the same. He shook his head. "So what is it you need me to do this time, boss?"
In answer, Tony hefted his P90. "Got a new toy for you to try out."
-.-
Gingerly, Nelson raised the 'P90' again, and squeezed off a few more shots at the distant stump. Through its scope, he could see the faint green glow of charged plasma fading into the stump. He held the trigger for a few seconds, long enough to empty a clip on a real gun, and the pseudo-gun stopped firing at exactly the right time. He could hear a faint hissing noise coming from it, as, apparently, internal mechanisms set to work cooling down the plasma projector inside. By the time he'd be able to reload a real gun, this facsimile was ready to fire again.
It was impressive workmanship, he had to admit.
"This is the new weapon the Deuca gave us." He announced to the others. "They've obviously gone to great lengths to make a gun that's as close to ours as possible, at least in appearance."
Cayo, Jahu, and the Survivors' best sniper, Chanehi, stood nearby looking at the gun with varying degrees of awe.
"Since it 'fires' a tiny glob of plasma, though, it hits a lot harder than ours. Otherwise, it functions exactly like the intars you trained with. I want you each to try it in turn. I've set up some targets, even some swinging ones, in the forest. Use it to the best of your ability. If it passes our 'worthy' assessment, as the Deuca said, there will be more of them for us to use later on."
They all looked at the gun desiringly, but Nelson was pleased to see they used it in order of rank, or at least their versions of rank. Cayo, being in charge of SR-1, went first and Chanehi, without even an informal rank, went last.
Over the next half hour, they each put the alien gun through its paces. They even used it, at one point, to cut down a small tree with sustained fire. They tested its durability, too. Cayo had already fired it a few times back on the Deuca planet, so instead he got into a tussle with Jahu, using the gun as he would in any desperate situation, blocking and pummeling with it. Chanehi dragged it through mud, even immersed it in one of the nearby ponds, and it still worked. Jahu also suggested shooting it with a staff weapon, but Nelson put the kibosh on that plan in a hurry. They only had one, after all.
In the end, they all had the same conclusions about it that he'd had. It felt like the real thing, and handled like it. Despite the fact that the plasma 'projectile' was technically a liquid, it had slightly longer range than the Earth version. Also, for the same reason, its accuracy was slightly better as well. Some of the targets he'd set up were metal plates from the mines, and some were actually Goa'uld armor taken from the Jaffa corpses before they'd been buried, but none of that could stop the plasma shots. Each projectile kept burning for about a half second after impact, in nearly every case. Still, because they burned so quickly, there was very little chance of starting a fire with them, making it almost exactly the same gun. Except that, like the intars, it apparently never ran out of ammo.
When he finally dismissed them, Nelson had mixed feelings. He didn't know how it worked, or how to fix it if it broke. He'd never seen it jam, and wondered if it'd blow up if it did. Only using it over the long term could settle that in his mind, but he had to admit it'd be nice to use a P90 again in combat, even if it wasn't exactly the same thing. He knew what he had to recommend to Tony.
-.-
With some trepidation Tony entered the Goa'uld lab, wondering if he, too, would end up being hauled out of here on a stretcher. Blake and Haley were still hard at work analyzing the Ancient device on a table in the middle of the room, with the latter casting worried looks in the former's direction every few moments. Blake seemed to be fine, though. His breathing had noticeably improved over the past day or so, and he no longer seemed as pale. He still favored his side when he thought no one was looking, but less often, from what Tony could see.
Tony stepped up to them, and caught sight of Govis and Prem in one corner. "So. Any progress yet on figuring this machine out?"
"Sort of." Blake responded. "This really is remarkable, Tony! This technology has been dormant for millions of years, but still seems to be working just fine! They built this sucker to last."
"It is a long-range communicator, Tony," Haley continued for Blake, giving him an amused glance, "but it's not like anything the Goa'uld have."
"I thought the Goa'uld learned everything they know from Ancient designs. They claim it's their own, for the people they trick into worshipping them, but they're really just using what the Ancients built, right?"
"That's true, as far as we know, but Blake and I assume that their information comes from much more recent Ancient devices."
Tony shook his head. "I don't follow. You'll have to dumb it down for me." He resented having to say that at all, but it was true.
"Think about it this way, Tony." Blake stepped around the table to him. "To travel faster than light speed, the Goa'uld ships open a hyperspace window and fly into it, using subspace to get around quickly. When they get wherever they're going, they just power down the drive, and drop back into normal space automatically. Their communications work almost the same way, but the window they open is more like cracking a window to let air in. It lasts a tiny fraction of the time and takes a fraction of the power."
"Like using a Stargate to send a transmission?" Tony was starting to understand. "Because you're not sending a person, you don't need to keep it open for longer than a second or so, right?"
"Exactly."
"All right, but what does that have to do with this machine?" He pointed at the Ancient device.
Blake and Haley looked at each other. "It's called the Soma Voco, actually." Blake put in. "We got a basic translation protocol working now that it's active. The closest translation would be 'Whispering Voice' in English."
Tony gave him a flat look, and he coughed. "Anyway, what makes the Soma Voco so interesting is that it was apparently built long before the Ancients developed hyperspace travel!" He looked around at the others, excited.
"Wait a minute, here." Tony shook his head. "Why would they need a subspace communicator if they couldn't move faster than light? Wouldn't that be like trying to put up a cell tower before you've built your first wheel?"
Blake snapped his fingers. "I didn't say they couldn't move faster than light; I said they didn't have hyperspace travel! They found another way to get around!" He lightly touched the cylinder's edge. "This little beauty uses a kind of FTL communication that the Goa'uld definitely don't use. They've probably never even heard of it!"
Tony suddenly found that his breathing had quickened. "Would they be able to detect it?"
"If this works the way we think," Haley responded, "the Goa'uld wouldn't have even the slightest clue it was sending transmissions. Even if they did, they'd have no way of monitoring them, not without one of these!"
Tony began running possibilities in his mind, and had to drag his attention back to the reason he'd first come. "Let's get back on track here, people. What exactly did this… Soma thing do to Hargrove?"
Haley took that question as well. "Seraus' notes on this thing were extensive. He figured out that the opening on the top was some kind of security verification, and guessed that it was looking for some kind of trigger to activate the rest of it. Because he didn't know what it was looking for, though, he was never able to get any further. Something Hargrove did got past this thing's security, and it activated. We don't know exactly how messages are recorded and sent, but based on his hallucinations, I'd say it was another mind-to-machine interface. It linked to him automatically, and tried to communicate with him. We obviously have different brain chemistry than the Ancients did, though, so he passed out."
"So it was trying to communicate with him?" He looked at the Soma Voco suspiciously. "Are we talking about some kind of artificial intelligence here?"
Blake shook his head. "Hargrove told the docs that he heard the same messages over and over again. I'd say there was a pre-recorded message in here that he picked up when it turned on. Because it was sent straight into his brain, he could only hear it when he was unconscious. In a way, he's lucky." Blake added. "If the message had been different enough to what humans can process, he might have heard nothing at all, or he could have suffered brain damage. We must be pretty similar to the Ancients, at least neurologically speaking."
Tony'd had enough by now. "Ok, bottom-line it for me. Is Hargrove ok, and will he stay that way if you find a way to use this thing in the field?"
Blake and Haley shared another glance before she answered him. "Yes to the first question, and probably yes to the second. We won't know for sure until we build a transmitter and start testing it."
"You can do that?"
She smiled. "Oh, yes. We've been able to find schematics for a portable communicator in the Soma Voco's transmissions. Some of the parts are made of naquadah, naturally, and we can probably find everything else we need in this facility. That is," she added suddenly, "if we read it right, I mean."
Blake nodded at her encouragingly.
Tony smiled back at her. "Good job, you two. Get started. This could be very useful in the long run."
-.-
There was a slight rustling of the tent as Cayo stepped inside. Now that the materials from the Redoubt had been brought to Hovak, and set up in the forest just outside the mines, Hargrove and the rest of the wounded had been moved here. Archie had seemed slightly less upset with these conditions then he had been with keeping them in the mine entrance. Cayo stood, not quite upright, given his stature and the low-slung tent.
"I wanted to talk to you before you were returned to active duty, sir."
Hargrove sized him up. There was obvious tension in his posture and voice. "You're angry with me."
"I am! You put me in a terrible position on Palchan, sir. You forced me into making that decision, and then kept it a secret."
"Have you told anyone, either?"
Cayo grimaced. "Of course not. All the same, I still don't know exactly what you want from me!"
Hargrove slid his legs off the bed and stood up. He wasn't quite a match for Cayo's height, but he still seemed to stare the other man down. "I told you my reasons back on the planet. They're still relevant." He broke their gaze for a moment, looking down and feigning remorse. "I regret putting you on the spot like that, believe me, but real leaders don't often have the luxury of time. They have to think through their decisions quickly, and give orders firmly without any sign of hesitation or weakness. That's what you need to be."
"If you intend for me to betray the Colonel-" Cayo began.
"No, no, nothing like that." Hargrove assured him. "Colonel Marcus is an excellent leader in his own right. He should stay in charge, for now, and if he falls in battle, I guess I'm the next in line. Still, sooner or later, we'll be gone, and these people will look to you for the courage to continue on."
"How can you be so certain of this?" Cayo demanded. "What makes you think your people will not continue to help us for years to come?"
"We'll try, certainly." Hargrove agreed. "But if my people find a way to shut that barrier down, we'll all just disappear on you. I need you to be ready, in case that happens. To carry the burden my people will drop on you. To do the impossible and rid the galaxy of the Goa'uld forever!"
"Will you not help us even if your people return home?"
This time, Hargrove didn't have to fake his remorse. "Our leaders on Earth are self-interested. They don't care what happens to you or the rest of the galaxy. Worse yet, every tau'ri here but Blake and Haley are sworn to serve them, and they will call us home when they can. You may have to stand without us, and I intend to make sure that you can."
Cayo's face went blank, but his stance still showed the same tension. "A different form of training, then?"
"If it helps you to think of it like that, then yes."
After a few seconds, Cayo turned stiffly and left. Hargrove sat watching the tent flap move in the wind for a while. I guess that went as well as I could expect.
