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Runaway To Hell

Chapter Seven

"Don't you ever sleep?"

Annika glanced up at the half yawned question, though most of her attention remained on the modified whisk she was spinning over the kitchen bench. "Not if I can help it."

Del reached for a cup and poured what Annika had learned was the equivalent of a caffeine fix. He leaned against the opposite side of the long workbench. Though still drowsy he intently studied what she was doing. Professional curiosity made him ask, "What concoction have you made today?"

"This is called toffee." She dipped the whisk, that had the loops of wire cut off so that it was now a bundle of spokes, into the pot of golden liquid the consistency of thick honey. "It's basically just boiled sugar and water." She quickly used a flicking motion with her hand back over the workbench to make the toffee drizzle into delicate strands of spun sugar. Waited a few moments for it to cool enough to keep its shape then peeled it off the countertop and arranged it over the dessert she had been working on for the last few hours. "And this is called a croquenbush. It used to be all the rage a few years ago where I come from."

Del studied the puffs of pastry that were arranged in a conical shape with white and dark chocolate drizzled over them like a spider web. "What have you filled them with?"

"Alternating chocolate and vanilla cream." Annika pushed two mostly empty bowls towards him. "Here, taste."

The chef eagerly dipped a finger into the closest bowl and scooped up a bit of the light filling. After his taste buds approved of the sweetness he tried the second. He had a similar recipe, but every cook had their own little 'quirks' that added variety to the 'standard fare'. "That's really good. You're going to have to write down all these recipes before you leave."

For the last three mornings he had arrived in his kitchen to find the newest member of the crew baking up a storm. Each new creation had been both a visual and taste bud delight and he had used them as a display at the front of the patisserie to lure in the guests. He had already tried to convince her to stay on permanently on the basis of her culinary expertise.

"Sure, if you'd like," she agreed. "But you'll have to go through the ingredients with me. You call some ingredients by different names here."

With the schedule of the ship she had started timing her sleep patterns. Once they broke orbit of a planet there were usually between eight to twelve hours of hyper-light travel to the next port. Veta had explained that while it was only half that to fly direct, they always took evasive measures and used the less traveled routes to ensure the law wasn't tracking them. Those hours were the only time Annika felt safe enough to sleep so that Daniel couldn't trace her. Though their bond was no longer as specific as it once was, she didn't want to take the risk. However, she only ever slept four hours at the most. The nightmares still haunted her and rarely could she nod off again once she woke up from one. To occupy herself she had walked the ship, exploring the corridors and public rooms. The second night she had discovered the back way to the kitchens and the baker in her had practically drooled over the state of the art equipment. Del had been sliding a batch of what had looked like mini cheesecakes into the fridge to set, in preparation for the next port. Annika's fingers had started to itch to create something. Suspecting that cooks galaxy-wide were as territorial over their kitchens as the ones on Earth, she had asked if she could use it. Del was more than willing and had assigned her a corner. Every night since she had found her way there, creating whatever took her fancy. Mixing the batter or icing gave her a sense of normalcy. And for a few minutes at a time she was able to forget about her weeping heart, forget about the silent ticking bomb of the vision that haunted her, forget that she was once a part of SG-1.

"All that work will be wasted on our next port." Veta wandered in.

"It will?" Annika opened the fridge set up beneath the counter and pulled out a plate of extra profiteroles and slid it towards the security man before he got within arm's reach of her creation.

"You're learning," Veta chuckled as he took one to try.

Two days in a row he had snuck a taste from her previous creations before the icing or chocolate had had a chance to set.

He took a bite and gave an appreciative sigh at the sweet explosion in his mouth, then answered her question. "The Ritartans are a very plain folk as far as food is concerned. They won't eat anything as exotic as this."

"So the staff can have it," she shrugged, adding another toffee net to the dessert cone. From the corner of her eye she watched with a hint of amusement as Del handed Veta a mug of the morning brew and almost absently wiped a smidgen of stray chocolate from the side of Veta's mouth. Veta gave the chef a smile of thanks.

Annika couldn't work the pair out. They acted like a couple and yet neither of them realized it. Both denied being romantically involved; their auras told a different tale.

She noticed a slight disgruntled hue to the rainbow of light surrounding Veta. "You don't like this planet?"

"The citizens are fine for the most part."

Del chuckled. "We'll protect you from 'Lose Your Balls Beth'. We won't let her get her talons into you."

Annika grinned, recalling the name from when Mahj'arc's practical joke had been revealed on her first day. "How long has she been chasing you?"

"Two freaking years," Veta grumbled. "The problem is the Ritartans don't acknowledge that homosexuality exists."

"Damned hypocrites," Del muttered. "The male masseuses are kept busy from the moment we open the doors." He should know; he'd been a masseuse for almost two years until one of the guests became dangerously obsessive and had attempted to kidnap him from the ship. Even though Del had been drugged to the eyeballs, he vividly recalled how Veta had rescued him. The security man hadn't hesitated in beating the man to a pulp before snapping his neck. Then those same hands that had dealt out such ferocious punishment had gently tended to Del's defense wounds. Unable to bear the thought of returning to his previous profession, Del had found a new passion in the kitchen and hadn't looked back since.

"Maybe I could help convince her?" Annika offered. "I could play your simpering lover."

Veta gave a snort of laughter. "I can't see you being 'simpering', but we could give it a go."

Annika caught sight of a little blonde head peeking around the door and she gave a smile. "Sachee, what are you doing up at this ungodly hour? Did you have a bad dream?"

The young seer shook her head then almost shyly approached. "I was working on something."

"Oh?" Annika raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Gardin has a robot that was broke, the circuits were fried so I can't fix it. But the power source was still good." From behind her back she produced Annika's iPod that now had a small attachment on the base. "I tweaked it a bit, but now you can listen to your music all the time. It's self-charging." She pressed the control button and the opening notes of Mozart's 'Eine kleine Nachtmusik' echoed around the room. "And I added a speaker so that you don't have to use those little ear things."

Annika blinked at the device, for a moment unable to speak. She had resigned herself to not having access to that little piece of 'home'.

"Are you okay?" Sachee asked worriedly about her gift's reception. "Don't you like it?"

The concern in the little girl's voice snapped Annika out of her reverie. She flashed Sachee a somewhat watery smile and gave the girl a tight hug. "I love it. Thank you."

Happy to see her friend smile, she gestured to the device. "You got some funny music in there and some pretty songs." She then added, "And some sad ones."

Annika couldn't argue with that. "The people of my planet have diverse tastes, depending on their mood." She scrolled through the play lists. "Right now, I'm feeling quite chipper." She pressed the play button and the funky beat of Pink's, 'Get the Party Started' blared out.

Sachee started swaying to the beat and Annika grabbed her hand, spinning her into a twirl. She couldn't help but chuckle as Veta crinkled his nose. Obviously it wasn't the security man's cup of tea. "A little too loud for you, Veta? A little too hip and energetic for your old bones?" She playfully bumped her hip against his side.

"For this time of the morning, absolutely," he replied, though he bumped back. "Do you have anything more sedate?"

"Spoilsport," she grumbled, but searched through the songs for a quieter song. Selected 'The Beach Boys', 'Kokomo'. When he gave a shrug of non-commitment she heaved a sigh and passed the iPod to Sachee. "Here, Sachee, see if you can find something your Uncle will like."

The girl gave an eager nod, up for the task, and for the next half hour while Annika finished the toffee swirls on the croquenbush they were subjected to Sachee's selection of Earth tunes. The music, the likes of which hadn't been heard on the ship before, seemed to act like a lure and others of the ship's crew began to drift in to listen. Ever diligent, Sachee kept an eye of her uncle, looking for a positive response. Veta made a game of it giving exaggerated eye rolls and remorseful sighs at each new song, but when his foot unconsciously began to tap to Elvis's 'Don't Be Cruel', the young girl knew she had hit on the right artist and narrowed the song selection to just his songs.

They had just worked their way through half of the mix of rock'n'roll and love ballads when the next song doused the jovial mood Annika had deluded her brain into. Hearing the opening strains of 'No More' was like a knife to her heart. The melody was a rendition of 'La Paloma', the century old music that had been her and Daniel's wedding dance. The lyrics that had been created for the modern version she hadn't really given much thought to, but now, each word ironically prophetic to her current situation, twisted that knife deeper.

Struggling to fight back the tears that blurred her eyes, Annika reached for the iPod intending to switch songs to anything but that tango. Managed to grasp the device but not before the 'plea' of the chorus threatened to make her completely break down.

"That's quite enough of 'The King' for one day." She pasted a smile on her face. Blindly she hit the shuffle button and Bon Jovi's 'You Give Love A Bad Name' blared out. She barely suppressed a bitter laugh. More prophetic lyrics, at least they were in her mind; a reflection of how she'd left Daniel. But that 'self-assessment' was easier to deal with than the memory of their wedding dance. She stole a glance at the others in the room and was pretty sure that they hadn't picked up on the emotional battle that had slipped through, not even Sachee, who was bouncing around with Del to the new song. Missed the speculative look from Veta over his mug as he sipped his drink.

She was wondering how she could slip away unobtrusively when Mahj'arc entered. He raised an eyebrow at the mini party he walked in on. "Sorry to break this up, but first chime's come and gone."

There were guilty glances at the clock and watches, and the staff began to hurry out to prepare for the guests' arrival.

"Myst, is your masterpiece ready to go out?" Del asked, all business.

She nodded, flicking off the iPod and sliding it into her pocket. "I thought the Ritartans wouldn't approve."

"I consider it a challenge to expand their taste buds," the chef grinned. He started to carefully lift the dessert.

"Here, let me take that," Veta offered, accidentally knocking into Annika as he moved passed her.

Del quickly stepped back, keeping the creation out of his reach. "If you think I'm letting you near this so you can sneak a piece from it, you, Mr Head of Security, are sadly mistaken." Without further ado the chef hurried out.

"So much for chivalry." Veta feigned innocence with a mock sigh. "Myst, I'm going to hold you to helping me out with 'Lose Your Balls Beth'," he called over his shoulder, heading out with Mahj'arc.

"Just let me know when she arrives," Annika agreed, starting to clean up the mess she'd made of her workspace. Wiping down the counter, she managed to banish, at least for now, the last of her rampant emotions, focusing her thoughts on her pupil. "So, Sachee, how about after I clean up here I show you a new meditation technique?"

A A A

"A word, sir?"

Hammond looked up to see Jack half leaning in the doorway. "Of course, General." He watched his 2IC swagger in and drop down into the chair across from his desk. Had worked long enough with Jack to know that the jovial bounce was an act, hiding...he paused noting the slight tightening of the man's eyes...anger. At last, he thought. He knew the gears had been working in Jack's head since the briefing three days ago and it looked like finally something had made him put two and two together. "What can I do for you?"

"I overheard the darnedest thing as SG-3 came back today. It seems their butts were saved by a little snippet from a mystery file with notes of Casper's hocus pocus."

"Is that so?" Hammond kept his face neutral. Technically it was true. Hammond had created a file and it had that lone scrap of paper in it that he had written down Annika's vision intel on.

"Apparently." Jack couldn't help but notice that Hammond hadn't confirmed or denied the scuttlebutt. "You want to know the really funny thing? We went through Casper's stuff with a fine toothed comb and we didn't find any such file."

Hammond had been rehearsing variations of this conversation in his head since Annika had made her ultimatum. "It appeared in my office four days ago."

"Slip your mind to tell us, sir?"

"No, it didn't."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the abrupt answer. For Hammond to be so cagey, it only confirmed his suspicions. "Magically appeared like a ghost, sir?"

"That's one way of putting it." Hammond could see the hedging was too much for his 'tell it to me plain' 2IC. He held up his hand, forestalling the man's inevitable next question. "Jack, be very careful of your wording."

Jack's jaw snapped shut. Some of his anger was replaced by perplexity. He'd been denied intel details during his career due to not having the required clearance, but that had rarely happened at the SGC and never when it had involved one of his kids. And Hammond hadn't been using the 'no nonsense, end of discussion' tone; he seemed to imploring Jack to keep pressing.

Hammond could see his confusion. Holding his gaze he nudged him in the right direction. "I cannot be caught out in a lie to a certain third party."

The quiet statement cemented what Jack suspected. Casper had contacted Hammond. He thought about his next question. "Can we expect an addendum to the file?"

"Fingers crossed, in three days, barring anything urgent."

"Do you need a note taker for the next drop?"

"That's not my call."

Jack slowly nodded in understanding. So Casper wanted her visits kept secret. He tried to think of a way to ask if she was okay without asking directly. His gaze landed on the notepad Hammond was absently tracing his finger along the edges of. "Sir, is the...er...original file...um...intact? Not torn around the edges or missing a few corners?"

Hammond mouth lifted in a half smile at Jack's word substitution. "It's quite crumpled but in one piece. The script is a little shaky but legible for now."

Mentally Jack translated. Casper was a little worse for wear but okay. 'Script'... did that mean her tone had been emotional or was it a reference to her mental state? Either way, Jack was determined to be there for her next ghostly appearance. "Anything we can do to iron it out and get it back to its former glossy glory?"

"I've been asking myself that same question. My concern is that if we try it will burn into ash and we will have lost it forever."

"It's risky, but isn't it best to step in now before time and the elements degrade the quality?" Jack gave his opinion and hoped Hammond would get what he was saying. He hated using double talk. He waited on tenterhooks for his CO's response but felt obliged to add the 'warning'. "And you know how Daniel feels about such scraps of paper."

Hammond debated on the answer for a good minute then spoke. "General, Doctor Felger has been working on a side project for me."

"Really, sir?' Jack barely batted an eye at the seemingly unrelated change in topic. "Is that wise given the man's track record?"

"Doctor Felger does have his productive moments." Hammond reached into his draw and removed two small discs. "These are a kind of panic button. I intend to equip any VIPs going off-world with one in case they get separated or lost."

"That's been known to happen."

"I'd like for you and I, only you and I," he corrected, making it clear that no one, including the other members of SG-1, were to know, "to test them out. Check response times and such before giving the go ahead to make more." He slid one disc across the desk towards Jack.

Jack picked it up, flipping it between his fingers. "When would you like to try it out?"

"My schedule's pretty tight. Why don't I pencil you in for three days from now? Sooner if I have an opening suddenly appear?"

"Sounds perfect, General."

"Are you set to go back to the planet?" Hammond quickly changed the subject to banish their plan from his mind. With everything now set up, including the hidden camera he'd had Siler install in his office, he was determined not to think about it any more until Annika made her next report. He didn't want to risk her having a vision of this 'non-conversation'.

Jack nodded, getting to his feet. "The gizmo is just getting a final once over by McKay. Should be ready to go in fifteen."

"Normal check in time tomorrow?"

Another nod.

"I'll let you get to it then."

A few minutes later Jack was striding up the ramp, dressed in nondescript robes with a cloth satchel slung over his shoulder. Without a backwards glance he stepped through the event horizon to the planet where the rest of his team was waiting.

Three days of following the same routine had Jack winding his way through the maze of buildings to the inn where they had set up base. Their window gave a clear view of the tavern where Boch had stumbled onto Daniel and Annika while they had been planning SG-2's rescue. The barmaid remembered Daniel and he'd turned on the charm, coaxing what information he could about his 'friend' who had joined them for a drink. Boch apparently stopped there regularly, every week or so, and was expected in any day now. Jack, Daniel and Teal'c had been taking turns watching the tavern from both outside and in, waiting for the bounty hunter to make an appearance.

While it was frustrating for the men, it was nothing compared to what Sam was feeling. It seemed that energy based weapons and psychics were not the only things the planet affected. The atmospheric reader on the first day had shorted out after only a few minutes. She had managed to fix it, only to have the power cell go dead within an hour. Something was draining the power of 'conventional' equipment. Their radios may as well have been paperweights for all the use they were. Even if they could work out what was being said through all the static, they were dead before a return message could be sent. Which was one of the reasons they had been reporting back in person to the SGC. The other reason was so they didn't raise suspicion with the locals. The Stargate was constantly being used both day and night; there was little chance to send a private message through even if they could keep the radios working long enough.

When Jack entered the room they'd rented, it was to see Sam staring out the window, not at the tavern, but beyond to the 'parking lot' of ships docked on the outskirts of the town. A speculative look crossed her face. "New theory?"

"Just wondering if the shield doesn't work, if we could somehow tap into the drives of one of those ships. Maybe it would shield the equipment long enough to get some decent readings." She had been studying the anomaly for half a day, trying to figure out why the biggest pieces of technology on the planet, which came from numerous places in the galaxy, continued to work when everything else technological didn't. Had reached two theories. Either the power source of the ships' warp or hyper-light engines were too big to be affected, or the more logical theory was that whatever was causing the draining effect simply didn't affect those kinds of power sources. She sighed, vetoing her own idea. "But then I couldn't be sure that those readings would be true."

"Well, as much of a pain in the ass McKay is, once he gets beyond the whining he does get the job done." Jack pulled out a small cube from the satchel. "Hopefully we won't need your plan B."

Sam's eyes lit up at the device. "He calibrated it like I asked?"

"Yep." Jack's lips twitched. "Threatened to pour a can of lemonade over him if he didn't."

A chuckle escaped as she placed the cube beside the palm-sized atmospheric reader making sure it was close to the cube without touching it. With a start she realized it seemed like a lifetime since she had laughed. Flashed her fiancé a grateful smile. Jack could make her smile in just about any situation. "Did you bring the cable and the key?"

"Would I dare forget?" He revealed a coiled length of cable that split into two at one end, with thin rods at the forked end, from his bag of goodies. From his pocket he produced the old fashioned iron key that they’d taken when Ba’al had altered the timeline. While Sam attached the cable to the reader and uncoiled the rest of the length, he scanned the street below. "No sign of Boch yet?"

"No. Daniel and Teal'c have gone down to scout around." She gave the modified equipment a final once over. "Okay, ready to go."

"Anything I can do?"

"Hold this?" She held out one of the cable ends.

Dutifully Jack took it. "Any particular way?"

"As far from the devices and your body as possible. But don't touch the rod itself."

"Carter, I'm not gonna' get zapped, am I?" He was careful to only touch the rubber safety tape joining the cable and rod together.

"No. At least you shouldn't."

"Your confidence is overwhelming."

"I'm trying to read the energy in the atmosphere. Your body and the device emit their own electrical charge. I don't want you to corrupt the readings."

"Always knew I was hot stuff," Jack quipped.

Sam gave a snort of laughter then flicked the switch on the atmospheric reader, quickly followed by the button on the cube. The reader beeped softly and there was a small flash from the cube as a force field flickered around both devices. She held her breath. For the moment she ignored the readings being transmitted through the rod Jack was holding to the microprocessor. Her focus was on the small set of bars at the bottom of the screen that measured how much battery life remained. In previous attempts they had lost a bar within a minute of the initial energy surge to get the device working. Let out a deep sigh when there was no significant drop in the power and a smile lit up her face. "It works!"

The military couple didn’t try to hide their relief.

"Phase two." Sam slipped the cord that was looped around the key over her right wrist, then gripping the base of the key cautiously stretched her hand out to the force field. There was a slight pulse when her fingers made contact, but the shield recognized the Ancient crystal embedded in the iron key, and her hand passed easily through. She let the key dangle and started tapping at the tiny controls of the reader. Her smile grew wider as number sequences began to scroll down the screen, the data uncorrupted. "Bingo."

Jack was patiently still holding the rod away from him. "So now what?"

"Don’t move, sir. I’ll use the readings in here as a baseline. Then I want to take a series of full readings outside. Near the ‘gate to see if naquadah affects it, in the field where Annika astral traveled, and also near the shipping dock."

"Why the dock?"

"I'm working on two theories of why the ships' engines are not affected but the shields are. The basic principles of how any engine, whether it be hyper-light or warp drive or plasma injected, work are the same, but it's different from how shields work." Her voice tapered off as she considered whether it was worth the attempt to convert the complex, technical explanation of the differences into 'Jack-speak', then shrugged vetoing the idea. "Taking readings from there will tell me if it's to do with the engines or if the dock is a kind of pocket where the atmosphere is relatively normal as we know it." She gestured to the second rod lying on the floor by the bed. "I’ll use that one to take ground readings."

"How long do I have to stand here like a scarecrow?"

Sam studied the data on the pad. The magnetic field had already changed resonance three times since it had been switched on. She also considered where she wanted to conduct the other readings. Ideally she'd like an hour at each point, but being out in the open it was unlikely they could remain that long without drawing attention, especially around the docking port. In a lawless town such as this one, it wasn't a good idea to be snooping around anywhere. "Thirty minutes?" she compromised.

He gave a nod. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"No." The colonel shook her head. "Any news from the base?"

"Nothing to speak of." At the last second he remembered not to shrug moving the rod. He hoped he sounded like his normal self and that Sam didn't pick up on the lie. To his relief she was too engrossed in reading the data to notice any slip he may have made. To be safe he changed the subject. "Carter, when you work everything out and rig a do-hicky to replicate this place, what's going to stop it from screwing with the base computers?"

"Well, we'll be setting it up in one of the shielded isolation rooms. Hopefully that will contain the resonance just to that room."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We'll find a way to make it so."

Jack hid a grin at the slight puckering of the scientist's brow, something that always happened whenever she was trying to puzzle out a new problem. Distraction complete, he thought smugly.

"Maybe we could expand this temporal field," she mused, flicking a finger towards the cube.

The device had been McKay's pet project since he had finished modifying the Goa'uld memory discs for Annika's visions. He'd been trying to replicate the temporal field that had surrounded the box Ba'al had used to transfer messages to his younger self when he'd altered the timeline. It had taken almost two months for him to come up with a working prototype. He had backwards engineered the device using the circuitry that was beneath the crystal in the key that effectively worked like a remote garage door opener. Jerry-rigging a source of power to maintain the shield had been relatively simple. The main difficulty had been locating a receiver chip to be installed on the power source to create the force field that the key would recognize. He'd searched every Ancient device they had, but couldn't find anything with even remotely the same composition. He'd experimented using different crystals for both the controller and receiver chips, but that had been a total failure; it hadn't even caused a spark let alone a force field. Unable to duplicate or substitute the crystal, he had finally taken the risk of removing the key crystal and very carefully slicing the flat stone in two. It had worked up to a point. After a few experiments they had discovered that whatever was inside the field didn't exist out of time like it had on Ba'al's original box. However, the results had taken them down a new path in shield technology that hadn't been considered before.

A few minutes later Daniel and Teal'c arrived back, reporting that there was still no sign of the bounty hunter. Their frustration at the waiting game was somewhat lessened by the obvious success of the shield Jack had brought back. A half hour after that, Sam and Jack were heading out into the town to do the other series of readings.

Daniel stifled a sigh, as he watched from the window, his friends making their way through the crowd to the Stargate. He understood the reasoning behind the decision that Jack had to be the one helping Sam. Continuity was important for the data and there was a possibility his body energy was affecting the readings. To have himself or Teal'c take over could corrupt the conclusions. And he knew that someone had to remain to make sure they didn't miss Boch. But being cooped up in the room with nothing to do except wait was fraying his already taut nerves.

"I believe it is my turn to stand watch," Teal'c said quietly.

"Knock yourself out," Daniel gave a wry grin, relinquishing his position to the Jaffa. It was a sign of how desperate they were that they timed their watch shifts to the minute. It gave the semblance of doing 'something' even if it was just staring down at strangers. Daniel didn't debate the issue though he was sure it was his turn. He knew the warrior was having the most difficulty out of all of them remaining 'idle'.

He took Annika's journal from his leg pocket and sat on one of the beds, leaning against the headboard. If he'd read the entries once he'd read them a hundred times. The tortured words of his wife were practically branded into his memory. He'd noticed something through his many readings of the journal. The being may have implanted the initial ideas, but it used Annika's own memories and thoughts to reinforce it. Flicked through the pages to one particular entry.

That fear she wrote of, Daniel knew in his gut was real. He knew the 'logic' of not being able to have a vision of 'everything' meant very little when it involved a loved one. The fear just made her more vulnerable to the being's manipulation.

"Daniel Jackson."

Teal'c's voice pulled Daniel from his thoughts and he went over to stand next to his friend. Wordlessly the Jaffa pointed a few meters down the street and Daniel felt a jolt as he instantly recognized the cocky swagger of Aris Boch. "Finally!"

They waited a few moments to confirm that the bounty hunter was going to the tavern. Before the tavern door had stopped swinging, Daniel was scribbling a note for Sam and Jack telling them where they'd be, and the two of them headed across the street.

Daniel barely paused to let his eyes adjust from the sunny glare to the dim lighting inside. The tables were mostly empty at this time of day and it wasn't hard to single Boch out. He strode up to the table with Teal'c a step behind him. "I believe it's your turn to buy the drinks."

The bounty hunter wasn't surprised. He'd known something was up by the way the barmaid had pretended nonchalance when she served him. Hadn't had a chance to speculate when the two familiar faces entered. "Who got caught this time?"

"No one," Daniel shrugged, sitting down.

"So to what do I owe the displeasure?" Boch reluctantly shifted his seat aside to make room for Teal'c. Noticed that neither man tried to box him in and that they kept both hands above the table. Boch wasn't feeling quite so friendly. He folded his hands across his chest, his fingers caressing the butt of the gun hidden in a holster around his ribs.

"We're looking for some information."

"You think because you coerced my assistance before, I'll rollover and do it again?" Boch scowled.

"If you consider doing the right thing coercion, that's your moral demon to deal with," Daniel replied. "We're willing to pay if you have what we need."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Which is what exactly?"

"On your previous ship you had a weapon," Teal'c answered. "We wish to know from whom you acquired it and who manufactures it."

"I had many weapons before it was blown up to save your mik'ta," Boch drawled at the Jaffa. "Can you be a little more specific?"

Teal'c gave a description of the assassin's weapon, pulling out the sketch he and Sam had drawn for more detail.

Boch took the piece of paper, studying it. He recognized the gun. Gaining that 'prize' had been a bonus to one of the best bounties he'd earned. The question was why was the ever moral SG-1 looking for the signature weapon of the Liquidator Guild of the Wafaris Province? From the corner of his eye he studied the two men. The Jaffa looked tense, but then again he'd never known him to look even remotely relaxed. However Jackson looked like something a Reetou had dragged in. Ignored the trickle of concern as it occurred to him that according to the bounty brief on SG-1, Jackson these days rarely gallivanted the universe without his psychic. "Where's that spitfire lover of yours?"

"She wanted to be spared this reunion." Daniel congratulated himself on his sarcasm. He knew the subject of Annika would come up at some point; he just hadn't been prepared for Boch to just throw it into the conversation.

Boch didn't miss the flash of utter torment that flickered across the archaeologist's face. Despite his best intentions the annoying compassion, which only ever reared its head in the presence of SG-1, blurted out. "She didn't become a target, did she?"

Teal'c pounced on the bounty hunter's slip up. "Then you do know the origins of the weapon."

Boch mentally kicked himself, though he quickly recovered, making it seem like he had been waving the carrot deliberately. "That kind of information doesn't come cheap." The Guild was a damned secretive lot. It had taken him months to infiltrate just their outer circle. Anyone found to be asking questions about their members usually wound up with a free demonstration of their services.

"So is Kerrigon still trading in slaves?" Daniel asked innocently. "I wonder how he would feel if he found out that you helped in that little escape of his merchandise a while back?"

"And I wonder what he would do if he found out that the team with one of the highest bounties on offer is wandering the streets here?"

"Do you think that we have come here alone?" Teal'c arched an eyebrow.

The stand-off drew into minutes as both sides weighed the risks. How much each side was bluffing, how important the information was and how much it was worth.

Boch absently fingered the sketch. Information dealing could be as lucrative as bounty hunting, though in some cases it was infinitely more dangerous. No matter how small the snippet, its value depended on just how desperate the 'buyer' was. The fact that SG-1 had tracked him down, exposing themselves in a town where the primary source of revenue was bounty hunting, was a clue to how much they wanted it. This situation could be a little gold mine for him. In his head he considered what kind of price he could ask. What would be the most beneficial to him?

Daniel saw the calculating gleam to the bounty hunter's eyes. "What's your price?"

"Lucky for you I'm feeling charitable today." Boch took a sip of his ale. "You will owe me one. At some point in the future I will require SG-1's unique services. You're to come, no questions asked."

Daniel and Teal'c exchanged glances. That was a hefty price considering they had no idea what sort of information Boch had. Despite the risk of the information being disproportionate to the payment, both men could see that the other was willing to pay it.

"For that we'll need more than outdated information from six years ago," Daniel said slowly, trying to level out the playing field. "We need details of a specific target."

Boch considered the counter offer. He still had a good contact in the Guild, however it might take a bit of effort to track her down depending if she was in the middle of an assignment. "That could be possible, though it might take some time."

"How long?" Teal'c demanded.

"A few days," Boch shrugged.

Daniel mulled over the possible consequences. He didn't like the idea of being indebted to anyone, let alone Boch, yet he would do anything to get Annika back. But there was no reason to put the entire team at risk. "I'll come when you call in the debt, on the condition that it has nothing to do with collecting on our bounty."

Boch opened his mouth to protest. A new voice beat him to it.

"Daniel, there's no 'I' in SG-1." Jack sauntered up to the table with Sam, giving his best friend a disapproving look at the 'deal' Daniel was about to close. "We'll all come." He turned his glare to Boch. "If you screw us on this, the last thing you'll see is the barrel of my gun pointed at your head."

Boch pretended to consider the 'negotiation'. Had no intention of informing them that he had scrapped the idea of capturing them long ago, despite his earlier quipped threat. SG-1 was just too much of a hassle. He preferred bounties that were less work than the Tau'ri team. "Agreed." He saw the wariness on the team's faces. "I haven't welched on a deal yet."

"There's a first time for everything," Jack growled.

"Seeing as we're running up a tab," Sam butted in. "How much detail does your ship's scanning equipment go into?"

"I've made a few modifications," he hedged.

"Subterranean?"

"I've never had the need to try it here," he shrugged. "But on a normal planet it reaches about a thousand kilometers, depending on the density of the rock."

"Does it give an analysis of the rock composition or just heat signatures and voids?"

"All of the above."

"Sir," she turned to the team leader, "I'd like to take one more set of readings, running it concurrently with a scan of what's beneath the ground."

"Whatever floats your boat," Jack agreed. Then looked expectantly for an explanation.

"The strength of the magnetic field fluctuates for no apparent reason at random intervals, from very high to almost normal levels." She darted a look at Boch and worded her next statement carefully. "We need to know why so we can maintain a stable resonance. Having it drop to normal could be...bad."

"How long will these scans take?" Boch asked.

"Thirty minutes."

Boch gave a nod, agreeing to the added requirement of the deal. It would probably take that long to find the files relating to the Guild anyway. "Time is money." He got to his feet before they could come up with any more additions to their agreement.

SG-1 let him take the lead back to his ship, dropping back enough that he was out of earshot.

"This deal could come back and bite us in the ass," Sam said quietly.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"It'll be worth it if it gets us closer to Casper," Jack shrugged.

"Jack, why did you up the payoff?" Daniel demanded in a low whisper. "He would have agreed to just me."

"Boch knows that agreeing to one is agreeing to all of us. Only an idiot would think we would let you go traipsing around the galaxy with him alone." He kept a wary eye on the bounty hunter, listening with half an ear as he uttered the password to deactivate the ship's invisibility cloak and unlock it. "Just in case Boch is the proverbial idiot, I wanted to make that clear."

Daniel gave a grateful smile to his best friend, and to Sam and Teal'c, who nodded in solidarity to Jack's statement.

A couple of minutes later, under the watchful eye of Teal'c, Boch stepped back from the main control console. "Okay, Major, the scanners are ready when you are."

"Actually I'm a Lieutenant Colonel now," Sam replied a little absently, then her lips tweaked into a smile at the sense of déjà vu.

Boch gave a snort of laughter, also remembering that conversation from all those years ago. "Well, excuse me while I update your bounty profile. Any other promotions I should add?"

"General," Jack shrugged.

The bounty hunter gave a mock shake of his head as though he didn't know what the galaxy was coming to. "You always were a general pain in the mik'ta. I see your people have just made it official."

"And I could just shoot you on general principle," Jack shot back.

"Kiddies, let's play nicely," Daniel said quietly, ushering Jack outside to act as his required role as 'rod holder' with Sam who pulled the diagnostic equipment and temporal shield from her satchel. "Boch, what can you tell us about this weapon?"

Boch waited until he got the go ahead to activate the scanners, synchronizing the start with Sam's call, before spouting what he could remember. "It's a specialized pulse rifle designed by an underground group who call themselves the Liquidator Guild. They work mainly around the region of space known as the Wafaris Province. The exact coordinates are in my files, but they have been known to venture beyond to other sectors for an exorbitant fee." He opened a panel in the side wall and withdrew a data pad. Entered a code of twelve digits to activate it. Inside the databanks of that small device held the records and research of every one of his assignments. "Don't suppose you thought to bring a data crystal with you?"

"Add it to our tab," Daniel suggested.

He gave a resigned sigh and hunted around in another drawer, continuing on. "They are a secretive group. To set up an appointment you have to go through a half a dozen blind mediators. Apparently there's a triad that determine first if they will take on the job and then they determine which of their employees is best suited for it. Only at the final meeting after the price is agreed to, do the chosen assassin and client meet."

"Is it possible that the owner of the weapon we saw could have acquired it from elsewhere?" Teal'c asked.

"Possible, but not likely. Once a member has been admitted into the Guild, they're in it for life. There's no such thing as retirement. That type of weapon is programmed to respond to only the one user. If anyone else tries, the weapon self-destructs, taking out the person with it."

"How did you overcome the programming of the self-destruct?" Teal'c frowned with a hint of dubiousness at the story.

"I didn't," Boch admitted. "I had that weapon for nigh on five years and I never could get beyond the encryption. I was keeping it to use as a booby trap if the occasion arose."

"How is it that you were able to get your hands on one?" Daniel asked curiously.

"My path crossed with one of them. The man who hired me to find his daughter, who'd run off with some rare family trinkets, was a target. Turns out that the daughter was the one to put out the hit. The assassin turned up when I was collecting payment for the completed job." He flashed the two men a wicked smile. "The assassin found out the hard way not to stand between me and my money. A firefight ensued and wouldn't you know, I was the only one left standing. I took my bounty plus a bit extra for that little surprise."

"How do you know so much about the Guild if they are so secretive?"

"Every organization has its weaknesses." Boch wasn't about to give away his trade secret. He transferred all the relevant data he'd gathered from when he was researching the weapon, deleting the name of his contact. "Everything is on here." He held out the crystal to Daniel.

"If an assassination goes wrong, will there be another attempt?"

"Depends on the bargain struck," Boch shrugged, then paused as a fragment of an urban legend tickled his mind. "There's a rumor, that if the target was missed due to the information the client provided being wrong, then it's the client who winds up dead."

Daniel's brow creased with worry. "What if the assassin winds up dead? Do they retaliate?"

"They seek compensation from the client." He paused. "As for the person who did the deed...well, let me just pose the question, 'how do you think they recruit their members?'" That little tidbit he'd learned from personal experience when he'd procured the weapon.

That knowledge only served to increase Daniel's concern. He doubted the Guild would take kindly to any new recruits declining their 'invitation'. Another thought made his blood run cold. Could this being be strong enough to manipulate Annika against her morals, making her agree to the Guild's offer? My Angel, what have you gotten yourself mixed up in? He sent a silent plea, hang in there, we're coming for you.

"Did the assassin die?" Boch asked, not missing the archaeologist's increasing frown.

"Possibly." Daniel passed over copies of the sketches of the assassin and target they had come up with. "We're more interested in a location for the target than the details of the assassin." He jotted in the corner of the first sketch the coordinates of the planet. "That's where the attempt took place three days ago. It's all we have."

Boch studied the faces. "This isn't much, but I'll see what I can dig up."

It wasn't long before Jack and Sam came back onto the ship and Boch transferred the data from the scans to the crystal.

The blonde tucked it into her pocket. "I've got everything I need."

"How will I contact you?" Boch asked.

Jack considered the options. He didn't fancy the idea of having any one of his team being left on the planet simply waiting. It would just be asking for someone to recognize them. Reluctantly he handed over his GDO and gave the bounty hunter his personal code. "I'll make sure the code's not locked out. You can also use it for when you call in the debt." He ignored the gleam in the man's beady eyes at getting the technology. "Let's go, kids."

"What no tearful goodbyes?" Boch mocked. "No wishing me luck?"

"Just get us the intel," Jack growled striding out with the others close on his heels.

The bounty hunter's laugh was abruptly cut off when he sealed the door. A few seconds later they felt the gust of wind hit their backs as the cloaked ship lifted off the ground.

No one could say it was a happy team who collected their belongings from the inn and made their way back to the Stargate; there were still too many unknowns with the added consternation of the new development with the Guild. However, they grasped the new leads to their hearts, simply looking at them as being one step closer to making their team whole again.

A A A

Mahj'arc didn't look up when he heard familiar footfalls enter the office. "I've been meaning to ask, how goes the search for the enterprising Lucas brother?" Within an hour of determining who had put out the hit on his life they had reassigned a 'watcher' to locate the man. They had a watcher on each of the planets where they did business, who watched not only the goings on of the law agencies, but kept an eye out for any new potential guests.

"Our man has tracked him to the neighboring system, no specific location yet."

Taking a sip of tea Mahj'arc glanced up at his friend's slightly dazed tone. "What's up with you?"

"I think Myst has finally managed to get 'Lose Your Balls Beth' off my back."

"Really?" His curiosity was piqued. "How?"

The security man gave a bewildered chuckle. "She slapped me."

Mahj'arc nearly spat his tea all over the desk. "Excuse me?"

"I don't quite know what happened." Veta absently rubbed his cheek, sitting down at the opposite desk. "Myst offered to help out by playing my 'simpering lover'. I guess something got lost in translation. When she came over to rescue me from the man-eater, instead of playing all lovey dovey and cuddly she was as cool as ice. Dismissed Beth like she was an annoying insect then strolled off. Then Sachee was tugging on my hand saying Myst looked pretty mad and I'd better go after her..." his voice drifted off.

"And?" Mahj'arc prompted.

"And I did...and then whammo she slapped me one right there for all to see."

"What did you do?"

"Um...well...I figured I was still supposed to be playing the boyfriend...so I...er...grabbed her and kissed her." He gave another short chuckle. "I thought she was going to whack me again, but she broke free and just kept on walking...well, stalking would be a better term. I kept after her but then the pit boss called me over. By the time I finished up with him there was no sign of Myst or Beth. I checked the monitors and Beth went planet-side a few minutes ago."

There was a quiet rap a second before a dark head popped around the door.

"Mahj'arc, have you seen V-" Annika broke off, casting a sheepish look at the man she was seeking. "Veta, I'm sorry, there was no way to give you a heads up."

Veta waved her apology off. "Why the change of tactics?"

"Sachee," she shrugged by way of explanation. "I was observing Beth hanging all over you, thinking how to play it. All Sachee said was, 'make him chase you'. Being a jealous angry lover was the best I could come up with."

"Well, it worked," Veta grinned.

"Awesome!" Annika's returning smile became mischievous. "Maybe now you can make your move on Del!"

Veta's mouth dropped into an 'O' of shock, but before he could splutter any kind of denial, she was gone.

Mahj'arc had the good sense to not comment on the not-so-hidden feelings of his friend for the chef. "Even though Myst physically keeps her distance from the others, people seem to gravitate towards her." He planted his gaze firmly on the hourly report of the shipboard activities he'd being reviewing. One entry diverted his attention. "Patrice has been with Tidsdell for over three hours?"

"Don't worry, he's paying through the nose for the extended session," Veta assured then replied to his partner's first comment. "Yeah she does. The shyer introverts feel comfortable around her." He hesitated before adding a second distinct group of people who'd been at ease with the psychic's presence. "And those who have been open about their past indiscretions."

"Noticed that too, huh?"

As part of their hiring practice, they had a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. An employee started with a clean slate the moment they agreed to be a part of the crew and their 'worth' was earned by their work. The only thing they did demand was to know on which planets their past indiscretions could catch up with them. When the Empyrean Loft docked at those planets, those concerned were kept back of house for their protection. That wasn't to say that Veta hadn't done background checks on all their employees, he had, to ensure that there was no risk to the business. But those files were locked away and any instances were not discussed unless the employee broached the subject.

Another name caught Mahj'arc's eye on the list. "Corshase..."

"I have a man posted at the window, one whimper from Pete that isn't of ecstasy and he will be space dust," Veta said. Corchase was on his one and final warning. He'd gotten rough with the last masseuse he'd hired. The only reason he was alive to tell the tale was that masseuse had admitted to making the rookie mistake of not setting the ground rules before starting. While Corchase was on 'probation' he would have one of the security team watching through a two-way mirror, though he was unaware of that fact.

"Have there been any surprises of who is actively avoiding our little crystal ball?"

"A few." Veta sent his best friend a cautious look. There had been one person who'd stood out, but he'd be damned if he'd mention Rinnie by name. That Mahj'arc brought the subject up meant that he had noticed his wife's wariness around Myst as well. "But that doesn't really mean much. They may just be private people." He changed the subject. "Myst doesn't belong here."

"She seems to be fitting in quicker than most," Mahj'arc contradicted.

"Didn't say she wasn't. But she's too...too..." he struggled for the right word.

"Honest?" Mahj'arc quipped.

Though he knew his friend spoke in jest, he nodded. "Yes. In three days she has done wonders with Sachee and I'm the first to admit that I don't want to see her go, but she belongs with her people."

Mahj'arc sighed. "I know. But we gave our word that we wouldn't probe into her background." He caught the eyebrow lift from Veta and gave a snort. "Yeah, I know. That she believed we wouldn't try to check her out is testament that she doesn't belong here."

Veta gave a derisive bark of laughter. "Oh she knew. But she also knew that our efforts would come up naught. There's not one thing traceable on her."

"So it amounts to the same thing. We need to know more of her background if we want to find her people."

"What if her people found us?" Veta said slowly.

"We don't exactly leave business cards." Mahj'arc raised an eyebrow.

"No, but there are other ways." He reached into his pocket and pulled out Myst's iPod, which he had lifted from her when he'd 'accidentally' bumped into her in the kitchen. "Some of these tunes are pretty catchy. If Jerrzy can incorporate a song or two into the show, a tweak to the synapse frequency and every person who hears it will have the song running through their heads."

Mahj'arc studied his friend. "I see you've given this some thought."

Veta gave a shrug.

The synapse device they used when the guests were leaving. It planted a subliminal message reinforcing the need for secrecy of the Empyrean Loft's existence and a friendly reminder to drop by the next time they were in orbit. The strength of the pulse wasn't anywhere near enough to be classed as a compulsion; it was just enough to 'divert' a person's attention if anyone began asking any awkward questions.

"It will be a long shot. We don't even know that she's from this quadrant."

"But her people are looking for her here. And I have the feeling they're not the kind to give up." He vividly recalled the blue-eyed man on the planet on the day of the assassination attempt. His face had been filled with desperation to get to the woman they knew as Myst.

"If Myst finds out, she'll be out of here quicker than light speed," Mahj'arc pointed out the obvious. "She may not belong here, but I'd rather have her here amongst us than out there," he gestured to the expanse of space outside the portal. "There are a lot nastier places in the universe than the Loft."

"I know," Veta agreed. "That's why I wanted to run it by you first."

His partner gave it some thought. "Okay, do it."

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