Bill McCay - Stargate Retaliation

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STARGATE: RETALIATION
Bill McCay
[THE FOLLOWING MATERIAL APPEARS BEFORE THE START OF THE BOOK]
COMBATANTS IN A STRUGGLE THAT SPANS A GALAXY
DANIEL JACKSON-once an academic outcast on Earth, is now a hero to a people in need of
technology and education. Torn between his new bride and a movement he cannot resist, his unique
knowledge of the StarGate may be his undoing.... JACK O’NEIL-leader of the rebellion that destroyed
Ra and stood firm against Hathor, finds himself faced with war of a very different kind ... when old
friends become new enemies, and control of the StarGate may cost him his command, his life, and his
men....
SHA’URI-anxious to help usher in a new era for her suffering people, has staked everything she believes
on the promises of her new allies from Earth. But the growing strife between her and her husband, Daniel,
may destroy a great deal more than their marriage....
SKAARA-having earned his militia leadership in the war for freedom, must now hold his fragile army
together although waves of violence buffet the new ship of state at every turn, and the future seems
doomed.... HATHOR-enraged at her failure to crush her enslaved subjects and their intrusive allies, she
summons a weapon that Ra held in reserve for just such an occasion....
CHAPTER 1
ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES
Sergeant Eugene Skinner, USMC, ran a baleful eye over his honor guard detachment. In minutes, a
general would come hurtling through the StarGate to inspect the expeditionary force on the planetAbydos
. The first troops he’d see on this world would be Skinner’s thir-teen men.
The sergeant had been inspected by a lot of different people in some very weird places. But this was the
first time he’d be on parade in a man-made cavern be-neath a five-hundred-feet-high pyramid on an alien
planet. Skinner intended that everything go well.
His Marines were not in dress blues but in desert camouflage BDU’s, mottled tans and greens on a
sand-colored background. Under the sergeant’s unre-lenting eye, the men had made sure that every item
of kit and weaponry was in the only acceptable condi-tion-perfect.
Sergeant Skinner did not like surprises, but he tried to prepare for them. That was why his men were
already in formation well before General West’s scheduled arrival at 1100 hours.
“Typical,” the sergeant muttered as a low, nearly subsonic tone announced the beginning of a StarGate
transition well before the general’s official advent. “Trying to catch us looking bad.”
‘This general might be the one who looks bad,” a corporal replied sotto voce.
“Most people don’t come out too great after a ride through the puke chute.” Skinner had to admit that
the Marine slang for a trip through the StarGate was right on the mark. The million-light-year transition
from portal to portal was a hellish rush, combining mind-warping geometry with the bruising punishment
of a trip overNiagara Falls -without a barrel.
But no matter the general’s condition when he emerged, he would find a picture-perfect reception party.
A glimmer of extradimensional energy gathered at the focus of the Abydos StarGate, congealing into a
shining vortex of force that spewed from the torus of carved golden crystal to the accompaniment of a
low, thrumming harmonic. Then the energy interface settled in the gleaming golden ring. It looked like
soapy water stretched across a fifteen-feet bubble wand, or a reflection of rippling waters.
A silhouette darkened the iridescent energy field. Sergeant Skinner leapt in front of his men and shouted,
“Ten-hut!”
The honor guard snapped to attention, presenting arms. Off to his left, Skinner heard the local
command-er, Colonel Jack O’Neil, bitching to his aide, “Where the hell isJackson ? He’s supposed to
be here-“ O’Neil’s words were cut off at the appearance of the new arrival. The hulking shape erupting
from the lens of energy didn’t look like a general. It was only quasi-human, a tall hawk mask of golden
crystal rising from its shoulders. The figure charged with a spear-like weapon leveled as four more
masked figures ap-peared from the StarGate.
Skinner trained his rifle when he realized with hor-ror that the guard was strictly ceremonial. To avoid
the embarrassment of accidentally shooting a VIP, the M-16 rifles were empty of ammunition. Frantically
clawing a full magazine from a web pouch, the sergeant shouted, “Lock and load! Fire at will!” A
dazzling blast flared from the intruder’s lance. It caught Skinner and two of his men before they were
even in firing position.
Prior to entrusting himself to the unearthly paths of the StarGate, Khonsu had forced himself through the
requisite muscular and breathing exercises. Millennia of experience had taught the Horus guards how to
minimize the effects of a translation through the inhu-man geometries between gates. Khonsu knew that
every second would count when they arrived onAbydos . He and his companions had to be combat
ready the instant of their arrival. When he erupted through theAbydos side of the StarGate, Khonsu was
every inch the avenging Horus guard. He found the sentinels on the other side stand-ing rigidly before
him, like targets. His blast-lance took out three men in the middle of the guards’ skirmish line almost
before the Earthlings had adjusted to his appearance. Even as he fired, Khonsu charged the line of
warriors dressed in colors of dust and dung.
The Earthlings were torn, unable to believe a single attacker was engaging them. Their weapons
wavered from Khonsu to the masked warriors materializing be-hind him, expecting a larger attack.
Now Khonsu was through their line, covering the entrance to the chamber. Shouting in their uncouth
tongue, some of the warriors turned, bringing their weapons to bear. Others, the ones apparently
operat-ing the portal, leapt for weapons stowed uselessly too far from their positions. Khonsu ignored
the furor, guarding the only entrance to the chamber.
His compatriots would handle the warders. His part was to keep reinforcements from arriving.
“No inspection-ready unit has ever passed combat.” That old piece of barracks wisdom kept ringing in
Jack O’Neil’s mind as he struggled against the onset of in-vading warriors. A Horus guard hurtled past
him as he yanked a Beretta 9mm pistol from his holster.
O’Neil forced himself not to turn after the lead man. There were other guards in the complex of
passages that led to the StarGate. Let them deal with the single man while he and the surviving guards
tackled the bulk of the invaders. So far only four other Horuses had come through. But the StarGate was
cycling again. O’Neil aimed his pistol at a shape that solidified into a heavy-set, jowly middle-aged man
in the uniform of a U.S. Air Force general. The colonel managed to ease the pressure on his trigger just
before popping General West. The general staggered, nearly pitching on his face from the bruis-ing
transit.
But West’s ungraceful entrance saved his life. A blast-bolt flashed where his head should have been,
instead incinerating the top of his peaked cap. “General!” O’Neil yelled. Reversing his pistol, he tossed it
to his superior officer. “It’s ready to go,” he called. “I hope you remember how to use it!” West’s usual
poker face stretched in a tight grin as he caught the weapon. He was a veteran of the shad-owy world of
special operations. Even as O’Neil dove for a dead Marine’s rifle, West calmly put three bullets into the
Horus guard who’d given him such a warm welcome.
“Not as much kick as my old Army Colt,” the gen-eral commented, wheeling in search of new targets.
But the alien assault team was past them, having al-ready vanished into the next chamber after leaving
two of their number stark on the floor. M-16 in hand, O’Neil considered pursuing the survivors-for about
a second. Then he shook his head. The corridors beyond had lots of fighting men, and they’d come
run-ning to the sound of the guns.
Now was not the time to leave the StarGate un-guarded. “Reload,” O’Neil told the surviving men in the
room. Then he established the Marines and Army technicians to lay down a crossfire on anything else
that appeared from the StarGate. “If you’ve got grenades, keep ‘em ready,” he ordered.
West nodded, then removed his still smoldering headgear. “No brass hats here,” he said. “Just soldiers.”
Khonsu held his blocking position for what seemed like forever. He forced himself not to turn back-that
could be a fatal distraction. What was keeping the rest of his team? They should have dispatched all of
the outlanders by now! The Horus tensed as he detected the clatter of on-rushing feet-more guards
hastening to the sounds of fighting. A hand landed on Khonsu’s shoulder. He turned to find his comrade
Neb, the leader of this foray. Behind his mask Khonsu’s face showed his shock. The strangers had killed
two of their number-and too many of the gate guards still survived! With a brusque hand motion the
leader gestured- onward! The three survivors rushed from the hall of the StarGate into a crypt-like
chamber. Here they found another obstacle. The short-range matter trans-mitter they had expected to
whisk them ahead of pur-suit had been rendered useless, totally blocked with debris. With no signs of
disheartenment, the leader pressed on into the larger colonnaded hall beyond.
Shouts echoed off the stone walls as some of the sol-diers spotted him. The odd brrrrrrrp! sounds of
their armament blended with crashing counter blasts from the intruders’ lances.
Neb raised his aim, firing at the ungainly lights strung in the hall.
The huge space was plunged into darkness as the enemy’s cries rose in volume. But for Khonsu and the
other Horus guards, the light intensifiers in their helmet-masks turned the blackness into a green-tinted
image. He saw a trio of warriors groping their way be-tween the pillars, trying to reach him. Neb aimed-
but their leader seized his arm. Khonsu understood. The glare of the blast would reveal their location to
the enemies wandering in the dark, seeking some target for their weapons.
Sweeping his blast-lance at the ready across his chest, Khonsu advanced on the three interlopers. He
swung his energy weapon like a quarterstaff, catching the lead warrior just under the left ear. The man
went down as if the weight of the world had fallen upon him. The warrior on the felled one’s right must
have heard the scuffle. He called out in a sharp voice as he crouched, his weapon set to sweep the now
suspicious blackness.
Khonsu thrust his blast-lance in a lunge that caught the man in the pit of the stomach. The soldier folded,
triggering a burst into the floor. Flying rock chips stung Khonsu’s legs as his eyes reflexively clenched
shut against the agony of the intensified muzzle flare. He lashed out into the featureless red glare dancing
before his eyes and felt his blast-lance strike some-thing yielding.
“Forward!” The order came through his mask’s com-municator. Running strictly by rote, Khonsu
threaded the route to the pyramid’s entrance while still blinded. His sight returned barely in time to warn
him of the single guard left at the adit.
A mistake, he thought. They seek to chase the mouse when their best move would be to seal off the
mousehole.
The lone guard called into the darkness. Neb fired a blast-bolt straight into the warrior’s chest. The
man’s torso exploded as his body fluids vaporized, and the hall filled with the smell of roasted meat.
Yells rose from behind as the air filled with the roar of the Earthlings’ projectile guns. The three invaders
darted out of the darkness and into the dim glow of a starship’s emergency lighting.
Khonsu’s briefing for this mission had covered sev-eral contingencies. One of these had been a foray
into the disabled cruiser that had docked on the Abydos StarGate pyramid.
The war vessel Ra’s Eye had come to Abydos in search of Ra, the ageless god-ruler of a vast interstellar
empire. Instead it had found Ra’s vessel destroyed the Abydos peasants in rebellion with the help of
interlopers from Earth-the only world that, thou-sands of years before, had successfully thrown off Ra’s
domination.
Khonsu had been remorselessly drilled in the ship’s deck layout. He was surprised to find improvised
bar-ricades set at the entrance to the StarGate pyramid and along the wide corridor that led to the main
airlock. But Khonsu was even more shocked to find these bar-riers guarded by armed fellahin of
Abydos. Again, he’d been briefed on the warrior group the rebel fellahin had created, but it had sounded
like fantasy. Slaves with weapons? Inconceivable! Now he faced them. But the fellahin would-be
war-riors were even more disorganized than the Earth-lings. At the first sight of their ancient overseers,
the ex-slaves stood like night creatures caught in a bright light. Khonsu’s leader didn’t give them a chance
to re-cover. A slim hand shot out to an inconspicuous set of studs set into the crystalline wall. Fingers
stabbed in the right combination, and the seemingly solid quartz surface reconstituted itself, forming an
opening-an access hatch for maintenance technicians. The leader vanished inside, followed by Neb.
Khonsu waited until the first of the fellahin reached him. Seizing the luckless Abydan, he dragged him
in-side the service conduit. He’d broken the weakling’s neck before the biomorphic quartz redeployed to
its wall form. Stripping off the dead man’s homespun cloak, Khonsu clambered up the stanchions to the
next deck. He could hear the thudding of furious fists on the panel below.
No one saw them emerge through a hatch on the level above. Khonsu shrank his falcon mask back to its
necklace configuration, slipped on the captured robe, and adjusted its hood to shade his features. He
took the lead as the intruders headed for the nearest stairway.
A pair of guards were clattering upward as he ar-rived at the landing. “Hawk-heads!” one cried in his
Abydan peasant ac-cent, thinking he spoke to a comrade. “They’ve broken into the ship. Keep an eye-“
That was as far as he got before Khonsu was upon them. He dropped his blast-lance. This was close
work, best done by hand. Khonsu had no illusions as to why he’d been taken on this mission. He was
Khonsu the killer, trained in the arts of silent death.
One fellah was down, his throat crushed. The other dodged Khonsu’s blow, turning to flee. Khonsu
caught him by the scruff of his cloak and hauled him back. The man was in midair as the killer seized him
by the leg. The figure twisted convulsively as Khonsu brought him down across his left knee. The spine
cracked, and Khonsu broke the neck for good measure as the body dropped. Quickly he stripped the
dead Abydans and passed their robes to his companions. Then came a stiff climb toward the zenith of the
pyramid ship-to Launch Deck Four. Once this had been a hangar for part of the udajeet contingent
carried by the battlecraft. But one of the antigravity gliders, crippled in the fighting with the Earthlings and
their Abydan allies, had crashed into the open docking space, creating chaos inside-and jamming the
deck’s huge hangar doors in the open position.
While Neb and Khonsu kept watch, their leader pro-duced a metal spool wound with an almost
filament-thin thread. The Horus guard found a flame-blackened but still sound conduit near the open
doors. The first few inches of thread unwound from the spool turned out to be a preformed loop. A
gentle shake teased the loop open. Then the spool went through the loop to create a simple hitch around
the heavy pipe. Khonsu and Neb each did the same, finding a suitable belay. They backed toward the
open bay doors, paying out the monofilament cable until they stood right on the brink.
The invaders clapped handle-like devices to their spools of cable, then leapt backward. Khonsu felt his
spool unreeling with an angry whir. His feet hit the sloping golden surface of the pyramid ship, and he
tightened the brakes on his hand grip. The filament quivered under his weight but held. Khonsu knew
better than to touch the thread that bore his weight. Under this tension the thin line would probably slice
through fingers and bone like a razor. He caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision of Neb kicking aloft.
Releasing the spool’s brakes, Khonsu leapt off, too. Again-and again. In a quick series of huge rappelling
bounds, infiltra-tion team reached the base of the stranded spacecraft seconds before warriors came
boiling out of the ship’s square-arched entrance. Khonsu tossed away the now useless spool and
twitched up the hood on his drab cloak. He wanted to make sure it covered his warrior’s sidelock and
the blue tattoo round his right eye. Oth-ers of the fellahin carried blast-lances. He and the other Horus
guards blended into the milling crowd. The first step of their mission had been accomplished. Now, on to
the city of Nagada.
CHAPTER 2
STRATEGIES AND TACTICS
Colonel Jack O’Neil listened as the bedlam outside the hall of the StarGate began to die down. More
guards arrived to bolster the defenses for the interstellar por-tal, until at last O’Neil felt free to leave with
his aide, Lieutenant Charlton, and a shadow-General West. Armed with rifles and flashlights, the officers
traced the path of the intruders until they reached the adit now blocked by the hulk of the starship Ra’s
Eye. The entrance was blocked not just by the usual bar-ricade, but by arguing troops, both American
and Abydan. There was more here than just the transition from tunnel to spaceship. It represented a
demarca-tion line. Within the pyramid the expedition from Earth held sway. But the derelict vessel had
been taken by an ad hoc force composed mainly of Abydan militiamen. The Abydans had claimed Ra’s
Eye by right of conquest-and had pressed their claim by oc-cupying the ship.
This corridor leading to the outside world had been garrisoned by armed militiamen and barricaded at
each end-from possible attack from the StarGate, and from the Earther base camp that occupied the
rocky plateau which supported the StarGate pyramid. The militia garrison stood as a tangible symbol of
the ten-sion between the Elders of Abydos and the U.S. gov-ernment as represented by General W. O.
West.
Right now that tension seemed to have reached nearly flashpoint dimensions. The sides could be easi-ly
told. O’Neil’s men in desert BDU’s confronted militiamen in brownish homespun robes. The primi-tive
clothing clashed with the modern assault rifles in the militia members’ hands, but that contrast was the
same from the Montagnards of Vietnam to the mujahadeen of Afghanistan. In this case, however, the
weapons in some of the Abydans’ hands made the modern assault rifles look primitive. The golden shafts
of gleaming quartz looked like blunt spears. But O’Neil had seen demon-strations where those
blast-lances blew holes through armor plate. He’d helped capture a few, which he’d sent via the
StarGate back to Earth. The Abydans had many, many more, plundered from the inoperable spacecraft.
And now they were using the blast-lances to guard that vessel. As O’Neil pushed to the front of his
Marines, the young man in charge of the Abydans began to berate him.
“You let hawk-heads through to attack us,” the young officer accused. “Grabbed one of my men.
Probably killed him.”
“Where did they go?” O’Neil demanded. He got a shrug for an answer. “They disappear into wall. I
send out men to look-“ “You don’t have enough men to search this whole ship,” the colonel said flatly.
The tip of the pyramidal bulk that made up the spacecraft Ra’s Eye rose more than seven hundred feet
into the air. Along its base, each of the four sides measured almost twelve hun-dred feet. Lieutenant
Charlton had once calculated that the deck space aboard the vessel probably equaled half that of one of
the World Trade towers.
“You not bring your people inside here!” The young Abydan’s grasp of English slipped under stress.
O’Neil simply climbed the barricade, setting off down the corridor. He was quickly joined by Charlton
and West.
“I will send to Skaara!” the furious young man yelled. It was the only threat he could use. He knew his
po-sition couldn’t hold against a determined assault from O’Neil’s troops.
Jack O’Neil knew the militia leader when Skaara had been a simple shepherd. The colonel had
be-friended the young man when the original reconnais-sance team had arrived on Abydos. Skaara had
responded by organizing his friends into a group of boy commandos to rescue O’Neil and the other team
members when they’d become the prisoners of Ra.
From that original resistance cell, Skaara’s militia had grown to company size and beyond, attaining
almost Frankensteinian proportions during and after the attack by the crew of Ra’s Eye.
But the two commanders, Earther and Abydan, knew each other. O’Neil could imagine Skaara’s
reaction. “Call to Skaara on your radio,” the colonel said coolly. “I bet he’ll tell you to help us search.”
O’Neil emerged to find a half-panicked mob of militiamen milling around in the midst of his camp and
shook his head. He could only hope that the infiltrators were still aboard and not hidden in that churning
mob. Three intruders did not a major invasion make. But , the very smallness of the force set off alarms in
O’Neil’s head. His background was covert work. And this fire drill had all the hallmarks of infiltrators
being inserted. Maybe Hathor or whoever was heading up the opposition was looking for some
intelligence-this threesome could be the Horus guard equivalent of recon Marines. Or they could be up to
some sort of deadly mischief. It seemed unlikely that three operatives-even high-tech ops-could
jump-start the wrecked starcraft. If fixing the good ship Ra’s Eye had been that easy, Hathor’s crew
could have done it themselves.
On the other hand, there were lots of sensitive systems left behind in the hulk-technological secrets that
Ra’s successors might prefer to deny Earth scientists. Selective sabotage or wholesale destruc-tion-either
strategy might be a possibility.
“Charlton, we’re going to need additional security details. I want a perimeter established around the
ship. No one to get in or out-“ O’Neil flicked a quick glance to West, but the gen-eral said nothing,
leaving everything in O’Neil’s hands-and if necessary, on his head. “And let’s get our own message to
Skaara. We’ll have to search that sucker deck by deck, and I’d rather do that with his approval-and
presence, if possible.” Skaara put in an appearance well after the ship had been surrounded and sealed
off. Several militia offi-cers were still arguing about O’Neil’s trespass aboard “their” ship when he
arrived.
“I’m sorry, Colonel,” the handsome young man apologized. “There’s some trouble brewing in the city
that needed my attention.”
When he got the full story on the Horus guard in-cursion, he blistered his own people and opened the
ship right up.
“The devils disappeared into the wall right here,” a militiaman explained, pointing at an apparently blank
wall of golden crystal. “This stuff changes shape,” O’Neil said to Skaara. “Remember when we were
fighting our way to the command deck? Jackson found someone working on circuitry through a panel
that had opened in the wall. Maybe there’s the same sort of thing here.”
Charlton didn’t look happy. “That could mean the whole ship is honeycombed with secret passages. A
lot of people will lose most of their night’s sleep pok-ing around in here, sir.”
“We’ll stick to the regular corridors first. But keep a strong guard on the exits. That includes lights and
snipers on that open hangar deck near the top of this thing.”
The first sweep had barely begun when the searchers found two dead, stripped Abydans in a stairwell.
“That makes sense,” O’Neil said grimly. “It lets them blend in with the enemy-hide those tattoos around
their eyes-“ “The eye of Ra, sir,” Charlton hurriedly added, with a glance toward West. “Just like the
name of the ship.” “And it means that everybody wearing a brown cloak aboard this tub may not be
friendly.” O’Neil turned to his aide. “Make sure nobody boards or leaves the ship with his hood up.” The
searchers at last reached the ruined hangar deck, but the first sweep missed the monofilament lines.
Charlton broke into frustrated swearing when he got the report. “We’ve been doing this all for nothing!
The bastards were gone before we even arrived!” “We can’t be sure of that,” O’Neil warned. “Though I
can’t imagine these guys hanging around to wait for our search parties. We’ll continue the sweeps, on the
odd chance. At least we’ll be sure that they didn’t leave any boobytraps behind.”
“In the part of the ship we were able to reach,” Charlton added sotto voce as he turned to pass on the
appropriate orders.
Skaara came up from the checkpoints he’d arranged to keep the intruders from sneaking through the
lines. “So, our efforts were too late,” he said. “And our descriptions don’t give the best likeness,”
Charlton said. “Three men in brown homespun cloaks, with their hoods probably up. Doubtless they
were still carrying their blast-lances.”
“But there are more than enough of my own people who would meet that description,” Skaara said.
“And you know where they were probably headed,” O’Neil added. “Nagada.” Skaara’s voice was
tight. “They would have no trouble disappearing among all those in the city.” He shook his head, his
expression saying 1 really need this. “It’s not enough to have people fighting in the marketplaces over
food, and the disputes with Nakker and his farmer folk. Now we must worry about spies.”
He shook his head. “My people are halfway trained to fight, to mount guard. We know nothing of man
hunting.”
“You could at least check for strangers,” O’Neil said. Skaara gave a short, barking laugh. “You have
not been able to look around inside our walls for a while, Colonel-other than trips to visit my father.
Nagada is bursting at the seams. The streets are full of wandering beggars, people whose homes were
destroyed in the fighting, fanners come to see the city. There are too many strangers passing among us.
Three more won’t stand out.” “You can narrow the description down a bit,” O’Neil said. “Three males
traveling together, all of military age, all with good builds-if I know my Ho-rus guards.” “And probably
with arrogance to match,” Skaara agreed with a mirthless smile.
“I’m afraid that’s the only way they’ll betray themselves.” O’Neil turned to Lieutenant Charlton.
“Perhaps if we can lend some people with counterinsurgency or intelligence backgrounds,” he said,
waiting for West to speak up and kill the deal. “See who might be available. We’ll try to give you some
help, Skaara. But we’ll have to improve our own security as well.” “If only that were the only help I
needed!” Skaara burst out. He glanced at the strange officer and shut up. But when West began
conferring with Charlton, the young man plunged on. “I wouldn’t trouble you with this, Colonel. But I
need advice, and the ones I might have turned to for their wisdom are gone.” O’Neil nodded. Skaara
was referring to the alumni of the first Abydos expedition, Kawalsky and Feretti. The colonel himself
often found himself wishing they were still around, instead of getting mysteriously transferred back to
Earth. For one thing, they had good relations with the local militia. Hell, they’d helped Skaara train his
initial force.
But their help had been unofficial-and it predated the strained relations that now stood between
Earth-lings and Abydans.
O’Neil had expected the problems Skaara outlined in controlling a loose-knit militia force that kept
grow-ing. But he frowned when he heard Skaara mention a dangerous word for any military
man-“politics.”
“There’s little enough I can suggest to help you, without getting Kasuf after you and West after me,” the
colonel said. “You might work at developing some esprit de corps among your people-a sense of shared
purpose. Maybe Daniel Jackson could help you with that.”
Which reminded O’Neil-where the hell was the sole Earth civilian on Abydos? “The only purpose our
people seem to share any-more is finding their next meal,” Skaara said in dis-gust. “The other thing
they’re hungry for is guns. There are still poor ones going out to sift the sands where your people fought
the Horus guards. They hope to find some sort of weapon to trade for food.” “I know,” O’Neil said.
“We’ve had patrols out, try-ing to discourage them.” “They’re just sad,” Skaara said. “We’ve had
jackals breaking into our storehouses for weapons-“ “You have arsenals?” O’Neil said in surprise.
“Lieutenant Kawalsky explained about keeping our weapons safe and combat ready,” Skaara said.
“Better to keep them off the streets and out of the wrong hands,” the colonel agreed. “But you also have
to protect the weapons. My advice is to post a twenty-four-hour guard-and use the most dependable
sol-diers you have.” Skaara sighed. “If I use those men to guard our guns, who will be left to guard the
streets?”
It was nearly noon as Daniel Jackson strolled the company streets of the terrestrial base camp. He was
intentionally late for General West’s arrival. Daniel didn’t like the man, having had run-ins with him
be-fore. And although he wanted to talk to the general, he wasn’t about to stand hanging around through
a mili-tary inspection. A dedicated civilian, Daniel had no in-terest in “playing soldier,” as he put it.
Daniel had walked from the city of Nagada, a dusty trip across the desert. The hood on his robe of
native homespun was up to protect his fair skin from the double suns of Abydos. He’d just finished the
cool drink he’d cadged in the mess tent, glanced at his watch, and figured it was time to put in an
appearance. Although Daniel noticed a little more activity than usual in the streets, no one had told him
the cause. So when he reached the open square around the pyramid and the downed spaceship that
covered it, he started past the Marine guards with a casual wave.
“Halt!” The order came in both English and some-what mangled Abydan. I don’t have time for whatever
soldier boy happy horseshit they’re up to, Daniel thought, taking another step. The harsh snick! of bullets
being chambered warned Daniel of his error. He stopped, glancing around to find at least four rifles being
aimed at him.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
“We got a special on body bags,” a hard-faced Ma-rine noncom responded. “One to every customer
who breaches that perimeter. Free.” “Yeah, they’re dying to get ‘em,” another Marine added. “Look,
I’m in a hurry.” Daniel quickly moved his hands, nearly got shot, and throttled back to slow mo-tion as
he slid down his hood to reveal his face and Earthman’s blond hair. “I’m supposed to be meeting General
West,” he said, not mentioning his tardiness.
“Oh, it’s him,” one of his Marine captors muttered in disgust. The noncom’s face didn’t change. “Send
for the El-tee,” he ordered, and one of his men set off.
At least, Daniel noticed, they weren’t pointing their rifles at him anymore.
Jack O’Neil’s aide, a young lieutenant named Charlton, came to collect Daniel. As they moved off
toward the pyramid, the offended guest demanded, “So what the hell is going on here?”
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Charlton stared in disbe-lief. “We had a raid through the StarGate just as we
were expecting General West. A bunch of Horus guards came through. They nearly nailed the general,
and did kill several Marines and Abydan militiamen. They could be still around the camp, wearing
captured local desert gear.” He fingered the sleeve of Daniel’s robe. “Any locals with their hoods up are
immediately suspect.”
Daniel, who’d just been about to raise his hood again, stopped. “Oh,” he said. “It’s been a hell of a
mess,” Charlton went on. “Searching for these guys has completely screwed up our schedule. We’re only
about to start the inspection now.”
“Damn!” Daniel exclaimed. Whether it was for the incursion, the deaths, or being trapped in the
inspection after all, even he couldn’t say. As the search for the infiltrators went on at lower gear, General
West emerged again from the downed starcraft to see just what the Earthmen had been doing on the
planet Abydos. The terrestrial base camp had been established on a rocky outcrop some miles from the
city of Nagada and its quartzite mines, with hexagonal earthworks surrounding the pyramid that housed
the Abydos StarGate. To West, the locale looked like the butt end of beyond, a godforsaken plateau
surrounded by reddish-yellow sand dunes.
West’s spirits weren’t lifted when he saw Lieu-tenant Charlton approaching with the lone Earthling in
residence on Abydos, Daniel Jackson. The Egyptolo-gist’s wayward genius might have deciphered the
cryptic inscriptions that allowed West’s research team to unlock the ten-thousand-year-old artifact
Jackson had named the StarGate. But ever since he’d wangled a place on the reconnaissance through the
portal, Jackson had become a loose cannon. He’d gone native, marrying Sha’uri, daughter of a local
chieftain. The two of them, with the aid of Sha’uri’s brother Skaara, had played important parts in
destroying the half-human, half-alien god-king Ra. But then they’d nearly wrecked West’s attempts to
mine the strange golden quartz found on Abydos- the mineral that fueled all of Ra’s enigmatic technology.
“General.” The civilian slouched up, apparently dressed in a bathrobe, to shake West’s hand. After
O’Neil’s military courtesies, the contrast couldn’t have been greater.
West suffered the familiarity. “Sorry you were delayed, Doctor. But you’re right in time for the start of
our inspection.”
Jackson’s eyes glazed in palpable boredom.
West was very interested to see how the expedi-tionary force had handled the latest attack from the
former overlords of Abydos. The past week had been spent repairing the damage of invasion from the
alien starship. Tents had been replaced to house a much smaller force. New strongpoints had been
created, minefields laid. But there were still slagged areas where energy weapons had melted solid rock.
Wreck-age from crashed udajeets, the enemy’s antigravity fliers, was still being examined and removed.
And, of course, the hulk of the immobilized starcraft loomed over the whole base like an unspoken
threat. When the vessel had landed, it had enlarged the area of the Abydos pyramid by acres-and
obliterated a quarter of the former base camp. West tried not to think of the tents, equipment-and
men-who had disappeared under the craft’s bulk. The general’s concern for the expeditionary force,
heightened by the sneak attack that had almost killed him, abated somewhat as he conducted his
摘要：

   STARGATE:RETALIATIONBillMcCay    [THEFOLLOWINGMATERIALAPPEARSBEFORETHESTARTOFTHEBOOK]COMBATANTSINASTRUGGLETHATSPANSAGALAXYDANIELJACKSON-onceanacademicoutcastonEarth,isnowaherotoapeopleinneedoftechnologyandeducation.Tornbetweenhisnewbrideandamovementhecannotresist,hisuniqueknowledgeoftheStarGatema...

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