In Progress
Action/Adventure, Drama
Set in Season 6
Disclaimers:
Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is written purely for my own entertainment, and that of anyone else who may happen to read it. No infringement of copyright is intended. It is not intended and should never be used for commercial purposes.
The original characters, situations and ideas contained within this work are the property of the author.
Author's Notes:
This story is the third in the four-parter Bushido, which began in Those Who Serve and The Eye of the Storm and concludes in The Path of Honour.
I apologise profusely for my abuse of the Japanese language and mythology.
Acknowledgements:
Many thanks to Sho – if I knew the language, I would say thank you in Japanese.
The Fortress of Jahara, on Yomi
The Chappa'ai on the Plain of Jahara had been silent for several hours and the battered remnants of the Imperial army of Susanowa-no-Mikoto had returned to their barracks to await their punishment for failure. The Dragon Guard had the privilege of controlling security in the Fortress of Jahara, but their numbers were so sorely depleted that the fox-helmed Kitsune warriors of the Empress Izanami remained at their posts. In the throne room of the Fortress, the Shinpan Daimyo Lord Hidaru, last survivor of the eight lords who had accompanied Lord Susanowa and his son, Lord Niningi, on the doomed expedition to Arcadia, was making his grovelling excuses to the Empress.
"I protested," Hidaru said, "but Lord Susanowa commanded me to take the remains of the force and retreat through the Chappa'ai in order that his beloved Queen-Mother would not be left unprotected and beset by the treachery of the Fudai and Tozama Daimyo."
Izanami narrowed her eyes, dangerously. "Your Lord gave you an order and you protested?" she asked.
Hidaru's cheek gave a neurotic twitch. "I...My honour insisted..."
A small door at the side of the great throne room opened; the Lady Inari, First Prime of Izanami and leader of the Kitsune, entered and genuflected before her mistress. "All hail, Empress Izanami," she said. "May you live for a million years under the light of the awestruck stars."
"Speak," Izanami ordered, deliberately insulting Hidaru by giving her attention to a mere Bushi, even the most favoured of her servants, over one of the Daimyo.
"Lady Tomoe and Lord Gojira have returned," Inari reported. "The Lady has brought...brought an...offering for you, My Empress."
"What offering?"
Inari looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Admit the Lady Tomoe," Izanami commanded, narrowing her eyes. "Do so at once and ask Lord Okuni-Nushi to join us here."
"Yes, My Empress."
Izanami turned back to Hidaru, who was visibly trembling. "What is it that Lady Tomoe has brought, do you think?" she asked.
"I..." Hidaru fell silent.
"I see that you do not believe that her tidings shall be glad."
This time it was the great doors at the back of the throne room which flew open. Lady Tomoe, warrior-concubine of Lord Niningi, strode into the room; Lord Gojira, First Prime of Lord Susanowa and leader of the Dragon Guards, followed close on her heels. Both were armed as though for battle and stained with blood and ashes, and the Lady carried a large, round, blood-soaked bundle in her hands. Lady Tomoe prostrated herself in an attitude of supplication at the foot of the throne, in line with Hidaru, while Gojira pressed his forehead to the marble floor seven paces behind. At the same time the small door reopened to admit Lord Okuni-Nushi, the elder, but less favoured, son of Lord Susanowa.
"Tomoe!" Okuni gasped, momentarily forgetting protocol and earning a reproving glance from his Queen Grandmother. He cast his eyes down and moved to stand at Izanami's right, but his gaze lifted, striving constantly, but without success, to catch the eyes of the Lady Tomoe.
"Speak, Lady Tomoe," Izanami ordered.
"Great Queen, Empress of Yomi, whose radiance is that of a thousand stars, I bring you grave tidings," Tomoe announced. She rose to her knees and laid her burden before her. "On Arcadia, our forces were assailed by enemy Jaffa of unknown allegiance. My Lord Susanowa's army was broken by treacherous stratagems and by the cowardice of those who should have defended him. Abandoned by his Daimyo, My Lord was slain and his son, Lord Niningi, my beloved lord and master, was left to rally what resistance he could to a cowardly enemy who struck from the shadows. Alas, his valour was in vain and he was overthrown. Determined that he would not retreat nor be slain by these barbarians, he ordered me to fulfil one final duty."
Tomoe drew her shoto. The Kitsune who flanked Izanami's throne tensed, gripping the hafts of their naginata, but the Goa'uld used the blade for nothing more than to cut open the knot which held her bloody bundle closed. At once they saw why she had cut instead of untying the knot, for no cloth that had wrapped such a prize should ever be used for anything else.
"Niningi!" Izanami cried out in despair as she stared down into the dead eyes of her favoured grandson.
"His death was honourable," Tomoe assured the Empress. "Surrounded by treachery and cowardice, he responded as a Daimyo should, with honour and courage."
"How can this be?" Izanami demanded. "How can my son and my grandson have been slain by the people of a savage world?"
"Lord Niningi was engaged in the siege of their city when the attack against Lord Susanowa's camp was made. We returned as swiftly as we could and found the camp in disarray; My Lord had been slain by the blast from an udajeet cannon and more than two of every three Bushi were either dead or had retreated through the Chappa'ai. Even the Dragon Guard were in retreat, deceived by a treacherous tongue."
"She lies!" Hidaru exclaimed. "I acted at My Lord's behest!"
"Be silent!" Izanami bellowed and as her voice echoed in every corner of the throne room, none could doubt that this was the Mother of Storms. She rose to her feet, her resplendent gown of red and gold flowing around her as she stepped down from the great throne to stand before the two Daimyu. Tomoe and Hidaru averted their eyes from the magnificence of the Queen-Empress.
Izanami held out her hand. "Okuni," she said, softly.
Okuni stepped down from his place beside the throne, drew his sword and laid the hilt in his grandmother's slender hand. She gripped the hilt and drew the blade down into an executioner's stance. Even under the lights of the throne room the blade seemed to shine with its own, ghostly light, for this was no common sword.
Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi – the Grass-Cutting Sword – was the finest blade ever forged on Yomi, a world which had refined the craft of the swordsmith to a sublime art. The blade of Kusanagi was almost four feet long and two fingers wide, yet her balance was so perfect that she felt as light as a feather. In the three thousand years since her forging she had never been honed, yet her edge was as razor sharp as it had been on the day she was first drawn from her scabbard. She had no equal and never would have, for the blood that first stained her perfect blade was that of the genius who had created her; Lord Susanowa would brook no rival for his sword. Even the composition of her blade was unique; the secret of those alloys, which shone like the moon under the slightest illumination and sang like a swan when Kusanagi clove her path through the air, died that day.
Six hundred years ago, the God of Storms had brought his two sons together and offered the blade as a gift to the one who could best the other in battle. He had thought to give Kusanagi to his favourite, Niningi, but paternal pride had blinded him. Fighting with wooden bokken, Okuni-Nushi had defeated his brother in a matter of moments and won the Grass-Cutting Sword for his own. In revenge, Susanowa had granted to Niningi the one thing which Okuni craved more than Kusanagi.
Now, Izanami held Kusanagi in her slender hands and stared down on the only two Daimyo to return from the blood-soaked fields of Arcadia. "The deaths of my son and grandson must be avenged," she said. "Lord Niningi's head lies at my feet; his father grows cold on alien soil. The ones responsible for this outrage must be punished."
Kusanagi sang her deadly song. With barely a flick of her delicate wrists, Izanami launched the sword into a swift, figure-of-eight pass. When the sword became still once more, there was blood on her blade – red and purple mingling on the pale, effulgent surface.
Okuni took a step forward, a look of horror on his face.
Slowly, one corner of the shoulder plate of Hidaru's armour slid free and fell to the ground, severed by a single clean, straight cut. The clatter as it struck the floor broke a silence as deep as a grave and all eyes turned towards it; all save those of Izanami and Hidaru. The Empress held Hidaru's gaze with remorseless intensity, never breaking the implacable contact, even when the traitor's head toppled slowly from his neck. It struck the floor with a soft crack and bounced to a halt at Izanami's feet.
As the body fell, Izanami cleaned the blood from Kusanagi's blade and passed the sword back to her grandson.
"Lady Tomoe," Izanami said.
Tomoe looked up, startled to be alive.
"I thank you for your diligence. You honour my grandson by your service; I believe that you know what is expected of you?"
"Yes, My Empress."
"For the time being, Lord Okuni-Nushi will care for your needs," Izanami decreed. She settled herself serenely on her throne. "Guards, remove the body of the false Daimyo and display it upon the walls of the Fortress; let the blood lie until it stains the floor, that all shall know that a traitor died here today. All of you shall leave me now; leave an old woman alone with her woes and her thoughts."
"Yes, My Empress," Okuni replied for them all. As his grandmother sank into the depths of a contemplative depression, he signalled for the attendant Kitsune to remove the body and for Gojira to withdraw. Then he stooped and took Tomoe by the arm and led her away via the small door. They passed from the throne room into the private antechamber of the royal family, where Inari waited, standing like a statue.
"Stay here," Okuni ordered the Bushi woman. "Attend upon my grandmother when she calls for you. In the meantime send tidings and summon all of the Shinpan Daimyo. Lodge them in the outer palace and have them watched closely when they arrive. In this time of sorrow, Our Empress must decide who to trust; we must know where those she decides against are to be found."
"Shall I strengthen the guard on the Fortress?" Inari asked.
"Are the Dragon Guard to be trusted?" Okuni asked Tomoe. "Did they abandon my father on Arcadia?"
Tomoe shook her head. "They were misled by the orders of a traitor."
Okuni nodded, accepting Tomoe's recommendation without question. "Have the Dragon Guard resume their duties," he told Inari, "but keep your Kitsune in place. Leave nothing to chance."
"I obey, My Lord," Inari replied with a deep bow. "And...what of Lord Gojira?" she asked. Whenever they donned their armour, Bushi were supposed to set aside all personal concerns, but the Lady could not conceal the more-than-professional interest behind her concern.
Lord Okuni noticed this lapse, but he let it pass. Inari had a duty to serve the Daimyo without bias or favour, but she also owed a duty to her husband, the Bushi who wore the mantle of Gojira.
"Lord Gojira is without fault or blame," Tomoe assured Inari. "He is to be commended for his good and faithful service."
Tomoe followed obediently as Okuni led her into the royal apartments and up to his own chambers in the west tower. There was an austerity to his rooms that was in stark contrast to the opulence of his brother's dwellings in the east wing. Niningi had surrounded himself with luxury and comforts and the trappings of past victories. Okuni lived in a simpler fashion and his only trophies were the swords of those he had defeated in personal combat. The only decorations were the dozens of wind chimes which hung from the ceiling and gave voice to a soft, resonant song as they entered and even those were not a frivolous inclusion. It would be almost impossible for a person to cross the room without the breath of their passage disturbing the chimes.
On the threshold of Okuni's innermost chamber, Tomoe stopped. None were permitted to enter the lord's rooms; not even the palace servants disturbed the isolation of Okuni's sanctum.
"Enter," he said. "I have no secrets from you, Tomoe."
Even at the heart of his private domain, Okuni allowed no triviality. The furnishings were sparse and functional, but there was an elegance to them which was more pleasing in many ways than the gaudy trappings of Niningi's chambers. The room was dominated by a row of four shrines, each surmounted by a kanji which gave the name of the one to whom the shrine was dedicated. The larger shrines, set slightly behind and flanking the smaller, were crowned by the names of Izanami and her long-dead husband, Izanagi. The Daimyo knew that they were not the gods they claimed to be and usually sought to forget their dead, but such was the power of his memory that even the royal family revered Izanagi as a divine ancestor.
Of the two inner shrines, one was expected. Of course Okuni, as a dutiful son, kept a shrine to his father, however much he hated Susanowa. The other was a surprise, however.
"Amaterasu," Tomoe gasped. "You keep a shrine to your mother? But that is forbidden, Lord Okuni."
"My father's hatred can not change the fact that she is my mother and a part of my memory is hers. I am also the elder son; I remember her where my brother did not. She left while Niningi was but a prim'ta and he knew only my father's polemics, whereas I almost left with her."
"Why did you not?" Tomoe asked, rhetorically.
Okuni loosened his sash and removed his swords. He laid his shoto on the rack which stood before the shrines, but he passed Kusanagi, still sheathed, to Tomoe. She accepted it, reverently, marvelling at the perfection which the sword clearly possessed even when her blade was hidden.
"So beautiful," she whispered. She ran her fingers over the silk-wrapped grip, touched the ivory skin of the dragon which wound about the pommel, then turned her attention to the tsuba, crafted with Okuni's own hands to correct a slight imbalance caused by the difference between his hands and his father's. The guard disc bore an image; a warrior, sword raised for a killing blow, carved with exquisite attention to detail
"My father was enraged when he saw that image; he would have ordered me to forge another tsuba, but that would have meant acknowledging my actions in public."
Tomoe inspected the carving on the tsuba more closely. The warrior was bare-headed and after a long moment Tomoe recognised the face; it was not a face she was used to seeing, save in reverse.
"I stayed because you were here," Okuni said. "I remained in my father's house because you were trapped here as a hostage to your family's obedience and even then I loved you. Giving you to Niningi was the cruellest thing that my father ever did to me and I forged that guard as a permanent reminder of the oath I swore to him when he did so; that one day I would have both Kusanagi and you."
"I am unworthy of such devotion," Tomoe insisted.
"I do not think so," he replied, "and I offer you all the protection of my household in your time of troubles."
"I thank you, Lord Okuni-Nushi, but I need no man's protection." She looked up and for the first time in six hundred years she gazed directly into the eyes of the one she loved.
"He wished us to clash with real blades when we fought over the sword," Okuni said. "I wish that I had accepted that challenge."
"No regrets, my love," she whispered. "Not tonight." She wound her arm about his neck, pulled him hard against her armoured body and kissed him passionately.
*
Hajima village, twenty years ago
The house was burning; the Dragon Guards were taking no chances of losing their quarry this time.
"Get the children out," Nekai Yukio ordered, knowing that the attack would not long be delayed. She did not speak of the secret tunnels out loud; the ninja all knew and to mention them would only alert the Bushi to their existence. "Ashime! Kataoka Ashime!"
"I am here, sister," Ashime said, materialising from the smoke.
"I will buy time for the escape," she said. "I trust you with my greatest treasure."
Ashime nodded. "You honour me, Yukio."
Yukio clasped Ashime's arm. "Good luck, sister. Look after them, learn who betrayed us and tell my mother what became of me." She turned her back on her comrades-in-arms and focused on the door. Her hands gripped the hilt of the stolen katana so tight that her knuckles turned white and she had to force herself to relax her hold. Only two others stood with her, the rest were gone, fled to fight on their own terms, as was the way of their kindred.
In a flash of light the door exploded and the first Dragon charged through, shrugging off a hail of plasma blasts which did nothing more than heat the surface of his armour.
"Hold fire!" Yukio commanded. "Hold fire!" She raised the katana so that the Bushi could see the blade. "Single combat!" she challenged. "If I win, my comrades go free."
The Bushi raised his hand to the stud on his collar and the snarling dragon face of his helm retracted. Yukio was almost startled to see that he had a handsome face beneath that hideous mask. "And if I win?"
"They surrender to you."
"Why should I fight a ninja in single combat?" he asked. "We can easily overwhelm you. Surrender now, for you know that you can not beat me and I have no wish to kill one as lovely as you."
"Nor I to kill one as handsome as you," she replied; if should could keep him talking that was more time for the others to escape. She knew full well that he was right to be confident; she could not long keep him occupied in combat.
"Surrender, or die."
"Never," Yukio replied. "Do you accept my offer? Or are you afraid to face a ninja witch in an honourable duel."
"You have no honour," he accused.
"Perhaps not; but you do."
After a moment's hesitation, the Bushi passed his dragon blade to the warrior behind him and reached for his sword. Ordinarily that would be the moment when Yukio would strike, but to delay him as long as possible she would have to follow the forms.
The warrior drew his sword. "What is your name?" he asked her. "For this you deserve a marked grave at least."
"Nekai Yukio," she replied. "What is yours?"
"Tokuwara Mifune." Without taking his eyes from her, he spoke to the Bushi at his shoulder. "If she defeats me, release the others."
The Bushi raised his sword into a high, aggressive guard; Yukio kept hers low and defensive.
"Begin," she said.
She stepped forward, raising her blade to parry the Bushi's downward swing. Mifune dropped his blade in a tight curve below her guard and swept it up, slicing deep into her hip and laying her body open to the shoulder. Yukio stumbled back, awed by the speed of her defeat. She saw plasma blasts strike Mifune's armour and he groped for the stud of his helmet, but then a blue light filled her vision and she knew no more.
The City of Thebes on Arcadia, now
Nekai Yukio awoke with a start, feeling the impact of the sword as though it had once more been real, not just a dream. Slowly she calmed herself, but the ache in her body would not go away; it felt as fresh as the day when Freyja's machines had raised her from the dead nearly twenty years ago. She rose and washed her face, then studied her reflection in the Tau'ri-made mirror over the sink.
"Gojira," she whispered to herself. "My killer, now Lord of the Dragons. You survived, didn't you? You live still on Yomi."
The thought made her feel afraid. She had studied swordplay for years, learning how to fight one-on-one or one-against-many from some of the greatest warriors in the galaxy. She had told herself that this was simply part of a pursuit of excellence which had consumed so much of her life, but now she was forced to admit that she had studied so that one day she would be able to defeat her killer. Now she had faced him again and she did not believe that she was good enough, not even with all the enhancements that her Asgard nanites brought her.
"But we will meet again, Tokuwara Mifune" she said, with a sick certainty.
*
"So," Minister Palmys began. "Miss Nekai; perhaps you can explain to us, exactly what is the threat to Arcadia and how immediate is it?"
Yukio stood up and gazed at the assembled commanders. Palmys, the Theban Minister of Defence, the Spartian Hyperètès Glycon, Warden Turaca of the Scavengers, the Jaffa leaders Rya'c and Rehetep, Jacob-Selmak of the Tok'ra and Colonel Jack O'Neill of the Tau'ri. Yukio herself was only a pilot on board the Asgard carrier Stupid Idea and she felt rather overwhelmed in such august company; that they were in essence looking to her to lead their debate would have left a lesser woman speechless, but Yukio had a self-possession born of many years of training.
"You must understand the relationships which exist between the Goa'uld on Yomi," she began, "relationships closely tied up with the environment of that world. Mikoto is an isolated system, surrounded by ion storms and intense electromagnetic radiation fields, which for centuries were believed to be impassable. Many thousands of years ago, a fleet of Goa'uld ha'tak vessels under the command of the System Lord Izanagi and his Queen, Lady Izanami, strayed off course, was caught in the ion storms and forced to crash land. During the millennia which passed while they mapped the currents of the ion storms with sufficient accuracy to rise from the cradle of Yomi once more, their culture developed in isolation.
"With no other worlds to spread to, the Goa'uld could not afford to war and feud among themselves with their customary savagery. Consequently, Izanagi rigidly enforced the kyuba no michi, a set of informal rules by which his underlords, the Daimyo, had long conducted their affairs; in principle at least. He devised two separate yet intertwined codes of conduct: the Buke Sho Hatto and the Bushido; the codes by which the Daimyo and the Bushi – the Jaffa of Yomi – have led their lives to this day. Deviation from these codes of conduct was deemed to be treason, not only against Izanagi but against all the Goa'uld under his rule."
"No wonder their methods and equipment are so antiquated," Turaca said. "They were out of circulation for even longer than I was."
Yukio nodded her agreement. "During the period of isolation the Daimyo became very set in their ways, even in Goa'uld terms. Despite this, their forces swelled; their human and Jaffa slaves bred freely and Izanami produced a steady flow of symbiotes. The Bushi became organised into families, the ji-samurai, each family in service to a particular Daimyo for whom they toiled and provided warriors. The unblended and unimplanted humans formed a peasant underclass beneath the ji-samurai, as well as providing fresh hosts, and Yomi had substantial reserves of naquadah and trinium. When at last the Daimyo emerged from the ion storms – perhaps three thousand years ago – they were powerful enough to retake their other holdings from those of their children who had supplanted them in their absence.
"Unfortunately for the Daimyo, Izanagi was killed during the re-emergence and that damaged their prestige. Izanami rallied her forces, led them to extract bloody vengeance on Izanagi's killers and then stepped back into the shadows and allowed their favourite children, Susanowa and Amaterasu, to take control of Yomi. Then, fifteen-hundred years later, Amaterasu tired of the limited worldview of her brother-husband; she left him and went solo, taking many of the Daimyo with her. Fearing further betrayal, Susanowa carried out a bloody cull of the remaining Daimyo and separated the survivors into three parts.
"The Shinpan Daimyo were the most trusted and held domains in the fertile Greenlands, on the boundaries of the Plain of Jahara and on the Western shores, forming a barrier against any army that might try to reach Susanowa. The remainder of the West – the wild and dangerous lands to the north and south of Jahara – was given over to the Fudai Daimyo. Those he trusted least became the Tozama Daimyo and were banished to the lands over the Ocean of the East. Later, even the Eastern lands were given to the Fudai and the Tozama restricted to the governance of dominions on other worlds; without the charts of the ion storms and the codes for the defences, they could never return to threaten Susanowa.
"Susanowa could not adequately rule without a source of new symbiotes to secure his control of the ji-samurai and so Izanami emerged from her ‘retirement' and became the new Queen-Empress of Yomi."
"Queen and Empress?" Jack asked. "Isn't that a bit much, even for a Goa'uld?"
"The Empress of Yomi and a Goa'uld Queen," Yukio explained. "Izanami is the temporal ruler of the world, in conjunction with her Shogun, and a mother of the Goa'uld. Since the betrayal of her daughter she has been fiercely protective of her remaining child, and of the two sons of Susanowa and Amaterasu, Niningi was her favourite. She was bound to them by forces of love and honour and she will not forgive their deaths. She will strike at Arcadia with every scrap of her rage and her power."
"And what can we do to stop them?" Turaca asked.
"Yomi will be in turmoil," Yukio explained. "Following the death of Susanowa, the Daimyo will test Izanami's rule and she will test their loyalty. If enough of the Daimyo turn against her at once then she will be forced to call off her revenge in order to deal with her nobles; she is powerful, but she has too few warriors to destroy you and defend herself. If this happens, Izanami will have no choice but to declare Arcadia unworthy of revenge. She will then be unable to attack again without losing face."
Jack looked incredulous. "You're saying that the only way to stop her invading is to make her announce that attacking Arcadia would be so not the thing?"
"In a manner of speaking. However, our part will be simply to stir up the Daimyo."
"How?" Palmys asked.
"For that we will require help," Yukio admitted. "Fortunately, there is a resistance movement on Yomi which we may be able to approach. A small force or a single agent could make a landing on Yomi, contact the ninja clans and foment sufficient discord to protect Arcadia. I can see no other way to defend your world."
Glycon snorted. "Well then; who do we send?"
*
Jahara
As the warm, morning sun shone in on her, Tomoe woke and rose reluctantly from Okuni's bed. Her clothes and armour lay where they had fallen, soiled with blood, dirt and ash. In Niningi's rooms, slaves would already have taken her gear away to be cleaned and mended. In Niningi's rooms, the ache to which she woke would have been the healing of bruises given by Niningi himself, and she would have been gripped once more by the nausea that her lord and master's touch always woke in her, instead of the idle languor which had almost kept her abed this morning.
Tomoe paused by the four shrines and laid her hand upon Kusanagi's hilt, gazing once more at her own image on the sword guard. "One day," she whispered, sadly. "But only for a day."
With as little sound as possible, Tomoe bathed herself and dressed in a set of Okuni's wargear. She was as tall as he was, and the tunic and trousers fit her well enough. Her own armour she donned unwashed, then took up her swords. She forced herself not to look back as she left the room, fearing that her heart would flinch from her duty if she allowed her eyes to rest on her love once more. At least she had lain with him once; that would have to be enough for a lifetime.
Tomoe picked her way carefully through the wind chimes, terrified that Okuni would wake, but he slept deeply. From the west tower, she descended to the stables. Her horse was still tired from the battle and so she took another; one of her late master's finest stallions. She girded the steed for war and led him from the fortress by a side gate, for she did not ride out in honour. Until her penance was done, her honour was in abeyance and she must go forth like a thief in the night. She rode hard from Jahara to the Chappa'ai and found that her arrival there was not altogether unexpected.
"My Lady," Gojira said, bowing low before her.
"Go home," she replied. "Your duty lies with the Empress."
"I have failed my master," Gojira insisted. "I beg of you, allow me to walk at your side."
Tomoe shook her head. "Do not argue with me, Bushi. You will open the Chappa'ai for me, then return and tell the Empress that I have discharged my honour. If you do not then my name will be accursed for eternity; I trust you to be the bearer of my honour, Lord Gojira."
"Your trust shall not be vain," he promised, reluctantly. "If you will not allow me to come with you, I ask this of you; carry my dragon blade with you." He held up his hands, proffering the weapon.
Tomoe reached down and accepted it. "Open the Chappa'ai, Gojira."
"Yes, My Lady."
*
Arcadia
"How long until that shield is ready?" Glycon asked. He had returned to the Gate, leaving the debate over who should go to Yomi in the hands of the professional talkers.
"Ten minutes less than the last time you asked," Setneb replied, testily. The golden-haired woman was a brilliant engineer but she lacked people skills.
"I last asked an hour ago," Glycon pointed out.
"The technicians are still replacing the burned out capacitors and every time I have to start my calculations again you lose another fifty minutes," she explained, tersely.
"I have no idea how Warden Turaca puts up with you," Glycon sighed.
"Suffice to say that my husband finds that there are sufficient compensations for my brusque manner," she assured him, primly. "Now hush and let me work on the numbers."
The Scavengers had set up an array of instruments in front of the Stargate with the objective of creating an equivalent of the Earth Stargate's iris using an adapted force field generator from the main hangar of the abandoned ha'tak. The challenge was proving to be correctly aligning the field with the event horizon of the Stargate; if the alignment was off by the slightest degree, either the wormhole itself would be disrupted, causing damage to the Gate, or an exiting object would have just enough room to materialise within the energy matrix of the shield itself, causing a catastrophic feedback.
"I just don't feel safe," Glycon admitted.
"You know she's as likely to blast us from orbit as to attack through the Stargate anyway," Setneb pointed out.
Glycon rolled his eyes. "Thank you. That doesn't help a bit."
"Uh oh."
"What?"
"The superconductors are powering up," Setneb said, hastily packing up her gear. "The Gate..."
"To arms!" Glycon ordered as the Gate thundered into life. "Defence teams stand by, shields to the ready, spear guns primed."
Glycon stayed where he was, only backing towards the defensive line once Setneb and her technicians were out of the way. He turned and jogged the last ten yards as the event horizon flashed open behind him.
"Any chance of that shield?"
Setneb shook her head. "The circuits are still fried; we need at least ten minutes more even to reset."
"No time for that," Glycon said. "Any response to the challenge?" he asked his signals officer.
The officer shook his head.
"Stand by."
The event horizon rippled and a rider emerged, armed and armoured in the fashion of Susanowa's Bushi. Her head was bare, however, revealing that she was a woman of striking beauty; striking enough to make the assembled pride of the Arcadian armies hesitate. The idea of women who fought in war was new to the Thebans and anathema to the Spartians and the idea of firing on a woman was still alien to them. The woman charged, the blasts from her dragon blade harmlessly boiling the surface from the line of hoplons, but the hoplites' reluctance to shoot her would have cost them dearly if their allies had not had fewer scruples in such matters.
The kinetic blast from Setneb's compression pistol slapped the warrior-woman from her saddle. The horse first drew to a halt and then turned and fled back the way it had come. Things would have gone very badly for the animal if the Stargate had not closed a few moments before it reached the event horizon.
"Is that it?" Glycon asked.
"Seems so," Setneb replied.
"Someone catch that horse," the Hyperètès ordered, levelling his zat'nik'tel at the downed woman. She looked unconscious, but he was not prepared to trust appearances. "I don't want it galloping off and exploding. Signals officer; call the city and get Miss Nekai down here as soon as possible. I want to know what this was all about."
*
Tomoe returned to consciousness with a sickly feeling of failure and found herself in manacles. She strained against her bonds, but found that they were sound. Cheated of an honourable death in battle she gave a slow exhalation and gave up her life, sending the most potent toxins that her body could devise burning through her host's bloodstream.
"You have probably noticed by now that your ability to destroy yourself has been inhibited."
Tomoe opened her eyes, alarmed and very much alive. "My erstwhile prisoner," she realised. "Damia, yes? Where is my armour?"
"Actually, my name is Nekai Yukio, Lady Tomoe," the ninja replied, toying with a slender needle. "Your armour was removed when we stripped you to search for hidden weapons and explosives."
"You dare...!"
"I was the only one who saw anything," Yukio assured her. "You need not fear for your dignity; in my time I have been a fully trained handmaiden to high ladies of the Daimyo, among many other things. You have a very impressive collection of tattoos."
Tomoe looked only slightly mollified and refused to be drawn into small talk about body art. "And my weapons have been removed?"
"Of course."
"What have you done to me, witch?" Tomoe demanded. "How dare you block my control of my own body. And how?"
"The Daimyo are not the only ones with magic," Yukio assured her.
"I do not believe in magic, Nekai Yukio." Tomoe paused, thoughtfully. "That is a name which I know. You are one of the Nekai ninja clan? I believed that your kind had been wiped from the face of the world." The Goa'uld paused again. "I heard tell of a Nekai Yukio once, but she is long dead."
"You have heard of me? I suppose that makes you and I equal; I have heard of you, after all."
"I have long desired to meet a ninja," Tomoe admitted. "Although I had imagined that our circumstances would be reversed."
"I am sure," Yukio replied.
"As indeed they were," the Goa'uld added. "With my mercy so spurned, I do not believe I shall be taking pity on any other prisoners in the foreseeable future. However, you have not answered my question."
"I do not have to tell you what ojigi is, do I?"
Tomoe snorted. "The form of ritual suicide practiced by the Daimyo; a blade or needle is driven through the throat, into the host's spinal column and thence to the symbiote's central neural trunk."
Yukio flexed the needle between her fingers. "Incredible that something so similar to that can preserve life instead of taking it. The art is known to us as taido; the Tau'ri call it acupuncture. Under a dozen names it is practiced by many humans the galaxy across as a form of medicine. How it came to my people I am uncertain, but we have refined its use on the Daimyo. With one needle, placed correctly in your neural trunk, I can paralyse your ability to terminate your host; another could override your control altogether and release the host to speak in your place."
"No!" Tomoe cried, terrified.
"I have no intention of doing so," Yukio assured her. "We have learned that in most cases, after about ten years it is little kindness to release the host's consciousness. They become confused and greatly distressed; in one as old as you, they would be all but insensible and certainly no useful source of information."
"I showed pity when you were a captive," Tomoe reminded Yukio. "If you have any sense of obligation you will repay my kindness and kill me now, while I can still salvage my honour."
"Fortunately I don't," Yukio said. "Not towards the Daimyo anyway. I will keep you alive as long as you are useful to us."
"I will tell you nothing."
"That is certainly what I have told them, but they believe your knowledge of Yomi will prove useful to their efforts."
Tomoe frowned. "Who are ‘they'? And what do they want from me that your knowledge can not provide."
"I'm a little out of date," Yukio admittedly, evasively. "I will leave you to consider your position for now." She turned and walked past Tomoe.
The Goa'uld found that she could not turn to watch the ninja. "I have killed hundreds of your people!" she cried out. "You are sworn to my destruction, ninja! How can you leave me alive?"
"Because I am no longer sworn to your destruction, nor that of any Daimyo," Yukio replied. "I am a protector, not a destroyer." With a hiss, a door closed and Tomoe was left alone in the small space of her prison.
In the cabin of the teltac, the hold of which acted as Tomoe's prison, Yukio stood face to face with her fellow jailor.
"I feel bad about this," Yukio admitted. "I should remove the needle and allow her to kill herself."
Sam sighed. "What she knows could be the only chance we have of destabilising Izanami's power base and saving Arcadia."
Yukio shook her head. "I am not sure you understand how this woman works. She is not just blustering, Sam; she will not talk. She came here to die; only to die. Tomoe was not planning to make a one-woman assault on the city and conquer Arcadia; she did not even hope to spill any blood but her own. When she became Niningi's concubine she subjugated her life to his. For a woman who has already abandoned her life on the path of honour, any pain is better than shame."
"You sound like you admire her for that," Sam noted.
"Not for that," Yukio assured her. "The Daimyo and the Bushi alike have a pathetic obsession with the forms of honour. It consumes their lives and makes the work of a ninja much easier than it could otherwise be. But her...Her I admire. There is compassion in her, Sam, and an honour that runs deeper than the hollow rituals of the Buke Sho Hatto. Besides; I do owe her; I and all those who would have died on the crucifixion field."
"So whatever you said, you do feel a sense of obligation towards her?"
"Of course," Yukio replied. "Even ninjas have their honour; an honour very like that I see in her."
"They're holding another planning session," Sam said, evasively, not wanting to get involved in a discussion of Goa'uld virtues. "You can raise your protests there."
*
"I do feel that this is our business," Palmys argued. He was the sole representative of Arcadia at this session, in discussion with SG-1 – less Teal'c, who was assisting with the Jaffa resettlement – and Yukio. "We appreciate all that you have done for us, Colonel O'Neill, but it is because of that that I am reluctant to ask you to undertake this mission. If Izanami is set on our destruction that is one thing; if you become involved then you risk drawing her wrath against the Earth as well."
"We can look after ourselves," Jack assured him.
Jonas coughed. "I hate to raise the question, Colonel, but will the government of the United States be as sanguine about the prospect of another Goa'uld invasion."
Jack sighed. "There's not going to be an invasion because we will succeed without being detected. Anyway, if you send an Arcadian team and they get caught, Izanami will have even more reason to attack you."
Yukio nodded her head. "Indeed, if she could show that you were attacking Yomi then Izanami could almost certainly bring many of the Shinpan and Fudai Daimyo into line behind her attack."
"Also, SG-1 are pretty experienced in offworld operations," Sam pointed out. "Can any of your people say the same?"
"I won't suggest the Scavengers, they hadn't left Niflheim for generations, but there are the Jaffa," Palmys suggested.
Yukio shook her head. "The ninja would not trust a Bushi," she said.
"Besides," Jack concluded. "You need all your best people here to concentrate on integrating the Jaffa into your culture and rebuilding your defences. Earth can spare us for a few weeks and General Hammond is willing for SG-1 to undertake this operation as a goodwill mission to build links with Arcadia, the Tok'ra and the Asgard. On a personal note," he added, "I like this place. Alright, we had a bad start, but since then Arcadia has taken on three groups of refugees at our recommendation and you've never once jerked us around over diplomatic protocols."
"We wouldn't dare," Palmys assured him with a roll of his eyes. "With Miss Rede arguing your corner, all red tape is, is more rope for her to hang us with."
Jack smiled. "All I'm saying is that I love you guys and I'm not about to sit by and let you get stomped if I can help it."
"There is also a problem with SG-1 taking the mission," Yukio admitted.
"Teal'c," Jack agreed. "The ninja wouldn't trust us if we travelled with a Jaffa. We thought of that, but it works out. Bra'tac has asked for Teal'c and Rya'c both to attend a pow-wow with a number of prospective Free Jaffa leaders. Anyway, Teal'c is long overdue some personal time and he wants to catch up with his son and the rest of the resistance."
"You seem to have thought of everything, Colonel," Yukio admitted.
"I'm not just a pretty face," Jack assured her.
"I am certain; however, it is your face that concerns me."
Jack looked quizzical. "I beg your pardon?"
"I am sure that when you speak of infiltrating Yomi you are expecting a world not dissimilar to Chulak, populated by people drawn from a broad genetic stock; descendents of the strongest representatives of dozens of worlds. However, you must remember that our origins lie in isolation. The world of Yomi is peopled almost exclusively by the descendants of Izanagi's personal staff, all of whom were drawn from a single population. Simply put, Colonel; you would stick out like a sore thumb."
"Meaning?"
"Over-sized and conspicuously pink," Jonas suggested.
"To be blunt," Yukio agreed. "There is simply no way that any of you could pass for Yoman without dramatic cosmetic surgery. And possibly the loss of a few inches from each leg."
"You didn't think to mention this before?" Jack asked.
"My intention was to go alone," Yukio replied. "I am the only one with a chance of contacting and convincing the ninja clans, after all."
"Isn't there any way?" Sam asked. "No disguise that we could wear?"
"Well..." Yukio thought for a long moment; the ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "There is something that might suffice, and I admit that I would be happier not to go alone. The thought of confronting my kin after so long fills me with fear."
"It's your business, Palmys," Jack said. "It's up to you."
Palmys chuckled. "I can think of no-one on Arcadia better qualified than SG-1. If Miss Nekai believes that she can see you safely to the planet – and your superiors are happy for you to go – then you have my blessing and all our prayers will go with you."
"Thanks," Jack said. "We'll try not to let you down."
*
Jahara
Okuni-Nushi was not best pleased to find himself alone when he woke. Once he had found that Tomoe had not only gone from his side but also from his quarters, he dressed and went in search of her. His interrogation of the omnipresent slaves who thronged the halls of Jahara led him to the stables, then to the gates and thence to the Chappa'ai, where he learned of her departure. When he learned that Lord Gojira himself had entered the coordinates for her destination, Okuni rode back to the fortress as though every demon in the Thousand Hells were following at his heels.
"Gojira!" Okuni flung open the doors of the First Prime's chambers and stormed in. Lord Gojira and the Lady Inari sat at breakfast within, although the leader of the Dragon Guard showed little sign of appetite. They stared back at Okuni in surprise for a long moment, before they rose from their seats and bowed low.
"My Lord," Gojira said. "How may I serve you."
"Where is she?"
Gojira glanced up, then back down again, fighting the urge to stare at Lord Okuni's dishevelled appearance. "You speak of the Lady Tomoe?" he asked.
"Of course," Okuni snapped.
"The Lady Tomoe has returned to Arcadia to expunge the shame of her flight," Gojira replied.
Okuni's face became ashen. "No!"
"My Lord," Gojira said, gently, "you knew that this must be. The Buke Sho Hatto..."
Okuni stooped and dragged the Bushi to his feet. "And you?" he demanded. "What of your shame, Lord Gojira? Why do you live when she has gone to her death?"
"Mine is a different code," Gojira replied, voice choked with grief and pain. "Obedience above all. I would have returned, but My Lady would not permit me to accompany her. There is no honour for me in death; my penance is the long, hard road. My duty, my honour, my code obliges me to live with the knowledge that I have failed My Lord Susanowa. And...that I have failed her."
Okuni released the warrior and turned away. Gojira and Inari cast their eyes down at the floor so that they would not witness one of the Daimyo giving way to a shameful burst of emotion. Without another word, Okuni-Nushi stumbled, grief-stricken, from the room.
Gojira closed the door behind the Goa'uld. "I do not think that he will long survive her," he whispered, aware that he was speaking treason to even consider the death of one of the Daimyo.
"He must not be lost," Inari replied. "He is the embodiment of honour; the finest of all the Daimyo. Now that Lord Susanowa is dead, My Empress will be lost without Lord Okuni-Nushi. Even she does not realise how much she relies on him."
Gojira returned to his seat in silence, unable to say the things which he wanted to say without dishonouring his dead master. "I have failed them," he said at last.
"No," Inari assured him, kneeling at his side. "You have only ever done your duty. Lady Tomoe herself said that you were without fault or blame in this. Would you set your voice against hers?"
"I would not."
"Then why must you punish yourself for that which your betters see as undeserving of rebuke?"
Gojira hung his head. "I am a haunted man," he confessed to his wife. "On Arcadia I came face to face with a gaki."
"Peasant superstition," Inari insisted. "That is the past; there is no power on this world but the Daimyo."
"I have seen the spirit of a woman whom I killed rise up against me," he insisted. "She fought like a demon, flinging warriors left and right with a strength beyond any I have witnessed." Gojira reached out and hooked his fingers into a leather cord that hung around Inari's neck. From beneath her robe he drew a small talisman; a tiny crystal phial containing a trace of russet powder.
Inari raised her hand and covered the phial. "You are mistaken, Gojira," she said, with false confidence. The certainty in her husband's eyes had convinced her that he spoke the truth, but she did not wish to see him unmanned and destroyed by fear. "She is dead."
"There was no mistake, although I tried to deny it. It was Nekai Yukio and she knew her killer as surely as I knew her. Twenty years ago I slew one touched by the spirits. I saw her turn to light before my eyes; the blood on my blade – the blood that now hangs at your throat – the only trace that she had ever existed. Now she has returned to haunt me and I know that I can never know peace until I have faced her; even if she kills me. But I fear...I fear that she has come to take from me that which I took from her."
Inari's eyes narrowed. "Never," she said, firmly. "Not so long as I have strength."
"What can strength serve against the kami, Inari?" he asked. "What shall be shall be; it is dangerous to resist the will of the spirits."
Inari turned his face to hers, then she leaned close and kissed him in a gesture of unity. "It is dangerous to resist the will of Inari," she replied.
"My sins have found me out, Inari," Gojira whispered. "I am hounded by this hungry ghost and it is she who brought about the fall of Lord Susanowa; I know it. Because of my crime against the kami My Lord was slain. I will not let her rage consume you as well."
"What shall be shall be," Inari told him. "I will stand by you, my brave dragon, come what may."
Gojira, First Prime of Susanowa and leader of the Dragon Guard, laid his head on his wife's breast and wept like a child.
*
The Pyramid of Helios
"So, what is this?" Jack asked. "It's not quite a teltac is it?"
Fora'l laughed. "Parts of her used to be," he said. "I'm afraid she is not armed...yet. She is a work in progress."
The vessel was a longer and sleeker than a teltac and the engines larger in proportion to the rest of the hull. The prow had been decorated with a figurehead, a great golden bird that seemed to emerge from the nose of the ship, wings sweeping back along the hull. The skin of the vessel had been polished to a high shine with the meticulous pride of the committed gearhead; Jack would have worried about Fora'l's relationship with his betrothed had he not known that Ker'nau was as devoted to mechanics as Fora'l was.
"You do know it's a risky business refitting Goa'uld vessels?" Jack warned.
"You mean the recall devices?" Fora'l chuckled. "Please, Colonel; they were the first things we learned to disable."
"How nice for you." Jack turned to face the hatch, set high in the side of the craft, as Teal'c emerged and descended the short ladder. "How's it looking?"
"The construction of the vessel is most impressive," Teal'c replied. "The control systems are more akin to those of a glider than a teltac, but I believe you will find them quite intuitive."
Fora'l laughed again. "I should hope so, Tek'ma te. We have incorporated many refinements to the controls based on Dilg'a's reports of the X-302. More importantly, however, this vessel will match the swiftest vessels in any Goa'uld fleet for speed."
Ker'nau dropped down from the hatch and crossed to stand with one arm around Fora'l. "With the assistance of some of the Scavengers we have developed a new form of radiation defence, built into the hull plating, which should assist you in passing unscathed through an electromagnetic storm. She also has a cloaking device more efficient than those developed by Sokar and Apophis; there should be little difficulty in landing undetected."
"Does she have a name?" Jack asked.
"Shakka," Ker'nau replied. "We named her ‘Freedom'. The first space vessel built – not scavenged – by the Free Jaffa."
"Sweet," Jack noted, approvingly. "We'll take it."
*
Yukio climbed out of the rear hatch of the teltac; the airlock slid closed behind her, sealing the hold against the cold vacuum of space. "Lady Tomoe is secured," she reported. "The controls on the communicating door have been disabled; we can go through from the cabin side, but even if she gets free, Tomoe will be unable to open the hatch in the bulkhead.
"What about the airlock controls?" Sam asked. "If Tomoe wants to kill herself..."
"She only needs the needle out of her neck and she can kill herself with a thought," Yukio reminded Sam. "Nevertheless, the panel has been disabled. I am still against taking her with us."
"The Colonel won't authorise what amounts to an execution," Sam explained. "We don't kill prisoners and we don't allow them to kill themselves."
"What you are doing is torturing her," Yukio assured Sam.
"I'm sorry," Sam said.
Yukio sighed. "It is not your fault; nor Colonel O'Neill's. Come; let us make the ship ready for flight."
Sam nodded, but she let Yukio go ahead while she walked over to Teal'c. "Take care of yourself," she cautioned. "And watch out; remember what happened the last time you went to meet with new recruits to the cause."
"I will be cautious," Teal'c promised. "Rya'c and I will travel with Bra'tac, Rak'nor, Dilg'a and five others whom we trust. We have taken considerable pains to spy out the rendezvous and lay plans against any ambush. I shall not be caught off-guard again."
Sam nodded; she could well believe it. Fifty hours of torture in the bowels of Heru-ur's ha'tak vessel was a lesson even the most stubborn Jaffa could learn. "Good luck," she said. "Give my best to the revolution."
"Ral tora ke, Major Carter," Teal'c replied, "and be wary. I know of Izanami only from legends, but she is said to be wily indeed."
"Thanks, Teal'c; we'll be careful."
Sam turned and went into the Shakka. A few moments later, Jack and Jonas approached with the FRED which carried their weapons and equipment.
"Teal'c," Jack called. "You pass the boxes up to me; Jonas, I'll pass them to you to put in the racks. I kind of hate the idea of flying through space at a billion miles and hour while sharing my seat with a hundred pounds of high-explosive ordnance."
"We could always put it in back with the Goa'uld," Jonas offered, helpfully.
"Just get in the spaceship," Jack said, impatiently.
Jonas climbed up and Jack turned back to face Teal'c. "So," he said.
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.
"Watch your back, Teal'c. Keep those home fires burning."
"I shall endeavour to do so, O'Neill; at least when I am at home."
"So...what else is there to say?"
"Major Carter also suggested that I take great care, and Jonas Quinn has requested that I feed his fish," Teal'c replied. "You must be most careful," he added. "Nekai Yukio has many things on her mind; she is a warrior of great skill and cunning, but her judgement in the coming days may be unsound."
"You think we can't trust Yukio? She's one of Freyja's top people."
"I believe that you can trust her, but not rely upon her. She was forced by her own death to leave her homeworld and it seems that she has come face to face with her killer; such things are not easily set aside. I have a longer past than you, O'Neill, and have perhaps more often had my judgement clouded by old pain."
Jack nodded his understanding. "We're gonna miss you on this one, big guy." He clasped Teal'c's arm for a moment, than turned and climbed into the ship. "You're sure you don't wanna give that stuffy old meeting a miss. We can cruise around in this shiny new hot rod; you know how the chicks love a shiny spaceship."
"I believe that I must place the future of my people above ‘cruising'," Teal'c replied, regretfully. He unstrapped the cases on the FRED and lifted the first as though it weighed nothing.
"We need to work on your priori...Oof!" Jack gasped as Teal'c tossed the case into his arms and he staggered under the weight of four P90s with ammunition.
"My thoughts will be with you, O'Neill," Teal'c assured him, "but my place is with Bra'tac and my son." He passed the remaining cases, one by one, then looked Jack in the eye. "Ral tora ke," he said.
"Same to you, buddy."
Sam finished the pre-flight checks and spoke into her headset. "Arcadia control this is Yomi One requesting permission for take off," she said.
Jack chuckled.
"What is it?" Jonas asked.
"Yomi One," Jack chuckled.
A familiar voice spoke across the channel. "Yomi One this is Arcadia control."
"Dad?" Sam asked.
"Hey, Sam," Jacob replied. "I just got back from the Council meeting; sorry I was too late to help you pack."
Sam grinned. "What's the news?"
"The Tok'ra don't have much to give, but they're prepared to supply another three technical advisers and the addresses of a number of well-reconnoitred mining sites to the Arcadians; too small for the Tau'ri but they'll provide what the Arcadians need for their new defences."
"That's great news, Dad," Sam said. She waited. "Ah...Dad?"
"Yeah, Sam?"
"Permission for take off? I'd love to chat but we've got a flight logged here."
"Oh, sure; sorry. Yomi One..." Jacob chuckled. "Yomi One."
"Yeah, thanks, Dad; already got that from Colonel O'Neill."
"Right you are. Yomi One you are cleared to launch on pre-assigned trajectory. Good luck and God speed, kiddo."
"Thanks, Dad and roger that, control."
"Just be careful up there, Sam," Jacob added. "Susanowa was at war with Anubis; they're going to be looking for trouble to come knocking."
"I know," Sam assured him. "We're actually counting on Izanami being a little jittery right now."
"Don't forget that jittery means watchful," Jacob reminded her.
Sam sighed. "I won't, Dad. Jeez; does fourteen years service with six of those spent on the front line mean nothing to you? We do this sort of thing all the time. Just take care of yourself while I'm away and...don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Apart from Jack Rede," Jack suggested.
Sam grimaced. "Yomi One..."
"What for?" Jack asked.
"Yomi One out," Sam declared, then shut off the channel. She sighed again. "Why do I get the feeling this could be a very long flight?" she asked, rhetorically.
*
Jahara
Gojira and Inari stood like statues as the doors of the throne room opened. After a moment, two Kitsune emerged, dragging a headless corpse with its neck wrapped in his own cloak. A third warrior followed with the head and the doors closed again.
"At least that one did not beg for mercy," Gojira noted.
"Lord Uzumi's loyalty may have been lacking, but he was a brave and honourable Daimyo," Inari agreed. "I am surprised that the Empress has allowed his wife to live, however."
"Lady Mitsue was wed against her will when Lord Uzumi conquered her father's lands. There is no love lost there and her family have never faltered in their loyalty to the Empress. Even dispossessed, they have become lords among the ronin, rallying many of the masterless to fight and die in the name of Empress Izanami. Now they shall have lands and honour again."
The two Bushi fell silent as the doors opened again and Lady Mitsue emerged, head held high and her shoto tucked in her obi. Another of the Kitsune walked at her shoulder, not as a captor but as a guard of honour.
"That one would be a worthy bride for Lord Okuni-Nushi," Gojira declared. "She has honour enough for two."
"There are too few like her," Inari agreed. In such a public place, neither spoke what they truly felt, the greatest compliment one of the Bushi could pay to a Daimyo, but one which could never be spoken aloud where others might hear it: She has the heart of a Bushi.
There was a pause and then all four of Izanami's elite guards returned. They flanked another pair of Goa'uld, the Shinpan Daimyo Lady Sakamae and her consort, Lord Yoshi. Wordless, the First Primes watched and waited for the doors to close.
"Fear in both their hearts." Gojira was disgusted by the dread he had seen in the eyes of Sakamae and Yoshi. If they were not traitors in fact then they were weak enough to fear that Izanami would think them treacherous.
"There is still honour among the Daimyo," Inari assured him.
"Perhaps," Gojira sighed. "Or perhaps Nekai Yukio has not come to pass judgement only on me."
Through the door, the two Bushi heard a desperate cry of pleading; a cry which was suddenly cut short. Inari shook her head in disgust. "I had thought better than that of the Lady Sakamae," she admitted.
"Actually, I believe that was Lord Yoshi," Gojira told his wife.
The door opened again and this time two bodies were carried out.
"Are there none who are true to their Empress?" Gojira asked, sickened.
"So far, eight of the Shinpan have proven worthy in the eyes of my mistress; twelve have not and seven of those have died. Four will be sent to work the mines of Yama and the last will be exiled to the Eastern Shore."
"Our Empress is running out of Shinpan Daimyo," Gojira noted.
"Many of them have been replaced by consorts loyal to the throne," Inari reminded him. "There are another twelve and their consorts. Some will be worthy and then there are almost one hundred of the Fudai. Perhaps some of them will rise to take the place of the disgraced Shinpan."
"Perhaps," Gojira sighed, disconsolately. "Perhaps."
"Have faith, my love. I serve my mistress because I believe in the honour of the Daimyo; that belief will not be for nothing, I swear." Inari's voice trembled as she spoke.
"You shame me, beloved Inari," Gojira said. "That one born and raised in the service of the Daimyo must be reminded of his loyalty by one of humble stock. You are the most noble Bushi I have ever known, my darling farm girl."
Inari blushed to be reminded of her roots, but also at her husband's compliments. She knew that he had no time for the empty flattery of the court; he said what he meant and nothing else. "But your own roots do not run so very deep," she reminded him, "and I owe all that I am to you, My Lord."
"You have made yourself by your honour, My Lady," he replied. "But see, another comes."
"Hideu, son of Hidaru," Inari noted. "Let us hope for better things from the son than from the father."
*
Sub-space corridor between Arcadia and Yomi
After three hours of questioning, Tomoe had still said nothing. Wearying of asking the same questions over and over, Yukio rose and made for the door.
"When the time comes, how will I die?" Tomoe asked.
"Cleanly," Yukio promised, "and with as much honour as I can grant." She raised her hand and knocked three times on the door. "I am coming out!" she called. After a moment the door opened and she stepped through.
"Mistress Nekai!" Tomoe called.
Yukio turned back. "My Lady?"
"Will you turn out the lights. I do not wish to see the walls of my prison."
"Of course," Yukio agreed. She reached back into the hold and shut off the lights, then she left and slapped the control panel to seal the bulkhead hatch.
"What was all that about?" Sam asked.
Yukio did not look at her. "All what?"
"All that ‘my lady'?" Sam said. "She's not your lady is she?"
Yukio coughed awkwardly and cast her eyes downwards. "It is her due."
"Says who?" Sam demanded. "She's a Goa'uld; a parasite."
"Well...There are Goa'uld and there are Goa'uld," Yukio offered.
Sam sighed. "I don't understand..."
"I do."
Sam looked shocked. "Colonel?"
Jack looked almost as uncomfortable as Yukio. "Some Goa'uld...Well, you wouldn't want to worship them but you can kind of see why someone would."
"Can you give us an example?" Jonas asked, curiously.
"Astarte," Jack replied.
"You only worshipped her in a euphemistic sense," Sam reminded Jack. "And she killed me with an axe!"
"Alright; what about Nefera?" Jack challenged. "Maybe you wouldn't worship her, but would you trust her?"
"Well...Yes."
"And you respect her?"
"You know I do," Sam admitted.
Yukio shrugged. "As I respect Lady Tomoe, although she is my enemy. Lord Niningi was no better than a bully; a mindless thug who revelled in the fear of others. I thought that Tomoe would be worse; I have heard legends of her cruelty and her lust for blood, but in the flesh I saw that she has honour and dignity, Sam. And she had the strength to show me compassion; few possess that courage, be they Goa'uld, Jaffa or human."
"Are you sure she's not just stringing you along?" Jack asked.
Yukio chuckled. "You wouldn't say that if you could see her tattoos. Which, incidentally, you can't."
Sam looked doubtful. "I knew a biker with a lot of tattoos once. He wasn't good people."
Yukio shrugged. "The Daimyo do not usually wear much in the way of tattoos," she explained. "The process by which a design can be permanently etched onto the skin of one made immortal by repeated use of a sarcophagus is painful in the extreme. If a Goa'uld has a tattoo then, it means something very important to them; that or it serves a purpose as a tool of intimidation, but Tomoe's are hidden from the casual eye."
"So what is it that's so important to her?" Jonas asked.
"Most of her back is covered by a tattoo of a dragon, which loops over her right shoulder."
"Yes, this biker..."
"On Yomi, the dragon has a very specific symbolism," Yukio explained. "It represents the fierce spirit of a warrior, but simple ferocity would be marked by the sign of a tiger or a lion. The dragon also connotes nobility, and most of all loneliness; an odd mark for the concubine of a great lord. Her stomach bears a tattoo of similar size."
"Again with the biker."
"Carter," Jack said, "just how much of this biker's skin did you see?"
"Some," Sam replied, evasively.
"Is that an imperial or metric some?"
Jonas moved to the seat next to Yukio. "I'm interested," he assured her. "I think they are too; they just don't want to think they might care."
Yukio nodded her understanding. "The abdominal tattoo is a ki-rin."
"A unicorn?"
"That is correct, Jonas. It is depicted rising on its hind legs and looking into the eyes of the dragon where it coils over her shoulder. The dragon is a noble and melancholy beast, but it is still wild and savage. The ki-rin is different; it is a symbol of temperance, purity, honour, rectitude and justice. That pair of tattoos symbolises a balance between inner – instinct – fury and the constraints of honour. Believe me, Colonel O'Neill, this woman may be a killer, but she practiced what she preached.
"I do not pretend to think that she is a good person, by the standards of any in this cabin, but by her own lights she has lived a righteous life, and that must be worth something. If nothing else, her loss will tip the balance of the Daimyo as a whole a little more towards mindless brutality." Yukio shook her head, sadly. "I have seen the same divide within the Bushi as I see between her and Niningi. You must have seen it too, for you fight them and yet Teal'c is your friend. Many of the Jaffa are cruel and enjoy abusing their strength by dominating the weak. But there are some who possess a true honour which goes beyond their allegiance to the Daimyo. I still fight these Jaffa because they are my enemies, but I grieve for the fact that we find ourselves opposed."
"That's a generous sentiment towards people who want to kill you," Jonas said.
Yukio laughed; she tried to sound light-hearted but her nerves showed through. "Some of them did more than try," she assured him.
Jonas looked baffled for a moment, then nodded. "Do you mind if I ask...?"
Yukio shook her head. "It was twenty years ago," she told him. "The pain has ebbed enough that I can talk about my death.
"For many decades," she began, "my clan, the Nekai, were among the most powerful of the ninja and great enemies of the Daimyo. At the height of the Nekai's power, all of the other ninja clans respected the wishes of our clan head, Old Woman Nekai, even if they did not obey her orders. Soon, she would have marshalled the resources of the clans in sufficient strength to launch an attack against Jahara and wipe the royal family from the face of Yomi; the other Daimyo would have followed. At that time, the capture of my father was valued at three-hundred thousand sheshtas; that of my mother at one-and-a-half million."
Jonas looked impressed. "You must have been an important family."
"My mother was Old Woman Nekai," Yukio replied, "but the least of the clan was worth ten thousand sheshtas."
"And you?" Sam could not help asking.
Yukio gave a melancholy smile. "The one who delivered me into the hands of Lord Susanowa would have received five-hundred thousand sheshtas. My father could never decide whether he was proud of me for that, or angry that I was worth more than he."
"And someone decided that the money was too much to resist," Jonas surmised.
Yukio nodded, slowly. "Someone did. In the course of a week, six of our safe houses were raided, dozens of ninja were killed or captured, along with more than two hundred of their kin. The Bushi slipped through our defences as though they were air, evading our traps, killing our sentries before an alarm could be raised and even trapping many of those who tried to escape by our secret ways. The information they had been given was full and accurate; we were at their mercy. We scrambled to relocate our bases, but moving so many people without allowing the Bushi to see where we went was difficult. They knew all our regular fall-backs and the other clans were wary of bringing the Bushi to their own hideouts.
"In the second week of the assault, my father was killed. My mother decided that the only course to follow was to scatter the clan. All would go into hiding in the woods and the mountains; after a month we could start to gather again; it would take time, but there would at least be something of the clan left to gather. We of the ruling family spread across the land to carry the message in person to the remaining strongholds of the clan.
"I was sent to warn those Nekai in the communities closest to Susanowa's capital, the fortress of Jahara. While I was there, the Bushi came for me; they must have known exactly where I was and where I was going, because three nights in a row they struck at the house where I slept. The third night they fired the house before the attack, instantly blocking all but one escape route. We did not know if that would be guarded, but we had no choice but to risk it. In order to buy time to evacuate the children and civilians, I challenged the leader of the Bushi, a Dragon Guard named Tokuwara Mifune, to personal combat. He killed me in a heartbeat, but he faced me with honour and he was not interested in wanton slaughter. I would have been almost as sorry to kill him as I was to die. I only wish I knew if my sacrifice was in vain; I have no idea if the tunnel that led from that house was known to them."
"And what happened to your clan?" Jonas asked.
"I do not know," Yukio admitted. "I was killed. Freyja took me as I died and I have never returned to Yomi. Freyja did not have the strength to assail Susanowa and I did not want to be an observer of my people's struggles."
"Is that why you're so worried about going back?" Sam asked.
"How can I even know that the ninja still exist?" Yukio wondered. "Perhaps Susanowa was unchallenged and we shall find no-one to aid us, nor even any Daimyo willing to rise against the Empress. But there is something more; something personal."
"Godzilla?" Jack asked.
Yukio nodded. "Tokuwara is now Gojira; First Prime of the Shogun and leader of the Dragon Guard. I faced him on Arcadia but we did not fight. My heart tells me that we will meet again, he and I. I do not relish the encounter; I have trained for twenty years but I am no match for him still."
"So don't fight him," Sam suggested. "Just blast him before he gets close."
"I may not have the choice," Yukio replied. "I can not explain, but I know that we will cross swords, Sam. I have never been so certain of anything."
The four companions sat in silence for a moment and then their attention was distracted by a beeping from the console.
"This ship is fast," Yukio noted.
"What is it?" Sam asked, leaning forward to try and get a clearer view of the displays.
"Some kind of high-energy electromagnetic field," Jonas replied. "It's interfering with the operation of the hyperdrive; if it keeps up we won't be able to sustain the sub-space corridor."
"It will keep up," Yukio told them. "We have reached the outer edge of the Firestorm. Shut down the hyperdrives, Colonel O'Neill, we must go the rest of the way on sublight engines."
"Right," Jack agreed, as the small ship began to shake. He gripped the throttle lever which controlled the hyperdrive and drew it all the way back. With a last shudder the Shakka returned to normal space. The space around them was occupied by trailing wisps of luminous vapour which almost blotted out the stars. In the distance, a white sun burned fiercely through a thick wreath of cloud.
"What is this stuff?" Jack asked.
"Hydrogen plasma," Sam replied, "the regular free gases of space, ionised by the intense electrical field around Yomi's sun. All that ‘cloud' around the sun is the Firestorm; an electromagnetic disturbance that has been raging for millions of years."
"The currents of the firestorm are treacherous," Yukio warned. "Even in a small vessel like this, only an experienced pilot should risk them. Colonel O'Neill, would you mind?"
"Sure," Jack agreed, surrendering the controls. "You have flown through this before, right?"
Yukio settled herself in the pilot's seat, adjusted it for her height and build, then checked the read-outs before replying: "I am one of the few ninja who ever did. About a year before I died, I led a team of my comrades on a mission to destroy one of Susanowa's ha'tak vessels. We infiltrated the vessel on the ground, rigged its hyperdrives to blow when they were engaged at the edge of the system and escaped in a teltac. I practiced in small, low-orbital craft for weeks to learn how to feel my way through the currents of the tempest and piloting back from the orbit of the inner moon was still the most arduous journey I have ever undertaken. Trust me, I have not forgotten."
"You're slowing down," Sam noted.
"If I try and fly through the Firestorm at full speed we'll be killed for sure. Even if the currents don't fry the main drive, strip our shields and bake us alive, we'll leave a radiation wake a hundred miles long; even through the storm's interference the listening posts on the outer moon would see us coming before we had passed the third planet."
Yukio touched a control and a chart appeared on the screen, showing the star Mikoto and the orbits of her seven planets. "As you can see, the heart of the Firestorm rages around the sun and encompasses the orbit of the first planet," she explained. "These less intense bands of radiation spread past the orbit of the outermost planet, Oroi, but they are not constant. Spikes of electromagnetic energy periodically shoot out from the firestorm, creating the cross-currents in the ion storm as well as irradiating anything in their path. One of those spikes would destroy this ship – or at least kill all of us – in a heartbeat.
"Yomi is the second planet in the system and the only world with a dense enough atmosphere and strong enough magnetic field to withstand the radiation blasts. Mikoto III, Yama, is in an orbit where it should be inhabitable, but although there are subterranean prison mines. The Firestorm turns Yama's surface into a radioactive, volcanic wasteland. The magnetosphere of Yomi, however, can deflect directed plasma blasts and shred missiles in high orbit as well as warding off the energies of the firestorm. It is impossible to bombard the world from space; save perhaps with some form of heavy mass driver, and no ship large enough to carry one would be able to approach through the storm."
"What about Susanowa's ha'taks?" Sam asked.
"Well, the first time they arrived in this system the hyperdrives exploded," Yukio replied, "almost wiping out Izanagi's entire faction. Eventually they mapped certain safer paths and a skilled pilot can bring even a ha'tak vessel safely through the ion storms with the current. Even if an enemy were able to use one of the safe approaches however, both of Yomi's moons house heavily shielded outposts on their dark sides; long-range sensor arrays for detecting incoming vessels and enough firepower to give any attacker pause for thought, especially with their shields already under attack from the radiation waves."
Yukio manipulated the controls again and the display shifted to show a schematic of one of the outposts. Long corridors linked a massive central hub with eight smaller domes.
Sam gave a low whistle. "Is that central hub all generator?" she asked.
Yukio shook her head. "One third of each dome is taken up by a generator. Main power comes from the hub but each of the outer pods has its own secondary reactor. The main dome also houses the shield generators and long-range sensors; targeting sensors and weapons are in the pods."
The image switched again to show the internal layout of one of the pods, including the main gun.
"Holy heck!" Jonas exclaimed.
"It's a big gun?" Jack asked.
"It would certainly make a mess of us pretty damn quick," Sam said. "One hit would splash the Shakka across the solar system."
"All eight weapons together can make short work of a ha'tak," Yukio added. "You'd need a pretty impressive fleet to get through that unscathed. There's a battery of subsidiary weapons for dealing with smaller ships, but those are intended to protect the outpost, not the planet. If we go slow and easy and fly clear of the lunar orbits we'll be out of their range."
"Unless they've upgraded in the last twenty years," Jack noted.
Jonas grinned, nervously. "Ever the optimist, Colonel."
"I wouldn't worry too much," Yukio said. "Just flying the relief watch and spare parts up to the moon every six months is an adventure, without worrying about redesign work." Her fingers danced across the navigation console with the instinctive skill of a career pilot. "At safe speed and avoiding the sensors, it will take us approximately a day to reach the planet, so make yourselves comfortable." The ship juddered, violently. "Well; as comfortable as you can."
The screen reverted to an ordinary view of the space outside the cockpit window. For some time they sat, discussing plans or just bantering, until Jonas suddenly pointed to something in the distance.
"What is that?" he asked.
"It looks like a comet," Sam replied.
"Oh no," Yukio groaned.
Jack frowned at the solemnity of her tone. "What's up?" he asked.
"It's a radiation wake," Yukio said. "What we're seeing is a trail of ionized gas excited by the passage of an energy field; specifically a ship's shields. That particular wake must be almost a thousand miles long; Izanami is already calling her ha'tak vessels home. She's getting ready to go to war."
*
Jahara
Okuni-Nushi slammed the doors of the throne room open without ceremony and stormed in. The Queen-Empress had activated the holographic display concealed in the great seal at the heart of the chamber and the image of Arcadia hung in the air, the strong points identified by the disastrous assault picked out as flashing red triangles. Those of the Shinpan Daimyo whom Izanami had deemed most trustworthy stood around the image.
"Grandmother!" Okuni yelled.
One of the Daimyo, new to imperial favour and apparently unaware of the workings of the court, stepped forward. "You will not address the Empress..." he began, angrily, but Okuni knocked him down with a single punch.
"Grandmother, what are you doing?" he demanded.
"Leave us," the Empress purred and although her eyes never left her grandson, the assembled Daimyo knew at once that she was speaking to them. They filed out and the great doors closed behind them. A wave of the Empress' hand dismissed her guards, leaving her alone with Okuni.
"Lord Okuni-Nushi, you forget yourself," Izanami warned.
"The detection stations have reported that our ha'tak vessels are converging on Yomi," Okuni continued, unperturbed. "Why have they abandoned their positions and forsaken our alliance with Lord Yu?"
The face of the Queen-Empress grew dark. "In order to avenge the deaths of your father and brother," she replied. "All other considerations are secondary. I will launch an assault on the planet Arcadia with every ha'tak in our fleet."
"Including the standing patrol?" Okuni demanded.
"All of them."
Okuni fumed. "We will be laid open to assault! If Anubis should attack Yomi..."
"The defences of Yomi will stand," Izanami declared. "It is our duty to punish those who slew our kin, Okuni; you know this!"
"This is folly!" Okuni snapped. "Our kin died in battle, My Empress; an honourable death. There is no shame to avenge."
Izanami rose to her feet in fury. "No shame! These primitives could never have defeated my son in battle, Lord Okuni. They must have slain him by treacherous deception and that must be punished!"
"My brother was a rash fool and my father was too arrogant to know fear when he should!" Okuni retorted. "Despite the loss of the ha'tak vessel last year, they underestimated the people of Arcadia and they paid the price for it."
"Then I will not make the same mistake," Izanami hissed, her eyes incandescent with rage. "My warships shall burn Arcadia to the bedrock."
"This is madness!" Okuni insisted. "Let me return the ships to their posts. I have a scout ship fuelled and ready, crewed with my finest agents. In less than a month I will know all of Arcadia's weaknesses. In one month I can conquer this world with but a single ha'tak vessel and the killers of our kin will pay if you demand it, My Empress."
"Blood calls for blood, my dear," Izanami reminded him. "Vengeance is not patient."
Okuni strode forward, through the holographic display, and knelt in front of Izanami. He took her hand in both of his and pressed his forehead to her knuckles in reverence. "Grandmother, do not do this. When my father committed us to war against Anubis he set us on a narrow road. By sacrificing so many warriors in this foolish assault he has placed us in a very doubtful position. The Daimyo will test us, grandmother; Anubis will seek to crush us. If we abandon him, we also make an enemy of Lord Yu; he is a man alone, but if Anubis and the combined might of the System Lords can not destroy the old man, he is not one I wish to add to our long list of foes."
"Your words are cowardice," Izanami said, but without the conviction of moments before.
"My words are of concern, grandmother. It is at you that these enemies will strike. I see how your heart has been wounded by your loss; I would not see those wounds made physical."
Izanami laid a hand on Okuni's head in benediction. "My darling boy," she whispered. "Perhaps there is wisdom in your words."
For a moment, Okuni felt his heart lift, before Izanami continued:
"It is of no import. These barbarians must pay for their crimes, Lord Okuni. We can not allow this deed to go unpunished and nor can we allow the Daimyo to believe that Lord Susanowa failed so completely. That would surely doom us both."
"Give me a month," Okuni begged. "I will deliver you your vengeance." He gestured to the holographic globe behind him. "There is a force in this accursed world that will destroy us all if we let it. The dust of Arcadia has already consumed the life's-blood of three of our family and seven of our most loyal Shinpan Daimyo."
Izanami's eyes turned hard as stone and in that moment, Okuni knew that he had lost his last chance to persuade her. "Niningi's whore was no kin of mine," she whispered. "If you do not start acting like my grandson, I may come to feel the same way about you, Lord Okuni-Nushi-no-Mikoto."
Okuni released the Empress's hand and rose to his feet. "I am your grandson," he assured her. "I am Lord Susanowa's son and Lord Niningi's brother, but I am also – with your blessing – the heir of Lord Susanowa and thus the Shogun of Yomi. I have a duty to protect this world and its Empress that supersedes my duties as a man. You wish me to act as your grandson; I say to you that you must act like an Empress, My Lady and an Empress does not have the luxury to pursue personal vendettas."
"How dare you...!"
"I dare because it is my duty as your Shogun and as your grandson to warn you against this course."
"You would oppose me?"
"Never, My Empress," he admitted, casting his eyes downwards. "I shall do as you command, always and in all things."
"Then get out of my sight," Izanami spat. "You are heir only with my blessing. Prepare yourself for war, Lord Okuni, or I shall find a Shogun more willing to do the bidding of his Empress."
"You have no servant more faithful," Okuni sighed. He bowed low before her. "May your radiance light the heavens for all eternity, My Empress," he added, then backed from the throne room.
As the doors closed, Izanami slammed her fist into the marble arm of her throne with such force that it cracked beneath her hand. On the far side of the mighty portal, Lord Okuni thrust violently through the throng of Daimyo and strode away.
*
Yomi
As Yomi loomed up in front of the Shakka, the vessel's crew stared in amazement. The atmosphere was almost opaque, an opalescent sphere of cloud which flashed and crackled with energy as the radiation of the firestorm met the powerful magnetic field.
Jack glanced down at his wrist. "My watch has stopped," he said.
"Must be the electromagnetic effect of the firestorm," Sam suggested. "Mine's gone too."
Yomi frowned. "I'd better divert more power to the shields."
"Do we have enough power to cope with this kind of interference?" Jonas asked, concerned.
"More than enough," Sam assured him. "The engines are barely ticking over and Fora'l and Ker'nau have provided sufficient output to run a pretty impressive weapons loadout when the Shakka is completed."
"My watch is still stopped," Jack noted.
"It will probably stay stopped," Yukio told him. "Look on the bright side though; the ship is still in one piece. Fortunately, Goa'uld crystal technology is rather more resistant to electromagnetic radiation than terrestrial electronics."
"There's one of those moons," Jonas noted.
"We're well outside the its sensor pattern," Yukio assured him. "So long as I don't take the ship clean through an ion current, the cloak will mask us from anything on the ground. It will be a bit choppy though; better strap yourselves in."
"Seatbelts: Another fine Earth export," Jack said, proudly, pulling the straps over his shoulders.
"I hope Tomoe is secure," Jonas said.
"She's well strapped in," Yukio assured him. "Hold on."
The Shakka dropped into the atmosphere of Yomi. Brilliant lights flashed in front of the screen as the shield lit up where it touched the electromagnetic currents and a massive shiver ran through entire hull. Jack looked around himself in horror as the air was filled with a squeal of tortured metal.
"I'm putting all available power to the shields," Yukio said. The ship bucked wildly. "They'll hold. It's just a little longer and then..."
With one final, almighty shudder, the Shakka dropped out of the cloud layer into a grim, grey sky. Below lay the world of Yomi, spread out like a map and bathed in the cloud-filtered, achromatic illumination of its white sun.
"What a dump," Jack muttered.
"It has its consolations," Yukio assured him, switching the screen to a rear view. Storm clouds swirled in a brilliant halo around the sun and spread in leaden sheets across the rest of the sky. Lightning lit the clouds from within and the brilliant, flickering colours of an aurora danced across the grim sky to the East. "The clouds protect us from the searing light of the sun. The ion storms create the auroras when they strike the magnetosphere; occasionally, radiation leaks through, but the clouds absorb it and emit a brilliant light. We used to call it the Skyfire."
The screen changed back to show the forward view. The ship was plunging towards a vast, open space, an almost perfect oval of grassland studded with tiny, dark clusters which Jack recognised as settlements.
"Behold, the Plain of Jahara," Yukio announced. "Good land – fertile, good drainage, plenty of game. You can see the fortresses of Susanowa's governors scattered across the plain. The governors are the heads of the ji-samurai in direct service to Susanowa; he does not allow any other Daimyo to hold a fortress on the plain. There on the eastern edge of the grasslands is the great Fortress of Jahara; the citadel which Izanagi built and from which his Empress now rules."
Jack raised an eyebrow; even from this altitude the scale of the fortress was impressive. "If I didn't know that the Goa'uld choose their own bodies I'd think he was compensating for something."
"The size was a matter of necessity," Yukio assured him with a grin. "The Fortress was built to protect all of Izanagi's people while they set about taming the land."
"So what else are we looking at?" Jonas asked.
Yukio pulled the ship around in a slow circle so that they were given a panoramic view of the plain and its surroundings. "To the East, behind the fortress, you'll see the coast; that ocean is home to sea serpents and other monsters." The humans could well believe that. The sea was as grey as slate, broken by towering waves which showed as long strands of white foam from their elevated vantage.
As the ship turned, they saw a distant range of purple, snow-capped mountains, separated from the plain by a vast and mighty forest. The trees grew thick and tall, but glades and clearings left visible gaps in the canopy and the grey silhouettes of vast buildings showed through in places. A vast river snaked from the eaves of the forest and wound its lazy way down towards the sea, slow, bloated and grey with mud. A smaller serpent of silver raced in more direct line from the mountains to join its brother to the east of the Fortress, the two rivers forming a defensive cradle around the stronghold. "The Northern Forest and the Mountains of the Sun are relatively welcoming," Yukio went on. "Many of the ji-samurai – the ancestral Bushi families – live there or in the wetlands beyond the forest in the north-west. The wetlands are the source of the great river Tsuri; a thousand springs and streams feed it before it becomes that torrent you see there. The water is quite safe, despite the silt, but most people who have the option prefer the sweet waters of the little river Nazami, which rises from three springs in the Mountains of the Sun. It used to carry trinium ore down as far as the edge of the plain, before the mining operations used up any trinium that was so easily available."
To the west, the forest gave way to rolling, green hills, clustered with settlements. "The Greenlands," Yukio sighed. "Fertile and peaceful, home to the greatest number of the Daimyo's human slaves. Home also of the Nekai." She gazed wistfully at the gentle slopes until they in turn vanished from view, to be replaced by a second range of mountains. Unlike the Mountains of the Sun, these rose steep and jagged. Their sides were rugged and black and their razor-sharp summits were wreathed in dark clouds. No gentle snow smoothed those dizzy heights. Where the foothills of these grim peaks stooped towards the plain lay a bleak expanse of grey stone.
"Nice," Jack quipped.
"Well, they don't call it the Southern Wilderness for nothing," Yukio assured him. "Those are the Stonelands. You can't really grow anything there, so the people live by hunting and gathering and by keeping goats. The mountain dwellers are a hardy breed."
"Why live there at all?" Sam asked.
"Because there they are beyond the influence of the Daimyo. Some of the Goa'uld may come to the Stonelands to hunt the giant wolves and some even go beyond to the Mountains of Storms, where the eagles and dragons make even more prestigious prey, but none of them live there."
"Dragons?" Sam asked, disbelieving.
"Very large reptiles," Yukio explained. "Incredible creatures. They use naquadah to generate a massive amount of energy to heat their bodies. They can expel that heat through a duct above their nose as a blast of plasma; very impressive. Of course, Izanagi needed the naquadah in the mountains and the dragons were competing for that resource, so he hunted them almost to extinction. The really big ones can shrug off a blast from a glider cannon though, so a few of the elders survive. I've only ever seen one," she said, wistfully. "It was at a distance, but there was something so sad about it; a kind of tragic and solemn dignity."
"So where are we landing?" Jack asked, warily. "With the dragons or the wolves?"
"Neither," Yukio assured him. "We are landing in the forest to the south of the Plain." The Shakka completed her circuit and another vast woodland appeared. In the distance a third mountain range stood, low and dark.
"It looks like it's dotted with settlements," Sam noted. "Must be popular."
"The trees grow tall and strong and their wood is precious to the Daimyo," Yukio replied. "There is good hunting in the forest and the clearings make good fields; further south are the great naquadah mines in the Mountains of Shadow. Many Daimyo and their servants dwell in the southern forest."
"And no giant wolves?" Jack asked.
"No."
"No dragons?" Jonas asked.
"No."
Jack looked sceptical. "Then why do you sound scared."
"There are no wolves there," she explained, "because they were driven out."
"By what?"
"By the foxes, Colonel. We call the southern woodlands the Forest of Foxes, for it is home to the kitsune-tsuki; the ghost foxes."
Jack laughed. "Foxes?" he scoffed. "What do they do? Get into the garbage."
"Hopefully you will not have the opportunity to find out why they are more feared than any wolf," Yukio replied, in the tight voice of one whose very real fears have been mocked. Jack suddenly felt a lot more serious. "It is not for nothing that the Empress names her personal guard after the foxes. If we do encounter them, you must remember: Do not look into their eyes."
"Why not?"
"To look into the eyes of the kitsune-tsuki is death."
*
Yukio landed the Shakka in a small clearing in the Southern Forest, close to the Plain of Jahara. The Fortress was less than a hundred miles to the northeast, but Yukio was confident that their landing would not be detected.
"They would not expect anyone to land here," she assured them as they stepped down into the cool, grey light of the clearing, "therefore they would not be watching."
The trees rose tall around them, but the greenery seemed faded. Sam looked around and realised that their own fatigues had a similar, washed-out appearance. The quality of the light itself seemed to drain the colour from the world.
Jack looked troubled. "And why, pray, would they not expect anyone to land here?" he asked.
"Because attempting to hide out in the Forest of Foxes would be suicide," Yukio replied with a shrug.
"Does this not present us with a problem?" Jonas asked.
"Such as?" Yukio asked.
Jonas looked puzzled. "Well; such as the fact that attempting to hide out in the Forest of Foxes is suicide?"
"No," Yukio assured him. "That will not be a problem to us."
"Because we won't be hiding in the forest," Sam realised. "We'll be in one of the settlements, only the Bushi don't know that there is anywhere in the settlements for us to hide."
Yukio nodded her agreement. "Hopefully, at least one of the ninja safehouses I know of will still be in use. If not...Well, then we could be in trouble."
"Why?" Jack asked.
"Because we'll be left to try and hide out in the Forest of Foxes."
"We've got the ship," Jack reminded her. "We can hide out there if we need to revise the plan."
"This is true; however, I do not look forward to trying to find our way back to the ship in the dark. We will not reach the nearest village until nightfall. I would suggest that we wait until daybreak to set out, but we have no time to waste. With her ha'taks gathering, Izanami must plan to launch her attack very soon. Probably as soon as her period of mourning is over."
"Which is when?" Jack asked.
"Seven days after the death of her son."
"And it's been three already," Sam pointed out.
"Alright; let's move," Jack said. "Jonas; stay with the ship. I don't want us to get stranded."
Jonas grinned. "You know I can't fly one of these things, right?"
"You've seen it done; haven't you picked it up yet?"
"Well I know what does what," Jonas admitted.
"Good enough for government work," Jack assured him. "Anyway, we're going for stealth and your intar doesn't take a silencer."
"I could bring one of the spare P90s," Jonas suggested.
Jack laughed, cheerfully, then said with sudden firmness: "No. Yukio; are you ready?"
Yukio nodded. "There's no point in getting our disguises on yet; the ninjas would only kill us on sight. If we see any Bushi we'll just have to try not to be seen in return."
"And watch out for foxes," Jack added.
"And watch out for foxes," Yukio agreed.
Jack shrugged. "Whatever. Ready?" he asked Sam.
Sam checked her silencer and looked through the plastic of her magazine at the white tips of the subsonic ammunition. "All set," she confirmed.
"This is your home turf, Yukio," Jack said. "You wanna take point."
Yukio nodded, not quite managing to hide her nervousness. "Stay close though; the kitsune-tsuki prefer to take isolated prey."
Jack let Sam move ahead of him and followed a good thirty yards behind. He was mindful of Yukio's warnings – even if he did think she might be letting old superstitions get the better of her – but they were more likely to be spotted by Bushi patrols if they clumped up.
Not for the first time since they had left Arcadia, Jack found himself wondering what on Earth he was doing here. All of the arguments for SG-1's presence still made sense, except for the ones which said that anyone would be here in the first place. He was far from convinced that the threat to Arcadia was as imminent as the young ninja made out and in fact the uncharitable thought that perhaps Yukio was manipulating the situation to get someone else involved in her world's affairs had crossed his mind more than once. Still, she was one of Freyja's most trusted pilots and that spoke well of her integrity.
Such considerations were pushed to the back of Jack's mind by a rustle in the undergrowth, followed by a sound that was so out of place as to be almost ridiculous; a woman's laugh, low, throaty and seductive. Not being entirely without sense, Jack raised his P90 to his shoulder. All of his experience told him that sexy voices in the middle of a fox-infested forest could not possibly be a good sign.
In the bushes by the trail, something moved. Jack took a step forward and saw, peering out at him, a pair of golden eyes.
The next moment, Jack found himself lying on the ground, his back and chest feeling bruised and tender. His vest had been torn, although he did not think he himself had suffered serious injury. He sat up, disoriented, and saw a silver-furred animal the size of a leopard lying on the ground beside him.
"Sir! Are you alright?"
Jack looked up at Sam. "What? What just happened?"
"I told you!" Yukio snapped, angrily. She strode forward to examine the animal, momentarily oblivious to the stares of her companions. "Don't look into their eyes, I said. Stay close, I said. If I hadn't noticed that you weren't following...What?" she asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You...um..." Sam tried and failed.
"You seem to be on fire," Jack offered, weakly.
Yukio raised her hand, limned in a sparkling white light which drifted upwards in lazy tendrils, like slow motion flames. "Damn," she muttered. "Must be the charged particles in the atmosphere reacting to the energy field which my nanites generate. I've seen the same thing happen around the Daimyo when they use their hand devices; I should have realised." She touched a panel on her gauntlet and the light slowly faded. "There; I've put the gauntlet into passive mode so it isn't drawing energy from the nanites. I'd hate for my own people to mistake me for a Goa'uld. Sam; may I borrow your sidearm, please?"
"Sure," Sam agreed.
Now that his attention was no longer gripped by Yukio's unexpected phosphorescence, Jack turned his attention to his late assailant. The animal did indeed look like a fox; it had long legs, black-tips to its ears and tail and a long, tapered muzzle. Its sightless, golden eyes were larger than Jack's own and the yellowed canines must have been almost two inches long. It looked more powerful than any terrestrial fox, however and not just because of its size; there was a compact musculature beneath the fur which had more in common with lupine physiognomy than with vulpine. Deadly it might have been, but it was also an incredibly beautiful creature and as the sun set its coat was slowly changing from silver to black in the most uncanny fashion.
"It's a property of the fur," Yukio explained. "Whatever colour they are, kitsune-tsuki vanish in the shadows."
"No bullet holes," Jack noted. "You killed it?"
Yukio nodded. "Damn shame."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Still; rather it than me."
Yukio laughed. "I meant that we can't spare the time to get her back to the ship. She's only a small one, but an unmarked skin...Listen to me; I'm back here for half-an-hour and I'm thinking like a poacher."
"What did it do to me?" Jack asked. "I kind of blacked out there."
"Paralysing stare. The muscles in the reflective membranes of a kitsune-tsuki's eyes spasm at a frequency which induces epileptic seizures in the human brain," Yukio explained.
"You couldn't have said that earlier, rather than reel off the ‘to look into their eyes is death' bit?"
"They're also excellent mimics," Yukio continued, ignoring the criticism. "They can imitate the sound of a crying child or an animal in pain..."
"I heard a woman's laugh," Jack said.
"This one probably hunted near the local lover's lane," Yukio suggested.
A sharp barking sound split through the twilight air.
"What was that?" Sam asked.
"That's a kitsune-tsuki's call," Yukio replied. "Or at least...That's what it sounded like."
"What do you...?"
Jack and Yukio reacted at once, turning back to back and levelling their weapons at the forest around them. Sam followed her CO's lead just a heartbeat behind, but had barely released the safety on her weapon before a warning shot smacked into the turf by her feet. She wondered distractedly what the shot had been fired from; from the sound it must be some kind of powerful hand catapult.
"You are surrounded and outnumbered!" a voice called. "Lay down your weapons and tell me who you are."
*
Yukio shook her head, ruefully. "I'm really losing my edge," she said. "Over-reliance on the gauntlet's sensors; I'm as bad as blind without them."
"I make four," Jack whispered. "Reckon we can take them?"
"I doubt it. I count nine," Yukio replied. "Besides; these are the people we came to see." Moving slowly, she put the Beretta back on its safety catch and laid it on the grass at her feet, then removed her scabbarded sword from her side.
Reluctantly, her two companions likewise disarmed. Jack detected a rumble of anger at the sight of their zat'nik'tels. He also noticed that Yukio had made no move to remove her Asgard combat gauntlet, but their captors clearly did not recognise that as a weapon because they came forward, apparently satisfied that the prisoners were harmless.
There were indeed nine of them, dressed in peasant garb but armed with short swords of the same shape as Yukio's as well as some kind of slingshot; a gut-twine held between two arms at the forward end of a crossbow-style stock, stretched back to a hook at the rear of the stock. A pouch on the string held a small shot; simple, but quite deadly in the right hands. Six of the ninjas covered their captives with these slingshots, while three more came forward to collect the prisoners' weapons.
The leader of the ninjas was lean and handsome and moved with grace and confidence, but Jack would not have thought him any older than eighteen. He was marked out from his followers by his long topknot – the others wore their hair fetched back in ponytails; his jacket was also in a slightly different style but they wore no insignia.
"Who are you?" the young man asked. He addressed Jack, but his eyes strayed constantly to Yukio and to her long, plaited hair.
"Colonel Jack O'Neill. And you are?"
"Ashikaga," Yukio said. "You are an Ashikaga are you not?"
"How did you know?" the boy asked.
"You have the Ashikaga topknot," Yukio pointed out.
The young man blushed and tugged awkwardly at his hair. "Then your plait...You are one of the Nekai? But I do not know you. I had thought that I knew most of my mother's clan, but I am sure that I would remember if I had seen you before."
The back of Yukio's neck flushed red.
"New world, same lines," Sam murmured.
Jack coughed, politely. "Yukio," he prompted. "Maybe we should get a bit of a move on, here? Time is a factor."
"Yes," Yukio replied. She looked at their young captor and saw that he and his comrades were staring at her. "What?" she asked. She turned to face Jack and Sam. "Am I glowing again?" she asked, concerned.
"Nekai Yukio?" the boy asked.
"Yes."
"I think...Would you come with us, please."
"Alright." Yukio shrugged at her companions as the boy led the way towards a distant cluster of lights. Two of the ninjas stooped to pick up the slain fox.
"What's going on?" Jack asked. "They looked like they were just about to tie us up and then suddenly it's all ‘please' and thank you."
"I don't know," Yukio admitted. "I don't know what's happening here. This should be an Ushiba safehouse and most of our...escort are Ushiba."
"Can you tell by the ponytails?" Jack asked.
"The jackets. All of the ninja clans have something distinctive which marks them out when they are dressed for combat, although not always the hair. In the event that we are spotted, we like our enemies to know who they fight."
"But the leader is of a different clan," Sam realised. "Is that normal?"
Yukio shrugged. "I do not know. Not before my mother began to forge the great alliance of the clans, certainly. If it is still common practice, perhaps the alliance still stands? Certainly, an Ashikaga is out of place here; the clan hails from the Northern Forest."
The young Ashikaga led them towards the lights, until they resolved into the outskirts of a small village. "Welcome to Aichiba," the Ashikaga boy said.
The small knot of ninja took their prisoners swiftly through the narrow streets, crowding them any time they paused to try and look around. The sun had set now and the streets were dark, but there was still activity. There were people packing up stalls and shops, but they ignored the ninjas completely. Most of the houses were small and built from rickety wooden panelling, but a handful were larger with plastered walls and elaborate porticos. At the centre of the house stood the largest house in Aichiba, a pagoda-roofed, plaster-walled dwelling of obvious quality. Their captor knocked on the door of this house and after a whispered conference they were admitted to the Spartan entrance hall.
"Wait here," the boy ordered. "I must speak with the elders of this house."
The visitors stood in the hallway, under the watchful eyes of the Ushiba ninjas, and waited.
"Any tips on etiquette?" Sam asked.
"If they ask about Tomoe, tell them she is dead," Yukio whispered. "I should have said before; if we let them know..." She broke off as the young man returned.
"Please; follow me," he said.
He led them from the hall into a large, open-plan dining room. Long tables were stacked at the edges of the room and more than thirty ninjas sat on benches, facing the newcomers, arranged in a V with the point away from the door. The bulk of the ninjas wore the Ushiba jackets, but here and there Jack spotted an Ashikaga topknot. Most were young, but at the vertex of the V sat an older couple, faces lined with care and eyes hard with suspicion.
The man was tall and handsome. He wore his hair in a topknot and there was enough of a similarity to make it clear that he and their young captor were close kin. It was equally apparent that he knew Yukio, for his eyes lit up with wonder at the sight of her. The woman was tall and rangy, and had a long plait, very much like Yukio's. There was some likeness to Yukio about her features which did hint at a blood relationship, but the livid fury in the woman's dark eyes could never have been directed at a stranger. Her hand lay lightly on the arm of her companion, but at sight of Yukio it tightened until the bones of her knuckles showed white through her tanned skin.
"My kin," the young man announced. "I present Nekai Yukio and her companions."
A rustle of concerned voices ran around the room and Sam heard more than one of the ninjas mutter: "Gaki."
"It can not be," the older man murmured.
"This is some trick," his partner declared. "Or perhaps some treachery."
"It's not either," Jack told them. "We're here to..."
"Be silent!" the woman snapped. "I would hear the dead one speak."
Yukio, her face as white as a sheet, stepped forward. "There is no deception, Nekai Maru," she said. "And it is I, Ashikaga Kirano."
In the suspicious silence which followed, Jack coughed, pointedly. "Hi," he said. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill; this is Major Samantha Carter."
The ninjas ignored him completely.
"Look at her," Maru spat. "Her skin; her hair. She has not aged a day in twenty years, husband. Only the Daimyo could have granted her such long life."
Kirano snapped a harsh expletive. "You speak foolishness, Maru!" he insisted. "Yukio's sacrifice saved dozens of lives during the great betrayal."
"At the cost of her own; yes, so we believed," Maru scoffed. "Yet she lives and she remains unnaturally young. How else can we explain this?"
"Perhaps she was killed," the boy suggested, with a trace of religious ecstasy in his voice.
"Kanjiro!" Maru snapped.
Kanjiro stared at Yukio in wonder. "Before my very eyes she killed a kitsune-tsuki with a bolt of light which she cast from her hand," he breathed. "Her body burned with silver light."
"You see!" Maru declared. "That is a power of the Daimyo. Nekai Yukio has sold her people for the promise of immortality!"
"No!" Yukio protested.
"No, mother," Kanjiro agreed. "It was not like that; I have seen the Daimyo..."
"A different weapon then," Maru said. "It makes no difference."
Kanjiro's eyes sparkled with his fervour. "Surely she is a holy spirit; a kami!"
Yukio's eyes widened in horror. "No!"
Kirano closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. "Please, both of you; we must be calm."
"Still you defend her!"
Yukio looked as though she were about to cry. Jack stepped forward, laid a hand on her arm and cleared his throat. "Susanowa is dead!" he shouted at the top of his voice.
The room fell silent.
"Well," Sam admitted, "that got their attention."
*
"This is a good start," Sam noted.
"We're locked in a small room in a ninja safehouse, miles from anywhere," Jack replied. "How is that good?"
"Well, no-one's tried to beat us up or threaten us yet. I guess they're saving that for Yukio. Would I be right that there's some bad blood between you and Maru?"
"You could say that," Yukio agreed. She had been sitting in melancholy introspection ever since the Ushiba had ushered them into this back room. "She's my sister."
"Ouch," Jack said, sympathetically. "Family trouble then?"
"She is not my sister by blood," Yukio hastened to add. "Only by adoption. She was born into the Kobayashi clan, but the Kobayashi were wiped out by the Dragon Guard when Maru was a child. My mother owed a debt of honour to Old Man Kobayashi and took in his orphaned daughter. Maru went from the first daughter of a clan chief to a slightly burdensome fosterling. Her older step-sister was pretty appalling too."
"And who was...oh," Sam realised.
"Having a step-sib can be like that," Jack agreed. "I take it you never patched things up?"
"I seduced the man she was in love with, mostly to prove to her that I could; that is something that isn't easy to patch. She was always the one who really cared about Kirano; I doubt it will help our case that he still seems to be too blind to see that."
"The fact that her son seems to think you're the messiah can't be doing us any favours either," Jack suggested. "So I take it you were always the favourite..."
"With no real reason," Yukio insisted. "She must have been just about able to struggle out of my shadow while I was away; she seems to have finally got Kirano to notice her."
"And then you show up and it's business as usual," Sam surmised. "No wonder she's pissed."
"Do you think it would be worth telling her you never wanted this?" Jack asked.
Yukio chuckled. "That's the problem you see," she said. "I did want it and I made no secret of it. I hated having to share the spotlight and I made damn sure I hogged it as much as possible. I headed for an Ushiba safehouse in part because I was worried about meeting her even if I did manage to find a Nekai house that hadn't been burned down by the Dragons."
There was a long silence, which Jack broke at last. "Families," he said, simply.
Yukio chuckled. "Yeah."
"Next move?" Jack asked.
"We wait. They'll either decide to kill us, or throw us out on our ears, or take us to see the Ushiba elders. In the first instance I'll draw their attention while you get back to the ship; I'm still armed," she reminded Jack, before he could protest. "In the third we do all we can to persuade them to help."
"Are we still lying about Tomoe?"
"More than ever, but only if they ask. If they learn that she is alive an in our grasp, they will want her handed over for torture and execution."
Jack looked bemused. "And the problem with that is...?"
"I won't give her up to be tortured," Yukio insisted. "She spared me and I have promised her a clean and honourable death. My people have been fighting a losing battle for generations; they are not gentle when they capture their enemies. The fact that we can never make the Daimyo talk has never been seen as a reason not to torture those who fall into out power. I have learned a kinder way from Freyja over the last two decades. Although I am ashamed to condemn my own people, I can no longer condone the causing of pain in the name of vengeance; not even if the victim is a Goa'uld."
"I just hope they get a move on," Jack sighed, changing the subject. "Arcadia can't have much time left."
As if in answer to his concerns the door to the room opened and Nekai Maru entered. Her son followed at a distance and remained in the doorway, watching with worried eyes.
"Sister," Yukio greeted her.
"Do not call me that," Maru hissed. "Tomorrow we will take you to Nodori."
"Nodori?" Yukio asked, startled. "Not to Shinaru?"
Maru gave a superior smile. "How little you know of us now, Yukio. The Ushiba still have their headquarters in Shinaru, but Old Man Ushiba will be meeting with the rest of the Council of Elders in Nodori."
"The Council?" Yukio asked. "Then the Council was formed? The other elders agreed to my mother's..." She winced as a look of fury came over Maru's face.
"Our mother!" Maru shouted. "My mother! When you were thought lost, I was her only comfort and still she thought always of you. If I did not miss her so, I would thank the kami that she died before you could return to break her heart."
Tears welled in Yukio's eyes and she sat down, heavily. "How...?" she croaked.
Maru's expression softened, but only a little. "Age," she replied. "She was an old woman in truth at last, and the winter was hard three years ago."
"Three years!" Yukio cried. "I should have come sooner," she whispered.
"If it was in your power then you should have come twenty years ago, Yukio. I do not know where you have been that you have not aged, but I wish that you had stayed there. Whatever the cause of your unnatural youth, be it the Daimyo or the kami, this return can only cause pain."
"But if mother..." Yukio slid from the seat and went down on her knees, bowing low before her adopted sister. "Forgive me," she began, but Maru stepped forward, dragged her adoptive sister up and flung her back onto the seat.
Jack and Sam half-rose to protect Yukio, but Maru turned and strode out, leaving her son hovering in the doorway.
"What was that about?" Jack wondered.
"My mother is not the Old Woman," Kanjiro replied. "When Nekai Fujiko died she passed control of the clan to her cousin, Nekai Danjuro."
Yukio was appalled. "But Maru was her daughter. She was the rightful heir unless doubt was cast on her ability; Danjuro was not her equal in any way; how could he have challenged her and won?"
"There was no challenge," Kanjiro said. "On her deathbed, Grandmother Fujiko asked my mother to set aside her claim, which was only by adoption, and accept Danjuro as Old Man Nekai."
"Yukio?" Jack asked.
"When my mother died, I would have followed her as old woman," Yukio explained. "Control of the Clan is hereditary, unless some serious flaw in the successor is noted. As I was her only child by birth, once I was dead Maru became my mother's heir; as adopted child she had every right of a birth child, save only that a natural child would supersede her regardless of age. She must have prepared herself for this responsibility for more than fifteen years, only for mother to snatch it away from her at the last minute. Why would she do that?"
"I know not," Kanjiro replied.
"How much do you think our reception is going to depend on what Maru tells the Council?" Jack asked.
Yukio shrugged, distractedly. "I can not say. Why?"
"Because I somehow doubt we're going to get a good write-up," Jack replied. "I think we'd better make sure we've got a little back-up on line.
*
Jonas was sitting at the scanner and reading a book when the radio crackled.
"Jonas," Jack said, his voice an amplified whisper.
"Yes, Colonel," Jonas whispered back. "Are you alright?"
"For the moment. We're in a sort of ‘enforced guest' situation at the moment. In the morning we're going to be taken to see the ninja grandmasters and make our case. It's possible that we'll need to be extracted at short notice. Now, the ninjas don't know what radios are, so contact shouldn't be a problem, but we're going to need you and the Shakka fairly close. We'll be moving out early in the morning; can you follow us in the ship."
"Should be easy enough," Jonas replied. "The ship has some simulation programmes built in so I've got a little practice while I've been waiting and the scanners can keep a lock on your radios so I can follow at a distance. I just hope if I have to rescue you that none of them realise this thing is unarmed."
"I tell you what; leave the bluffing to us. You just show up and look big and scary. Hopefully we won't need it anyway."
"I got it," Jonas agreed. "Anything else you need?"
"A bit of luck and a friendly face," Jack replied. "Nothing much that you can do anything about. How's your guest?"
"Surly," Jonas replied. "I'll need to take her some supper in a minute."
"Well be careful. Remember she'd kill you as soon as look at you if she thought she could escape."
"I'll bear it in mind. Good luck for tomorrow."
"You too," Jack said. "Over and out."
*
Inari found her husband on the battlements, staring out across the plain to the south. He wore only his robes and she knew that the wind would be biting, even through the layered silk and the wool of his undergarments. In silence she approached and hung his cloak around his shoulders.
"What ails you, my love?" Gojira asked, receptive to his wife's moods without even needing to look at her.
"My warriors tell me that you gathered a hunting party not long before sunset," Inari said. "You tried to overrule the Empress' express command that all Dragon Guards and Kitsunes were to remain within the confines of the fortress."
Gojira nodded his head in acknowledgement, then answered the question that his wife had not asked. "She is here. I had hoped that I could find her and face her, away from you and from Jiro."
"I know," she replied. "I feel her presence, as you do. I am sorry for ever doubting you, My Lord."
Gojira stepped back against the warmth of Inari's and allowed her to fold him in her arms, although his eyes never left the southern sky. "If I had not seen her with my own eyes, I would have doubted myself," he assured her.
"Do you regret your choices, Gojira?" Inari asked.
He laid his hands over hers and squeezed them tightly. "I regret nothing that brought me to you," he replied.
"Do you never wish for a simple life?"
Gojira turned and held Inari close. "If my grandfather's sacrifice had not elevated me to the ranks of the Bushi, I would never have met you. I would have lived my whole life empty, for I know that you are and ever were the only woman for me. Do you regret your choices, My Lady?"
"Yes," she replied. "I would not be without you for a second, but I have done things that I am ashamed to remember. My elevation was not so honourable as yours. Perhaps Nekai Yukio is not coming for you after all."
"If she wants you, she will have to answer to me," Gojira said.
Inari looked up at him. "And if she does want you?"
Gojira touched his wife's face. "I have you to protect me."
"And if she wants Jiro?"
Gojira fell silent. Inari knew what he was thinking, for her thoughts were the same. They both lived their lives by Bushido and death held no fear for them, but the death in infancy of their firstborn son still haunted the couple and any threat to Ichiro's brother, Jiro, turned their blood to ice. They were both keenly aware that their second child was almost two years old; almost the age at which Ichiro had succumbed to the damp fever.
"We will not let it happen," Gojira whispered, but the reassurance was hollow. They had sworn to save Ichiro as well, but the damp fever could not be fought with a sword. The boy had died, and there was nothing that the two greatest Bushi in the world could do to save him. A gaki bent on vengeance would likely prove similarly heedless of their skill.
"Come back to our chambers," Inari sighed. "If one of us is to die, I will not have Jiro spend these few nights in the arms of a nursemaid."
Gojira nodded. "Yes, my love," he agreed, but his eyes still strayed towards the south.
*
Nodori was nestled in foothills of the Mountains of Storms, some two hundred miles from Aichiba. In the cool of the morning, the Ushiba placed their three ‘guests' on a wagon and set out. As the sun rose higher and the day grew hotter the forest began to feel more like a jungle. Jack's frustration grew with every passing minute; the ninjas set a swift pace but the journey was still going to take all of the morning and Arcadia was running out of time.
"How long is this going to take once we get to Nodori?" Jack demanded.
"Yukio said it could take anything up to a day," Sam reminded him. She sighed. "Still; at least we'll be doing something once we get there. This is the part I don't like; the waiting."
"We're not waiting, Carter," Jack replied, laconically. "We're riding."
"Try to get some sleep or something, Sir," she suggested. "We'll wait and see if Yukio manages to get any more information."
"Who's she going to get information from?"
"My money's on Kanjiro," Sam said. "He seems rather taken with Yukio."
Jack gave a short laugh. "I think his dad's as likely a candidate."
"You think Maru would let Yukio talk to Kirano?"
"You think she'll let her talk to Kanjiro?" Jack riposted. "That's the trouble; Maru won't be keen on Yukio talking to anyone."
"I think you underestimate Yukio, Sir."
Jack shrugged. "I think you underestimate Maru. Hell hath no fury, after all and..." He broke off as Yukio vaulted up into the back of the wagon. "You're in disgustingly good shape for a woman of your age," he told her.
Yukio shrugged. "I'm only forty-three," she reminded him.
Jack just grunted. "Any luck?" he asked.
"More than a little," she replied, morosely. "Maru aside, not one of them has the slightest suspicion of me."
"That seems very trusting of them."
"It all comes down to Tokuwara Mifune," Yukio explained.
"The Bushi who killed you?" Sam asked.
"Godzilla?" Jack added.
Yukio nodded. "His parents were peasants. He was the grandson of a pig farmer, but when that farmer died in the da'natra, his children were adopted by the Tokuwara ji-samurai. That is the reward for serving in the Divine Storm. Mifune was a baby at the time, but his mother was taken on as a handmaiden to the Tokuwara's youngest daughter and permitted to bring her child with her."
"So he became a Dragon Guard and killed you?" Jack asked. "How does that translate into no-one thinking it's odd that you haven't aged in two decades?"
"Mifune was raised alongside the children of the Bushi but he always kept in contact with his peasant kin," Yukio said. "When he killed me and Freyja took my body up to the Sesrumnir, he saw a great light sweep me up and scatter my mortal remains; he saw me atomised, as the bodies of the spirits are atomised. The common people of Yomi believe that there are spirits in all things in the world; the kami. When he saw me vanish, Mifune believed that I was either a spirit myself or one touched by them. He told this to his mother, who told her mother, who told her village and the word spread. It seems that I have become something of a...myth."
Jack and Sam stared at Yukio in amazement.
"I have been seen many times in the last twenty years," she went on. "I appeared to my mother in a dream; I've led children out of danger and rallied beleaguered ninja by my mere presence. All rubbish of course; I haven't been back here since I died. The Bushi also see me; I am told that they believe me to be a gaki; an avenging ghost."
Jack sighed. "I hate to seem insensitive, oh great spirit," he said, "but did you learn anything that might have bearing on our mission."
"They rejoice at the death of Susanowa and especially of Niningi and Tomoe, but they have little interest in the doings of other worlds. This will not be easy," she admitted. "And before you ask, Colonel, I won't do it."
"Do what?" Jack asked, innocently.
"I won't play up my supposed divinity to get them to help. I will do all I can to stop Izanami, alone if I have to, but I won't manipulate my people by pretending to be a god."
Jack nodded. "Fair enough," he agreed. "Do you think we can pull this off?"
"Whatever may have happened, these are my people," Yukio assured him. "I trust in them to do what is right."
"I hope you're right," Jack sighed. "I really do."
"I do have some information that might be of use," Yukio admitted. "I now know that we take ship at the riverside in less than ten minutes and will arrive at Nodori by sunset. The council will receive us on our arrival."
"Can you tell us anything about this council?" Sam asked.
Yukio grinned. "That I can do," she replied.
*
As Yukio explained it, the ninja clans had begun life as simple peasant families. At some time in the past, more than a thousand years ago, pockets of resistance against the cruel regime of the Daimyo had begun to develop. Unable to compete head-to-head with the might of the Daimyo and the ji-samurai, they developed the arts of guerrilla warfare; stealth, sneak attack, poison and terror tactics. At first they simply defended themselves and their kin, striking down raiding parties of Bushi and murdering the occasional Daimyo who wondered into range with too little escort, but as they grew in size and strength the clans became more proactive.
By the time of Nekai Fujiko the ninja clans claimed almost a third of the peasant population as their kin and allies. The names of the twelve greatest clans were so well known to the Daimyo that they were forced to take different names in public – on all records, Yukio's family name was Bando – and the Daimyo considered the ninja to be the greatest threat to their power. Unfortunately, with this strength came arrogance and corruption. Several of the clans began taxing the populations which they protected and accumulating wealth for themselves. The leaders of the Ikeda and Ueda clans even began to hire out the services of their clans to the Daimyo as assassins.
Nekai Fujiko was the eldest daughter of Old Man Nekai, unarguably the most influential of the clan leaders. She became her father's heir when her elder brother was killed by the Ikeda clan in an attempt to overthrow the Nekai's power base, but she lost two more brothers to simple folly when the plans of the Nekai conflicted with those of the Ushiba. Two rival ninja bands fell to fighting in the castle of one of the Fudai Daimyo. The struggled attracted the attention of the Bushi guards, three ninjas were captured and more than a hundred lives were lost as a result of the information extracted from them, including Fujiko's brothers.
Fujiko decided that things had gone far enough. Over the next twelve years she gathered support for a bold new idea: A council of the clans to coordinate all ninja activity and to prevent abuses of power. Naturally the heads of the so-called Golden Clans – those who sought to enrich themselves – were angered by her words and actions, but all attempts to have her killed failed. When her father died and she became the Old Woman, Fujiko acted to put her plans into action.
The first step was the elimination of the Golden Clans. Fujiko's supporters in the Ashikaga, Ushiba, Kataoka and Saito clans worked with her own Nekai in a series of devastating raids against the lordly, mountain strongholds of the Ikeda and Ueda clans. The corrupt leadership of the Golden Clans was decimated and the ranks of their followers absorbed into the clans of Fujiko's supporters. Fujiko killed Old Man Ikeda with her own sword in revenge for her brother's death and she declared the people who had paid tribute to both clans to be under her protection. Three other clans immediately stopped demanding tribute of their peasantry.
It was another ten years before Fujiko stood on the verge of achieving her ambitions. She had called a meeting of the clan heads which seemed set to see the founding of the Council, but then the raids began. The Bushi struck with deadly accuracy at Nekai safe houses across the West. Fujiko's beloved husband and daughter were slain and the Clan scattered. Devastation spread through the clans; the Nekai were tortured and some of them broke and not a single clan was untouched by the raids. The planned meeting of elders never took place and it was to be another fifteen years before a much older Fujiko was able by force of will to forge an alliance of the seven most powerful surviving clans.
Now, Jack and Sam stood before the heads of those seven clans and their supporters, all of them heavily armed. Yukio had genuflected before the elders and now she knelt and told the story of the vicious assault on Arcadia. Sam and Jack had been allowed to hover at the back of the hall.
"So which of this lot is which?" Jack whispered. Yukio had given them a rundown of each of the elders and their reputation but he was having difficulty remembering which name went with which clan and which distinguishing mark.
"The one in the middle must be Kimiko," Sam replied, not sounding much more certain than Jack was. "Old Woman Ashikaga. She has the same topknot as Kirano and Kanjiro and you can just make out a resemblance around the eyes."
Jack nodded and regarded Ashikaga Kirano's mother. Her hair was iron grey and her skin as wrinkled as a prune, but she held herself very straight and had strength as well as poise in her bearing. Her eyes had something in common with Kirano and Kanjiro, but they were hard as flints where Kirano's were wavering and Kanjiro's soft with emotion.
"As wily as a fox and twice as deadly," Jack murmured, repeating Yukio's words. "I don't see much of her in her son; or her grandson. She doesn't look like she's cutting Yukio an inch of slack."
"Can't say the same about Ushiba Isei," Sam noted. "He looks as awed and lovestruck as the Ashikaga boys and I hardly think he deserves to be called ‘Old Man'," she added, eyeing the twelve year old boy in the over-sized Ushiba jacket. A lean, wolfish-looking man with pure white hair stood at his shoulder.
"I think the old guy behind him is probably the real power in the clan," Jack surmised. "He looks shrewd enough, but less hostile than Ashikaga."
"Now, the fellow on Ushiba's right must be Hideki Seisi," Sam said.
"Unless he's from the other clan with major facial tattoos," Jack suggested.
Seisi was another veteran, grey-haired with a face like a stone wall, its left side almost completely covered by a complex tattoo of a dragon. His dark eyes showed toughness and compassion in equal measure; his look reminded Sam of Jack and she was fairly certain he could be swayed in their favour.
Yukio had explained that the Hideki were a mountain clan, a rugged folk who lived free from dominion in the Mountains of Storm where no Daimyo made their home. Nevertheless, they were under constant threat from the raiders and hunting parties who came to snatch their children, burn their settlements or stalk the dragons and eagles of the mountains. The most fanatical of the Daimyo's enemies, they marked their allegiance with facial tattoos so that they could never seek refuge behind a false identity. Like the Bushi, the Hideki would sooner die than be captured; they had devised a venom from the blood of the dragons which could kill a person so that even the sarcophagus would not raise them.
"I think that must be Murata Gemmei," Jack went on, nodding towards a grim-faced woman who wore a loose coat over her tunic and pants. The coat was caked in dust from the road and one arm was bandaged in a sling beneath the coat; the trail dust certainly made sense if this was Gemmei, as Yukio had explained that the lands of the Murata were more distant than any other, in the Mountains of the Sun in the North.
Sam nodded. "That arm must be uncomfortable; she's fidgeting. Each time she moves you can see her sword doesn't have a scabbard." That was the mark of the Murata; they wore their swords naked in their belts. "She doesn't look very friendly," Sam noted.
"Yukio said that they were friends," Jack reminded her. "That was twenty years ago. Besides, I'd bet if you'd ridden hard overnight with a broken arm and lost two friends on the journey, you'd look pretty cranky too."
"True enough. So that only leaves one other woman, who must be Old Woman Teshigara. Sumiko. She's kind of..."
"Scary?"
"That's the word," Sam agreed.
Teshigara Sumiko was indeed a very intimidating figure. Her clan lived a semi-nomadic life among the people of the Plain of Jahara and her skin was tanned nut-brown by constant exposure to the sun; her eyes were narrow, black slits in her dark face. Her age was almost impossible to judge; her features looked as though time had weathered them, like wind and rain would weather a statue, instead of leaving the usual marks of age on a human face. There was a preternatural stillness about her and her face was as unreadable as a block of wood. The mark of her clan was a string of human knuckle bones which she wore about her neck. Yukio had said that each bone denoted a Bushi or a Daimyo she had killed and Sumiko's necklace was a double string with at least forty or fifty bones upon it.
"I have no idea if she's for us or against us," Jack admitted. "At least we can be a little more certain of Yasuda Kyusu; not that I'm so comforted by the support of a man with his hair in a bun."
Sam elbowed Jack in the side, although she knew he would never be so tactless as to say any such thing to Old Man Yasuda's face. Yasuda Kyoto was probably the oldest member of the council and the silver needle which announced his allegiance was almost invisible against the silver of his hair. He sat beside his neighbour in the fertile Greenlands, Old Man Nekai; Yukio's cousin, Danjuro.
Danjuro was clearly of an age with Murata Gemmei and Maru, and presumably therefore with Yukio as well. He was handsome and proud, with his hair tied in a long plait and secured with the spurred, jet bauble which Yukio still wore. If Yasuda looked receptive to Yukio's arguments, Danjuro was gazing at her with almost religious ecstasy. There should not be much trouble there.
Yukio had finished the retelling of the battle for Arcadia – the death of Susanowa and Niningi had been well-received, raising a cheer from the crowd, although the elders settled for a satisfied nod – and had moved on to explain the reasons for their arrival. This was proving less popular and by the time she had completed her account the mood of the room had turned against her.
There was a long silence, then Ashikaga Kimiko leaned forward and regarded Yukio with suspicious eyes. "You spoke of the death of the whore, Tomoe."
Yukio flinched a little.
"But you do not say how she died," Kimiko went on.
"She...returned to Arcadia to expunge the shame of her defeat and was shot down by the garrison," Yukio explained.
The other elders nodded, but Kimiko continued to stare fixedly at Yukio.
"The visitors will withdraw," Danjuro said, after another pregnant silence. "Cousin; you will see that they are treated as honoured guests," he told Maru.
Maru's expression could have burned a hole through the blast doors at Cheyenne Mountain.
*
Maru took the visitors away from the council hall to a small chamber, its floor lined with mats. She instructed her son to fetch refreshments, then rounded on Yukio.
"So this is why you return to us!" Maru snarled. "Twenty years – twenty ageless years – and now you come only to try and embroil us in the wars and strife of another world. Do we not have troubles of our own, Nekai Yukio? Is it not enough that we fight here for our survival? Would you have your own people die for the sake of strangers?"
"Strangers who rid you of Susanowa and Niningi," Yukio reminded Maru.
"And what will that do?" Maru demanded. "The loss of her kin will drive Izanami to a rage. She will squeeze the Daimyo hard to maintain control and they will squeeze the people. Have you any idea what this world was like in your absence, Yukio? When he received word of mother's plans, Susanowa would stop at nothing to stamp us out. Villages were burned, populations slaughtered. Hundreds of our friends and allies were forced to wear the yoke of da'natra to save their families; hundreds more were caught by Susanowa's random purges.
"For twenty years the Daimyo had hunted us and murdered anything that strayed into their path. After two decades we had finally convinced Susanowa that we were destroyed. He declared the ninja exterminated and twenty years of terror was ended at last. But you said that Gojira recognised you; now the terror will begin again! Our families, friends and neighbours must live in fear once more!"
Yukio stood her ground in the face of Maru's rage. "Not if Izanami is too busy fighting the other Daimyo."
"How convenient for you that our hope lies in fulfilling your purpose."
"What would you have had me do?" Yukio demanded. "Abandon the people of Arcadia? Let Niningi murder their children for fear of bringing his rage upon ours? We swore to protect any who were oppressed by the Goa'uld, Maru. Have you forgotten?"
Maru's face flamed red. "No I have not forgotten!" she snapped, angrily. "When we swore to abandon the divisions of clan...The taking of that oath was the only thing mother ever had us do together as sisters; the only time I felt as much her child as you. But you still have no right to ask this of our people! It is not our fight!"
"Yes it is!"
Both Yukio and Maru looked around in astonishment at Kanjiro's shout. The boy stood in the doorway, quivering with rage. Jack feared that Kanjiro might be about to lose control of the tray he was carrying and so he lifted it deftly from the shaking hands.
"Kanjiro..." Maru began.
"She is right," Kanjiro insisted. "We are sworn to protect all. You simply can not stand that she has returned. You have always felt small in her shadow."
In the silence that followed Kanjiro's words you could have heard a pin drop.
It was Yukio who spoke first, her voice hollow and desolate. "How dare you speak to your mother like that?" she demanded of Kanjiro.
"Do not presume to chide my son!" Maru cried, her voice cracking. "Kanjiro, get out!"
"I will not..."
"Get out!" Maru screamed. "Get out!"
Kanjiro turned and fled his mother's rage.
Maru rounded on Yukio again. "So this too you come for? To steal away the affections of my son? Is it not enough that you had the love of our mother and of my husband?"
Yukio looked desolate. "Maru..."
"Do not sleep in this house," Maru hissed. "If your eyes once close while we share a roof, I swear they will never open." She spun on her heel and stormed out. Once more, silence fell across the room.
"Saki?" Jack offered, weakly.
*
In the Fortress of Jahara, Okuni once more attended on the Queen-Empress.
"Revered Ancestress," he reported, "all of your Imperial Forces have been recalled. Four of the ha'tak vessels have already returned to planetary orbit and the remaining three will arrive within three days. The muster is underway; six legions of Bushi are already armed and ready and the royal guards are prepared. We will be ready to set forth in five days."
"Excellent," Izanami said. "You shall blast this world until nothing moves on its surface but dust in the wind, do you understand?"
"If you will take my advice, My Empress, you shall accompany the fleet and we shall instead conquer this world. I have little doubt that the Daimyo will have taken this fortress from our reserves before we could return and we would find our own lunar weaponry raised against us. If you remain then you will fall with Jahara; you will be slain or worse, taken as a prize by the usurper. If we remove our court then we can take Arcadia and make its people our slaves; we shall at least be left with a home."
"You are a coward!" Izanami accused, angrily. "I weep that you are all that remains of the line of my beloved Izanagi."
Okuni's eyes flashed in his rage. "Order it and I will see Arcadia reduced to a smouldering ball of dust," he assured his grandmother, "but ask me not to stand silent and let the wisdom and grace of Izanami be wiped out by a moment of grieving madness!"
Izanami leaped to her feet. "Hear me, Okuni-Nushi-no-Mikoto!" she hissed. "The assault on Arcadia will be swift and merciless. You will exterminate all life on that miserable rock and return at once to Jahara. Occupying forces will be sent by Chappa'ai to mine the naquadah variant which Niningi's probes detected."
"Madness!" Okuni snapped. "That variant has formed from lying in the earth alongside veins of poisoned steel. Even if the plans for Niningi's new weapons prove tenable, this ‘pernaquadah' will be unstable and impossible to mine. Why else would Helios not have mined it already?"
Izanami roared with a fury Okuni had never seen from her before. "You will obey me!"
With a daring that bordered on impudence, Okuni approached to the very foot of the Empress' throne and knelt at her feet. He took his grandmother's slender hand in his and pressed his forehead to her knuckles. "In all things, My Empress," he promised her, "yet always I must think of your safety."
"Your father and your brother lie dead..."
"And with my mother a traitor, you are all the blood kin I have left, grandmother!" Wisely, Okuni remembered not to speak of Lady Tomoe as though she were one of the imperial family's dead.
Izanami's rage subsided and she gazed down on her grandson with patient love. "Brave Okuni," she said, tenderly. "You worry too much. Arcadia's fall will be swift, your brother's weapons will be a boon to us in the war with Anubis; an edge that will heal any rift between us and Lord Yu."
"The alliance is too fragile..." Okuni began, but Izanami silenced him with a gesture.
"Alliances can be strengthened in many ways. We shall share these weapons with Lord Yu and we shall establish also a bond of blood between us."
"My Empress?"
"You, my grandson, will be joined in marriage to the White Lady, Su-o Nu; a Queen of Lord Yu's house."
Okuni was taken aback. "My Empress...You have discussed this with Lord Yu?"
"Naturally," Izanami assured him. "I am not in my dotage yet, grandson. I have made many arrangements with Lord Yu to release my forces in order to claim an unspecified advantage and I assure you that the Daimyo are in hand." She patted his face, fondly. "Trust in your grandmother, for she is old and cunning."
*
With exquisite care, Hachiman threaded his vessel through the currents of the Firestorm. The yacht was unfamiliar to him, but the controls were like those of a teltac and the ship was more responsive than any in his past experience. It flew much as it looked; with its sleek, dark lines, the yacht seemed as though the very air should slide from its hull like water from an oiled hide. Even without its cloaking device the ship had been difficult to see against the night sky and that cloak was the most sophisticated device of its kind ever created by the Goa'uld. Hachiman loved the vessel more deeply than he had ever loved a living being.
"Increase engine power to nine-twelfths maximum thrust," he said. "Shields trim for atmospheric re-entry."
"Engine power to nine-twelfths," the ship's computer replied in its neutral tenor. "Shields trimmed for re-entry; energy deflection recalibrated for passage through the magnetosphere of Yomi."
"Yomi," Hachiman breathed, as the world filled the screen in front of him. "It has been so many years."
"Yet your memory does not betray us, I see," his employer noted. "We are unharmed by the ravages of the Firestorm."
Hachiman glanced over his shoulder to the figure seated in the throne behind him, but his focus soon shifted to the screens. "It was I who charted these currents for Izanagi," he said. "None will ever know them as I do."
"And yet they abandoned you."
"They abandoned me," he agreed, cold rage boiling beneath his focused exterior. "That bastard pup Susanowa left me to die, knowing that Izanami would have favoured me if I had survived; I should have been the emperor after Izanagi. I; Hachiman the Great!"
"And you shall be," his employer assured him. "You will be granted your promised reward; never fear for that, Hachiman. Yomi will be yours."
Hachiman gave a hungry, wolfish grin. "Three thousand years," he growled. "They should have known that I would not be so easily slain; that I would return and be avenged. Well, I have returned and soon they will regret their treachery," he declared, for perhaps the hundredth time on this journey.
"Yes," his employer agreed, patiently.
Clouds filled the screen as the yacht dropped through the atmosphere and then the Plain of Jahara appeared before them. "I will land us in the north, in the foothills of the Mountains of the Sun. My old stronghold was there. I do not know who holds that place now, but I will wager that my fortress still keeps enough of her secrets that we can seize her without effort. It will be a place to start."
His employer nodded once. "So be it."
Hachiman-no-Mikoto, as reticent as any great Goa'uld to take orders, even from those he knew to hold greater power than he, smothered his loathing and spat in terse reply: "Yes, My Lady."
*
It was Kirano who came to fetch Yukio, Jack and Sam from the waiting room. Jack guessed that Maru really did not want to have anything to do with them. She was in the hall when they were led in, however. She cast a fierce scowl at her foster sister and a look scarcely less hateful at her husband. Jack's attention was swiftly drawn from Maru's rage to the dour faces of the Council.
"Nekai Yukio," Danjuro began. "We have listened to the case which you have put before us. We, the Council, have determined that although we sympathise with the people of Arcadia and although we owe them a debt for ridding us of many of the cruellest of the Daimyo, their war is not ours."
Yukio deflated, but before either she or Jack could protests, Teshigara Sumiko spoke. "However," she said, "we recognise your arguments that to sow discord among the Daimyo can only be to our advantage. Therefore as far as it does not harm our people, the ninja of the seven clans and their allies will aid your efforts."
"We hope that we can receive the benefit of your counsel in this matter," Ushiba Seisi added.
"My counsel?" Yukio asked, flattered but baffled.
"Of course," Ashikaga Kimiko said. "The Council will be glad to take any advice from Old Woman Nekai."
"What!" Maru cried, livid.
"Control yourself, Nekai Maru," Teshigara Sumiko said, sternly.
"I am honoured," Yukio said, "but I can not accept this..."
"It is your right," Danjuro insisted.
Maru stormed out of the hall. Yukio began to call after her, but she was gone. It did not escape the notice of anyone present that Kirano neither followed his wife nor made any move to stop her.
"It is your right," Danjuro repeated, "and it is also your duty."
"Honoured elders..." Yukio began.
Danjuro stepped down and took the barbed bauble from his hair. He removed the more simple weight from Yukio's plait and replaced it with the one made from silver-and-jet. "Welcome home, Old Woman Nekai," he said. "The Council waits your presence to begin its deliberations."
Yukio looked helplessly to Jack and Sam. Sam returned the look in kind and Jack just shrugged.
"Thank you, Danjuro," she sighed, the first signs of panic entering her eyes. Her hands were beginning to shake. "I will be with you all presently; I just need a moment in private with my own...adviser."
"Of course," Kimiko agreed.
Yukio looked sick. "Sam," she said.
"Yes."
"Come on. Advise me."
"I can not do this!" Yukio wailed. "I never should have come back, Sam! This is not right. We...We can run! Call Jonas and..."
"Calm down, Yukio," Sam said, in a soothing tone. "Come on; this is your plan and we have to use this."
Yukio looked horrified. "Use it?" she asked. "You want me to make these people do what I want by abusing the fact that they revere me as a...a saint?"
"No," Sam sighed.
"They believe I am a living spirit, Sam," Yukio pleaded. "Even Old Woman Ashikaga is deferring to me; she never even deferred to my mother!"
Sam put her arms around the ninja. "Just do the best you can," she said. "That's all anyone can do. Make this plan of yours work and try to help your people at the same time."
Yukio nodded, dejectedly. "Can you cover for me?" she asked.
"Planning to make a run for it?"
"No," she replied, "but I need information. I need to have one more shot at talking to Tomoe; I'll pick up Jonas while I'm there."
*
Yukio rapped on the hatch of the Shakka and it slid open.
"You do know you're glowing?" Jonas asked.
"It can't be helped. I had to switch on the gauntlet's active scanners to find the ship," Yukio replied. "Any trouble from Lady Tomoe?"
"Not much of anything. I looked in on her a few times; I swear she didn't move a muscle in over three hours."
"The Daimyo can be very patient when they have to," Yukio agreed. "Even though they are also capable of terrible rashness. I need to have a word with her," she explained. "After that we're both heading back to Nodori so I want to make absolutely sure that Lady Tomoe is secure and safe. I probably won't be long; you don't mind waiting a few minutes more?"
"It's fine," Jonas nodded. "Should I listen in, just in case?"
"Good thinking." Yukio smiled her thanks, then went through to the hold. Tomoe was sitting very still, her bonds hanging around her with an aching air of listless apathy.
"What do you want, ninja?" Tomoe demanded without looking up. "There is nothing that you can do to hurt me anymore. My family is shamed; I have failed my lord's memory and forfeited all honour. I am worse than dead and not even death can release me."
"As you say," Yukio agreed, listlessly, "but it was never my intention to hurt you at all."
"She will launch her attack soon, will she not?" Tomoe asked.
"We believe so."
Tomoe shook her head. "It will be a slaughter," she announced.
"Do not underestimate the Arcadians," Yukio retorted.
At last, Tomoe looked up at her questioner. "I did not mean that the Arcadians would be slaughtered, although they will not escape so lightly again. The attack on Arcadia will cost the lives of thousands of Bushi and dozens of the Empress' most trusted Daimyo; it will break her power and destroy the alliance with Lord Yu, leaving Yomi to fall into chaos and eventually to be taken by Anubis. I knew from the start that that world would bring nothing but death upon us."
Yukio could not help but ask: "Then why go?"
"My Lord Niningi believed that the naquadah derivative in the Hades Mines would yield unprecedented energy levels. He had designed a series of weapons which were to have been the linchpin in the campaign against Anubis."
"You do not sound convinced," Yukio noted.
"I am a warrior; I have little understanding of science, but Lord Okuni-Nushi believed that mining and refining the derivative would have been too slow and costly to make any difference to the war. It did not matter; Niningi was my lord, not Okuni."
"But even with none but Okuni-Nushi at her side, you believe that the Empress will press the assault on Arcadia?"
"She will be driven; compelled by the call of vengeance. She will launch her attack with all of her strength, unless this whole world rises against her before she leaves," Tomoe replied. "Or at least a substantial number of the Daimyo."
"That is what we hope to achieve," Yukio admitted.
"You will have no luck with the Shinpan Daimyo," Tomoe assured her. "The Empress will already have purged their ranks of any who show signs of disloyalty. The Fudai on the other hand...Some of them are more than halfway there already. My father, Lord Juntoku, has long since abandoned dreams of dominion, but his neighbour, Lady Jingo-no-Shijo has always been ambitious."
Yukio looked at Tomoe, wondering if she could trust this information. "Thank you," she sighed at last.
"I do not do this for you," Tomoe assured her. "If this madness is permitted to grip the Empress, then one for whom I care shall be its first victim."
"Lord Okuni-Nushi?"
Tomoe's emotional defences closed down, hard.
Yukio nodded in understanding. She left the hold and sealed the hatch behind her.
"How is she, do you think?" Jonas asked.
Yukio shook her head. "Dying by degrees. I'm not sure that she still has the will left to end her own life if I removed the needle."
"Is it any use? What she said in there?"
Yukio nodded, glumly. "Up until now I've mostly just heard her whole, tragic life story, but at last we may have something useful. There's nothing left for her now, you realise; not even a clean death."
"What was that about Okuni-Nushi?" Jonas asked.
"There was a third tattoo on her body," Yukio admitted. "Over her heart she wears the image of a wolf."
"And what does that represent?"
"Love," Yukio replied with a sigh. "Yoman wolves mate for life. Once a pair have bonded they become inseparable and unlike other wolves they do not always pair strong-to-strong. No-one knows why they pair as they do, but strong wolves sometimes pair with weaker members of the pack, although conventional understanding of natural law is against it."
Jonas looked at her, quizzically. "You mean they fall in love?"
"Perhaps," Yukio chuckled. "But the truly incredible thing is their devotion. They will fight animals twice their size to protect each other and stand together before a hunting party's weapons. When one member of a pair dies, the other will never mate again. They may continue for a while, particularly if they are still defending their cubs, but soon – usually within the year – if they do not tangle with something too powerful for them to overcome then they will simply stop eating and die. That is why the wolf represents absolute devotion and fidelity. Now why would a concubine who despised her lord and spent weeks in burning agony to wear a symbol of solitude across her back also bear the mark of fidelity? Unless her devotion were to another."
"So..." Jonas paused, uncomfortably. He looked almost as melancholy as Yukio felt. "What do we do now?"
"We join the others, I take my place as Old Woman Nekai and we plan our campaign."
*
Planning the campaign proved to be deeply embarrassing to Yukio, since it largely involved the other elders standing around and listening to her give out. Even persuading them to provide her with up-to-date intelligence was an uphill struggle. Finally, she was able to persuade them that she did not see all and know all and left them to debate the best targets and the best ways to rouse them against the Daimyo while she fled to privacy and quiet.
She retreated to the room set aside for the Nekai clan's elder. The chamber had been hastily cleared of Danjuro's effects, leaving it bare save for a few Spartan pieces of furniture. There she found the solitude she sought, but the welcome respite was all too brief and after a few minutes she was disturbed by a gentle knock at the door.
"Yukio?"
"Kirano," Yukio replied, warily.
"I can hardly believe it," Kirano admitted. "Since the word came of the fate which befell you at Hajima, I have dreamed of your return."
"That seems a disservice to Maru," Yukio noted. "I'm sorry, Kirano, but I need to be alone right now. Unless..."
"Yes?"
"Is Ashime here?" Yukio asked, hopefully. She felt her insides begin to tie themselves in knots as she approached the question she most wanted to ask, but which she was most afraid to hear answered.
Kirano looked away, awkwardly. "You did not know?"
Yukio's heart sank. "She did not...? She is dead?"
Kirano shrugged. "None know and few care," he said. "You will recall that Old Man Kataoka supported the formation of the council but then set himself up as your mother's great rival for control of the clans."
"In his mind only," Yukio scoffed. "She sought not for power."
Kirano nodded his agreement. "What none knew, however, was that Old Man Kataoka had seized what he perceived as an opportunity and begun offering the services of his clan to the Daimyo who had once employed the Ikeda and Ueda. When he realised that he would never be accepted over your mother he used those connections in a bid to destroy the Nekai. It was the Kataoka who betrayed your family and it was Kataoka Ashime who betrayed you at Hajima."
"No!" Yukio exclaimed, horrified. "But she was my blood sister!"
"Whether she paid for her treachery with death or was rewarded and spirited away to some Bushi stronghold, none can say."
"But..." Yukio could hardly force the question from her lips. "But what of...of the child?"
Kirano shrugged, helplessly, and could not bring himself to answer.
Yukio gave a strangled cry and slumped onto a seat. Kirano fell to his knees beside her and folded her in his arms. For a long moment, she let herself take comfort from his embrace, but then she pulled away. Kirano looked up at her, his eyes shining with adoration.
"Kirano..." she began.
"I love you, Yukio. I have always loved you. I know I am an old man now..."
"Not so very old," she assured him. "But you are Maru's husband, Kirano. You should be with her, not with me."
"Maru has given me leave to be here," Kirano assured her. "Send me away if you will, but so long as you live I have no place at Maru's side."
Yukio felt bile rising in her throat. "Go," she said.
"Yukio?"
"You said to send you away if I wanted, well I do want. Go! Get away from me, Kirano."
"But, my love..."
"Don't you understand?" Yukio cried. "Didn't you ever see it? It was never I who loved you." She shook her head in self-disgust. "Go, Kirano. Please."
"As you wish," he said, kindly. He took her hand and kissed it. She snatched it back so fast that she struck him in the nose; he only laughed. "Rest, my love," he said, then he left.
Yukio sat at Danjuro's table and beat her head slowly against its surface. Then she activated her communicator and tuned it to SG-1's frequency. "Colonel O'Neill," she said.
"Yes, Yukio?"
"I need to ask you a favour," Yukio explained. "It...It's a little awkward. Could you..."
"I'll be with you in a minute," Jack confirmed.
*
Nekai Maru wandered out towards the edge of Nodori. Unarmed – save for a hidden blade – and dressed in a loose, nondescript smock and trousers, she looked like just another peasant, save that her long hair hung freely around her shoulders rather than being caught back. At the main gate in the palisade which surrounded Nodori, she halted and gazed out into the night. The flat, grey vista of the Stonelands stretched away in front of her and from the far distance the cries of wolves drifted to her ears. After a moment's pause she stepped through the gate and walked out into the sparse fields, then turned left and headed for the river. The sentries knew the daughter of Nekai Fujiko by sight and her passing was unchallenged, despite the lateness of the hour.
By the riverside she stooped to lift a stone and with a flick of her wrist sent it skipping across the smooth surface of the water.
"Six. That's pretty impressive." Jack strode up beside Maru and tried his hand. The stone he selected skipped only three times. He shook his head. "Never any good at that," he admitted.
Maru turned to leave.
"Stay," Jack told her. "If you really want to be alone I'll leave, but I thought you might want to talk."
"Talk, Colonel? What is there to talk about?"
Jack chose a comfortable looking rock and sat down. "Your husband claims you told him he could sleep with Yukio if he wanted."
Maru laughed, bitterly. "She told you? I suppose everyone knows by now."
"Just me," Jack assured her. "She was worried about you, Maru. May I call you Maru?"
She shrugged.
"Why not take a seat, Maru?" he suggested. "I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I have to stare up at you."
With ill-grace, Maru sat down beside Jack.
"You don't seem like a quitter to me," he noted. "In fact, you don't seem to me to be the kind of woman who gives up on anything. So what I wonder is why you seem so willing to give up your husband."
"I have no husband, Colonel," Maru replied, her voice so soft that it was almost drowned by the gentle ripple of the water against the riverbank. "Kirano was only ever borrowed."
"That's pretty bleak."
"Did she tell you that I have loved him all my life," Maru said, in a voice filled with pain. "Since we were children, Kirano and I were friends; sweethearts."
"So what happened?"
Tears sprang up in Maru's eyes. "Whatever she may think, I never wanted Yukio to hate me; quite the opposite in fact. She was my elder sister for almost as long as I have been able to remember and I idolised her from the start. I felt so clumsy around her. Everything came so easily to her, you see; she excelled in all the arts of the clans almost without effort and I wanted so much to be like her. I tried so hard to do well and impress Yukio and our mother...or her mother, as neither of them ever lost an opportunity to remind me. Only father ever made me feel a part of that family and maybe because of that it was mother and Yukio I most wanted to think well of me.
"But perhaps I tried too hard, for by ceaseless effort I surpassed Yukio in our studies; they could never forgive me for that. Mother accused me of wanting to shame my sister – it was funny how she always called us sisters when she believed I had breached my familial duty. Yukio decided to punish me for humiliating her – as she saw it – and since I spent so much of my time at my studies and practice, it was easy for Kirano to be swayed by the attentions of a woman who had had time to develop her social skills and who actually spent time with him; especially one as beautiful as Yukio."
Jack stared at Maru for a moment, then turned to look out across the river. "What a bitch," he said.
Maru gave a tearful smile. "I had not realised it myself before then," she admitted. "But then I saw the look in her eyes when she passed me by with Kirano at her side and I knew how much she hated me."
"She is sorry," Jack offered. "Actually, that sounds rather feeble now I come to say it. I figured she was being too hard on herself, but she really was a nasty piece of work, wasn't she."
Maru shrugged. "No one else ever seemed to see it; certainly not mother and least of all Kirano."
"Yeah, well; he's an idiot," Jack told her. "Pretty girls are ten a penny...Okay; maybe three for a dollar, but real devotion doesn't come cheap. Besides, you're kind of easy on the eye yourself, you know?" It also struck Jack that, although they were not related by blood, Maru did not look so very unlike Yukio, but it seemed the wrong thing to say at that moment.
"Thank you for saying so," Maru said with a melancholy sigh. "Kirano never thought it. I came to realise that he had seen me as the best he could hope for. He had made do; that was why he fell so hard for Yukio's wiles, because he had never hoped for so great a catch. I tried to win him back when I realised, but it was too late; we had grown apart without my realising and soon her belly was fat with his child."
Jack started. "You mean Kanjiro...?"
Maru shook her head. "He acts like it sometimes and Kirano has raised him to love her memory more than he loves me, but no; Kanjiro is at least the flesh of my flesh. Yukio gave Kirano a daughter, but..." Maru paused. "But that is her story; I will not tell it."
She stopped and gazed into the shimmering surface of the river, like one contemplating a watery suicide. Jack dropped a hand to his side and felt for her fingers in the dark, clasping them in a gentle but firm grip.
"After she died, he almost followed her. He became depressed; he stopped eating and he began drinking heavily. I did what I could for him, but most nights all that that amounted too was dragging him home and getting him cleaned up and into bed safely."
Jack sighed, feeling almost as low as Maru herself at this point. "I take it this isn't the kind of story where he wakes up one morning and realises you were always the one for him?"
"It is not that kind of story," Maru agreed. "One night, in his drunkenness, he actually mistook me for her. I did not attempt to correct his misapprehension. I have tried to convince myself at times that I truly believed that I could make him happy again and that given this chance he could grow to love me, but in truth I was simply lonely and desperate enough to submit to any indignity for a shred of his attention. Whatever image you may have of me, Colonel, I am not a strong woman."
Jack said nothing.
"When he realised what he...what we...I had done Kirano threw me out of his home; he called me all sorts of names and threatened to shame me before all of my family. He knew that I must have permitted his mistake and he despised me for that; almost as much as I despised myself. When I realised that I was pregnant..."
"He married you for Kanjiro's sake," Jack realised.
Maru nodded. "Our bed was not entirely cold," she added, with a bittersweet wistfulness that made Jack's heart ache. "I am not utterly without charms and he was almost as lonely as I by then."
"But no love blossomed?"
She shook her head. "He still wanted Yukio and so..." Maru took a deep breath. "And so I agreed to be Yukio for him."
"No offence," Jack said, "but your husband's an asshole."
Maru shrugged. "I have no idea what that means, but I think that you are probably right. Nevertheless, it is my fault as much as his that from that first, drunken night to our last union twelve days ago, I have always been Yukio for him. Now...now he has no...he has need of that – of me – no longer."
Without another word, Jack folded an arm around Maru's shoulder and pulled her against him as she began to cry. Her body shook with the juddering, indelicate sobs of raw emotional turmoil as all of the pain and resentment of her years of mistreatment flooded out. Jack held her tightly and pressed his face into her hair, saying nothing; only holding her.
At last, cried out, she lifted her face to look at him with red-rimmed eyes. Jack assayed a wan smile and gave the tip of her nose a gentle tap. Slowly, a fragile smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. On an impulse, Jack bent and kissed her; gently at first, then more firmly. Her mouth pushed back against his and Maru half rose from her seat so that Jack's head was tilted back and he almost lost his balance on the stone.
"Um...Maru?"
"Colonel," she whispered.
"Jack," he corrected her.
Maru smiled, broadly and drew away from him. "Thank you, Jack," she sighed. She gave a short bow of gratitude.
Jack took her hand again and squeezed her fingers, gently. "If you start feeling low again, you know where to find me," he offered.
"I do indeed," she replied. She rose to her feet and straightened her smock. "Can you swim, Colonel?"
Later that night, Yukio was woken from the edge of sleep by a soft tapping at her door.
"Yukio," Kirano called, softly. "Yukio."
Yukio gave a melancholy sigh and closed her eyes again.
*
"I feel like an idiot!" Jack declared.
"You look like an idiot," Sam assured him.
"Nonsense," Yukio corrected. "He looks like a komuso. And I wouldn't mock if I were you, Sam; your face doesn't look any more Yoman than the Colonel's, so you'll have to travel as a komuso as well."
"You mean we all need to wear baskets on our heads?" Jack asked, squinting through the wickerwork at Yukio's crooked grin.
"They symbolise separation from and denial of worldly matters," Jonas explained, cheerfully donning his own basket-like headgear. The hat was a wide, wicker dome with a flat top and a flared rim which came down to the level of his shoulders.
"I don't care what it symbolises," Jack replied, "I still feel like an idiot."
"You deserve nothing less," Yukio told him, sternly. "I asked you to talk to Maru, Colonel; not make love to her."
Sam choked in disbelief.
"I did no such thing," Jack replied, primly, glad that the hat hid his blush.
Yukio raised an eyebrow. "That isn't the impression that Kirano seems to have been given."
Jack shrugged. "Ask me how much I care what Kirano thinks," he suggested. "And while I don't say he doesn't deserve to be cheated on more than any man I ever met, this alleged lovemaking consisted of two kisses and one very late swim." Seeing a lack of sympathy from Sam and Yukio, he turned and raised his hands in helpless appeal to Jonas.
Jonas shrugged, uncomfortably, unable to hide the fact that he also disapproved.
"You are such a prude," Jack accused.
"Explain to me again how this plan works," Sam offered as an alternative.
"We travel north, to Origehara, the fortress of one of the Fudai Daimyo, Lord Richo," Yukio explained. "According to the intelligence provided by the Council, Richo will be entertaining another Daimyo, Jingo, who is believed to be proposing an alliance of marriage between them to unite their lands, fortunes and armies. It is Jingo whom Lady Tomoe intimated is ambitious enough to test the Empress' rule if provoked and it seems likely that she will be intending to solicit Richo's aid in her rebellious ambitions as well as his hand in marriage.
"We will infiltrate Origehara in disguise, reconnoitre and then conduct such activities as seem likely to provide the provocation needed to produce that rebellion. Meanwhile, other teams will carry out similar infiltrations across Yomi, hopefully resulting in a mass uprising and a state of impending civil war which will require all of Izanami's strength to quell."
"How do we ‘infiltrate' when we're accessorising with laundry baskets?" Jack asked. "Do we pretend to be a bathroom suite?"
Yukio sighed, patiently. "The komosu are ronin; ronin are Bushi who do not belong to the established ji-samurai and who are not in service to any particular Daimyo. Eat this."
Jack looked at the small, dark brown sphere, nervously. "What is it?"
"Chocolate-coated naquadah," Yukio replied. "It will pass undigested through your system in a few days; until then you will feel like a Jaffa to a Goa'uld's senses. Lord Richo will welcome any ronin as potential servants," she continued, "either as deniable mercenary agents or recruits to his own forces. You will be suspected of being spies, of course, but that is to the good."
Sam looked uncertain. "It is?"
"Definitely. No one will dare speak to you, so there is no risk of you revealing yourselves by a careless answer."
"It's nice to feel so trusted," Jack quipped.
"What do you mean, no one will speak to ‘you'?" Jonas asked, trying to head off further argument. "Won't you be disguised as a komuso?"
"One of us needs to do the talking," Yukio explained. "Komuso are highly spiritual; I will present you as a group who have taken a vow of silence for religious reasons and myself as your guide."
"And what will you be?" Jack demanded.
"I will be disguised as another desirable servant; a geisha."
Yukio endured her comrades' stares for a moment before explaining: "Geisha are entertainers; not prostitutes. I just want to be very clear on that point."
"Of course," Jack agreed, a little too quickly.
"Absolutely," Jonas added; clearly he had known that all along.
Yukio grinned. "Right. Last thing." She held up a long, wooden flute, two inches thick. "I don't suppose anyone plays the shakuhachi?"
Before the various teams of infiltrators left, Maru sought out Jack. She found him down by the river, practicing the shakuhachi.
"You are quite good at that," she noted. "Perhaps some can play while others can skip stones."
Jack looked up and smiled under the hat. "I played a little clarinet at high school," he explained. "I can't get the hang of any of your traditional tunes, though; I guess I'm going to have to go for a sort of improvisational jazz vibe."
"It sounds good," she assured him, sliding gracefully into his lap and intruding her head beneath the dome of his hat.
"Well, this is cosy," Jack said. "Maru; you've been through the wringer and I don't want to add to that, but..."
"I believe that we understand one another better than that," Maru whispered into his ear. "Good luck, Jack. You should warn my sister that I will be most unhappy if anything happens to you."
"What about you?"
"I have my own mission in this insanity," she replied. "I may disagree with this plan, but I am against the majority and so I will play my part as I am bid. Do not fear for me, Jack; I shall be careful."
Jack hugged her tight. "Good luck then, Maru," he said.
Maru sighed. "To all of us."
SG-1 Fan Fiction Fiction Catalogue Bushido