Summary: Pain and sorrow have marred the once hopeful staff of the SGC. With recent changes in the staff, people are questioning the security of their positions. The Tok'ra, faced with problems of their own, depend more on their allies than ever before. Fighting among the Goa'uld has them fearing it is something more. Caught in the middle, can the allies survive an all out war? _______________________________________________________
Drums continued to echo in the evening celebrating the end of a successful harvest. The graineries were full enough for three years, cotton was being stringed and readied to be spun for threads. Fruit was dried and stored in earthen wear jars, sealed with wax. Salt dippers that had been dried out after being filled, hung in store houses with animal pelts and dried meats.
Candles and oils were being made by the women along with precious herbs, spices, and incense. They closely watched their children during their tasks. By week's end, there would be enough of each to last for the year plus more. Each was nothing if not efficient.
It was in this world that Martouf felt at peace.
It was in this world that Sha're felt apart from it all. The loneliness of it all struck her harder with each once familiar action. She knew about things that no one in her opinion should ever have known. The demon that had inhabited her body had stolen everything from her. Even the peace she once found in the process of bathing was a night mare of memories.
This shamed her that even in the extreme heats she wore clothe enough to hide her body. She had been defiled by the demon, had almost bore it a son. That thought alone made her wish they had let her die in the crystal catacombs. To bare the child of a man not her husband was disgraceful and it tore at her until she felt little more than tattered strips in the desert wind.
Clutching her stomach, she balled her hand in a fist and slammed it down on the pile of cotton beside her. The women's chatter silenced. Ignoring their concerned faces, she picked up another bundle of cotton fibers and stripped it. The ends came out easily enough and she fed it in to the cord she was twisting on the drop spindle.
The repetitive motions forced her body to remember the long since learned actions of the weaving. Her fingers deftly seperated the threads, wrapping them in to a single string, using the dropper to tighten the line. Each finished line was strong enough to hold a Schad beast in place. Together, in a woven cloth it would be enough to withstand a sand storm.
This was the learning she had been taught by her mother. This was the lesson she would one day pass on to her daughters. This would never come to pass because every time she thought of being with a man, the face of her defiler as he forced himself upon her would fill her memory.
She dropped the weight stone.
Again silence filled the room.
Rubbing at her face, Sha're stood up from her work. There would be someone to take her place and the women could finish before the sun was completely gone. Day light was fast becoming a precious comodity as the cold bite of winter set over the desert planet. There would be no snow here, but the frost would come during the nights to those who were unwary.
Days still burned hot, but the freezing winds put an end to whatever peace people might have derived from it. Climbing out from behind the curtain and in to the evening air, Sha're blew on her hands to keep them warm. Already it was near freezing.
As she passed the well, she noticed the breaker had been tied on to the end of the well dipper. It would be used to drop down in the well and break the ice as it froze over the water inside. The narrow streets of the back homes and shops made it harder to transports the goods, but it kept the freezing winds to a minimum. Her people were continuing on like they had for thousands of years, years she could remember, cursed to her by the demon.
Shivering, she pulled her cloak of Schad fur tighter around her body. It would be another long night. Slowly, she made her way towards the men in their revelry camps. They were cooking the food since the women were weaving. Along with cooking the food, they were preparing the hides, and cleaning their tools and weapons.
Tonight would be the first of the harvest festival. Time for young women who were unmarried to pick a mate. Time for young men who were unmarried to accept. Her brother would be the right age this year.... if he wasn't still in the clutches of his own demon.
She forced herself not to think of it as she came to the edge of the camp. As always, she sensed the presence of the blue eyed stranger long before she saw him. After several weeks, she had grown accostumed to his presence. Despite the fact, it still unnerved her that she could feel him. It was much the same way with the Chappa'ai, she could feel it when she was close.
A part of her mind knew what it meant, but that was from the demon. That knowledge she tried whole heartedly to block and was, for the most part, successful. Closing her eyes, she focused on the presence. He was behind her. Turning quickly, she opened her eyes and saw him coming around the corner with several of her people.
Martouf carried with him the flail given to him by Hukamun, a fellow man who had come to Kasuf's tribe seeking refuge. The difference being Hukamun was a native Abydonean. His clothes were tattered from the work and would need great repairs if he were to wear them again. The back of his shirt was split clean to the waist from Lantash increasing his strength.
Stopping at the water jars, he caught his appearance in the jug and sighed. His slightly long hair was wavey from the winds. There was beard growth since he hadn't shaved in two days. Even his skin looked roughed from the harsh weather. Jolinar would have teased him for it, he was sure, for he was usually so meticulous.
Grabbing the water dipper, he pulled out enough to fill his bowl and dropped it back in the jar. He drank half the bowl before turning for the camp fires. Hukamun had promised to save him a seat at the fire. Thinking of Hukamun made him glance down at the tool. The fingers would have to be restrung and a few bars replaced. He had quite literally wore the thing out.
It wasn't until he had bumped in to her that he realized there was another presence. Despite being months without his brothers and sisters, the sense of another symbiot was second nature to him. He smiled at Sha're and held out his hand to stop her from toppling over. "Forgive me, I was not paying attention."
Sha're glanced down at the hand upon her waist. It was not unheard of for a man to touch a woman in such a familiar way when strangers. However, that was not what bothered her, or lack there of. The touch of anyman, including her father, for months had been repulsive. The stranger's hand only seemed to be just that, a hand. Staring up at his face again, she inclined her head. "Sha're."
"I know." Stepping back, Martouf inclined his head and stepped around her. After a half step, he paused. She had spoken to him. To him. Turning around, he faced her again. "My name is Martouf."
"You do not repulse me." At her own words, Sha're smiled. Taking his hand, she placed it on her arm. "This does not repulse me. You are only you."
"What else would I be?" Martouf's confusion was clearly spelled out in his expression.
"You are a man who does not repulse me," she said with clear meaning in her voice.
Enlightenment dawned on him and he promptly dropped the flail. "I can not."
"Give me what I ask and I will answer your questions." Grabbing his hand in her own, she dragged him reluctantly back towards the tents. "A trade, and you will know all you have been seeking." Despite the chill, she began removing the cloth from around her neck. As the curtain dropped behind him, Sha're felt fear for the first time. Pushing it aside like everything else, she undid the hem on her cloak and let it pool on the floor.
"Yes," Sam cried out in near extasy as the weapon in her hand fired exactly as hoped. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Shaking her head to fluff up the hair, she sat back from the hurdle. The test firing was the first time today that it had gone perfectly. Her modifications to the powercell, the focusing mechanism, even the trigger grip was all in perfect working order.
Looking down at the weapon, she smiled brilliantly. It was shaped like the hilt of a fancy sword, a grip in the center with two coils around the fist. The S shaped pommel curved from over the top of the fist to under the hand. On the other side, it was marked with six pyramid shapes in a long stripe going from top to bottom. All in all it was the size of a boxing glove and weighed less than a five pound barbell.
Sheer perfection in her opinion. If the next testing proved there was no damage to the super structure or the power relays after the heavy work out she had just put it through, she would sign off on it and hand in the patent for approval. Smiling at it, she kissed the pommel covering.
"Oh, geeze, Carter, would you two get a room?" Jack, smiling good naturedly, came up to stand beside her. Uncrossing his arms, he clapped her on the shoulder. "Looks like you really nailed the last ten targets."
"Jack, there are only ten targets." At his look, she snorted. "Very funny, sir. With the trigger design on this, you have to be deliberately thinking about it to fire in the multi-blast mode. See, there is a four finger grip on the handle, you have to hold down the top two and the pinky grip to fire rabid burst. Holding down all four will simply turn the weapon off to prevent someone from firing it accidently."
Jack examined the gun metal gray weapon and frowned. "Looks like it is missing something."
Smiling, she bent down to reach inside the case that was beside her. Rear out towards him, it occured to her the position she was in.
He couldn't resist. "Carter! I am your CO!"
"Oh, ha ha, sir." Grabbing the barrel out of the case, she pressed the long attachment over the row of pyramids. When it clicked, she let go and held it up for him to see. It was vaugely sword shaped that tapered in to a point after two feet. "Stand back, sir."
"Does this mean you were going to..." He jumped back when she held up the weapon and pulled the trigger. The small sonic boom was punctuated with the explosion of a target dummy a hundred yards away. Most of the dummy was vaporized on impact, much to his mouth drying surprise. "That's uh.... impressive, Carter."
"Thank you. But that's only level one." Clicking up the settings on the power pack, she turned it to full blast. "It is now at full power. I haven't tried this yet, but it should be a pretty spectacular explosion!"
Seeing the coils on the sides of the pommel light up, Jack covered his ears and dropped to the ground. "Oh shit!"
Grinning like a maniac Sam aimed at a large tank target and squeezed the trigger on the sword shaped weapon. The sudden boom threw her backwards ten feet. As she landed, dirt and debris came crashing down on top of her and Jack.
Gasping, she sat up, still smirking. She had to remove the soot covered safety goggles to see the damage she had wrought. Upon first glance, she was frozen in to shock. Slowly a smile spread across her face.
Ears still ringing, Jack sat up and poked at them to help clear them out. "Carter, what the hell was that?" When she didn't answer, he glanced back to stare her. "Carter?"
"Cool." Not being able to hear her own voice really should have worried her. But the sight of the big fucking crater in the middle of their shooting range just seemed more important at the moment.
Janet glared down at the clipboard the nurse had just handed her. She had been in the middle of giving Saroush another check up to see if there was anything she could do to ease the old woman's back pain. The crash this morning had pretty much put an end to her racing days. "Tell them I will be with them in a moment." Handing back the clipboard, she focused again on the Tok'ra. "Haven't I warned you about this? Are you happy? You will be stuck in this cast for three weeks, even with the symbiot's help."
Saroush sighed from frustration. Inside she could feel Sel'mac's amusement and shared it, but she still was upset about this. So it had been her idea to ignore the posted speed limit on the county road with her chair, what did that matter? It wasn't her that had jumped across the road like a Totnon Hare with a jackal on its tail. It didn't matter that the deer was little more than a grease stain, her chair had been completely destroyed!
Seeing that her patient was more focused on her loss than her own health, Janet growled in anger. Two more days until her vacation and she could get away from this mad house. Two more days, she told herself. Marshalling the fortitude to deal with what was in the next room, she patted Saroush on the hand. "Give the pain killer time to kick in, tell Sel'mac to stop fighting it and you will be blissed out quick as a light." Not waiting for a reply from the angry woman, she nodded to Dr. Smith. "Take care of her."
"Yes, sir." Smith smiled at Saroush checked her vitals. Behind him he could feel a constant gadfly that had been buzzing about the infirmary for the past two hours since Saroush had been brought in. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at the Lieutenant. "Mr. Simmons, don't you have work to do?"
Graham ducked his head and nodded. Moving for the door he collided with Janet. "Sorry, sir!"
"God damn it!" Catching herself on a passing nurse, Janet growled in anger. "Lieutenant, get out of my infirmary! If I catch you here again, I will make it so that you'll be here as a patient!" Turning on heel, Janet walked down across the room towards the exit and in to chaos.
Colonel O'Niell and Major Carter were laughing so hard they had to be held up by the orderlies behind them. As if they could sense her disapproval, both went stone silent and turned to face Janet. Jack was the first to speak. "We're deaf," he shouted.
"Can't hear a thing!" Carter tapped her ears, snapped her fingers in front of them and shook her head. Clutching her side again, she started to giggle. "But that was one hell of an explosion!"
Taking one look at their eyes and the symptoms, she grabbed the nearest orderly. "Get them sedated immeadietly! Set up a constant watch to wake them every hour on the hour. I want these damned two watched constantly and kept away from anything that could even possibly make an explosion!"
"Yes, sir." The orderly in charge of the group signaled for the pair to be seperated and taken to different rooms.
Giving them a tired glance, Janet headed for her office. This was something Doc Warner could handle. She was too close to the end of her shift to deal with them two. Some times she wondered if it was an infirmary or a damned daycare she ran around here. Scraped knees, broken arms, bug bites, and now a god damned pair of fools!
She kicked the door to her office open, breaking the handle, from her anger. The heel on her shoe was also a casualty of the anger fit that was suddenly pressing on her. She realized it was escalating due to her pregnancy hormones, but couldn't give a damn. Grabbing the books off her shelf, she threw them at the glass shelves across the room that held surgical equipment.
By the time someone knocked on her broken door, she was in the middle of a screaming fit. Her chair went flying at the door slamming it shut again. Grabbing the lamp off her desk she tossed it after the chair. Anything in reach went flying towards the door until it was blocked by a pile of broken and battered equipment.
After a pencil holder joined the stack, she collapsed to the floor and held her face. Her body began to shake from minute sobs. Glancing about the carnage in her office, she quickly escelated in to hysterics. There wasn't much more she could take from these hormones.
The door was shoved open with a large heave, tossing aside the build up she had thrown in front of it. Three orderlies and Major Ferretti rushed in to the room, tripping over each other as the door gave. They landed with a loud grunt on top of the smaller man. By the time they had gotten up, Ferretti was seeing black spots.
He shoved their hands off in order to crawl to the stressed out Janet. Upon reaching her, he enveloped her in a large hug and glared at the nurse attempting to get in. "It's okay, Janet, I am here."
Clutching him to her, she ignored his pained sound. "I want out, now. Get me the hell out of here now! Tell the General whatever you want, I don't care, I've had it."
"Welcome, my son." Kasuf made room by the fire for the Schad skin wrapped Martouf. Sighing past his grief, he smiled at the blue eyed young man who had become his newest child. His Sha're had welcomed him in to her bed and their family last night, it was up to him to make sure that the others accepted this now. Giving the Tok'ra a bowl of broth, he gestured for him to drink up. "You need your strength, today we bring in the Schad for grooming."
A part of Martouf felt like the world around him had shifted. He understood now the full ramifications of what he had done. Married to a woman he hardly knew who only wanted him for a child. The idea of it all made a sick sense. Blinking from the drouziness, he nodded at Kasuf.
Khetmer slapped Martouf on the back, laughing when the Tok'ra nearly fell over. "You are worn from the woman. She is long from the touches of a husband, may be she is too much for you." His words inspired laughter from the group of men. They had been up since the crack of dawn despite the cold. Having spent the night by the fires in their tents, many of them welcomed the change.
Kasuf's eyes narrowed in anger as he shook a hand at Khetmer. "Do not speak of her in such a way, Khetmer!"
"Forgive me, Uncle, I only jest. I have only the greatest respect for my cousin, your daughter. But you can not deny me the rights to tease my new cousin by marriage." Cackling when Kasuf only waved a hand in disgust, Khetmer slapped Martouf again. "You are slight, but we will make a man of you yet."
"I have been a man for far longer than you have been alive." Speaking into his broth, Martouf sipped the hot liquid carefully. He ignored the questioning gaze the others sent him. At Kasuf's grunt, he sighed and put down the bowl. "Among my people, longevity is considered normal. I have seen one hundred and fifteen floodings of the great river."
Gasps of astonisment and whistles rang out.
Kasuf weighed the information and nodded when he came to a conclusion. "You are not of the people, but of the gods."
Martouf shook his head. "We are not gods."
"But you are of those who took my Sha're and eventually her Daniel."
At Kasuf's words, Martouf's eyes flashed and his voice changed to the bass tones of the goa'uld. "I am not a Goa'uld. With every last breath I take I make it my goal to extinguish their light from the universe."
This made up his mind. Kasuf nodded at Martouf. Taking back the bowl, he refilled it before handing it to him once more. "We groom the Schad that we may make a search party to the great pyramid. Our scouts report there has been no movement sense the charriot of the sky landed."
"Most unusual. By now the goa'uld inside should have come seeking your mineral and loyalty." Martouf caught the uneasy glances between the men. He was not fooled by their act, they were waiting for him to declare his intentions. Probably, they had a man with a poison dart near by just in case. Glancing up at Kasuf, he met the man's eyes. "What of the markings on the vessel, is there any writing?"
"None. Where there should be has been stripped away as if exposed to a sand storm." There was hardly a time he did not feel his age, but planning these missions made Kasuf feel young again. The mere thought of battle again had his blood flowing. "Do you intend to come with us or stay with the women and children?"
"I will do as I am needed. If it is your will, I will go." Finishing off the broth, he handed back the bowl. "I have no interest in the weapons of the Goa'uld, they are my enemy."
"The weapons of your enemy are very powerful."
"But they also come with a price I am not willing to pay. Excuse me, honored father, but I must attend my wife."
A chill crept across his skin as Paul awoke. Shivering, he tried to curl up in to a ball, however, a pain in his abdomen made him cry out. He reached down to hold himself but a strong, glove wrapped hand held him back. Opening his eyes, he stared up at Garshaw in question.
Smiling at him, she rubbed a hand through his hair. "Do not try to move, Major, your injuries are still quite severe."
"Wha.... what hap...pened," he bit out with gasping cough.
Sighing, she pressed him back down on the blankets. "Try to relax, the pain will only increase during stress. The Primta has not had time to settle yet." When he only stared at her, she pushed his shoulder with a little more force than before to lay back. "The ship was fired upon, your console exploded and you were injured. Our operatives managed to get them back online, but by then we were long out of charted territory."
"Where?" He gasped again when he felt his gut tense.
"I said it is uncharted. This region of space has been beyond goa'uld territory for a long time, takes too long to reach this world by ship to make any permanent settlement viable." Twisting around, she reached in to a cloth bag and pulled out a bottle. Taking off the cap, she pressed it to his lips. "Drink slowly, you have been unconscious for quite some time and I do not think you can handle too much too soon."
After a few mouthfuls, he nodded he was finished. "Thanks. Where are we?"
"In relation to what," she said, deciding to humor him.
"The ship and the gate. So cold." As if to add credence to his words, he began to shiver again. This movement flared up the wound in his gut again and he cried out.
"Yes, I would imagine so. The ship was damaged in the crash, parts of the hull were exposed. We are in the cargo hold, the least damaged part." Glancing up at the ceiling, she gestured to the dim light fixture. Most of the cargobay was covered in frost giving an errie look in the light. "As for where we are in relation to the gate, four day's travel by foot. The planet is apparently experiencing an ice age and we are caught in the middle of it."
Something off to his side moving made Paul glance. The cloth swaddled figure was almost face to face with him and moving closer. Paul obliged the seeking person by leaning in to the arms. "Who?"
"That is who we were here to retrieve. His name is Aldwin, an operative we had under cover in the ranks of Nirrti. We have been unsuccessful in waking him, it seems he was drugged prior to our mission." She smiled as the duo settled in closer together for warmth. When Paul winced again, she reached in to the bag again beside her and pulled out a palm device.
"What's that for?" He was almost afraid to ask. Paul watched in sick fascination as it activated and a warm yellow light filtered over his stomach. The twitching in his gut slowed, then ceased. Smiling his thanks at her, he started to drift again.
When she thought Paul was asleep, Garshaw shoved down the blanket, unbuttoned the front of his shirt and pants, and pushed open the cloth. She traced her fingers around the brilliant red skin of his pouch and frowned. The tranformation had been quick, but the symbiot should have healed him by now of any infection. With a quick look at his face to make sure he was still asleep, she dipped her fingers in the pouch.
The Primta snapped at her fingers and she withdrew them quickly. Apparently it was just upset. Putting on the healing device, she activated it over the larva and began soothing it again. Without even realizing what she was doing, Garshaw began to hum softly to the larval goa'uld.
Paul watched her through slitted eyes. If it wasn't for the soothing effect of the palm device, he would have been screaming his head off.
High Councilor Perseus watched the data feeds their operative in orbit of Baal's border world of Tandare had recorded with apprehension. The normal weapons of a Ha'tak class mother ship had been replaced with multi-shot cannons. On top of that, more of them had been added to change this from a mother ship in to an orbital weapon's platform.
The recording started thirty seconds ago as the ship entered orbit, already the planet was completely devestated. Most of the atmosphere was blocked by dust and smoke from the burning ruins. One ship had turned a border world of thirty-five thousand to ash in a matter of seconds.
It took that time for the orbital mother ships to get in attack position. However, the gun ship turned weapons on them. The first was destroyed in a hail of weapons blasts that came so fast it blocked out view of the ship as it exploded. The remaining two attacked at the same time. The gun ship took a few blasts before it too reduced them to ash.
Much to his relief, as the ship opened a hyperspace window, the ship exploded from the sustained damage. So they weren't indestructable, just heavily armed. The holo image winked out after that leaving the council chamber in the normal ambient light. Perseus stared at the imager for a moment before turning his attention to the operative. "That was most disturbing. Do we know who was behind the attack?"
"That is the strange part, according to the designs, the ship belonged to Nirrti. As you know, three months ago her fleet commander declared open war on Cronus. Since then her forces have been waging a campaign of extermination against his people." Deimos, the operative that had recorded the attack, picked up the imager and replaced it with another one. Waving a hand over it, he activated the device. A system of stars in red, green and blue were clearly outlined against the galaxy. "The red is the territory controled by Cronus, or what used to be."
He pressed a crystal on his wrist device. The larger red territory was slowly swallowed by the Blue, its neighbor. "That has been the progress of Nirrti's forces over the last three months. As she has cleansed the galaxy of Cronus' influence, her forces have become spread extremely thin. Since she refuses to accept any vessel that surrenders, there is little support to continue her campaign."
Pressing another crystal, the green encrouched on the blue. "Two days ago Baal decided to take advantage of her weakened state." He pressed the final control and the Blue swallowed eighty percent of the green. "Two days later Baal is dead and his territory is in the hands of Nirrti's fleet commanders. What you saw was typical of her strategy. Since then, the surrounding system lords have all signed non agression pacts with her."
Whistling, Captain Reynolds raised a hand to get their attention. "On Earth, we call that a Blitz Krieg, a sudden attack without warning, the object of it being to do the most damage in the least amount of time."
"We are aware of such tactics. They are demoralizing and highly efficient among the goa'uld. Very rarely is this pattern of attack used in war between the System Lords, though." Perseus acknowledged the new Tau'ri ambassador with a nod. At Aaron's frown, he elaborated. "The goa'uld are prideful, they want their enemies to know they are being smited. This kind of attack is effective, yet your enemy can never know he was wrong to oppose you if he is dead."
"Ah, gotcha. Sorta a pissing game, I am better than you, so neah." He punctuated his words with a sour face and stuck out tongue. Laughing, he sat back in his chair and smiled at them. "Sorry, sir, I've dealt with people like that all my life. Got six older brothers."
"I understand, I was number six hundred, fourty-three of eight hundred ninety-six. We have perfected the art of sibling rivalry." Turning back to the situation at hand, no words came to him. The situation was worse than they had expected, yet better than they had hoped. The loss of Garshaw, the previous Ambassador, and several operatives on their final mission had hit them all hard. Since then their information net had fallen apart and all operatives recalled, taking with them whatever technology and ships they could aquire.
The war between the System Lords was still brewing, another sixteen worlds had been destroyed. Every time they had settled over the loss of one, another would fall. None as powerful as PTah, but several minor lords had disappeared. The entire System Lord Collective were gearing up for a war and yet no one had come forward to take credit.
Two of the most powerful among the System Lords had fallen in war, another twelve were ready to destroy each other for even the slightest infraction, and one was appearing to subvert her will over them all. The situation was more dire than any he had faced and all he could do was sit around and watch.
Slamming his fist down on the council table, Perseus' eyes glowed in anger. "We must do something about this. If we do not intervene, we could be swept along in the tidal forces of their war."
"I disagree." Aaron sat forward in his chair. Making sure to catch the eyes of the council, he gestured widely. "Look around you, your entire family is located here. Aside from a few hold outs on assignement and the scientists on Earth and our Colonies, you're all conveniently located right here. You let them goldies know you're right here, and you might as well wave a red flag in front of a bull's face. They'll either kill you because you are an enemy or because they think you are behind this. The behive's been kicked, you just gotta make sure them stingers ain't aimed at you."
"What do you suggest we do, hide?"
"That's it exactly. Use them fancy cloaking devices, hide your entire base and orbital sattelites, plus whatever ships you people managed to get your hands on. This ain't no time to be playing at being James Bond, the spy games are over. Wait until they kill each other and then stick your heads up again to see who survived." Taking a deep breath, he blew up on bangs that weren't there anymore. "In the mean while, pick up a hobby, take a vacation, hell, come to Earth and see the old Neighborhood. If you ain't seen it, you got memories of people who have."
Perseus glanced to his fellow Council members. The bitter thoughts of rebellion against the goa'uld were tempting, but he could see the common sense in the man's words. "Very well, we will take this under advisement."
"Good, now don't take too long to book yer vacations, I know just the right spot to...."
"..go yet, but it is my time." Saroush shuddered as she fought to contain her coughing fit. Each time it hurt worse and lasted longer. The last three times blood had come up. Her heart felt weaker with each beat and both host and symbiot knew it was only a matter of time before she was gone.
Taking control to spare Saroush as much pain as possible, Selmac blinked at Dr. Warner. "I wish to thank you. These past several months in your care I have come to understand your people, your culture much better than I had ever dreamed. The Tau'ri are a quite remarkable and your advancement has surprised me greatly. Though you have a great deal farther to go, what you lack in development you make up for in ingenuity."
Chuckling, Benjamin Warner patted her arm. "You sound like you are dying. It hasn't gotten that far yet. We still have time to beat this cold."
"Do not lie to me, Doctor, we three know I am dying." She forced the host's lungs to open and the aveaolie to suck in air from the lungs and filter it to the blood. Each time it grew harder for the fluid to be bypassed. In an effort to clear the lungs, Selmac deaded the pain receptors and forced Saroush's body to cough up the flem in to the provided bucket.
Just as Selmac was finishing, the door to the private room opened. "Okay, Saroush, I have that pizza just the way you like it, lotsa cheese and smothered in those nasty mushrooms. You be sure to let me know if Doc Warner comes in and...." Dragging the cart with him, Lieutenant Graham Simmons froze on the spot. He glanced over his shoulder raising a manicured black eyebrow. "Doc?"
"So you are the reason my patient has been having such bad indigestion!" Giving both the old Tok'ra and young Lieutenant a glower, he swatted the lieutenant on the head. "Don't let me ever catch you doing something this stupid again. If she wasn't.... Never again!"
Graham rubbed at his sore head and smiled at Warner. "Sorry Doc, she wanted it and I kinda owed her."
Warner continued to eye them warily before shaking his head. "I don't even want to know what you did to earn that. Hurry up and then get out." Not waiting for a responce, he took the charts with him and closed the door on his way out.
Smiling at Selmac, Graham grabbed a plate of pizza from the cart and set it on the food table next to Selmac. "Here it is." Grabbing his own, he set it on the table too. "In a way I am glad Doc Fraiser is out having a baby, she would have strung me up by the balls. As it is, Walter may do it for her, I am spending most of my time here instead of at my post next to him."
"You are serving your purpose by keeping me company. It isn't everyone who can claim they are best friends with a three hundred year old woman." Taking a bite of the pizza, she murmered in appreciation before grimacing. "That arrogant child may be a pain in the mik'ta, but he might be right about me and pizza. Good thing I do not give a damn what he thinks."
"Good thing." Munching on his own pizza, Graham shared a wink with Selmac.
Staring down at the planet beneath him, Daniel fingered the arms of the throne he sat upon. Aside from abmient lighting, the Pel'tac was dark. None of the controls were lit, even the throne was absent of display lighting. In orbit of Demaci, the last strong hold of Cronus, his victory was all but assured.
The reason he had yet to destroy the planet was not the fear of deadly force. He had fifteen mother ships here with another sixty-two at his call if he wanted. That wasn't including the thousands of Alkesh, Tel'tac, death gliders, and assorted long range tactical vessels. No, it wasn't the lack of fire power either.
It had all been too easy for his taste. Cronus was a System Lord, one of the most powerful since the death of Baal, the defeat of Apophis, and the utter destruction of Ra. To conquer one so feared as Cronus this easily was beyond comtemptable. His rage at the Titan lord only increased at how easily he fell instead of being slaked from the heat of battle.
"Pathetic." Growling, he sat up and moved towards the view port. The protective shielding that allowed him to see out, but keep the air in shimered. It was a hollow victory this day, no vastly superior enemy, no righteous cause, nothing to justify this battle but an empty greed.
It was no wonder the Goa'uld had become so cruel, they found no challenge in life. There were only so many ways to amuse oneself when one could do it all. It was plain boring.
Laying back in his chair, his loose silk pants hung off his legs, revealing more flesh than hiding. He admired the way the golden and silver jewelry that covered his body sparkled in the dim lights. The piercing in his nose and eye brow proved to be especially distracting at times.
It was tempting to just drug away his problems. To give in to that deadly addiction many of his people fell to in times of great stress and revelry was seductive. It made the world feel, opened the mind to sensations they took forgranted. It was very distracting.
It was weakness.
In a fit of rage, he jerked the hoop from his lip and tossed the bloody piece of metal across the room. Smashing the communications control with his fist, he licked away the blood. The sting was real, it was grounding. Made him feel something other than the rage and apathy. "Jaffa, Kree! Go to the planet, bring me Cronus alive. Kill the rest."
"Kree!"
He released the control with some satisfaction. Finally, it was too an end. Many of his Jaffa would probably die today, but he wasn't feeling a very benevolent god today. They could all rot in tartarus for all he cared.
Fingers twittering with the controls, he idly wondered if the Jaffa would be terribly upset if he turned off gravity. May be if he was a little more bored.
Why wait?
He hit the controls and waited for a responce. Grinning, Daniel folded his arms behind his head.
The warning lights of the SGC flashed announcing an incoming worm hole. A hollow sound echoed in the gateroom shortly before the gate shut down. The airmen who were standing at the ready to attack whoever it was eased their weapons down.
As the doors to the gate room opened, Jack and Sam came through. He glanced up at the control room as she walked up the ramp to the iris.
Running her scanner over the iris, she frowned. "Sir, it was the box we gave the people of Cimmera. I think we should send a probe through and see if they are in trouble."
"Is that necessary, Major?" Hammond sighed at her look. Pressing the microphone control button again, he knew he would regret this. "Isn't the Hammer supposed to protect them?"
"Sir, we destroyed the hammer. It is the beam at the gate's entrance. If the goa'uld were some how able to figure out the hammer isn't functioning, the people wouldn't stand a chance." Jack shared a look with Carter. "Sir, it's our fault, we should deal with it."
"It would be the perfect chance for Teal'c's teams to try out the weapons we've been working on, sir." She turned her attention back to the monitor before turning it off. Replacing the wand back in the control, she faced the control room. "I believe a malp should give us ample recon before we send a team through the gate."
"Meet me in the control room with Teal'c and his team leaders in fifteen minutes and we will discuss a possible mission." Giving them a final once over, he released the control and headed for his office. The necessary paperwork for authorizing a mission was already on his desk thanks to his assistant. Some days he wondered if he even ran this base at all.
Graham held Saroush as she flailed in her bed, holding her down so she didn't hurt herself during the seizure. He had to climb up on the bed and straddle her hips to hold her down. The alarm had gone off a few moments ago and he pressed the call button, but so far no one had showed up.
A particularly powerful spasm hit and Selmac felt her host arch up off the bed. As the muscles clenched even harder, Saroush slipped beyond her grasp and the body went slack. Panic filled the symbiot as she felt the body shutting down. Her vision started to grow dim.
All Selmac could make out was the worried face of her friend above her. Controling the host, she readied herself. "Come closer."
Having lost his grip on the dying woman, Graham slumped over her body. Sadness filled him at the limp flesh. Lowering his head to the pillow, he blinked back tears. The whispered words had him moving closer. "Saroush?"
"Kiss me." Selmac manipulated the body so that she would appear to be dying instead of dead. "Please, one last one."
Graham fought against the idea of revulsion and nodded. Leaning over to kiss her, he pressed his lips to the cooling ones of his dead friend.
'Thank you, my friend,' was all he heard before the world went silent.
Wincing, Paul eased himself up in a sitting position. There was little pain, but what was there was still enough to make him think twice about moving fast. Holding a hand over his stomach, he glanced about the room. He was alone in the room and he was grateful for that.
In the last three months they had been stuck on the planet, they had used crystals to establish a small base below ground. The ship had been the first thing they moved below ground with the help of the crystals so they could fix it. After that, about thirty rooms had been created including one with a large pool for exercising, upon his request of course. He was supposed to be in there now for his daily therapy.
He frowned. The others would be coming for him soon if he didn't get up on his own. He didn't like it when they came to get him, the symbiot inside him reacted violently to their presence. Aldwin was the only one that the symbiot reacted to favorably, not that he could understand why.
A sudden twinge in his gut made him bend over and gasp. After he leveled out his breathing, he focused on tightening his muscles about the symbiot so it would calm the fuck down. The next few moments were spent in pain as the symbiot refused to oblige him. He smacked his belly where the symbiot was coiled. "Cut it out, you little fucker!"
The symbiot surged through him and he felt it pierce something with it's teeth. Then just as suddenly, it calmed down and seemed to rest.
"About god damned time." Standing up again, he adjusted his shirt over the now evening out flesh. The goa'uld in his belly had been coild up and making his flesh bulge out. Now that it settled down, he wasn't in any more pain than usual. He couldn't wait until they reached the gate and could get the hell out of there.
For the past three months they had been tunneling out using variations of the original crystals to reach the gate. It was taking longer than expected because of the unstable crystal matrixes. In the past three months he had learned more about crystal farming than he had ever wanted to know. Like for instance that most of the crystals used in making Tok'Ra tunnels had to be harvested by hand very carefully or they broke.
At the current rate, it took a week to grow replacement crystals for the tunnels that collapsed or fizzled out before they reached the goal. They had been making an almost straight line for the gate, a few twists and turns there to avoid boulders and ground unstable for tunnel growing. One patch of unstable gravel and sand had cost them a week of work and another two to go around when it collapsed.
The not so little worm in his gut had saved him and Aldwin that day making him cramp up and the Tok'ra having to carry him out of the tunnel. Not three minutes after they were out, the entire structure collapsed. Never in his life had he been so grateful to a snake. Not that he had ever thought to be grateful to a snake.
A knock on his hall way signaled that someone was coming down the tunnel to see him. Without doors, he had had them make his tunnel longer because he prefered to keep his secrets just that. The foot steps echoed in the silence of his room and he knew who it was before he even glanced up. "Hello, Aldwin."
"Ambassador." Stepping in to the room, Aldwin smiled at Paul hesitently. Hands behind him, he stepped closer to examine Paul. "What is your status this morning?"
"The pain is tolerable, however the snake is restless." He ignored Aldwin's grimace at the word and adjusted his robe around his body. Another thing he didn't like was the way Aldwin kept trying to get a peek at his stomach. It was enough they had stuck this damn thing in him, couldn't they have just left him alone? "Is there some special reason you came here?"
Caught staring, Aldwin brightened a little around his cheeks. "Uh, not really. Garshaw said the ship should be able to get a clear signal through the gate when we reach it tomorrow. They'll decide what to do with it once we get home."
"I suppose you are just using that as an excuse to get here. Hoping that once you got in, you would be able to examine me." Not waiting for a responce, Paul began to untie his robe and lower his shorts so that the Tok'ra operative could get access to his stomach. Hands on hips and belly thrust out, he glared at Aldwin. "Is that what you wanted to see?"
Frowning, Aldwin came over and put a hand on Paul's stomach. Tracing the outlines of the pouch scars with his finger, he shook his head. "This shouldn't be."
"What?" Looking down to the hand that was now flat against his stomach, he glared. "Is there something about a scar you don't like? Well I'm sorry, if I had known your sister putting a goa'uld in my belly would have left me so damaged, I would have woken up and told her, 'no, let me die. I'd much rather be a pretty corpse'."
"That isn't it." Poking his fingers along the scar line, he tried to penetrait the pouch only to come in contact with more scar tissue instead. Aldwin used his fingers to search the entire cross shape of what had been a maturation pouch only finding it a cross shaped scar. "You've completely healed."
"Well, I wouldn't say completely. It is still a little red, but give it a few more months at this rate and it will be flesh tone." What had tried to come off as sarcastic at worse, witty at best, fell flat when Aldwin looked him in the eye. "I take it this isn't supposed to happen to all Jaffa?"
"No. A Jaffa pouch is with them their entire lives after it is created. Yours has healed and the primta within is trapped inside you." Aldwin's hand began to trace a circle over Paul's stomach. Stepping closer, he used his other hand to place it against the other man's forehead. "Does it bother you much?"
"No more than before, why?" This was beginning to make him feel extremely uncomfortable. On top of that, what was going through him was translating to the damned snake and it was beginning to shift again. "What are you doing?"
"Checking for infection. The symbiot should be treating you as a hostile to its enviroment." When his hand didn't seem to get the desired results, he pulled Paul's face to his lips so he could press them against his forehead. "You are no more warmer than usual. This shouldn't be."
Pulling back from the Tok'ra's embrace, Paul redid his robe and glared at Aldwin. "Well, now that you've copped a feel, oogled me, and kissed me, did you want to finish this date or can I go swimming?"
"This is not an appropriate time for humor."
"Sure it is, everything that happens to me is a sick joke."
Hammond glanced to Major Carter, noting her lack of responce to the video on the monitor and Gairwyn's cry for help. The malp had come through and immeadietly had been fired upon by a staff weapon. The world had been over run and now only a few of the Cimmerans were left free from the goa'uld's grasp. "Is there something the matter, Major?"
"No, sir." Glancing to him, she composed her face in to a calm facade. Raising her eyebrows, she took a deep breath. "I believe we should send in SG-4 as a recon team. There is nothing we can do for Gairwyn's people now except liberate those who remain alive."
"Is that all? I would think you above all others would be clamoring for a chance to go off world and save the day again." Seven months had healed her physically, and he thought emotionally. He knew things in her private life were strained recently, but nothing to explain the cool detachement unless... "Major, tell Colonel Redenbaugh to have his team ready. I want you to equip them with those new Phase Coils your team came up with."
"Aye, sir." She saluted smartly before making a beeline for the stairs.
Jack watched her go until the sight of her boots disappeared. Turning to Hammond, he raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"
"I have some calls to make." He dismissed his second's curiosity with a wave of the hand. As he passed Teal'c Hammond clapped him on the shoulder. "Teal'c get your men ready, we may need more than just a few teams."
"As you wish, General Hammond." Bowing his head, he glanced to the ten men and two women around him. He acknowledged their curious glances with a nod. "We will be ready."
"Good." Heading for his office, Hammond bi-passed two aids looking for his review and signature. He quickly shut and locked the door before reaching for the phone. It was a short matter to type in the number he knew by heart. When there was no responce, he hung up and dialed the next number on that short list. This time there was a responce. "This is Hammond. Yes. Yes. When? That soon? Okay, I will handle things on this end. Good bye."
Sitting back in his chair, George ran a hand over the lower half of his face. Tears pricked at his eyes. In a sudden fit of anger over the whole thing, he slammed his fist down on the arm rest of his chair. After he had cleared his head enough to start thinking practically, he reached in his desk and grabbed the proper forms. He quickly filled out the leave of absence forms and placed his stamp on them.
It was the least he could do for the daughter of his late friend.
The flap of the tent flew open, having been caught in the wind and jerked from the hand that had been opening it. The almost ice cold winds filled the inside of the hide tent and blew the flames of the campfire. Martouf quickly grabbed the tent flap as it flapped in the wind and jerked it back down behind him. He tied off the edge of the tent.
Glancing about him at the occupants, he smiled. "Greetings most honored father." Turning his attention to Sha're, he smiled again. "Good wife, how are you this morning?"
Sha're glanced up from her weaving and glared at Martouf. She had woken up in a foul mood and he seemed to be the source for now. "Good morning, Martouf. I am well as to be expected." At two months pregnant, she was far from okay. She had been heaving up every thing she had eatin for the past month.
Grimacing on the inside, he smiled at her. "The weather is to be fair today, perhaps you would care to walk later."
Her eyes warning him of further entreats, she nodded. "I would accept this."
Backing out, he nodded to the inhabitants and exited. He sealed the tent and left it quickly to go join the other men for a hunting party. Eight of the twelve men in the party had pregnant wives. The other four were related to the women. There was no need to explain why they were hunting in weather that would normally freeze the hair off a Schad's ass.
Chuckling, Kasuf watched his daughter tie a knot in her weaving and heave it at the bundle on the far side of his tent. "Your anger does no one any good, why do you hold on to it, daughter?"
"I cannot explain, father, there is a great need to make things painful." Growling, she picked up a leather rug she had been weaving and started untying the knots. Stopping, she held the rug in her lap as if it would run at the first chance it got. "This morning I feel uncomfortable. Martouf assures me this is normal. Normal for those who had the demon inside."
"You are free of the demon, how can it still effect you?" Coming to sit beside his daughter, her stroked her hair. It worried him that she might never be the loving Sha're she was.
"Part of it will always be a part of me." Seeing Kasuf's reaction, she patted his hand. "There are nights I dream she still controls my body. That I am prisoner in my own flesh. I wake up crying out, but it is okay, Martouf is there, he comforts me."
This eased a great burden in him and he seemed to cave in a little. Resting on her shoulder, he let out a deep breath. "It comforts me to know this."