Gatesong
Cambiare
To change; i.e., any change, such as to a new instrument.
Rachel Jackson must make a difficult decision in order to survive.
The medical isolation chamber was filled with equipment, each one adding its own noise to the background of hums, beeps, and buzzes. The few personnel in the chamber wore hazmat suits, their movements clumsy in the protective gear.
The woman lying on the bed in the center of the chamber groaned as her body was seized by another convulsion. When the spasm ceased, it left her shivering and panting.
"Rachel?" Daniel Jackson called softly, holding her hand through his glove. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his. "Hey. How you doing?"
"Daniel, it hurts," she moaned. "All over…oh, God."
Daniel twisted to look over at the petite figure checking the monitoring computers. "Janet, can we give her something for the pain?"
Janet Frasier, her worried expression mostly concealed behind her headgear, spread her hands helplessly. "I'm sorry, Daniel, but she's already on five cc's of morphine. I can't up her dose again."
Rachel's hand tightened on her twin brother's. "Daniel, are they sure this will work?" she asked, licking dry and cracking lips.
"Selmak thinks so," Daniel told her.
"If it doesn't, I'm going to die, aren't I?"
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, torn over whether to tell her the truth. Finally, he decided she deserved to know. "Yes, you will. The muscular deterioration will reach your heart in a matter of days."
She closed her eyes again, but not before two tears slid down her temples into her hair. "I'm scared," she whispered. She continued to tremble, as if cold.
"I know," Daniel replied miserably.
"Tell me about her again," she begged. "To keep my mind off the pain."
"Well, she's very smart, just like you," Daniel said. Her lips curled in a faint smile.
"All the Tok'ra are smart, Daniel."
"She's a pilot, a really good one. She's flown practically everything, but her favorite is the glider."
"Like Teal'c."
"Yeah, like Teal'c. She's also done some under-cover work, posing as a minor Goa'uld under Cronus. She likes music and Selmak says she has a wicked sense of humor."
"She sounds…nice," Rachel murmured, suddenly barely able to stay conscious. "I like her name. It means 'dancer.'"
"That's right," Daniel replied. Rachel's eyes slid shut. "Janet? She just passed out."
Janet hurried over, peering closely at the computer set up beside the bed. "BP's dropping, and her heart rate is becoming erratic," Janet said fretfully. "What is taking General Carter so long?"
"Committee meetings," said a new voice. Janet and Daniel both twisted awkwardly to look at the two suited men struggling under the weight of a large tank. The blast door slid shut behind them. "But we're here now. Let's set it over by the bed, Martouf."
Daniel quickly got out of their way, eyeing the tank and its contents that would save his sister's life. Suspended in the clear fluid, a snake-like creature about a foot-and-a-half long glided around in tight circles.
A wave of emotions assailed him. Seeing Sha're after her abduction, her eyes flashing: evidence of the parasite within her. The conversation with Sam in which she mentioned the engineer she had worked on the Stargate with. Meeting Rachel again after over twenty years, begging her to come back with him.
And last, but worst of all, catching her as she collapsed two weeks ago on M4M-790, trembling as if with fever. It was his fault she was dying now. If he hadn't talked her into re-joining the Stargate Program, she would never have gone off world and never caught this blasted disease.
Janet laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Daniel? Are you going to be all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, his instinctive gesture to adjust his glasses thwarted by his face shield. Jacob Carter and Martouf set the tank down gently, and Martouf lifted the lid, allowing Jacob to plunge his hand into the liquid. The symbiote went to his hand, and Jacob pulled it, dripping, into the air.
"Major Jackson?" Jacob asked, leaning over Rachel. "Can you hear me?" There was a faint murmur of acknowledgement. "Good. Now, Arrakis is going to enter through your mouth. It's going to feel strange, but it won't last long. Are you ready?"
Daniel strained to see his sister's reaction. Her long, dirty-blonde hair fell over her face as she nodded. Jacob shifted, blocking Daniel's view. He took an involuntary step forward, and found his way blocked by Martouf.
"The blending process takes a few minutes," said the symbiote, Lantesh. "We must wait and see what happens."
The minutes stretched out with agonizing slowness. Then Jacob stepped away. Rachel lay limp on the bed, her body still quivering faintly. She went abruptly still and the monitor flat-lined.
Daniel lunged forward, tearing free of Janet's grasp. "Rachel!" he cried, reaching down to cradle her face. "Come on, Rachel, don't do this to me."
The monitor beeped once, and then two different tones began to sound. Daniel's shoulders slumped in relief, and he heard Janet expel a pent-up breath.
Rachel's baby-blue eyes flew open, no longer unfocused from pain and lack of glasses. Her gaze locked with Daniel's and there was something…off. It came as no surprise, then, when she spoke.
"Daniel Jackson. Have no fear for your sister's life. The disease is in remission."
"Thank God," Daniel murmured, unable to stop the tear that slid down his cheek.
"What do you mean, 'remission'?" Janet asked, coming to stand at Daniel's side.
Rachel—no, Arrakis—turned her head to look at the doctor. "I have never seen an illness such as this before. Despite my abilities, I cannot fully heal her."
"Wait—what?" Daniel stammered, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut.
"What are you saying, Arrakis?" Selmak, Jacob's symbiote, demanded.
"If I leave Rachel, she will die. I can, however, give her a quality of life greater than she had before."
"You have to stay?" Daniel asked. This hadn't been part of their plan. Rachel was to host Arrakis for a few weeks, until the Tok'ra found another host.
Arrakis looked up at Daniel again and smiled. "I see this thought dismays you. Rest assured, Dr. Jackson, I would not suggest this without Rachel's approval. I have known her only moments, but I can already tell we will be good partners."
"Can—can I speak to her?"
Her chin dropped, and when she looked up again, it was his sister looking back at him. "Daniel…wow. It's-it's so overwhelming." She tried to smile and groan at the same time. "My head!"
"Don't worry, that's normal," Jacob said dryly. "How you feeling otherwise?"
"I don't hurt anymore," she said wonderingly, she held up her hands and stared at them. "They're not shaking."
Daniel touched her shoulder. "Rachel, I'm so sorry."
She gave him a puzzled look. "For what?"
"This is all my fault. If I hadn't—"
"No, Daniel," she said sharply. "It's not. Don't do that."
He shook his head, another tear making its way down his cheek. She pressed her fingers against his face shield.
"Daniel, it's going to be okay. This is my life now."
CrescendoProgressively growing louder.
Rachel, Daniel, and Jack have to rely on each other to find their way home.
She knew she wasn't alone the moment she regained consciousness. She could hear their light breathing, the faint rustle of their clothing as they moved.
"Let me guess," she said out loud. "Cell, weapons confiscated, guard at the door."
"Got it in one," Daniel said dryly. "Are you okay?"
"Getting there," Rachel Jackson replied, opening her eyes. "I feel like I grabbed an electric fence while standing in a bucket of water."
"Zats will do that to you," Jack said from across the cell. His arms were crossed over his chest and his hat was pulled down low. Daniel stared at her bemusedly.
"You've done that before?"
"Older foster brothers," Rachel replied cryptically. She let her twin brother help her into a sitting position. "At least we're all right."
"Relatively," Daniel clarified, rubbing his bruised shoulder thoughtfully. Rachel winced as she recalled the savage kick that had taken him down.
"So, now what?" she asked slowly, eyeing the Jaffa guard visible at the end of the corridor leading to their cell.
"You know, the indignity of it is, it's not like this is a big name player or anything," Jack ignored, or pretended to ignore, Rachel's question. "I mean, who's ever heard of Sobek, anyway?"
"Egyptian deity," Daniel answered promptly. "Crocodile god representing the strength of the pharaoh; often affiliated with Ra."
Jack pushed his hat back. "This guy's friends with Ra? That could be a problem."
"I can think of worse problems," Rachel said crisply, tilting her head. "We've got more Jaffa heading this way."
"Holy…buckets," Jack muttered as the Jaffa rounded the corner. "And I thought Serpent Guards looked ridiculous."
Rachel was inclined to agree. The whole crocodile-head helmets were a little over-the-top.
[All Goa'uld are over-the-top,] Arrakis said quietly from within. [That is part of their arrogance.]
{What do you know of Sobek?} Rachel asked quickly as one of the Jaffa opened their cell.
[Not much, I'm afraid,] her symbiote admitted. [He is a petty lord, with little standing among the more powerful System Lords. He once served Ra, as Daniel said.]
Rachel was dragged unceremoniously to her feet. {Well, I have a feeling we're about to find out more than we ever wanted to.}
[Indeed.] Arrakis, drawing from Rachel's memories, was able to do a flawless Teal'c imitation. It was the perfect thing to break up the tension of the moment.
"What are you smiling about?" Jack asked suspiciously as they were dragged down the corridor.
"I was wondering if we'd be able to send Sam and Teal'c a 'wish you were here' postcard," Rachel said lightly. Jack snorted. Rachel wasn't officially part of SG-1; she was just along for this mission since Sam was down with the flu (again) and Teal'c was helping Bra'tac with a Free Jaffa recruiting operation. So Rachel had volunteered to help them with this mission.
Bad idea.
*****
The prisoners were dragged into the throne room and cast down before the high seat. Sobek gazed down upon them from his lofty chair with disdain. The two males were dressed in strange, green garments and had carried unfamiliar weapons. The woman, now…she was Tok'ra.
She wore a sleeveless leather tunic and supple leather pants. A thin fillet of bronze held her short, shaggy hair from her face. She glared at the Jaffa who stood over her, then raised herself to her knees.
"Who are you?" Sobek demanded. "Why do you trespass on my domain?" None of them answered. The Tok'ra sent him a deadly look before turning solicitously to one of the men, wiping blood from his lip.
"Speak!" Sobek ordered, and gestured to his Jaffa. The guard struck the silver-haired man with his staff weapon, knocking him back to the ground.
"For cryin' out loud!" the man muttered, curling into a ball. "Jack! Colonel Jack O'Neill, for all the good that'll do you."
Sobek rose to his feet and descended to the floor of the hall. "You are Tok'ra," he said, pointing at the woman. She glared back.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she spat. Sobek chuckled at her defiance.
"I can sense the symbiote within you. You cannot hide from me."
She continued to glare at him mutely. Smiling evilly, Sobek lifted his hand, the one wearing his ribbon device. "Speak, or this one will suffer," he threatened, holding his hand out towards O'Neill.
"I am Arrakis of Shri'la," the Tok'ra said reluctantly. "What do you want, Sobek?"
"Ah, so you know me, do you?" Sobek gloated, lowering his hand. "Then you know I carry the power of Ra."
"Ra's dead, alligator boy," O'Neill yelled. "Or didn't you get the memo?"
"Silence!" Sobek threw O'Neill across the hall with his ribbon device.
"Jack!" the other two prisoners cried, both lunging forward. The Jaffa caught and held them, despite their wild struggles.
Sobek considered them for a long time. They were obviously deeply attached to each other. This could be useful in extracting information. He gestured, and a Jaffa retrieved the one called O'Neill. Sobek re-took his throne majestically.
"You will tell me everything you know," he warned them.
"And if we don't?" the younger of the men asked belligerently. Sobek smiled and pointed.
"Then you will pay the price."
The Jaffa leveled his staff weapon. The captives' eyes widened in horror as the weapon charged. The blast seared across the short distance, hurling the Tok'ra against the far wall. She crumpled to the ground and lay still.
"RACHEL!" the young man screamed, tearing free of his guard. He gathered her lifeless body in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Rachel, come on, wake up. Please, Rachel."
Sobek gloated evilly at the anguish in his voice. O'Neill stared mutely at his companion. Then he leveled his cold, black gaze at Sobek.
"You sick bastard," he said flatly. "I will kill you for this."
"We will see," Sobek said dismissively. "Return them to the cell." Once the two men were gone, the young one fighting and calling the Tok'ra's name as he went, Sobek walked over to the body.
Smoke curled from the burned hole in her stomach, the scent of coagulated blood mixing with the stench of charred flesh. Her eyes were open, an expression of pain and fear frozen on her face.
"Such is the fate of all those who stand against the Goa'uld," he intoned solemnly. He turned on his heel and swept out of the hall, leaving the corpse, blood still leaking from the wound.
*****
Daniel looked like the world had ended. Jack didn't blame him. As soon as they had been tossed back into the cell, Daniel had retreated to one corner and withdrawn in on himself. An empty hole had opened in the pit of Jack's stomach.
This was his fault. Rachel had been visiting Earth and he had asked her to come with them. If he had just taken a couple of Marines, Daniel might still have his sister.
"Jack," Daniel's voice cracked under the weight of his grief.
"Yes, Daniel?"
"We're not leaving without her."
"Of course not," Jack agreed. And we're not leaving that snake-ass alive, either, he promised himself. He picked up his hat from where it had fallen and twisted it in his hands. Jacob was going to kill him when he found out. The retired Air Force general-turned-Tok'ra had taken Rachel under his wing, playing surrogate father as she struggled to integrate herself into a totally alien culture.
Martouf wasn't going to be too happy, either. Arrakis had been one of Jolinar's closest friends, and with Jolinar gone, all Martouf had left of his mate were memories.
Not to mention Carter. Now he was going to have to live with his second-in-command blaming him for her friend's death.
"Crap," he muttered, his eyes smarting. He'd never admit it out loud, but he was never going to stop blaming himself for this.
*****
The first breath burned like fire, liquid pain flowing into the lungs and expanding outwards to envelope the whole body. It lasted for an eternity; it was over in a heartbeat. She sucked in the second breath, and she was alive.
Soft, white light surrounded her in a gentle glow, seeping under her eyelids to sting her eyes. She filled her lungs a third time and tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. Her limbs were leaden and still.
A line of harsher light appeared inches above her face and expanded. A faint breath of fresh air touched her cheeks. Finally, the gap grew large enough for her to sit up, gasping and shaking her head to clear it.
She was distantly aware of the Jaffa flanking the sarcophagus. She was equally distantly aware of her body ducking their grasp and launching itself backwards out of the sarcophagus.
{What are you doing?} she demanded.
[Getting us out of here,] Arrakis replied shortly. Rachel, still disoriented from being resurrected, decided to let her symbiote have her way for the moment. When she became fully conscious, the Jaffa guards were sprawled on the ground.
{Okaaay,} Rachel said slowly. {Now what?}
[Weapons,] Arrakis was already heading toward the door. She prowled silently down the halls, every sense alert for any sound of pursuit. Finally, she reached the throne room.
{Please tell me it's empty,} Rachel begged. Arrakis ignored her, slipping from column to column. There was no sign of any Jaffa. {Fancy that. A bit of luck for a change.} Arrakis stepped out into the open. Rachel cringed.
{Okay, I spoke too soon.}
Sobek smiled and lifted the ribbon device.
*****
It was incredible how quickly a life was snuffed out. He hadn't even been able to react before she was gone. Daniel ground the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. After over twenty years of searching, he had finally located his twin sister, only to watch her murdered in front of him.
He remembered vividly the day she had wandered away from the excavation and fallen into an old wadi. They couldn't have been more than six years old. He had known instantly that something was wrong, and he had found her hours later, her leg broken. Dad had taken him aside later and looked him in the eye.
"Always take care of your sister, Daniel," he had said. "She's going to need you."
Well, Dad, looks like I'm a total screw-up, after all, he thought acidly. "It was my fault," he said out loud. Jack threw his hat at him.
"Don't even say that!" he exclaimed. "There was no way you could have known this would go south. And don't give me that 'if I hadn't convinced her to joint the SGC' crap. Her choice, remember?" Jack glared at him for a long moment, and then held out his hand. "Give me my hat back."
Daniel tossed the hat back. "Do you think we're going to get out of here?" he asked. Jack snorted.
"Don't we always? Besides, Hammond will have sent a team out to look for us when our check-in was overdue. They'll figure out what happened to us. Eventually," Daniel heard him add under his breath.
*****
Arrakis threw herself to the ground, skidding across the slick floor. The pulse of energy lifted every hair on her body, but it missed her—barely. She scrambled to her feet just as Sobek adjusted his aim and fired again.
This time, Arrakis lunged forward, sliding feet-first into Sobek and knocking him down. Rachel's years of close combat training kicked in, quickly giving her the upper hand.
Sobek snarled in anger, his eyes flashing white, but Arrakis gave Rachel the strength she needed to keep him down.
"You cannot defeat me!" he screamed at her. "I am your god!"
"You know, every Goa'uld says that to me," Rachel hissed back, and drove her knee into his stomach. She slipped her arm around his neck in a sleeper hold and held on. He struggled wildly, clawing at her arms and drawing blood. She winced when his fist connected with her face, but she didn't let go.
Her heartbeat crashed loudly in her ears; she was sure someone would hear them and come to investigate. Sobek's struggles grew weaker and finally ceased. Rachel let go of him and he slithered to the ground. She stripped his ribbon device from him and slid it onto her own hand. The touch of the warm metal sickened her, but it was necessary.
{And now we're armed,} she told Arrakis.
She staggered a little as she got to her feet. Somewhere in the struggle she had banged her hip badly. The pain dulled almost immediately as Arrakis went to work. She turned to leave the throne room and had barely a second's warning before a mighty blow sent her flying across the room.
Sobek stalked toward her, seething with fury. "Pitiful Tok'ra," he spat. "You will pay for this with your death a thousand times over!"
Rachel rolled over and, without thinking, threw up her hand—the right one. Sobek was blasted off his feet and crumpled to the floor in a limp heap.
[I would advise leaving. Now.]
{Good idea, Kis,} Rachel agreed breathlessly.
*****
Daniel's head snapped up when the Jaffa guard shouted a challenge. Through the archway at the end of the hall, he saw the guard fly through the air and slam into the wall. "Jack!" he called excitedly. "Something's happening!"
"I'll say," the colonel muttered, getting to his feet.
Rachel stepped over the Jaffa's body and jogged down the corridor. Daniel gaped at her when she reached the bars.
"Rachel?" he gasped. "Why aren't you dead?"
She smiled tightly. "I was. And then I wasn't. Stand back." Jack and Daniel scrambled out of the way as she lifted her hand. The red stone on her palm glowed, and then a pulse of energy slammed into the bars, twisting and warping the metal. She aimed a strategic kick at the right place, and it swung open.
"We have to hurry," she told them. "I wasn't able to locate our weapons and I haven't exactly been quiet."
"Then let's get out of here," Jack said, heading for the archway. He stopped to retrieve the guard's staff weapon.
Rachel sprinted to get ahead of them, and Daniel hurried to keep up. Rachel seemed to know exactly where she was going, stopping only to collect a zat for Daniel. She skidded around a corridor and froze.
"Oh, crap," she said, her hand balling into a fist. Jack and Daniel took the hint and ducked out of sight.
"Why don't you just die already?" they heard Rachel ask.
"Gods do not die, Arrakis of Shri'la. But those who defy them do. Jaffa, kree!"
Rachel dove back around the corner and whirled around in time to fire the hand device at the first Jaffa. The second and third fell to Daniel and Jack.
"How many more?" Jack yelled.
"Two!" Rachel yelled back. Sure enough, two more Crocodile Guards rounded the corner, only to fall to their fire. Before Daniel knew what was happening, Rachel snatched the zat from his hands and bolted back into the main corridor.
"Sobek!" Arrakis bellowed, her voice so distorted it was difficult to understand. Daniel poked his head around in time to see the Goa'uld hesitate in the act of retreating down the hall.
Arrakis didn't miss. The blue line of electricity sizzled through Sobek, dropping him to the ground. Arrakis stalked a few paces closer and fired again. Sobek stopped twitching and lay still. Arrakis fired yet again, and the false god's body disintegrated, leaving not a trace.
She turned to face the two men. "I very much think it is time to leave," Arrakis said quietly.
Daniel walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. Let's go home." Together, they turned and made their way down the corridor.
Dolente
Sorrowfully, plaintively.
Sara pays Jack an unexpected visit and is surprised by his houseguest.
Her car rolled to a halt in front of his house. Sara chewed her lower lip and debated whether or not to get out of the vehicle. She glanced over at the box on the passenger seat. After all these years of separation, she still got his mail.
She knew he was home; his pick-up truck was in the driveway. Part of her wanted to drive on by and come back when he wasn't there. But she was in the area and she didn't know when she would be back next.
So she parked, grabbed the box, and headed toward the front door. She rang the bell once and stood waiting on the front step. When he answered…well, it wasn't what she expected.
His hair was entirely silver now, and there were lines around his dark eyes that hadn't been there before. He looked disheveled and in need of a shave; his face was haggard and tired.
"Sara," he greeted, sounding a little surprised.
"Hi, Jack," she replied, too worried to feel awkward. "Is everything okay?"
He stared at her silently for a moment, and then stepped aside. "Come in. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Water's good," she said, following him into the entryway. He nodded toward the living room, and she walked down the two steps to the lower level. She rounded the couch and froze.
A woman was curled up on the sofa, apparently fast asleep. She wore an Air Force t-shirt several sizes too big (obviously Jack's) and a pair of sweat pants. Her short, dirty-blonde hair stuck out in random directions, and her gaunt face was set in a pained expression.
Sara gaped at the woman for a long time, her mind frantically racing. She had been the one to file for the divorce, so why did she suddenly feel so betrayed? They weren't married anymore. What did it matter who he had at his house?
"Sara," Jack called softly. She looked up over the half-wall to see him holding up a glass of water. She quickly vacated the living room.
"Did you need something?" he asked as he handed her the glass. She put the box down on the table.
"No. It came in the mail for you. I thought I'd drop it off."
"Oh." He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. Sara noted the two beer bottles on the counter, both empty.
"Is something wrong, Jack?" she asked, trying to avoid glancing in the direction of the living room. He did, however, his gaze lingering on the back of the couch.
"No. Yes. I don't know." He sighed and rubbed his face.
"Who is she?" Sara kept her eyes on her beverage, not wanting to see his expression.
"A friend." His voice was firm. She looked up then to see his eyes harden ever so slightly.
"A friend," she repeated. Jack nodded once.
"A friend whose brother died yesterday."
"Oh," Sara said weakly.
"The doctors had to have her forcibly removed from the ICU and I said I'd keep an eye on her."
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. Jack blinked.
"Wait, you thought—? Sara, she's my best friend's sister. Totally off-limits." With an angry shake of his head, he turned away, getting another beer from the fridge.
"What happened?" Jack stared blankly at her, popping the lid off his beer. "To her brother?" Sara clarified.
"Car accident," he answered glibly, a little too much so. Sara crossed her arms.
"Is that the official cover story?" she demanded. Jack shot her a flat look and took a drink from his bottle.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice as flat as his gaze.
"You're mixed up in some crazy stuff, Jack. I know you can't tell me everything, but I was there when Charlie—that person—" she hauled in a deep breath. "One of these days you're going to get hurt, Jack."
CRACK! She jumped when he slammed the bottle down on the counter. His eyes had turned cold and black, but his fury didn't seem directed at her.
"I walked away. I let him go alone and this is what happened," he said in a dangerous voice. He didn't seem aware of her anymore. "All we've been through and all it took was one second of carelessness on my part. It was my fault and I couldn't save him."
Frightened, she reached out and touched his arm. "Jack, please tell me what's wrong," she begged. He focused on her face, snapping back into the present.
He sighed deeply and dropped his gaze to his hands. "It was an experimental weapons lab. They were experimenting with some new bomb and Daniel was curious. So they took him to look at it. I shouldn't have let him go."
Sara didn't say anything, afraid to interrupt lest he not finish.
"There was an accident," Jack's eyes were haunted and unseeing. "A radiation leak. The bomb was about to go off and all the scientists did was run. Daniel managed to disable the bomb in time…but it was too late for him."
He glanced again toward the living room. "We were able to get him to a hospital, but there wasn't anything we could do. Rachel had to sit by and watch as his body disintegrated while he was still alive."
"That's horrible," Sara breathed, pressing her fingertips to her mouth. "Is she going to be okay?"
"Physically, yeah. Otherwise..?" he trailed off. Then he visibly shook himself and picked up the box. "Thanks for dropping this by."
"No problem," Sara said quickly, repenting of her ungracious thoughts toward the sleeping woman. "I guess I should go now. Let you get some rest."
He didn't argue; he just nodded slightly. Sara turned to leave…and found her way blocked. Rachel looked as if she had risen from the dead, her face pale and her eyes colorless.
"Jack," she said in a voice devoid of life. "Give me the box."
Sara noted that he didn't even hesitate. He just handed it over. She took it in both hands and an unfocused look entered her eyes. Then she looked back at him.
"Call a security team."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Bomb?"
"Bomb," she confirmed.
"What?!" Sara exclaimed. "What do you mean, bomb?"
"How long have you had it?" Rachel demanded.
"Four days," Sara answered, feeling weak.
Rachel nodded decisively. "It's triggered to explode if it's opened. We should be safe."
Jack hung up the phone. "How'd you know, Chel?"
"I sensed it," she replied matter-of-factly.
"Naquadah?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Apparently the nonsense word meant something to them, because Jack suddenly looked concerned. "Explodes when we open it, right?"
Rachel shrugged. "Probably. Unstable, you know."
"Well, put it down, for cryin' out loud. A team is on its way. Let's get out of here."
Rachel carefully lowered it to the floor and stepped away. She turned around and headed for the door. Sara stared at the box, too stunned to move. Jack took her elbow and steered her out of the house.
"Siler and Carter will take care of it," Jack told Rachel as they crossed the street.
"Think we should evacuate the neighbors?" Rachel asked, her voice flat and dead.
"No need to worry them. If it hasn't gone off by now, it won't go off randomly." Jack glanced sidelong at Sara. "I hope," he added under his breath.
"Why me?" Sara whispered hoarsely. The other two looked at her quizzically. "Why send me the bomb?"
"Jack's made himself a lot of enemies," Rachel responded promptly. "They know he's smart enough to be suspicious of mysterious packages. But if one came from a friend—"
"Ex-wife," Sara corrected quietly. Rachel shot Jack a curious look. He shrugged.
"Well, then there'd be a greater likelihood that he'd open it. And if you opened it—" Rachel cut herself short, combing her hair down. "Well, hurting someone close to Jack wouldn't be a bad alternative."
"How can you be so cold?" Sara burst out. "We're dealing with lives here, and you-you're talking in strategies and outcomes!"
Rachel turned the full force of her blue gaze on Sara, and there was something ancient in her eyes. "There comes a time when you've seen so many people killed that you can't weep anymore. It only paralyzes you. At some point you just have to move on."
"And you'd know about this how? All the people you've seen die?" Sara heard the hysterical note in her voice and knew she should probably back down. After all, Rachel had just lost her brother.
The other woman's eyes turned ice-cold. "You have no idea what we've been through. You have no idea what we've suffered, all the loved ones we've lost."
Jack reached over and put his hand on Rachel's arm, but she shook him off. "When you have watched your people hunted nearly to extinction, seen generations of your children slaughtered at the hands of tyrants, then you may speak of loss. Not before!"
She turned on her heel and stalked away. Sara gaped after her, then at Jack. He shook his head grimly.
"Jack, what the hell was she talking about?"
"Sara, I'm sorry, but—"
"I know, I know," she interrupted, holding up her hands. "You can't tell me." She wrapped her arms around herself and stared blankly at the front door of his house. Jack seemed torn between the two women, wanting to comfort both and not knowing whom to choose.
"Is it worth it?" Sara asked in a small voice. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Whatever it is you do. Is it worth what we had?"
He watched her for a long time without speaking. Then he touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sara," he said quietly, then turned and walked towards Rachel.
She swallowed convulsively and pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling salty warmth against her palms. Two white vans pulled up in front of the house, and Jack went to meet them.
He hadn't answered, but it had been answer enough.
RequiemAny musical hymn, composition, or service for the dead
Rachel runs into trouble at a bank and meets someone in the process.
It was busy at Colorado Mutual Bank. Tom hurried back to his window and beckoned the next patron forward. The line stretched nearly back to the door, and the other tellers were just as harassed as he was.
He wasn't sure why he noticed her. She was standing halfway down the line, a Starbucks cup gripped with both hands, as if gathering warmth from the cardboard mug. She wore a black turtleneck, green cargo pants, and of all things black combat boots.
Her dirty-blonde hair was short and she was probably four inches shy of six feet. She was whipcord thin and taut as a spring. As she inched up the line, Tom noticed she wore no makeup; her eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed in dark circles.
She seemed to stare at nothing, absorbed in her own thoughts. The line moved forward, but she remained standing where she was. After a polite moment, the man behind her leaned forward and spoke quietly. She started and turned toward him.
*****
"Excuse me, ma'am, but the line's moving." The voice was deep and a little rough and had a pleasant drawl to it. Rachel started and spun around. The man the voice belonged to was tall, fit, with brown hair and cool gray eyes. He flashed her a smile.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, stepping backwards to close the gap between her and the person in front of her. "I guess my mind was elsewhere."
[Yes, with me,] Arrakis muttered darkly.
"That's okay," he answered easily. He looked down at the cup clutched in her hands. "Late night?"
Rachel nodded. "I just got back into the country."
"Business?"
"You could say that." At his curious look, she elaborated, "Air Force."
His face lit up. "Yeah? Me, too." He stuck out his hand. "Major Cameron Mitchell."
"Rachel Jackson," she replied, shaking his hand. He cocked an eyebrow.
"No rank?"
"Not anymore," she said with a faint smile. She wasn't sure why she was talking to him, but there was something about him that made it feel natural.
"So I guess that means you can't tell me what you were doing," he said, matching her smile.
"Nope."
[He is tolerably attractive,] Arrakis said grudgingly. Rachel, thankfully, had two years of experience keeping a straight face.
{You are incorrigible!} she told her symbiote. {Some men are attractive for more than their looks.}
[Daniel was handsome and smart,] Arrakis replied wistfully. Rachel fought against the sudden onslaught of tears. Dealing with the emotions of two beings wasn't something she had gotten used to.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Jackson. Was it something I said?" Mitchell asked, digging in his pocket.
Rachel quickly wiped the tears away. "No. No, it wasn't you. I—I'm just dealing with some things right now," she took a deep breath and accepted the proffered handkerchief. "Thank you."
"No problem," he said easily. "I think it's your turn," he went on gently, nodding toward the window. Rachel turned around and stepped up to the marble counter.
"Hello, ma'am, what can I do for you today?" the teller asked brightly.
[Raise people from the dead,] Arrakis snapped.
"I need to re-activate my account," Rachel said, ignoring her symbiote. "I've been out of the country for a while, and my brother was put in charge of my assets."
"All right, ma'am. Our manager will be with you shortly."
Rachel stepped to the side to allow Mitchell to be waited on. The doors burst open and four men wearing trench coats and sunglasses ran through, waving guns.
*****
Jackson reacted even faster than Cameron did. She grabbed his arm and yanked him down, shoving him behind the courtesy desk. He ducked into cover, instinctively reaching for the sidearm that wasn't there.
She hadn't stopped moving. Her next target was the little girl and her mother that had been behind Cam. Jackson scooped the girl up and dove behind the desk next to Cameron, the girl's mother close behind.
"Now what do we do?" Jackson muttered. She seemed to be talking to herself rather than Cameron, but he answered anyway.
"Call the police?" he suggested.
"Everybody stand up!" one of the burglars yelled. "Cell phones, wallets, and purses out in the open."
There was a spatter of gunfire and a few screams. Cameron pressed his lips into a grim line. Jackson, pushed shoulder-to-shoulder with him, reached into her pocket and pulled out a pager with only one button. She pressed it and held until a red light appeared.
"What's that?" he asked in a low voice.
"Panic alarm," she replied.
"Who's on the other end?"
"U.S. Air Force." Then she slowly stood up and walked around the desk. The hostages were herded to one end of the bank, where two of the robbers covered them. Cameron eyed them balefully.
"There's nothing you can do," Jackson said. He looked down at her. "If you try to take them out, innocent people will get hurt."
Cameron forced himself to relax. "Yeah, you're right." He looked around at the other hostages. "Nobody panic," he called softly. "We're all going to be fine, ya hear?"
The little girl whimpered and cowered against her mother, who seemed catatonic with fear. Cameron reached over and patted the girl's back awkwardly. "It's gonna be okay," he told her.
That's when Cameron heard the scream of sirens as the parking lot filled with flashing lights.
*****
Rachel swore under her breath. The police were only going to make the burglars tense and heighten the whole hostage situation. Not to mention make things complicated when the security team arrived. It would take them twenty minutes to get here from the Mountain once she activated the distress beacon.
"Not good. This is not good," she muttered.
[Should we do something?]
{What, and get shot?}
[That wouldn't slow us down much.]
{No, but others would wonder.}
The four bank robbers were in a huddle, furiously discussing the new turn of events. A loudspeaker from outside interrupted the argument.
"Come out with your hands in the air. We have the building surrounded. You can't escape."
Rachel put her head on her knees. This had gone from a possibly quickly over situation to a tense standoff. "They just have to ruin everything," she muttered.
"I'm sure they know what they're doing," Mitchell said dryly. Rachel looked up at him. He wasn't looking back at her, but rather around the lobby, assessing and planning.
The little girl was getting more scared. Rachel stroked her curly hair. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Annie," she replied, despite the tears chasing each other down her cheeks.
"Well, you don't have to be scared, Annie. Do you know why?" Rachel crouched down so she was on eye-level with her. Annie shook her head. "Because I'm here to take care of you, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Sure enough, the thieves decided to hold out, keeping the hostages to ensure their safety. After an hour of shouted arguments between the thieves and the police, Rachel tuned their voices out and leaned her head back against the wall.
"So, you want to tell me what's wrong?"
She opened her eyes and stared at Mitchell. "What?"
He shrugged. "It'd pass the time."
Rachel continued to stare at him for a few beats, trying to gauge his intentions. He seemed earnest, genuinely concerned for her. "My brother died last week," she said flatly.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "How?"
"Radiation."
"What?" Mitchell demanded, startled.
"He was at a weapons testing site. There was an accident, and the bastards just cut and ran, and the bomb was set to go off. He de-activated it in time, but the radiation exposure—" Rachel gritted her teeth against the tears. "It took him four days to die."
Mitchell put his hand on her shoulder and said nothing, but Rachel didn't calm down. With Daniel gone and things heating up again with Anubis, Rachel was bottling anger with no outlet and Arrakis wasn't helping. She put her head between her knees, trying to regain some composure.
Beside her, Annie began to cry. Her mother tried to calm her down, but nothing seemed to help. One of the robbers broke off their discussion with the negotiator and came over towards them.
"Shut her up!" he yelled, waving his pistol. Rachel slid her arm around Annie's shoulders and glared at him.
"She's scared, you can't expect her to be calm," she snapped back. The robber, who Rachel had labeled "First," pointed his gun right at Annie.
"You shut her up, or I will," he threatened.
The transition happened so fast Rachel couldn't stop it. "You will not touch her," Arrakis said flatly in Rachel's voice.
"Yeah? Well someone forgot who's holding the gun," First taunted. Arrakis got to her feet, her gaze never leaving First. He faltered for a moment, but his bravado was not easily shaken.
"Back off," he ordered. Arrakis took a step forward, and Mitchell grabbed her wrist.
"Don't do anything stupid, remember?" he hissed. Arrakis shook him off.
"Take care of the others," she told him.
"What are you going to do?"
"Finish this," she said, and lunged. Two gunshots rang out before Arrakis was on First. She sliced her hand into his wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon, and smashed the other hand into his chin, snapping his head back.
People were yelling at her, but Arrakis was so deep into her fury there was no stopping her. The second burglar was a little more prepared, but he was no match for Arrakis. She caught his gun hand before he was able to bring it to bear and twisted until she heard the pop of dislocating bones. He screamed and released the gun.
Arrakis caught it and pushed him, sending him flying across the lobby. She spun around, tracking the remaining two. They had taken cover behind the tellers' counter. One of them squeezed off a shot at her. There was no time to move; Arrakis noted the damage done to the left shoulder and shut off the pain.
She raised the pistol calmly toward the burglars.
{Arrakis, no!} Rachel yelled, horrified. The Tok'ra ignored her. One shot, one kill. The last burglar ducked back out of sight. Arrakis ran forward and leapt over the counter, landing beside the criminal. He cried out and scrambled backwards, his gun shaking. She kicked it out of his hand and sighted down the pistol at him.
Rachel threw herself at Arrakis with all her might. {This is not an enemy, Arrakis!} she screamed. {He doesn't deserve to die!}
The pistol hovered for an agonizing moment in which Rachel dared not breathe. Finally it dropped. Then it swung up and down, connecting with the robber's temple. He collapsed to the floor.
Arrakis stood over his body for a long time. [I am sorry, Rachel. I should not have taken control without your permission.]
{What's done is done. I'm not mad at you.}
Silently acknowledging her, Arrakis withdrew, allowing Rachel to become foremost. "Is everyone all right?" she called.
"He's been shot!" Annie's mother cried, panicked. Rachel vaulted over the counter. Mitchell was sprawled on his back, a stain growing over the front of his shirt.
*****
Cameron pressed his hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He couldn't apply sufficient pressure, and warmth continued to slide through his fingers.
"Aw, crap." He really, really hated being shot. Jackson's face appeared over him.
"Mitchell? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah," he forced out. It kinda hurt to talk. And breathe. Hell, it hurt just lying there.
"What happened?"
"Bullets were flying. Couldn't let Annie get hit," he wheezed. "Needs pressure."
"I know." Jackson looked up, and then pointed. "You, give me your sweater." She bundled the material up and pressed it to the wound. A haze was starting to mist his eyesight—not a good sign.
"Someone get the paramedics in here!" Jackson called. Cameron could hear running feet, shouted orders, and squawking radios. She looked back down at him. "Don't worry, Mitchell, you're going to be fine."
He focused on the hole in her shirt. "You've been shot," he said stupidly. She shook her head.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." Three paramedics in white scrubs pushed her unceremoniously aside, but she quickly returned. "Told you you're going to be okay. Don't try to move."
"Jackson?" She froze halfway to her feet.
"Yes, Mitchell?"
"Maybe we could do coffee sometime?"
She smiled. "I'd like that."
They got him on the gurney and started wheeling him to the door. He shifted his head so he could see her standing in the middle of the lobby, a bloodstained sweater in her hands. She waved slightly, and then the haze turned to darkness and crashed down on him.
*****
"Whatever is in that syringe, you can give me more anytime," Cameron told the nurse as she injected the painkiller into his IV. She blushed and fussed with his blanket before hurrying out. He let his head drop back onto his pillow.
He had woken up a short while ago and found out that he had been unconscious for thirty hours. His parents were on their way; they would arrive that evening.
Right now, he was just happy he didn't hurt anymore.
There was a faint knock on the doorframe. He lifted his head. Jackson stood there, smiling nervously.
"Hi. The nurse said you were awake."
"Hey! Yeah, come on in."
Her smile grew warmer and she grabbed the rolling chair in the corner. This time, she was dressed in a silky, gray top and fitted jeans. "How are you feeling?"
"Great, actually. The nurse just gave me something and I'm on top of the world."
"Good. That's good. I, uh—just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I mean, it's kind of my fault you got shot."
Cameron frowned. "No. No, it's not. But the police told me you took out all four burglars single-handedly. Nice going."
She looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah, not so much." After a moment, she met his gaze again. "I killed one of the robbers. Shot him."
"That bothers you," he guessed. Her mouth thinned.
"He didn't deserve to die," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have killed him." Her eyes were baby blue, but they were haunted and too old for her face. Then again, she did look like she had been through tough times. Her face was gaunt, with harsh lines he hadn't noticed before.
"You saved lives, Jackson," he told her. "Remember that."
"Yeah." She stared out the window for a few minutes. Then she blinked and smiled again. "I probably should let you get some rest. Getting shot can take a lot out of you."
"Speaking of which," Cameron squinted at her. "I distinctly remember you having a hole in your shoulder."
"Ah, no. No, I'm fine," she said quickly. "Nothing's wrong with me. Listen, if you ever want to get a hold of me to talk, or make good that offer of coffee, you can reach me at this number, okay?" She handed him a plain white business card with a single number.
He took it. "Okay," he said slowly. She got to her feet.
"See you around, Mitchell."
"Jackson?"
She stopped in the doorway and turned around. "Yes?"
"You're never going to tell me who you really are, are you?"
She gazed at him for a long time. "No, I won't. I can't." With that, she disappeared down the hallway.