TITLE: Spearhead: Evolution
AUTHOR: Andrew Seivewright
EMAIL: a.seivewright@btinternet.com
CATEGORY: action/adventure, future
SPOILERS:
SEASON / SEQUEL: Spearhead Trilogy
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: PG-13
SUMMARY: General O'Neill goes into the field with SG-Alpha on a diplomatic mission that escalates into a fight for their lives...
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So much for plans. This should have been finished ages ago but alas, real world events kept me immensely busy. I will try much harder to be more 'prompt' with the next episodes. For those who may be interested, I have made a website (y'all will need Flash) based on my Spearhead concept, http://www.geocities.com/dark_sider/Spearhead.htm. It contains information on the people and technologies involved as well as allowing you to download the stories themselves. Comments and suggestions would be welcomed.



Spearhead: Evolution


Cast

Earth

General Stuart Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, US Army
Lieutenant General Hammond CO of the SGC, US Air Force
Group Captain Eric Dunsfield CO of 5 Squadron, Royal Air Force
Wing Commander Paul Mallory 5 Squadron, Royal Air Force
Flight Lieutenant Tony Wilkins 5 Squadron, Royal Air Force

Spearhead

Brigadier General O'Neill CO of Spearhead
Colonel Carter 2IC

Colonel Mike Colwell CO of SG-Delta
Major Julio Ortiz 2IC


Goa'uld

Bast Supreme System Lord of the Goa'uld
Hek'at First Prime

The Family

Shiv Leader
Karl 2IC





Chapter 1
Soldiers and Diplomats




16:05 ZULU
26/04/2003


"You mean I get to do something for a change, instead of sitting around here on my ass all day long?"

Colonel Carter hid a smile and Major Franklin expended serious effort in an attempt not to laugh outright at General O'Neill's almost hopeful question.

Major Franklin of SG-9 (Diplomatic), simply nodded instead. "The Denolian Council has agreed to the Trade and Defense Treaty and as per the agreement, SG-Delta will be dispatched to P29-38D in order to deal with their Raider problem." Franklin snorted softly. "Personally, I don't think these Raiders are your average bunch of mad dogs and cutthroats for they don't hurt anybody at all during their attacks, the Denolian's seem more upset about the impropriety of being raided more than anything else. They requested that you, our leader more specifically, deal with the problem."

O'Neill leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. "Not that I'm complaining but why do they need me there?"

"They are a fairly advanced civilization, under-populated by our standards but technologically on a par with us, their culture is very pacifistic and not equipped mentally or technically to defend themselves against these Raiders. They were not, however, always like that. Apparently, hundreds of years ago, they were considerably warlike and their chieftains had the tradition of leading from the front."

Franklin looked wryly at O'Neill. "Our politicians could learn a lot from that, I suppose. The Denolians no longer equipped, mentally or physically, for a fight but their Council members are always working hard with the civilians in the field. That means that, although not specifically expressed, you're expected to go out with SG-Delta and deal with the Raiders yourself."

"Hallelujah!" O'Neill replied.

"General's aren't supposed to go out and get shot at anymore, it's against the regs." Carter said with a smirk.

O'Neill flashed her a 'you-are-sucking-the-fun-outta-this' glare and returned his attention to the Major. "Okay Franklin, if I remember right, the reports said that the mission to P29-38D is in three days. Inform whomever you need to that I will be there, with SG-Delta. Dismissed."

Major Franklin rose from his chair, nodded to Colonel Carter and walked out of the General's office. After Franklin had left, Carter put down the handheld PDA she had been reading and studied O'Neill.

"It's not really been that bad, has it, sir?" She asked.

O'Neill looked at her quizzically. "You mean sitting behind a desk and reading endless reports and having to write more reports to pass on the bosses back home? It's not quite as bad as I make it out to be I suppose but I do miss the front line action."

Carter nodded. "This should be the perfect tonic for you then."

Snorting O'Neill rose from his desk. "Yeahsureyabetcha." He replied wryly as he crooked his finger in a gesture for her to follow as he walked out of his office and into the main corridor of the Spearhead Command Building. "This Raider things sounds like a simple mission with a low probability of becoming a bloodbath. It should be fun."

Carter nodded with understanding. "Where are we heading, sir?" She asked, as they began walking down the corridor.

"To the Mess. I'm kinda hungry and I thought I'd buy you dinner."

"The food's free, sir." She replied with a grin.

O'Neill shrugged. "Okay, you can buy your own dinner then."

Carter suppressed a snort and glanced at her PDA. "I've got the latest on the 'Paveway' project by the way." She reported.

"How's it going? I heard they blew the crap out of some melons on P53-something or other."

The 'Paveway' project was a spin-off of the automated sentry guns that were successfully used during the defense of Spearhead less than a year ago and the missile attack system the SGC instituted several years back. After sending a UAV through a wormhole, the SGC could then activate a missile launcher that would lower itself in front of the Stargate and fire its missiles into the event horizon, sending them through the wormhole and out the other side, destroying anything the UAV had targeted.

The idea behind 'Paveway' was essentially the same but on a smaller scale that integrated the automated sentry guns positioned on either side of the Stargate so that they could fire into an active wormhole and hit individual Jaffa guarding the other side, 'paving the way' for the SG-Assault teams to transit unopposed. All one need was a UAV or a single soldier on the ground to send imagery back through the wormhole so that the 'Paveway' system could designate targets.

"It's finished and ready for use by all accounts. They've tested everything and it works. I want to transmit the specs to the SGC so they can build their own system."

"Approved." O'Neill replied and he nodded absently to several SG-Alpha troops walking past them in the corridor.

"Not only that but you know that the first prototype fighter at Area 51 is ready for trials this morning, don't you." Carter added.

"That was fast." O'Neill replied with a grin. "Almost too fast for government work."

"Yeah, well the government finally figured out we're in a war with damned high stakes and it seems they're pulling out all the stops to ensure we might actually win. I've been working with Area-51 and the British on the propulsion and weapons systems since they're mainly Goa'uld technology but a lot of the prototype fighter is built from off-the-shelf components. It was one of the requirements of the design since we need to build a lot of these things and fast. There's a lot of talent working on it and from what I've seen, it'll fly like a dream."


* * * * * * * * * * * * *


"This bleeding thing will never get off the ground!!"

Wing Commander Paul Mallory shook his head in amusement as his best friend and co-pilot Flight Lieutenant Tony Wilkins sat in the cockpit of the YF-401 'Sabre' prototype.

Mallory ignored his friend's complaining as he studied the Sabre. It was about the size of a F-16 Falcon making it quite small for any fighter but the similarities ended there. The airframe was a smooth, almost 'organic', delta-wing airfoil with two huge fusion drive engines mounted behind the cockpit and two fins rising up from each engine connected at the top by a 'spoiler'. Embedded in the fuselage, on either side of the cockpit, were Goa'uld-type energy cannons and the first production version of the US Army's electromagnetic accelerator 'Rail guns'. These guns fired small tungsten rounds at near hypersonic velocities. The tungsten bullets carried no explosive warhead but they didn't need one when impacting against an object at over 30 times the speed of sound. The Sabre carried no missiles but there were 'space-to-space' missiles being developed and wouldn't be ready for another month at least. Word on the grapevine was that the missiles were being designed not for the Sabre but for the rumored and often talked about follow-on 'Pegasus' bomber and 'Orca' troop transport.

Mallory almost felt the need to rub his hands in anticipation of all the new hardware coming off the boards when he was interrupted as his partner's tirade suddenly raised several decibels in volume.

"The anti-grav units are not only underpowered but they're bloody unstable as well. We should have gone with the quad layout instead of this one up, two back configuration."

"The geeks say the anti-grav units we've produced can't handle as much power as the Goa'uld originals. They're missing something in the design. And the one up, two back configurations seem to work well enough in the past. We've only got so much space to work with, Wilkins." Mallory replied.

Wilkins turned to look at his superior and made a face of disgust. "Well, when the front AG unit fails on my approach and landing, don't blame me when this thing plows into the runway at a hundred knots."

Mallory laughed. "That's why you're the test pilot and I'll be safe inside the control tower."

"Its too late for seconds thoughts, gentlemen."

Mallory spun round to see who had silently moved up behind them and stiffened to attention as he saw the four stars of a full General.

General Stuart of the Joint Chiefs Of Staff raised his hands in a placating gesture. "At ease, Wing Commander. I just wanted to see how our pilot was doing before he risks his neck in a highly experimental aircraft of reversed engineered alien technology, built by the lowest bidder."

Inside the cockpit, Flt Lt Wilkins let out a strangled moan.

Mallory couldn't help but laugh. "He'll do alright, sir.

General Stuart agreed. They might joke about being worried but these pilots were professionals and they knew their stuff. "The test profile only calls for a circuit of the base at low altitude and low speed, barely a run around the block. It's not like he's flying to Saturn or anything." He added, referring to the ill-fated X-301 prototype test flight Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c almost died on.

Their grins almost breaking their faces in half, a constant 'thud-thud-thud' came from the cockpit of the YF-401 and Stuart and Mallory turned to see Wilkins banging his head against the canopy.

A thickly built crew chief walked up to the General and casually saluted. "General, Wing Commander. It's time. We need to move Flt Lt Wilkins and the -401 to the runway apron."

"All right, Sergeant." Stuart replied. He turned to the cockpit and gave a quick salute. "Pleasant skies, Wilkins."

Mallory also sketched a salute and leaned forward with a stage whisper. "You break it, you pay for it."

Wilkins shook his head. "I'm right lucky to have such a kind and caring boss, sir. What would I do without you, sir? You'll let my mum know her son died bravely, won't you sir?"

Mallory grinned as the crew chief hooked a tow-bar from small yellow tractor to the front wheel of the undercarriage that supported the prototype while its anti-grav units were offline. The tractor revved up and in a plume of diesel smoke, pulled the YF-401 out through the hanger doors and into the bright sunshine of a typical Nevada afternoon at Area-51.

Several minutes later, the Sabre prototype was left standing alone on the apron as inside the cockpit, Wilkins was conferring with the controllers on the radio as he worked his way through the pre-flight checklists.

"Reactors?" The anonymous voice that was Control, asked.

"In the green." Wilkins replied.

"Computer?"

Wilkins had already pressed the button to run a quick self-diagnostic. "On-line."

"RCS thrusters?"

Gently moving the joystick controller in all directions, quick bursts of exhaust fired from each of the 'reaction control system' thrusters located on the nose wings and tail. These thrusters were smaller versions of the system utilized on the Space Shuttle. "RCS is functional." He acknowledged.

After a pause of several seconds, Control spoke once more, his voice unable to hide the excitement everyone was beginning to feel. "Okay, -401, you are clear to engage the AG units..."

Wilkins shifted in his seat slightly to get himself set and pressed several buttons on the wide multifunction display in front of him. An almost subliminal whine built up around him as the anti-gravity units powered up. With one hand on the joystick controller, Wilkins placed his other hand on the wide grip throttle set in the left armrest of his seat and twisted the grip gently. As he did so, the whine of the anti-grav units increased and the YF-401 lifted itself up, fifty feet off the ground, setting itself firmly in the air with nary a wobble.

All along the entire flight line of Area-51 stood the British and American pilots, technicians and scientists that were part of the Project. Once the wheels of the -401 left the ground, they all broke in cheers and wild applause. In the Control Tower, General Stuart pounded Mallory's shoulder in satisfaction as the Wing Commander laughed.

"Great job, Mallory, great job!" The General congratulated.

Mallory nodded. "Indeed it is. Now lets see if the damn thing will fly." He leaned forward and tapped the controller in contact with the -401. "Tell Wilkins to proceed with Phase 2."

Back in the cockpit, Flt Lt Wilkins nodded as he checked his kneepad one more time to go over the flight plan he had already memorized. "Beginning forward flight, Control."

Still gripping the throttle and keeping it twisted to maintain altitude, he pushed the throttle forward slowly and the Sabre seemingly leapt forward, streaking down the runway, a plume of dust raised in its wake.

"Yeeeee-haaaaaaa!" Wilkins screamed, a Yankee rebel yell, incongruous with the British pilot's normally laid-back manner.

Keeping a firm grip on the joystick controller, he studied the Heads Up Display. "Throttles at 30%, Control, and my ground speed's already up past 700 knots!"

Some of the technicians in the Control Tower looked at one another with concern and started making notes and conferring with each other while consulting their telemetry displays.

"We'll need to re-calibrate the throttle..."

"Not enough control at lower speeds..."

"I'm amazed it hasn't shook apart yet..."

General Stuart shook his head in amusement as he watched the YF-401 streak across the desert floor in a wide circle of the base. The original Flight Test plan had called for a minimal speed flight regime. If this is the minimal speed, he thought to himself, he couldn't wait to see how fast the damn thing flew with its balls to the wall. Looking around he caught the eyes of Wing Commander Mallory who was shaking his head in no little disbelief. Mallory shrugged slightly and turned to the Flight Controller. "Bring him in."

Control nodded. "Aye, sir. Flight 401, we are calling Phase 2 a success and you are cleared to Phase 3. Bring it on in, sir."

Wilkins sighed internally. He was having way too much fun at the moment but he figured they might not let him play with it again if he didn't go back in right away. They tend to frown on pilots disobeying orders and such. He laughed outright this time and he pulled the YF-401 into a gentle bank towards the runway. "Roger that, Control."

Lining up on the runway apron, the YF-401 closed the distance quickly. The prototype was just too fast and realizing he was going to overshoot, Wilkins pulled back on the throttle and brought the nose around sharply, actually causing the -401 to skid along the apron and almost come to a complete stop.

Unfortunately, the 'power slide' put too much strain on the right hand anti-grav unit and the computer registered an overload, so far over tolerance that the computer shut it down automatically before it exploded.

In the cockpit, Wilkins had just finished congratulating himself on getting this overpowered bird to stop on a dime when the displays in front of him all seemed to turn red. Diagnostics scrolled across the screen telling him of the overload but he was unable to read it as -401 had just gone into a backward spin to the right as the starboard AG unit shut down.

Wilkins swore internally but was too busy to make his mouth say the words as he dropped power to the other AG units and tried to restart the failed one before he dropped out of the sky. Looking at the HUD, he saw his altitude was at 30 feet and dropping fast.

*Control the spin* He thought as he moved his joystick controller, firing short burst from the RCS thrusters.

"25 feet..." An unknown voice exclaimed.

*Reset circuit breakers to AG unit 3, dammit!* The onboard computer blatting a negative as the circuits had fused and no juice was getting to the unit.

*Shit* "15 feet!" That voice again, calm as anything. Wilkins wanted to smack the speaker round the head.

Wilkins made a wordless cry of horror as he hit the controls to lower the landing gear.

"5 feet!" Wilkins realized absently that the calm voice actually belonged to him.

The YF-401 came down hard, almost slamming into the concrete apron, the landing gear only just managing to hold the prototype up. The whine of the engines dropped as Wilkins shut them down and sat in near silence except for the hum of electronics in the cockpit and the hammering of his heart as it tried to beat a path through his chest.

In the control tower, silence reigned as one minute they were watching Wilkins bring the fighter to rapid halt and then the next, telemetry computers had started bleating alarms as the -401 swung into a backwards spin and the dropped like a rock onto the apron. It had all taken less than ten seconds.

Mallory swung round at the technicians at the telemetry stations. "What in the hell happened?"

The technicians looked at the reports scrolling across their screens and the hard copy printouts of the past telemetry. "One of the AG units failed when that reckless power slide put too much strain on it!"

General Stuart grabbed a hold of Mallory as he growled at the implied blame of Wilkins and made a move towards the technician. "Hold on there, Tex. Your boy's okay and he got the bird down in one piece. From what I saw, I'm amazed he managed that."

He turned and glared at the technicians. "As for you, I suggest you go down there and take those AG units apart until you can figure a way to prevent this from happening again."

The technicians nodded somewhat shamefacedly and then left the tower. Stuart turned back to see Mallory in control again. "Why don't you go and see to Wilkins, Wing Commander. Your boy's likely to be pretty shook up about now. Debrief him personally and report back to me." As Mallory nodded, Stuart looked around the tower to see the Project's section leaders downcast.

"People, don't beat yourselves up too much over this." He addressed everyone in the control tower. "You're taking alien and prototype human technologies and trying to get them to work together, and you've only been at it for a little less than a year. Frankly, I'm amazed you've achieved as much as you have. You are all doing a fantastic job and you should be proud of the first successful flight test of the F-401, Earth's first Space Superiority fighter. And it was a success, regardless of that overly hard landing. If you will be in the 'O' Club tonight, drinks will be on me."

As he looked around, the scientists, engineers, technicians and officers were beginning to see past the accident and celebrate the fact that the test had been successful. More than a few began to laugh, shaking hands and slapping backs.

General Stuart nodded to himself. They'd be okay. He turned round to see one of his colleagues from the Joint Chiefs, Admiral Willard, silently clapping his hands.

Willard was grinning slightly. "Nice speech, General. Gotta keep the men motivated, don't we?"

Stuart grinned despite himself. "Go easy there, Squid, we can't all use the lash like you."

"Ha!" Willard barked. "You Airdales always did need mollycoddling. Takes a Navy man to understand pain as a motivator."

As the two senior officers left the Control tower, their aides in trail, Stuart gestured expansively. "If you're so hot for pain, you can take my place with the President next month as we go public with the Stargate. You don't know the definition of pain until you've met the White House Press Corp in a feeding frenzy."

The Navy Admiral frowned slightly. "Not a chance in hell, Orin. To be frank, I'm surprised you've kept the secret this long. I thought for sure, it'd be out when we let half the European and Asian heads of state in on it."

Stuart nodded in agreement. "So did I. Honestly, I think one or two reporters have picked up hints about it all but most of the Press Corp is still whipped up about the upcoming Presidential election. Hard to talk about anything else when it looks like the Republican's are going to win."

Willard winced. "If he wins, what will it mean for the Project. I hear that he's not all that hot for the Stargate project."

Stuart's faced turned grim. "We shall see, as the blind man once said. We shall see..."

18:25 ZULU
28/04/2003


"Kree, Jaffa!"

Hek'at's voice boomed out across the forest as his three squads of ten Jaffa moved forward under the supporting fire of another two squads against another group of Jaffa who were firing with reckless abandon from a particularly dense section of forest in which they had chosen to make their stand. The 'zip' of staff blasts echoed everywhere and the Jaffa defenses before Hek'at were crumbling.

Even as Hek'at called out, small sections of his men had broken through the enemy lines and were rolling up their flanks. When they heard their First Prime shout, they ceased their attack.

Hek'at strode forward from where he had been observing the battle and towards the center of the fighting. Jaffa were strewn across the forest floor. As he approached the center of the battlefield, one of the defending Jaffa who was lying on the ground, groaned and rolled over onto his back.

Hek'at stopped beside him and looked down at the barely conscious Jaffa. He smiled. "Take comfort, Jaffa, that you will live to learn from your defeat." Leaning forward slightly he stretched out an arm, which the Jaffa gladly took hold of, and helped him to his feet. All around the forest, the Jaffa that had been stunned by the training staff weapons where being helped up by their comrades.

Looking round, he saw that the men of the 32nd Cohort had taken their defeat at the hands of the 5th Cohort, Hek'at's personal troops, well. "Jaffa of the 32nd...what is your analysis of the fight? Kre'tac?" Hek'at asked one of the senior Jaffa of the 32nd Cohort.

Kre'tac looked as the face of his fellow Jaffa briefly and then looked straight at the First Prime. "They did not fight as we were expecting, they did not fight like Jaffa!"

Hek'at felt like cheering. "Why not? Whom did they fight like?"

"They sneaked up on us! Like those damn Tau'ri fighters! It was not fair!" Kre'tac practically shouted.

Hek'at's mood darkened considerably. "Fair?" He asked, dangerously quiet. "You ask for fairness from your fellow Jaffa in a training fight, would you also ask for fairness from the Tau'ri in battle?"

Kre'tac opened his mouth to answer and then closed it abruptly, unable to come up with a suitable reply.

Hek'at nodded. "Now you show intelligence." He looked round at the sea of faces. "My Cohort attacked using Tau'ri combat tactics of stealth and surprise that have proven time and again to be most effective. Why should they care that you consider them 'unfair'?"

"Our tactics are stale and tired. We have been fighting the same way for thousands of years and it is beginning to show. The Tau'ri are cunning and inventive fighters and it is only by matching that guile that we can hope to defeat them. Our Gods send us into battle, defeating our enemies through sheer weight of numbers, expending our lives like so much garbage. That is okay, that is their right. They are Gods and our lives belong to them but isn't it better to win and live for our Gods rather than to win and die for them."

All of the Jaffa were nodding in agreement, their eyes shining as they hung on the First Prime's every word.

"I have taught the 5th Cohort everything I can, it is now the 32nd's turn. When we return to camp, the 5th will begin training you in the ways of the Tau'ri and when they are finished, together you will go out teach the other Cohorts not only how to win but how to win and survive!"

"Jaffa, Bast!" Hek'at finished.

"JAFFA, BAST!" The two Jaffa Cohorts replied.


Sometime later, Hek'at was summoned to the throne room. Moving swiftly through the corridors of the Fortress Palace, he soon arrived at the throne room, the two Jaffa guards standing in the corridor pushed open the doors at his approach. Hek'at entered the room and strode straight towards the throne and kneeled before Bast, ignoring the various Goa'uld that lined the chamber, awaiting audience with the Queen. Although being lovers, Bast and Hek'at still maintained the pretense of subservience for everyone else under their command.

"First Prime..." Bast purred. "...How goes the new training of my Jaffa?"

"It goes well, my Queen." Hek'at replied. "It is difficult for them at times but they are good men."

Bast nodded, digesting this in silence. She rose smoothly from her throne and inclined her head at the double handful of courtiers nearby. "Please leave us. We shall continue this later this day."

The Minor System Lords and other medium ranking Goa'uld hid their annoyance well and simply bowed with respect and then filed out of the chambers. Once the doors had closed, leaving them alone, Hek'at rose from his knee and smiled fondly at Bast. "You didn't have to do that, my Queen."

Bast nodded and waved her hand dismissively. "I'll make it up to them later. I've had enough of their prattling and endless complaints. Yu has a lot to answer for."

Hek'at frowned. The System Lord Yu controlled the one of the largest Goa'uld empires, second only to that controlled first by Apophis and now by Bast. Apophis had united the majority of the System Lords under his banner but Yu had seen fit to oppose Apophis in this and instead had begun to lead a faction of System Lords in opposition. These 'Separatists' wanted nothing more than to be able to run their own empires as they saw fit with no oversight from Apophis, Bast or anyone else. At first, Yu's opposition was mainly passive, refusing to provide resources and such but since Bast had killed Apophis and taken command of the Alliance of System Lords, Yu had begun outright warfare against the Alliance, no more accepting Bast as Supreme System Lord than he did Apophis. Hek'at smiled internally. Offer Yu the position of Supreme System Lord and his resistance to the Alliance would hardly be a memory to him. The arcane politics of the System Lords continued to both amuse and dismay him. He wondered if the Tau'ri had similar problems with their leaders.

"Yu's Separatist faction has been raiding some of the lesser Lords in order to disrupt any attempt to bring him and his faction to heel." Bast continued. "Our last non-aggression proposal was refused thanks to Tok'ra and Tau'ri intervention."

"The raid on Aleph Prime?" Hek'at asked.

Bast nodded. "As far as I've been able to determine, the Tau'ri blew up his construction facilities there and the Tok'ra left just enough evidence to lay the blame firmly at my door."

As she sat back down in here throne, Hek'at growled in dissatisfaction. "This separatist movement works in their favor, while we fight amongst ourselves, they are free to cause chaos and add to the destruction."

"Exactly. There is however, little we can do about it for now." A glint of deviousness seemed to come into her eyes. Hek'at saw it immediately.

"I see that look in your eye, woman." He remarked in amusement. "What have you been up to?"

Bast leaned forward slightly. "I've been able to make some intercepts of Tok'ra communications and I've learned that the Tau'ri General O'Neill and one of his strike teams are going on a trip through the Chappa'ai tomorrow on some diplomatic matter the Tok'ra didn't elaborate on. I do have, however, the address of the planet he is going to."

Hek'at seemed to perk up at the mention of the address. Bast held up a hand in regret. "I'm afraid I cannot spare any Motherships at the moment, too many tasks for them protecting our assets against Yu, so all you'll be able to do is take a handful of Cohorts through the Chappa'ai."

His mind already spinning with plans, Hek'at spoke absently, "I shall take my personal Cohort and the two others that are currently undergoing training. We shall see if we can rid ourselves of O'Neill once and for all."

Frowning slightly, Bast rose from her throne and stepped down to her First Prime, placing a hand gently on his cheek. "Please be careful. I would order you to stay but..."

Hek'at smiled grimly. "It would be pointless to give an order you know I'll disobey. Regardless, I have no intention of dying at the hands of O'Neill. With faith in my Jaffa and a little luck, it will be the Tau'ri doing all the dying tomorrow."



Chapter 2
Dancing In The Moonlight




09:30 ZULU
29/04/2003


The entire complement of SG-Delta had been in one of the Assault team briefing rooms for over an hour as they went over what little intelligence they had on the 'Raiders' that had 'terrorized' the peaceful, pacifistic society on Denolia. They noted that terrorized was far too strong a word in this case, at least to human sensibilities.

Denolian vid-recordings had showed Shiv to be something from a novel, a colorful, bombastic leader feared and respected by his men. The Denolian Stargate was set in the middle of their capital city and after arriving through the Stargate, his men would spread out and grab as much stuff as they could find and carry back to the Stargate, curiously enough, doing little to no damage to either property or person. Although the attacks were sparse and at totally random intervals, they followed an almost methodical pattern every time they arrived, hitting the same hardware and food facilities every time and studiously avoiding killing or even becoming violent.

One disgusted Delta trooper commented that the Denolians were like sheep and these Raiders would turn up now and again and shear off their wool, leaving the animal unharmed so that they could come along at a later date and do it all over again.

Stood at a lectern at the front of the briefing room, O'Neill nodded. "That's an accurate comparison but it seems the sheep have had enough and have asked us to put an end to it. You've all seen everything we have on the Raiders, which isn't a hell of a lot. We know nothing about their base of operations, for example. We have their Stargate address and we intend to send out a U.A.V for a quick scout around before we move out, so we know what kind of terrain we'll be dealing with."

One of the British members of SG-Delta could be heard to mumble in his distinctive accent. "There'll be a bloody forest, most likely..."

As they all laughed, O'Neill nodded with a slight grin on his face. "Not even Vegas would take that bet, Corporal."

Shuffling slightly, he leaned forward and studied his men intently. "Intelligence on this mission is poor, we have no idea of what we'll be facing, we expect around 200 raiders but there could be more and there could be less. The thing of it is this, I want to try and capture these Raiders with a minimum of casualties, to us and to them."

As expected murmurs greeted that remark and O'Neill saved anybody the effort of asking why. "You've seen the reports, these Raiders are numerous, organized and disciplined. Their raids leave little to no destruction behind, only inconvenience and frustration on the part of the Denolians inability to stop them. Essentially, I'm curious as to why this is. Take no chances, if you're threatened, take 'em out but if you can use zats, use 'em, I want as few dead as possible."

It was clear that some of the troops understood what he was talking about, that some couldn't understand his reasoning and that some couldn't give a damn either way. Taking the enemy alive was a mission they had performed many times and this instance presented no particular challenges to them today either.

O'Neill picked up his PDA from the lectern and looked over at Colonel Colwell. "I think we're done here, Colonel. Carter should be prepping the U.A.V as we speak so we'll know what we need to know soon. I'll let you know if we find anything special."

"I'll start getting my people set. We'll meet you on the ramp in an hour, sir." Colwell replied with a casual salute.


* * * * * * * * * *

O'Neill sauntered into the Command Center, returning the friendly but respectful nods from the staff. Colonel Carter was sat next to the primary station and Sgt Jenkins. The display in front of them showed the Stargate dialing up with a U.A.V on a launch ramp in front of it.

"Everything ready, Carter?" O'Neill asked, stopping behind her.

She turned round briefly, an eyebrow raised archly. "As if you need to ask, Sir?"

Grinning, O'Neill raised his hand in surrender. "Just making sure, Colonel, just making sure." He turned to Jenkins. "Dial it up, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir!" Sgt Jenkins replied, typing rapidly into his keyboard. He finished with a decisive hit of the 'enter' key and the Stargate started spinning rapidly and came to a halt almost as quickly as the first chevron jolted open, glowing with orange intensity and then clamping solidly shut.

CHEVRON ONE, LOCKED!

As the 'Gate continued on in it's usual way, O'Neill felt that he should have become fairly bored with the whole thing by now but to his consternation, he realized that he still felt the stirrings of excitement, deep in his gut as the Stargate vibrated with barely controlled energy. The techs had learned how to dampen the vibrations considerably since they first got it to work but there was still a faint tremble.

O'Neill, of course, was in the Command Center, almost a kilometer away from the Stargate so any vibrations he felt was purely imaginary but it didn't matter. Even watching the Stargate in operation on the display screen, didn't take away any of the awe and pure humility he felt when watching that ancient and alien device work its magic, the ability to travel across the stars.

His excitement built steadily as the dialing sequence progressed until the moment of truth arrived and...

CHEVRON SEVEN, ENCODED AND LOCKED!

The Stargate exploded into life, its energies blossoming outward and the swirling backward, retreating to form the event horizon that looked like a rippling pool of quicksilver.

Carter gave a tight grin. "Wormhole established. I guess they don't bother burying their 'Gate at all." She turned to Sgt Jenkins. "Launch the U.A.V."

"Yes, ma'am!" He replied, irreverently.

O'Neill chuckled to himself. He knew that being called "ma'am" made Carter feel old. Motion on the display caught his eye as it showed the techs backing away from the U.A.V as, seconds later, its turbofan jet engine spewed flame from its exhaust. The clamps on the launch ramp, released and the U.A.V shot forward and vanished into the wormhole, its departure leaving nothing behind but a trail of smoke and faint ripples in the event horizon.

"Launch successful, sir." Sgt Jenkins reported. "The U.A.V is airborne and scanning."

The display flickered and switched from showing the Gate room to a view from the high-resolution camera mounted on the unmanned aerial drone.

Rapidly accessing her computer, Carter smiled. "There's no forest per se, from these readings, it seems most of the terrain appears to be tropical jungle."

O'Neill didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at having to deal with a jungle rather than a forest. "Any sign of the Raiders?"

"Checking...there appears to be several large heat sources about half a klick from the 'Gate. Its local night there so I'm guessing they're camp fires." She replied. "They seem to be in a small clearing at the base of a fairly large ziggurat..."

O'Neill frowned. "A ziggy what?"

"A stepped pyramid, probably Mayan in origin." A voice replied from the doorway of the Command Center.

O'Neill didn't bother turning round as Daniel moved up beside him. "Why can't you just call it a pyramid and be done with it?" Sighing, he finally looked over at Daniel who was cleaning his glasses absently while studying the pictures of the ziggurat on the display screen. "Do you think a ziggy-rat would make a good base of operations for these Raiders?"

Daniel nodded. "Their interiors are generally as complex as any pyramid we've encountered except their entrances are usually at the top. Pretty defensible places."

"How many people are outside with those campfires?" O'Neill asked Carter.

She glanced briefly at computer display Sgt Jenkins was working at, he pointed at a small line of numbers at the bottom of the screen. "We're picking up about 200 individual heat signatures consistent with the standard human body."

Daniel smiled. "I guess Shiv's throwing a party after a successful raid."

"A good bet." O'Neill replied. "Download everything into SG-Delta's tactical PDA's. I gotta go get prepped for departure. We're going to have to get creative if they barricade themselves in that ziggy-rat."

"Aye, sir" Carter replied. "And sir?"

O'Neill halted in his path to the door and turned to look at his 2IC.

"Good luck, sir..." She added. "And remember, its bad form for a General to get himself shot on a mission."

O'Neill snorted and shook his head in amusement as he left to go put on his gear.

* * * * * * * *

CHEVRON SIX, LOCKED!

Colonel Colwell looked over his troops as they stood in front of the Stargate in an array, twenty-five soldiers across and five lines deep. He realized absently that he was at 'paper' strength for the first time in several months. Each Assault team was supposed to have 125 soldiers, not including the CO and his 2IC but of late, some teams only had around a hundred or so available due to injury or death. New recruits we coming more and more quickly now as the American-British-Russian alliance got up to speed. Rumor had it that they were going to bring several more NATO countries in on the Stargate war at the G14 summit next month. As he studied his men, Colwell's eyes met those of his 2IC, Major Ortiz. He grinned as he remembering their last conversation on the subject of more troops from foreign states joining in the fight. Ortiz was none too subtle in his opinions...

*Sir, you gotta understand, the Brits are an okay lot, hell, I even like some of the Russian characters but if they don't speak American and wear Air Force blue, I wouldn't trust 'em to know which end the bullet comes out of P-90...*

Colwell turned from his inspection as he saw General O'Neill enter the Gate Room.

CHEVRON SEVEN, ENCODED AND LOCKED!

"General, SG-Delta is ready to depart!" He reported, cheerfully. Like any soldier worth his weapon, he wanted to be out in the field rather than sitting behind a desk going over readiness reports.

O'Neill casually walked past the arrayed soldiers, a twinkle in his eye as he prepared himself for his first 'combat mission' since the Spearhead Invasion last year. The Stargate burst into life and O'Neill gave it an appreciative glance before turning to address the leader of SG-Delta.

"Alright, Colonel. Send in the M.A.L.P." He ordered.

Colwell nodded once at the General and then turned to several techs that were waiting beside the probe. He snapped his fingers to gain their attention and pointed at the Stargate. The techs nodded and activated the M.A.L.P's remote control. It trundled forward and rode up the ramp, towards the event horizon, where it vanished into the quicksilver surface with barely a ripple.

PROBE IN TRANSIT! the voice of Sgt Jenkins announced over the speakers.

All the soldiers in the Gate room turned to face the wall display that had showed a view of the Command Center but had switched to a static filled video feed from the M.A.L.P. They watched as the static flickered and formed into a green starlight-enhanced view of a small clearing and a line of thick jungle beyond. The camera on the probe panned round slowly and revealed a worn path, cut into the jungle and just above the canopy, the hint of the top of the ziggurat loomed in the distance.

O'Neill studied the data from the probe for several minutes, just to establish that it wasn't picking up any life forms in the immediate vicinity. "Okay people, saddle up!"

Colonel Colwell turned to his men. "2nd Platoon, take point...secure the immediate area and radio back when you've deemed it clear."

The Captain in charge of 2nd Platoon saluted briskly and ran up the ramp towards the Stargate, the twenty-five men and women of 2nd platoon following closely. They al raised their weapons to their shoulders and charged straight into the event horizon.


* * * * * * * * *


Shiv laughed raucously, along with many of his people who had been close enough to see one of his men get slapped soundly by the female he had been trying to get into his tent tonight. The literally red-faced man glared at her for several seconds and then laughed out loud in resignation. Two of his friends joined him on either side and pushed a mug of 'kesh' into hand and together, they moved off in search of other women gullible enough to fall for his 'charm'.

The Raiders were doing pretty much what they do every night and that was party until the suns rose. Their last raid to Denolia had given them enough supplies to last them for several weeks and Shiv was feeling in a fairly generous mood. All of his people had been obeying the 'Laws' and he hadn't had to execute one of them in over three months. That in itself was cause for celebration. And celebrate he would.

Sat on his 'throne' at the base of fortress, his two women were sat on his lap doing very distracting things to him as he watched his people dance, eat and drink. Even now late at night, they were lifting another 'tench' onto the spit above the cooking fire. His mouth watered even though he had already had several roasted ribs of 'tench'. As one of his girls tickled the back of neck, Karl, his second in command approached his throne, an amused if concerned look on his face.

"Karl!" Shiv roared, startling the woman considerably. "What the hell are you doing still sober? You work harder than any two of the rest of the Family!"

Karl shook his head in resignation and replied in an odd but cultured accent. "We can't all be hedonists like you, Shiv..."

"Nonsense!" Shiv interrupted. "To my way of thinking, there is nothing else in this life to aspire too than greater heights of hedonism than achieved the night before."

Karl had to laugh at that. As a philosophy, it was a lot better than some he'd heard from 'established' scholars. "Be that as it may, Shiv, something's come up...or should I say through."

Shiv frowned, his thick eyebrows almost obscuring his eyes. "The Circle?"

Karl nodded and Shiv stood up, spilling the women to either side. "The alarm hasn't gone off..."

Again, Karl nodded. "I checked the equipment, it hasn't picked up any heavy indication of aqua technology so I'm fairly sure it's not the System Lords. If they'd come in a Mothership, we'd have known about it by now."

Shiv grimaced. "They damn well better not turn up in a Mothership, it cost us a small fortune to relocate a Circle to this world, a world not known to the Goa'uld."

"Either way, Shiv, should we alert everyone?" Karl asked.

Looking around, Shiv shook his head slightly. "There's not that many people still sober." He turned to his trusted friend. "I'm not sure that there's that much of a threat out there yet. It's probably just some explorers roaming the Circle network. Take whomever you can find that's still sober and go check it out. If it is the Jaffa, raise the alarm but if it's strangers, be cordial and escort them back to the Circle." They had on occasion met several bands of explorers from other worlds. They usually accepted the fact that they were unwelcome here as long as he was polite about it. He winced as a thought occurred to him. "UNLESS you think they may be friendly to the Goa'uld. If they are, avoid them. Let them do whatever they want to do around here and let them go without announcing our presence."

Karl nodded. "And if they discover us and our base?" He asked, knowing the answer but needing the confirmation.

"Eliminate them." Shiv replied, bluntly. "And then return quickly, if we have to kill System Lord flunkies the Family will have to relocate. Fast."


* * * * * * * *

After Karl had assembled nearly fifteen men and disappeared into the night, Shiv had returned to the party with the intention of ignoring what was most likely a false alarm. Unfortunately, that proved impossible. So there he sat, laughing when someone made a joke, raising his mug of 'kesh' when someone made a bawdy toast and smiling when one of his lovers whispered sweet nothings into his ear, while all through it, his mind churned with plans and possible responses in case the intruders turned out to be Jaffa and they had to evacuate the planet.

He and his band of men and women were drifters, each and every one of them coming from numerous worlds, some primitive, some advanced, all of them looking for excitement, adventure or simply something better than whatever they'd had before. Some had escaped from under the thumb of the System Lords, some had simply left their worlds and wandered the Circle network until they came across Shiv and the Family.

Shiv took anybody in and as long as they obeyed the Law, they stayed part of the family. Occasionally, they take in people, usually young men who thought that they had left the rules behind in their old lives and that they could do whatever they wanted. At best they were expelled from the Family, at worst, executed.

The Family traveled the Circle network, trading information, valuables and work for food, although sometimes stealing it. Shiv was very careful about who they raided for food. They were a fair number of worlds out there whose inhabitants were either very peaceful with weak defenses or completely pacifistic. Shiv preferred the latter worlds as he, although not particularly squeamish about spilling blood, tried to avoid killing ordinary people whenever possible lest he become like the System Lords.

The System Lords destroyed his homeworld when he was but a teenager and he and his mother had escaped through the Circle to an uninhabited world of grass plains and forests. There they had lived for several years until his mother became ill and died. Soon after, he too fell seriously ill in much the same way that his mother did. But somehow, he survived. Having nothing else on that world to live for, his need for revenge grew and so he packed his things went through the Circle, on a quest to punish the System Lords who had killed his family and his world. As the years passed, he met several other people much like himself, displaced by the System Lords and hungry for vengeance.

As their numbers grew, they made many attacks on Goa'uld outposts, barely pinprick assaults to the System Lords but satisfying to Shiv and his men. Unfortunately, they became overconfident and their entire force of sixty men and women made an attack on a Goa'uld base, something that would really hurt the System Lords. Shiv's band of raiders was slaughtered. Only Shiv and four others survived, one of them a new recruit called Karl. They return to their base and the loved ones of the dead, injured and grief stricken. Together they decided to end their attempts at revenge and to simply try and eke out an existence as far away from the System Lords as they could.

Thus, the Family was born.

Shiv pulled out a chronometer and realized Karl had been gone for almost forty minutes. He looked up at one of his men who understood the look and shook his head slightly. Karl hadn't reported in yet.

Snarling, Shiv stood up and charged forward spouting orders. "Party's over, I want all the dependants inside, now! Wake up as many of the troops as you can and begin issuing weapons..."

"Shiv, everyone's pretty much drunk on 'kesh' as it is." One lieutenant interrupted. "We've only got a handful of sober men left, all the rest went with Karl."

Shiv turned to glare at the boy but softened the gesture when he realized that he spoke the truth and taking out his frustration on the lad would do no one any good.

"Alright, lad. Do what you can anyway." Shiv replied.

The lieutenant nodded and moved off with several of his men in tow.

As Shiv and his group moved off in the other direction, Shiv cursed himself for letting down his guard. This world never originally held a Circle and thus no one would know of its existence, he had allowed this warm blanket of security to be his shield and now the System Lords had stumbled across him and pierced that shield. All around him, people who had been reveling and drinking heavily were picking themselves up and staggering inside the ziggurat or trying to sober up while taking defensive positions around the camp.

Suddenly, several women screamed as the area behind Shiv erupted into white flashes as zat blasts flew out of the darkness, each one hitting one of Shiv's defenders. Shiv and his men grabbed their weapons and turned around, ready to fire on the Jaffa hordes that must be out there when they were just as suddenly hit in the back by zat blasts.

Shiv's world went blindingly white and then black.

Chapter 3
New Friends, Old Friends


23:20 ZULU
29/04/2003

He awoke with a pounding head and a groan that would have done a grizzly bear proud. His first thought was that must been a great party for him to feel this bad and then with the impact of lightning bolt, or more accurately, a zat blast; he remember the events that led up to his unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and found himself laying on a bed inside one the small huts outside the ziggurat. Feeling slightly sore from laying in an uncomfortable position, he swung his legs over the side and quickly sat up. He then just as quickly regretted it when his head exploded in pain and dizziness. He grabbed his head and groaned once more.

Shiv was startled out of his pain when he heard a wry chuckle from across the room. Looking up, he saw two young men, maybe twenty five summers old, dressed in strange black clothes, adorned in exotic equipment and carrying what could only be a lethal accumulation of weapons, although unlike any weapons he had ever seen before. Obviously soldiers, these must be who attacked the camp last night and not the Jaffa hordes he had expected.

"Who the hell are you!" Shiv asked, surprised and pleased at how coherently that came out. Whoever these people were, they didn't appear to be System Lords either.

The two men looked at each other briefly but said nothing, at least to him. The one on the left raised his hand to his ear and then murmured something quietly. Less than a minute later, another man appeared, this one much older than the others.

"Well you look like shit...I guess zat blasts and alcohol don't mix all that well, eh?" He said.

Shiv just grunted and looked at him expectantly. The man nodded. "I'm General Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force, Earth."

Seeing no signs of recognition on his face, O'Neill tried again. "The System Lords call us the Tau'ri..."

Shiv winced. "That's just a fairytale we tell children. The Tau'ri don't exist anymore than the Shredder of Pelos, or the Grenth does."

Grinning, O'Neill sat down in a chair opposite the bed. "Well I can't speak for the Grenth or this Shredder but the Tau'ri exist all right, and we are, I'm pleased to say, one major thorn in the side of the System Lords."

Annoyed, Shiv glared at O'Neill. "Why'd you attack us?"

O'Neill shrugged nonchalantly. "Ah, that would be because the Denolians got tired of you and you band of merry men stealing from them. We're just the sheriffs."

"We never killed any of them..." Shiv cried out, "...and I punished any of my people who went out of their way to hurt any of the Denolians, why did you have to kill Karl and the rest of my Family?"

The General stopped smiling and became serious. "We killed no one. We pretty much ambushed your advance group and took them with a shot. When we arrived at your camp, we 'zatted' pretty much everyone without too much trouble. That was pretty sloppy work on your part, by the way."

"We don't get many visitors. This planet isn't on anybodies map."

O'Neill inclined his head in understanding. "Come on, let's go for a walk. You can see the rest of your...Family, is it?"

Shiv nodded as he rose from the bed. He was a bear of a man and dwarfed O'Neil and the other troopers by the door.

"Your reputation doesn't do you justice, you know." O'Neill spoke as they walked past the two troopers and into the bright sunlight of the late morning. Shiv blinked rapidly as his eyes watered slightly in the glare of the two suns. As his vision returned, he could see that although numerous soldiers similar to those guarding him were stood around the camp, they were not interfering with his people in any way other than watching them. The women and children moved round the camp, doing the chores in much they same way they usually did. Shiv sensed no fear from his people but there was definitely a fair amount of confusion coming from them. The shoulders were almost tense as if they were waiting for the axe to fall, as the strange men would pull their masks off to reveal Jaffa who would make slaves of them

O'Neill watched his scrutiny with interest. "We're not the Goa'uld. We don't kill people just for the fun of it and from what I gather, neither do you. The Denolians asked us to put a stop to your raids but from what I've seen and heard about your operation, I don't think that means I have to take you down. All the people we zatted are being watched over and any injuries caused in the panic of last night are being treated."

Shiv looked at him with curiosity. "Why?"

O'Neill spread his hands out as if to encompass everything. "It's a hostile Universe out there. Full of people and cultures that would just as soon slit your throat than as look at you. What allies we do have all have their own agendas and objectives. Quite frankly, it depresses the hell out of me sometimes but that's what I get for watching too much Star Trek and its sugar coated vision of the future."

"Star trek...?" Shiv asked, completely confused.

O'Neill grinned and waved his hand as to disregard the subject. "I'll explain another time...the point I'm trying to make is, people who try to look after their own without stepping over the bodies of strangers are few and far between."

Shiv nodded agreement. "I've tried to look after my people the best I can. Sometimes we're forced to steal but..."

"You only pick targets where you can steal with little or no bloodshed." O'Neill interrupted. "Hence, your raids on pacifistic societies like Denolia."

Shiv smiled ruefully. "It never occurred to me that Denolia might have get around their pacifism by having someone who knows what their about come and clean our clock."

O'Neill snorted. "Trust me, we're used to being surrogate soldiers for other races. Let me tell you about the Tok'ra sometime..."

"Those arrogant 'thraks'!" Shiv swore in reply.

Raising an eyebrow, O'Neill commented wryly. "You obviously know the Tok'ra really well."

Shiv grunted in disgust. "We've crossed paths once or twice and in return for help from them, we would have had to provide them with a couple of 'volunteer' hosts."

O'Neill could do nothing but bite his tongue. The Tok'ra were too much like their cousins the Goa'uld in many ways for him to ever be comfortable with them as allies. "They've got their own agenda and admittedly, we have one of our own but ours is a lot more altruistic."

That was worth another grunt from Shiv. "What is it you want?" He asked, skeptically blunt.

"An Alliance." O'Neill replied, equally blunt. "The only sort of alliance out there at the minute that opposes the System Lords is made up of four very advanced races that, apart from odd occasions, take the general view of polite interest in the fate of the less advanced races. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for a lot of things they've done but these are old races, safe and secure from the Goa'uld. Only the Asgard have a clue about what it means to live under a threat of annihilation and they too close to losing their war to helping us out much and so we, the 'younger races', are on our own."

Shiv nodded. He may not know most of the races about which O'Neill spoke of but from the bits and pieces he'd heard from other worlds in the Galaxy, that description summed up the situation pretty well.

"You and your people have knowledge and skills we could use. I had a chat with your Karl fellow. You've been traveling the Stargate, uh, what you call the Circle, network for a long time and you've got contacts among races we've never met before. My people want to try and build an Alliance among the younger races, to build a mutual defense against the System Lords and any other threat out there."

Shiv let loose a long, low whistle in reply. "You don't think small do you?"

O'Neill grimaced. "Thinking small is what's let the System Lords terrorize the Galaxy. It's going to take a lot of hard work and a fair amount of time but I think we can do this. Especially with your help." O'Neill smiled. "You and your people know about potential worlds for our Alliance. I want you to work with us. Introduce us to other races that just might need our help. We're not strong enough to go toe to toe with the System Lords as yet but believe me, we're getting there."

"That's one hell of a sales pitch." Shiv replied with a bombastic laugh. He realized they'd walked a fair distance and was approaching a table surround by his men and the O'Neill soldiers who were all in a deep discussion. One of the men turned round and Shiv saw that it was Karl who, as he approached, was sporting a black eye.

Karl stood before Shiv, almost bounce from one foot to the other in excitement. "Shiv, it's good to see you're finally up and about. I've been talking with these Earth people and some of the stuff they've pulled off against the System Lords is incredible."

Shiv smiled and turned to O'Neill. "I think you have at least one fan already."

As O'Neill snorted in reply, Shiv turned back to his second in command. "How'd you get the black eye, Karl?"

Karl raised one hand to his bruised eye and grinned in no small embarrassment. "When we went to investigate the Circle's opening, we were totally surprised when these shadows came out of nowhere and knocked us all out before we had a chance to realize we'd been ambushed. From the stories I've heard about what they've done to the Jaffa over the years, I realized we were lucky they wanted to take us alive."

"Well..." Shiv replied loudly, winking at O'Neill. "It seems I'd better hear about these tales of wonder and magic to see what we're letting ourselves in for."

Karl nodded and the various men and women at the table moved apart and made room for the two newcomers as the soldiers of SG-Delta related some of their adventures.



11:43 ZULU
30/04/2003


Captain Anderson sat on the jungle floor with his back against the DHD. Most of his 3rd Platoon were milling around the clearing, chatting away while keeping an eye out, some were sat playing cards and one was reading a book. After Colonel Colwell, the General and the rest of SG-Delta had headed off into the jungle, his platoon had stayed behind to secure the Stargate. For the first few hours, they had taken up defensive positions around the Gate but after the Colonel had reported back to them to say that the Raider camp was secure, Anderson had allowed his men to relax somewhat.

SHA-CHUNK!!

As one, 3rd Platoon whipped round to look at the Stargate as it's chevrons glowed with barely suppressed energies.

FFWOOSH!!

As the event horizon exploded into existence and retreated back into it's pool-like state, 3rd Platoon was grabbing its weapons and taking up defensive positions around the clearing, the P-90's and M-60's aimed at the Stargate. Captain Anderson pulled back from the DHD and jumped over a fallen tree, sliding into position next to three other soldiers. As he pulled himself back up and pointed his weapon at the Stargate, he cursed softly and activated his radio.

"Delta-Six, Delta-Six, this Cobra-Six, Slipstream! I say again, Slipstream!" Slipstream was the codeword for unscheduled wormhole activation by unknown forces.

Although there was no reply, Anderson could easily imagine the shitstorm erupting among the rest of SG-Delta. He just prayed to God that it was all innocent and it was Spearhead or the SGC trying to make contact with them for some reason.

The thought was barely completed when two Jaffa simultaneously stepped through the event horizon.

They died in a hail of gunfire as Anderson activated his radio again. "Hurricane, Hurricane! I say again, Hurricane!" Hurricane upgraded the previous warning into confirmation of a Jaffa incursion. 'Tornado' would have used to signify unknown hostile forces, 'Squall' for friendly forces and 'Typhoon' for a First Contact situation. This situation definitely rated a Hurricane as Jaffa continued to pour through the wormhole.

Captain Anderson watched as they continued to died, seconds after exiting the wormhole but sheer weight of numbers allowed some exit and fire off staff blasts into the ranks of 3rd Platoon. Over the next five minutes, almost thirty Jaffa lay dead and dying around the base of the Stargate but 3rd Platoon had two dead and one wounded with a hit in the shoulder. Jaffa were coming through faster now and they were adroitly using the bodies of their dead for cover. Unfortunately, these Jaffa seemed to be showing a bit more common sense when it came to combat tactics. That struck him odd as he had never seen Jaffa actively search for cover before.

On Anderson's left, Sergeant Major Price grunted slightly as a staff blast impacted at the front of the fallen tree they were using for cover, sending splinters everywhere. He turned to the Captain and growled. "Cap'n, their fire's picking up a bit now and it's only gonna get worse..."

Anderson agreed. "The rest of Delta's too far out, they'll never get back here in time to support us. We're going to have to fall back." He stopped talking as Colonel Colwell started talking to him over the radio command frequency.

"Yes, sir...not much longer...that's affirmative...it's no probe, sir, they're here in numbers...roger that, sir. In zero five minutes...out."

Price fired off a quick burst from his P90 at a Jaffa whose head poked up from behind the DHD. "What's the word, Cap'n?"

Also firing off a couple of bursts, Anderson smiled slightly. "Seems the Colonel read our minds, we're going to pull back along Route Alpha and he and the General will meet us halfway. We'll draw as many Jaffa back with us as possible and the rest of Delta will catch them in a pincer movement from either side of Route Alpha."

Sergeant Major Price nodded in complete understanding and raised his head slightly while activating his radio on the platoon frequency. "All right people, listen up, we're going pull back half a klick down Route Alpha. I want this by the numbers, 1st and 2nd squads provide covering fire, everyone else will set one claymore and then withdraw...1st and 2nd squads, give them thirty seconds and then pop smoke and run like hell. Everyone clear? Let's do it people!"

Along the perimeter of the clearing, the soldiers of 1st and 2nd squads intensified the firing considerably. P90's emptied the clips rapidly in short, successive bursts. M60's underscored the bursts of fire with a steady 'chutta' of a belt fed machine gun and everything was punctuated by explosions caused by the grenadiers who carried M16's with under-slung M203 40mm grenade launchers. The fire was so intense that they actually caused the Jaffa to cease firing in an attempt to hunker down and try to live through the barrage.

Unfortunately, the two squads were unable to keep up that rate of fire and ammo clips and belts quickly ran dry but they had lasted long enough for the rest of 2nd Platoon to lay claymore booby traps and fall back to their next position along Route Alpha. 1st and 2nd squads then pulled out their smoke grenades and threw them just in front of their positions, white clouds billowing into existence, quickly obscuring all view of the battlefield. They picked themselves up and ran towards the other squads who had become the next line of battle for when the Jaffa penetrated the smoke line and claymores.

In this leapfrog manner, 2nd Platoon would make its way along Route Alpha to meet with the rest of SG-Delta in an attempt to ambush the flanks of the pursuing Jaffa.

* * * * * * * * *

Hek'at spat dust from his mouth and cursed the fates that gave the Tau'ri soldiers such a variety of weapons as they walked their primitive but effective grenades along his positions, killing his men with death from above. After an eternity of earth-shattering explosions, it took Hek'at several seconds to realize that they had stopped. He and several Seconds raised their heads above their cover in time to see several grenades fly out from the jungle and land just inside the clearing. Even as he reflexively opened his mouth in curiosity they didn't so much explode as break apart, white smoke seemingly expanding to fill the entire area in a matter of seconds.

Hek'at frowned and pressed the activation button on his collar, unfolding his helmet, which expanded around his head. The vision enhancers tried to see through the smoke but failed utterly for the smoke was apparently multi-spectral. Hek'at heard sounds of surprise from his men as they activated their own helmets and hit the same conclusion like a brick wall. Just when he thought that he had adapted to the Tau'ri's inventive nature, they surprise him once more with this. He also realized that the defensive fire from the Tau'ri had stopped. The smoke was obviously to cover their retreat.

Hek'at looked over at the senior Second from the 5th Cohort. "Bre'toc! As soon as the rest of your men are through the Chappa'ai, take them and pursue the Tau'ri and Bre'toc...keep your wits about you. No doubt the Tau'ri have a few surprises waiting for us."

Bre'toc nodded once and rallied his Cohort, which was still pouring through the Chappa'ai. Making a quick mental count, he realized that he'd lost about eleven Jaffa in the assault. No matter. They had done their jobs and secured the Chappa'ai so that the rest of their forces could arrive unopposed. Bre'toc snapped his fingers at a group of five Jaffa, grabbing their attention and pointed at the smoke shrouded tree line. "Jaffa, Kree!"

The five Jaffa nodded simultaneously and activated their helmets. Grabbing their staff weapons tightly, they moved into the smoke warily, alert for any Tau'ri presence. The smoke was slowly beginning to thin out as they approached the other side and entered the jungle proper.

Bre'toc was in the process of rallying the rest of the 5th Cohort who had finally arrived when a cluster of explosions came from the jungle. Then, seconds later, over a hundred Jaffa pointed their staffs at the white cloud as a figure staggered out of the mist. It was one of the Jaffa scouts, his left arm covered in blood and hanging uselessly, small wounds cover the left side of his chest and arms where the ball bearings from the claymores had ripped through the other four Jaffa.

As several Jaffa raced to help their comrade, Bre'toc glanced at Hek'at. "It's a good thing we sent them out ahead, Hek'at, those booby traps would have murdered even more of us if we'd blundered into them unknowingly. Permission to proceed?"

Hek'at nodded and Bre'toc turned to his men. "Jaffa, Kree!"

Fifteen Jaffa ran ahead as a new scouting screen for the main advance. They made their way past the line of destruction from the exploded claymores but they were wary of other unexploded traps and they moved slowly.

As they progressed into the jungle, they quickly found a clear trail that was obviously made by the Tau'ri's swift retreat. Several of the Jaffa scouts moved into the clear path and begin to pick up speed in an effort to chase down the enemy but the scout leader halted them, a thoughtful look on his face. "Remember our training, think about our instinctive reactions and then put ourselves in the Tau'ri's position...what would they do to us?"

One of the scouts looked up and down the path several times. "An ambush?"

The scout leader simply nodded and prepared to contact Jaffa Second Bre'toc.

The worst fears of Spearhead, the SGC and its soldiers had been realized...the Jaffa had finally begun to cast aside millennia of stale doctrine and adapted to fighting a cunning and inventive foe. The Jaffa were getting smart.

* * * * * * * * * *

O'Neill shifted his position slightly as he felt his knee twinge slightly in protest as he lay still on the jungle floor with 2nd Squad, 1st Platoon, 100 meters to the right of Route Alpha, along with the rest of 1st and 2nd Platoons. Colonel Colwell and the 4th and 5th Platoons were similarly on the opposite side of Route Alpha and less than five minutes ago, 3rd Platoon had passed between them, hauling their dead and wounding with them.

Everybody was slightly concerned because for up until ten minutes ago, 3rd Platoon had been chased by a large number of Jaffa, Captain Anderson had estimated at least a Cohort, probably two. SG-Delta expected the Jaffa to fall into their ambush several minutes ago and as yet, there was no sign of them.

O'Neill was about to radio Colonel Colwell when gunfire and staff weapons fire erupted in the distance. O'Neill cursed and raised his head higher to see what was happening when a staff blast flew past his head and impacted in the ground less than ten feet in front of him. He rolled onto his back and pointed his gun behind him just in time to see a bunch of Jaffa charging through the forest, from behind their positions. He fired his P-90 dropping two of the closest Jaffa and then scrambled upright, moving towards new cover. All around him, the Delta troopers were trying to re-orient on this new threat. His radio was filled with increasingly panicked calls...

"zzz...my god, they've outflanked us...."

"...coming up on your left, Jerry, fall back..."

"...for the love of...we're in it deep over here!..."

O'Neill spewed orders over the radio while firing his P90 at any Jaffa he could see. "All units, this is Spearhead-Six, pop smoke and fall back to 3rd Platoon's position!"

The smoke made fighting one confused mess but ambushers had become the ambushed and O'Neill and confusion works more for him at the minute and he needed as much confusion as possible if SG-Delta was going to survive the next ten minutes. Somehow, the Jaffa had stopped themselves from walking into a trap in their usual bumbling way and out flanked SG-Delta in their own pincer movement. Goddamn, it was a bad time for the Jaffa to get smart...

He watched the men of 2nd Squad throw several smoke grenades and then pick themselves up and swiftly move back through the jungle to Route Alpha, where 3rd Platoon waited. O'Neill released a smoke grenade of his own and loped off after them wondering how the hell they were gonna get out of this.

* * * * * * * * *

Colonel Colwell grunted slightly as he leapt clear over a fallen tree and landed on the other side with a roll, just as several staff blasts slammed into the tree behind him. Major Ortiz, who was ahead of him slightly, paused and spun round, firing off several quick bursts from his P90, which killed one Jaffa and sent several others diving for cover.

"Thanks, Ortiz..." The Colonel said as he jogged to catch up with his 2IC.

The Major shook his head slightly. "Murphy caught us good this time, Sir."

"Screw Murphy..." Colwell replied as they both threw smoke grenades towards the Jaffa and began running towards 3rd Platoon. A staff blast flew out of the smoke and hit one running Delta trooper in the back of the leg, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Colwell and Ortiz ran towards him and picked him from either side, dragging him through the forest while the Corporal clenched his team to stop himself from screaming as the massive wound in his leg sizzled with residual heat.


Five minutes later, SG-Delta had regrouped and was being hit on two sides. The Jaffa forces were being both fluid and circumspect in their movements, firing from cover and supporting each movement, as they kept the Delta troopers from breaking out.

Colwell made his way over to O'Neill, keeping low as the air was filled with staff blasts flying back and forth. He was sure that the Jaffa were hitting each other as much as they were hitting Delta, and they were hitting Delta hard enough as it was.

"General, we're in trouble, sir. We've got almost forty dead and at least twenty wounded, many of them seriously. We've got to break contact and get back to the ziggurat, it's the only defensible place on this godforsaken planet."

O'Neill nodded as he leaned back into cover as he pulled the empty clip from his P90 and reloaded with a fresh one. Their ammo situation was getting worse as well. "I agree, Colonel, but they've got us pinned down tight. It's like some of these guys have done basic training at Fort Bragg."

Colwell agreed. "They've been studying our moves, sir."

"Makes you all warm inside to know that they learned from the best..." O'Neill replied wryly.

He received a snort of disgust and amusement from Colwell who opened his mouth to reply when the sound of combat intensified noticeably behind them, from the other side of their positions. There was also an odd, new sound to the cacophony of weapons being fired.

As the pair moved towards the other side of the lines, Colwell snarled viciously. "This is it, they making a push..."

O'Neill shook his head. "I don't think so..." He replied, trailing off as they reached the line and looked out towards the Jaffa positions. The sounds of staff firing had intensified all right but the volume of shots coming towards Delta had tapered off considerably. Colwell had grabbed a pair of binoculars and was scanning the jungle intently as it lit up with the orange flashes of staff blasts but also flickers of green came from behind the Jaffa. Colwell zoomed in tight and managed to catch a glimpse of Karl, Shiv's second in command holding an unfamiliar silver rifle, firing intense green bolts of energy at the Jaffa.

Colwell turned to O'Neill. "Christ, it's a bunch of Shiv's men, sir...they attacking the Jaffa from the rear!"

O'Neill grinned. "Okay, Colonel, get everybody on this side of the lines to push forward, we'll remove these Jaffa in front of us and then double back and hit the bunch behind us. Hopefully that'll persuade them to back off."

"Aye, sir!" Colwell replied.

* * * * * * * * * *

Hek'at cursed once more as Bre'toc reported being overrun from behind by a new group, probably natives. The communication was cut short leaving Hek'at to guess that Bre'toc was dead. Hek'at had ignored the possibility of natives or that they could be a threat from the beginning and know it had come around and destroyed his entrapment of O'Neill and the Tau'ri forces.

They had almost crumbled, he thought, he had almost won and now it seems Bre'toc and the last of the 5th Cohort had been slaughtered. His chest felt hollow at his seeming inability to enact a victory over the Tau'ri. Cursing himself for his weakness, he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. The Tau'ri were gathering momentum with their reinforcements beginning to push his remaining men back. So be it. We've still cut off their access to the Chappa'ai, we'll fall back, regroup and chase them down like dogs.

The thought pleased him.






Chapter 5
The Road Home



22:00 ZULU
30/04/2003



O'Neill dunked a cup into the well bucket, filling it with water and drank deeply. Heavy combat always left him thirsty. He dunked the cup in once more and then poured it over his head. He was also very hot although the suns were now setting and the cool night air that flowed over him was a blessing.

Shiv was sitting on the edge of a table, his massive bulk making the wood creak in protest. His silver rifle lay on the table beside him, ready to grab in a moments notice. Since their return to the ziggurat, half of Delta was maintain a watch while the other half rested and saw to the wounded.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to get there," he said, "but I didn't want to commit my men in dribs and drabs. It took me a bit to get my men positioned for maximum effect."

Colwell grinned. "Relax, Shiv, you and your men did just fine. You sure you aren't military trained?"

Shiv chuckled. "Not hardly, although Karl over there served for a few years in his worlds Militia. I guess I might have picked some things up from him over the years."

All eyes turned to Karl who simply raised a hand in a negating gesture. "Yes, I commanded men in the Militia back home but all the military maneuvers on my world didn't stop the System Lords from bombing Teraskova from orbit. Hard to fight back when they hold the high ground."

Everybody nodded in somber agreement. O'Neill pulled back the Velcro cover on his wrist and looked at his watch. Colwell saw the gesture and swore softly. "I'd completely forgot."

A few looked at Colwell and O'Neill in slight confusion. O'Neill pointed to his watch. "We should be making contact with home right about now. Since we have no access to the Stargate, I give it about thirty minutes before Carter dials up and tries to contact us from her end."

A Corporal, who was sat on a bench at the table, scrunched his face up. "What good will does it do us, sir? Any of our guys coming through the Gate will get slaughtered and we sure as hell ain't gonna be able to fight past a couple of hundred Jaffa."

O'Neill nodded with all seriousness. "I got one word for you, Corporal. Paveway."


* * * * * * * * * * *


Carter sat next to Sgt Jenkins in the Spearhead Command Center, reading update reports on her PDA with her feet up on the desk.

Jenkins grunted softly. "They're five minutes overdue, Colonel."

Carter looked at the clock and shrugged slightly. "We'll give him another ten before I start getting nervous."

"Aye, ma'am." Jenkins replied.

She tried to smile internally but was unable as she was already worried. O'Neill wouldn't be late calling in unless he had real trouble on his hands.

The next ten minutes passed slowly and she gave up trying to finish the report when she had read the same line about five times. Her mind was already a few thousand light years away, hoping the General and SG-Delta was alright.

She grimaced and dropped her feet to the floor. "Okay, Sergeant, that's long enough. It's just like the General to make me pay for a phone call. Dial her up."

"Yes, ma'am. Dialing up P29-38D." Sgt Jenkins replied, his hands already tapping across the keyboard.

The Stargate rumbled as each chevron was activated and soon enough, the event horizon exploded outwards. It had hardly fallen back before Carter had grabbed the radio.

"Spearhead-Six, Spearhead-Six, this Spearhead-Command, do you read? Over."

The reply came back instantly. "We read you, Command. Over." Answered O'Neill.

Carter sighed. "Are you having problems, sir? Over."

They could hear his sigh drift back. "You have no idea, Carter."

He spent the next ten minutes filling her in on what had happened and then told her what he needed to happen next.




08:00 ZULU
01/05/2003


SHA-CHUNK!!

The heads of the Jaffa, just under two Cohorts worth, all whipped round to look at the engaging Chappa'ai. If any of the 3rd Platoon of SG-Delta, had seen this, they might have been amused at the irony evident in the Jaffa performing the same actions they had done the day before.

FFWOOSH!!

Hek'at grabbed his staff weapon and pointed it at the Chappa'ai. The last time it had open, late last night, nothing had come though. Hek'at assumed somebody was communicating with O'Neill through it. This time it quickly became apparent that something more was happening. The silver surface of the wormhole rippled and the one hundred and eighty Jaffa encamped around the Chappa'ai tensed; then a metal bird streaked out of the Chappa'ai and flew straight up into the sky. Whether by accident or by design, none of the Jaffa were able to get an accurate shot off due to the blinding glare of the twin suns. Several quick thinking Jaffa had activated their helmets so as to use their visual filters but they weren't quick enough for the metal bird had flew out of range of their staff weapons by the time they were ready.

Unable to destroy the bird, they retrained their weapons on the Chappa'ai, waiting for something else to show itself. For several long minutes, nothing happened and Hek'at was on the verge of relaxing a notch when the wormhole rippled once more but instead of a person or a metal bird, a stream of bullets poured out of the wormhole, looking more like a laser beam in its intensity. It angled across a dozen Jaffa, for all intents and purposes, cutting them in half. The Jaffa all dived for cover from the unerring accuracy of the fire. It came out of the wormhole in short bursts and blew straight through some of the cover the Jaffa were using, in some cases, felling entire trees.

* * * * * * * * *

Carter smiled grimly as she studied the tactical displays from the U.A.V and designated several Jaffa that were moving up behind cover.

In the Stargate embarkation facility, the Paveway system was sat in front of the Stargate, blazing away for all it was worth. The technicians stood behind the cannons, slightly bemused by the situation as they watched the two M60's and the two GAU-8 30mm gatling guns swivel sharply in small arcs and let loose streams of fire that flew into the event horizon, travel several thousand light years and then exit on the other side, to hit a target you could only see in the Command Center half a mile away.

The only thing the techs had to do was make sure the auto feeders didn't jam.

* * * * * * * * *

Hek'at loosed another curse. How the hell were they aiming? How could they see their targets? As soon as a Jaffa raised his head to fire, the stream of bullets blew that same head apart. His guts suddenly clenched as the answer hit him with almost physical force...the metal bird! Bast mentioned that her analysis of several damaged ones they had recovered revealed a whole host of sensors and recording devices inside it. They could see everything from up there. And he had no way of bringing it down.

Bullets suddenly ricocheted off the tree trunk above his head, spraying him in splinters. He spun round, weapon at the ready, to see the Tau'ri troopers advancing rapidly through the trees. Hek'at almost admired their tactic of being a hammer against the anvil of the deadly weapons fire coming through the Devil cursed Chappa'ai, admired it enough to see that it was killing his men and would kill all of them if he didn't pull out.

"Jaffa, Kree!! He shouted. "Dri'ac! Kree!"

His Jaffa had now been reduced by almost half, completely stunned by the amount of fire coming through the wormhole. They pulled away in opposite directions, squeezed out from between the Chappa'ai and the Tau'ri like so much soap.

* * * * * * * * *

O'Neill and the troops of SG-Delta ran forward, screaming like madmen. They were pushing the Jaffa back completely. They burst into the clearing in time to see the stragglers of Jaffa running into the jungle to either side of the Stargate.

Carter had been monitoring the retreat from the U.A.V and realized that the Paveway system had no more valid targets. "General, our scopes are clear. We are disengaging the wormhole so you can dial home, over and out."

As the wormhole dissolved, troops ran in a line to either side of the Stargate, forming a channel, allowing the General to dial up and get the wounded and Shiv's people through while they scanned the forest for Jaffa.

O'Neill made the dial in sequence in record time and the Stargate burst into life. Typing into his GDO, he looked up at Shiv who had his rifle up tight to his shoulder and was scanning the jungle. "Let's get your people through..."

Shiv nodded and looked at Karl who was still stood in the tree line, holding back with the rest of the Family as Delta secured the area. Shiv gestured for Karl to get everyone moving.

For the next ten minutes, a steady stream of men, women and children poured through the wormhole and back to Spearhead. After the final civilian was through, Colwell signaled for his men to pull back. Their formation collapsed in on itself as the remaining few of Delta climbed the base of the Stargate and stepped through.

Almost as soon as Colonel Colwell stepped through the wormhole, it disengaged.

Silence returned to the jungle.


10:00 ZULU
01/05/2003

Hek'at sat down wearily on a large rock that was embedded in the jungle floor near the DHD, the rock scorched in numerous places from the massive firefights it had seen in the clearing surrounding the Chappa'ai.

O'Neill had escaped. Again. The man led a charmed life. As Hek'at looked around the clearing, his few remaining Jaffa, little more than half a Cohort, were moving around, looking over the dead Tau'ri soldiers left behind. Yes, he had extracted a blood price from O'Neill. He could call this a victory. Oh, he hadn't achieved the objective of killing O'Neill but he had proved to his satisfaction that his Jaffa were markedly improved soldiers with the new training learned from observing the Tau'ri in combat. Yes, today they had lost a battle but it had been a loss between almost equals. One day, O'Neill, my Jaffa will be as skilled as yours and then you will lose the war. Oh, yes, you will most definitely lose the war.

Hek'at stood up and turned to the DHD. It was time he went home. Maybe Bast could learn something from the Tau'ri bodies that would prove useful.

16:00 ZULU
02/05/2003


The events back at Spearhead had not been pretty. They had gone out with a full team, anticipating a simple mission with little in the way of complications. Instead they had been attacked, outmaneuvered and taken almost thirty-five per cent casualties. Although the Jaffa were still babes in the wood when it came to warfare Earth-style, they were apparently beginning to learn.

When O'Neill had learned about Apophis being killed by Bast, he thought it a delicious irony and mourned the loss not at all. Not he was almost wished for Apophis back. He might have been a sadistic, egotistical murderer but he was dumb and he wasn't all that hard to outsmart and outfight. Now, Bast was in charge. She was far smarter than Apophis and now, truly for the first time, remembering how the Jaffa nearly slaughtered all of them, he realized that she was more dangerous than all the System Lords they had faced put together.

With the heavy casualties SG-Delta had taken, Colonel Colwell and his people were rotated off the line and headed back to Earth for recuperation while they absorbed a new batch of recruits to fill out their numbers.

After the Family had gotten settled into Spearhead, General Hammond has asked the Spearhead Command team to return to Earth for a debriefing. After they had arrived, they had gone through the motions of a debriefing for a while until Hammond had admitted that he had brought them back for a short break. While the Assault teams were rotated so that two were on active duty and the rest were stood down, this didn't allow for the Command staff to have a chance to relax.

So here they were, together in Jack's living room, drinking and laughing and fondly remembering the good old days. O'Neill and Daniel were sat in the couch, Carter and Janet were sitting on the floor with a bowl of popcorn between them, Hammond was sat in one chair with a fatherly expression on his face and Teal'c was sitting in another chair holding the TV remote, flicking through the various channels.

O'Neill had a Samuel Adams in one hand and was gesturing madly with the other, regaling everybody some of Carter's more embarrassing moments as she blushed deeply and squirmed on the floor. "...So there she was, right in the middle of a hundred or so natives of P3X-585 completely..."

"We bring you the final results of the Presidential election..."

Jack stopped talking as all eyes flickered to the television. They had completely forgotten about the election, what with all the action of late. He, and he was sure everyone else, felt a cold lump in the pit of his gut.

"The Republican nominee has won the Presidential election, having 76 per cent of the vote! It is with great pleasure that I announce that Senator Robert Kinsey is named the new President of the United States!"

Silence reigned as everyone digested the enormity of what they had just heard.

O'Neill slowly placed his beer on the table, never taking his eyes off the TV as it showed Kinsey's smiling face, hands waving madly above his head, lit by a thousand flashing camera lights.

"Aww hell..."



The End

End notes:

Well, I hope you enjoyed it, twists and none-too-subtle plot developments all. I'll work on my subtlety. : )

I feel I have to apologise once again for taking so long. I initially started this project with the dream of cranking out the stories at a decent pace. Well, as I'm sure I've mentioned in one or two of my stories; no plan survives contact with the enemy.

I won't promise to be more on time cause it's daft to make a promise I might not be able to keep but I am aiming to have Homefront pt1 and pt2 completed before Christmas and I will make every effort, to the point of ignoring some people (you know who you are...) to get the work done.

I DO PROMISE to finish the timeline at the very least. The Spearhead Saga will be complete or I will gladly lay down my life in forfeit. And knowing one or two more rabid followers of Spearhead, I'm not likely to live long if I did abandon the project.

I have had a request to be able to write their own fiction about Spearhead, using my characters. This request made me very proud of what I had written and I have no qualms about letting people do so at all, although ego compels me to ask that they at least mention me in some small way. Any stories that I find work well within the Spearhead canon I have created to date I would very much like to add to my site, giving complete acknowledgement to the writer for their contribution.

Any comments, queries or slander, feel free to send them my way...

Y'all know the address; it's a.seivewright@btinternet.com

Yeahsureyabetcha!