Set before the 1994 movie, definitely a prequel, set in the Stargate SG-1 universe. Warning: contains some harsh language, violence on minors, and teen pregnancy.

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Space was an empty uninviting place that could never be home, especially in an alkesh that was designed only for fighting and carrying troops. Six refugees had taken the ship. They had never seen anything so magical before, and the herbalist they had brought with them, Janala very nearly believed Ra to be a god once again. What could they expect? Their best and mightiest weapons were the crossbows that their artisans made for hunting. They knew nothing of these flying devices. It took all of Rodmalga's understanding to remind Janala that this ship was not magical and Ra was no god.

Aylala remembered the day they stole it as clearly as it was yesterday. She was the youngest of group, only twelve, but she had bled just a year before, and as per the tribe's tradition, she walked the path after bleeding six times, and now she was a woman of the tribe, but they hadn't chosen her to join them because she was particularly skilled, and indeed, she was as good a fighter as Rodmalga, but because of her mind. She could not forget, a talent that had attracted Ra's attention, and she became one of his favorite Chess opponents.

Ra would often brag before his Jaffa that she was the only human that he could not beat. His ship would come once a year for the supply of the mineral Ra forced Aylala's people to mine in the hills. He would spend a month and would demand that Aylala come and replace his regular Chess opponents. He played her several times a day, never winning and would smile with glee. Losing was a novelty to a creature as ancient as Ra.

One day, Aylala had said, "You don't like to lose. Why do you enjoy it when I win?"

Ra smiled. "My dear, you have a rare mind. It is not losing I enjoy; it is seeing you succeed and outdo yourself, one who could become one of my greatest servants. Would you like that?"

"No," said Aylala flatly.

"You do not like me, do you?"

"I hate you." She could feel the angry glare from Ra's first prime. How dare she show such insolence! Yet, for some reason, Ra tolerated it from her.

"Why do you hate me?"

"You make us into cattle, and everyone goes from day to day, with no will to live, except only to survive."

"I protect you."

"And we starve."

"I educate you."

"And we still cannot find what we need to make it from day to day."

Ra seemed to enjoy these displays of insolence as much his Chess matches, and he would engage her in such discourse every time they played. He would ask her hypothetical questions about his rule, would often ask for a detailed expression of her hatred. She soon realized that he was testing her logic, making her think about her answers. Then she learned to her horror that Ra was grooming her to be the host to his next daughter.

"You will be the first of my children in a thousand years truly worthy of being a god." He looked at the other children around him in contempt, and Aylala realized with disgust that they were all like him. They were his children, possessed by these parasitic false gods. That was when she fled. Five had agreed to accompany her and to keep her safe from the despot—despot was one of her favorite things to call Ra whenever he asked.

They did not know how to work the alkesh, but one way or another, Aylala was not going to be Ra's daughter. She had chosen to leave her jungle home behind rather than suffer that fate, so in the dead of night, they had managed to gain access to the alkesh without the Jaffa noticing. They didn't have long, but as long as nobody checked the alkesh, nobody would notice their presence, so Aylala did what she was best at, she found anything she could read, and she studied it. Ra had outlawed reading and writing, but it was a law that could not be enforced and Aylala quickly discovered that the crystal on the right side of the console was an operator's manual.

There was no immediate pursuit. Ra and his soldiers were licentious creatures, unaccustomed to such bold displays of disobedience. Their response was slow, and Aylala smiled as she imagined Ra's rage at his Jaffa's incompetence. Her smile dissipated as she realized that Ra would probably take it out on the villagers. There was nothing to be done about that now. If she went back, her cohorts would be killed and she would suffer a fate worse than death as Ra's daughter and likely his protégé. He seemed to think that she had much greater potential than his other children.

For two years, Aylala now fourteen, Ra's Jaffa had pursued them from planet to planet. There was no safe haven for them. Over the years, Aylala had taught everyone else how to operate the ship, but that couldn't prepare them for the inevitable fight in space. Eventually, the lo'tek that Ra had sent after them had caught up with them. It was superior, but Aylala and her crew weren't going to give up without a fight. Samrenga was best with the weapons, so he, in addition to Empalga were charged with fighting them off, if possible.

In Washington, D. C., a middle aged man sipped coffee while sitting in front of computer monitor. His work station looked like the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, or mission control in NASA, but this really had to be most boring job in the world, unless one counted "tollbooth attendant". To his right was a radar screen, to his left was a satellite picture, and in the middle was a screen that scrolled readouts of activity, mostly transcripts of communications chatter from airports and U. S. airbases. An alert line came out in red: "Unidentified craft outside registered flight path". It gave a series to coordinates of all known locations and projected path. The initial contact was over Greenland and it was now directly over Washington in the span of about…that couldn't be right. That thing had to be moving at MACH 9 to get that far that fast. Nothing on Earth moved that fast. He considered that a moment.

He called out to his supervisor, "Hey, Jan, are there any space shuttle missions I don't know about?"

She called back, "Not for another month that I know of. Why?"

"Something just came out of the stratosphere moving at 10,000 miles per hour. It shot over us just now."

Jan's eyebrows moved together and she said, "Point a radio antenna at it. See if it talks back."

On the alkesh, they had no chance. In a system with nine planets, their ship finally failed them. Aylala barely managed to steer the craft toward the only inhabitable planet in the system, the third from the sun, but the lo'tek was in hot pursuit. As the blue planet loomed in the distance, their only luck struck when Samrenga managed to disable the lo'tek's engines, putting them in the same situation. Then something happened that Aylala didn't quite expect.

The speakers crackled and someone spoke in an unknown language. "This is air traffic control to unidentified craft. There is no craft registered on your current course. Please identify yourself."

Aylala had never heard the speakers talk before. The Jaffa certainly didn't bother to contact them. The voice repeated the message. Aylala consulted the operator's manual, and activated the communications device. She addressed them the best she could, but to no avail. They could understand her no more than she could understand them. She wanted to tell them that she they were crashing. She wanted advice. This man must have some knowledge that she could use to get out of this. She began to cry for help repeatedly.

She heard over the speaker, as if the man was speaking to someone else, "I can't understand a word she's saying, but I think she's calling a 'mayday'."

A new voice, came over the speakers, this time belonging to a woman. "Unidentified craft, what is your situation?"

Aylala cast about helplessly. She consulted the operator's manual again, and not sure if it would work, activated the translation function. "Help!" she called.

"Repeat: what is your situation." Aylala couldn't believe it. She could understand the woman.

"We're crashing!" Indeed, by now the ship was shaking intolerably, virtually everything in it producing a deafening rattle.

"We're about to lose you on radar. Can you tell us your exact trajectory?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I don't know where I am."

"Please, just stay calm. Fasten yourself into your seat and have your passengers do the same." Aylala did as she was told, her crew following suit. "Now, do you have any control over the craft?"

"A little."

"On the angle of your trajectory, I want you to level the craft with the ground the best that you can, trying to keep the nose angled a little bit up."

"The controls are very hard."

"Pull as hard as you can. You have to get your nose up." After another moment, she said, "We're about to lose sight of you. Once you're down, stay where you are. Rescue services will be there momentarily."

Just seconds later, they slammed into the ground. The hull beneath them screeched and grinded dreadfully. Machinery and controls broke loose around them. When everything stopped, Aylala looked around, shaken, afraid of what she might see. There was no doubt that the voice in the speaker saved all of their lives with her advice. Still, she wasn't so sure about waiting for strangers to find them. Who would they serve, and what would they do when they found them? She supposed they would rescue them, as the term "rescue services" implied, but then what? Would they deliver them to servants of Ra?

As for Jan, she was busy trying to locate the craft that had just left the monitors. They had been able to calculate its landing point as somewhere in the east part of Missouri. That part of the nation was largely rural, but it had several large metropolitan areas. She could only hope that it didn't go down in downtown St. Louis or Jefferson City.

"It came out of nowhere," said the operator that had initially contacted the craft. "Satellites picked it up at an extremely high altitude."

"Any idea what it was?"

"We didn't get any visual. It was moving way too fast. What we did get suggested it was the size of a medium passenger airplane."

"Angle of trajectory?"

"It came out of the north over Greenland, so high it was almost suborbital. It was moving like a bullet and literally screamed over us. I don't see how anyone could survive a crash at the speed that thing was moving."

An analyst approached with a printout. "We've narrowed it down. It went down within thirty miles of Springfield, Missouri. A report on a crash in that area came through about five minutes ago."

Jan simply shook her head. "From Greenland to Missouri in fifteen minutes; damn right it was screaming. That sounds like a call to the Air Force."

"English definitely wasn't her first language," said the operator.

Reports started coming through regarding a UFO crash in the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri, twenty miles due west of Rolla. "That would put it right in the Springfield area."

The analyst said, "Rescue services found the craft intact, two bodies, both male, and evidence of a fire fight. 'The craft is of an unknown type, with equipment unlike any we have ever seen. Weapons fire was heard during approach to site. Second craft found crashed of similar design two miles due north of initial crash sight."

Jan said, "This is getting out of hand, fast. Get me General West's office."

In the Mark Twain National Forest, Aylala ran as she and the survivors separated, trying to throw the Jaffa off. These woods were not like the jungle she was accustomed to. There were unexpected hazards here. She was trying to cover her trail, but with the terrain so different, she wasn't sure was entirely successful. Leaves and twigs blanketed the ground making it impossible for her not to break something with her footfall. Even hardened soldiers might not see the tracks, but she had no doubt that at least one of the Jaffa hunting her was an experienced tracker. She made a silent prayer to find a river or a stream. Then she could work her way upstream a bit of a distance and throw the trail off that way.

As she ran, she ran across the path of a black snake. Having disturbed it, the snake coiled and struck violently. Aylala's reflexes were extremely fast, but even she was surprised when she caught the snake by its head, her thumb and forefinger properly holding the hinge of the jaws. She took a moment to examine the snake. It was a viper, likely very venomous. When its mouth was open, it appeared to be filled with cotton.

A Jaffa appeared in the woods behind her. He seemed surprised to find her. He aimed his zat'niq'tal and ordered her to surrender. She simply tossed the snake at him, which obliged by biting him on the hand. He dropped the zat'niq'tal to fend off the cotton mouth. The venom worked so rapidly that he became too concerned with his wound to pay attention to Aylala, who picked up the zat'niq'tal. She decided not to fire it and thus alert other Jaffa to her position. Instead, she attacked with a flurry of kicks that quickly incapacity the Jaffa, and knocked him unconscious. Her age did not matter. Ra would learn not to underestimate her.

The snake had clearly forgotten his ire and slithered off. Aylala continued her flight, now armed. She kept her eye open for a river or a creek. There had to be one nearby. That snake was of a kind that was most at home underwater. She didn't find a water way, but she found something that could work just as well. There was a strange black rock that stretched from east to west. It was apparent that it was a road, but what was this material that covered it? Whatever it was, it would not reveal footprints.

She ran along it for as long as she dared to be exposed. There was no activity along the road. There was silence all around, and when the birds fell silent, she quickly crossed and hid in the underbrush on the other side. From her hiding place, she could see two Jaffa step onto the road. They didn't see where she had hidden, but they had obviously spotted her on the road. Something caught their attention on the road. A strange humming grew louder and fell silent as some kind of self-propelled carriage drew to a halt. It was white with blue markings and it briefly made a whooping noise; clearly some kind of alarm.

A man stepped out of one side first, then a woman stepped out of the other side. They were uniformed and the woman had her hand on some kind of a weapon holstered at her hip. Her other hand held a device to her mouth and she was talking into it. The man was tall with closely cut black hair. His uniform was khaki brown and his pants were dark brown with a khaki stripe on each side. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms. His shirt was short sleeved. He wore metal badge in the shape of a shield on his chest. He wore a hat with a flat brim that went all the way around. There was an identical badge on the front of it. The woman was in identical clothing, minus the hat. She was significantly smaller, her shoulders narrow, and she was two heads shorter than the man. She had red hair cut in in a bob. She was in her early to mid-thirties. Among the Jaffa was Ra's first prime. He was watching the woman closely. She wasn't underestimating him so he wasn't underestimating her.

The uniformed man spoke. "Halloween isn't for a few months yet, is it?" He took a few steps and the junior Jaffa raised his staff weapon.

"No," said the first prime, "the female has already alerted others. Battling them would be a tactical error."

The woman was now alert to the staff weapon, though it must not have looked real to her, otherwise she'd have drawn her weapon. Aylala could see that she was on edge. If the Jaffa had actually pointed it at either of them, real or not, she most certainly would have had that weapon drawn and aimed.

"What language is that?" she asked. "Sound's Middle Eastern."

"Egyptian," said the first prime, now speaking the officer's language. "Forgive my friend. He does not speak English. We were at a costume party and I'm afraid we went out and got lost."

Aylala didn't know what they were saying, but the woman seemed to ease up, though she didn't take her hand from her sidearm. The woman said, "Gentlemen, you're miles from anywhere. Closest town is Pilot Knob. Only eight people live there and ain't any of them likely to throw a masquerade." The woman's accent was so heavy that even without understanding what she was saying Aylala could tell it was rustic.

"Well, we did go out last night. I realized we were in trouble when the sun came up, so we went looking for a road. We're lucky we found you."

She nodded. "Gentlemen, could we please step off the road? Truckers barrel down here like there ain't no speed limit." As everyone stepped in front of the vehicle on the shoulder of the road, the woman asked, "Where you boys trying to get to?"

The first prime said, "We aren't from around here. We really just need to get into town."

"Do you have any identification?"

"We did not know we needed identification."

The woman looked at the first prime, eyebrows raised. "You didn't know?"

"If you were from round hereabouts, that wouldn't be a problem, but you ain't, so guess what, gentlemen; we got a problem." The woman had a look on her face that Aylala had seen on many Jaffa catching someone in a lie. "You got a passport?"

"I'm sorry, Officer, I…"

The woman's weapon was out so fast, Aylala could scarcely see her move. "Put those things down and step over to the car."

The younger Jaffa was looking over to his first prime for instructions. The first prime said, "Officer, these are harmless toys."

"Drop them." These men were not reacting the way simple socialites acted when faced with a weapon. They were unwilling to relinquish what they said were harmless toys, and rather than follow instructions, they were conferring with each other. The male officer now had his weapon drawn too. The woman said, "Drop them and get on the ground."

The first prime nodded at the junior officer. The first prime rolled to the right, drawing the male officer's attention, but the woman wasn't falling for it. Rather than follow the first prime, she kept her sights on the junior and stepped back putting the vehicle between her and the first prime. The junior knowing he was still in danger rolled into the street and brought his staff weapon up. The bolt of energy missed the woman's head by inches, striking the side of the vehicle above the front fender. Another staff weapon blast from the other side of the car heralded the death of the male officer who flew clear over the vehicle and landed on the other side.

Opening fire on the junior, her bullets bounced off of his armor. "Some costumes," she said derisively. She fired off several more rounds, the Jaffa rolling clear so that his exposed flesh was not hit. She threw the weapon at him and used the distraction to go hand to hand. The first prime watched the fight with interest, then raised his staff weapon to kill the woman. Aylala raised the zat'niq'tal and fired on the first prime, striking him squarely. The other Jaffa pulled a dagger and struck the woman, though Aylala couldn't see where. To her credit, she didn't cry out, and didn't release her grip on the warrior.

Aylala stepped out and picked up one of the staff weapons. Leveling it at the two combatants, she shouted, "Jaffa, kree!"

They both stopped and looked up at her. The Jaffa raised his hands and came to his feet. Now that she had him, she didn't know what to do with him. She cast about, trying to think of something, anything. She looked at the officer and realized that she was carrying restraints. She took one hand off the staff weapon, pointed to them, and back to the Jaffa. Blood was running down the woman's arm, and when she turned, having understood Aylala's message, it became clear that the Jaffa's dagger was lodged in her shoulder. She still had use of the hand, but couldn't raise the arm.

He kicked out fast, hitting her in the stomach and knocking her to the ground. He drew a dagger lunged at Aylala. It was an act of suicide. He only attacked because he couldn't stand the idea of being captured. Still, Aylala had no choice, firing the staff into his chest. The officer stood up, and looked at Aylala. Aylala let the staff weapon drop to the ground.

The woman said, "Are you alright, kid?"

Aylala didn't understand. She simply pointed at the first prime.

"What? You shot him, too."

Aylala simply reached and grabbed the cuffs. The officer tried to stop her, but Aylala was simply too fast, and once the officer realized she wasn't attacking let Aylala continue as she cuffed the first prime.

"You mean he's still alive."

Aylala said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand you."

The woman found her language incomprehensible. She pointed to the Jaffa and said, "Dead." She put her hand on her chest and said, "Alive." She pointed at the first prime.

Aylala said, "Alive."

"Good to know." She reached around and touched the hilt of the dagger. It was easy to see that she was resisting the urge to pull it out of her shoulder. Pulling her hand back, she reached down and with her one good hand, dragged the first prime to the hood of the vehicle. She slammed him face down and searched him, finding a zat'niq'tal. Turning him over, she found two daggers. Her rough handling woke him up.

"It seems I have been captured," he said.

"You, sir, are under arrest for murder, two counts of assaulting a police officer, assault with a deadly weapon, assault with intent to kill, assault and battery, murder of a police officer, traveling without a passport, resisting arrest, obstruction of justice, and I'll have to think of a few more."

The first prime laughed. "So many charges for a single offence."

"We call it stacking. It's what we cops do when we want to make sure your punk ass gets nailed."

"And what about her?"

"What about her? She was acting in defense of a police officer and self-defense." She pulled her radio out and when it dangled from her hand in pieces she threw aside. "Dammit, you guys trashed my radio. That's another charge: destruction of police property." She checked her fallen partner's radio. "Two counts." She checked the radio in the car and threw it. "No power. That shot must have hit the battery. Oh well, someone will be along when we don't check in."

Only now that the first prime was secured, did she see to her wound. She pulled a blue box with a white cross emblazoned upon it from the vehicle and opened it. She pulled out a thick pad of cotton. She pulled the dagger out, grimacing in pain. Dropping it to the ground, she took off her uniform shirt, revealing the black body armor underneath and exposing her shoulder. She put the cotton pad on her shoulder. It was only when she sat on the hood of the car that she noticed Aylala's anxiety. She started talking to the first prime, becoming more and more agitated.

"What's she on about?" asked the officer.

The first prime simply smiled at her. Aylala started peppering him with commands, the same thing over and over. She picked up one of the staff weapons and aimed it at him.

"Whoa! No need for that," said the officer. "Boy, you tell me what she's on about."

The first prime sighed and said, "She is insisting that I alert you to the fact that I have many more men combing this forest and that they likely already know we are here."

"Damn." She pulled a set of keys from the column inside the vehicle and took them to the back compartment. Having removed the dagger, she regained some use of her shoulder. Opening the trunk, she pulled out another weapon like the one she had before, except much longer with a two foot barrel and a shoulder stock. Aiming it at the first prime, she said, "Up."

The first prime stood with only a little of his balance, unable to use his hands as leverage as they were shackled behind his back. "I wonder," he said, "why do you not disarm her?"

"I'd be dead if she wasn't armed. Now move." She threw her uniform shirt over her uninjured shoulder and gestured with the shotgun. They began moving along the road in the direction she indicated.

They needn't have been concerned. As the officer had anticipated, another cruiser had arrived just minutes later wondering about its missing patrol vehicle. The Jaffa had been under strict orders to avoid Earth's law enforcement. Two uniformed men stepped from the vehicle, appearing about the same size and demeanor as the dead officer up the road, although their hair was cut so closely it was difficult to tell the color.

The driver said, "What have we got, Carol?" He took in the sight of the bloody police woman, a young girl dressed in what appeared to be animal skins holding a strange weapon, and the restrained Jaffa warrior.

"Cop-killer. He and a buddy killed my partner and in the fight, the squad car got trashed. His buddy was gonna kill me, but my new friend here nailed him. They're up the road maybe quarter of a mile. Our cop-killer says there's more goons in the woods. Apparently, they're chasing this girl. Can't see why they'd need the hardware they got for a kid."

The first prime said, "If it's of any consolation, I had hoped—"

"Hey!" said the other officer. "Nobody wants to hear from you."

"I apologize." He said nothing further.

The officer looked to Aylala and said, "What's your name kid."

The first prime laughed and Carol said, "Yeah, Mike, there's a problem. She don't speak English."

"Comment te llamas?"

"Tried it. She don't speak Spanish either. No French and no German. Those're the ones I know."

"Name," said Aylala.

Carol looked at her and said, "Name." Carol pointed at herself and said, "Carol."

"Aylala."

"You sure learn fast, Aylala."

"She is special," said the first prime. "Our orders were to return with her at any cost. Our lord values her highly."

Mike said, "Yeah, well, your lord ain't getting her." Mike grabbed the first prime and shoved him into the back of a squad car.

Then, they waited as more police cars arrived. They blocked off the roads coming through this particular section. In twenty minutes, a large flying machine, a helicopter, white with bright red markings arrived landing in the middle of the road. Men exited the vehicle with a gurney. They treated Carol's wound. She insisted that she didn't need an ambulance assured them that she would go straight to a hospital to have the broken bones in her shoulder treated.

Not far up the road, a military convoy made its way to the scene. They were en route to the crash site, a small team of military personnel having already secured both vehicles. What they had found had been startling to say the least. Colonel Jack O'Neill had heard of government taking possession of downed UFO's but this would be his first time directing the recovery of one. They drove along State Route BB surrounded by forest. With the exception of Rolla, Springfield, and a few tiny towns, there was no civilization for miles around. It reminded Jack of the base in Creek Mountain where he worked.

It had been four hours since the crash. When it happened Jack had had to immediately take a jet to Lambert in St. Louis. He had hated that. Lambert was a civilian airport catering to the Air Force. The crowds and the civilian traffic had made a quick dispatch from there highly impractical. This would have gone more quickly if he had simply gone to Scott Air Base on the other side of the river in Illinois. It wasn't that much farther from Rolla than Lambert. Still, they had made good time. Then he saw the road block.

The convoy came to a halt, and Major Charles Kawalsky said, "What the hell is this?" Kawalsky took the truck out of gear, came to a stop and put the parking brake on.

Jack said, "Well, let's find out what the holdup is."

Jack and Kawalsky both jumped from the truck, made sure their uniforms were up to code, Jack having to adjust his beret, and they approached the roadblock. These were Missouri State Troopers and Jack noted that all four officers carried themselves like military. The officer in charge, a lieutenant, approached Jack.

"Gentlemen," said Jack, "we've got to have this road clear."

The officer said, "You're heading up to the crash, right? We had an incident on this stretch about an hour ago. We've got a medevac in the road right now and we can't open it until they leave."

"A medevac? What's wrong with an ambulance?"

"No hospitals nearby. Ambulances can't get down here fast enough in an emergency and all the fire departments are dealing with the crash. I'll call ahead and let them know you're waiting but if there's still an emergency, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. Lives come first."

"Ah, son of a..."

Kawalsky said, "Can you at least tell us what's happening?"

The officer said, "I don't know all the details, but I do know we've got armed men running around the woods. Some of our men flushed one of them out and they reported that he fired a weapon straight out of Star Trek. Apparently, this all started when two of these boys killed one of our officers and knifed another in the shoulder. She managed to apprehend one of them and we've got him sitting in a squad car now. We got a couple of the weapons they're using. We've never seen anything like it, not even on Star Trek."

Jack and Kawalsky traded glances. Jack said, "Can we have a word with this gentleman?"

Aylala was sitting in the back of a squad car next to Carol with a blanket wrapped around her. The paramedics had managed to procure some hot chocolate and the young girl was enjoying her very first mug of the sweet beverage.

Carol said, "You know, I have boy about your age. He plays in the school band." Aylala looked up with curious eyes. "You don't understand a thing I'm saying. That's okay. We can work on that. Get you some proper clothes and as soon as we get this all straightened out, we can found out where you belong."

Carol looked out the window and saw two men armed with M-16s and an automatic weapon she didn't recognize in full military gear talking to her suspect. "Stay here," she said, and gestured, holding her palm flat and downturned. Aylala nodded her understanding. With her good arm, Carol opened the door and stepped out to greet the military officers. Approaching them, she could see from their markings that one was a colonel and the other was a major. The major noticed her first and took a defensive posture.

"I'm Sergeant Carol Lawrence with the Missouri State Highway Patrol. Can I help you?"

The Colonel said, "Colonel Jack O'Neill, U. S. Air Force. This is Major Charles Kawalsky. You're the one who took the knife in the shoulder, Sergeant?"

"What gave it away; the sling on my arm?"

"Good work nailing this guy. Is he usually this talkative?"

"He is not a forthcoming fellow. We can't even tell how many there are, but there seems to be more than one."

Colonel O'Neill picked up one of the weapons sitting on the hood of the car. It was the large staff weapon that Aylala had been carrying. "It's got some good weight to it. Could probably use it as a cudgel."

Carol nodded. "If you do, use the stock end. It sends some kind of electrical charge out when you hit something with it. One of our officers figured that out hitting our suspect with it when he tried to take it. That ain't the neatest thing it does though. Aim at that tree and squeeze that hand grip in the middle." Jack did as he was told. The end of the staff weapon opened up and he could see it glowing. "Now squeeze it again."

A bolt of energy left the staff weapon so hard that it nearly knocked Jack off his feet. The side of the tree exploded showering splinters in all directions. Several policemen appeared, startled with their weapons drawn. With Carol's reassurances, they reluctantly holstered their weapons and returned to what they were doing.

"Now that's impressive," said Kawalsky.

Carol said, "I know I want one. I bet that bad boy would stop a riot right fast. It ain't very practical, though. It don't aim worth a damn. If you ain't never shot before, you won't hit the broad side of a barn with it."

Jack said, "I noticed. The recoil isn't too bad. I just wasn't expecting it. The thing is, it jerks really hard to the side when you fire."

"I guess you boys are going to take charge of this stuff. I'm almost willing to bet it came from that crash. I still need my evidence though. One of those is a murder weapon."

Jack said, "Then you're probably mad I handled it."

"Nah, we already lifted prints, but we still need ballistics."

Jack nodded and put the staff weapon back down. "Is the body of the other suspect still here?"

Carol shook her head. "Coroner already left with the body, but it shouldn't be any trouble getting the medical examiner to let you see it."

Jack nodded and said, "Kawalsky, let's take a walk."

As they walked off talking in undertones, Carol leaned against the patrol car and looked down at the first prime, who was sitting calmly, seemingly unconcerned about his predicament. Carol saw Mike and waved him over.

"Yeah, Carol?"

Carol didn't take her eyes from the receding forms of Colonel O'Neill and Major Kawalsky. "Take one of those staff weapons and get ballistics off of it now. I got a funny feeling they're about to grow legs."

Mike turned to look in the direction Carol was. "The Air Force?"

"Do you need to ask? I'm not even sure our boy's gonna be in our custody for very long. I want all our ducks lined up before these guys take charge. Are we on the same page?"

"With a bookmark and notations." Mike immediately grabbed the staff weapon that O'Neill was testing and called over another officer. They left in the other officer's squad car with the staff weapon.

Carol noticed that O'Neill had been watching. This would not be their last encounter; of that she was certain. They were able to reopen the road after another fifteen minutes and it was another hour before they were able to leave. Police organized a search through the forest, with the Air Force eager to help, for the rest of the armed men. Once they arrived at the station in Farmington, the question came to Aylala.

Her fingerprints came up negative. There were no missing persons reports in any foreign countries matching her description. She didn't look Persian, but she could have been. Her long hair was dark brown, her skin was pale, and her eyes were brilliant green. She was thirteen or fourteen and she was small for her age, though her body was very well developed. If she was from that region, that might be a long and arduous search. The question was ultimately what should be done with her while they looked for her parents or wherever she belonged. Nobody wanted to remand her to state custody. The DCFS juvenile detention was as bad as prison and everyone at the station agreed that was the last thing a traumatized young girl needed.

When Carol finally returned from the hospital, her shoulder immobilized in a splint, she offered to take temporary custody of Aylala in the meantime. The station chief, Captain Richard Crowe discussed the interesting nature of the case with her.

"I note here that you didn't tell Colonel O'Neill about this girl and her relation to the case," he said.

Carol shook her head. "Damn right, and I hope you don't. You know what's going on here. Nobody on Earth has weapons like this and that girl's language? I know we're in the boonies down here, but _somebody_ has got to recognize it."

"Then you believe the reports?"

"I do."

The Captain looked into his file folder for a full minute.

"Sir?"

He looked up at her, back down in his file folder, then said, "I agree. There's no reason they need to know about her if they don't ask. They've already asked for the weapons we acquired. What should I tell them?"

"We've already got the ballistics we need. I ain't interested in stealing super-duper alien stuff. I just want the collar on that creep."

"Then we'll go ahead and relinquish control. That should make Colonel O'Neill happy. He was expecting us to stall." He closed all his files, put them together, tapped them on the desk and put them in a drawer. "Major Deland's family still has to be notified."

"I'd like to do that in person, sir. They live in Chesterfield. It's on my way home."

The Captain smiled and nodded.

"About that, sir. I want to talk about my assignment down here. It's a three hour drive each way and then I've got a ten hour shift. It's murder. Honestly."

"I know. You bring it up every chance you get. Believe me, I understand completely. I've had to do it too when I was on patrol and I know it's Hell. First, I'm putting you on administrative leave for six weeks while you're dealing with your shoulder and for grief counseling. I've already spoken to your doctor, and based on what he told me I decided that when you come back you're going to be assigned desk duty for an additional six weeks. That'll be up in St. Louis. After that, you'll be put back on a regular beat. It'll be closer to St. Louis. I promise. District C is looking for more officers to cover Arnold and South Saint Louis County. You're also getting a promotion."

Carol jumped and landed with a squeak. "Lieutenant!"

The Captain smiled and said, "You've earned it."

Thankfully, her squad car only needed a new battery after the staff blast. It was her car, but she and Deland took turns driving each day. It was the newest model 1992 Crown Victoria. She preferred her old one, but the department insisted that they all upgrade. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have to pay for them. At least she was allowed to finance it. The department's logic was that if the officer damaged the vehicle, their own insurance had to pay for it—the department had gotten sick of paying the excessive insurance claims and in 1990, it was decided that officers had to own and take personal responsibility for their cruisers.

Because of her injured shoulder, the station mechanic replaced the battery for her. He also offered to patch the hole for her. He held up the old battery, which had been blown in half and melted. "Damn!" he said. "I've never seen anything do anything like this. I've seen batteries explode, but man, this is like the Predator shot it."

She made a note to contact the Ford dealer for a new fender. Aylala slept the entire way as she drove. It was midnight by the time they made it home. They would have made it home sooner, but the stop in Chesterfield to tell Deland's wife that he wouldn't be coming home took an hour. It was hard. The young widow was distraught, but she asked the details of what happened, and leaving out the strangeness of the case, Carol explained everything. Pulling into her driveway, she gave silent thanks for her administrative leave. It meant she could sleep in.

Her husband was up waiting for her, as always. He worked for McDonnell-Douglas and he needed to be up early, but he always waited for Carol. She didn't like him exhausting himself on her account, but she thought it was sweet. She could hear the sound of lightsabers coming from the television. A deep, sinister voice said, "The Force is with you, Young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet." The moment he saw her, her husband stood and gave her a kiss.

He took a look at her and said, "What on Earth happened? Are you okay?"

She sighed and explained her entire day, getting tired of telling the same story, except she omitted nothing, not even the stuff she needed to keep quiet. When she was done and she had convinced him that her shoulder would be fine, she said, "Nate, I want to introduce you to Aylala. Nobody knows where she belongs, and we didn't want to put her in foster care so she's staying with us for a while. She doesn't speak English and nobody can figure out what her language is. We are also not telling the Air Force about her."

Nate said, "Oh, well, Aylala, we have a son about your age and his name is Nate, too."

"Naytu?"

"Nate. Well, Nathan." He looked at Carol and back at Aylala and said, "Are you hungry?"

Aylala's expression turned to one of longing and she nodded and rubbed her stomach. "Hungry."

Aylala, for her part, observed this new world and everything that was happening. These new experiences were sometimes hard to categorize, but some of them mystified her, some of them frightened her, some of them amused her, but they all amazed her. Crossing Carol's path had been more fortuitous than Aylala could have ever imagined, and she could only hope that she could pay her back for all that she had done for her.