SGD Snapshots #4: PTSD
The egg-shaped object bounced once, twice, then three times before obliterating itself and blasting everything in the immediate vicinity.
It was over half a year ago, and Amanda Somers, ex-embedded reporter, was still living the nightmare. Part of her wondered why she had ever signed up- but she knew why. Who wouldn't? Go to other planets, take in the sights, show the world what was really out there.
There was a shocked look on the faces of the two Jaffa, visible for only a split second before they were blown into mangled, bloody corpses.
She considered herself lucky to be picked. She wasn't well known, wasn't attached to any network- and the AESF chose her because of that. Unfortunately, she had grossly misinterpreted the job description.
With some hesitation, she brought her own rifle up, lining up the transparent red crosshairs with the chest of a third.
Right away, she had been attached to a team for the duration of her contract. It was a newer one, SG-114. A four-member team before, she brought the total up to five. An unwelcome fifth member, at least at first.
A short series of staccato bangs later, and blood splattered through ragged holes blown through the Jaffa's armour.
Captain Melissa Roberts, US Army. Proof positive that women could serve in an infantry unit, and proof positive they couldn't. Came within a hair's breadth of being left out in the cold by an Army that didn't want a failed experiment with female soldiers. In the AESF, she excelled. At first Melissa hated her, but she warmed up fairly quickly.
A look of utter agony crossed his face, drowned out a second later by her eighth bullet, which carved straight through his jugular vein.
Sergeant Edward Lewis, Her Majesty's Special Air Service. The accent made that clear, and the reluctance to quit smoking cigars accentuated it somehow. Eddie broke as many stereotypes as he reinforced. Preferred coffee to tea, but preferred jam to jelly too. For some reason, she found that more memorable than his battlefield prowess or pleasant, if slightly annoying, personality.
Blood spurted from the wound, coating absolutely everything- himself, the dead Jaffa, even a few drops reaching across the fifteen-metre gap to hit her.
Martha Brown- that was it. Well, it would have been Lieutenant Martha Brown if police ranks counted. Former SWAT, though the reporter couldn't remember where, discriminated against because of race. Before that, she had dropped out of MIT. Not a scientist, her practical approach could solve any technical problem the team encountered. Amanda never really got to know her, and she never got to know Amanda, though the police officer seemed fairly nice.
A moment later- though it felt much longer- she had another Jaffa lined up in her sights.
Then-Master Corporal Gal Chazan. An Israeli, the assumption was that he was ex-IDF. Apart from that, nobody knew much about him. He didn't talk, just did his job. And he was damn good at it, too.
He wore a look of utter resignation, and couldn't even scream as the rest of her magazine tore through his heart and lungs.
Tartarus. It was supposed to be the first great victory for the AESF, but just ended up as a huge clusterfuck. They went in with all they had, and the goa'uld hit them hard with some unexpected weapons, including a sort of tank. But the newly-formed AESF continued the tradition of beating the odds. Among other things, they had destroyed the Kull facility. Ironically, the Free Jaffa would end up in control of the planet- with its sole major city reduced to a smoking ruin.
All around the group of Jaffa, the sand was stained a dark crimson, leaking from their dead bodies.
With everything going wrong, a gun had been put into her hands and she became a killer. Not that she had a choice. Several times, she was hit by staff blasts that would have ended her life were it not for her (at the time) ultra-advanced Aegis II armour. Both directly and indirectly, it had saved her life. Within the fully sealed suit, she felt isolated, detached from the outside world.
"Nice job," Captain Roberts said, looking at the bodies, and added when she saw the look on Amanda's face, "Don't worry. They're just aliens."
If only anyone could believe that. Even at the time, she knew the Captain was just trying to make her feel better. It was racist, yes, but it dehumanized the enemy. It was easier to kill an alien than fellow man. But like the isolated environment of her armour, it was only an illusion. The Jaffa she shot had hopes and dreams. They had friends and family. They may have been on the wrong side, but they were still people.
Blood covered Melissa's forearms and gloves, as well as the snake-shaped object in her hands that she handed to the journalist.
In the last month, the trauma had begun to affect her the worst. When she was with the AESF, there were people she could relate to, people she felt safe and comfortable around. There was always something exciting to do, something new to discover. Combat missions where she had to kill were few compared to the exploaratory ones where she could learn new things and meet new people. And yet the former were the ones that she remembered the most vividly.
She looked at the messy pile of bodies one last time, then quickly turned away and forced the nausea back.
Though she had plenty of money from her work and a cushy job at Bregman Media, Amanda found it difficult to adapt. The few reporting assignments she had carried out were colossal failures. She was a personality totally unsuited to the job. They found her aggressive, rude, and quick to anger. Independent journalism ceased to attract her any more. Even her long-time passion of photography had become frustrating and dull.
"You know, I had my doubts, but you turned out okay. I'd fight with you anytime."
That was always how it ended. The conscious part of her mind knew that Melissa hadn't said that until just before she left, but apparently her subconscious didn't. If she were to return, she would be welcome back. The offer had come not long after she left, but the virtual letter sat there unanswered for weeks. It wouldn't be the same job, PR consultant was much more peaceful. It was perfect for her. Show her face on TV, spend time with people she could call friends, and maybe get out in the greater galaxy for a sightseeing tour once in a while.
"Good luck out there. See you on the other side."
There was really no other option. The civilian world didn't have a place for an interplanetary journalist with severe PTSD. She didn't want treatment, and didn't think it would do any good, either. She really did enjoy her year with the AESF, even if it did leave her with nothing more than a few million dollars, a certificate, and insomnia. And the new offer was even better than the old one.
Amanda Somers made the decision. She was going back.
SGD 2x04 Origin
March 25, 2005
M6R-867
A pair of dark, blurry shapes roared overhead, and seconds later, a new group of contacts appeared on the tactical net. "Or maybe not."
"Reinforcements? Our people?" Sheppard asked groggily, voice slightly less distorted than last time. Although none of the others could see it, his eyes had snapped open as soon as he heard the shots.
"Yes, sir." As they watched, one of the shapes disengaged and swooped downward. At the closer distance, they could tell it was an A-3 gunship. Seconds later, an M61 Vulcan on a flexible mount extended from the belly bay and opened fire. The effect was devastating. The 20mm SAPHEI shells ripped into the Genii position, utterly destroying their vehicle and brutally killing anyone in the open.
As the gunship tipped its wings and climbed, another group came into view on the ground. This time, it was their own. A pair of tanks, flanked by APCs and with Killdozers behind, charged toward them. Riding on them was what seemed to be five teams of infanty.
Major Teldy muttered, "The cavalry has arrived."
Atlantis
"Picking up another signal, ma'am. Audio only, this one's Genii."
"Put it on," Weir ordered again. She rubbed her temples and cursed herself for not picking up some aspirin when she was down in the infirmary.
"This is Commander Cowen of the Genii. I hope you have considered my offer carefully."
"We are willing to trade your people for ours," General Weir reiterated. She picked up a list and read it off. "For the twelve of yours we have, Major Lorne, Sergeant-"
"You are wasting your breath, General. We have no interest in having our people returned to us. They volunteered for the mission knowing that they were never coming back."
"I don't think you understand," Weir protested. "Most of your people can be cured, including Ladon's sister."
"Oh, I understand. And I want you to understand that I don't care!"
"What?"
"I think you're playing for time, General."
"I think you're bluffing, Commander. How do I know that you really have our people?"
"You operated under the assumption that we did, and now you question me?" Cowen said angrily. "Very well, I will prove it."
There were some muffled voices, then a single word. "Speak."
"Don't tell them anything, don't trade them anything, they've got a-" A gunshot cut off what was clearly Major Lorne speaking.
"The Genii people need those jumpers, General Weir. You have bought yourself fifteen more minutes at the expense of one hostage."
"Cowen, the moment you fired that gun you put yourself in a state of war with Earth!"
"Oh, yes, well, I don't quite know how I'll live with myself," Cowen said sarcastically.
"I don't quite think you understand the ramifications of your actions!"
The comm officer shook his head. "It's no use, ma'am, he's cut the connection."
M6R-867
"I think I've found it," First Lieutenant Agda Persson reported from her station in the back of the A-3. "Strong signal emissions, five hundred metres, bearing zero-four-four."
"Affirmative," the pilot, another Swede, replied. Captain Halvar Svensson brought the craft into a gentle right turn. "Okay, here goes nothing."
He nodded to the weapons officer beside him, who, with a few button presses, selected a pair of GBU-24 Paveway laser-guided bombs, locked the guidance system on to the target, and released them. Following a laser designator mounted on the A-3, the bombs tracked precisely, hitting within a metre of their intended target.
"Target destroyed, jamming signal is gone," the EW officer reported. From her station, she keyed the communications system. "Atlantis base, do you read? Confirm communications status, over."
"This is Atlantis," Weir's voice replied. "Reading you loud and clear."
"Solid copy," Colonel Sheppard replied from the ground. "It's good to hear your voice."
"Likewise. Have you completed rescue operations?"
"We have," Sheppard replied. "They dug out myself, McKay- although he's a little rattled, Teyla, Lieutenant Cadman, and Sergeant Stackhouse. Most of Charlie was wiped out- they were closer to the blast. We've recovered all the bodies."
He paused. "With your permission, I'd like to go after the Genii. They don't have ships or even planes that I know of, so they must be close to the gate."
There was another pause as Weir mulled it over. "Okay, you have my go-ahead. But John?"
"Yes, Elizabeth?"
"Be careful."
M6R-867
"They've destroyed the jamming device," Ladon Radim reported, striding briskly into the makeshift command room. "And all the teams we sent are not reporting back."
"It was too much to expect, the losses are acceptable," Cowen replied, standing up. "We must leave as soon as possible, before they locate us. Then we shall deal the Atlanteans a blow they will never recover from."
Next to him stood what was clearly a Wraith, clad in all black. His voice was too distorted and too deep, even for his race. "This will be a glorious day for all of us, don't you agree?"
He smirked. "It will."
"Well, not all of us, I suppose." Cowen motioned toward a fourth figure occupying the room. He knelt on the concrete floor, wearing tattered Pegasus-native clothing and a bandage where he had been shot in the abdomen. "Now, Major, what are we going to do with you?"
"You can do whatever you want," he said hoarsely. "You're never going to get the jumpers."
"That is not our goal," Cowen stated ominously. "Although if we did receive them, it would be useful to us."
"If you don't want the jumpers, why do you need us? What are you doing?"
"Even the information a captured team member can provide is invaluable to the Genii. When the opportunity presented itself, we took it."
"You mean the Wraith over there? I guess selling out doesn't mean much to you guys."
Cowen put an arm across the Wraith's neck. He frowned as the Genii smiled. "Bob has been instrumental in our plans. His technical expertise and knowledge of your people has made this possible. Besides, as you will see, he is not quite a Wraith."
Bob looked down, into Lorne's eyes. His own flashed bright for a moment, then faded. In a voice too deep, too distorted even for a Wraith, he explained, "I am the one you know as Ba'al."
"Cowen, are you out of your fucking mind?" Lorne roared, putting the pieces together. "His race attacked Earth several times! They live for the subjugation of humans, and can take them as hosts at will. This particular one will not hesitate to stab you in the back at the soonest available opportunity."
The Genii leader chuckled. "Rant all you wish, Major. In about-" he checked his watch "-ten of your minutes, Colonel Sheppard will be vaporized along with five other teams, and yourself."
He motioned to Ladon. "Put him with the others."
"Yes sir." Ladon grabbed Major Lorne by the arm and jerked him up on to his feet. The Major pulled his arm away, and staggered in front Ladon as they left the room.
"What are you going to do with us?" Lorne asked as he was led at gunpoint through a grey concrete corridor and down a flight of stairs.
Ladon forced him through a doorway into a more open area with clearly visible holding cells, passing two guards in Genii uniforms that joined him. "Well, I was just going to let you guys get vaporized..."
The men, loyal to Ladon, raised their pistols at the two protecting the holding cells, who wore a different style of black uniform. Before they could react, Ladon's men fired, putting three shots into each man and killing them before they hit the ground.
Quickly, Ladon extracted a key from his pocket and unlocked the cell door. "We're letting you go."
The men and women inside, most of them wearing clothing provided by the Genii, stumbled to their feet. They shuffled out of the cell, and two of them grabbed weapons from the downed guards.
Leading them out of the room, Ladon explained what was happening. "Despite or perhaps in line with what you may think, there was a rebellion all along. I needed Cowen and his elite guard in one place, and I knew the puddle jumpers would get him here."
"And the goa'uld?"
"He was useful, but that problem should also take care of itself."
As they headed out of the room and into another drab corridor, Lorne asked, "How did you get your hands on a nuclear device?"
"I'm the chief scientist. I built it." He paused. "Most of my men are waiting for me on our homeworld. Tonight, the leadership of our people changes hands."
Cowen checked his watch again. Ladon Radim still hadn't returned. Perhaps he really was staging a coup- no. He was just being paranoid. Maybe they were being attacked- no, he would know it. Maybe he just slipped and fell, the damn fool. Cowen motioned to his guards. "Go see what's keeping him."
As soon as the guards turned their backs, Ba'al made his move. With lightning speed, he drew a zat that was hidden beneath his long coat, and fired it once into each of the guards. Cowen turned, a look of surprise on his face. It turned to one of agony as he thrust his feeding hand into the man's chest.
A massive rush flowed through Ba'al's system, something indescribable and yet oh so satisfying. He didn't know whether it was physiological or psychological, nor did he care. The host, a constant prick in the back of his proverbial neck, displayed his pleasure, adding to the experience. He fed slowly, to maximize his pleasure both directly and indirectly.
"What... are... you... doing?" Cowen gasped weakly as the life was ripped from his body.
"The Pegasus galaxy is a strange and dangerous place," Ba'al replied. "Even a god needs allies. Like the Tau'ri say, I had what you want and you had what I wanted. An ally, one of convenience by an ally nontheless."
"An ally you would betray!"
Ba'al smirked. "Of course. I have what I need. I could have taken more from the prisoners, but now I know what to look for and who to ask. At the same time, I have given the Tau'ri another enemy to think about. It will be a slow process, but I will become the most powerful being in the galaxy."
He leaned in closer and uttered sarcastically, "Thank you." After that, he let Cowen's lifeless body slump to the floor.
He had briefly considered simply taking Cowen as a host, but it presented too many problems. It would have left too many loose ends. He could take care of them, but that would only arouse more suspicion. No, the days of Cowen were over, no matter who he really was. Besides, he liked his current host.
The Wraith were much, much more powerful than the Genii. And he could unite the scattered hives into one massive force ready to crush Earth beneath an unstoppable war machine.
"We've got contacts," Lieutenant Persson reported. She adjusted the scanners. "Coming out of an unidentified... not sure what it is. About a dozen of them, Genii- wait. Those are our people!"
"You sure?" Colonel Sheppard asked. He sat atop the lead M-301 tank as it slowly rolled through the street. He motioned to the driver, and the tank accelerated with a jarring lurch.
"Switching to visual." She peered closely at the grainy picture, running it through automated enhancements and a computer database. "Positive ID on Major Lorne. More forthcoming-"
"No need, Overwatch. I've got visual ID from down here." Sheppard replied. They were on the same street, and the group was almost directly in front of them. "Looks like our old friend Ladon is among them, too."
"Colonel!" Ladon shouted, waving his weapon in the air.
"Drop it," Sheppard immediately ordered, hopping off the tank. Ladon complied, dropping his pistol, and his two men followed his lead. "Looks like you had noble intentions after all."
"Unfortunately, Colonel, they are not entirely selfless," he replied. They were only a few metres apart now. "I can explain later, but for now, we have to get off this world."
"He's got a nuke rigged to blow in about seven minutes, sir," Lorne explained, coming up behind Ladon. He was injured and had trouble walking, but calm. "I'd advise you to do as he says."
Sheppard briefly looked around. "Atlantis, what is the ETA on the Daedalus?"
"Just under an hour," Weir replied. "I advise that you exfil immediately. In this case it is very much better to be safe than sorry."
"Copy that," Sheppard replied. He ordered, "Mount up and move out to the gate! Overwatch, get to a safe distance and monitor the situation from there."
Atlantis
"Shutting down the gate, communications blackout in three... two... one."
Almost as quickly as the gate shut down, it started up again. This time, it was being dialled from the other end.
"Comms reestablished."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Weir said to the communications officer. "Colonel Sheppard, what's your status."
"We're on our way to the gate, moving as fast as we can. Ladon, how much time do we have?"
There was some muffled speech, then Sheppard added, "Then we'll make it. Barely. Atlantis, hold the door open for us but be ready to activate the shield as soon as we come through."
"Affirmative," Weir replied. Then she waited. It was only a tad over a minute before the teams came through, but it seemed like an eternity. So much had gone wrong! Teams that were thought to be dead weren't, but now one that was very much alive an hour ago was all but wiped out. The Genii was on the verge of regime change, and she was facilitating it. Of course, that was assuming that they came back. She may have just sent them to their deaths. It was a mess, all of it.
Finally, they came through. As soon as the last vehicle had rolled into the too-small gateroom, Sheppard shouted "Shield up!"
With a buzz, the field of energy materialized, blocking the event horizon of the stargate. Seconds later, the whole room shook as a burst of energy transferred from the other end. The nuke had gone off.
"Overwatch, do you copy? Overwatch, respond!" Weir called out. After another long-short wait, she received a response.
"This is Overwatch one-one, we're okay," Svensson replied. "That was a big one, the city is completely gone."
"Affirmative, Overwatch. You may RTB as soon as the gateroom is clear. Good job, everyone."
Unknown Location
An instant after Daniel inserted the stone, he found himself in completely different place. It was a house, decently sized and well furnished. The archeologist in him put it at around the late Middle Ages to Renaissance, with low-grade blown glass windows, rough wooden furniture and abundance of scrolls and ceramics. The steady glowing lights seemed very out of place, and the size was a bit large for a peasant home.
He turned, and a blonde woman stared back at him. He knew what had happened. "Don't be afraid. I'm Daniel Jackson, the device works by allowing us to see through the eyes of someone else, basically switching consciousness. You are Vala, right?"
"Pretty sure I am," she said, looking at herself in the mirror. "Then again, maybe not. Where are we?"
"I don't know," Daniel muttered. He picked up a book, leafed through it, and put it down. It appeared to be a novel written in a dialect of Ancient.
Vala didn't hear him, or at least pretended not to hear. "This is an odd communication device. I mean, I can't talk to this poor woman, I have no access to her mind, her thoughts, her memories, I'm basically just borrowing her body!"
"Hmm. It's possible that they were designed to work this way, that they're just temporary transmitters."
Vala picked up a strange-looking fruit and bit into it. She thought it was actually quite good, juicy and sweet. "But why would they build a communication device that works by swapping bodies?"
"I don't know," Daniel replied, examining another book.
"Do you think we're actually in another galaxy?"
"I don't know."
"Why these people?"
"I don't know."
Vala strode over to Daniel, who had wandered to the other side of the room. Finally, she said aloud what both of them had been thinking for some time. "Maybe it's just me, but this house, these things, these clothes? It's not how I'd expect the Ancients to look."
"No," Daniel agreed.
Changing subjects, Vala asked, "What are their names?"
Warehouse, Unknown Location
"Harrid and Sallis?" the blonde-haired woman asked. "Where are you from?"
Harrid looked up at her. It worked! Nobody had been exactly sure what the device would do, but they thought it was a communication device of some sort. And here they were, presumably having switched bodies with someone far away.
"We are from Ver Eger," Harrid replied. He would have to be careful not to reveal too much. The Ori may be just as powerful here as they were in their home village.
The woman folded her arms. "And where is that?"
"It is on the world called Celestis, the home of the Ori," he said, sitting down in the chair. Beside him, Sallis followed his lead, taking the only other chair. They seemed strange, made of metal rather than wood and devoid of padding.
"Ori?" the woman asked.
"You do not know of the Ori?" Sallis asked, glancing at the worried face of Harrid. A trick?
"No. Tell me about them."
"The Ori are all powerful," Sallis explained. "They guide us on the path to enlightenment, and bless us all. We learn from their teachings, in the book of Origin."
The blonde woman's face twitched slightly. "But who are they?"
Harrid decided to play dumb, too. "They are everywhere, but it is said that their home is in the great city of Celestis. We dare not venture there."
Athena sighed slightly. These people weren't Ancients, and although the Ori might be, she doubted it. They knew more than they let on, however, and she wasn't just going to let that go.
"Tell me more."
Ver Eger
"Not quite what I imagined when I pictured a civilization of gatebuilders," Vala commented, surveying the scene in front of them. The street was paved in cobblestones, and occupied by men and women in similar clothes to what they wore. Most of the buildings were wood, but a large stone one dominated the street. The stones were a worn pinkish-grey, and the building had several windows. It was adorned with a strange symbol. The symbol seemed to have two concentric ovals with a base projecting below the outer one and an open top. It reminded Vala of a staff.
"No," Daniel agreed. "Something tells me that this is not the same race of people that built a spaceship that crossed the universe."
"Above the sun! Harrid, Sallis!" A man called from a stone bridge above them. He waved.
Noticing the odd choice of words, Vala asked quietly, "What?"
"Uh, I think that means good morning." Daniel raised his hand and waved back. "Above the sun to you!"
"Why the odd choice of words?" Vala asked again.
"Well, this place is pretty far off our linguistic evolutionary tree. Even if the language is automatically translated, the idioms won't make any sense to us."
"See you at Prostration!" the man called.
Daniel waved his hand to wave again. "Prostration it is!" The man looked at his wife, who shrugged, then they walked off.
Vala looped her arm through Daniel's. "Well, then, I guess we should try to appear normal."
SFB Cheyenne Mountain
"T! How ya doing?" O'Neill greeted as the Jaffa entered his office. He deliberately left the door open. If it was important, General O'Neill would rather know as soon as possible, and if it wasn't, you'd feel his wrath anyway. It was a point of much contention with Lieutenant Kelley, his assistant.
Teal'c's face was ashen. "I must return to Dakara immediately."
"Now? Did I ever tell you that your timing sucks?"
"You did not. Although the situation on Earth requires attention, the state of the Free Jaffa Nation is of utmost concern."
"What's going on?" O'Neill asked, now serious and concerned.
Teal'c gave him a rundown of the Jaffa political situation. "The Free Jaffa Nation consists of many factions. Some wish for a return to a traditional dictatorship, though several have instead joined Yu's faction. Some even suggest that we merge with Yu's empire, return to the goa'uld. One groups wishes to have a High Council, with power divided by military strength. Myself and Master Bra'tac wish for a democracy, with representation by population.
"Arguments are fierce, and many Jaffa are uninformed and undecided. Many groups threaten to leave, dividing our ranks and leaving us weak. The Jaffa are not accustomed to freedom. We fight and quarrel, and I fear the Jaffa Nation may destroy itself before it even truly existed."
"That's pretty heavy, Teal'c," General O'Neill replied. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"It is not of your concern."
"Bull fucking shit. The Free Jaffa Nation is one of our strongest allies- that's from me and the higher-ups. Look, this isn't really my department, but I can kick a proposal upstairs for the Stargate Alliance to back a democratic proposal." Even as he talked, O'Neill filled out the form allowing Teal'c to leave, which was fairly simple as far as paperwork went. He had made sure of that.
"That would be most kind of you, O'Neill."
"No problem," he replied, handing the form to him. "Here ya go. Just make sure you take her home before midnight."
"I can make no promises, O'Neill."
Warehouse, Unknown Location
"And this Prostration, what is it?" Athena asked, continuing the interrogation. The two seemed to be babbling idiots, but she knew that there was more to it than that. They had been trying to get here, and she was going to find out why.
"We gather in the town square, and bow down to the Ori. We chant, pray and meditate, sometimes for hours. It is often uncomfortable, but crucial to the path of enlightenment." Harrid explained.
Athena asked next, "The book of Origin. What is it, exactly?"
"It is the word of the Ori. It tells us everything, and we live our life by its word. It is the path to enlightenment."
She was beginning to get impatient. Harrid and Sallis only blabbered about the Ori, something that Athena found bitterly ironic. Many of her subjects had been like that, always singing praises of their god. Yet the duo was obviously fairly intelligent, and knew more than they let on. She rearranged her hands in her lap.
"The Ori, what do they look like? How do they act?"
"They are everywhere," Sallis repeated. "They are not beings of flesh and blood."
"So, you've never seen them."
"No, but we know they are there, like the air that moves leaves."
"If they Ori don't appear to you, how do you learn their teachings? Did the Book of Origin just appear one day?"
"No," Harrid explained. "The Ori occasionally send Priors to villages. It is a rare and awesome occasion. The Priors are the agents of the Ori and are blessed with many abilities. They can heal, move things with their mind, restore things that have been destroyed- I have even heard of them raising the dead."
Now they were getting somewhere. "These Priors, have you ever seen any?"
Ver Eger
"Well, that was fun," Vala snarled sarcastically. "Six bloody hours of Prostration!"
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Why don't we just tell someone who we are and what's going on. I mean, isn't that the whole point of this anyway?"
"I don't think these people are going to understand," Daniel said simply. It must have been his method of coping with it. "Hey, did you hear what that guy said at the beginning of the service?"
"Something about meeting. Under the portico of light at the hour of bligh. What's that supposed to mean?" She paused, watching as Daniel turned over objects seemingly at random. "What are you looking for?"
"I dunno," he replied, climbing up the stairs. "Some reason as to why we're in these people, these particular bodies. I mean, it can't be completely random."
Pulling her skirt up, Vala climbed up the stairs after him. "Well, I have a more pressing question. Do you have any idea how we're supposed to-" she pushed a strip of cloth that Daniel had pulled out of a closet out of the way- "detach from them?"
Daniel stopped his searching. "No. And that's the thing that got me worried. Have you tried?"
Vala tossed her shoes on the bed. "Nothing. Maybe we're better off here, though."
"Well, we're not really here, it just seems that way. Athena could be doing all kinds of nasty things to our real bodies even as we speak. She could be-"
Vala cut him off. "I'd really rather not think about it. Dealing with that bitch is very much preferable to this weird out of body experience. Now, how do we get back?" She hopped on the bed and groaned as her muscles tensed up, then relaxed.
"Well, it probably has something to do with the device back on Earth, possibly removing the stones." He tossed aside several dirty squares of cloth. "Of course, we'll have to wait for the SGC to get to the device, because Athena either won't be able to figure it out or she'll pull the plug the wrong way, and I have no idea what kind of failure modes the device has."
"Do you think they're in our bodies?"
"I don't know, I'm not even sure if this is how the technology is supposed to work. It's a possibility, but I can't confirm it either way."
"I thought it was all there in the manual?"
"It was a very old manual, in an obscure dialect of Ancient and using several terms I don't understand. I wasn't even sure it would work at all."
"This is just perfect!" Vala exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, your planet is a fucking shithole. First you coop me up in the worst prison in the galaxy for months, then I'm kidnapped by one of your criminal organizations, which turns out to have Athena in charge, and now... this."
"Look, I'm really sorry about Gitmo," Daniel apologized sincerely. "See the AESF doesn't have any long-term accommodation, so we released you into the American system, which decided you were a threat to national security. But it wasn't my choice."
"You could have done something."
"I didn't even know until this week!"
"Still, you could have done something."
Daniel gently raised her chin and looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry. But what's done is done. I'll do everything I can, I promise. Maybe they'll let you go this time."
"I think you should read this," Vala said suddenly.
"What?"
Holding out a leather-bound book, she repeated, "I really think you should read this."
The Ori symbol on the cover instantly turned Daniel off. "Oh, no, not that. I've had quite enough of the Ori for one day... or one lifetime."
Vala opened the book for him. "I think you'd find it really interesting."
Inside two square holes cut into the faded, densely packed pages were two stones, identical to the ones on Earth.
SFB Cheyenne Mountain
Chekov came into the room with a grave expression on his face. "British special forces attempted to raid a Trust facility. They were wiped out, and the facility was destroyed by an airstrike soon after."
"Yeah, I heard." General O'Neill slammed his fist on his desk. "What the hell were those idiots across the pond doing?"
"The British wished to show that they can fight their own fight," Chekov replied, sitting down. "A matter of national pride. They sent their best. I do not fault the men, they were good, but they did not know what they were up against, and they were not equipped for the threat."
O'Neill looked up. "They should have known better."
"But they did not. You must understand, General, that our countries are the only ones with any offworld experience. Until one year ago, there was little British involvement in the Stargate program."
"The entire strike team dead, two helicopters down with one survivor between them, and anything that might have been there totally obliterated," O'Neill mused.
"Your people weren't there?"
"Our people, Mikhail," the General corrected. "No, they weren't, not as far as the search teams can tell. But who knows, maybe they were vaporized."
He sighed. "This is a clusterfuck, any way you put it."
"It was a trap," Chekov stated. "They were never really there. However, the AESF and Stargate Committee will be blamed for the failure, regardless of any actions on the British government's part. It is politics, General."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
Ver Eger
As soon as Daniel opened the door, the man barged in. He was somewhat round, with a bushy black beard and hair to match. "Thank those full of value. I was worried when you did not meet me."
"Yes, sorry about that," Daniel replied, backing away as the man closed the door behind himself.
"Why did you not meet me?" the man asked, then turned to Vala. "Why are you not sharing leaves with the administrator's wife?"
"I... forgot," Vala stammered.
"We are already suspected, we must not alter our behaviour!"
"Suspected of what?" Daniel asked the man.
"What ails you? Did I not know better I would fear you were trying to entrap me."
"No, I wouldn't dream of trying to-" Daniel began.
Cutting him off mid-sentence, Vala asked, "Entrap you? How?"
"Okay, you know what?" Daniel motioned with his hands. "Please, would you sit?"
Warehouse, Unknown Location
"Is there no one who questions the word of the Ori?"
Another sideways glance between the two. Harrid was the first to speak up. "Some. They are heretics."
"Why?"
"They seek evidence that disproves the Book of Origin, and hide it away for safekeeping. They hope that eventually, there will be enough to convince the people that the Ori are not gods." He quickly added. "They are swiftly stomped out."
"Evidence?"
"Writings, artifacts, anything that proves that the Book of Origin is untrue. Most of the searching is based on uncovering that we existed before our supposed creation by the Ori."
"And you are a part of that resistance?" Athena finally asked. When the two didn't respond, she added. "If I were working with the Ori, then we already know and resisting would be useless. If I'm not, perhaps I could be of some assistance."
Harrid did not speak for some time, although his mind was racing. Eventually, he finally squeaked. "Yes."
Ver Eger
"Harrid always believed the stones were a communication device," the man, who had revealed his name as Fannis, mused. He struck Daniel as a simple man, but appearances could be deceiving. In fact, Fannis understood exactly what was going on.
"You know about the stones?" Daniel asked.
"Yes. They were found not long ago in an ancestral burial ground not far from here. We kept them and preserved them."
"Because the Ori would destroy them?"
"Yes. As I have said, it is sacrilege. We believe we have discovered evidence that proves a race of humans existed before our supposed creation by the Ori."
"Excuse me, Daniel," Vala interrupted. "What if these Ori are the people left behind by the Alterans?"
"You think they ascended."
"They did what?"
"Uh, ascended to a higher plane of existence, turning into beings of pure energy, becoming enlightened with knowledge, having godlike powers, I'll explain later. The Ancients did it, the Ori might be their cousins."
"That would explain a lot," Vala agreed. "These people must be a second evolution of humans, like you and me in our own galaxy."
"But the religion doesn't fit the profile," Daniel argued. "The ascended beings I know don't pose as gods, in fact they don't meddle in the affairs of the lower planes of existence, no matter what the consequences."
"Maybe they're evil cousins," Vala suggested.
"The Ori are not posing," Fannis interjected. "Their power is very real and we do not doubt it, only their motives and their word."
"Fannis, just because they are powerful doesn't make them gods. There was a race of non-humans in our galaxy called the goa'uld. Because of their technology, they could impress simple cultures, and appear to be deities to them. But they weren't, and their kind are all but gone."
Fannis didn't reply. He said to Vala. "You will meet for leaves with the administrator's wife. Sallis and she are acquaintances."
"So what should I do?" Vala asked nervously.
"Can you not disconnect and allow Sallis to return?" Fannis asked.
"No, apparently we can't do that."
"Then you must pose as Sallis," Fannis said gravely. "Or we will be discovered."
"I can do that."
Dakara, Free Jaffa Nation
"The voting will begin soon," Rak'nor said to Teal'c as they marched toward the government chamber, built into the sandy ruins of the old temple. "We must hur- who is this?"
"Richard Woolsey." The man extended his hand. His dress of polished oxfords and well-cut gray suit stood out among the drab robes of the Jaffa that inhabited the world. "I represent the interests of Earth."
"He will be instrumental in swaying the opinion of the Jaffa," Teal'c assured his friend as Bra'tac joined them on the way to the council chamber. "Master Bra'tac."
"The news is not good, Teal'c," the old Jaffa told him. "Many wish for independence, and a return of the old ways. Some have even deserted for the remnants of the goa'uld."
"You mean Yu." Woolsey half-asked.
"Primarily, yes," Bra'tac confirmed. "Though his empire is not the same as it was even a year ago, he is still our enemy. Those who join him may fight against us, and destroy the unity of the Jaffa that keeps the Free Jaffa Nation standing."
They entered the council chamber silently. A round table sat in the room, with chairs arranged around it. Only some of the representatives were standing. Ka'lel of the Hak'tyl and Gerak were easily recognized, but Woolsey didn't know any of the others.
His presence was immediately protested. "You dare to bring a Tau'ri- not a warrior of the Tau'ri but a bureaucrat?" Gerak roared. The representatives immediately broke into loud squabble.
"Jaffa, hear me," Teal'c shouted, silencing those present. "It is because of the Tau'ri that we are here today. If it were not for them, we would still be under the iron fist of the goa'uld. Many of us would be dead. They are not our enemy. They are not our ally. They are our brothers.
"Many of you wish for a return to the old ways. Many of you consider the new ways heresy, and a symbol of our slavery to the Tau'ri. The opposite is true. The old ways are a symbol of our slavery to the goa'uld. They are heresy. We must change, or our newfound freedom will be squandered.
"Listen to what Mister Woolsey has to say. Think carefully about what would truly be best for the Jaffa, not just now but in a year, in ten, in a hundred. The decisions you make today will decide the future of our nation, if it will stand proud or if it will fall."
He nodded to Woolsey, who opened his briefcase, extracted a file, and began. "It has once been said that united we stand, divided we fall. The Free Jaffa could not exist without the Tau'ri, as you call us, and we could not defeat the goa'uld without the Free Jaffa. Our peoples have stood together in the darkest hours, braved the harshest challenges together, and won the greatest victories together."
Woolsey passed a stack of papers around the table. "The Stargate Alliance will support the Free Jaffa Nation, provided several conditions are met. We will supply food, tretonin, medicine, even weapons. We ask for nothing in return, except for a guarantee of an alliance. There are several details to be worked out, but the only major expectation is the formation of a stable democratic government with a model of your choosing, within certain parameters."
"This is madness!" Gerak objected. "First you insult us with your presence, then you demand we bend to your will and force things we do not need on us?"
"The cold hard fact is that we do need each other," Woolsey replied calmly, adjusting his glasses. "Now, more than ever, we are both vulnerable. The goa'uld empire is gone, which has lulled many into a false sense of security. A very false sense. Various mercenary groups have emerged, minor goa'uld are struggling for power, and Yu's empire is growing. The Free Jaffa Nation is spread out and has few defences. It is vulnerable, as is Earth. We are a known target, and our forces are still small. However, I should remind you that one planet is much easier to defend than an entire empire.
"There is also the matter of your logistics. If no aid is received and radical changes are not made, your food shortage will become critical by the end of this month. If even one tretonin production facility is taken out of commission, you will not have enough for your population and thousands will die. Your fleet is degraded and there is no one and nothing to repair it with. Your armies are scattered, untrained, and under-equipped. Your economy simply does not exist."
"What would you have us do?" Ka'lel asked quietly.
"Enter an alliance with us. Supplies can be sent immediately, which will stave off the food crisis. Technicians and engineers can be sent to improve your infrastructure. We can assist your military in rebuilding its forces. In the long term, trade will stimulate your economy and our own. It would be a new era of prosperity for both our civilizations. It hinges on one decision.
"Think about it carefully."
Ver Eger
"...the people shall deliver unto you the wicked, for your divine judgement, where their sins shall be weighed against all that is just and true," Daniel heard the administrator recite in a monotone voice as they hurried outside. The people of the village gathered around what was supposedly an altar but seemed more like an execution area and water decoration with no water rolled into one.
He watched helplessly as Vala was dragged kicking and screaming toward the altar. "Get your hands off me! Daniel!"
"What happened?" Daniel asked as she was deposited onto what looked like a stone bench and shackled to it.
"Didn't go so well," Vala replied, still resisting.
"Yeah, I can see that. Excuse me." Daniel began to move toward her, but two villagers grabbed him and held him back.
"Harrid, stand back," the administrator ordered. "Sallis has been overcome."
"No, she hasn't, if you'll just let me explain! Listen to me."
The administrator ignored him, speaking to Vala instead. "Fear not. The Ori see all, outside and within. If your heart is pure and your devotion unwavering, they will protect you. They'll cleanse your being and you will be taken to be with them forever. If not, may the fire burn you down to the ground and lay you down in the dust."
"Fire?" Vala asked as a man on the end of the altar lit a cauldron full of some type of fuel. Slowly, two others poured it into the narrow track carved into it, liquid fire seeming to flow toward her.
"Hallowed are the Ori," the administrator recited, and the crowd echoed his words.
What Vala felt was pure, unadulterated fear. A literal stream of fire was racing toward her, and to be burned to death was one of the most painful ways out imaginable. She fought hard against the iron shackles, but only succeeded in cutting and bruising her wrists. The one person in the galaxy who would help her couldn't. She tried to console herself that she wasn't really in this body, but she had no idea what would happen if she died in it.
The flame front disappeared from her view, passing into channels behind her back. Impossibly, the flames seemed to travel uphill, though this was really a clever trick of construction.
"What the hell did you say?" Daniel called.
"I think it's what I didn't say," Vala said quickly. "Apparently there's a blessing you're supposed to say over the leaves before you drink them, which nobody warned me about. Then I think it's what I did say. I was trying to politely explain what was going on and then his wife started screaming and accusing me of being overcome."
"At that point, I believe I mentioned that she might want to think about procreation. With herself."
"Listen to me, please, you have to believe me!" Daniel pleaded to the administrator. "This is not what it looks like, Sallis is not possessed. Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but, uh, we're from another galaxy. We're- we're using a communication technology that allows us to take over a body from very far away- and make us talk to you. We just want to talk to you!"
"You have to believe me! You're killing an innocent person!"
The flames spilled into the oval area around Vala, and she began to feel them burn. "Daniel!"
The administrator ignored them and chanted. "Blessed are those that deliver us from evil."
Vala screamed as the hem of her dress caught fire, then had a feeling that felt like being flayed alive except a thousand times worse as the flames seared her skin and boiled her internal organs.
As the last of her body burned to a crisp and her shrill, desperate screams died down, the flames suddenly blew out. The peasants dropped to their knees where they stood. At the end of the street stood a pale man in ornate grey robes. The symbol of Origin adorned both the clothing he wore and the glowing staff in his left hand.
"Hallowed are the Ori."
