[Just to warn folks, this chapter has some pretty intense, but not explicit, battle violence. And I'm sorry Roeskva, I like Neruk too but the plot goddess had other ideas...}
Chapter 10.
Hands were pulling her up. Voices were calling her name. Lights flashed wildly in the darkness, and she scrambled to her feet, choking on dust.
"Eleanor!" Malek, one hand firmly on her arm.
"I'm all right," she gasped, shocked rigid, and looking round desperately.
"We are under attack," Selmak supplied, pre-empting her question; he had her other arm, and just as well, or she felt sure she would have fallen. The chamber was half-filled with crystals from where the roof had collapsed.
"Neruk!" she exclaimed, starting forward; the bed was half-buried in rocks. Just one outstretched hand protruded from the rubble. The hand that had pushed her out of the way. She reached and touched his fingers; they were still warm, but lifeless.
"He's dead. Move," Selmak ordered bluntly, and half-dragged her out of the chamber, ignoring her involuntary protest. They ran back the way they had come, Selmak ahead of her, Malek behind, and everywhere Tok'ra running and shouting, weapons drawn, sometimes carrying cargo, sometimes the dead and wounded.
Delek and six guards met them halfway there; Delek had a bloody gash across his forehead, and the aloof expression she remembered had been replaced by worried concern, which relaxed a little when he saw her still alive.
"It's Baal," he informed them, grimly, "Somehow, he's found us. He's bombarding the tunnels. It can only be moments before he starts landing ground troops."
"I don't understand," she began, "That cave-in could have killed me. What use am I to him dead?" Everybody ignored her.
"We must get to the gate, it is our only chance," Selmak stated.
"Agreed," said Delek, with a curt nod, "Though it is a slim one. I managed to send an order to the guards to open the connection to the Tau'ri. We have less than 30 minutes before it closes, and I do not know if we will re-open it in time. I have ordered all other Tok'ra to make for the gate, and to hold it for us if they can. This guard is for Dr Stewart."
"Good. Let's go."
"We cannot take the rings. The Jaffa have broken through into that section. We must circle round, via the escarpment. This way."
And they were running again; her by virtue of Malek yanking on her arm once more. She wanted to ask – she did not know what. She wanted to protest – she did not know why. Her mind was reeling with shock. All she could see was Matthus' blue eyes suddenly widening; feel the unexpected force in his arm as he shoved her with the last vestige of his strength. But it was as much as she could do to run along, surrounded by her protective Tok'ra escort. They seemed to run for an age, shocks and thunderous tremors echoing around them. More than once, her escort closed arms over her head, shoving her to the ground, as rocks fell around them. Then someone would grab her arm and pull her up and somehow, they would go on. She could barely keep up; she was almost instantly running with sweat all over and her calves burned with the effort. Her ears rang with the noise and the pounding of her own heart, and the dusty air rasped cruelly in her lungs and stung her eyes.
"Keep going," Malek urged her, when she stumbled, "Run!" She ran, and at last they came to an exit; not via the rings, but evidently a secret back door; a narrow tunnel leading upwards. It appeared blocked, but Delek retrieved a crystal from some secreted nook and cracked it against the wall. She watched dumbly, incapable of amazement, as a new tunnel appeared ahead of them, arching steeply upwards, the crystals growing before her eyes, and, at the end, a patch of sky: blood-red and streaked with smoke. One of the guards went ahead to check, before beckoning for them to follow. Someone pressed something into her hand, and she realised that it was a zat gun. She tucked it into her belt, wanting her hands free for assistance, and scrambled up the steep slope. The crystal was still warm beneath her fingers, and she flashed, sickeningly, on a dead hand clutched in her own.
They broke out into the fresh air, laced with the acrid smell of smoke, and she was able to catch her breath for a moment whilst the Tok'ra conferred urgently as to their direction. Ships wheeled in the sky above them, silhouetted starkly against the setting sun, screaming like banshees as they dived in to strafe the ground above the base with missiles. They were just behind some high dunes that she remembered from the way in, and they wormed on their bellies to the top of one to get a better view. She could see the stargate in the distance below, finger ring-sized. Scattered Tok'ra figures were approaching it; well hidden in their desert camouflage but moving with frantic, dangerous haste. Only a short distance beyond that, Jaffa were landing from the ships and disembarking in vast numbers; an entire army. The gate was active, but only a few Tok'ra jumped through, most carrying things that looked important; the rest took up positions guarding it, all around, using whatever cover they could. Guarding it for her, she realised, appalled, and they hadn't even been told why.
"Let's go!" Jacob yelled, and they half-ran, half-slid down the side of the dunes, in breathless haste. With every last bit of strength she had, the adrenaline coursing through her system, she ran for it. Jaffa were fanning out all around, encircling the gate like a vice, and shots were swarming through the air. She saw several Tok'ra fall, and tried desperately not to think about it, for her mind was teetering on the edge as it was, and she could only keep it together by focussing on simple things like where to put her feet. They nearly made it too, but, as they approached the rocky escarpment running parallel to the gate, it abruptly deactivated. She saw, as if watching a film that she was powerless to change, a Tok'ra start to dial out again, only to be felled by a staff blast. Another took his place, then she, too, was down. And then it didn't matter anymore, because the gate reactivated. From the other side.
"Down!" Delek commanded, and once again she was pressed to the ground, and spat sand.
"Dammit!" That was Jacob, and she risked a glance up. There were more Jaffa pouring through the gate now; the first ones were taken down but the area in front of the Stargate was turning into a shooting gallery, and the Tok'ra were the ducks. One after the other was felled. Most of the rest retreated part-way, to the rocks, but they were completely cut off from any escape, and hopelessly outnumbered. Their group scrambled down to hide behind the escarpment. She shut her eyes to the view as they hunkered in the rocks, only half-listening to the talk going on around her. All this slaughter was because of her. For the first time, she wished profoundly that she had a symbiote. Then they could deal with this nightmare and she could do what she longed most to do and shut her eyes until it all went away.
"We will have to wait here until the gate closes again," said Delek.
"That could be thirty-eight minutes from now!" spluttered Jacob, "The Jaffa will be all over us by then!"
"We could retreat into the desert and hide," Malek suggested, but Delek was shaking his head.
"There is no cover. Even if we bury ourselves in the sand, the Jaffa can simply bombard from their ships again, or fan out in large groups to sweep the area."
"It may buy us time," Jacob remarked, "But we've got to get that gate open again."
"Look!" said one of the guards, and she risked a glance backwards. More ships were landing in the desert, behind the way they had come. They were cut off. A sense of helpless terror that she had not felt since – since her – threatened to overwhelm her.
"No choice then," Jacob summarised, "A few more minutes here, then we'll have to make a dash for it. The SGC will by now be trying to open the gate from their end too, although they hardly have an entire army to spare."
"We'll split into two," Delek told them, "I and two others will attempt to loop round from the southeast, to draw attention away from the rest of you. If we can, we will reach the dialling device. Everybody else, run along the edge of the escarpment, and find your way down there. If the opportunity comes, seize it."
"Yes," was all Selmak said. That was hopeless, she wanted to protest, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She concentrated on trying to get her breath back. The sweat soaking her uniform was cooling rapidly in the chill of a rising wind, making her shiver. One of the guards handed her a water bottle, and she sucked some fluid down gratefully, staring determinedly at the fossil-streaked rock in front of her, fingers tracing the mineralised bone, as if seeking a pattern, and she knew, with a sudden and damning clarity, that if she lived through any of this, the sands of this world would lodge themselves forever in her mind, and the rocks would write themselves into her bones, and it would remain, always, in her memory, as clear-cut and as unforgiving, as dark, as if it were reflected in Tok'ra crystal.
"Time to go," Jacob said, suddenly, and she willed herself up onto wobbly legs again.
"Protect the hok'taur at all costs," was all Delek said, before he and two of the guards sprinted lightly off into the sand, ducking and dodging their way down to the gate. Jaffa started converging on his position almost immediately, and she realised that one of the guards was the one who had given her the water, and she hadn't given it back, and she didn't know his name, and now he was just someone else running out there and throwing away his life in a futile attempt to save hers…
"Come on," Malek was urging her, pulling her arm again, and she started off immediately after him, trying to pull herself together enough to at least not be more of a burden than she already was.
They jogged and jigged their way down the long line of the bluff; now dashing, now ducking for cover, and trying not to send loose scree flying. The four remaining guards formed a protective human shield around her; Malek led, Jacob brought up the rear. She had lost sight of Delek and the others, but at the moment she only had eyes to spare for the placing of her own feet. The sound of staff weapons fire grew louder and louder, and abruptly a sizzling blast sounded right beside her, and one of the guards dropped, rolling down the slope, without ever making a sound. She stumbled in shock, but another guard had her and pulled her along, without a moment's hesitation.
Run and stop and run again; they made their desperate, jagged way down, in amongst the twisted stones. Jaffa converged upon them from all sides now; only the rocks saved them from immediate annihilation, as they shot and ran and forced their way through a narrow gully down towards the gate. It was a continuous running firefight the whole way. Another of her guards fell to the ground beside her, and still another in front of her, so close that she ran straight over her body and hurtled to the ground before she could stop herself; the guard's eyes flashed briefly in front of her face before winking out. Then Jacob was hauling her up again, and she ran on. She finally remembered her own zat, and gripped it desperately, but she could barely pay attention to both running and shooting at the same time, and the few shots she got off went hopelessly wide. A trio of Jaffa appeared suddenly ahead of them, and her last guard flung her into a protective depression in the rock. She felt his body jerk with the impact of multiple hits, the sound of staff blasts all around, before he slid to the ground, and she was looking straight at the face of a Jaffa, staff pointed straight at her. She raised her zat and shot in a shocked, snapped reflex, and then the Jaffa fell too.
Malek turned back to face her, from where he had just dispatched the other two, the fear in his face giving way to a clear, brief relief when he saw she was still alive. Somehow, she did not know how, she even smiled at him, weak as the winter sun. Jacob jogged up behind them.
"We've got more company behind us, keep going."
"I just heard the gate deactivate," Malek told them, as they ran, their little band of three. There were more shouts from behind. A staff blast went straight over their heads. They threw themselves into cover of the rocks. Jacob and Malek shared a glance, jaws hard-set.
"Go," said Selmak, and Malek clapped him briefly on the back, saying nothing.
"But – " she began, but Malek shoved her almost brutally forward. She stumbled, then righted herself and carried on, not looking back. For a minute, all that carried her along was an unspeakable fury that eclipsed even the fear. She could hear Jacob/Selmak shooting furiously behind them, and then, she heard the gate open again, and, suddenly, automatic weapons fire. Giddy hope flared precariously amidst the terror: at last, the SGC troops had come.
They rounded a sharp bend, and came at last to the end of the escarpment. Only long low dunes lay between them and the stargate. Malek barrelled to a halt so suddenly she almost slammed into him. She could just make out marines storming through the gate, and Tok'ra running to meet them, the Jaffa caught between, but there was still a large number of enemy soldiers between them and the gate.
"Back!" Malek gasped, and they turned, to go back the way they had come, only to see more Jaffa pouring into the gully behind them. There was neither sight nor sound of Jacob. They had to go forward. They flinched back simultaneously, their hands meeting and grasping instinctively.
"We will circle along the dunes," Malek told her, his tone as serious and hard as ever she had heard it, "If I fall, do notstop. Do not stop for anything." She couldn't reply for a moment. "Do not stop," he repeated.
"Yes," she said at last, through gritted teeth, and, with one last squeeze of her hand, he let go. They charged forward, at breakneck speed; the last, desperate run. The sand kicked up in great cascades from Malek's feet as he ran just ahead of her; her steps followed in his own, but their prints filled as soon as they were made. Their luck held until they skirted the edge of a dune, and suddenly there were a dozen Jaffa in front of them. Malek shot three before they even realised their target was there, and she herself hit another, but she knew, then, that this was the moment, and it wasn't long enough. Not for both of them. A whole line of staff weapons raised and came to bear at the same instant, as Malek's free hand came back to push against her, to push her away, to make her go. The world immediately in front of them erupted in a blaze of fire, and she landed hard upon her back. Sand thrown up by multiple blasts briefly but completely obscured the view, and she knew she had to take the chance and run. She rolled onto her front and pushed herself up, bringing to bear the zat she still had not lost. The sand cleared with the wind, revealing a solitary figure through the haze: Malek, against all the odds still standing, his zat trained steadily in front of him, unflinching. Ahead were more Jaffa.
"Bra'tac!" Malek exclaimed, incredulous, lowering his weapon slightly.
"Well met, friend Malek," replied the nearest Jaffa, his staff weapon still smoking from where he and his fellows had shot the other Jaffa. She staggered over to Malek, who was clasping the Jaffa's arm with his own in a fierce warrior's grip, dazed with relief and confusion.
"What?" was as much as she managed, and the strange Jaffa nodded politely at her.
"So, you are the young Tau'ri about whom I have heard so much," he said, his tone amused, although the expression on his face was a serious one. She could only imagine what she looked like to him. Small, terrified and pathetic; quite an accurate impression, probably.
"This is Master Bra'tac, of the Free Jaffa," Malek told her, still sounding like he didn't believe it.
"I came as soon as I was able, with as many Jaffa I could bring," Bra'tac told them, "My warriors have Baal's forces on the retreat, on the ground and in the sky. The Tau'ri are securing the gate. It will be some minutes yet before we can dial out again."
"It would seem I owe you once more," Malek remarked dryly, and Bra'tac quirked a smile.
"Come," he gestured, and they slowly followed him down, at long last, to the vicinity of the gate. The fighting had stopped, and Tau'ri and Jaffa were running around shouting orders, and picking up the wounded. The dead Tok'ra were piled several deep in places, and the sand before the gate was soaked with blood. She could feel herself beginning to shake with shock.
"I regret your losses have been considerable," Bra'tac commented, gravely, as they stood briefly, trying to take it in. Medical personnel were now hurrying through the gate, to prepare the wounded and the others for evacuation. "Perhaps, if I had persuaded my fellows to lend aid in a more timely fashion…"
"Their deaths are the fault of Baal alone," Malek said firmly, although his face was stricken. Eleanor began to wander towards the busying people, filled with the vauge and terrible notion that she had to help, somehow. The dying lay all around her, and she dreaded seeing Jacob/Selmak amongst them. But they would be back in the gully, if they were anywhere. She glanced back and saw Malek heading back that way with two other Tok'ra, Bra'tac watching her warily, a solemn expression on his face.
The wormhole shut down, and, at last, someone re-dialled Earth from their end, and sent the iris code through. But she barely noticed. She had seen, ahead, at the edge of the rocks, a vaguely familiar figure, and walked dazedly over. She recognised the guard who had given her the water, lying on the ground. He was dead. It was obvious that he was dead, and she did not know why she thought that crouching to take his non-existent pulse would tell her any different. She closed his eyes, then raised her own again, and saw, almost invisible against the sand, another figure propped against the rocks, that she also knew, surrounded on all sides by his fallen enemies. Another who had fought to the bitter end. She hastened over, having to pick her way amongst piled Jaffa bodies as she did so. The Tok'ra sitting propped against the stones still had his zat in his hand. Her heart wrenched with an unbearable pain. All this, because of what she was, because of what she represented, because of the promise she held and the threat she posed.
"Delek," she whispered, reaching to brush back the dark hair from his bloodied face. His eyes flickered open, and he actually smiled.
"Kyen," the host told her, his breathing ragged and ominously rattling, and she smiled back; it was the least she could do, but the most she could manage. She did not know what to say. What was there to say? Thank you? I'm sorry? When all she could think was: dear god, underneath it all you're just a boy. You're just a boy.
"I'll get a medic," she said instead, but was stayed by his hand on hers.
"It will do no good," and this time it was Delek's voice rasping against her ears. "Kyen is beyond any healing. We would not take them from those who can yet be aided." Another harsh breath. "We are glad…that you are unharmed." His face was peaceful, if strained. It seemed enough for him, that his death had a purpose. It was so little to give him. Her eyes were stinging unbearably, but her mind was clear for the first time since she had got here, and, for the first time, she was completely calm. She could see her future, and she could face it, unafraid.
"What about you?"
"You cannot be serious." He grimaced, then Kyen was back.
"Delek has no wish for a willful Tau'ri host. He thinks there will be nothing you will agree upon, and it will be a poor blending. I am urging him to accept."
"I too am wounded," Delek answered himself, "I may not be able to leave you for another host. You may be stuck with me until your death, and I with you. The thought is, frankly, unappealing." Well that may not be long at all, she thought grimly, marvelling, in spite of herself, at how he managed to retain his haughty demeanour. She glanced briefly around at the slaughter of the battlefield, then back at him. There was still noise and confusion all around, but the smell of smoke and blood and groans of the dying didn't impinge itself on her consciously; there was, still, only what was directly in front of her. At last, she spoke.
"This – all of this – is about survival. It's nothing more noble or profound than that. And we must make the best we can of it. Would you surrender now, when you fought so hard? Would you really rather die, when there's a chance still to live?" He looked deeply troubled then.
"Kyen wishes me to live," he said at last, his voice fading. He took a great, shuddering breath, looking her squarely in the eyes.
"Well?"
"I have no desire to be a queen," he admitted. She smiled thinly, meeting his frank, ageless gaze.
"Neither do I. At least we can agree upon that." His strength was clearly failing fast, and his head drooped, tiredly.
"Yes," came the barest sibilant hiss. She waited.
"I have never willingly kissed anyone," Kyen's voice was a tremulous whisper, "But I will, if it will save my Delek. Please, take care of him, and he will protect you."
"May I?" she asked carefully, swallowing painfully past the lump in her throat, and he nodded. He still looked very young, and very frightened, but his chin lifted defiantly, and a look of calm resolve settled on his handsome features. Slowly, she reached towards him, stroked his hair again, cradled his face, and, gently, tenderly, pressed her lips to his, giving him the sweetest kiss she was able to. His lips shivered under hers, and he kissed her back, just a little, before opening his mouth. She mirrored him, and felt the leap and sting of the symbiote as it left his body and entered hers. The man in her arms heaved one last shuddering breath, then went still. Kyen, came the faint, agonised voice in her mind. She held him sorrowfully for a moment, then released his body and turned to face the gate. The others were standing a short distance away, watching silently: Malek and Bra'tac with – thank god – Jacob/Selmak supported between them, bloody but alive, and looking faintly appalled.
"We must go," Malek said, and his voice was as steady as always, though there were tears streaking through the dirt on his face. She fell in beside them, and they walked back through the gate together; in that sense, at least, as they had arrived.