Chapter 6, part 2

The timing wasn't perfect; she had to wait another twenty nervous minutes before the map on her HUD suddenly flashed with multiple new contacts, their positions and movements fed to her in real time by Teal'c through a direct data stream.

"Here I go," she said to herself and the Death Glider dived towards the planet. She braced herself; atmospheric reentry was never a fun experience, even with the inertial dampeners taking most of the edge off.

She was some thirty kilometers above the surface when new dots appeared on the map, this time coming from the direction of the palace. Ahmose mounted up an impressive defense: she counted at least five Al'kesh and a dozen Death Gliders. And there was something else, something huge… was that a Ha'tak? She squinted through the canopy, and thought she saw the pyramid-shaped ship rising above the Jaffa settlement adjacent to the palace, but it could be just her imagination – she was still too high to see much on the ground.

Before she achieved an altitude of ten kilometers, the battle begun; she could now see the Free Jaffa vessels flying in at a steep angle, maneuvering wildly, and bursts of light that indicated shots fired. Ha'tak or not, Ahmose's forces were doomed to fail confronted with the armada coming to get them.

Alice skirted the area of the battle with a wide berth. She'd decided to try and come to the palace from the other side; but as she was just starting to veer towards it, a new squadron of Al'kesh appeared on her radar. It seemed that the Free Jaffa's tactic was to put Ahmose between two fires. Alice puffed, irritated, and mentally kicked the gear to maximum. She needed to slip in between them before the two opposing forces clashed. Unfortunately the Goa'uld noticed the danger coming for them from the other direction and part of their defense was already turning around. Ten seconds later two Gliders swerved away from the group and were now coming straight onto her.

Alice took a deep breath. Her mind was totally clear, her focus razor-sharp; she was aware of all impulses coming in, her brain was collecting, analyzing and reacting to information within milliseconds. The combat zone as represented on the HUD map was three-dimensional in her mind, even though she couldn't see it all; the main body of Ahmose's forces engaged with the Free Jaffa vessels on her two o'clock, the additional aircraft coming from the left, the smaller part of the Goa'uld fleet breaking free and turning towards them, the two hostiles approaching her at supersonic speed, her own little fighter heading straight towards the palace now. The surface of the planet beneath her was all blurred, the clear skies above deep blue, and the only sound she could hear was the steady beat of her heart. She was high on adrenaline.

Ten seconds passed; the two enemies coming onto her were now no more than a klick out.

Let's play, shall we? She thought. We'll see just how much you know about maneuvering.

A second later, she suddenly dived, reducing speed slightly; the oncoming Gliders came on, firing their cannons, missed completely and passed her; just as they did, she pulled sharply up into a barrel roll, made a tight inverted loop, effectively turning a hundred and eighty degrees, and just like that she was sitting on the hostiles' tails; cutting the distance was as easy as increasing speed. The two fighters in front of her broke in opposite directions in wide arches; she chose the left one to pursue, turned after him nose-down, rolling low, and then swung sharply in his direction, immediately climbing up to his plane again. Having thus cut the corner of his turn, she was on his six and within range. Flying just a little above him, she mentally stepped on the gas and her fighter lurched forward, firing from its cannons. She matched the fleeing Glider's speed and then started to overtake it slowly, creeping closer and closer and readjusting her aim as she went. She could swear it took minutes, but it was actually over within fifteen seconds; she saw a satisfying blast of light and suddenly the enemy was falling behind, dropping from the sky in wild spirals. The other hostile was just returning, still a good ten klicks away; a quick glance onto the HUD map told her she was now closer to the palace than the Glider. It was gaining speed, chasing after her, but she knew it wouldn't get her anymore. The battle was now being fought on two fronts, on her right and left, and the route to her target was clear. She started descending, reducing speed at the same time, slamming on the brakes in her mind. Nevertheless, she overshot and had to go into a spin over the palace, still slowing down and dropping lower and lower until she finally stopped right atop the inner garden. The Glider hovered in place, more stable than any helicopter she's ever flown.

"Cool," she murmured to herself. That was something her 302 couldn't do. She had to concentrate on the next problem, though; there were armed Jaffa issuing from entrances to the building, their staff weapons trained on her Glider; they were apparently unsure whether she was a friend or foe. Alice frowned; that was a complication, although hardly unforeseen. She turned slightly, readjusted her aim and fired. Energy bursts from her twin staff cannons sent torrents of dirt flying up, Jaffa jumping away behind trees and columns, some falling down on the ground, dead or wounded, she couldn't say. It was time. She turned the outbound communication back on and fired a few more shots.

"This is Tinkerbell," she said. "Target reached, I'm heading out."

The down-pointed tips of the Glider's wings touched the ground lightly and the machine hung over the grass.

"Roger that, Tinkerbell. Do a job, will ya?"

"Yes, sir." The canopy was already opening. She grabbed the edge of the cockpit and swung herself out, landing a few feet down with a graceless thud. Crouched, she stole a quick glance around; there were no Jaffa in her immediate vicinity so she rose and, keeping low, she ran beneath the Glider's wing and then hid behind a nearby tree. The garden was huge; it didn't look half as big from above. She knew she didn't have much time, though; the guards would soon enough reach the fighter. She needed to be inside the palace by then.

She made towards the direction she knew the door was, crossing the garden in long, hurried strides, from tree to tree. The last one had her hiding behind a column supporting the second story of the palace, creating a corridor open to the courtyard. There she saw the door she needed to go through; only it was guarded by two Jaffa with staff weapons and angry expressions.

Alice took a deep breath. This was it. Now it was truly beginning; the dogfight and her slipshod run through the garden was just a preface, the worst was going to come now. Adrenaline whooshing in her ears, she crouched down behind the column – she was slim enough that it hid her entirely – and got the zat from its holster fixed to her right calf. Then she straightened up, inhaled deeply again and swung around the column. The Jaffa didn't even see her before she had her first shot; the one on the left, farther from her, fell down, swathed in blue sparks. Before the other one had his staff up and aimed, Alice fired again and he joined his comrade on the ground. She turned around quickly to see if there was no danger behind, and then run to the entrance. It was the kind of sliding door she saw before on the Al'kesh, after the Prometheus had been hijacked by Vala Mal Doraan. Thankfully, it wasn't locked; it was enough to touch a control switch on the right and it slid open. She slipped inside and looked around.

The corridor was poorly lit, but the walls were glowing slightly with reddish gold, much like on the Al'kesh. She didn't see anyone for the moment. She squatted down again and hid the zat beneath her skirt. Then she went left, initially at a brisk pace, but then she thought better and made herself go slower. Her heart was beating so hard she could swear anyone ten feet away would hear it; there was cold sweat trickling down her back, and her breathing was rugged like she just ran a marathon. But it wouldn't do to give herself away by running around. She was dressed like one of the human slaves expressly so that anyone who happened to see her on the corridors would think she belonged there; she had to act like it.

The first part of her journey through unfamiliar corridors was uneventful; she didn't meet anyone, nor see or hear anything. Only her thumping heart, heavy breathing and soft footfalls were audible. Despite having memorized the schematics of the building, finding her way proved more difficult than she'd thought it would be. Everything looked the same to her, walls, doors, twists and turns of corridors. If not for her better-than-ordinary recall, she'd be hopelessly lost. As it was, she almost made it to the throne room, which for Goa'ulds often doubled as control room, where she expected to find both Ahmose and Aat, before a sound of approaching footsteps stopped her in her tracks. For a moment she just stood there, unsure what to do: bolt and hide in one of the corridor's turns? Go for the zat? Use the disguise? There was no time to dawdle; whoever was coming, he was about to turn the corner. Alice took a deep breath, inclined her head a bit, looking down, and resumed her walk, now even slower. Ten seconds later a Jaffa guard appeared in front of her. She stopped and bent her knees slightly, bowing in his direction. He gave her one perfunctory glance and hurried past her. Soon the sound of his steps died down; Alice was, again, quite alone.

She let out a long breath. Straightening up, she proceeded down the corridor again, picking up the pace a bit now. She was close.

She didn't meet anyone else on her way; it was weird. She thought there'd be panic, or at least some busy helter-skelter. Instead – dead silence. There weren't even any guards posted before the throne room's door. She paused there, standing close, touching the cool metal surface with the tips of her fingers, listening intently. Not one sound came to her from inside. Frowning, she moved to one side and pushed the switch. The door opened and she looked out into the room.

It was grand; tall and wide with walls coated with gold and incrusted with precious stones, a rich carmine carpet spread on the floor from the throne all the way to the main entrance. It was also completely empty.

"Crap," Alice muttered to herself. This was not good. Now she had to run around the place looking for freaking Goa'ulds.

"Tar Kree!" A sudden booming voice cried behind her. She jumped, turned around and beheld two Jaffa warriors in full armor standing not five feet away. A moment of panic rushed through her and then adrenaline, already pumping in her veins, kicked her into the next gear; her mind was suddenly clear, fight or flight instinct temporarily suspended. She dropped to her knees and bowed low, almost touching her head to the floor, looking up through her eyelashes.

One of the guards said something to her; her rudimentary Goa'uld did not allow her to understand it fully, but she recognized a few words: slave, forbidden and punishment.

"Shek kree, quell shak!" Alice replied in a low, trembling voice; at the same time, she was slowly moving her hand down. If they started shooting, she'd have no more than a couple of seconds to reach her zat. But the second Jaffa said something to the first one and waved his hand in the direction of the empty throne room. His companion agreed and then addressed Alice. She understood slave quarters and nodded wildly, murmuring something incoherent for better effect. The two Jaffa ignored that and walked by her; the one who first spoke to her kicked her in the side as he passed, his metal-covered boot burying itself deeply in her flesh. She moaned, but didn't get up until their footfalls faded completely away. Then she straightened up with another groan; she'd have a giant bruise. But I guess I was lucky he didn't feel like shooting me for good measure, she thought, standing up and taking a few deep breaths to calm down. She needed to move from there. But where to? Obviously, Ahmose was nowhere near; the lack of guards was indication enough. Where then?

An invasion has just started; any self-respecting commander would make their way to an operations room, as did the Goa'uld, surely. But if not in the throne room, then where such a place could be located? It had to be secure, possibly fortified… maybe like a bunker? That meant underground. Alice recalled the schematics; there was a staircase leading down just at the end of the corridor on the other side of the throne room. So that was probably where the two Jaffa have gone. The idea of following them was not pleasant at the least, but short of abandoning the mission right there and then, Alice didn't really see any options. So she took another deep, calming breath and crossed the empty throne room.

She proceeded slowly through the corridor, pausing at every turn and listening for footsteps or other sounds before peering 'round the corner. She saw the first guard planted in front of what she knew was the entrance to the staircase. There was no way he would let her go down, not in the middle of an invasion; she had to neutralize him. Would it be enough to incapacitate him with a zat? Or should she kill him?

She got the zat out and then stood motionless for a moment, eyes half-closed, weighing her options. If she shot him once and then had to retreat the same way, she'd have to face him again; not to mention that he could raise an alarm before she could finish the mission. But could she just kill him in cold blood? She wasn't sure.

She gritted her teeth and stepped around the corner with the zat ready in her hand. The Jaffa was taken completely by surprise, but she just couldn't bring herself to make the second shot. She stepped over his body, still sparkling with blue lights and entered the staircase. It looked empty, but she made her way down cautiously, taking time before each turn to listen attentively. About three floors down, she began picking up some muffled sounds, as if coming through a thick wall. Raised voices, machine beeping, fading scream from afar. Then she reached the last landing and a quick glance over the handrail told her there were more guards waiting on the bottom of the stairs. Two Jaffa on the left, standing close to each other, one on the right and one farther away, deeper inside the corridor.

Here goes nothing, Alice thought to herself, inhaled and run across the landing, lifting the zat to her eyes. It didn't have an iron sight like a proper gun, but the decorative part on its head could help in aiming nevertheless. A zat had an additional advantage over a pistol: it was possible to take out multiple targets with one shot, if they were close enough. The two Jaffa on the left fell with cries of – surprise? pain? Probably both. But it alerted the remaining two guards and when Alice started flying down the last flight of stairs, both of them aimed their staffs at her. She knew how inaccurate these weapons were; she also knew that they were dangerous in the hands of skilled warriors, and any Goa'uld's private guard must have consisted of the best of the best. So she did the only thing that seemed logical: she launched herself off the stairs, diving down head first. This kind of acrobatics looked cool in movies, but in real life landing on the ground with outstretched arms and legs was very painful and it blew the wind out of Alice for a second. Nevertheless, she instantly rolled to her left, ending up on her back, and an energy burst scorched the floor in the exact spot where she lay a split second before. She rolled again in another direction, narrowly missing another shot, and now lying on her stomach, she took aim and fired. The Jaffa closer to her fell down, but the other one was running to her, his staff trailed on her. Gasping for air, she pushed herself off the ground and jumped to her feet, trying to ignore the sharp pain it caused in her hands and knees. Another energy blast flew so close to her it actually singed her hair on one side; she stepped sideways, fired a shot and missed. The Jaffa was near now, firing again; Alice swerved, narrowly avoiding a hit and finally got the last guard with a rather haphazard shot to the leg. It didn't matter, though. The blue sparks spread over his entire body and he fell to the ground with a grunt, unconscious like his companions.

Alice stood rooted to her spot for a long while, her heart beating like a fluttering bird in a cage, sweat pouring down her face. The corridor stank of plasma discharges from staff weapons, and she could clearly discern the stench of her own burnt hair.

"Get it together, Boyd," she mumbled to herself, trying to calm her breathing. She didn't have much time. At any moment someone could appear in the corridor and the next fight might not go so well. She willed her limbs to move and walk down the corridor. There were doors on both sides, but they appeared to be shut and unused, so she continued until turning the next corner revealed a wider passage, split into three ways a dozen or so paces further. Alice came up to this junction slowly and cautiously, taking care to not make any noise; the sounds she heard before were clearer now. The voices and beeping were coming from the right; she guessed that it was where the Ahmose's command center must be. But there was also something coming from the left, too; it sounded like a crackle of electricity, muffled voices and low moans. Prison, she thought and an idea struck her at once. What if Aat wasn't with Ahmose? What if he made her? There was a full Jaffa invasion going on; if Alice were in Aat's place, she would have wanted to get out. There was no need to keep up the pretense anymore; Ahmose was going down, one way or another. Wouldn't she try to get out? Possibly. But would she be able to? Probably not. And so if she was caught, wouldn't she be in a holding cell, here in the dungeon? There was another thing, too. Who else Ahmose would possibly hate enough to continue torturing when there was a full scale attack being launched against him? She was supposed to be his bride; from what she knew about the Goa'uld, Alice guessed they were not forgiving types. Probably even if he knew there was no way for him to get out alive, he'd like to punish the woman who'd betrayed him.

This was only speculation, Alice didn't have any real reason to think she'd find Aat imprisoned there. But something inside told her she would; some instinct or hunch made her turn left and continue on until she reached the first holding cell. It was empty, but the voices and the moaning were coming from close by. There were no guards in the corridor, though. Slowly, clutching the zat in both her hands, slippery with sweat, she passed cell after cell, nearing the place where the corridor ended with a solid wall. There, however, in the last cell on the left, she finally found her target.

Aat was a pretty blonde with big, blue eyes; she looked thirty, thought Alice knew that even the host must have been much older, kept in shape by the Tok'ra symbiote. The way Alice knew it was Aat was because she was spread-eagled on the wall, chained, and a giant of a Jaffa without armor poked her with a torturing device Alice knew was called Rod of Anguish; when it touched the woman's flesh, she cried out, pulling on her manacles, and a white light shone from her mouth and eyes. The moment the stick was clear of her body, she slumped down, visibly exhausted, but she lifted her head defiantly and her eyes glowed.

"Torture me all you want," she said in a deep, echoing voice. "I will tell you nothing."

"Good," the Jaffa answered, lifting the rod again. "My Lord Ahmose does not require your cooperation. He only wants your pain." And he stabbed her again. The light flashed and she let out a long, agonizing wail. Alice, hidden behind the corner of the wall, squeezed the zat slightly, but she didn't shoot. She didn't know if the energy from the zat could travel through the Rod of Anguish and hurt Aat, too, but she thought she'd better not take a chance. Watching the torture was difficult, though; it seemed to last and last, and all she could do was avert her eyes and screw her face up. Finally, it stopped; the Jaffa took away the stick and allowed Aat a moment of rest.

"Did you have enough?" He said with a perverse pleasure in his voice. "I am not supposed to kill you… yet, but I love testing my subjects' strength. I, ah… enjoy my work."

Alice emerged from behind the corner, put the zat between the bars of the cell door and aimed at the Jaffa.

"Oh, yeah?" She said, cold fury sweeping over her. "Well, enjoy that, you son of a bitch." And she shot him, twice in quick succession. He fell to the ground and behind him, Aat was looking at her with an expression of vengeful satisfaction mixed with surprise.

Alice stood motionless for a moment, just looking; realization of what she'd just done was dawning on her. She killed someone. She killed him in cold blood, while he had his back to her. He was alive ten seconds ago, and now he lay there, quite dead. She killed someone. No; she murdered someone. She didn't need to do that; she could have shot him once, only to incapacitate him; but she saw him torturing this poor woman, and something in her broke. She murdered him. It wasn't necessary; it wasn't a hostile sitting on her tail, looking for an opening to blast her out of the sky. It wasn't an enemy shooting at her with a weapon, trying to kill her. He had his back to her. She could have just stunned him. But she got so angry that she murdered him. It wasn't defense; it wasn't even justice; it was revenge.

"Are you just gonna stand there and wait for others to come?" Aat's voice broke through the haze and Alice blinked wildly. It wasn't the deep, echoing double with which the Tok'ra spoke before; it sounded normal, human. Was it the host talking?

"Sorry," Alice mumbled and stepped over to the cell door. It wasn't locked, so she just swung it open and stepped inside. Trying to avoid looking at the dead body on the ground, she walked up to the prisoner and eyed her shackles. They were secured in a way that didn't require a key and could be easily opened – unless you were the one chained to the wall. Alice unlocked one and had to catch Aat before she slid to the ground; she was very weak. Supporting her with one hand, Alice fumbled with the other manacle for a minute before this one, too, cracked open. Both women took a few steps and Alice helped the Tok'ra sit on the ground for a moment, to gather her strength.

"Thank you," the woman said, still in a human voice. "But who are you? Are you one of the slaves here?"

Alice didn't respond at once; she looked out the cell into the corridor to make sure they were still quite alone.

"I'm Lieutenant Alice Boyd, United States Air Force," she said then, turning to Aat. "A Tau'ri," she added by way of explanation. "I was sent here to rescue you. That is, if my presumption is correct and you truly are a Tok'ra named Aat."

The woman raised her eyebrows; her previously rapid, shallow breathing was calming a little.

"I am Mona. I share a body with Aat."

"So you're her… host?" It felt odd to be talking to one woman, knowing that there are in fact two minds in there.

"I am. We have suffered greatly at the hand of this brute." Mona waved her hand towards the dead Jaffa. "Aat took a step back to put us back into order. At least enough to walk and leave here. I presume you have a plan?"

"I do." Alice nodded, checking the corridor again. Still empty. "Although I expected to find you sooner. By now surely Ahmose knows there's an intruder in the palace."

"I wouldn't worry too much." Mona shook her head and let a short moan slip. "Our whole body still hurts… anyway, Ahmose is more preoccupied with the invasion right now than a single intruder penetrating his precious palace. I wouldn't be surprised if he boarded his Ha'tak and tried to leave the planet altogether."

"He wouldn't fly away far," Alice remarked, remembering the Free Jaffa fleet. "Anyway, my ship is orbiting the planet and they can beam us up, but the palace is shielded. We must get clear of the affected area first, and that means we need to make our way out of the palace and through the surrounding grounds until we're well and far enough. It won't be easy."

"We don't need to go that far," Mona contradicted. "It's true that Ba'al installed a jamming device here in the palace after the Tau'ri started using the Asgard beaming technology. But Aat and I know where it is and how to turn it off. If we deactivate it, your people can transport us from here right away, correct?"

"Yes." Alice arched her eyebrow. "But won't it be heavily guarded?"

"Yes." This time the woman's voice sounded deeper again, and her eyes flashed at the same time. "But we still have a better chance of surviving if we go after the jamming device."

Alice nodded.

"Aat, I presume?"

"Yes." The Tok'ra got to her feet; she still looked frail and hurt, but apparently she was well enough to walk again. "I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude, Tau'ri. It is not something I ever thought I'd say, but… thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. We may still end up dead." Alice waved her hand dismissively. "If you're well enough, we should move out. The sooner we get the hell outta here, the better."

"Yes." Aat bent over the body of the dead Jaffa and took his zat. "The jamming device will be installed in the power generator room. Follow me and I'll show you."

Alice shook her head.

"No, I'll go first, you tell me where to go and cover my back. Come on, let's go." And she walked out the cell door.

"As you wish." The Tok'ra said from behind her, just a shade of disapproval in her voice. She probably didn't enjoy being ordered around by a Tau'ri, but Alice didn't trust her strength enough to let her go first just yet.

They got to the junction of the corridors without any issues, but Alice knew it was about to change.

"Left," Mona breathed behind her and Alice nodded appreciatively. Aat's deeper tones were much more audible; it made sense for the host to speak.

They turned into the middle passage; if they proceeded straight ahead, they'd get to Ahmose's command center, but as it was, they were crossing an empty corridor, going slowly and pausing every few feet to listen. After a few minutes they reached a huge double door; Alice touched the control switch to open it, but nothing happened.

"It's shut," Aat stated the obvious. "Let me try, if we're lucky Ahmose hasn't changed the codes yet…" She put her hand on the switch, waited for a moment, frowning, and then the door slid open.

Alice stepped sideways to hide behind the wall, but it was too late; someone inside spotted her and an energy burst whooshed past her as she moved. She managed to take cover, however, and subsequent shots couldn't reach her. As they died down, Alice risked a quick look behind the corner into the room.

It was round and huge; bigger than the 302 bay on the Prometheus. There was an enormous machine standing in the middle, shaped like a trunk of a tree, wider at the bottom and split into several parts beneath the ceiling; a number of pipes and cables were issuing from them. Crystal control stations and other machines were lined up against the walls. Of more vital importance at that moment, however, were about a dozen Jaffa planted all over the room, all of them with staff weapons trailed on the entrance. The moment they saw Alice's head emerging from behind the wall, they took aim and fired; she just managed to avoid getting shot by a hair.

"Not good," she said to Aat, who was hiding on the other side of the door. "I counted thirteen hostiles." The aviator terminology permeated into her speech when she was stressed, apparently. "This seems to be the only entrance, so if we're going in, it's through here."

"I only said we would have a chance at surviving this," Aat commented. "It's too late now to go back. The Jaffa would have warned Ahmose that we're trying to get into the generator room by now and more troops are going to come after us."

"Now or never then." Alice took a deep breath and looked straight at the Tok'ra who nodded and they both swung around their respective corners with zats in their hands.

Alice's first shot got the closest Jaffa, but then she had to swerve hard to avoid getting hit by a plasma blast from a staff weapon. She literally twirled sideways and got another accurate shot. On the other side of the room Aat was firing rapidly, but she was more stationery; by the time her third victim fell, another Jaffa scored a hit. The Tok'ra landed on the ground with a scorched wound on her shoulder, but it didn't immobilize her. A human wouldn't get up after such an injury, but she wasn't exactly human; she rolled over, avoiding another shot, fired again and jumped back to her feet, teetering a bit, which actually saved her from a hit.

At the same time Alice was dancing around the room, moving fast and changing directions of her steps often. She didn't have the same kind of luxury as Aat; one direct hit from the staff weapon was probably all it would take to kill her. She was shooting less frequently, too, and so by the time the Tok'ra dispensed with her sixth target, Alice still only scored three. They were fighting in close quarters now, too; a little more and they would be able to club her over the head with their staffs. Four Jaffa were left; Alice got one with a fluky shot to the head, but another flanked her from the other direction. He fired, she dropped to the ground, landing on her already sore palms and knees, her hair singed again. She raised her zat and squeezed, but missed; another energy blast burst right next to her hand. She pushed herself up to a kneeling position, shot and scored a hit this time. She was so preoccupied with the Jaffa on her flank, however, that she neglected to observe the remaining two; one was dodging Aat's rapid fire, but the other Jaffa came up to her from behind and stroke her on the back with his staff. Pain exploded somewhere over her collarbone and she was sure it broke; the force of the blow threw her down on the floor and knocked the wind out of her. The zat flew from her hand and slid somewhere under a crystal control station nearby. For a second Alice felt as if she was unable to move; she didn't know if it was the pain or the suddenness of the experience, but it overwhelmed her. But she heard approaching steps of the Jaffa's heavy boots and her adrenaline spiked again, triggering the fight or flight response. She managed to roll over to her back, even though it sent another wave of pain to her brain; the Jaffa's staff was coming down again, aimed at her head now. She knew there was no way for her to par such a blow; she just wasn't strong enough. So she rolled again and the staff struck the floor with an audible crack. Alice tried to get up, but her body was protesting and she fell again. The Jaffa was raising the staff again and this time he'd get her, she was sure; he just needed to take a wider swing. But he never got the chance; the moment the staff started moving down again, a blast of blue light enveloped the Jaffa, he cried out in surprise and pain, and fell right next to where Alice was lying. Few feet away, Aat was standing with her zat raised, breathing hard, the wound in her shoulder blackened and bloody. There were no more Jaffa in line of sight now.

"Thanks," Alice squeaked, her voice even higher than usual.

Aat dropped her arm, walked up to Alice and offered her hand to help her up.

"Don't thank me yet," she said with a ghost of a smile; it looked weird coupled with her deep, echoing voice. "We still have to get out of here."

Alice just moaned in reply. Her entire body felt as if it had been through a close encounter with a press machine. Or a lawn mower. She slowly straightened her back and it felt as if her bones were on fire; but she didn't think she had anything broken, after all. She wanted to tell Aat to get on with it and turn the damn jamming device off, but didn't get the chance.

The first energy blast burst two feet from where the Tok'ra was standing. They both turned and stared at half a dozen Jaffa running through the corridor towards the entrance to the generator room.

"The door," Alice choked, diving in the direction of the entrance. "Get the door!"

They both run, but Aat was closer and got there first. She smashed the control switch and the door slid into place, but not before two of the Jaffa got through. The Tok're could have taken at least one of them, but instead she pointed her zat at the switch and fired. Blue sparks danced over it for a moment and narrow columns of smoke began issuing from the crevices. The five seconds lost were all that the Jaffa needed to get to Aat. Two staffs came down on her, she blocked one of them but the other buried itself in her side, pinning her to the wall.

And then two rapid shots ringed in the closed room and blood and brain fragments splashed the wall and Aat's face; Alice had gotten her Beretta from the holster fixed to her thigh and fired two quick rounds, making 9 millimeter holes in Jaffa heads. The guards slid down on the floor.

Alice breathed and dropped down the gun. Aat looked at her and wiped her face with her hand.

"I short-circuited the door switch, but it won't hold for long," she said as if nothing happened. "We better get on with it."

"Yeah." Alice's voice was very low, almost a whisper. She blinked a couple of times and averted her eyes. So much blood. She couldn't swallow and there was something wrong with her hearing; she could swear the shot still rang in her ears, while all other sounds were muffled.

Aat walked to one of the crystal control stations, contemplated the shelves for a moment and then pulled one out. A line of crystals glowed slightly. She removed one of them and threw it on the ground, where it broke into pieces.

"Should be all," she said to Alice, who still stood rooted to the spot.

"What?"

"Your people can beam us out of here now." There was impatience in the Tok'ra's voice now. From behind the door came sounds of energy blasts; the Jaffa were trying to get in.

"Right." Alice blinked rapidly again and reached to her sash, fumbling with the knot for a moment. Her fingers seemed numb, like when it was too cold and she had no gloves. At last she got the locator beacons and the radio out. "Here, take this." She handed one of the beacons to Aat and then flipped the radio on. "Prometheus, this is Boyd, over."

"Lieutenant!" A crackled, distorted voice came out from the speaker. "We were beginning to worry. What's your status?"

"Sir, I have the target and we're ready for evac." Alice looked at Aat and frowned. "Be advised, we're both a bit roughed up."

"We have a medical team standing by," came the response. "Beaming you up… now."

Alice closed her eyes, but the flash of white light penetrated through her eyelids anyway. A moment later it was gone; the air around was colder and it smelled fresher, though with a tint of something that made her think of machines. She opened her eyes.

They were back on the bridge of the Prometheus. Pendergast and Bolton were both standing in front of them, and behind lurked a couple of EMTs.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," Bolton said, smiling widely at her. "Fucking good job!"

"Thank you, sir."

"Aat, I presume?" Pendergast stepped closer and extended his hand. The Tok'ra shook it. "I am Colonel Pendergast, the commander of this ship. Welcome aboard the Prometheus."

"Thank you." Her voice was now human again. "I am Mona, Aat's host. Aat took a step back to heal us."

"Why don't we help her, then? Our medics will take care of you now. Both of you." Pendergast nodded to Alice. "We'll talk when you've rested a bit."

"Thank you, Colonel. That will be adequate." Mona inclined her head. One of the EMTs approached and gestured for her to follow him. Alice half turned to go after her, then hesitated and looked at her squadron commander.

"Report to the infirmary now, Lieutenant," Bolton ordered. "We'll have a debriefing later."

"Thank you, sir." Alice nodded and left the bridge. It felt odd, this sudden passage from fighting for her life down there to inaction here. Every step she took seemed harder, as if her body was going stale; she knew it was the effect of adrenaline wearing off, perhaps even shock setting in, but knowing didn't make it any better. She felt empty inside; like all the energy was suddenly sucked out of her. She went through the doctor's examination in a haze, not remembering half of her answers, and only reacting more lively when he checked her collarbone for fractures and then bandaged her palms and knees. When she was finally allowed to lie down, she welcomed the nothingness that enveloped her instantly and plunged into a dreamless sleep.

The debriefing lasted several hours. Aat wasn't very chatty and considered the whole thing beneath her, but cooperated in her own reluctant way, maybe moved by gratitude at being rescued from certain death. The Prometheus dropped her off on a planet with a Gate and returned to patrolling the Solar System. Alice, of course, couldn't avoid being thoroughly grilled about the events on P2K-254 and by the end of the day she was utterly fed up with the entire proceedings. It wasn't wholly bad, though; she had to admit that it was quite nice to hear variants of "good job" coming from Bolton at several points during the debriefing.

"And how do you feel now, Boyd?" He asked eventually, at the very end of their meeting.

"I'm okay," she replied, keeping her eyes cast down. "Sore. Bit tired."

"Well, good. I'm letting you off the hook now. You can go get some well-earned rest, Lieutenant."

She nodded in thanks, saluted and left the briefing room. It was mealtime and she hoped Fiona would be in the mess, or otherwise not in their room. Alice needed a moment alone. She had just lied to her squadron commander.

She wasn't okay. She was alright physically; though her entire body was aching, it wasn't anything worse than she's had after some heavy-duty hand-to-hand combat training. It was her soul that was bleeding.

She got to her room – empty, thankfully – and sat down on her bunk. She looked at her bandaged hands, remembering how it felt when she landed on them, tearing off her skin, the burning pain; she remembered the excruciating spasm going through her as the staff came down on her back; the stench of scorched plasma and tinged her; the agonizing moans of Aat, the sudden stillness of her torturer after she, Alice, shot him twice in the back; and the twitching corpses of the two Jaffa in a pool of their own blood. That last image made her shiver.

She killed three people. She had killed more in air combat, but that was different. When you shoot a missile into a fighter, that's it: a weapon striking a machine. You may know that there's a driver inside, you may feel bad about killing him, but you can rationalize it. You killed an enemy, someone who would have killed you if you didn't get him first. It was so easy to dismiss them when you haven't seen their faces. But the three Jaffa she's killed yesterday weren't just some obscure representations of some vague enemy. They were real people, creatures walking, talking, thinking, feeling. Yes, they were enemies; but they were also someone's sons and brothers and husbands and fathers. And the worst were their faces; each of them was now burnt in Alice's near-perfect memory.

They didn't need to die. The Jaffa from the cell, she could have just stunned him. The other two, she could have aimed at their legs or arms. She could have just stopped them. They didn't need to die. They had their backs turned to her. She literally shot them in the backs. She was a murderer. And she was praised for that today! Bolton actually applauded when she described the struggle in the generator room! She felt sick.

How did other people do this? How did her brother do it? She knew he had to have killed people before. He's been over in Iraq for a tour just after the invasion. He rarely talked about it, but always made light of it. Kind of like pilots joked around and bragged about how many hostiles they splashed. But this wasn't like that. This wasn't war. It was murder.

She bowed down, putting her head between her legs, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Her breathing became quick and shallow, adrenaline rising. She wasn't just a killer now; she was a murderer. She shot people in their backs for no reason at all.

The door clicked. Alice straightened up quickly, trying to wipe her face from the sea of emotion that was overwhelming her. She looked at Fiona who's just entered the room.

"Hey," the major said to her. "I heard some rumors about what you did down on the planet yesterday. Nice job."

Alice felt like her face muscles were frozen, but she willed herself to give her roommate a ghost of a smile.

"Thanks." She rose and turned to the door. "I'm gonna grab something to eat."

"Sure, sure."

Alice fled the room, but instead of the chow hall, she went to the engine room. Hicks was on duty and for the first time in her life, she was glad for it. He tolerated her because she outranked him, but they didn't really get along so after a few courtesy words, they could lapse into – albeit slightly uncomfortable – silence. Alice forced herself to focus on work. She needed to keep busy, or she would start thinking – and feeling – again. She couldn't let herself do that; someone might notice and she couldn't let anybody see her fall apart. She had to deal with this… whatever this was. This weakness. She had to get over it somehow. She just didn't know how.