Meritaten, Goa'uld queen and ruler of the Island of Cria, beloved of Aten, walked out onto a balcony on the cliff side of the Fortress. Dusk had come, and with it, a feeling of unease. The air was filled with the crashing of the waves on the Reef Ridge and the tangy scent of salt spray. She moved proudly, certain of her own importance even with no audience to impress. She was sheathed in a diaphanous white gown that gleamed in the light and left nothing of the lush body beneath it hidden. The low cut neckline was adorned with a heavy color of lapis and carnelian – a gift centuries past from her god Aten. Her extraordinary face was made more so by eyes as black as a starless night, framed in thick lines of kohl. Black hair rippled to her shoulders. A set of graceful wings rose up above her head and she opened them now, fanning them slightly in the evening breeze.

She would have liked to launch from the balcony. But her relationship with her current host had never been as one sided as she wanted. This host was strong. All the Trevithian hosts had proven to be; but this one had raged and fought with her for centuries. She had been one of the last to be taken from the Werys and the Goa'uld had lost the last of their Jaffa in the carnage.

Meritaten could control this host most of the time. But she didn't want to plunge into the sea because her host sensed a chance to kill them both; and Meritaten had no doubt that the host would kill them given half a chance. They were in an untenable position on the island. Their population was dying and even their two prisoners would not change that – unless they had information about the Stargate and how they had come through it and where they had come from.

The decision was on whom to give the new hosts to was hers and she had made it. She was waiting now for the man who had served her well for decades. He had been her lover once and had served her well there too, until his current host had aged beyond regenerating. Footsteps alerted her to his presence, though he remained in absolute silence until she deigned to notice him.

Akhetaten – the horizon of the Aten – studied the lovely form of his Queen and wished, not for the first time, that he had also been given a winged host all those decades past.

Without turning around, Meritaten asked "Whom do you serve Akhetaten? Tell me the list in order."

Her voice was midnight, sepulchral and deadly and it sent icy claws ripping down his spine. His Queen was not the kind to rant or scream when she was angry. She didn't have to.

He straightened his shoulders as best he could, "I serve my God, the living Aten who creates life; and then my Queen. Then my people and then the Island of Cria, our home."

"Remember that," Meritaten said, turning finally. Moonlight gleamed off ebony wings. "Remember it with everything you are. Now go to the Tower and choose a new host."

Akhetaten dropped, slowly and painfully, to one knee and bowed his head.

"My god's will is my life" he said.

Meritaten regarded him for a moment, not really believing a word of it, and then turned back to face the sea.

"Akhetaten" she said, when she heard him struggle back to his feet.

"My Queen?"

"The older man may have more useful information to provide us" she said, neutrally.

"Yes, my Queen," he said.

Bowing and walking backwards even though his Queen still looked out to sea, Akhetaten left the balcony.

A moment later, Meritaten heard a soft pop. A pain pricked her just above her shoulder blade, like the sharp sting of an insect. She slapped at it and pulled a long dart out of her back. Frowning and finding no immediate outlet for her outrage, she spun around to look for whatever fool had shot at her with so ineffectual a weapon.

Spinning was a bad idea however. A moment later, the entire world was spinning. A gray haze formed before her eyes that eventually slid into black and Meritaten dropped to the floor.

(0)

From the rooftop above and to the left of the balcony, Solivar watched as his sister – or at least his sister's body – crumbled and fell. Part of him – that which was still her brother – was horrified to watch her fall in such a way, certain she was dead. Another part of him – the warrior – was more than slightly impressed that the ethereal looking woman beside him had made that shot, in the dark, from a rooftop a thousand yards away.

Solivar turned to regard Samantha Carter with new respect. She had been flown across land and sea and just recently up to the rooftop – and was only thrilled by it. If Solivar had been forced to label her previous to this he would have guessed she was their group's Empath.

It was now obviously clear that she was more like Rhaevan – a Warrior.

Misunderstanding Solivar's level scrutiny, Sam said, "She's fine."

"You assured me, she would be," Solivar said, solemnly. "I will take her to sea cliff. Do you wish someone to return for you?"

"No, I'll be rejoining my team," Carter said, firmly. She glanced over her shoulder at the prison tower, gleaming black and mahogany in the moonlight and not that far away.

Solivar considered arguing with her and rejected it. Any good member of his own Flight would insist on remaining behind until they were all together; and Samantha Carter was a very good member of her team.

"You should leave with her, Solivar, "Carter said, and he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was serious, "We don't know how long that drug will affect her. We can't chance her waking up and starting to scream. You know what you have to do?"

Her voice again told him more than her words. She understood how difficult it would be for Solivar to imprison his own sister until they could contact the Tok'ra. But it had to be done. She had not known Solivar very long, but she already knew with all of her military honed senses that he had that 'something' that made a great leader. He would make the tough decisions and stick to them.

Sam hoped this adventure would prove to be successful enough that it would form the basis of a strong alliance with Solivar and his people.

"Yes" he said, shortly "I will tell the rest of the Flight to wait for you."

Sam nodded and moonlight glinted off blond hair with the movement. Without another word, Solivar spread his wings and sailed silently down to the balcony. He lifted his sister into his powerful arms and then launched once more into the air. Samantha waited until he vanished into the distance and the dark and then whispered softly into her radio

"Sir?"

"Go ahead," O'Neill's voice crackled with static.

"Mission accomplished. Permission to join you?"

"Making my way to the prison tower. Get there best possible speed."

"Yes, sir."

Solivar had brought her up here, but she was on her own getting down. Sam slung the tranquilizer gun over her shoulder, settling the strap comfortable and securely. She made her way to the edge of the roof, unpacked and secured her rappelling gear and began to climb down.