Synopsis:
A follow-up from the previous in the series, 'Fear No Evil'.

The reptilian militaristic Calsharans, under new leadership, have launched a full-scale assault against their chief rivals, the avian makalvari. Their forces also annex human-populated worlds and strike against the Free Jaffa, all to expand their empire. Colonel John Sheppard leads a new SG-1 in this tumultuous time, and that team is comprised of: Doctor Daniel Jackson; an alien 'Nomad' known as Aithris and Staff Sergeant Natalia Tarasovna, a Russian combat engineer.

While this war threatens to draw in not just the team but Earth's military might itself, SG-1 investigates evidence pertaining to a greater, more dangerous enemy. Ancient foes look to subvert the powerful races of the galaxy and turn them against one another, for ends unknown. A conspiracy on Earth has become apparent, one that aids these mysterious 'Demons' and their schemes.

The galaxy is in turmoil, and Sheppard and his team are right in the middle of it.

A time to love, and a time to hate. A time of war, and a time of peace.
- Ecclesiastes 3:8

1: Old Ground

October 20th, 2023

The brilliance of multiple flares filled the night sky, the distant points of dazzling light sizzling and sparking as they rose and slowly fell. Behind them lay an overcast sky, with the first drizzling of rain beginning to fall across the land. The darkened forest below cast long shadows as the flares fell over it, and for a moment there the sight of those illuminating motes of light was strangely beautiful. Their light cut through the night like something divine, and yet with them came significantly dangerous portents. For the flares had been launched by the enemy force to light the way ahead, and across the distant hills a battle ensued between a heavily armed band of human fighters and a significantly larger force of armoured reptilian soldiers.

The militaristic Calsharans had been fighting their war of expansion for nearly six months, relative to Earth time. From their home-world, in some far-off corner of the galaxy, they had spread out like a wave, annexing world after world, subjugating many human populations under their tyrannical yoke. Their reptilian humanoid forms were stronger than most humans, giving even their most basic infantry an edge over many of their enemies. Even elsewhere, they fought against the avian makalvari, an old rival of theirs, and that frontline had ended in a stalemate that the makalvari would not be able to maintain for much longer. And then there was the now shattered Free Jaffa Nation, which had seen several of its key worlds fall to the Calsharan empire, or more specifically had become an extension of the 'Calsharan Systems Union'. It was an all-out galactic war, and yet the vast majority of people back home on Earth had no idea it was being fought. They would go about their lives unaware, and the people behind the stargate program and even Homeworld Command would ensure that ignorance remained. All the while they had made it clear that no Earth forces were to directly intervene. There would be no Earth intervention in this conflict.

Covert operations were permitted, if there was something significant to be gained. Seated in a stolen Calsharan staff car, Colonel John Sheppard mulled over the apparent contradiction: they could not intervene, yet here they were in the midst of an invasion. This planet, designated 'P2X-416' by the computers at the SGC, was home to a fairly advanced human civilisation. It was one that had crossed paths with the SGC many years before, wherein a first contact mission had gone awry because of the political situation between the two rival nations here. Any further contact with this world had been forbidden, and yet fate had landed SG-1 on 'Bedrosia' once again. This time around, the team makeup was very different.

John had been in charge of this team for nearly two years now, since the SGC had been fully recommissioned. Here and now, he was accompanied by one of his team members, a blue-skinned alien warrior by the name of Aithris. He belonged to a so-called race of 'Nomads', named such since their world of origin, Varalan, had been destroyed centuries before. If only to rub salt into the wound further, their more recent home, Sanctuary, had also been destroyed only six months prior. John had been there when it had happened, had even tried to stop it. Whilst the survivors had moved to a remote world far from that last one, 'New Sanctuary' as it had been called, Aithris had elected to remain on Earth. And now he was a fully-fledged member of the team, his muscular physique adorned by the standard drab green uniform of an SG team member and covered over with a thick grey coat to ward off the chilly air of P2X-416.

The Calsharan staff vehicle resembled a grey Jeep of sorts, albeit much larger with bigger wheels and higher suspension. It was pouring rain outside of the vehicle, the water sluicing down the thick windshield. John had parked it on the edge of a dirt road near a mostly rubble-strewn village, one that had been home to a good few hundred Bedrosian citizens. Now it was occupied by a sizeable Calsharan garrison, armoured soldiers milling along only metres from the vehicle. None gave the staff car a second glance, the inside dark and the street outside just as much so. John had his hands on the wheel, idling the engine with the headlights off, watching and waiting for an opportunity to get out of this increasingly awkward situation.

Aithris was seated in the back, keeping low and alert. In the passenger seat on John's left sat a Calsharan officer, outfitted in a sturdy black uniform complete with armour plated vest. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with weary blue eyes and grey scaly skin. John figured he had to be at least forty years old, although with the Calsharans he had come to understand that they lived a little longer than humans on average. The officer appeared uneasy, and he had an electronic data-pad in his lap. He clenched his clawed fingers around it tightly, as if worried it would disappear. He claimed there was critical information on there. They would not find that out until someone went through the data-pad in detail, presumably someone who understood Calsharan encryption. If Valkas had been around, he might have been able to shed some light on it.

The team's former Calsharan squad member had, from John's understanding, gone back in time about one-thousand years. Captain Joanne Bowers had gone with him, all as part of some elaborate plan to fulfil a time loop and stop a dangerous ancient enemy. It was all very confusing stuff for a man such as John Sheppard, who preferred it when things were a little more straightforward.

The ruined houses around them were mostly brick and mortar affairs, yet there were hints of a more advanced society: computerised locks on doors, elaborate digital signs that had, when active, displayed alien symbols advertising the services within. Several Bedrosian weapons were leaning up on a wall nearby, with a few Calsharan soldiers examining them and cataloguing them into a portable computer. Short, lance-like energy weapons, distinctly different to the sturdy black-metal plasma guns the Calsharans favoured. Yet, despite the technology, the Bedrosians were losing this war and in turn losing their home-world to an aggressive occupying force.

John had been sitting here for about fifteen minutes. Their rendezvous with the Calsharan Major had gone smoothly enough. However, before they had had a chance to leave, a Calsharan company had marched into town, having pursued a broken company of Bedrosian soldiers on the retreat. And now John and his companions had been stuck here, waiting for the Calsharans to pass them by. The Major had hardly said a word when his compatriots had stormed into town, whilst John had taken a gamble in sitting them on the roadside, counting on the stolen vehicle to conceal their presence. For now, it was working, and the Calsharan soldiers marching along did not give them a second glance. add to the disguise, it was dark and raining, with the flares lighting up the distant forests well outside the town's edge. John had been watching them intently as they fell, gradually fading before their lights disappeared within the forest itself.

A Calsharan officer appeared from the vehicle's left, yelling at his subordinates in the guttural tongue of his species. He was moving them along, or at least trying to, the armoured soldiers begrudgingly picking up the pace despite the increasingly hard rain. He stopped in front of the parked staff car, gesticulating at his soldiers as he shouted, before he turned to the car's windshield and darkened interior. John made eye contact with the officer then, and his grip tightened on the wheel. A flash of realisation crossed the Calsharan's dark scaly skin, yellow eyes widening when his mind properly registered that yes, there was a human inside this car.

"Shit." John hit the vehicle's accelerator hard as soon as the officer pulled out a black-metal plasma pistol. Nearby soldiers turned their heads, the vehicle's engine roaring as John sent it skidding in the muddy road and careening into the officer. Right away, Aithris was sitting up in his seat, his violet-coloured eyes narrowed in determination. From the seat next to him, he picked up a SCAR-H automatic rifle. It was chambered for the larger 7.62mm rifle round, a necessity when facing off against armoured Calsharan soldiers.

The Calsharan Major in the passenger seat winced when John knocked his compatriot over, sending the other officer sprawling into the mud. The road was bumpy and uneven, having been churned up by explosions during the bombings that had devastated the town. They raced past a corner where three Bedrosian soldiers were on their knees, hands at the backs of their heads whilst a squad of Calsharan soldiers searched them for weapons and other useful items. Charging past a moving column of soldiers, John set the car onto the winding dirt road that led out of the town, going for the forest ahead and the frontline. More Calsharan soldiers lined the roads, some heading back from the fighting, muddied and wearied and even wounded in some cases, whilst the fresher-looking sorts marched the other way. Some looked to the speeding staff car with interest, but otherwise none took action, no doubt convinced that the occupants were their own. As for the officer who had singled them out, he was far behind them now.

There was a small shed up ahead, on the left of the muddy road. A line of Calsharan soldiers extended from it, each one looking for a share of the rations being handed out from the shed. John swung by them quickly, the left-hand wheels going through a thick puddle that sent a shower of water splashing up and all over those soldiers near the head of the line. John kept on going, ignoring the angered shouts that followed after him.

Woods flanked them on either side. Occasional flashes lit up the night sky. A wedge-shaped Calsharan fighter swooped in low, its forward cannons firing, showering some distant unseen target with searing bolts of shimmering blue plasma. Artillery pieces boomed nearby, Calsharan in make, yet relying on more standard conventional shells. They presumably worked better at indirect fire, as one was not likely to see some supersonic shell coming. Plasma bolts, on the other hand, lit up the air around them like a beacon.

John had not come down this road to get to the town, so he did not know what to expect along it. He was startled by the sight of a security checkpoint as he rounded a bend, this one manned with Calsharan officers, each one bearing the silver armband on their armour that denoted them as part of the Union Political Directorate (UPD). That was the newest political arm of the Calsharan military, not dissimilar to the commissars of the old Soviet Union. There were three of them on duty, joined by a group of normal soldiers. As the car came barrelling towards them, one of them stepped into the middle of the road, waving at the car in order to incite them to stop. John simply frowned and hit the accelerator pedal even harder, revving the engine to something extreme and kicking up a slurry of mud and water behind it.

The checkpoint officers had their weapons out when they realised that the car was not going to stop. Nonetheless, John sent it tearing through the flimsy wooden barricade before any of them could open fire. Broken timbers went flying every which-way, and plasma bolts cut through the air around them after they had passed through. John swung the car around a hard right, and somewhere distant Bedrosian artillery sounded, a howling boom that almost became lost in the thunder of the mounting storm. Part of the road ahead erupted into a spout of mud and smoke, showering the car as John flung it around the detonation. Another explosion occurred off to the right, sending a tree falling. John had them under it and past it before it could completely fall, blocking the road and any potential pursuers.

He had not needed to drive quite like this before. Speeding down a motorway in his custom Plymouth was one thing, but this? It was white knuckle terrifying. And he was headed into a warzone, made apparent by the ruined tracts of forest that became visible the further they went, not to mention the frequency of the artillery fire from both sides of the conflict. Plasma bolts cut through the night, sizzling through the falling rain. A Bedrosian air transport came falling from the night sky, its engines on fire. John grimaced and pushed ahead, plunging them further into the chaos. Whatever information this Calsharan Major had to offer, it had damn well better be worth it.

At some point over the years, a warehouse had been constructed where the Bedrosian stargate had been found. It was a large rectangular building, mostly comprised of plain grey metal, forming the heart of a secure military compound in a clear patch deep within the forest. Much of that compound was in a ruin, entire sections of the fence having been taken down whilst several sizeable holes dotted the warehouse itself. Small spot fires burned along the perimeter, eating their way through the overgrown grass and shrubs that dotted the clearing. A pair of Bedrosian military trucks were parked outside, although both had been heavily damaged, marked with numerous plasma burns and beyond any working order.

For Doctor Daniel Jackson, coming here had been a trip down memory lane. That is, a memory lane home to a less than pleasant trove of memories, the bulk of which had seen him stuck inside a small metal cage on the floor of a building not much different to this very warehouse. He stood on the upper floor inside the warehouse itself, looking down upon the main floor where the stargate was located. Shelves lined the walls, most clear but some carrying various bits and pieces that had been dug up from around the stargate. Pieces that served as evidence of the once Goa'uld-run civilisation that had existed here, so common on human-inhabited worlds such as this one.

It was pouring rain outside. Thunder sounded occasionally, although it was the distant artillery fire that punctuated the downpour far more often. Some of those shells landed close to the compound, causing the ground the shake and some of the lighter items dotted about the warehouse to rattle. Daniel waited with mounting concern as to the wellbeing of Colonel Sheppard and Aithris, and he could tell that Natalia felt much the same way.

Staff Sergeant Natalia Tarasovna was on the main floor below the catwalk, and she exchanged an increasingly worried glance with Daniel above. She was in her thirties, with dark brown hair that was tied back neatly and blue eyes, her uniform adorned with not only the shoulder patch of SG-1, but also a Russian flag patch. Previously assigned to the SGC on exchange, she was now a permanent member of the team. She was also a combat engineer, fluent in the ways of demolitions. She had been assisting the handful of Bedrosian soldiers here in creating improvised explosive devices, as their supplies of properly made military explosives had dwindled.

"They're advancing further." A man's voice interrupted Daniel's reverie. He turned to his left, to where the gruff Bedrosian commanding officer was standing. He had been speaking into a communicator he wore at his wrist. General Rigar was a man in his sixties now, and he was familiar to Daniel for the simple fact that it had been him who had seen Daniel and his team imprisoned here, albeit briefly, during their initial visit more than twenty years ago. He was in the deep brown uniform of a Bedrosian officer, complete with a stark yellow emblem at the chest bearing two pairs of red 'wings'.

"We need to leave." Rigar met Daniel's gaze firmly. "Your friends aren't coming."

"They'll be here," Daniel countered. "Besides, General, if you want to leave then go ahead. My people and I will remain here."

"And allow the lizards to take this gateway?" Rigar shook his head. "No, we're destroying this place, Doctor Jackson. The gateway with it."

Daniel was about to inform the General that the stargate was not so easily destroyed, before the sound of an engine became apparent from outside. One of the sentries shouted, and all heads turned to the warehouse entrance. Daniel hurried down the nearby set of steps, hoping to whatever higher power was out there that it was Sheppard and the others. It seemed his prayers were to be answered, for John and Aithris came barging inside, soaking wet with muddy boots, and they were joined by a Calsharan officer. This one looked understandably worried, and he clutched a slim grey data-pad of Calsharan make in one hand.

Right away, the trio of Bedrosian soldiers on the warehouse floor trained their sleek lance-like weapons his way. John slid the warehouse doors closed behind them, the frown he wore speaking volumes as to the state of affairs outside. His black hair was soaked through, as was his uniform. Aithris was just as wet, although he had no hair to be spoiled. Rather, he had several thin black spines protruding from his scalp, each one low and following the curve of his skull. On his dark blue skin, the rainwater shone with a little more prominence.

"John, you got him." Daniel was about to add more, when General Rigar appeared behind him. He pushed past the archaeologist, pointing an accusing finger at the Calsharan officer.

"What is that damn lizard doing here?" He demanded. His other hand went for the sidearm at his waist. The Calsharan, a 'Major' or at least something close to it, stepped forwards with renewed confidence. He scowled at the Bedrosian General, yellow eyes narrowed.

"Not all of us agree with this war," he stated, his voice firm. "I am here to provide crucial information. You might even say that I'm defecting." He looked to Daniel, holding out the data-pad. Daniel stepped forwards and took it, glancing at the display which activated on his touch. Calsharan text appeared, although his grasp of the language was solid enough for him to understand it.

"What's on there is decrypted," the Calsharan Major said. "I can decrypt it for you, once we're on your world."

"You're giving them this info?" Rigar's eyes widened noticeably. "We could probably do with it far more than they can…" He was interrupted by John, who shot the Bedrosian General a mean glare.

"You watch yourself, General," John said. "You do your part, as agreed, and we'll send all the medical supplies and weapons we discussed. That means you don't try any stunts." He nodded to Aithris, who had begun to slowly step around the left of the group. Rigar noticed this, further annoyance seeping into his voice.

"You best tell your alien friend to stop trying to flank us," he warned. "Or there will be trouble."

Natalia came forward then, putting a hand to Aithris' shoulder. The Nomad met her gaze, his own expression thoughtful as it so often was, and she offered him a friendly smile.

"Relax, Aith," she told him. Her Russian accent was present, but subtle. "We're all on the same team here."

"In case you didn't notice, Colonel Sheppard," Rigar declared, and he motioned with one arm to the surrounding warehouse and what lay outside. "Our world is burning. Our people are being routed from their homes and placed under the subjugation of a cruel enemy. A few crates of medicine and guns is hardly going to remove the Calsharan presence here."

"One thing at a time, General," John countered. "We're a covert force. We're not here to liberate your planet. We haven't the resources for that."

"Doctor Jackson here says you have ships." Rigar glanced at Daniel, who turned away from the gruff General's gaze with a sheepish look. "Ships with weapons more advanced than our own."

"Doctor Jackson has a big mouth," John replied, and he met Daniel's eyes with his own frown. The archaeologist shrugged.

"I was trying to make conversation," he said, innocently. Somewhere outside, a cluster of artillery fire landed close by, shearing through the tree line and sending several of the tall, ageing pine trees falling. John turned to Natalia then, gesturing in the direction of the stargate.

"Sergeant, start dialling. We're leaving with the Major."

Natalia nodded her head. The Calsharan Major gave John a curt nod, even if the Colonel was hardly in the mood for such niceties. Everyone on the team had seen firsthand the results of this ongoing war of expansion. They all knew that not all Calsharans were cruel and merciless, yet it seemed many of those in charge of the war effort were exactly that. A transfer of power had occurred on the Calsharan home-world earlier this year and it had seen a younger and more ambitious male rise to the top. A coup d'état, in simplest terms. The religious order that had once dominated Calsharan politics, the Vigilants of Vardondaar, had been exterminated. Now a far more militaristic regime was in place, and this war was simply them acting out their ambitions.

This Calsharan Major, Ravus, had contacted Earth a few days before, having dialled Earth and communicated with those in the SGC by video link. He had given them a time and location, although he had underestimated the level of difficulty in getting there, as the frontline on Bedrosia had moved faster than he had predicted. The native humans were being pushed further and further back, standing little chance against the might of the Calsharan war machine. They had held out as long as they had by careful use of their sophisticated shield generators, using them to protect important targets from orbital bombardment and thereby forcing the bulk of the fighting to move to the ground. Yet, even now that tactic was beginning to fall apart as their forces retreated and supply lines were cut. It was no wonder that General Rigar, a man whom Daniel had met here more than twenty years ago (who had then held the rank of 'Commander') had been eager to accept any help from them he could. Last time around, he had refused to believe that Daniel had come from another planet and was about ready to execute him as a spy. How things changed, Daniel thought.

"That's it, then? You're just going to leave us?" Rigar sounded both frustrated and resigned. He could see no real alternative here, save for the obvious and violent one.

"What do you want us to do, General?" John turned to him then. Ahead, Natalia had crossed to the stargate's dial-home device. She began to punch in the appropriate symbols, the stargate's inner wheel whirring into action, chevrons lighting up along its length. "We can offer you aid, but we can't offer you soldiers. We've got enough problems of our own."

"I knew it was foolish, expecting anything from you people," Rigar said.

Just outside, there sounded another loud thump as something exploded. However, this one was much closer than any of the previous detonations, and it was followed by the sound of something metal giving way. There came a shout from the sentry just outside, followed by the familiar noise of a Calsharan plasma rifle firing, akin to a sharp metal shing, like a knife being slid quickly along a grindstone.

"They're here." John's voice was grave. The few Bedrosian soldiers in the warehouse readied their weapons. Daniel hurried over to the stargate, right as it activated. The unstable vortex erupted forwards into a plume of blue-white energy, before it snapped back suddenly and settled into the familiar and oddly tranquil shimmering puddle of the event horizon. Flickering blue light was cast about the warehouse. It was quickly disturbed by the sudden destruction of the front entrance, the set of double doors flying off of their hinges as some form of breaching charge was detonated upon it.

Two of the Bedrosian soldiers there were knocked aside by the force of the explosion, tossed to the floor like ragdolls. Smoke filled the front of the warehouse, and John swivelled about to face this latest threat, readying the M14 Enhanced Battle Rifle (EBR) he had been lugging around during the mission. Like the SCAR-H Aithris carried, the M14 EBR used the 7.62mm rifle cartridge. It offered enhanced penetration against armoured targets, which was practically a necessity when facing off against the Calsharans.

"Sergeant, go on ahead. Daniel, you follow." He looked to the archaeologist, who had started jogging over for the stargate. Behind him, Rigar stood amongst the smoke haze left by the explosion, sidearm drawn whilst one other Bedrosian soldier stood at his side. From within the haze came the sturdy and imposing shapes of a trio of armoured Calsharan soldiers, each one brandishing a standard-issue plasma rifle. The visors on their helmets shone a golden-yellow, and the barrels of their weapons glowed a bright blue.

"Ravus, get over here!" John barked, and the Calsharan defector came running for the stargate. Plasma bolts zipped out of the smoke as the Calsharan soldiers advanced. One of them struck the DHD, where John had taken cover. A button on the DHD exploded, sparks flying. Thankfully, the stargate remained active. Natalia was at the event horizon, ID device in hand, tapping in the code necessary for the SGC to open the iris at the other side. A few seconds later, the cylindrical device blinked green, signalling the go-ahead.

"We're good, Colonel." She turned to him, only to duck as plasma bolts struck the event horizon. John sighted one of the soldiers down his rifle's sights, finger pressing the trigger. The weapon barked, kicking hard in his grasp. He worked it quickly, putting four rounds downrange that sent the Calsharan stumbling. Blood seeped out of a penetration in the armour and the alien hit the floor, writhing about where he lay.

Aithris' rifle thundered rapidly. Sparks flew as rounds clipped the armour on one of the other soldiers. The Bedrosian regular crouched near Rigar was hit square in the chest with a plasma bolt. He fell backwards, sliding across the floor a few feet from the force of the impact, before he came to rest spread-eagled and motionless. Smoke wafted from the blackened and bloody hole that had appeared where his lungs had been. Rigar was still on his feet, the smoke ahead clearing to show another half dozen of the Calsharans rushing inside.

John crouched behind the DHD, watching as Natalia threw herself into the event horizon. Daniel darted after her, although he stopped and turned around to offer Ravus a hand. Instead, the Calsharan officer fell before the event horizon, a trio of smoldering holes shot into his back. Daniel, thinking quickly, grabbed the unmoving officer's arms and began to drag him, straining somewhat from the alien's bulk and weight. They both disappeared into the wormhole, leaving Aithris and John to cover their own retreat.

Rigar was in the middle of the warehouse now, flanked by the odd wooden crate. Plasma bolts zipped by him as he fired off his sidearm at the advancing enemy. His pistol was similar to the Bedrosian lance rifles, shooting a yellow bolt of energy that had been attuned to a lethal setting in order to penetrate Calsharan armour. His face was set into a look of grim determination, brow furrowed and eyes alight with the fury and bloodlust that only a life-and-death battle could bring.

John sent another Calsharan soldier falling as this one appeared off to the left, having forced open a side entrance. He stood up then, glancing to Aithris who was in the process of reloading his rifle.

"You run for the gate," John told the Nomad. "I'll cover you."

Aithris nodded in acknowledgment of the order, before he slammed home a fresh magazine, racked the charging handle on the rifle and rose to his feet. He backed up a few steps in the direction of the wormhole, firing a burst at the enemy soldiers before he turned and ran up the few wooden steps that lead to the lip of the stargate. John was sending rounds downrange the entire time, placing his shots as carefully as he could, putting another Calsharan down as Aithris dived into the event horizon.

"Rigar!" John called, but the General ignored him. A Calsharan soldier appeared from around a set of shelves off to his right, and General Rigar blasted him in the chest, a flash of yellow flame erupting from the impact point on the alien's chest armour. Another pair of enemy troopers ran in through the wrecked entrance, and both let fly with a merciless volley. Plasma bolts cut through the General, sending him falling to his knees, smoke wafting off of him. The pained look on his face was fleeting, and it was quickly replaced with something much harder, his jaw clenched as he did his best to ignore the agony he felt.

John approached the event horizon, rifle up. Calsharans were swarming the warehouse. He saw then, as soldiers encroached upon the General, that the Bedrosian had pulled a pair of cylinder-shaped explosive charges from his belt. With the alien soldiers surrounding him, the General armed both, red lights flashing upon them. John took this as his signal to leave, and so he turned around and jumped into the wormhole.

"For Bedrosia!" The General roared, mere seconds before the charges detonated and he, along with a handful of Calsharan soldiers and a large portion of the warehouse, erupted into flame.