Sorry guys, it's been along time but I've had a lot of stuff to deal with
at work (boo and yet hurray)
Your reviews have been so great - thanks for taking the time to write xx
OK Disclaimer - well just see other chapters.
There are a few references to The 95th and Road Trip in the following chapter.
Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin',
I'm sittin' here, just contemplatin',
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
handful of Senators don't pass legislation,
and marches alone can't bring integration,
when human respect is disintegratin',
this whole crazy world is just too frustratin' Eve of Destruction - Barry McGuire
Also making an appearance - Wherever You Will Go - The Calling
===========
The gate room was three levels up; Dreylock's administration had moved it, to the Parliamentary building, after Anubis's attack.
He moved swiftly along the passageway, heading for the stairs, trying to look like he belonged in the disarray of this once orderly and pristine complex of administration.
Blood decorated the walls in splatters and handprints, doors hung by their hinges, paintings had been ripped from their brackets and destroyed by fire along with government papers whose fragile ashes carpeted the walkway.
He made his way up the stairwell trying to ignore the odd body slumped against the steps, their last moments of life staining the titled surface in pools of terror. He used the banister to haul himself passed the remains as his legs started to give way. He turned the corner to head up the next flight when he heard a voice behind him implore softly, "please."
Jonas looked over his shoulder as a young man, dressed in a kitchen uniform, held out his hand beseechingly, reaching for a connection with another living being. Jonas stopped and looked back up the stairway, attempting to concentrate on his task, "please," the man pleaded again, "don't leave me."
Jonas gripped the metal rail tightly, struggling with the dilemma between heart and mind that was cutting his soul with a sharp blade. He looked down at the ring and took a step forward, closing his eyes against the resolution of his mind, his feet feeling like lead and his knuckles turning white. He stopped again and sighed, putting his chin to his chest before turning back to kneel beside the younger man and take the outstretched hand.
"Thank you," the man half whispered, half cried, in a voice mixed with blood, "I was so scared, it's so dark."
Jonas looked at the fatal wound stretching against the man's white garb and swallowed. He held on tight to the stranger's hand and smiled reassuringly down at him, sensing his trepidation at the approaching footsteps of death. The young man returned the smile, the pain and fear gone from his face now that he was no longer alone to confront his fate. He took one last, rasping, breath and the light faded from the chocolate of his eyes and Jonas felt the man's grip slip away but he held on. He wiped the congealed blood from the man's name badge, "the sky's above me, the grass is so sweet, this journey's circle, will now be complete. Peace for you crossing Joada Olio," Jonas whispered, releasing Joada's hand and gently closing the younger man's eyes against the harshness of the world.
Jonas took a minute, trying to mend his threadbare soul, trying hard to calm the rage that was vexing his being. In the distance he heard the metallic march of a group of Jaffa making his heart race, pulling him from his anguish. He got up and continued his journey to the next level.
He opened the door into the corridor and was met by a glare from a City Guard Sergeant, "where have you been, soldier?" he commented, noticing Jonas's dishevelled appearance.
Jonas saluted with an arm across the chest, adrenalin pumping his heart, "sir, I've just come from a search of the catacombs."
The Sergeant nodded and pointed to his shoulder, "I see you've been injured there son," he said.
Jonas looked down at where the rat had attacked him, noticing the flow of blood for the first time. He stared at it for a moment, perplexed, realising how immune he was to its colour after seeing so much this night. "It's nothing, sir," he replied.
The older man smiled at him, "you'll have something to show your grandchildren when they ask you about this glorious night."
Jonas nodded then the Sergeant's eyes narrowed, "where are you heading?" He asked looking at the unit number blazon on his arm.
Jonas glanced to his right, "I was asked to pick up some files, from the Records Office, for General Wolf."
There was silence, Jonas stood there rigid hoping that news hadn't filtered down of the General's defection. The Sergeant nodded, "on your way, son, but be extra vigilant, there are a few loyalist scum still evading the bullet."
"Yes sir."
Jonas proceeded into the office, resting against the hardwood door as he shut it. There was a slight movement in the unlit room causing him to automatically draw his weapon but his mind sensed a familiarity in the scrambled colours of panic being painted by the other party. He flicked the light switch on with his mind, "Jonas," came the startled cry.
"First Minister," Jonas replied, looking at the dishevelled dignitary in front of him.
She looked at the gun and then met his gaze, her body suddenly taking on a more regal stance, "what, what are you doing back here?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.
He put the weapon back in its holster a little clumsily, "the Goa'uld are planning an attack on Earth using the Kelownan stargate, I have to get back, to warn them."
She nodded and let her body relax against a cabinet, pushing her palm over her hair to tidy it back into place, "I saw the Jaffa in the corridors, I guessed Ravel had made some sort of pact with them."
There was a moment's silence, both of them sensing, in their short time apart, they had grown distant like two strangers in hell.
Jonas toyed with the ring on his finger while looking at Dreylock's identical gold band, the words he wanted, needed, to ask folded on his lips, instead he enquired, "you are unharmed?" Noticing the blood sprayed on her bronze tunic.
She rubbed her hand meticulously over the stain, "yes," she whispered, her voice breaking, "It's, it's not mine."
She gazed beyond him and inhaled deeply, ready to lay bare a small part of her soul in confession, "I heard the first few shots tumble through the corridors and my resolve went. I was ready to sacrifice myself, to give Wolf more time, but the bravery played out in my mind faded when I heard the screams, the panic of those around me and my survival instinct took control of my body, I ran."
Tears groped for freedom from her eyes, "I ran to the old escape tunnels that connect with the docks, my life suddenly becoming more important than those who lay dying protecting me, those whose blood I wear as a reminder of my weakness."
She looked back towards him, her words becoming ironic, "Ravel knew me better than I knew myself, for he'd already blocked the passageways and as my guards fell, shielding me from harm, I made my way here to cower in the darkness with some dusty old files."
She held his gaze, fighting through the blankness in his eyes, using her years of experience in negotiating to read him. She shook her head and looked away, Wolf had told him. "A fitting end for a Kelownan leader who ordered the deaths of a hundred, innocent, civilians don't you think?" She gestured around the room with her arms and stared back in his direction her heart hoping for some sort of compassion.
Jonas looked away and kneaded his temples, feeling the heat of infection from the rat bite. Dreylock, swallowed, forgetting her own guilt and moved towards him, "you're hurt," she said, gently touching his wound while helping him to sit against a row of files.
Jonas stared down at the stain, "I'd forgotten," he said absentmindedly, then looked at the blood on his hands, "I'm not sure if all this is mine."
She knelt down beside him and began to unbutton his shirt, to examine the injury, "I could see the disappointment in your eyes, Jonas," she whispered, "I know that I have let you and the Kelownan people down."
She took out a small square of cotton cloth from a pocket, "my mother always made me carry a clean handkerchief," she smiled and began to press it against the violence of the bite.
He brushed her hair back, tenderly, and brought her chin up so he could look into her eyes and maybe reassure her. Dreylock swallowed and moved her head away, continuing to treat the wound. "What do you see, Jonas?" She asked, bitterly, feeling the tears burn her eyes again, "you have this knack of seeing into the hearts of others."
He felt himself relax with her touch as she administered to him, uncurling his hand and opening the eye.
Dreylock stopped and looked down at the glowing imprint in his palm, "what." She began.
"The Eye Of Thoth," he replied letting her fingertips follow its impression, almost childlike in the wonder of their exploration, as the doctor, deep inside of her, resurfaced from the dignitary she now was.
Her face creased in a hundred questions, Jonas smiled, "it's my way into the hearts of men."
She looked up into his placid eyes, "and women?"
He held her expectant gaze, grappling against the quandary of his own feelings of what had been done in the name of politics. In the end he opened his mind and let the eye reach inside her being, to weigh the very essence of her conscience. "You already judge yourself, Ma'am," he told her, "your soul struggles with the choices you've made, while your heart deliberates every action but these are overruled by your head, which has no room for sentiment. You are the mother of a whole new planet, a child called Langaria and like any mother you will do whatever it takes to make sure you offspring has a chance to live out its days in peace."
He took her hand, "history will judge you, but not as hard as you judge yourself and the souls of those you carry, here, in your heart," he gave her a sad smile.
See looked back at the mark on his palm, studying it, "how?" She asked, as the light grew fainter as Jonas reserved his energy.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm not Kelownan," he stated, softly, "I was cloned from an Ancient, the people who first built the Stargate, who was also a host to a Goa'uld."
"Then there is apart of you that is Goa'uld?" She asked, intrigued.
"Yes, the self-healing part," he replied lightly.
Dreylock smiled and touched his forehead, "you're burning up."
Jonas nodded and started to stand, "I need to rest but we must get to the Stargate first, to warn Earth."
Dreylock agreed and waited as Jonas checked the corridor, to see if it was safe for them to continue.
========
Two of Ravel's men guarded the door to the Stargate, mirrored by two Jaffa who carried Anubis's crest on their forehead. Jonas didn't need his 'spider sense' to know this was an uneasy alliance, it was there in their body language.
He turned to Dreylock and handed her his handgun; she nodded as she took possession of it. Jonas straightened himself and walked around the corner to face them. He put on his best smile, as his hand worked on an energy ball out of sight of the four men.
The two Jaffa were immediately suspicious and turned to face him, with rigid stance, raising their staff weapons. The two City Guards stood between them and their approaching colleague, showing the aliens just whose planet this was; the Jaffa lowered their arsenal and Jonas's smiled widened.
When he was level with the Kelownan's Jonas let the knot of energy fly from his palm, knocking the two men out cold: he then fell to the floor.
Dreylock backed herself against the wall, her heart beating like it was cleaved in two and her fear was leaking from the wound. She gripped tight to the handle of the gun, pressing the cold metal barrel against her lips to stop herself from crying out. She heard a muffled scream as the two guards were forced to the ground but her body did not respond to the urgency of her mind yelling, 'MOVE'.
Jonas sensed Dreylock hesitate as the Jaffa armed their weapons, "oh, crap," he whispered, as he tried to muster enough energy to shield himself from the ensuing blast.
Four shots echoed through the hallway like an intruder alarm and Jonas felt the ground shudder as the two remaining guards hit the tiled surface. He looked up at the First Minister who ran to his side, offering him a trembling hand and smiled.
They quickly disarmed the guards and took the Jaffa's zats. "Let's hope they didn't have time to change the combination," Dreylock said, looking at the keypad on the door.
She swiped a card, which was around her neck, through the related slot and punched in a five-digit code; the door slid open.
===============
The alien device, Sam was working on, sparked with a ruthless vengeance, catching her fingertips with a triumphant hiss. She let out a cry and instantly put her throbbing fingers to her mouth, throwing the small screwdriver across the desk in temper.
She stared at the metallic object and rubbed her forehead, unable to smooth the thought creases that crinkled the softness of her skin.
A light draught caressed the nape of her neck making her shiver with its touch and look up from her work.
"Sam," the voice seemed to call from all around her.
"Who's there?" She asked an empty office.
A soft, velvety, glow materialized in front of her, enthralling her with its steady pulse of honeyed light.
"Sam," the voice whispered again, its vibration making gentle ripples in the orb.
Sam hesitated, her heart dripping with emotion, "Cassie?" She enquired, feeling her vocal cords stretch with the question.
"Jonas needs you to open the iris, Sam," the voice replied, getting gradually weaker.
"Jonas?" Sam questioned but the abrupt sound of the klaxon shattered the ball of light as Sergeant Davis announced, "unscheduled off world activation."
Sam headed for the gate room.
=============
The door to the Kelownan Stargate resisted another blast, Dreylock looked at Jonas, "it's not going to hold for much longer."
Jonas looked at the water haze of the activated gate, "the iris," he stumbled, "I have no way of contacting the SGC, I've no radio."
He pressed his palm against his brow in frustration, looking at their only way to freedom and certain death.
He closed his eyes in contemplation, running through the passageways of his mind, trying to find a doorway, a key, an answer to their predicament. He felt the room suddenly turn wintry, sending a shudder of acknowledgement through his skin and caressing his heart that was still frozen in memory.
"So lately, been wondering, who will be there to take my place. When I'm gone you'll need love, to light the shadows on your face."
Jonas recognised the words that floated from behind him, he turned to face the First Minister; but it wasn't her. Instead another stood in her shoes, "Cassie," he said quietly.
She moved to where he was stood, her hair sparkling with pure light and smiled, touching his face with her outstretched hand. "Jonas," she responded, like his name was nectar on her lips.
They moved closer together, unaware of events unfolding around them, their lips joining with the hunger of separation.
Jonas felt his body tremble with intimacy; yearning for what was lost to him, wanting his soul to feel whole again.
Cassie groomed her fingers wildly through his hair wanting more than she could give him, experiencing the desires of being human again and in love. They pulled apart like opposing magnetic poles; breathless with attraction but knowing they were lost to each other.
"You must go, the iris will be open," she said.
Jonas watched the tears spill from her eyes as she stroked his cheek. He grabbed her hand and placed it to his lips, closing his eyes, wanting to hang on to her for as long as possible, "Jonas?"
He opened his eyes, Dreylock stared back at him, her warm hand next to his lips; he let it go. She looked at him blankly, her body tingling, understanding that something had happened that she wasn't aware of.
"The iris is open," Jonas said sadly, "we can go."
He turned back toward the gate just as the doors began to slide open and a volley of weapon's fire shatter the silence.
==============
Sam ran into the gate room, "is it the Kelownan's?" She asked General Hammond.
"Yes Major," he replied, slightly bemused.
"Carter, how did." Colonel O'Neill began to ask.
"Open the iris sir," she almost shouted, out of breath.
"But Major we have no scheduled meeting with the Kelownan's and they are not answering our hails," the General explained.
"It's Jonas, sir."
O'Neill and Hammond exchanged looks, "Cassie told me," she clarified.
"What in a dream?" Jack enquired, not convinced.
"No sir, just now, in my office."
The Colonel looked towards the door then at Hammond and shrugged, "are you sure Major?" The General asked.
"Yes sir."
Hammond nodded.
=============
Shots blazed all around them, whizzing through the air, sparking off the metallic equipment like tiny pockets of fire. Jonas and Dreylock defended their precarious position, trying to hold back the mixed tide of Jaffa and City Guards.
Dreylock was pinned down behind a large control panel, nearer to the door while Jonas was closer to the DHD device and the activated gate. She weighed up their situation, her heart and mind, this time, set as one, she inhaled deeply, "Jonas make a run for the gate, I'll cover you," she shouted, zatting another nameless soldier.
"But Ma'am I can't."
She cut him short, there was very little time left, "that's an order," she cried with all the courage that spanned her backbone.
Their eyes locked for a split second, a hundred and one things left unsaid and unfinished, "go," she whispered softly, "before my survival instinct kicks in again."
Jonas nodded and ran for the gate. Dreylock stood up putting herself between Jonas and the barrage of bullets, using her body as a shield so he could escape.
==========
A figure dived through the event horizon, onto the metal gantry of the SGC, chased by an onslaught of bullets.
"What the hell?" Jack shouted, throwing himself to the floor next to Sam.
"Close the iris," General Hammond bellowed, above the small explosions of noise.
Sam got to her feet as the metal screen twisted and blocked off the wormhole, "Jonas," she called out, moving to the still form.
"Carter," Jack cried in warning, as he, too, began to stand.
She knelt down beside the uniformed figure and turned him over, removing the black cap as she did, "hey hero," she said, gentle, "hell of an entrance," she touched the blistering heat of his forehead, her own brow frowning in concern.
A smile lit up his eyes, "hey Sam," came the weak reply.
"Are you hit?" She asked noticing the wound to his shoulder.
"No," he whispered, almost in surprise, "rat bite." It sounded surreal.
Sam looked up a Colonel O'Neill who was stood with them, the Colonel shrugged; nothing in the universe was ever straightforward.
Jonas struggled to sit up, Carter laid a hand his shoulder, to restrain him, he swallowed tightly, "the First Minister?" He asked.
Sam looked back at the gate, "Jonas you came through alone," she stated.
The young man put his fingertips to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, sorrow shadowing his face.
Sergeant Davis walked over to General Hammond, "sir, the Kelownans, they're trying to contact us."
The General nodded and knelt down beside Jonas, "son," he began.
Jonas looked at him through weary eyes, he was worn-out, a fever was burning through every inch of his body, making him shake with infection, he just wanted to rest but he knew the SGC wanted answers. He tried to speak but his words fell as a mumbled mass of incoherent babble, frustrated he took Hammond's hand, clasping the eye around it. He pushed the last remnants of his energy into the older man, showing him small flashes of disjointed knowledge from his own memories, hoping the General would be able to make sense and understand the snippets of conversations and experiences he was sharing.
Jonas closed his eyes, exhausted and let his hand fall away, "get Mr Quinn to the infirmary, now!" The General hollered at the medical staff who were standing by.
"General?" Jack asked, pointing to the gate, "the Kelownans?"
"They're no longer our allies, Colonel, not while they're planning to use Goa'uld technology to take over this base."
"Goa'uld sir?" Sam raised with interest.
"Yes, Major," Hammond massaged his temples, trying to erase the odd flicker of invading memory that still lingered.
===========
Ravel strode into the gate room, his gloved hands clasped firmly behind his back. He looked down at the dying form of Dreylock, knocking her body with the tip of his boot; she let out a small cry of anguish.
He looked towards a sergeant who was standing over the First Minister, "Quinn?" He snapped.
The man swallowed, "he, escaped through the gate, sir, to Earth, we've tried re-dialling, but they're not responding."
Ravel's green eyes flashed with anger, "keep trying," he hissed.
"I'm sure your new found ally will forgive your failure, Ravel," Dreylock mocked, choking on her own blood.
The Commander drew his handgun and fired it three times into her head, venting his anger, he then looked up at the assembly of troops and smiled, "here lies Kelownan's First and now last Minister," he stated, before walking out the room.
============
No one ever dies in SCFI (sorry Drak) but it was only a short visit..
Your reviews have been so great - thanks for taking the time to write xx
OK Disclaimer - well just see other chapters.
There are a few references to The 95th and Road Trip in the following chapter.
Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin',
I'm sittin' here, just contemplatin',
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
handful of Senators don't pass legislation,
and marches alone can't bring integration,
when human respect is disintegratin',
this whole crazy world is just too frustratin' Eve of Destruction - Barry McGuire
Also making an appearance - Wherever You Will Go - The Calling
===========
The gate room was three levels up; Dreylock's administration had moved it, to the Parliamentary building, after Anubis's attack.
He moved swiftly along the passageway, heading for the stairs, trying to look like he belonged in the disarray of this once orderly and pristine complex of administration.
Blood decorated the walls in splatters and handprints, doors hung by their hinges, paintings had been ripped from their brackets and destroyed by fire along with government papers whose fragile ashes carpeted the walkway.
He made his way up the stairwell trying to ignore the odd body slumped against the steps, their last moments of life staining the titled surface in pools of terror. He used the banister to haul himself passed the remains as his legs started to give way. He turned the corner to head up the next flight when he heard a voice behind him implore softly, "please."
Jonas looked over his shoulder as a young man, dressed in a kitchen uniform, held out his hand beseechingly, reaching for a connection with another living being. Jonas stopped and looked back up the stairway, attempting to concentrate on his task, "please," the man pleaded again, "don't leave me."
Jonas gripped the metal rail tightly, struggling with the dilemma between heart and mind that was cutting his soul with a sharp blade. He looked down at the ring and took a step forward, closing his eyes against the resolution of his mind, his feet feeling like lead and his knuckles turning white. He stopped again and sighed, putting his chin to his chest before turning back to kneel beside the younger man and take the outstretched hand.
"Thank you," the man half whispered, half cried, in a voice mixed with blood, "I was so scared, it's so dark."
Jonas looked at the fatal wound stretching against the man's white garb and swallowed. He held on tight to the stranger's hand and smiled reassuringly down at him, sensing his trepidation at the approaching footsteps of death. The young man returned the smile, the pain and fear gone from his face now that he was no longer alone to confront his fate. He took one last, rasping, breath and the light faded from the chocolate of his eyes and Jonas felt the man's grip slip away but he held on. He wiped the congealed blood from the man's name badge, "the sky's above me, the grass is so sweet, this journey's circle, will now be complete. Peace for you crossing Joada Olio," Jonas whispered, releasing Joada's hand and gently closing the younger man's eyes against the harshness of the world.
Jonas took a minute, trying to mend his threadbare soul, trying hard to calm the rage that was vexing his being. In the distance he heard the metallic march of a group of Jaffa making his heart race, pulling him from his anguish. He got up and continued his journey to the next level.
He opened the door into the corridor and was met by a glare from a City Guard Sergeant, "where have you been, soldier?" he commented, noticing Jonas's dishevelled appearance.
Jonas saluted with an arm across the chest, adrenalin pumping his heart, "sir, I've just come from a search of the catacombs."
The Sergeant nodded and pointed to his shoulder, "I see you've been injured there son," he said.
Jonas looked down at where the rat had attacked him, noticing the flow of blood for the first time. He stared at it for a moment, perplexed, realising how immune he was to its colour after seeing so much this night. "It's nothing, sir," he replied.
The older man smiled at him, "you'll have something to show your grandchildren when they ask you about this glorious night."
Jonas nodded then the Sergeant's eyes narrowed, "where are you heading?" He asked looking at the unit number blazon on his arm.
Jonas glanced to his right, "I was asked to pick up some files, from the Records Office, for General Wolf."
There was silence, Jonas stood there rigid hoping that news hadn't filtered down of the General's defection. The Sergeant nodded, "on your way, son, but be extra vigilant, there are a few loyalist scum still evading the bullet."
"Yes sir."
Jonas proceeded into the office, resting against the hardwood door as he shut it. There was a slight movement in the unlit room causing him to automatically draw his weapon but his mind sensed a familiarity in the scrambled colours of panic being painted by the other party. He flicked the light switch on with his mind, "Jonas," came the startled cry.
"First Minister," Jonas replied, looking at the dishevelled dignitary in front of him.
She looked at the gun and then met his gaze, her body suddenly taking on a more regal stance, "what, what are you doing back here?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.
He put the weapon back in its holster a little clumsily, "the Goa'uld are planning an attack on Earth using the Kelownan stargate, I have to get back, to warn them."
She nodded and let her body relax against a cabinet, pushing her palm over her hair to tidy it back into place, "I saw the Jaffa in the corridors, I guessed Ravel had made some sort of pact with them."
There was a moment's silence, both of them sensing, in their short time apart, they had grown distant like two strangers in hell.
Jonas toyed with the ring on his finger while looking at Dreylock's identical gold band, the words he wanted, needed, to ask folded on his lips, instead he enquired, "you are unharmed?" Noticing the blood sprayed on her bronze tunic.
She rubbed her hand meticulously over the stain, "yes," she whispered, her voice breaking, "It's, it's not mine."
She gazed beyond him and inhaled deeply, ready to lay bare a small part of her soul in confession, "I heard the first few shots tumble through the corridors and my resolve went. I was ready to sacrifice myself, to give Wolf more time, but the bravery played out in my mind faded when I heard the screams, the panic of those around me and my survival instinct took control of my body, I ran."
Tears groped for freedom from her eyes, "I ran to the old escape tunnels that connect with the docks, my life suddenly becoming more important than those who lay dying protecting me, those whose blood I wear as a reminder of my weakness."
She looked back towards him, her words becoming ironic, "Ravel knew me better than I knew myself, for he'd already blocked the passageways and as my guards fell, shielding me from harm, I made my way here to cower in the darkness with some dusty old files."
She held his gaze, fighting through the blankness in his eyes, using her years of experience in negotiating to read him. She shook her head and looked away, Wolf had told him. "A fitting end for a Kelownan leader who ordered the deaths of a hundred, innocent, civilians don't you think?" She gestured around the room with her arms and stared back in his direction her heart hoping for some sort of compassion.
Jonas looked away and kneaded his temples, feeling the heat of infection from the rat bite. Dreylock, swallowed, forgetting her own guilt and moved towards him, "you're hurt," she said, gently touching his wound while helping him to sit against a row of files.
Jonas stared down at the stain, "I'd forgotten," he said absentmindedly, then looked at the blood on his hands, "I'm not sure if all this is mine."
She knelt down beside him and began to unbutton his shirt, to examine the injury, "I could see the disappointment in your eyes, Jonas," she whispered, "I know that I have let you and the Kelownan people down."
She took out a small square of cotton cloth from a pocket, "my mother always made me carry a clean handkerchief," she smiled and began to press it against the violence of the bite.
He brushed her hair back, tenderly, and brought her chin up so he could look into her eyes and maybe reassure her. Dreylock swallowed and moved her head away, continuing to treat the wound. "What do you see, Jonas?" She asked, bitterly, feeling the tears burn her eyes again, "you have this knack of seeing into the hearts of others."
He felt himself relax with her touch as she administered to him, uncurling his hand and opening the eye.
Dreylock stopped and looked down at the glowing imprint in his palm, "what." She began.
"The Eye Of Thoth," he replied letting her fingertips follow its impression, almost childlike in the wonder of their exploration, as the doctor, deep inside of her, resurfaced from the dignitary she now was.
Her face creased in a hundred questions, Jonas smiled, "it's my way into the hearts of men."
She looked up into his placid eyes, "and women?"
He held her expectant gaze, grappling against the quandary of his own feelings of what had been done in the name of politics. In the end he opened his mind and let the eye reach inside her being, to weigh the very essence of her conscience. "You already judge yourself, Ma'am," he told her, "your soul struggles with the choices you've made, while your heart deliberates every action but these are overruled by your head, which has no room for sentiment. You are the mother of a whole new planet, a child called Langaria and like any mother you will do whatever it takes to make sure you offspring has a chance to live out its days in peace."
He took her hand, "history will judge you, but not as hard as you judge yourself and the souls of those you carry, here, in your heart," he gave her a sad smile.
See looked back at the mark on his palm, studying it, "how?" She asked, as the light grew fainter as Jonas reserved his energy.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm not Kelownan," he stated, softly, "I was cloned from an Ancient, the people who first built the Stargate, who was also a host to a Goa'uld."
"Then there is apart of you that is Goa'uld?" She asked, intrigued.
"Yes, the self-healing part," he replied lightly.
Dreylock smiled and touched his forehead, "you're burning up."
Jonas nodded and started to stand, "I need to rest but we must get to the Stargate first, to warn Earth."
Dreylock agreed and waited as Jonas checked the corridor, to see if it was safe for them to continue.
========
Two of Ravel's men guarded the door to the Stargate, mirrored by two Jaffa who carried Anubis's crest on their forehead. Jonas didn't need his 'spider sense' to know this was an uneasy alliance, it was there in their body language.
He turned to Dreylock and handed her his handgun; she nodded as she took possession of it. Jonas straightened himself and walked around the corner to face them. He put on his best smile, as his hand worked on an energy ball out of sight of the four men.
The two Jaffa were immediately suspicious and turned to face him, with rigid stance, raising their staff weapons. The two City Guards stood between them and their approaching colleague, showing the aliens just whose planet this was; the Jaffa lowered their arsenal and Jonas's smiled widened.
When he was level with the Kelownan's Jonas let the knot of energy fly from his palm, knocking the two men out cold: he then fell to the floor.
Dreylock backed herself against the wall, her heart beating like it was cleaved in two and her fear was leaking from the wound. She gripped tight to the handle of the gun, pressing the cold metal barrel against her lips to stop herself from crying out. She heard a muffled scream as the two guards were forced to the ground but her body did not respond to the urgency of her mind yelling, 'MOVE'.
Jonas sensed Dreylock hesitate as the Jaffa armed their weapons, "oh, crap," he whispered, as he tried to muster enough energy to shield himself from the ensuing blast.
Four shots echoed through the hallway like an intruder alarm and Jonas felt the ground shudder as the two remaining guards hit the tiled surface. He looked up at the First Minister who ran to his side, offering him a trembling hand and smiled.
They quickly disarmed the guards and took the Jaffa's zats. "Let's hope they didn't have time to change the combination," Dreylock said, looking at the keypad on the door.
She swiped a card, which was around her neck, through the related slot and punched in a five-digit code; the door slid open.
===============
The alien device, Sam was working on, sparked with a ruthless vengeance, catching her fingertips with a triumphant hiss. She let out a cry and instantly put her throbbing fingers to her mouth, throwing the small screwdriver across the desk in temper.
She stared at the metallic object and rubbed her forehead, unable to smooth the thought creases that crinkled the softness of her skin.
A light draught caressed the nape of her neck making her shiver with its touch and look up from her work.
"Sam," the voice seemed to call from all around her.
"Who's there?" She asked an empty office.
A soft, velvety, glow materialized in front of her, enthralling her with its steady pulse of honeyed light.
"Sam," the voice whispered again, its vibration making gentle ripples in the orb.
Sam hesitated, her heart dripping with emotion, "Cassie?" She enquired, feeling her vocal cords stretch with the question.
"Jonas needs you to open the iris, Sam," the voice replied, getting gradually weaker.
"Jonas?" Sam questioned but the abrupt sound of the klaxon shattered the ball of light as Sergeant Davis announced, "unscheduled off world activation."
Sam headed for the gate room.
=============
The door to the Kelownan Stargate resisted another blast, Dreylock looked at Jonas, "it's not going to hold for much longer."
Jonas looked at the water haze of the activated gate, "the iris," he stumbled, "I have no way of contacting the SGC, I've no radio."
He pressed his palm against his brow in frustration, looking at their only way to freedom and certain death.
He closed his eyes in contemplation, running through the passageways of his mind, trying to find a doorway, a key, an answer to their predicament. He felt the room suddenly turn wintry, sending a shudder of acknowledgement through his skin and caressing his heart that was still frozen in memory.
"So lately, been wondering, who will be there to take my place. When I'm gone you'll need love, to light the shadows on your face."
Jonas recognised the words that floated from behind him, he turned to face the First Minister; but it wasn't her. Instead another stood in her shoes, "Cassie," he said quietly.
She moved to where he was stood, her hair sparkling with pure light and smiled, touching his face with her outstretched hand. "Jonas," she responded, like his name was nectar on her lips.
They moved closer together, unaware of events unfolding around them, their lips joining with the hunger of separation.
Jonas felt his body tremble with intimacy; yearning for what was lost to him, wanting his soul to feel whole again.
Cassie groomed her fingers wildly through his hair wanting more than she could give him, experiencing the desires of being human again and in love. They pulled apart like opposing magnetic poles; breathless with attraction but knowing they were lost to each other.
"You must go, the iris will be open," she said.
Jonas watched the tears spill from her eyes as she stroked his cheek. He grabbed her hand and placed it to his lips, closing his eyes, wanting to hang on to her for as long as possible, "Jonas?"
He opened his eyes, Dreylock stared back at him, her warm hand next to his lips; he let it go. She looked at him blankly, her body tingling, understanding that something had happened that she wasn't aware of.
"The iris is open," Jonas said sadly, "we can go."
He turned back toward the gate just as the doors began to slide open and a volley of weapon's fire shatter the silence.
==============
Sam ran into the gate room, "is it the Kelownan's?" She asked General Hammond.
"Yes Major," he replied, slightly bemused.
"Carter, how did." Colonel O'Neill began to ask.
"Open the iris sir," she almost shouted, out of breath.
"But Major we have no scheduled meeting with the Kelownan's and they are not answering our hails," the General explained.
"It's Jonas, sir."
O'Neill and Hammond exchanged looks, "Cassie told me," she clarified.
"What in a dream?" Jack enquired, not convinced.
"No sir, just now, in my office."
The Colonel looked towards the door then at Hammond and shrugged, "are you sure Major?" The General asked.
"Yes sir."
Hammond nodded.
=============
Shots blazed all around them, whizzing through the air, sparking off the metallic equipment like tiny pockets of fire. Jonas and Dreylock defended their precarious position, trying to hold back the mixed tide of Jaffa and City Guards.
Dreylock was pinned down behind a large control panel, nearer to the door while Jonas was closer to the DHD device and the activated gate. She weighed up their situation, her heart and mind, this time, set as one, she inhaled deeply, "Jonas make a run for the gate, I'll cover you," she shouted, zatting another nameless soldier.
"But Ma'am I can't."
She cut him short, there was very little time left, "that's an order," she cried with all the courage that spanned her backbone.
Their eyes locked for a split second, a hundred and one things left unsaid and unfinished, "go," she whispered softly, "before my survival instinct kicks in again."
Jonas nodded and ran for the gate. Dreylock stood up putting herself between Jonas and the barrage of bullets, using her body as a shield so he could escape.
==========
A figure dived through the event horizon, onto the metal gantry of the SGC, chased by an onslaught of bullets.
"What the hell?" Jack shouted, throwing himself to the floor next to Sam.
"Close the iris," General Hammond bellowed, above the small explosions of noise.
Sam got to her feet as the metal screen twisted and blocked off the wormhole, "Jonas," she called out, moving to the still form.
"Carter," Jack cried in warning, as he, too, began to stand.
She knelt down beside the uniformed figure and turned him over, removing the black cap as she did, "hey hero," she said, gentle, "hell of an entrance," she touched the blistering heat of his forehead, her own brow frowning in concern.
A smile lit up his eyes, "hey Sam," came the weak reply.
"Are you hit?" She asked noticing the wound to his shoulder.
"No," he whispered, almost in surprise, "rat bite." It sounded surreal.
Sam looked up a Colonel O'Neill who was stood with them, the Colonel shrugged; nothing in the universe was ever straightforward.
Jonas struggled to sit up, Carter laid a hand his shoulder, to restrain him, he swallowed tightly, "the First Minister?" He asked.
Sam looked back at the gate, "Jonas you came through alone," she stated.
The young man put his fingertips to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, sorrow shadowing his face.
Sergeant Davis walked over to General Hammond, "sir, the Kelownans, they're trying to contact us."
The General nodded and knelt down beside Jonas, "son," he began.
Jonas looked at him through weary eyes, he was worn-out, a fever was burning through every inch of his body, making him shake with infection, he just wanted to rest but he knew the SGC wanted answers. He tried to speak but his words fell as a mumbled mass of incoherent babble, frustrated he took Hammond's hand, clasping the eye around it. He pushed the last remnants of his energy into the older man, showing him small flashes of disjointed knowledge from his own memories, hoping the General would be able to make sense and understand the snippets of conversations and experiences he was sharing.
Jonas closed his eyes, exhausted and let his hand fall away, "get Mr Quinn to the infirmary, now!" The General hollered at the medical staff who were standing by.
"General?" Jack asked, pointing to the gate, "the Kelownans?"
"They're no longer our allies, Colonel, not while they're planning to use Goa'uld technology to take over this base."
"Goa'uld sir?" Sam raised with interest.
"Yes, Major," Hammond massaged his temples, trying to erase the odd flicker of invading memory that still lingered.
===========
Ravel strode into the gate room, his gloved hands clasped firmly behind his back. He looked down at the dying form of Dreylock, knocking her body with the tip of his boot; she let out a small cry of anguish.
He looked towards a sergeant who was standing over the First Minister, "Quinn?" He snapped.
The man swallowed, "he, escaped through the gate, sir, to Earth, we've tried re-dialling, but they're not responding."
Ravel's green eyes flashed with anger, "keep trying," he hissed.
"I'm sure your new found ally will forgive your failure, Ravel," Dreylock mocked, choking on her own blood.
The Commander drew his handgun and fired it three times into her head, venting his anger, he then looked up at the assembly of troops and smiled, "here lies Kelownan's First and now last Minister," he stated, before walking out the room.
============
No one ever dies in SCFI (sorry Drak) but it was only a short visit..