"We have taken the villages surrounding the Stargate, Goddess, and we will soon search out the remaining settlements," Dimme's First Prime reported. "It is only a matter of time."

Time, Dimme thought with a snarl, pacing the bridge of her second ha'tak in a swirl of emerald robes. She looked over the hologram of Gault's solar system, willing sensors to sound the tone that would mean the second 'Gate was found. It had to be there. The Tok'ra did not box themselves into systems with only one Stargate in easy flight distance. Time may be the one thing I do not have. "The Tok'ra spies?"

"Allowed to believe they have escaped notice, hidden among those of Gault you ordered left untouched by the Reavers."

"Good." Dimme smiled cruelly, thinking of those living traps set and waiting for her enemies. "The Tau'ri share one weakness with my sister's rogue pets, Hursag. They are both loath to attack innocents."

Her First Prime snorted at that blatant idiocy. Humans were either hosts or slaves; they existed only at the gods' pleasure. There were no innocents. "You are certain the rogues will come here, my Queen? They have no reason to ally with the Tau'ri."

"We must prepare for the worst." Dimme called up the System Lords' file on the Tau'ri she had taken captive. "This Jackson has been thought dead more than once, to Apophis' and Heru'ur's great displeasure. And as for pilot 02...."

"Surely your creation took him, Goddess."

"One of the Scourge of Macha? If any might survive my Reaver, it would be those... creatures." Dimme snarled. "You have read the data we received from Macha before her death, Hursag. You know what Deathscythe's pilot claimed to be."

Call me Shinigami. The chilling laughter was the last thing recorded by too many death gliders to count. Everyone who sees me dies!

"Nemain should have obliterated that L2 colony the moment her experiment left its bounds." Dimme waved a dismissive hand; the past was past. And Nemain's fate upon trying to possess one of her own accidental creations was... unsettling to contemplate. "We have seen how Sanq fights."

"They will attempt to ambush us, overwhelm us with surprise and their Gundams." Hursag refrained from spitting the last word. "If they close a Dragon to minimum distance, they will strike at our main reactors." He drew himself up proudly. "It will not happen, my Queen."

"See that it does not."

A stiff bow. "Yet, the Tau'ri...."

She would not strike him for his daring. Not now. "You have what we know from our fellow Lords," Dimme shrugged.

"Which is enough to know that those of Earth are unconventional and unpredictable, Great One," Hursag said humbly. "Their weapons may be less advanced than ours, or even those of deadly Lamashtu's pets, but they make use of them in manners that echo Preventer raids."

"Whose dangers we know," Dimme said levelly. "Ease your mind, my Prime. Our enemies are not as careful as they would believe. Soon they shall feel the sting of our creations in their own heart." She laughed, bright and chill as glacial streams. "And the gods have ways of knowing the plans of their enemy. We will not send you against Tau'ri, or Gundams, unwarned."

Gundams. Dimme repressed a snarl as Hursag bowed and left her. The rebel fighters were nightmares made reality; agile and tough beyond belief, capable of maneuvers that would drive the finest Jaffa pilots unconscious trying to follow them. Fortune was with her in that Sanq had never made many of them.

Fighter pilots they have aplenty, but Gundam pilots are far, far rarer, the System Lord thought darkly. Difficult to find. Difficult to create.

And that was perhaps the gravest insult of all. Sanq had taken the tools she and her fellow Lords had used on its people; wrested genetic manipulation to its own ends, to shape a rare few from fierce and brilliant pilots into something... perilous.

One year. One year was all they needed to destroy Macha utterly....

It should not have been possible. Five pilots, no matter how well backed, no matter how lucky, should never have been able to face down Macha's forces. Macha had the planet. Her offspring had taken as hosts major government figures, colony leaders, even unsuspected Preventers. Why, as hosts, Lady Une and Treize Kushrenada had managed to infiltrate information into the Preventer network that had led to the Gundams destroying the most influential leaders of the Resistance!

What clever, delightful little children. Dimme's lip curled at the irony. Yet Noventa's death did not crush them.

Nothing had. Not raids on unsuspecting civilians, not threatening the colonies' destruction, not the savage fury of battle after battle. Killing a Gundam pilot was like trying to kill a... what was that Tau'ri word? Cockroach?

Insects all, Dimme thought, stalking toward the quiet ring of a secure communicator. Not for her Jaffa or lesser Goa'uld to answer, no; this she would attend herself. And like the crawling vermin they are, they shall be destroyed.

Dimme looked upon the face of a Tok'ra, and smiled. "Report."

Perched backwards on an infirmary chair, Jack drew a finger along slashed wood, feeling the sharp, splintery edge of the grain. Like somebody hacked it with the Machete from Hell.

"Ow!" Daniel's voice complained behind him.

Janet sighed. "It wouldn't hurt so much if you didn't watch."

"Says the lady waving needles near my veins?"

Though the fact that Duo could slice through Sally's two-by-four without lifting a finger wasn't what had set off Jack's weird-o-meter. No; what had raised all the hairs on the back of his neck was the way Deathscythe's pilot had just grinned at him after that flex of will and shadow.

I could take him, Jack told himself bluntly, wrinkling his nose as a stray breeze from the ventilation wafted the scent of charred paper over him. Duo hadn't been kidding about the black knife taking it out of him. The kid had been sweating. Breathing hard.

But that light in violet eyes....

I could take him. If he's telling the truth about the black knife not working on living things. But I'd damn well better get it right the first time.

"Just pick up your reports and read, Daniel."

"First time you've told me to try and get some work done here - ow! Ow, ow, ow... did you take up vampirism in your spare time and forget to tell us?"

"Hah." Janet stored her last blood sample. "General, I'm not sure how much you want me to put into his official file, but as of now, Dr. Jackson is off the blood donor list. Permanently."

"I was under the impression the organism doesn't spread by simple blood contact," Hammond said darkly.

"It doesn't. But it's still in the blood, and it still tries to kill anything that doesn't have its host's DNA. Meaning it'd start with the patient's other white blood cells and destroy tissues outward from there." Janet shrugged. "Any vampire that bit you, Daniel, would be making the last mistake of its life."

Daniel winced. "That's... a really great image, Janet. Thanks."

The general hmphed. "And you believe this 'black knife' is how Preventer Maxwell broke loose on Dimme's ship?"

"Yes, sir," Daniel nodded, holding a ball of cotton in the crook of his elbow as he perched on the examining table. "I didn't see everything - but it seemed like all the restraints snapped at once." He frowned. "I'm still not sure how he pulled off the wings...."

"Knives are airfoils," Jack said matter-of-factly, turning sharp wood over in his hands. "Ask Carter. All you'd have to do is shape them right. And anybody who's put that much effort into training a guerilla isn't going to leave the psychokinetic stuff out."

"He's what?" Daniel sputtered. "Jack, he's a teenager!"

"You're sure, Colonel?" Hammond's frown deepened.

"I'm sure, sir." Jack nodded. "Guerillas. Night warriors. Special ops the hard and dirty way. They're too twitchy to be anything else. Too good." He thought a second. "Except Lady Peacecraft. Though she's had enough training to know when to duck."

"Very expensive." Hammond looked grim.

"For us, yeah," Jack acknowledged. "For Sanq's Alliance? They may not have had a choice."

"Um... expensive?" Sliding off the table, Daniel looked the question at him.

"Doctors and fighter pilots cost a lot to train," Jack explained. "You pour that much money into a person, you do not want to lose them in the middle of some black operation Congress won't admit happened. We don't take them into Special Ops. Period." He tapped the wooden point in his palm. "Then again, we haven't had to fight a running war to kick an entrenched Goa'uld off our planet. Not for, say, four or five thousand years?"

Daniel licked his lips. "So you're saying the most valuable weapon the Alliance has... is making battle plans in our VIP quarters."

"Yep." Jack tried to smother a grin.

Daniel eyed him. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, just thinking about how long it's going to take the Tok'ra to figure out they can't just walk off with this technology," Jack said blithely. "Right, Doc?"

"It's likely they can't even touch it. Even if a Guardian consented to be a host." Janet's smile had a hard edge. "Cancer's just another genetic alteration, after all. Talk about symbiote healing abilities being a disadvantage."

"Intriguing as that thought may be, Doctor, I doubt that's why you called me here," Hammond pointed out.

"Well, sir...." Janet glanced at Jack.

"Go ahead, Doc," the colonel shrugged.

"I think your problem's more important," Janet argued.

"My problem can't call a JAG lawyer."

"Actually, I don't think hers will either," Daniel pointed out. "Not until the sedation wears off."

Jack put on a hurt expression. "Daniel. This isn't just some measly interplanetary war we're talking about. This is base morale."

Hammond glared at them all impartially. "Someone start talking. Now."

"Well," Daniel nudged up his glasses. "I didn't - exactly - oh gods, I still can't believe I did that...."

Janet took pity on him. "Despite appearances, General, Dr. Jackson didn't incinerate paperwork at random." She moved to a table, where a box held singed files and one slightly worse for wear laptop. "As the ranking medical officer, I have charge of these files until a court of inquiry can be convened. I'd like to request we have a forensic computer specialist examine this disk drive, although the hardcopy's damning enough. I do not want this... person... wriggling out of charges."

Hammond took the sooty pages she held out, skimming MacKenzie's text and Janet's page of notes on the side. His eyes narrowed as he read. "You're certain?"

"I did considerable research after Dr. Jackson was misdiagnosed, sir." Janet didn't flinch. "When it comes to our civilian members, Dr. MacKenzie exhibits a consistent pattern of prescribing drugs where experts in the field say therapy is advised, and over-prescribing when medication is advised. He might be able to skate out of that on the basis of our unusual circumstances, but those little crib notes in Colonel Makepeace's file, before the colonel went rogue for the NID-" Her fists clenched.

"Remind subject Rosalie Makepeace remains under care courtesy Sen. Kin." Hammond looked up. "Senator Kinsey?"

"I haven't found anything to prove that just yet, sir," Janet cautioned.

"I knew the Colonel had a sister, but he never mentioned that she had difficulties." The general looked as if he'd bitten into something foul. "Lock and key, Doctor."

"Yes, sir. Permission to hope you throw him out so hard he bounces?"

"I don't think I heard that, Major Fraiser." Hammond met her gaze squarely. "You will, of course, treat Dr. MacKenzie with all due military courtesy expected of a medical professional caring for a confined prisoner."

Janet stood at attention. "Of course, sir."

The general nodded, satisfied. "Now, Colonel. If we could turn our attention to the minor matter...."

"The reports don't match," Daniel said hastily. "The Tok'ra's."

Yeah. That, Jack thought darkly. "Between what Carter and Yuy got out of their computers and what Jacob turned over, we've got some serious holes, sir." He held up four fingers. "They didn't tell us they've still got spies on the planet and in Dimme's command. They didn't tell us Dimme's been negotiating with Apophis to move into that section of Heru'ur's territory for the past three months. They didn't tell us their agents instigated those talks, or that the big selling point was Dimme promising Apophis 'weapons of old against the Tok'ra'. And they didn't tell us just what Heru'ur had in his Gault warehouses that got the High Council to set up this whole mess in the first place."

"That's five, Jack," Daniel muttered.

"Whatever." Jack drew a breath, willing his hands still. Going to wring Jacob's scrawny... hold it right there, O'Neill. He and Selmac got played on this one, too. "Apparently, our friends got a lot of weapons out of those storehouses before Dimme crashed the party. But some of them they left, with a little added C-4 to make things interesting, and one of them - one falcon-brains meant to use on dear old Mom - they just moved. Right into Dimme's ship, while she was distracted chasing us."

"They've got enough bombs on remote trigger to incinerate everything within fifty miles of the Stargate," Daniel picked up the thread. "And their agents in Dimme's command now have access to Heru'ur's weapon against Hathor. A drug specifically designed to sedate Queens."

"They're going to snatch her, blow the place, and make it look like we did it," Jack summed up. "And the only thing stopping them is Dimme's computer firewalls sealing off just where Sanq is. They want that info, sir. Bad."

"The last report projected they'd need another week to breach Dimme's security," Daniel said quietly. "That was yesterday."

Hammond blew out a slow breath. "How much does the Alliance know?"

"Wing Zero? Everything but Jacob's report," Jack said bluntly. "Sir, I'd request that we consider turning that over at some point. Let the Alliance know not all the Tok'ra are trying to screw them."

Hammond frowned. "I take it they're upset."

"Upset?" Janet's knuckles clenched white on her notebook. "Colonel, are you saying the Tok'ra are planning to frame Earth for wiping out innocent civilians?"

"Looks that way, Doc." Jack shrugged. "Treaty or no Treaty, General, if this goes down - Dimme's a Queen. The Goa'uld are short on those. Mix that with a massive loss of life they can trace back to our doorstep... the System Lords will have an 'oops' near Earth and deal with the Asgaard later. And Sanq isn't even in the Treaty. They'll be toast." He folded his arms. "I think we're all way past upset, sir."

"Lady Peacecraft said something about looking well in the blood of her enemies," Daniel noted.

"I'm beginning to like that lady," Janet said dryly.

Hammond's mouth pressed into a grim line. "Less than six days."

"And ha'taks on the other side," Jack muttered. "I know, sir." Dammit, the SGC wasn't built for major military assaults-

Fingers drummed softly on paper. "We need to talk to Commander Une."

"Dr. Jackson?" Hammond glanced toward the distracted archaeologist.

Daniel froze, hand poised above damning pages. "Ah... Anne Une. She's the head of the Preventers. Lady Peacecraft can request Wing Zero's assistance, but if we're going to have our demolitions people working with Preventer strike teams - and we're going to have to if the Tok'ra set it up to look like our explosives, the Wings have stuff like C-4 but I know detonation switches are pretty tricky from one culture to another, so we really need to talk to her so she can get the Alliance Council rolling... what?"

The general blinked. "Colonel. Your honest opinion."

We're not alone. We might not have to do this alone. Hot damn! "Call the Commander and start talking. Fast," Jack added. "And get ready for casualties, Janet. Even if this works, throwing together two different forces is gonna be messy as hell-"

Incoming traveler blared over the alarm system. "General, we've got an ID code," Sergeant Davis' voice came over the intercom, "It's Sanq!"

"Chevron five is coding... chevron five is locked in place...."

"Ground those news hovers!" Preventer Lucrezia Noin ordered, one hand woven into short blue hair, securing the ear-piece warning her of L3 Main's imminent invasion. Hover whine died away, leaving the medical alert siren a distant blare through the emptying streets below. Noin flicked a glance across the gray expanse of the Angels Hospital roof, checking positions of the 'Gate guards. Every year we hash it all out and decide to keep the L3 Stargate here... and every time we open it, I think it's a bad idea all over again. Damn you, Zechs - you'd better not get yourself killed hunting Reavers while I'm handling guests! "Dai, where's Doctor-"

"I have what you asked for, Preventer Noin." Pale and grim, Dr. Sabin Ellary hustled through the Preventers' cordon, medical kit in hand and half-grown raven clinging to his shoulder. He tossed his head, absentmindedly trying to flip back the brunet ponytail currently pinned up from yet another stint in the secure ward. "A dozen L3 immunization kits... shouldn't your Preventers have their shots?"

"We're getting outside help." Please, let them be able to help, Noin willed the universe. Please let Sally be right....

Ellary sucked in a breath, his eyes almost as bright as his black-feathered companion's. "Then - there's hope? I asked Dr. Pailm to stand by, but at least two of the children - we can't find their parents. If it comes down to euthanize or infect-"

Noin watched the last chevron lock. "I'd keep that option in reserve."

And silver-blue blazed outward.

Wormhole stabilized. Noin let out a breath as silver settled into the shimmering circle of the 'Gate. And now we see if the Goa'uld sneaked in this time....

But the figure stepping out of the silvery curtain was almost as familiar as her life partner; you tended to remember the people who'd shot at you, then shot with you. "Heero!"

"Noin." The leader of Wing Zero nodded once as a graying man in green and blue stepped through the 'Gate after him, followed by more familiar and unfamiliar faces dragging a pull-cart of boxes with alien labels. The pilot's hands flicked out, Safe. Not under threat. More to follow. "We brought what you asked."

"Ooof!"

I didn't ask for a Council member in the middle of a medical emergency! Noin bit back the words as Relena dusted herself off. It wasn't as if their ambassador could have stayed behind with all her bodyguards desperately needed here.

"Lady Peacecraft!" one of her junior Preventers blurted.

"Just get me to Colony Hall," Relena said unsteadily, leaning against Hrere's fur as she fought 'Gate nausea. "I need a secure link to Commander Une...."

Sally touched wormhole-frost on the boxes, traded a speaking glance with short redhead in white over green beside her. "Who's the medic in charge?"

"Dr. Po, Dr. Ellary," Noin said swiftly, almost dragging the man with her as she waved in orderlies to help Wing Zero and the strangers. Most of the faces were familiar, caught off the video from Earth's first visit, but the redhead and the balding man in an unlabeled green uniform were new. Tau'ri doctors? "Where do these go?"

The redhead said something fast and alien; Reaver was about all Noin made out before the woman turned completely around-

And stared, open-mouthed.

Oh. My. God.

For a moment Janet forgot the nauseating jolt of the wormhole, the nagging sirens, the deadly emergency at hand. Forgot, almost, to breathe.

You can see the world curve.

Skyscrapers and parks and streets stretched out below their rooftop, arcing up in the distance where earth-born eyes expected a horizon. Janet tilted her head back, following that impossible, green-and-steel curve up into the clouds....

Clouds. I'm on a space colony - a rotating ring! - and there are clouds, and trees, and fields, and a city spread over miles-

"Careful." Trowa caught her just before she began to tip. "Planet-born perspective fools you. Keep your eyes close until you get used to it."

"You get used to - hey!" Janet slapped at the needle Trowa had slipped into her arm. Too late.

"L3 emergency inoculations," Sally said briskly as she pulled her needle out of a grumbling Jack. "You're going to be near or working in Angels Hospital's emergency secure ward. I am not interested in shipping a case of Nervefire or Creeping Yellow back to Earth."

"I don't need this," Jacob growled as Wufei latched onto him.

"Take it anyway," Jack said, edge in his voice as the rest of his team submitted to Duo and Quatre. "Unless you want the nice docs to wonder about you."

"And be glad it's not L2 or L4." Quatre rubbed an arm as if in memory. "Those hurt."

"If this were L2 or L4, I wouldn't let any of you come, Colonel," Sally said flatly. "Get to me tomorrow and I'll start you on preliminary immunizations for those colonies. You want to give your immune system a week before you take chances with those bugs." She hesitated. "Colonel, I don't know how many mass medical emergencies you've seen-"

"Madhouse," Jack said shortly as Wing Zero scrambled into the light armor the other Preventers had brought. "Yeah. Daniel? Translate for the nice ladies."

"You haven't seen these things move, Jack!"

"Fast, deadly, nasty as hell - I think we get the picture." Jack fixed the archaeologist with his gaze. "Point is to stop them before Janet runs out of drugs. Right?"

"Right." Daniel swallowed. "Be careful."

"Be sure that you are as well, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c hefted his staff weapon as he headed across the roof with the rest of the Preventers. "I have not yet been able to determine from Chang the proper behavior at Alliance weddings."

"Oh, very funny...."

The elevator ride down was fast and odd, doors sealing with a hiss before they dropped. "Vacuum-proof," Sally said at their startled glance toward the noise. The orderlies hadn't even noticed, busy studying the to-them alien boxes of supplies. "I know, it took me a while to get used to the idea, too. Just about every door on a colony can seal airtight. It's very bad manners to leave doors open."

Janet shivered. We're in space. Not on Earth. Not even on another planet. Hard vacuum. Suddenly the steel around them felt incredibly fragile. "Are atmosphere losses common?"

"No, thank the kami. Maintenance catches most of them. But colonists train their kids early what to do if there are. It saves lives."

"Crrr-awk?" Bright black eyes peered at Janet; the brunet doctor smiled weakly, ruffling glossy feathers. He looked between them, asking a quick question.

"Dr. Janet Fraiser, Daniel, Dr. Sabin Ellary and Sawagi," Sally introduced them. She dropped into Sanq's Universal, speaking swiftly.

"She's telling him you're the doctor, I'm just the translator in case things get out of hand," Daniel said in an undertone. "He's saying things are heading that way fast; they've got... gods, thirty-two patients, dosed up on everything they've got, and they're already starting to lose the children. Less mass to convert." He listened, paling. "They've had to restrain the three - companions? - in the veterinary wing, they want to stay with their people, but they're panicking at the Reaver scent. Janet, those three are Beastmasters!"

"Lucky for L3." Sally switched back to English with a grimace. "The first Reaver that got near a group of people already found them running like hell. The animals didn't know what that scent was, but they knew it was wrong."

"Where'd it come from?" Janet shot at Ellary as the doors hissed open.

"Nobody knows yet," Sally said grimly, following the raven-carrying doctor down the pale blue hall. "Right now the whole colony's in epidemic lockdown. No ships in or out, no suits in or out, stick to your shelter or go on the streets at your own risk. Preventers are good shots, but anyone can miss."

"You have an organized plan for this?" Janet suppressed another shiver, thinking of the mass chaos if even one Reaver were let loose on Earth. In a big city. Or even a small city. Like the one around Cassie's school.... It'd be a slaughter.

"Centuries of System Lord bio-weapons." Sally stopped in front of the secure ward's guarded doors, snatching a translucent face-shield and strap-on arm and shin greaves from the supplies stacked outside. "Armor up. We've got no idea how soon victims become infectious. And-"

Foot-thick doors opened on piercing shrieks.

"-They're already delirious."

It's going to be ugly, Janet told herself, fumbling on her own armor. Kids, and something that...eats you, like it did Teal'c. It's going to be ugly. Know it and move on.

She stalked in on Ellary's heels, head high, refusing to falter. Not at the sight of two dozen adults and half as many kids manacled to their treatment beds. Not at the pair of cursing orderlies holding down a gray-green tendril while a third sprayed hardening blue foam to lock it down. Not at the tears running down an exhausted nurse's face as she played the amber glow of a healing device across the darkness spreading through a little girl's veins.

"'Kaa-chan!" Dark hair was soaked with sweat, snarling as the small head twisted feverishly on the pillow. "'Kaa-chan...."

Daniel winced. "She's-"

"I know," Janet bit out, heart constricting. Language didn't matter. You could always hear when a child was calling for Mommy.

The mother in her wanted to scream. Wreak havoc. Kill something, slow and painfully. Preferably Dimme.

Later. Kill her later, the doctor thought coldly. "All right, people! I need IV lines in and body weights of each patient. Glucose and metabolic supplements now, these people need to live long enough for the RNA blockers to work. Let's move!"

A/N on the Sanq System and associated System Lords:

Sanq's main population is an uneven mix of Japanese and Old European with a scattering of Toltec, courtesy of Susanowo and Sthenno Coatlicue, who did not experiment with plagues, unlike the rest of the eight System Lords.

Heero Yuy: L1, Susanowo the Japanese storm god, known in legend for killing an eight-headed dragon. Ethnic origin: Ancient Japan, with some Old European and Ainu.

Duo Maxwell: L2, the three Morrigu, Babd, Nemain, and Macha, Celtic goddesses of warfare, death, and destruction. Ethnic origin: Celts as of 1000 BC. Which means anywhere in the British Isles across the channel through Spain, France, and into Germany is up for grabs.

Quatre Rebarba Winner: L4, Lamashtu and Dimme, Assyrian and Akkadian plague-demonesses, notable for having been daughters of the head good god in their respective pantheons who then chose to turn to darkness and destruction. You don't get much scarier than that. Ethnic origin: Mesopotamia (Iran-Iraq area nowadays) and northward.

Chang Wufei: L5, and anyone who's seen "Fair Game" has met Lord Yu who claimed to be born of a dragon. One of the few Goa'uld who did not impersonate a god, BTW; a cruel but reputedly fair legendary emperor of China. Ethnic origin: Chinese.

Trowa Barton ("Triton Bloom") was the real challenge. I researched many, many Gundam Wing sites, and came up with several, often conflicting ethnic backgrounds for the poor guy. Some said Latin America. Some said European. Some said Teutonic. Some said Hispanic. Some said he was from L3. Some said Earth. Some said Earth by way of L3. And on, and on....

The author frankly admits to having thrown up empty hands in resignation.

Fortunately, in Stargate, we have seen System Lords take on more than one identity. For example, in the episode "New Ground", I believe Heru'ur was referred to as Nefertum. And Hathor's sarcophagus was discovered in South or Central America - which would tend to indicate she was impersonating a deity from that area at the time of her imprisonment. And even those Goa'uld who kept to just one deity's name (like Ra seems to have) lifted ethnic groups from multiple places.

So. The classical Gorgons, such as Sthenno, though found in Greek mythology, are not Greek themselves, but have cultural origins leading back to Libya. Through that and the Greek legends their influence could extend anywhere around the Mediterranean from Africa's northern coast well up into central Europe. Especially given that Egeria (the Tok'ra's Queen) was originally a Roman water deity. Given the extent of the Roman Empire at various points, Europe is covered. And from the Gorgon with snakes for hair whose mortal sister Medusa was slain by the son of Zeus, it's a short step to Coatlicue of the serpent skirts (Central America), who in Toltec mythology was killed by the star gods. (Other Goa'uld, anyone?)

Long story short - Sthenno Coatlicue is a catch-all for wherever the heck Trowa comes from!

Flames on Trowa's ethnic background will be used to toast my pizza. G