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A/N: Brief reference to the Stargate 4th season episode "Divide and Conquer". Continuity-wise, this AU splits off from main Stargate canon just before the 4th season episode "Chain Reaction", so anything before that is "Fair Game". G
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"All told, sir, we lost a lot fewer people than I thought we would," Colonel O'Neill concluded tiredly the next day. His hand twitched toward his left arm; deliberately did not rub the bandage left when Janet had plucked out his IV a few hours before. "Remind me to put Tek'mateh Bra'tac up for a commendation."
Seated in SG-1's favorite infirmary chair, Hammond frowned. "Master Bra'tac wasn't even there, Jack."
"No, sir. But his reputation was." Jack gave him a tired grin. "And Teal'c, Quatre, and Tek'mateh Apuki milked it for everything it was worth to get Dimme's Jaffa to stand down. That guy is respected, sir. We've got to find him."
"It's high on our list of priorities," Hammond assured his second in command. "Dimme's pyramid ship?"
"It's a wreck," Jack admitted. "Might be a salvageable one, though. The Sweepers say it'll take a few days to clear out enough of the debris to be sure. Carter seems to agree with them."
They almost hadn't had that much, Hammond knew. Unlike the malcontents left at the minefield, most of the troops within the ship were all too faithful to the Goa'uld who had ruled them so long. Once they'd realized Dimme had fallen, it'd been a race between Preventers, SGC teams, and desperate Jaffa to see who could gain control of the main reactors first; the allied forces, trying to shut them safely down... or the Jaffa, who wanted to destroy them and every living thing on that continent.
His people had won. Barely.
"Even a wreck may give us enough leverage," Hammond said thoughtfully.
"Sir?" Colonel O'Neill's eyes were shadowed with memories of the fight, and all the letters it would be his responsibility to write now, as commander of those who hadn't been so lucky.
"You do recall that one of the points Lady Peacecraft was firm on was that the Alliance Council did not want to be dealing with a faction group?"
"Yeah...." Dark eyes widened. "Oh, no. You're not serious."
"Commander Une was even more blunt," Hammond stated. "The Wing and the Preventers may lie to civilians about who they are, and where they are, but they do not lie about why they're fighting."
Jack leaned back against the head of his cot, thinking furiously. "They want us to go public?"
"Yes." Hammond folded his hands. "I've spoken with the President. While he would not commit to anything at this particular moment, he did assure me that we now seem to have enough evidence to present our case to the U.N. Security Council."
"Oh, boy...." Jack blinked. Squinted thoughtfully. Glanced over toward gold hair half-buried under a pillow in the cot on his left, the faintest traces of a smirk bending his mouth. "Does this mean we get to declassify certain evidence indicating the pyramids really were built about ten thousand years ago?"
Hammond blinked. Looked at one snoozing archaeologist. Felt the same devil's grin tug at his own lips. "I don't see why not."
"Yes!" Jack pumped a fist in the air. "Score one for the good guys!" Winced a little, and settled back down. "Wait 'til you wake up, Danny. We're going to plan this one right and make those Egyptian pencil-pushers eat their words...."
"How long is he going to sleep?" Hammond asked, concerned. The archaeologist had been dropping off at odd moments ever since he'd come back through the 'Gate. Janet had grounded him in the infirmary until he could stay awake for more than an hour.
"Could be a few more hours, could be longer," Jack shrugged. "Dr. Po says his system still needs a few weeks to catch up with Shi no Yami. She also says Shinigami tend to sleep whenever, wherever, and however in chunks, instead of the eight-hour lumps the rest of us like." He grinned. "You should see some of her holograms of Duo conked out on top of Deathscythe's wing."
"I look forward to it," Hammond assured him. He very much looked forward to learning a great deal about those remarkable young men, and the world that had created them. Created, indeed. Would we have come to that, in our war with the Goa'uld? Would we have dared?
And how much of ourselves would we have lost if we had?
Jack sobered. "Now, about the rest of my team, sir?"
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Wish you were here, sir. Heck, I wish Heero were here. Standing behind her father just outside the Council chamber, carrying tank in hand, Sam checked one more time that Teal'c and Trowa had a bound and silently fuming Salara in hand, while Wufei, Quatre, and Duo backed them all. If only we'd had a little more time....
But they were cutting it close as it was. Jacob had arrived on Gault with the second wave through the 'Gate, staying with the combined forces just long enough to confirm the Tok'ra strike team tasked to capture Dimme had had their ambush... well, ambushed.
Ambushed into little pieces, Sam thought, swallowing a hysterical laugh. The scene hadn't been quite as bad as what Duo had left of various Jaffa all over the ship, but the Goa'uld Queen had definitely made sure that the Tok'ra symbiotes didn't survive long enough to take another host. Oh, god... I definitely have to talk to Janet when this is all over.
And it wasn't over. Not quite yet. Jacob had left Ambrin in charge of finding the last few surviving Gault Tok'ra operatives and coordinating with allied forces and the villagers. Preventer empaths and Beastmasters had taken up guard with the Marines and Air Force Security Forces around the 'Gate encampment, watching for stray Reavers. Most of Dimme's creations had already fallen prey to gunfire or poison darts; a few luckier ones had been drugged up and might survive the transition back to human. Salara and Aien were now in Jacob's furious custody. And all the combined casualties had by now been 'Gated back to Earth or Sanq, depending on the nature of their injuries.
Or - as with Heero and Jack - depending on whose doctors had the best chance of surviving the patient's inevitable bad temper.
But there was one last critical loose end to tie up.
Sam took a deep breath, and stepped forward into the Vorash Council chamber. Here we go.
Tok'ra whispers died to silence, as the resistance fighters took in exactly what was in her tank. The hush swept the room, igniting fiercer whispers in its wake. In one quick glance Sam took in disbelief, amazement, tears-
Tears?
Beyond doubt. No one sobbed openly, but eyes were bright everywhere. And the look on Garshaw's face....
The Grand Councilor was taut and pale, one fist pressed to her lips as if she'd seen her dearest friend sent to the gallows - and the rope inexplicably give way.
Why didn't you tell us a queen was that important? Sam thought desperately. Why?
Because it would have shown a weakness. Because it would have proven the Tok'ra weren't perfect; that they needed something only the help of a younger, lesser race could grant them. Because Goa'uld didn't ask, they took.
And underneath it all you are still Goa'uld, Sam realized bleakly. Like Stheno.
"Selmac." Garshaw took her gaze from the tank with an effort. "Where are Rede and the others? You did not list them among the dead."
"Taking some time to think," Jacob said tartly, stalking up to the table. "Friendly fire tends to do that to you."
"I followed the Council's will," Salara bit out.
"So I'm told." Jacob didn't look away from Garshaw. "If I were you I wouldn't push them. You might get a few of them back. Think you've lost Ambrin and Rede for good, though. His sister lost her husband and every other adult male relative she had to Dimme's Reavers, and there's no way he's going to let her kids grow up without an uncle. Especially not when the alternative is working for the people who arranged for Dimme to take over the planet in the first place." Jacob's fist crashed down on the table. "God damn it! What were you thinking?"
"For the greater good," another Councilor began.
"Don't, Undine," Jacob growled. "Just don't." He took a breath. "Major Carter?"
Major Carter, not Sammie. They were pulling out all the formal stops today. Sam stepped forward, set the tank on the table before Garshaw. "Yosuuf, Grand Councilor Garshaw," Sam said with military dignity, "In honor of the treaty which exists between the Tok'ra and the people of Earth, and in accordance with the goodwill that the people of Earth continue to extend to our allies against the Goa'uld, we grant you custody of this child of Dimme."
"It is a noble gesture," Garshaw began.
"With the provision," Sam ground over her words, "That Preventer empaths of Sanq's Alliance, who are also Earth's allies, be granted regular visits in order to ensure the larva's continued health and mental stability."
Hand already reaching for the tank, Garshaw jerked her gaze up as if she'd been burned. "What?"
"The child is not accountable for her mother's crimes," Quatre said in even, formal Goa'uld, overriding the sudden buzz of anger in the chamber. "We killed her mother and tore her from all that she knew. It would be inhuman to compound those offenses by leaving her in uncaring hands."
"You think we would not care for our own child?" Anise stood straight, eyes flashing fire.
Wufei gave her a cold, dismissive look. "Your actions caused the deaths of many children of Gault," he said in wry, chill English. "The data you planned to steal on Sanq would have led to the deaths of many Alliance children. Why should we believe you would care any better for a Goa'uld?"
Two out of four, Trowa doesn't talk when he doesn't have to... why do I feel like we're missing someone? Sam stifled the sudden urge to look for a braided chatterbox. Though she did trade a quick glance with Teal'c. Who seemed cool and composed as Mt. Fuji on a slow day.
Of course, Teal'c would probably look like that if the roof fell in on him.
"This isn't a negotiation, Garshaw," Jacob said flatly. "Those are the terms. Take it or leave it." He studied the Councilor with cold eyes. "And if you decide to cut me out of the loop on this one, just remember how easily SG-1 got in here last time."
"Those breaches in security have been filled," Aldwin growled.
Off to Sam's right, Trowa snorted.
"We did not decide to follow this course of action lightly, Jacob," Garshaw began regally. "If you will allow Selmac's wisdom to guide you, you will understand-"
Jacob's head dipped. "As my host would say," Selmac stated wryly, "Save it for someone who cares, Garshaw."
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A queen, Caton thought, feeling his host body sweat as Selmac and Garshaw played their petty Tok'ra games of power. They've brought a queen.
Which explained why he'd heard no word from his queen and mother. Dimme would let her most precious children part from her only on her death.
My Queen... you shall be avenged.
That, he was certain of; as sure as that larva swam in the tank. Any child of Dimme would bear enough of her memories of Egeria to despise all her children. And enough of the fragments they had stolen from Stheno to loathe the weakling Tok'ra all the more. A pity it had been Egeria who was Queen. Had it been Stheno, who had the intelligence and drive to be a proper System Lord....
Incorporating her lifecode experiments was risky, but worth it. Our larvae prospered, while Hathor's line bore fewer and fewer queens. Had Stheno herself born children - and allied with us! - not even Ra could have kept us from power.
Power that still might be theirs, if this little one of Dimme's survived. But she would need allies. Surviving spies, to aid her once the Tok'ra were fools enough to grant her a body. Spies who had found their way into the very heart of Apophis' power, so they might wrest part of it to her service at the most opportune moment.
As he might, if he escaped now.
His duty to his Queen had not ended when he took Houerv's place among these Tok'ra, decades ago, with nothing but the brief moments of her voice and face to stand between him and eternal loneliness amongst his enemies. It would not end with her death.
I am your blade, my Queen. I will not fail you.
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Sneaking through a hundred-odd Tok'ra is both easier and harder than it looks, Duo thought, ghosting through the crowd. Easier, 'cause they're used to depending on that prickle of naquadah to tell them someone's close, and if you're not a Survivor, even if they see you, they can't sense you. Harder, 'cause....
If they see you, they can't sense you. And that can be enough to tip off the smart ones something's wrong.
From the way his target was sneaking out the chamber's far entry, Caton already had a clue something was wrong.
Stepping away from Garshaw, Selmac scanned the chamber. "Where is Caton?"
"Why should that matter?" Anise shrugged.
"Alphabetically, or in order by incident?" Quatre murmured.
Duo grinned. Good one, Cat. Just a little farther...
"Explain," Garshaw ordered.
"Oh, I think these," Sam set down the rest of her burden; papers, disks, and compiled data on Goa'uld tablets, "Will explain everything." She stepped back a pace. "They're from Dimme's logs. About one particular medusa she used to infiltrate her own agent-"
He was almost in grabbing range....
"Zatarc!" Caton howled.
K'so! Blue flashed even as Duo grabbed his prey. What a day for the damn idiots to shoot straight-
Caton let Duo's limp form drag him down with him.
Wha-? He didn't get that much of the zat backwash-
The spy's mouth clamped on his, host body twitching with the subtle tremors of a symbiote's released poison, and Duo felt a cold shock of fear.
Take a new host and a hostage all at once, and get out in the confusion. Not bad for a half-baked plan. You sly, sneaky son of a snake....
Inside, Shinigami was laughing.
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Damn it! Flashed across Selmac's mind as zats jumped into Tok'ra hands, Duo went down, and the man he'd thought held his friend Houerv fell with him, twitching on the floor. Caton didn't survive as Dimme's spy this long by being dumb!
"You brought a zatarc here-" Anise lunged.
Teal'c put her down with a right cross.
::Nice shot,:: Jacob commented as they ran for the writhing Wing pilot. Who rolled to his feet suddenly, and bolted for the exit, leaving a sprawled body behind.
"He's switched hosts!" Selmac snarled. "Take him-"
"No!" Icy rage swept out from Sandrock's pilot, alien and threatening. "No zats!"
Alien weapons turned toward the small blond, Tok'ra hands behind them shaking. Chang's eyes narrowed.
::Is it me, or is it hot in here?:: Jacob quipped.
"No zats. Trust me," Quatre said grimly. "He won't get far."
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Make it to the surface, dial out, find a bolthole, Caton told himself, dodging down the next set of blue crystal tunnels as he ran for the nearest transport rings. The body he was in now was young, but lithe, trained, and well armed. He should have no trouble taking out any of his enemies who pursued. Even the Sanq Preventers.
At the edge of his mind, something giggled.
Frowning, Caton dug into his host's mind for more information on just who was pursuing him. There should be facts, memories, fears-
The image of a tongue sticking out met his probe. :Nyah. Macha's kid couldn't get anything out of me; what makes you think you can?:
You've been a host before? Caton slashed the demand at his host. Macha had captured members of Wing Zero more than once; of course she would have tried to have her children possess them.
::Yep,:: Duo agreed all too cheerfully. ::For about, oh, say three minutes?::
Damn Preventer countermeasures. That hosts had dared create toxins to slay those who should rule them... how dared they shape such a perversion of nature!
::Heh. Not exactly. Two minutes forty-five seconds, forty-six....::
Caton seized one of the rare ladders in the lower tunnels and started to climb. Counting won't save you, fool of a human!
::There you go, making assumptions again... you Goa'uld are good at that, aren't you? Matter of fact, counting helps a lot. Keeps me focussed, which keeps you mostly out of my head, which means you spend all your effort trying to get into my head - and not a drop looking at what's going on at the biochemical level. And by the way, Caton?::
And his hands fell limp off the ladder, helpless to grip, helpless to move, as the tunnel floor smashed air from his lungs. The world was fire, and acid, and something was eating him-
::Welcome to hell,:: Shinigami snarled.