Of Gods and Men – Part Three

This time Jack didn't want to wake up. It was so much easier to just drift in the quiet world without pain where he could forget that his friends were dead, forget everything that had happened over the past days. But he wasn't given a choice. A booted foot hooked under his stomach had him twisting on the floor, and he couldn't hold back his cry as the chains holding him in place were unlocked and his arms flopped loosely to his side.

Part of his brain urged him to move, to push himself upright, to use this moment of freedom to the most.

But he couldn't.

His hands and arms were gone, numb from their long confinement and even if he could have moved them, his body was incapable of anything more than weak gasps for air. He'd had no water for hours now. He could feel himself dying.

He licked his lips, succeeding in only wiping his dry tongue across the equally dry skin.

Huge paws of hands grabbed his useless arms, hauling him upright, his throbbing legs protesting the movement, the muscles unaccustomed to stretching, his shaking limbs refusing to hold any of his weight. A Jaffa fumbled around his ankles removing the metal bindings and Jack didn't have the energy to fight him, to even offer a kick in defiance.

His head was spinning as oxygen rushed to his brain and he felt as if he was going to faint. Perhaps fainting might be a positive outcome—given the circumstances,

He strained to open his eyes.

They seemed glued shut, but he managed to shake loose the dryness and finally achieved a slit of vision

Where was he? Where had they brought him? Trying to pull his disjointed thoughts together he concentrated the best he could as the sounds inched their way closer to him.

There were soft murmurings, shufflings, whispers—nothing he could identify.

But there was something else.

Underpinning everything was a strange sound, nothing artificial, something organic. He could tell the difference.

He needed to see.

But pulling his head upright to look required effort and energy—more than he had at the moment.

"Kree!" The sudden shout was unbearably loud in his ears.

Then they moved.

He felt the pull on his armpits, his feet dragging behind, and he made a supreme effort to take control of some small part of his own body.

His muscles refused to answer his brain's commands and he found himself merely a spectator in his own life, the Jaffa pulling him forward into the light where the low hum coalesced into the roar of a great crowd stretched out across the plain before the Great Pyramid.

His eyes watered as a wall of heat hit him, rising up from the desert sands just beyond the temple. He blinked. He hadn't thought there was any water left in him.

Forcing his eyes open, he had to see what awaited him. His blurred vision cleared slowly, leaving him gasping at the sight that met his eyes.

People.

Row upon row of people.

Where had they all come from?

He remembered small villages, some tucked away in the shadow of the pyramids others on the banks of the Nile, but he never realized the vast multitude of people the land housed.

A great sea of humanity stood before him and all eyes were fixed on one thing. Him.

This couldn't be good.

Nervous butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, his mouth losing what little moisture was left. Of all times to get stage fright. He wasn't looking his best either. Now if he'd had some time to prepare... Oh well, the audience would have to be happy with what they got.

The Jaffa dragging him out suddenly stopped, apparently reaching their goal—a raised platform in the center of the forecourt. They dropped him bodily onto the sandy floor, knocking the wind from him. It took him several minutes to catch his breath and once he did he tilted his head slightly, trying to get a better look at where he was, only to get an eyeful of Goa'uld—and they didn't look any better from his position.

Shit! For a few beats he stayed slumped forward, waiting for the pain to pass, but when it stubbornly refused to do so he pushed up on hands that felt like bricks attached to the end of his arms until he reached a sort of half kneeling half sitting position.

What now?

He could guess, but he really didn't want to.

Whatever was coming he hoped it would be soon. This sun wasn't doing anything for his complexion.

Instead he concentrated on the figures he could see before him. All of these plans had been for them, to free them of this slavery.

He recognized several in the front rows, acquaintances that had become friends in such an unlikely place and time. These were good people. Honest. Hardworking. Trustworthy.

They didn't deserve this.

But then, neither did Carter or Teal'c.

Instinctively, he searched the crowd for one face, the one face he didn't want to see.

Brown skin, dull brown robes, everything was brown, a study in shades of color.

It was so hard to pick out individuals.

Movement, however, in the center of the crowd drew his attention. Someone was trying to get through, trying to get into the front.

Oh, God! It was him.

Ra was speaking, pontificating as all good Goa'ulds do, but Jack didn't hear him, couldn't really care less what he was saying. Instead, Jack's eyes were fixed on the face of his friend.

There was so much he had to say to him. So much he needed to tell him. But he couldn't. He couldn't speak of their friends' deaths, couldn't tell Daniel how sorry he was that he had led them into this.

But, knowing the community, Daniel might already know about Carter and Teal'c, might have already heard the grisly tale.

He hadn't been able to protect them but he could do one last thing right. Protect his remaining teammate.

Already the people in the crowd around his friend were beginning to notice his actions as he pushed his way forward, his face a mask of despair.

Soon it wouldn't be just the locals that noticed.

What did he think he was doing?

Without thought, Jack straightened up to his full kneeling height. He cleared his throat, summoning up the last moisture left in his mouth. The words falling from his mouth loud enough to be heard several rows into the crowd.

"How many of your Jaffa have fallen to the stealth of the Tok'ra?"

That one simple sentence was enough to stop Ra in his tracks.

The Goa'uld turned, his eyes glowing.

"Don't like the truth, do you?"

The crowd was totally silent. You could hear a pin drop.

Even Daniel had stopped his frantic push to the front. It was working.

"Have you felt them already, felt them slowly draining your power away? No matter what you do, they're not going to stop. They're going to keep fighting you every step of the way. No matter how many you kill, there's always another to replace them. But, do you know what's worse? It's not the Tok'ra that will be your final downfall. No, you will die like the spineless snake you are. Not in battle against a superior force such as the Asgard, but at the hands of one human, a Tau'ri from this planet, from Earth."

The Goa'uld was at his side, his head bent close to Jack's ear. "What do you know of this? Are you Tok'ra?" Long nails gripped his chin, pulling it around. "No, I think not."

"Been there, done that, decided not to get the T-shirt."

"What are you?" The echoing tones of the symbiote rang through Jack's ears and he fought to stay upright, putting every shred of energy he had left into his risky game of distraction.

"I'm what you have to fear. I'm your death."

God, he sounded like a villain from a melodrama. But it was working. Just for a second he saw doubt flare in the snake's face.

"Does that worry you, snakehead, that I know what you are?"

"Nothing you say worries me, human. I am your god."

"False god. Soon to be dead false god."

Ra stepped back, his voice ringing out across the vast area. "You are the one that will die. But, first you will tell me what you know of these matters that are beyond the comprehension of your puny mind."

"Over my dead body."

Jack took a second to glance back to Daniel's position, hoping his own words wouldn't make his friend do anything stupid.

Surely he realized what was at stake here. Why Jack was doing this.

Daniel was meant to be the clever one.

Anguish was written in every line of his face, but he hadn't moved.

His arm was in the tight grip of Ka-tep.

They both knew the stakes. There was still enough of them left to carry on, to continue building on the foundation they'd laid.

To get things back on track.

Things would change here, for the better, Jack knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, but he wasn't going to be around to see them.

Perhaps his words would be enough to scare the snake off—leave Earth entirely. Maybe they wouldn't need a rebellion. People wouldn't have to die.

Perhaps this could change everything—Earth's whole future. And wouldn't Carter just be so pissed at him.

He might have made it better. Hell, Charlie might still be alive in whatever reality he had created. Who knows.

Just thinking about it made his brain hurt.

"If you will not tell me willingly, I have ways to take the information from you."

Jack knew exactly what Mr. Snakiness meant.

He knew how much it was going to hurt, that his resistance of the effects of the ribbon device was going to be the last thing he'd do in this life.

It wasn't like he hadn't been up front and personal with a ribbon device before.

This was probably the most important thing he'd ever done, and he'd be damned if he was going to fail.

He'd go down fighting every step of the way.

Show this snake exactly what so-called weak, puny humans were made of

"Bite me!"

It may not have been original back in the future, but it sure was now.

It didn't take a genius to know what he meant. A murmur came up form the crowd, quickly quelled by the motion of the Jaffa's staff weapons towards them.

As Ra approached, the stone in the ribbon device beginning to glow, Jack sent a final glance toward Daniel, offering a silent apology.

A corresponding nod answered him, the apology accepted. Jack tried to hold back his sigh. At least he'd gained some absolution before his death.

Ra raised his hand.

The first touch of the beam was almost caressing. He could feel himself move into it, as if his will was already being subjugated. His body's weakness was betraying him.

He began to fight, cursing his own frailty.

He locked both his knees and his mind in place.

This was a battle he would win. Ra might take his life, but his soul and his mind would be free.

Ra pressed down on him, grinding the power of the ribbon device deep into his brain. He could feel himself shaking, feel the energy humming through his body.

"Tell me what I need to know."

Whether the words were spoken aloud or not he didn't know, but he answered. "Never."

His response only enraged Ra and the light from the device increased, boring into his mind, the skin on his forehead burning.

He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to get one last glimpse of his only remaining teammate, but he couldn't. They slammed shut, blocking out everything.

He was dying.

He had one last chance. One last opportunity to get things right. For a second he doubted. He was playing god here. Was he any better than the Goa'uld?

But then the doubt was gone, replaced by cold-blooded determination.

The image of Ra's mothership filled his mind. Exploding in a ball of fire that lit the night sky.

"No!"

Ra's cry was the last thing Jack heard.

And as the darkness rushed to meet him he prayed for the world he had created.

xoxoxoxo

Five Years Later

The Jaffa approached Ra slowly, the news he carried could sentence him to death and Ra had not been forgiving as of late.

"My lord," the Jaffa said, kneeling before his God.

"Rise. Why are you here?"

He looked up, cautiously regaining his feet, trying to weigh his words, set his thoughts in order before speaking. "There have been rumors, my Lord."

"Rumors? Speak!"

"Rumors of the dead walking."

"You speak in riddles! Make sense before your annoyance becomes much more."

"It is said that the ones you killed several seasons ago have returned, that they once again walk among the people."

"Impossible," Ra said, but refused to meet the Jaffa's gaze. Was there worry in the eyes of his God? But how was that possible?

"Several villagers have spoken of this. How can this be true?"

"It cannot. Now leave me before I end your mindless drivel once and for all. Be gone from my sight!"

Heart thudding in his chest, he left the main audience chamber, doubts taking root in his mind. He'd been there, standing beside the human when Ra killed him, but yet, he'd heard the rumors of the villagers and had spotted the human of which they spoke.

It was the human O'Neill. There could be no other. And yet, he'd watched him die.

He was divided.

If this was true, if O'Neill walked and lived he had been raised from the dead and the words he'd spoken seasons ago, while seeming heretical at the time, may have been true.

This human had spoken of Ra's death by the hands of a human, a Tau'ri from earth.

He knew he should fight the doubts in his mind, but they were mesmerizing, freeing in their own right. What if Ra was not the god he portrayed? He needed to know more and he knew where to get that information.

One thing was already certain, however. These humans were stronger than they appeared.

It was time to get to know this human, this one they called O'Neill.

End -