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PART NINE

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Nuclear Facility
5:23pm

"Any ideas yet?"

"Give her a break, Maybourne, she hasn't had to save the world for the last three years – she needs time to get back into it," Jack muttered, spinning a pencil between his fingers.

Maybourne sighed and dropped onto the chair opposite Jack. "Any inklings?"

"All we've got so far is an EMP, but then you already know that one. Fraiser's pushing for it, but we don't really know how effective it will be."

"So what do we do?"

"Did you know the bugs were only released on US soil?" Jack asked.

Maybourne nodded. "But they'll spread across the islands and oceans within a few weeks at most."

"Fraiser doesn't think they'll get that far, and I'm inclined to agree with her."

"You are?" Maybourne questioned. "Why?"

"We're the example, Maybourne," Jack said quietly. "Once they've destroyed us, the Goa'uld will stop the bugs before they've spread too far. But the threat will always be there, and the rest of the world will be well aware of it.

"And?"

"Relatively easy way to win a war, don't you think?"

Maybourne was quiet, considering.

"Fraiser wants us to set off as many EMPs as possible. Make a viable dent in the bugs. Problem is, Maybourne, we don't know who's compromised and who's not, so who do we tell about our brilliant plan of resistance?"

Maybourne stared at Jack. "Don't tell me you're giving up, Jack. Jack O'Neill doesn't know how to give up."

Jack remained silent, the pencil still spinning between his fingers.

"The longer we sit here watching you spin that pencil, the more people die."

"You think I don't know that?" Jack sighed again, and the pencil ceased its spinning. "I don't see any other options, Maybourne. The Goa'uld are here. They've got the Stargate. We've got the bugs from hell attacking with no realistic way of stopping them. You tell me what to do, Maybourne, and I'll do it."

"You are giving up," Maybourne realised.

"Harlowe and Davis both think detonating and EMP would do more harm than good," Jack said at length. "It would wipe out hospital systems and communications for miles – and it wouldn't get rid of the bugs. Keep them away, maybe, but not stop them indefinitely."

"They're destroying everything, Jack."

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, Maybourne. I don't have any bright ideas, and neither does Carter. How about you?"

"Fresh out."

"I'm not usually Mr. Negativity, Maybourne, but the only way I see clear of this mess is to get access to the gate, like Davis suggested, and beg for help."

Maybourne sighed. "There's no way we'll get access to that mountain, Jack."

"No," Jack agreed, "pity Carter can't just whip another gate together."

Maybourne gaped. "It couldn't be that easy again. Could it?"

Jack frowned. "What?"

"Another Stargate."

---

Nuclear Facility
6:22pm

"After their disastrous attempts at running their own off-world missions, the Russian government agreed to put their Stargate program on hold, and work co-operatively with the American government at the SGC," Paul Davis said, passing out several sheets.

"When their DHD was destroyed several years ago while on loan to the SGC, it finalised the ending of the Russian Stargate Program – the time it takes to get computer systems for a Stargate online and offline made it virtually impossible for them to run the program without our knowledge."

"We all know about this already, Davis," Jack snapped.

"I don't, Jack," Cassandra inserted.

Jack shrugged, and Davis continued. "According to Dr. Svetlana Markhov, who Major Carter managed to get hold of, the Stargate is still kept in the same facility – unused. She doesn't know if her government has been compromised – it is highly likely, though – but at this stage there has been no indications the Goa'uld are going to attempt to take the second Stargate at this point in time. The fact that the Russian government hasn't used the Stargate to launch a counter-attack or at least evacuate their people does indicate they are compromised."

"Our biggest problem is manpower," Jack cut in. "Carter and I need to get to Russia where the second gate is. Carter can get the gate going, with Markhov, and hopefully we can find Thor and convince him to help us."

"How are you planning to get to Russia, Jack?" Maybourne asked.

"You ever flown in a death glider, Maybourne?"

"Why risk stealing a death glider? Why not raid an airfield instead? Wouldn't it be safer?" Janet asked.

"The Goa'uld technology operates on crystals, Janet," Sam explained. "We're going to be out in the open, whether we're attempting to get an aircraft or a death glider, so will have to consider that we might need to set off an EMP if the swarms arrive in the middle of it. Also, death gliders are faster, and less likely to attract attention flying around than an earth-built craft. And if need be, they can leave the atmosphere too."

Cassandra nodded to herself – it made sense.

"So what do you want me to do?" she asked.

Jack looked across at her mother almost guiltily before he answered. "Anything you can do, Cass."

---
5:04am

The SUV rolled to a gentle stop beside the large, shadowed building. There were several minutes of silence in the vehicle, tension saying all that was needed to be said. Sam scrubbed her fingers nervously through her downy hair, accidentally knocking Cassie with her elbow.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Not like there's much room," Cass pointed out with a trace of humour in her voice.

No, Sam mused, with ten people somehow crammed into the vehicle, there definitely wasn't a lot of room.

"This is it, people," the Colonel said, his voice a low rumble through the vehicle. "Davis, you and your man ready?"

"Yes, sir," Paul Davis said, and Sam imagined he would have saluted had there been the room and it was light enough for them to see him.

"Good. You have the rendezvous?"

"Yes, Colonel. Good luck, sir."

"Good luck, Paul," O'Neil murmured. "Carter, are you and Samuels good to go?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we go," he said.

Silently, and almost exactly synchronised, the doors of the SUV opened and the five of them clambered out – Paul, a Marine who Sam now knew was called Tom, Samuels, herself, and the Colonel.

"We'll see you at the rendezvous, Colonel," Paul murmured. "Good luck."

The grass whispering under their boots was the only sound made as Paul and Tom disappeared into the darkness.

"Carter," O'Neill whispered, his hand finding hers in the still air. "I… Good luck, Major."

"Thank you, sir," she whispered back, squeezing his fingers. "I'll see you at the rendezvous too, sir."

"We'll be waiting," he said, letting go. "Good luck to you too, Samuels."

Sam reached back into the SUV and pulled out the pack she'd been seated on for the trip from the shelter, holding it close to her chest. "First light, sir," she whispered, watching as he climbed back into the SUV and smoothly started the engine.

"You ready?" Samuels asked, his voice almost gentle as it came out of the darkness.

"As I'll ever be."

Inside the hanger, as Davis had promised, was a small aircraft, its white paintwork glinting under the narrow beam of light from Samuel's flashlight.

"Nice," Sam murmured, letting her eyes follow the smooth lines of the Cessna. "Haven't played with one of these for a while."

"You sure you remember how?"

"Just like riding a bicycle. Open the hanger doors wider, Samuels, I want to check the fuel lines. It's not long now until sunrise."

---
5:45am

The P-90 was heavy in Walter's hands. He shifted it uncomfortably against his legs, wriggling his fingers and trying to dislodge the pins and needles from his limbs.

"Nervous?" Maybourne asked.

Walter swallowed and shrugged. "Haven't been on the frontlines for a long, long time."

"But you work at the SGC," Cassandra whispered.

"As a technician," Walter pointed out.

"Okay, break it up, people," O'Neill murmured. "Maybourne, you take Cassandra and Walter. Position them on the left flank, and get into position. The sun'll come up soon, and we don't want those bugs anywhere near us. Cass, are you right with the detonator?"

"Yes, Jack," Cassandra said firmly.

"Great. Bek, you and Andrews are with me on the right flank. Once you're in position, not a sound until Carter and Samuels arrive, okay?"

Murmurs of understanding sounded through the group, and O'Neill nodded. "Good luck, people. Let's go."

By the time Maybourne was satisfied with Bek and Walter's positions, the night sky had faded to a soft grey, and Walter could see the detail of his boots. Crouching against his tree, his firearm resting on his knees, Walter bit his lips and prayed as he watched morning come.

---
6:21am

"Okay," Sam murmured, wrapping her fingers around the controls, "let's get this bird in the air, Samuels."

"It's your call, Carter," Samuels returned.

The small plane jumped to life, and Sam idled it neatly out of the hanger, the thick purr of the Cessna rumbling through her with a familiarity that surprised her. As the sun appeared over the mountaintops, the Cessna lifted easily into the air, the stillness of the morning giving them an extraordinarily smooth ride.

"Nice," Samuels said appreciatively, and Sam was gratified to note that his hold on the supports relaxed somewhat.

From the air, the view was spectacular, Sam thought, and then frowned. Spectacular, but strangely empty. "Nothing's moving down there," she observed.

"Everyone's fled the bugs, Carter," Samuels explained.

"There's not much animal movement either," Sam commented.

"It's 6:38, Carter," Samuels said. "You ready?"

"Time to get this show on the road."

Sam turned the plane to the North, heading them straight toward the large mountain now crowned by an alien ship, an image she had hoped she'd never see.

"Holy shit," Samuels breathed as they moved closer, "that thing is huge."

"Oh yeah," Sam agreed. "Can you see any small ships?"

"There," Samuels said after several seconds, "to the left."

"They'll have gliders guarding that," Sam said confidently. "Here we go."

"How fast exactly are the gliders?" Samuels questioned worriedly.

"A lot faster than we are."

"Then we better get moving, because there are at least three coming to us."

"Three? Shit," Sam grunted. "That's more than we hoped for."

"Well, they're coming our way, Carter, let's get out of here."

Sam banked the plane back around to the south, pressing it as fast as she dared. The plane shuddered and whined angrily at the demand. "How far away are they?" she demanded.

"They're gaining, quickly," Samuels yelled. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

"I'm doing the best I can, Samuels!" Sam snapped. "How many are there?"

"Two, one of them fell back."

"Good," Sam grunted. "Are they within range?"

"How close is in range?"

"Samuels, you're fucking useless!" Sam yelled, jerking on the sticks and dropping them into a nosedive. A bolt of energy flew over head, disappearing into a dark cloud. She rolled plane to the left and then pulled up sharply, hoping the clumsy movements of the plane could help them evade the gliders for just a little longer.

"DROP CARTER, DROP. I REPEAT, DROP. THEY'RE TOO FUCKING CLOSE, SAM, DROP!" O'Neill's voice sputtered on the radio.

"Drop!" Samuels screamed. "He said to drop!"

"We're too far away!" Sam yelled. The plane shuddered and jerked, rocking as an explosion tore through the left motor.

"We've been hit!" Samuels yelled.

"I KNOW!" Sam yelled. "Just – oh, crap," she breathed, looking ahead. The dark cloud they were approaching was moving; the swarms had arrived.

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6:57am

The morning had dawned still and quiet, and Cassandra had peered up at the sky visible between the branches of the tree she was hiding against. Several metres away from her, its casing shining artificially in the dappled sunlight, the launch was nestled in a clearing. Her sweaty fingers clutched at the detonator, the small remote feeling horribly slippery in her clumsy hands.

The stillness of the air was shattered by a distant droning, and she peered up at the blue sky searching for a sign of the small plane Sam was flying. Instead, she saw a dark cloud writhing and twisting and buzzing in the sky. Seconds later the small aircraft flew into view, smoking horrifically from a broken and damaged wing. It flew straight at the swarm, spinning drunkenly.

"CASS! Hit the EMP, NOW!" Jack screamed on the radio. Her fingers fumbled with the detonator. "CASS!"

"Not yet, Cass!" Sam's voice disagreed over the radio. "Wait!"

She watched the plane lurch, waiting, waiting, waiting until two small rag dolls fell from the plane.

"CASSANDRA! NOW!" Jack ordered across the radio.

The swarm raged and arrowed toward the falling bodies as their parachutes opened into bright white sails, turning a silent fall into a graceful descent.

There was a buzzing sound, and Cassandra stared up at the single bug hovering above her.

Her finger touched the detonator, but the bug was faster and her body was on fire as the world turned dark and the buzzing faded.

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