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PART TWELVE

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Cimmeria

Geirwyn had aged, Jack thought as he stared up at her. The tangled locks of her hair were streaked with an iron grey, matching the woman's demeanour of steel and strength.

"Be careful, Colonel," she said, helping him sit up. "You wounds are severe, but Ellat says you have older injuries which are of a greater concern."

"I'm fine," Jack said, but his voice was hoarse and grated in his throat.

"Of course you are," she said dryly. "What brings you to Cimmeria, Colonel O'Neill? I did not think we would be seeing you again."

"I didn't think so either," he admitted, resting his elbows on his knees and trying to catch his breath between the burning stabs of pain in his chest and the fire burning hotly in his shoulder. "God, I'm glad I'm here," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You have not come to see us though, have you?" She was, he realised, as perceptive as ever.

"No," he agreed, "we have to find Thor."

"It has been a long time since we heard from either the SGC or Thor," she said, and he detected a note of concern in her voice. "We thought you would want to speak with him, so I have already summoned him."

"Thank you," Jack murmured. "The people who came through the gate with me?" he asked.

"Not your usual companions. They are fine, but the man – Maybourne – he is injured too."

Jack rubbed at his face, stretching the kinks out of his neck before rising unsteadily to his feet, silently accepting Geirwyn's steadying arm. "Geirwyn, I don't want to be rude, but I have speak to Thor as soon as possible. How long do you think it will be before he arrives?"

"I cannot answer that," Geirwyn said apologetically, "he appears when he does."

"I need to see the others," Jack said.

"Is your world in trouble, Colonel?"

"Yes," he said, "very big trouble. We need Thor's help."

"Is there anything my people can do-"

The achingly familiar flash of white blinded him, making his eyes burn as he shut them and staggered for balance without Geirwyn's arm there to steady him.

"O'Neill."

Blinking owlishly, Jack took a few seconds to regard the small Asgard in front of him. "Thor," he said, "long time no see."

"It is good to see you alive, O'Neill, however you do not look well."

"Well, no," Jack agreed, "there is that. We need your help Thor."

The equivalent of a sigh whispered softly between the air between then, and Jack was surprised to discern an expression of regret on the Asgard's face which was normally expressionless. "A Goa'uld has launched an attack on Earth."

"You know about it?"

"Yes."

"And you haven't done anything about it?"

"We cannot, O'Neill."

"Why not?" Jack demanded. "They've let a bug loose, Thor, a bug that kills everything it stings and turns it into more bugs. They are going to wipe us out, and you can't do anything about it?"

"No."

Jack clenched his jaw, anger bubbling hot and dark inside, like burning syrup. It boiled up and out, and something inside him snapped. "What the hell happened to the protected planet's treaty, Thor?"

"That has been a bluff for a long time, O'Neill."

"A bluff? Was it a bluff when Carter came up with a dumb idea to save your grey ass, Thor? Was it a bluff when we went undercover to find your technology thieves? It wasn't a bluff when I as lying in that small room with a fucking snake in my head!"

"I am sorry, O'Neill, there was nothing we could do then without risking the entire Asgard race. We do not have the ability to defeat the Goa'uld."

"Come on, Thor, you're just going to leave us like this?"

"There is nothing we can do, O'Neill. Our own fleet is dangerously small and in the process of being destroyed by the Replicators. There is nothing we can do – the Goa'uld would easily destroy us if we were to interfere."

"Isn't there anyone who can help us?" Jack demanded angrily.

"Of a race with superior technology and a willingness to help, I do not know. If I knew of such a race, O'Neill, then the Asgard would have employed their assistance long ago."

Jack dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing at his eyes. "What about getting them out?"

"Who?"

"Our people," he said simply. "Can't you pick them up and we just all transfer to another planet?"

"That would not be possible, O'Neill. Your population is too large, and the Goa'uld would detect us as soon as we enter the atmosphere."

"Is there anything you can do to help?"

"I am afraid not," Thor said. "I am sorry, O'Neill. I did not wish for relations between us to end this way."

"End this way?"

"Your world will be controlled by the Goa'uld, and your people destroyed. There will not be relations between the Asgard and the people of Earth when that happens."

Jack licked his lips. "So that's it then. Everything that's happened, and it's just over. Like that."

Thor bowed his head silently, not answering. Jack sighed heavily.

"What about the Tok'ra? Don't they have something that can help us?"

"The Tok'ra are a dying race, O'Neill. They are trying to save their last – I do not believe they would have the technology, ability or desire to help Earth."

"We really fucked things up, didn't we?"

"Diplomacy was not a strong point of Stargate Command after General Hammond passed on."

"Could we at least try the Tok'ra?" Jack asked tiredly, feeling old and frail as he sank to the ground where he stood, staring at the Asgard.

"We can," Thor agreed.

A flash of light flooded the room, and when it faded Bek, Svetlana, Maybourne and Geirwyn were all on board the ship as well.

"Thor," Geirwyn greeted, smiling, "it has been a long time."

"Regrettably," Thor agreed, "however, not deliberate."

"We did not think so," Geirwyn said amicably.

"Tell your people I will return to make sure you are well soon. I must take O'Neill and his companions to the Tok'ra, and then I will return."

Geirwyn nodded, turning to Jack. "It was good to see you again, Colonel. I hope all goes well with your world, and that we see you again."

Jack smiled. "I hope so too, Geirwyn. Thank you."

She nodded, and in a flash of light she disappeared.

"What's happening, Jack?" Maybourne asked, his voice tight with strain of his injuries.

"The Asgard can't help us. Thor's taking us to the Tok'ra to see if there's anything they can do."

"The journey will not take long. I will put you and Colonel Maybourne in the stasis pods until we reach the Tok'ra homeworld – your injuries require treatment."

"Put Maybourne in, I'm fine," Jack said.

"O'Neill, your injuries-"

"No, Thor, I'm fine. I don't need to be put in that… that… thing. I'm just fine."

The Asgard considered him for several seconds, and then nodded. "Very well. If you change your mind O'Neill-"

It was small and dark and too much like a sarcophagus.

"I won't."

---
Nuclear Facility

There were calluses on her thumb and index finger; at night her hands would cramp and spasm and she'd lay awake, staring at the dark and imagining the stars in the sky while the pain flared. In the morning her hands would be stiff, aching, and without movement.

They'd taken her off the sewing duty and put her onto the laundry & kitchen rotations the fourth time she put the needle through her finger. The blood had been bright and red against white linen – the only colour other than the bright orange of her uniform.

Sam woke with a start, blinking up at a cold grey ceiling and stifling a groan of pain. Her hands were cold and stiff, but the ache was only a dim memory. Her head, however, was pounding, and each breath informed her she either had broken ribs, or severely bruised ribs.

"Sam?" a gentle voice asked.

She twisted her head to the side quickly – too quickly – and colourful streaks of pain painted dizzying flowers across her vision and she tasted her pain in the back of her throat.

"Easy, Sam, easy," Janet whispered, her hands gentle on Sam's forehead.

"Janet?" Sam asked, confused, lost. "What are you doing here?"

"Where?" Janet asked carefully.

She struggled to form the word, but it refused to let her lips create it. Prison, she thought. Prison. I'm in prison, Janet.

"Sam, you're not in prison," Janet said gently. "You're at a nuclear facility near the SGC. Do you remember?"

She remembered Samuels and the stars through the foggy window of a car with leather seats that stuck to her too-hot back. She remembered warm sunshine and the scent of grass and the feel of hands on her back.

"He's alive," she whispered.

"Yes," Janet said. "He is. Do you remember what happened, Sam?"

"We were flying," Sam whispered, closing her eyes as the images, bright and painfully real flickered through her memory. "I… There were death gliders. I don't remember what happened."

"It's okay, Sam. You had to jump, and you hit a branch or two on the way down."

"No wonder I hurt," she said, trying to smile over the waves of pain lapping at her.

"It's okay," Janet said again. "I've got some morphine, but you need to rest now. Can you do that?"

Sam wanted to nod, but her head was too sore and the grey of the room was slowly fading into black again.

---
Elcor – Resistence homeworld

The air was cool and smelt like glass. The flickering blue-green crystal walls cast an odd hue to his hand when he held it in front of him, and he stared at it for several seconds before letting his attention refocus on Jack and the Tok'ra in front of him.

"You expect a lot from the Tok'ra, O'Neill, yet you and your people have given us very little in return."

"I know," Jack agreed, nodding his head in a sharp acquiescence, "but this doesn't just affect us, Garshaw. This could affect you too. The Goa'uld infiltration in the SGC means that several of your operatives could be compromised by knowledge these Goa'uld might have gained."

"I do not believe so, O'Neill. The Tau'ri knew of only a few operatives and their places within Goa'uld ranks. Most of those have either been exposed, or their missions completed. Very few Tok'ra are where they were three years ago, and in three years we have had very little to do with the SGC."

"Look, this Goa'uld – Thor said he was called Ma'lok – is so far down the ranks of Goa'uld he's little more than a servant himself, right? If this Goa'uld gets earth, he'll have an entire population to enslave as a Jaffa army. Six billion people, Garshaw. Okay, a few less by the time he stops the bugs – if he even knows how – but still, a few billion is a huge number."

"It makes no difference to us, Colonel O'Neill," another Tok'ra said. "What does it matter if one Goa'uld rises? We have operatives where they are needed. We have not got the resources to assist you."

"Where's Selmak?" Jack asked, ignoring the last statement.

"Selmak is coming," Garshaw said dismissively. "Even if we brought this before the High Council, Colonel, none of them would agree to help. We cannot endanger our people for a lost cause."

"It's not a lost cause!" Jack snapped loudly, the effect of the words undermined by a coughing spasm which left him clutching at the crystal walls for support. Maybourne eyed the man's pallor – he was almost grey under the strange glow of the crystals. A frisson of concern worked its way down Maybourne's spine, and he looked at Jack critically, wondering why Jack had refused the Asgard's stasis pod – it had worked wonders on his own injuries and health.

"Colonel, I understand you are concerned about your planet, but there is nothing we can do," Garshaw said.

"There is something, Garshaw," someone disagreed from behind them. "For a single Goa'uld with a small army relying on the effects of this creature it unleashed on the Tau'ri, it would work very effectively."

Garshaw's lips tightened as Selmak stepped into view, his face carefully masked.

"Jacob," Jack greeted, watching the older man.

"Jack."

"How are you doing, sir?" Jack asked politely.

"Fine. Haven't been better actually. You don't look too good, Jack," Jacob said bluntly. "What the hell have you been up to?"

"Oh, this and that," Jack said airily, waving his hand around.

Jacob frowned. "Jack, you were blended."

"Very observant," Jack drawled. "Just like your daughter."

Jacob Carter stiffened visibly, sharp lines of anger not faded by time appeared around his eyes as he stared at Jack.

"She's alive, Jacob, but unless you help us I don't know how much longer for."

"She's alive?" Jacob echoed dumbly.

"Yes. Big long conspiracy story we can tell you all about over coffee, but right now we need help."

Jacob Carter's eyes glowed, and Selmak spoke. "The Goa'uld Ma'lok."

"Yes. He's got a ready made army on Earth – a few weeks to Jaffa them up and bang, he's a ready contender in intergalactic politics."

"Colonel, do you know how long it would take a Goa'uld queen to spawn enough Jaffa for the number of people you are considering? Added to that, for her to create Jaffa she must see each Tau'ri herself to create the pouch. I find it highly unlikely that Ma'lok will use the people of Earth as Jaffa. Slaves, yes, but not Jaffa," Garshaw said.

"And that's assuming Ma'lok even has a queen," Selmak added.

"There is a queen," Jack said quietly. "They plan on using humans as Jaffa, Jacob. Trust me on this." I was there. I see it every time I close my eyes.

Selmak nodded.

"Look, I hate to interrupt our little discussion of Goa'uld plans, but wouldn't it be a good idea to stop the Goa'uld, regardless of what their plans are?" Maybourne interrupted impatiently.

Again, Selmak nodded, but when he spoke it was Jacob. "There might be something we can do to help, but it might not work. Jack, bring your team and we'll go for a walk on the surface. This way."

The abrupt change in conversation confused Maybourne for barely a second before he realised what Jacob was doing.

"Walls have ears?" Jack asked as they stepped into a large room.

Around them the ring transporters hummed into life, and Maybourne found himself standing in between large trees with drooping branches hanging down onto the ground which appeared suspiciously wet and soggy underfoot.

"Well, this certainly is a change from the usual sandy planets," Jack commented, and Maybourne was fairly certain Jack was about as impressed with the muddiness as he was with the sandiness.

Jacob chuckled, but the sound died quickly as their footsteps squelched in a seemingly random direction over the sucking ground. "Tell me about her, Jack," the Tok'ra implored.

"They put her in prison, Jacob, slid her between the gaps and just put her in. She hasn't said much about it, but I don't think she saw the sun much."

"But she's ok."

Maybourne raised his eyebrows, and watched as Jack looked nervously at Jacob. "There was an accident, Jacob."

"What do you mean?"

"We had to get to Russia to get a gate we could use," Jack explained. "Carter – Sam – was part of a decoy. She had to 'chute out of a plane, and I think she hit some branches on the way down."

"Is she ok?"

"She wasn't conscious when I left, but she was alive," Jack said quietly.

Jacob was quiet for a few minutes.

"Not many Tok'ra know about this, but a few years ago we developed something."

"What?" Jack asked.

"A biological agent which, when released, kills any Goa'uld symbiote whether in a host or a Jaffa, without any effect on humans."

Maybourne faltered in his steps, Jack doing the same.

"Jacob, are you telling me you've found a way to wipe out the Goa'uld?" he hissed.

"We have," Jacob agreed. "But we can't use it."

"Why not?"

"Jack, this doesn't only kill the Goa'uld, it effectively kills the Jaffa too."

"But aren't the Jaffa bad?" Bek asked, speaking up for the first time since leaving Earth – Maybourne had almost forgotten about both her and Svetlana.

"No," Jacob said. "The Jaffa are enslaved by the Goa'uld. Jack, who is this?"

"This is Bek, Jacob. She's a friend of Cassie's."

Jacob raised his eyebrows, but refrained from commenting.

"She's a tech head, Jacob, and when Carter was injured, Bek took her place because we needed her technical knowledge to get the Stargate going."

"Where are we going?" Bek asked, having found her voice again, now fully intending on using it.

"To see what we can do about helping to save Earth," Jacob replied cryptically. "Jack, these creatures that Ma'lok released on Earth, they will still be a problem even if you can eliminate Ma'lok and remove the Goa'uld threat."

"I'm aware of that, Jacob, but if we can get the Goa'uld out of the way we can look realistically at relocating."

"The entire population of earth?"

"No," Jack said, "what's left on earth. These bugs, Jacob, they're… we saw what they did to the planet we found them on, and I read the projections done when Teal'c was infected. It's slower now, granted, but that doesn't mean it's not going to happen."

"What about a vaccine?"

Jack shrugged. "For humans, sure, it'll help if we get stung, but even if Fraiser and Harlowe find the vaccine soon it's not going to mean anything. The bugs aren't picky – they sting everything that moves. Soon there won't be anything left, and I don't know that the planet can survive that."

"Have you found any weaknesses in the bugs yet?"

"EMPs wipe them out," Maybourne offered, "but that effectively wipes us out too, and it doesn't guarantee that every bug is taken out. And they're less active at night than in the day –Dr. Harlowe was speculating on cooler weather slowing them down."

"Shielding with the EMP?"

"Technology won't work in an EMP shield," Bek said dismissively. "And I don't see how such a huge field could be maintained constantly."

Around them, the planet rustled and moved; wildlife invisible in the undergrowth but still audible. It was wet and damp, and Maybourne knew that a planet like this would drive him insane, offering nowhere dry to stop and relax.

"Where did you say we were going, Jacob?" Jack asked after a while.

"I didn't," Jacob said, "but we're almost there."

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