This is turning out to be much harder to write than I thought – I get the pictures and the dialogue in my head, but I'm finding it quite difficult to put down on paper, so forgive me if it takes me a while to post the next chapter. And forgive me if it's (still) too talky.

I didn't get any reviews for the first chapter – please tell me what I am doing wrong so that I can make it better.

Chapter 2

Jack blinked, "We must do what?"

"Kill me."

"Now, see, that's what I'm having a problem with," Jack stood up, "We don't must do anything." Sam and Jonas looked at him, eyebrows raised, "You know what I mean."

Serel smiled, "Please, Colonel; I am desperate. The only way to save my people is for you to kill me."

Jack turned to face her, his mouth open to reply, but Sam stepped in with a restraining hand on her CO's arm. "If you could tell us more about yourself, about what's happening here, I'm sure we'd be able to find another way to help your people. You have to understand, we can't just … well, we can't."

Serel sighed. She stood and left the room, returning after a few moments. "I have asked Bacen to fetch us some refreshments." She sat again, obviously nervous; her fingers played with the end of her belt. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to settle herself and recover her poise. "My people are dying of stagnation and it is because of me and all of us that live in the bentra."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Jonas's voice was low, encouraging. Sam smiled to herself; he was an easy person to trust with his open face and ready smile. Serel seemed to sense Jonas was the person who would best understand and turned slightly towards him.

"My people have lived in the same way for generations. At the age of five, we are brought to the Prophet and told what our lives will be; what we will become, who we will marry and when we will die."

"I don't understand," Jonas said, "If you want to stop what you call stagnation, why don't you just let them make their own decisions?"

Serel let out a little laugh; it was a gentle, rippling sound that seemed to surprise her, "I am sorry; I didn't explain properly. I am not a dictator who controls my people's every move; I am the Prophet." She looked around at the uncomprehending stares, "I can look at a person and see what will happen to them for the rest of their lives."

"But that's impossible," Sam interrupted.

"Yes, it should be."

Jack shook his head, "I don't buy it. People just go along with this? What if they don't like what you tell them?"

"In the beginning, I think the Prophet was only meant to warn of natural disasters and perhaps advise the Gawen council, but I believe over the centuries, the people became more and more reliant on the prophecies and began to want assurances about their everyday lives. Eventually, it led to this system; a system where no-one truly lives." There were tears on Serel's cheeks and her fingers were once again playing with her belt, but her gaze was steady as she met their eyes in turn with a strange, pleading light in her own. She turned away, wiping her face, as the child they had seen earlier entered, precariously balancing a large tray weighed down with pottery bowls. Setting the tray down on the table, she took a smaller bowl, dipped it in the centre basin and presented it to Jack with a solemn curtsey. She repeated the action until everyone had a drink, then turned to leave.

"Thank you, Bacen." Serel watched sadly as the little girl exited with another carefully practised curtsey. "Bacen has just been brought to us; I saw her powers as soon as she was born. It broke my heart to tell her parents that she was to be one of the Chosen. They were so proud."

Sam leaned forward, "Powers?"

"It was the same for me. From a very early age, I could read what people were thinking. After I was brought here, the Prophet trained me to recognise the patterns in their minds and in the world around me. When I reached eighteen summers, the Prophet called us all into this room and told us that she had made her choice; I was to be next when she was gone. She died two days later." Serel rose again and walked slowly to the doorway, "I apologise, Colonel; I must ask you to follow me."

Jack rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Taking a torch from its place on the wall, Serel led them out of the room and into a narrow passageway. Jonas trailed behind, examining the pictographs and snatches of writing on the walls by the light of his flashlight.

"Colonel, I think these people were Celts," completely preoccupied with his investigations, Jonas hardly noticed that the others had emerged into a chamber ahead of him, "These pictures seem to indicate…"

"Jonas!"

Glancing around and realising he was alone in the passageway, Jonas rushed after the others, "I'm sorry, Colonel, I was just saying…" he trailed off and stared around him. The room was more spartan than the living quarters; it contained only a small round dais at the centre and what appeared to be an altar holding piles of loosely bound papers. The walls were covered in close-set writing.

Serel turned to face the team, "I was brought to this room and told to stand at the centre. There was a light. And pain. When it faded, I could see everything. All the patterns made sense; I knew what would happen to everyone for the rest of their lives. It was horrifying." She stepped towards Jack, holding his eyes with her gentle, sad gaze, "I had hoped that outsiders would be the answer. You do not fit into the patterns; you are unexpected variables."

"But we're not murderers," Jack told her gently.

Serel studied him for a moment, her head on one side. "I know. You are a good man, Colonel. I am sorry; I was desperate. I know that killing me would make no difference; it was cowardly of me to ask." Serel paused, looking around at SG-1. "But you are here and I cannot see what will happen to you. Perhaps that is enough."

Returning to the main chamber, they settled on the couches once again.

"I think we can help you," Sam told Serel.

Jack raised his eyebrows, "We can?"

"Yes sir. We've had experience with this kind of thing before." Sam turned back to Serel, "If you would let us look at the writings in the chamber, we may be able to figure out what has happened to you.

Next to Jack, Teal'c stiffened, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Teal'c? Disturbance in the force there, buddy?"

"I am unsure, O'Neill. I believe I can hear voices raised in the vicinity of the bentra."

Seemingly unmoved, Serel took up her bowl and sipped, "Yes; the insurgents are attempting to attack us." As one, the team were on their feet, making for the door, "Please, do not alarm yourselves; I informed Briga some days ago and he has been planning the defence ever since. We are quite safe here."

Jack spun around, "You're just going to leave your people out there to die for you?"

"Two will receive minor injuries and one of the insurgents will die," Serel looked puzzled, "There is nothing that can be done to change this. What else would you have me do?"

"You've bought into this system the same as everyone else!" Jack turned and headed out, Sam and Teal'c hot on his heels. Serel sat frozen and shocked; she looked as if Jack had slapped her. Jonas smiled and shrugged apologetically and chased after his team.

Jack was already at the entrance to the bentra, scanning the scene in front of him, "Non-lethal force only," he threw over his shoulder, dropping into a crouch and taking out his zat. Sam and Teal'c followed, spreading out to covering positions behind him. Jonas joined them moments later, staying low. The insurgents were about a hundred yards in front of them, using a natural dip in the ground as a bolt-hole. They were armed with crossbows. The townspeople defending were spread out around the perimeter of the bentra, taking advantage of the low fencing as cover. They too had crossbows, but their pattern of fire was more organised, ensuring a continuous volley of arrows, despite their weapons' reload time. The insurgents were pinned down. As Jack signalled to his team to take up flanking positions, one of the attackers made a break towards them, firing his bow wildly. Unable to reload on the run, he tossed the weapon aside and drew a long dagger, zigzagging as he came towards them. The man next to Jack tracked the insurgent's moves, a finger tightening on the trigger mechanism.

"Hold your fire!" Jack yelled, aiming his zat and taking the runner down. The figure writhed on the ground for a moment, then went still. The insurgents took advantage of the momentary distraction to reload, rose as one and fired on the defenders. There was a yell of pain from Jack's right and he saw Sam zat an attacker and drop hard to the ground. Jonas and Teal'c fired off a couple of volleys, taking down two more of the insurgents, before the rest broke cover and ran for the tree line.

Briga rose to his feet. "Let them go!" he ordered. Teal'c and some of the townspeople made towards the unconscious insurgents.

"Carter!" Jack was at her side within moments. She was sitting with her back against the wicker fence, trying to smile reassuringly at him. Her pants were torn just above the left knee.

"Just a flesh wound, sir. Lucky shot got through the fence and caught me." She pulled out a field dressing. Jack leaned down and gently pulled back the torn material, examining the gash on her leg; it wasn't deep, but it was bleeding freely. He took the dressing from her and bound the wound carefully.

"OK, let's get you back to the Gate."

Sam held out her hand and Jack pulled her to her feet, "No need, sir. See, I'm fine." She leaned gingerly on her injured leg, a steadying hand on Jack's shoulder. He slipped an arm around her waist.

"Jonas, take Carter back to SGC and get her leg cleaned up."

"Sir, Jonas needs to stay here and translate the writings in that cave. And I need to find out what kind of equipment was used to alter Serel's mental abilities." Sam tried to pull away and pick up her pack, but Jack didn't give up his hold on her.

"Major, I am ordering you to return to base."

"There is no need for Major Carter to leave, Colonel" Serel's voice made them all turn suddenly, Sam wincing as she leaned too much on her left leg. "Not all of the women in the bentra share the same powers. This is Era," she gestured to the woman next to her, "She is a healer, as was her mother."

Era stepped forward, curtseying, "Please, come with me."

Still supporting Sam, Jack followed the young woman to one of the huts. Helping his 2IC to a couch, he patted her shoulder and went back outside. Era removed the field dressing and looked at the wound, gently touching the surrounding flesh.

"It is not too bad, but I am certain it is painful."

"I've had worse," Sam smiled.

"I'm sure you have, Major." Era dipped a cloth in a large ewer and began cleaning the gash. Sam leaned back on the couch and let her work; the pain was already starting to fade.

"Serel said that your mother was a healer?" The young woman nodded. "But I got the impression the Chosen spend their lives isolated here; how did your mother meet your father?"

Era smiled, "When the Prophet dies, we will all return to Pridan to live out our lives as she predicts. One of us will stay as the next Prophet and she will begin again with the Chosen she finds and trains. It ensures that the gifts are passed on through the generations."

"But, surely…"

"Yes, the Prophet already knows who she will choose as her successor, but she will not tell us our fates until we leave. My future husband, however, knows he is to marry me and is waiting." Era looked wistful, "I hope he is a good man." She finished cleaning the wound. Placing a warm hand on Sam's leg and another on her forehead, Era closed her eyes, breathing deeply and steadily. After a few minutes, she removed her hands and stood, fetching a fresh bandage from a shelf. Sam leaned forward and examined her leg; the wound looked as if it had been healing for a few days.

"That's incredible; how did you do that?"

"As Serel said, we do not all have the same gifts. I am able to take away pain from the mind and I can start the healing process for some wounds." Era finished binding Sam's leg and stood, offering a hand.

"How?"

Era shrugged, "I do not know; I concentrate and imagine the process starting. Then the flesh starts to knit together and I leave the body to do the rest."

Sam tested her weight on the leg, "Thank you."

Outside the hut, Jack and Jonas were waiting for her. Her CO raised his eyebrows, "Carter?"

"Sir, there's more going on here than we thought. Era healed my leg just by touching it; I think she may have some kind of psychokinetic abilities that allow her to repair cells and maybe encourage new growth."

"So you're OK?" Jonas bent slightly to look at the dressing. Sam swatted him away, "I'm fine."

Jack shook his head slightly, dismissing the temporary distraction, "Teal'c and Briga have taken the insurgents back to the town. You two stay here and see if you can't work out the technology; I'm gonna go and have a chat with the prisoners."

"Yes sir."

Serel appeared at Jack's shoulder, "I would like to come with you, Colonel. I need to pay my respects."

"No-one died, Serel," Jonas showed her his zat. "You see, these weapons cause pain, but they don't have to be used to kill."

The colour drained from Serel's face, "You changed it…" Whirling around, she started to run towards the town. Jonas went after her. Catching her arm, he managed to stop her and turn her to face him. Tears were streaming down her face; she had lost all of her poise and began to bat wildly at Jonas's hand, "Let go of me! I have to go to him!"

"Who?"

"He should have died; he should be dead. I have to see him!" Serel stopped trying to escape, her legs buckling suddenly. Jonas stepped forward, catching her and lowering her gently to sit on the ground. He dipped his head so that he could look her in the eye, "Serel, who should have died?"

"Ganad; my brother."

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Thanks to my lovely friend, Lara, who gave me the idea for the insurgency – it really padded out the plot and gave me the chance to find an interesting relationship that will hopefully develop in the chapters to come. If I write it well enough.