AN: 10/26: First off, my eternal apologies for leaving you all hanging for… what has it been, three weeks now? A combination of schoolwork, other projects, and sheer lack of muse managed to strike, so I had neither the time nor inclination to write a whole heck of a lot. However, determination and the fact that I know at least one of my readers is probably about ready to kill me by now managed to call my muse back- even if it is at the expense of an essay due tomorrow… Oh well, I'll write it in the morning. The good news is that I have nearly all of the next chapter written as a result of this spree, so next week's update should be on schedule.

Here's wishing the NHNC project a happy second birthday! I started writing this series exactly two years ago, and boy, it's been quite a ride. I scare myself every time I go back and read the early chapters of Eight-Card Deck, it's changed so much…

*raises glass* Thank you to all who have been with me on this journey! I love you all!

And at long last, this week's update.

Chapter Thirty: Simple Mathematics

The calculation of force is a simple one. Force equals mass times acceleration. Daria stood five feet, nine inches and weighed approximately one hundred and sixty pounds. In a full-out lunge, she could reach speeds of twenty-five miles per hour. Impact with a jackal-beast, then, generated four thousand pounds of force.

Even something the size of Edward Hyde could not entirely ignore the equivalent of two tons slamming into its back.

The Tau'ka's face was flushed with excitement as she attacked the nearest canine monster. This was a real fight, something she could recklessly throw herself at and just do damage to. She took a fierce delight in the way bone and muscle and blade moved effortlessly at her slightest mental command, and her blood sang with the challenge of meeting an opponent who probably overmatched her- or would if it had time to get over the surprise of having a shrieking, well-armed fighter ram it from behind. Her blade, alas, prevented it from having that time.

Would Hyde ever know the true joy of combat? she found herself wondering. He certainly gloried in it- he had just taunted a second one of the beasts into arm's reach and was now gleefully pulling it to pieces- but he didn't love it the same way she did. Actually, if any of their group loved a good fight for the sheer thrill of pitting themselves against an enemy, it was Nemo. He was making quite a mess himself as the three of them, followed at a distance by a stony-faced Sherlock Holmes- battled their way through the well-guarded main ritual hall.

The main hall was a long, cavernous room in the heart of the temple complex. The altar was situated on one of the long walls, in the very center. A quintet of figures stood there- two jackal-beasts, a man with a thin, scraggly tuft of a goatee, a woman wearing a pleated white linen skirt that left her bejeweled navel bare and a white top mostly covered by her heavy ceremonial collarpiece, and… Sawyer.

Or rather, Kheti, as he was currently shouting orders in resonant Goa'uld to the man with the goatee as the woman looked on, an imperiously haughty expression on her face. The man was gesturing frantically in response to Kheti's orders, and it seemed the Jackals were moving at his command…

Daria was just about to turn to shout for Holmes to shoot the man, but was interrupted by a side door slamming open. A flock of bats boiled out, squeaking their thin piping little cries over the leathery creaking of their flapping wings. They swarmed towards the nearest knot of guards, a larger whirling form just visible among the cloud.

Behind Mina and her fluttering escort came Jason Fisher, blue-green energies whirling about his hands. The man with the scraggly beard shrieked something, and vivid gold light shot towards the Water Master. He ducked, shouted, and a jet of water burst from under his enemy's feet, dousing all five figures on the dais.

It was the third figure that made Daria nearly miss blocking the swipe of a heavy claw. She hissed as she dodged the close shave and ducked away from her opponent, trying to verify what she thought her eyes had told her.

"Quatermain!" she shouted over the din of howling jackal-beasts, panicking cultists, and the various other scuffles. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you again!"

"This is more excitement than I'd planned for the day!" the hunter shouted back, dodging a staff-swinging cultist with more agility than most his age could claim. "Eyes open, girl!"

Amused at being addressed in such a manner by a human, Daria reversed her grip on her sword and stabbed backwards, feeling the sharp blade jolt in her hands as it pierced flesh and bone. She kicked out behind her, clearing the body from her weapon in time to bring it up in front of her.

Her next attacker never made it into striking range, hindered as it was by a gigantic fist smashing into him from the side. Bones crunched- and not in the fist.

"Thank you, Edward," she said.

"Don't mention it," he replied, grinning at her. "Any- argh!"

Hyde twisted away from the absurdly brave man who had just plunged a long, wicked-looking knife into his back. The weapon was torn from the man's hand with the motion and he stumbled back. "You little…"

Injured, Hyde wasn't quite fast enough to snatch his attacker up. But Daria, furious at the sneak attack on her mate, ducked under his arm and tackled the other man. They went to the floor in a tangled heap, each cursing and scrambling to get a weapon to bear on the other.

OSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSC

Nemo was busy making himself a general menace. Armed with a blood-covered saber and whatever he could pick up, he was easily fending off five of Nebthet's fanatics as he tried to force a path to the dais. Bone crunched as he slammed a fist into a man's face. His victim dropped immediately, bone splinters from his nose driven right into his brain.

That made the others surrounding him a little more wary. One cultist, wearing only the standard white kilt over his tattooed skin, backed away from the blue-and-brown Indian deathtrap and right into a swung incenser that trailed fragrant smoke as it flew into the man's head.

"Night night," Skinner quipped.

Nemo pushed through the gap and splashed onto the dais, bringing his saber to bear on the woman who had to be the mysterious Nebthet.

"You would do well to surrender," he told the Goa'uld firmly.

Next to her, the man with the skimpy goatee collapsed, twitching as a trickle of blood ran from his nose. The magical battle had been too much for his body to handle, until vessels in his brain and sinuses had burst, killing him. The jackal-beasts standing guard over the cult leaders had long since joined the main battle, and were now having to deal with both Mina and what appeared to be a sea serpent of some kind- Jason's latest contribution.

Nebthet- her host, at least- was a dark-skinned, dark-eyed beauty whose good looks were rather spoiled by the cruel smirk that crossed her face as she raised her hand. Strapped to her palm and forearm was an odd metal gauntlet of some kind, which supported a glowing red jewel in the middle of her hand. The col'kenthe pulsed with light, and a wave of invisible force slammed into Nemo, knocking him off the dais and into the side of a oblong stone box. Breath wooshed out of the captain's lungs- apparently, sending him flying into things was a favorite way of Trying To Get Rid of Nemo- the Dante-beast back in Mongolia had done the same thing.

Focusing on only his breathing, rather than the pain in his shoulder and back, he jackknifed to his feet, saber still in his hand. The repulsive force generated by the gauntlet had not been among the qualities Daria had warned them about when it came to the weapon. Another tactic would be needed…

Two bullets zinged over the captain's shoulder, striking Nebthet in the shoulder and belly. She cried out in pain and stumbled back into a column of water that writhed like a serpent as they ripped into her flesh. Nemo saw Holmes reloading swiftly as the watery snake wrapped liquid coils around the Goa'uld. It squeezed tightly, its victim thrashing in its embrace.

The captain lunged forward, sword outstretched, and plunged the tip of his weapon into the body of Nebthet's host. He couldn't hear her scream, trapped as she was in Fisher's creation, but he did feel her convulse once and go still.

The water-serpent uncoiled from Nebthet and she collapsed, her body limp as a rag doll. For good measure, Nemo stepped forward and slashed at the back of her neck, where the symbiote itself lived. His attack severed the alien's body- there would be no quiet taking of a new host for her.

OSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSCOSC

The fighting was starting to die down as the League dealt with the jackal-beasts and more foolhardy of the cultists. Others had decided to throw down their arms and run, especially at the sight of seeing their goddess so handily dispatched by three people at once. A significant few fought on, and three of these swarmed Nemo as he flicked Nebthet's blood off his sword. Quatermain was right in with them, slashing fiercely around him with his Bowie knife. The Indian man gave him a quick nod as he moved to deal with his new attackers.

Daria, pinned beneath the man who had stabbed Hyde, growled and shifted her free hand to that of a gryphon, ignoring the stab of pain up her arm that accompanied the incomplete transformation. Using fingers that were now wicked claws, she slashed at her assailant's face. He screamed and rolled off her, hands desperately trying to hold his ruined face together.

She slashed again, this time tearing his throat open, then let her hand return to its own shape and flipped to her feet.

"Edward!" she cried, hurrying over to him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he grunted, "No thanks to that cheeky little bugger."

"Dead cheeky little bugger," she corrected, glaring at Hyde as he refused to let her look at the damage the knife had done to him. It was bleeding freely, but she didn't think it was immediately life-threatening. Not that she thought he would take steps to keep from aggravating it anyway…

I think it's alright, Jekyll told her reassuringly, though his mental 'voice' was tight with pain. We've had worse- it won't be so serious when he turns back…

That brought her some measure of relief- seeing Hyde hurt like that made her own skin crawl in an unpleasant reminder that all of them here were only mortal, and could be hurt or killed. It wasn't her own skin that she was worried so much about. It was the others…

"If you're sure," she replied, turning suddenly to look towards the drama happening on the dais…

OSCOSCOSOCOSCOSCOSC

Kheti had been mostly quiet throughout the entire battle- though a trained observer who was familiar with the Goa'uld would have been able to deduce why that was. If one looked carefully at the face of his host, they would have seen it twitching slightly, as human and parasite fought one another for control.

Quatermain saw the slight spasms as he approached. Not sure what it meant, he slowed. Kheti did not seem to realize he was even there, so distracted was he by Sawyer's tooth and nail fighting.

"Sawyer!" the hunter called, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of what scuffling remained.

Blue eyes finally turned an imperious gaze on Quatermain, the sclera seeming to glow slightly. "Sawyer is no more," Kheti said coldly, his voice echoing as if it came from the bottom of a deep well. "Only I remain."

Quatermain didn't want to believe it- he had hoped that the others were somehow wrong. Sawyer had almost been like a son to him… But Sawyer wouldn't look at him with ice in his eyes.

Sawyer wouldn't have turned the col'kenthe device on him. That was all Kheti.

The old hunter was knocked off his feet, caught off-guard by the sudden attack. He fought to get air back into his lungs, feeling as if a water buffalo had kicked him solidly in the chest. But Kheti was already on him, the jewel in the center of the col'kenthe glowing an ominous red.

Kheti smirked. "He is powerless to stop me, as are you, old man. I shall enjoy listening to him scream as you die…"

At least, Quatermain thought the last word would have been 'die', because at that moment Kheti screamed and reared back, Mina's dagger plunged into the back of his ribcage.

AN 2: To my Rabid Sawyer Fans: Do not kill me until you have read the next chapter. If you are still dissatisfied by next week, then by all means, take me off your favorites list. *glowers* You know who you are.

AN 3: 10/27 Yes, I got my essay done. See? I can write and do my homework!