Chapter 66 - Impulse

Jolinar felt that they had to sleep, but every dream was too close to reality, and every time they woke the worries came back. The plan, the plan was grand and simple and lived in abstractions. The moment they stepped foot on Dorieth, the moment the Jaffa and Doriens were faces that weren't predictable, the moment Quetesh was there in person and not just a shadowy figure—then the little moments counted immediately, and the plan had to change with each one.

The sun barely scraped over the horizon when Quetesh's first order went out, through her Jaffa. Shadows still shrouded most of the settlement, and when Sam woke, Jolinar was already up and hidden more. The Doriens rose swiftly and went to work, making sure no one could suspect them.

In the cool dimness of morning, Jolinar slipped out of the building and up the nearest hill to a small tree cluster. The Jaffa gave more orders, and faster, this morning, and Jolinar glanced over to the commander's house as if she might see an answer written on the walls.

~I would think she wanted to wait until something better was built for her to stay in.~

Jolinar frowned, analyzing the Jaffa's movement.

Traffic slowed instantly towards the temple ruins, but the distribution evaded Jolinar at first. From this spot, she could only just barely see across to where the road dipped down to the fields. Many Doriens were being directed down there, but even more seemed to be moving around the settlement itself, their movement almost like scrambling from Jolinar's point of view.

~And what about the quarries, or the lumber?~ Sam asked.

Jolinar glanced up, and saw limited movement. The sun was rising slowly, and it finally glinted into Jolinar's eye. She squinted, looking back at the main settlement and chewing the inside of her lip. *She consolidated the slave presence.*

~Is that why she's here? It would make barely any sense.~

The question was rhetorical, and that was good, given the limited information. The day started to pass, and information trickled back to Sam and Jolinar. Nayron reported that Quetesh had not come with any escorts other than Jaffa and a lotar. Only moments later, Vishepa passed along that while Quetesh's Jaffa were impassive, the ones of Dorieth now looked worried.

Though that could hardly add to their worry, Sam and Jolinar were nevertheless glad when the hints turned into clearer facts. An hour before midday, there was a sudden new order. Drego passed where Jolinar stationed herself, and the quick message was that Quetesh wanted a tour of Dorieth.

Jolinar crept downhill, behind the nearest building, and then into the empty housing where she and the Dorien leaders had been meeting. She changed her outer robe for a more voluminous one, pulling back her hair tightly out of the way. A thin scrap of pale fabric wrapped around her head and snaked around her neck, changing just enough of her silhouette. As Doriens scurried back to stand ready for Quetesh's appearance, Jolinar breathed out. *Samantha?*

Sam didn't understand at first, as the control was proffered, then realized that Jolinar's inner control was barely sound enough to think of Quetesh. Were she to try and control their body too, she might snap with the strain. Just that thought reminded Sam that just because she'd successfully repressed so much didn't mean that she'd forgotten.

The sun shone down unimpeded from a blue sky. Sam's brow furrowed, and she could feel the slight warping of the scar on her face as she did so. Her head ducked slightly as she stood in the back of those slaves who lined the roads.

This house was on a slight hill, so they could all see Quetesh as she left her temporary dwelling. Then she moved swiftly, surrounded by personal Jaffa and tailed closely by a brilliantly clad lotar. Not even pausing, she swung her head from the left to the right and back again, hair swinging. She drew closer to Sam and Jolinar, and they noticed the bright light of her eyes as she did so, absorbing what she saw with more than a little emotion. But she barely passed by them at all, turning sharply down the road towards the quarries.

"Do not return to work!" snapped one of the Jaffa, close enough for Sam and Jolinar to hear clearly. "Hold yourself!"

Sam slid closer into the group, finding Creot. "I assume you don't know much?"

Creot barely turned his head to her, speaking without moving his lips. "What could I? Quetesh is holding all secrets to herself."

Sam didn't feel any surprise. It seemed like an hour they stood there, and then Quetesh was coming back down the roads. Her sapphire-blue dress shone in the sunlight, and swept behind her with each long stride. Sam still couldn't read anything in her face exactly, and Jolinar neither. The road had been repaired since the explosion, and Quetesh followed it down to the fields. Again, Sam stood with the Doriens and waited with swallowed breath.

Drego, a few paces ahead, threw a small glance back after another half hour. There was nothing happening, either physically or mentally, but Sam felt like there should be. Just as she was steeling herself for another calm wait, the slightest of murmurs ran through all the assembled Doriens, and she saw Quetesh rise from the valley below.

A few minutes later, and Sam realized that Quetesh was heading towards the center of the settlement. There was no way she could get closer, so she just squinted her eyes and watched carefully.

As soon as Quetesh passed, suddenly the murmur became audible, and Sam felt her worry rise. In the main square that had once led up to the temple steps, Quetesh turned. A fresh breeze blew from behind her, and hit Sam full on the face, but she still couldn't hear the words. No need, though, as they started being passed down.

"She sees no reason why we should be surprised at this," Nirishi said in Abydonian, just loud enough for the small group to here. "Her disappointment is grave. Our focus was too wide, and our control too lax."

"Our focus? That she ordered?" Inchen broke in, his Abydonian also quiet, though emotionally packed.

*She realized that she was too easy.*

"Our devotion has been flawed, and now we must remember exactly what it was for," Nirishi continued.

Jolinar didn't like the sound of that any more than Sam.

"We are to tear down this village, and—finish the foundation and build some kind of structure," Nirishi said, her voice catching, words more obviously paraphrase. "Tonight."

Sam's gaze had defocused, but it sharply went back to Quetesh. The false goddess hadn't changed that she could see, standing tall and still, the light breeze flapping both dress and hair.

"Tonight," said Inchen in a low voice. "Or what?"

"Or she will find a new world to turn her will towards." Nirishi let the last information passed along hang for a second before she let out a long, shaky breath.

Their group didn't start murmuring first, but the rise in noise hit Sam only then.

"She can't abandon us," Creot said. "That is not—"

"That is not the Goa'uld way," said Sam, as she and Jolinar caught on with a frown. "She means to imply that if she is not obeyed, she will finish this world for good."

Quetesh had finished speaking, and was walking back up to the commander's quarters. Jaffa started barking out orders, and most of the Doriens were hastening to follow.

"Why?" Inchen asked, as Creot and Nirishi managed to quickly move away with Sam, just for a few minutes.

~It's not very good leadership,~ Sam said in her head, still formulating thoughts.

*It is not a good situation,* Jolinar said, then caught on.

"She must do this," Jolinar said aloud. "She has no other choice."

The two Dorien leaders turned to her, and Inchen paused a moment. They had slipped beneath a canopy on the far side of one of the buildings.

Jolinar continued at the speed of her thoughts. "Somehow she is desperate, or desperate for her ground forces. Her plan was devastated by the ruining of the temple, and so now she has a world that is eating away at all her resources and numbers. To transfer vast numbers would scream that her mind has changed, that she made a mistake. It wouldn't be natural, and it would tear at her facade of goddesshood. So she turns the apparent choice into your hands and graciously gives you a chance to change her mind. When she knows it is impossible, or nearly so—but it is the appearance that matters."

"So we are doomed?" Nirishi asked, putting a hand out to touch Jolinar's.

Jolinar had spoken dispassionately, as the words had come. But Sam had been free to think, and as Jolinar felt her rough interpretation, suddenly the gravity matched Nirishi's.

~God, she might destroy the planet today.~

*No, she doesn't have a ship. She can't do that. All she can do is—*

~Decimate the population.~

"This was not expected," Jolinar said, looking each one of them straight in the eye.

"But it is impossible to escape," Creot finished the unspoken thought, adding a single nod.

Jolinar sighed.

~This must have been an impulse on her part.~

*And so now we must be impulsive.*

"We don't have time," Sam said. "And neither do you."

"So we make a stand," guessed Inchen, shifting closer and lowering his voice.

"Maybe," Sam said, unsure. "Just go, and be prepared." She nodded to each of them, then heard the approaching steps of Jaffa.

The Dorien leaders almost vanished as soon as Sam finished speaking, finding their way back into the crowds. Sam took the moment to withdraw back to her former hiding place, watching. Midday was just past, and they had until nightfall. This time of year, they had a couple hours more than usual, given that the sun would pass over a low portion of the mountains. But even then?

*Unless their performance is beyond what seems possible, Quetesh will find a way to spin it to destruction. She doesn't want them here, doing this, but if they are exemplary...*

~But if she doesn't want Dorieth to stay like this, it doesn't matter. She needs to either kill or transfer people to make better use of her resources. And if they are all split up—~

*We cannot do anything.*

~Escape or fight, we need to do it tonight.~

ooooooo

Only their third day back, and Sam and Jolinar weren't ready. Sam's heart was pounding as she watched what was happening, gathering all the pieces, and her breaths came sharply through a tight jaw.

~We weren't supposed to do this. Dorieth isn't supposed to matter now, so that's supposed to be okay.~

*It's not only about strategy. We always acknowledged that.*

~But what will we do, try and fail just because we have a conscience? Nothing's ready.~

*You are entirely wrong there. Look.*

Sam again focused her gaze on the settlement, each figure rapidly moving, other than the Jaffa giving more orders than necessary. She caught Jolinar's point almost instantly; below were desperate people, all of them, understanding the undertones of Quetesh better than Quetesh may have wanted. They'd been protected for so long, they had become complacent, and Quetesh's power had waned to an impression.

~But that doesn't mean that they'll stop her; they just want to live.~

*Surely you know what people who want to live are capable of.*

~But who will rebel? The Jaffa? The Doriens? Both?~

Jolinar caught her point. On edge, if a Jaffa rebelled, the others might strike him down. There was even greater chance of Jaffa trying to quell a slave rebellion, rather than join it.

*What if we don't let it get that far. What if we take out Quetesh.*

Sam shivered involuntarily. ~Personally? Assassinate her, you mean.~

*Yes,* said Jolinar simply. *Everyone's troubles are over.*

Sam violently shook her head, feeling the worry mix with a sudden revulsion that almost felt like panic. ~No, wait, no. Quetesh is—Quetesh is a Goa'uld. You can't just assassinate like—~

Jolinar didn't need the words. Her cold desire faded swiftly, quelling Sam's fear. *The host. I beg pardon.*

~No, it's fine,~ Sam said. ~I was upset at myself. I almost forgot too.~ She glanced down, repeating to herself that she did not see Quetesh. She saw an innocent woman who Quetesh used.

Jolinar restructured her plan almost instantly, however. *But I was not wrong. Taking out the head is always the best policy. More powerfully, though. Death could be a lucky shot. All they need is the push to rebel, some sense of safety.*

~But Quetesh does pose a danger, personally. So we need to incapacitate her without killing her. What is her one weapon?~

*Her voice to command.*

~Or the hand device,~ Sam countered, focusing on the distant figure of the Goa'uld. ~And when it is disabled, we take her down during the distraction. She is only as capable as her guard and her own strength.~

*Yes,* Jolinar said, heart starting to blaze with the plan. Sam gave her control, let her pace a moment as she thought. She looked down, watched where Quetesh stood on the balcony of the commanders' dwelling, eyeing the proceedings even in the hot sun. She visualized getting close enough, throwing an arrow or firing a knife straight into that hand, and then darting close for the kill. But her visualization included the Jaffa guards, who wouldn't let her that close.

~We have to get one of them, somehow,~ said Sam. ~We can't do this alone.~

*We don't have time,* protested Jolinar. She quickly reminded Sam of all the Jaffa they'd been watching, none of them quite ready to trust unconditionally.

~I didn't say a real one,~ Sam said suddenly. She remembered the armory, its location, and the concealing power of Jaffa armor. One of the Doriens could hold during the distraction, ready to let Sam and Jolinar.

Jolinar had a better idea. *No, this is all about impressions. Including that of Quetesh as leader. We must be the Jaffa. We must be Coron again. Coron was banished in disgrace, assumedly dealt with—until we come back to shame Quetesh personally. In that moment, we will have all ears and all power.*

Sam realized that she didn't want to think about Coron. That role had been driven into the ground, and she didn't see enough strength to bring it back.

Just then, Drego ran up the hill, glancing behind himself. "Devret," he said. "Is there a plan?"

"Is there news?" Jolinar asked.

He shook his head, brow wrinkled.

"Perhaps," Jolinar answered his first question. She looked at him closely. "Are your people ready to fight for their freedom?"

Drego blinked. "But of course."

"Now?" Jolinar emphasized.

"We may die today, or some of us," Drego said. "We will not let that happen easily."

"Well, it will happen," Jolinar said. Off Drego's slight jerk, she continued swiftly. "The fight. We hope to take out Quetesh personally, which means that all of you must be ready to cooperate to finish the job."

Drego hesitated. "What does that mean?"

"It means you may not attack the Jaffa without provocation at that point," Jolinar said, stepping closer. "If all goes well, they will be joining you, upon our words."

Drego nodded, eyes clearing. "So you will confront Quetesh somehow, and expose her falsehood for all?"

"Spread the word," Jolinar said with a nod.

Drego darted back, and Jolinar breathed out.

~I don't know if we should have told him that so quickly,~ Sam said.

*We need to keep watch, that is all.*

And so, even though they could not see it externally, Dorieth prepared for a kind of rebellion. Sam and Jolinar watched from their position, hoping Quetesh thought they would still be reeling from her demand. Had Sam and Jolinar not been in this position, they would be—but had they not been banished from their former position, Quetesh would not have been so desperate. The urgency and guilt swelled slowly, as Sam and Jolinar both tried to regulate what was happening.

ooooooo

Daylight faded fast, and Sam found flaws in the plan. Neither she nor Jolinar trusted their aim with a knife, no matter how close they got to the balcony. And the Jaffa wouldn't carry something like a bow. Somehow they had to deal with Quetesh's hand device, and it came down to expediency in the end. Jolinar had brought the small Tok'ra weapon, and that would have to work. Their aim was good, and they trusted that the damage to Quetesh's host's hand would be minimal. It had to be. At least she would be free, if this worked.

The closer things got, the more Sam tried to focus on the host. She'd almost forgotten after all this time what it was like. Her first exposure to the Goa'uld had been through Sha're—now, she'd seen them from the Tok'ra side, seen the vast network. And one host had simply not stuck out.

Jolinar didn't like this any more than Sam, and so as darkness came, they watched Quetesh and thought of what they would do. Once in Jaffa armor, they would sneak slowly close, then at the right moment fire the weapon. In the slight confusion, they would rush up with staff weapon, strike down Quetesh at the knees, and then shoot or knock out the few Jaffa who stood near her. By that point, the others would not dare fire, because they intended to have Quetesh in a headlock, fully at their mercy.

On the other side of things, even with the haste, Quetesh's demand had been more impossible than it might have been. Only the beginnings of a structure were arising on the foundation where the temple had been, and light was almost gone. Any moment now.

Sam finally dropped away and went to the armory. She slipped out of her slave garb, and back into the stiff and heavy Jaffa armor. It brought a heavy taste to her mouth, but she swallowed it. Shaking her hair loose, she used the scarf material as a kind of head tie across her forehead, to cover up where a Jaffa tattoo might be.

Swallowing again, holding herself differently, she slipped back out and up towards the commanders' building where Quetesh still stood.

As she walked, there was a sudden hush of noise. She came behind the house, just in time to hear Quetesh speak.

"And this is your worship of me?"

The words were easy, if loud.

"A shame that you purport it to be true, and not the disgrace to all of your kind that you are."

It was happening, before nightfall. Swearing inwardly, Sam rushed a little more, climbing the stairs on the right side of the building as quietly as she could.

*We're doing it,* Jolinar said, just so that they would acknowledge it.

Sam reached the top. The five Jaffa guarding Quetesh stood close to her as she spoke out over the settlement, all silent now, and clearly unfinished.

But as Quetesh opened her mouth to speak again, Sam decided that she didn't need to hear it. Taking the last step forward, she acted before the Jaffa might take their weapons to do Quetesh's next command. Sliding the weapon onto her fingers, she took a deep breath, inhaled, and then bent to the side to aim just for Quetesh's right hand.

One Jaffa turned slightly at the noise, but Sam fired. There was a flash of light, and the bolt hit Quetesh's hand squarely. She hissed in sharply, bending to clutch her hand. Sam didn't see the rest. The weapon securely rested on her hand, and so she took the staff with two hands, pummeling the first Jaffa with the top, then swinging it under her other hand to hit the next Jaffa under the chin. Another broad swing, another Jaffa fell.

But she didn't have enough time, and the other Jaffa held their weapons ready to kill. Cursing that anyone had to be hurt, she brought up her right hand, and fired two shots with the Tok'ra weapon. The Jaffa fell, the shots in their shoulders.

Quetesh hadn't had time to turn, and only just looked up as Sam was at her throat. The exhilaration of adrenaline pumping through her, and Jolinar's emotion suddenly flaring up, Sam grabbed Quetesh's dark hair with one hand. She gripped near the scalp, yanking back hard, and then whipped out the small knife in her boot to hold at Quetesh's throat.

The Goa'uld seemed almost in shock, and the beginnings of a struggle ended as soon as the knife came out. "Jolinar!" she hissed.

But Sam was looking out. Jaffa had come running, weapons raised but not ready to fire.

"Shoot!" shouted Quetesh harshly.

Sam pushed the knife against her throat harder, cutting off some of her air. "No, that isn't what's going to happen," she hissed.

The Doriens were gathering, tools held as weapons, preparing to do whatever came next. Some stood around, not knowing what was going on. Others glanced to the Jaffa, nervously. But they were all coming close.

~What do I say?~ asked Sam, a brief second all she had.

Jolinar only had the emotions, the thoughts. But that was push enough for Sam.

"So here we are," Sam called, her voice carrying across the immediate area as Quetesh's had. "Ready to fight. And look at you." She stared straight at the nearest Jaffa. "Protecting your goddess, no? Of course, because a goddess need protection. A goddess can't do anything for herself, that's why she needs faithful slaves and even more faithful Jaffa."

Sam heard Quetesh's breath hiss out beneath her, but she held tightly on. "That's not what she told you—but it seems that it is the truth. For here I stand, one whom Quetesh was meant to have disgraced for good, and yet I brought down the great goddess without a fight."

The Jaffa didn't move, one way or the other.

"If nothing else, Quetesh lied to you," said Sam. "And if she is so worthy of worship, why do that? But I'm not going to have that argument. If Quetesh is a god, then she is a poor one in reality. She did not protect you, and now she cannot protect herself. So I am going to take her, and her lies, away from you. I am going to take her up to the chappa'ai."

She gripped Quetesh's hair tighter, wrenching her to her feet.

"Coward!" whispered Quetesh through the knife pressed against her windpipe.

"Victor," Sam whispered back in the moment, then looked back to the Jaffa and Doriens below her. "If you think that such a pathetic being, who has never raised a hand to protect you, is deserving of your minds and hearts and hands—then take your stand and stop me. For Quetesh will not. She has no powers more than any one of us, and if I am wrong, then I am willing to be struck down."

Two Jaffa ran forward as Sam started dragging Quetesh back, but Sam held the Goa'uld as a near-perfect shield and didn't hesitate. ~They respect power, authority—they won't back down so easily, even for this.~

And with her breath held, she dragged Quetesh off the balcony. Everything was absolutely silent, and almost as still, until she reached the bottom stair. Quetesh stumbled, and Sam held her by her hair, roughly, and pulled her to her feet. Not a Jaffa moved.

She crossed the courtyard, straight for a crowd of Doriens standing in the road to the gate. They started to part, and she saw Inchen. Nodding slightly, she walked through the gap between them, her back now towards the nearest Jaffa. Foolhardy. Reckless. The adrenaline flowing through her veins told her that she was winning and nothing could stop her.

Behind her, Inchen slammed the wooden staff he held into the paving stones. "Quetesh is a false god!" he cried. "And now we are free."

The Jaffa ahead of Sam flinched, reaching for their weapons, as the Doriens started pounding a rhythm where they stood, sending vibrations up the r oad to Sam's feet.

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded loudly as she approached, above the rising noise of the rhythm drumming. "Shoot or not, but if not, then leave the weapons aside. Quetesh has no hold on you. You are free."

Quetesh managed a faint scream, but Sam pressed the knife closer, until a drop of blood appeared. The Jaffa looked faint, but their weapons drooped. That was enough. Doubt was enough. Sam walked straight past them, all but dragging what had once been their god.

*We will not die,* Jolinar said, as both Jaffa and Doriens moved in towards the settlement past them, leaving the road open ahead.

Sam realized that her breath was held again, and she let it out, breathing in again sharply. ~No, we won't.~

And the adrenaline was turning into triumph, and a bitter anger was forming out of their earlier fear. Let the Tok'ra deal with the aftermath and the timing; Quetesh would be dead as soon as they reached the base, and that was all that mattered.

They reached the gate, and Sam let the knife off of Quetesh's throat as she quickly dialed the Tok'ra base.

Quetesh almost struggled, but Sam's hand still gripped her hair tightly. And then, up from behind them, came one unified cry. Punctuated by the pounding rhythm of feet and staves, one long shout of triumph filled the entire valley.

"They are free," Sam said aloud, letting the words grate close to Quetesh's ear. She almost felt joy, but more than ever she just wanted it over.

Then Jolinar took control for the moment, and let her voice ring out metallic. "Simply be glad, Quetesh, that I am not letting their hands on you."

As Sam got control back as the gate whooshed open, she gave one glance back to Dorieth. In the moment, the Doriens were on top of things. That would have to do. There was so much left, but only a couple urgent things.

And her dominant emotion was satisfaction as she brought back Quetesh herself to the Tok'ra base for execution. Oh no, they had not failed on this mission.