AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rated M for some language and mature themes and some off-screen violence. My apologies to any German speakers if I got the language bits a teensy bit wrong. Google Translate is not always the best. On that note, some of the things expressed here are NOT my opinions, feelings or anything of the sort. My apologies if anyone is offended, but sometimes one needs to tell the rough stories, no?

DISCLAIMER: Stargate, Stargate SG-1, and its related characters and setting are not my property and I'm only borrowing them for a little while for some free entertainment. No infringement is intended.

Chapter Five

The council chamber was in a total uproar. A multitude of voices, each in a different language, clamored to be heard, trampling wildly over their neighbors. The news was out. Humans were not alone in the galaxy, and everyone had something to say about it – vehemently.

Only a few countries did not direct their shouts to the Secretary-General, rather trying to both explain and defend themselves against the ferocious attacks made by their colleagues. "How could you keep such a thing from us all?" the Brazilian representative demanded to know. India and Pakistan were, for the first time in seventy years, in complete agreement with each other. Iran accused Israel of plotting the entire thing, but was utterly laughed into silence. Japan, of all the nations represented here, remained astutely silent, preferring to listen to whatever details might fall from the chaos.

The Secretary-General of the United Nations pounded his gavel and shouted into the microphone before him. Failing to bring any sense of order to the proceeding, he grasped the microphone with his right hand, the metal of his watch causing a fierce feedback which squealed and echoed through the entire chamber. All became silent. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I understand that you are all upset and confused by this news, but the fact remains that it is true. The time has come when we can no longer, in good conscience, keep the existence of the Stargate a secret.

"Yes, many of the world's governments have learned of it over the years, but not all. It is the feeling of the new American President that the Stargate belongs to the world and, with the approval of the Russian president, has turned over possession of it to the United Nations for care and overall administration. In addition to this, the Department of Homeworld Security has become a truly global entity, also under the jurisdiction of the U.N. Security Council.

"There can be no denying, ladies and gentlemen," he continued boldly, "that the time has come for us, as a people, to reevaluate our place in the galaxy. Indeed, we should look also to our own home, Earth, and see that we cannot continue to be a force in the wider scope of the galactic affairs if we cannot keep our own selves in check. Looking back on our own history, both of individual nations as well as globally, it can be taken as no surprise that peoples such as the Nox and the Tollan – clearly more advanced technologically and socially than we – would choose to see us as a backward, ignorant species.

"Our staunchest allies throughout our battles with the Goa'uld System Lords, the Asgard, called us 'the Fifth Race'. Isn't it time we started to act like it?" The Secretary-General gave the assembly a moment to let his question digest.

A hand was raised toward the back of the chamber and was acknowledged, the representative of South Africa. He stood, speaking plainly, "If we are to be this 'Fifth Race', as you say, what is to be expected of us? Are we to surrender our sovereignty to the United Nations? Are we to give up our own governments, which have served our people for decades – in some cases centuries?" He looked out over his gathered colleagues and smiled before turning his attention back to the Secretary-General. "No, I do not think there is anyone in this room who would wish to accept that as a solution.

"Are you proposing war, sir?" asked Spain in her dulcet tones. "A conflagration to ultimate supremacy over the world and this Stargate? I think that you overestimate the blood-thirst of many a people, sir."

"People!" the Secretary-General called again. "What does a government need that we here do not now possess? Leadership and representation of nearly every nation on the planet is right here. Does a proposal such as we are discussing necessarily ask for individual nations to give up their rights of sovereignty? No! What is proposed, however, is a greater unity and a dedication to set aside our differences and come together as a single people; to cry out to the galaxy that we are one."

"And what of those who refuse to bow to this Imperialist subversion of national freedom?" cried the representative of Iraq. "Already the Americans occupy my country and for many years have done so. The same for Afghanistan. Will these nations be returned to their rightful status as sovereign states, or will America be permitted to keep us as puppets?"

The Secretary-General held up a placating hand, "Please! No one is saying that the issue needs to be resolved today, and certainly not without a vote from the people of Earth. All the people of Earth." He smiled warmly to the assembly. "It's getting late. Let us adjourn for the night and think about this. Speak with your representative heads-of-state, and tell them what is afoot."

With a decisive rap of the gavel, the meeting was over.

A full second moon shown brightly down upon the clearing in which they sat, the five companions. Ashley had been severely morose and quiet since the death of Durann, likely owing to the grief of the symbiote that now resided within her. Sitting away from the others, Ashley hugged her knees and rocked slowly, tears streaming down her cheeks. It had been so sudden and there had been no time for her to really prepare for being a host. It was disturbing her and Keltit had not spoken much since the blending.

/I am sorry for this, Ashley,/ Keltit offered quietly. /New blendings are often painful, and we grieve as deeply as any other creature./

/I know,/ came Ashley's reply. /I just wish that it hadn't had to happen that way, you know?/ She could feel a curious tug and a warm sensation of feeling from the symbiote. Keltit had smiled. /When we get back, I would like to see you somehow./

/That can possibly be arranged, but it will be less than pleasant. I must say that I am amused that you would want that. Most of my hosts have not bothered./

/Has the galaxy really changed much?/ Ashley asked suddenly.

Keltit chuckled. /I have seen only a handful of years, Ashley. No, the galaxy has not changed in any greatly significant ways in that time, though the appearance of the Tau'ri was quite cathartic. It is not often that new peoples find their way into the greater community./ She paused a moment. /Particularly one as disjointed and chaotic as yours./

The sound of booted foot falls roused the pair from their talk. Looking up, they saw Monroe approaching with a steaming bowl of something. The bowl was offered to them as the other crouched beside them. "Here," said Lynn. "Eat something. You two need to keep up your strength." The bowl having now passed hands, Monroe rose to leave them in peace but Keltit stopped her.

"Doctor," she said quietly but with little reaction. "Lynn," the Tok'ra tried again. "Do not despair, Lynn. His memory lives still."

Without turning back to them Monroe sighed, "It's not that, Kel. It's..." her voice trailed off and she hung her head.

Keltit smiled softly and, setting the bowl aside for now, rose to her feet and placed a hand to Monroe's shoulder, gently guiding the latter around to face her. "There is no shame, my friend. Not everyone is able to go through with becoming a host, even when they are prepared. Lynn," the symbiote offered tenderly, "I am not offended. Do you think you're the first to have turned me down?"

"Turned you down? No. But I feel very much that I let you down. You were counting on one of us to help you, and I couldn't." Monroe's eyes were brimming with tears that were sparkling in the moonlight. "I just couldn't."

This was no new experience for Keltit and it showed as her hand rose to wipe away a single tear that had fallen from Lynn's eye. "There, there. No need for all of this now." She offered a meager grin. "Let it go, Lynn. You were not ready for it." Leaning close, she lowered her voice to a whisper, lending what weight she could to her next words, "I understand."

Looking into the warm eyes of her two friends, Lynn shed slow tears but smiled. Her cheeks were moist and warm with color. "Can you forgive me?"

Laughing quietly, Keltit took Lynn in her arms and hugged her amiably, "There was not, nor is there now, anything to forgive." The two remained this way for many moments and Kel could feel a sense of relief wash through Lynn's body.

But a second set of footsteps caught her attention. It seemed to have come from the right. Finn, of course, heard them too, and both symbiote and host became tense. They tapped Lynn on the shoulder and whispered to her, "We have company, I think. Get the others." Lynn nodded dumbly and turned to enter the camp.

Before either woman could move, a voice rang out in the darkness, "Achtung! Du bist umzingelt! Gebt euch bis jetzt!"

The sound of weapons being primed launched them both into action. The others of their team were already springing to action. Even Monroe was ready, having drawn and primed her zat'nika'tel sidearm. The voice from the darkness called out again, more vehemently, "Gebt euch bis jetzt!"

When the three women made it back to the camp, Tenbaum was scowling and Myrrwnn was already leaping for a low-hanging branch. Crouching there, her staff weapon at the ready, her eyes scanned the darkness for the owner of that voice. Godfrey was sizing up the situation as best he could; five of them in a bunch against an unknown number of enemy soldiers, probably well spread out. Had Keltit the ability to read the major's thoughts, she would agree with him. To fight now was probably not wise and she said so.

"Senken Sie Ihre Waffen!"

"What the devil are they saying?" Godfrey demanded of Monroe.

Tenbaum answered dourly, "We're surrounded, sir. They want us to surrender and put down our weapons." Wally was staring furiously in the direction of the foul voice. "I don't think they'll ask again."

"Fuck," spat Godfrey. "We might be able to learn a thing or two. All right, folks, give 'em up." With that, he unclasped his P-90 and set it on the ground while raising his hands. The others followed suit, though Tenbaum's eyes now nearly blazed with silent reproach.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Major," Keltit warned.

Into the clearing stepped half a dozen uniformed folk, armed with sizable machine-guns. Now, up close, there was no longer any mistaking the uniforms, nor their wearers, for anything but what they were – ghosts from the past. How this could be none of SG-1 could fathom. The German soldiers quickly secured the team and their gear, a wolfish grin upon the face of the one who was their leader. Intense chatter between their captors as they collected Myrrwnn from her tree, yowling and hissing vehemently at the impossible soldiers. The leader stepped forward and addressed Godfrey in a stilted, halting English, "I am Oberstleutnant Marx, and you are now prisoners of the Reich. But for your...unusual companion, if you behave, you will be treated well. Resist and you will all be shot, starting with the women."

Myrrwnn roared her rage at these enemies but was silenced by a swift rap across her muzzle. "Control your beast, sir," Marx said. "I will warn you only this once. Control it, or we will be forced to kill it."

"Stand down, Myrr," Godfrey capitulated. Myrrwnn stared daggers at him, but complied. The group was then forced to their knees while Marx paced in front of them. He was speaking into an oversized radio while his team finished disarming the prisoners. Ashley could feel Keltit squirm within her and winced.

Calm down, Kel, she admonished the symbiote. /The major knows what he's doing. We'll get out of this. We have no way of knowing if they even know you're here./

/Nor do we know that they don't,/ was Kel's terse reply.

"Soon, you will all be our guests upon the pride of the Fatherland, and enjoy our...hospitality." Marx crowed.

"You don't seem so surprised to find us here," Lynn spoke up, curious. "I am, however, surprised that you would know to speak English to us. How is that..." Her question was cut short by a knock to the head.

"You will be silent!" Marx stalked off, calling to his side the male of his group. The two spoke quickly.

Tenbaum muttered to his teammates that there was a shuttle on its way to pick them up. The shorter of the German women crouched beside him, pressing the muzzle of her rifle against his jaw, and growled darkly, "Gib mir einen Grund, Hund." He fell silent.

The cell was dark and Godfrey was left mostly alone with his own thoughts. Balls up, he thought. That's what they called missions like this. Balls up. Pulling himself to hands and knees, he felt his way around the small cell, marking and measuring his surroundings. He silently cursed himself for having taken French and not German in high school. He cursed himself for a lot of things in the past few...was it hours or days?

No one had come to talk to him at all, and he could not see outside his cell to tell where the rest of his team might be. They could be scattered through the ship for all he knew. There was a sudden clatter at the door and Godfrey scooted back away from it. A barrage of light flooded the room, blinding him, as shadows streamed in and took hold of his arms. The shadows dragged him to his feet and out from the cell. The journey from his cell did not take long, and his eyes were adjusting to the light by the time he felt himself slammed onto an upright table and strapped roughly to it. Blinking away the spots from his vision, the air was forced out of him by a sudden blow to his midsection.

"Well, major," came a sour voice dripping with venom. "It is time that you and I had a little chat."

"I won't tell you anything."

A chuckle, as dark and ominous as it was filled with a terrifying mirth. "Oh, but I think that you will." There was a snapping of fingers, followed by creaking wheels as something was rolled into the room and placed before him. "I suspect that this," the voice was saying, "belongs to you and that you care for it, ja?"

Godfrey looked down, now that his vision was cleared and launched into a furious struggle against his restraints. Before him, strapped tightly to a rolling steel table, was Myrrwnn. She was blindfolded and gagged; even her muscular tail had been clamped down lest she lash out with it. But it twitched furiously. "You bastards," Godfrey spat. "Leave her alone!"

"Ah," the mirthful voice cackled. Godfrey still could not see the owner of that voice, but he swore that he'd strangle the giddiness right out of it if given half, no a quarter of a chance. "So you do have feelings for this creature. How curious."

All at once, there was a face before him, springing into his field of vision like some wicked jack in the box, his bespectacled visage twisted into a rapture of glee. He seemed to be a doctor of some sort, likely a surgeon by the way he darted off to attend his instruments. He prodded Myrrwnn viciously in the ribs and observed her squirm. "The subject is most curious, indeed. I had the opportunity to study its companions earlier but they were, unfortunately, quite dead at the time."

Myrrwnn howled against the gag, gnawing at the hard rubber ball that held her jaws open. Every muscle in her body strained as she fought against her bindings. The hatred and rage that poured from her eyes spoke of pains this doctor could perhaps only dream of inflicting. He only chuckled and grasped her ear, stooping low to peer into it. "It's quite a fine specimen, major. You're to be commended for capturing it."

"Let's get this over with," Godfrey grumbled. "Where is the interrogator?"

"What?" the little doctor asked, turning to Godfrey a genuinely puzzled expression. "What interrogator? There is no interrogator." He offered a smile that sent ice water through Godfrey's veins. "No, Oberstleutnant Marx merely wished you to observe my examination of the creature." He cackled and danced a little jig toward his instruments. "Doktor Ekhart is doing the same with the other male and that most curious female of yours. The one with the thing?" he absently tapped the back of his head – right where a symbiote would reside.

"What the hell do you want from us, then?"

"Your cooperation, major." Another voice blared from all around him, piped through speakers that hung in each high corner of the room. "We know that you come from Earth. We have no wish to harm you, if you are proven to be truly human. We only wish to know the fate of our glorious Reich and the strength of the original Fatherland."

"Then you can go right to hell because your 'glorious Reich' died a painful death some sixty years ago."

"Lies!" the voice decried passionately. "The Reich is to last a thousand years! More, if our discoveries can be returned to the Fuhrer."

Godfrey grinned. "Your Fuhrer is long dead, my friend. The movement died. You're ancient history to us."

"Then you will tell us," the voice's tone grew icy, "where is Earth?"

Ashley awoke on her back, arms and legs spread. At once, she could tell that something was horribly wrong. She was cold. Very cold. The hardness upon which she lay was freezing and felt like it might be steel. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring up into a brilliant light. Her mouth had been forced open while she'd been unconscious and a hard rubber ball inserted, held in place by a tight leather strap.

There was weight at her wrists, thighs and ankles. She was fastened to the table, she knew it to be a table now. And she was naked. She knew that now, too. She was afraid. Keltit tried to calm her host as best she could, but she was, herself, growing afraid of these new humans. Unconsciously, Keltit tightened her grip on Ashley's spine, painful and made her host whimper. A flush of apologetic sorrow swept through the symbiote where she was joined to her host, as she forced her small body to relax its grip.

"Hey, you're awake," came a familiar voice, welcome through the terror.

The two-made-one turned their eyes toward the voice and Ashley blushed madly. Tenbaum was there, strapped as she was, to a table. A door opposite to him, to her right, opened and the three looked to see a man enter. He was dressed in what looked to be a heavy white surgical gown, already splattered with old blood. "Now then," he was saying in a thickly accented English, "let us see what makes you so special, shall we?" He was stalking toward an instrument tray which was subsequently rolled toward the table upon which the newly made Tok'ra now lay. With a humorless smile, he unbound the gag from Ashley's mouth and let it fall to the floor.

Keltit was frightened and angry, and she stared at the burly doctor with a brand of hatred that she'd once only reserved for the most depraved of the Goa'uld. He took a step backward as her eyes flashed brightly at him. "You would do well not to touch me, human," she declared in her most imperious voice.

/Kel, what are you doing?/ Ashley pleaded with the symbiote.

/Please, my little one. Trust me. We will not reason our way out of this./ Keltit did her best to reassure her host that this was the best, perhaps even the only way, to save them all. Her attention returned to the doctor, "I see by your face that you understand what I am. Release me now, your Goddess, and I will be certain you are spared."

For his part, Tenbaum remained quiet but the doctor did not. "You amuse me, Goddess," he spat, approaching the table once more with a scalpel in his hand. "You seem to believe that you are in a position to demand anything."

Then the doctor made a fatal mistake. Realizing that his subject was one of the devil's gods, he shifted the hold on his scalpel from his hand to his mouth and reached for a set of straps. Keltit made use of every weapon she had available to her. Pouring dangerous quantities of adrenaline into Ashley's body as soon as one wrist was free, she lashed out to catch the doctor by his throat. She pulled fiercely with one arm while strangling the doctor with the hand that gripped him. There was a squeal as the moorings of her shackles came first loose, then free. Behind his mask, the doctor gasped and gaped like a fish as he fought for what little air she might allow him. He stared, imploring, into her flashing eyes.

Her other hand freed, she set to work unstrapping her thighs. The scalpel clattered to the floor. She directed the doctor to unfasten her ankles and, amazingly, he complied. Kel could feel Ashley's terror beside her, but also her elation and gratitude. Her host was begging her to kill the monster, her internal voice having taken on the tones of a small child. Kel forced the doctor to his knees and pondered him for a moment, then looked over his crude instruments. Gliding smoothly from the table to stand before him, she knew he would not last much longer without air. She obliged her host, though a ripple of sorrow flowed through her as she casually snapped the doctor's neck.

Hastily, she unbuckled her own useless restraints and then turned to release Tenbaum. Her fingers were swift and she acted wordlessly. Pulling him from the upright table, she looked about for anything she might use for clothing. "Ah, thanks," Tenbaum mumbled as he stared at the crumpled and broken former doctor on the floor.

"Say nothing of it, Captain." Her tone implied that she meant it literally, so he didn't.

They were fortunate that there happened to be a small locker inside the room, and unlocked. Within it were several surgical gowns like the doctor had worn though these were, blessedly, free of blood. Keltit grabbed one and slid away into her own mind, letting Ashley handle the chore of dressing. "Do you have any idea where the others might be, sir?" Finn asked. His somber shake of head was not encouraging. "Okay, then we'll have to find them." Tenbaum nodded and was already moving toward the door. The fact that no one had burst into the room with automatic weapons was a good sign that the door was unguarded. That, or the guards had strict orders not to enter the room for any reason.

Listening at the door, Finn frowned at the chill of her bare feet but pushed it aside. There did not seem to be any sort of sound coming from the other side of the door, so she risked the handle. It was unlocked. Letting it swing open just a crack, she peered down the corridor. It was empty. Now that the door was open, she could hear a sound from what seemed to be only a few doors down. It sounded like yelling. It sounded like the Major.

Without waiting for Tenbaum, bolstered by what she had seen Keltit do to the doctor with her own hands, Finn darted out of the room and toward the door that contained the yelling Major. She could hear Tenbaum scurrying behind her, silent. Between herself and Keltit, they were beginning to doubt the Captain's ability. It was obvious he was content to let them take charge of the situation. So she did.

Bursting through the door, she rolled, reaching out to grasp the nearest thing to hand as she came to her feet. It happened to be a long pair of hemostats which she promptly plunged into the doctor's throat. Tossing him aside like a doll, she pointed to the major while addressing Tenbaum, "Sir, if you'd grab the major, I'll get Myrr." Hastily, her fingers worked, unfastening the gag from the Jaffa's mouth. The feline woman howled and hissed at no one, gripping her side once a hand was freed. They'd flayed her right side, stripping away fur and several layers of skin. That she was naked did not seem to register to her at all. Myrrwnn's feet struck the deck and she nodded to Finn once, firmly. She was ready.

There was the sound of boots pounding down from the corridor outside. They were caught again, but this time, they were free to act. Myrrwnn and Finn took positions flanking the door, while Godfrey and Tenbaum hid behind tall, narrow cabinets. Foolishly, the guards burst in only to find themselves assaulted by an angry Jaffa and her friends.

Myrrwnn grabbed the first German by the throat and squeezed viciously until something snapped and tossed him away. Finn shoved the door into the third guard to enter. The Jaffa was already gouging swaths of flesh from the second guard's face with her claws. The guard's weapon clattered to the deck, only to be scooped up by Godfrey. Tenbaum grabbed the first guard's weapon. He wouldn't need it anymore.

Now armed, the quartet sneaked into the corridor and looked carefully. There was still one member missing and she had to be found before they could leave. Also, there was important equipment that would be required to return home. The featureless walls offered them no direction, no indication of what part of the ship they might be located. Godfrey paused and tried to envision the corridors through the blinding glare through which he had first seen them. Setting off at a brisk pace he angled left, crouched low. His team was arrayed behind him.

By now their captors knew of the escape and a wailing alarm sounded throughout the corridors. Soon, the entire section would be crawling with German troops.

The blare of an unfamiliar alarm roused Lynn violently from her half-conscious state where she had drifted in the arms of a languid dream. In the dream, she was safe at home with her husband and son. Then she remembered. She'd never married. Her eyes came open into a dreadful blackness, as impenetrable as it was oppressive. Rolling onto her belly, she felt about in the blackness for anything that might give her some sense of bearing. All she found was the same bland, featureless and icy floor as what she lay upon. She dared not scoot about too much lest there be some form of drop off to one side or the other. There was a sudden sound of gunfire far to her left and it startled her. Were her friends being killed? She wailed and wished that she were with them, to die by their sides, stately and dignified rather than cowering alone in the dark.

Craning her neck to stare toward where the gunfire had come from, Lynn pulled herself to a seated position and waited. It had occurred to her that perhaps, just perhaps, her team had escaped and were even now making their way to her. The door behind her rattled and was flung open. An angry voice barked at her as she was pulled to her feet and dragged away from the darkness into a blinding light. She thrashed and begged to be returned to the darkness. The darkness was familiar. The darkness was safe. The darkness was where her friends could find her. White light exploded behind her eyes as she took another rap to the head. They weren't even asking her any questions. Weren't you supposed to ask your prisoners questions?

Feet dragging along behind her, Monroe was carried along, too unsure of herself to try anything glaringly heroic. That sort of thing usually got one killed more often than working out well for the hero. The sound of gunfire was growing nearer and Monroe found herself flung to the deck, a hard soled boot pressed to the back of her neck. A harsh voice cried out in a heavily accented English, "Stand down or the woman dies! This is your only warning!"

A string of curses and regrets flooded Lynn's mind as she realized that, indeed, her friends had escaped confinement but that she would be the cause of their recapture. She wailed and thrashed beneath the boot and cried out to them not to give up. The boot ground more heavily onto her neck, choking off her bravado as she struggled to breathe. There was another gunshot and, for a moment, Lynn wondered why heaven looked so remarkably like the inside of a German starship. Then the weight of the boot fell away and she immediately scrambled toward her friends. Hands grabbed at her but were cut down even as they did so.

Once again joined to her companions, Lynn smiled to Finn. "Well, this is fun. What's next, lass? Tea and scones?"

Finn smirked and squeezed off two rounds to keep the soldiers at the end of the corridor behind cover. "Major, we can't stay here. Any ideas?"

"I'm open to suggestions, ladies."

Myrrwnn launched herself around the corner she'd been using as cover and bore down fast upon an unsuspecting soldier. The others hadn't had time to try stopping her and it was unlikely that they could have anyway, which left them only to call after her and implore her to return. Three Germans, cowering behind corners and doorways, fired blindly at the howling mass of enraged fur and claws that was clearly intent on separating them into individual pieces. The Jaffa grabbed the nearest guard by the face, claws biting deeply into his flesh, and ripped the weapon from his hands, flinging it back toward her companions. One of the Germans thought to grow a spine and rushed Myrrwnn in hopes of getting her to drop her captive. He succeeded only in receiving a muscular tail thrashing into his gut and a foot crushing his windpipe. Casting a brief glance to SG-1, she tossed her captive to them while shifting her full weight onto the German's throat. There was a satisfying crunch and the hands that grasped at her foot fell away like dead fish.

Bounding back to the team, she pounced their captive and growled fiercely beside his ear. A hand upon her shoulder did nothing to calm her. The Jaffa was nearly feral now, enraged beyond reason. Godfrey shouted at her to no avail. Even a sharp and imperious Kree! from Keltit was not enough to sway the massive woman from her course of bloodshed. Only Lynn's soft words seemed to get through to her at all, "This will not bring your pride back, Myrr. Do not become like them."

With a disgusted snarl she stood and flung the guard to the deck, smiling when she heard his skull crack against hard steel. She turned away, scooping up one of the fallen weapons and taking position to watch while the others questioned their prisoner. "We not stay long," Myrr encouraged them.

"Gotcha," was Godfrey's reply before turning on their prisoner, a terrified youth who oozed fear from every poor in his fair skin, his bright blue eyes wide and certain that he was to die at the hands of these inhuman monsters. Godfrey leaned close to the soldier, beckoning Lynn to his side. Pressing the warm muzzle of his confiscated rifle under the young man's chin Godfrey hissed, "I do not want to kill you. Help us and you will not be harmed; you have my word. Do you understand?" The youth shook his head, though whether in answer or lack of comprehension none could be sure. Tenbaum repeated the major's words, as exactly as he could, only to be met with a more emphatic shaking of the youth's head. He was choosing the hard way. "Fine," Godfrey grumbled, hauling back on the rifle's slide mechanism. The threatening clack-snap had the desired effect, widening the soldier's eyes as comprehension of the gravity of his fate was made plain to him. Raising a trembling arm, he pointed back the direction that Lynn had been dragged.

Thinking that would be the extent of aid required of him, the youth fell silent and limp. He was mistaken as he found himself dragged along with the group. "Pointing wasn't so much of a help, young man," Godfrey patronized the soldier. "We need a bit more from you, you see...like a way off this ship." The young man did not flinch, seeming to have reached the decision that they would likely kill him in any event. A low growl from Myrrwnn only confirmed this, but Godfrey held up a placating hand. "I gave you my word, son," he offered their prisoner, reading the young man correctly. "Once we have a way off the ship, you can go. Now, where is the hangar?"

The soldier spat at Godfrey's boot, missing by mere inches. "Well, that isn't very neighborly. I suppose we could always find an airlock for you to test for us." The youth's eyes went wide again and his head fell forward in defeat. He uttered a string of vehement words which, translated through Tenbaum, turned out to be directions to the hangar bay. Hastily, they secured the lad in a small storeroom after stripping him of a few portions of his uniform, which happened to fit Ashley rather well. They made their way along corridor after corridor, following the young man's instructions. Each, in their way, prayed the kid had not directed them into a trap.

They were most fortunate, however, that he did not; but the way was not easy, and twice they were nearly pinned down by enemy forces. Swiftly dispatching opposition, they at last won the hangar bay and its array of curiously unique craft. Along the left side of the bay there hung three rows of sleek, arrowhead-shaped craft whose cockpits were clearly only large enough for one pilot. Fighters. To the right side of the bay, there sat a number of strangely elongated craft, bulbous in the front and tapering to a thin tail behind. To either side of the forward section there draped a pair of turbine engines on a swivel mounting. A chopper. Godfrey grinned in spite of himself. Sixty years of isolation and they still managed to develop a helicopter.

Turning his grin into a wry smirk, he dashed across the bay to look inside the thing and examine the controls. Godfrey was at once satisfied that he could pilot this craft...but would it get them to a world with a Stargate? There was no way to know. He peered around the nose of the helicopter-thing, hoping to spot something more promising. He was not disappointed. Nestled in the corner of the bay was a large pyramidal shaped craft whose lines were very familiar to everyone on the team. A Goa'uld cargo ship, and it was intact unlike Myrrwnn's hoped for egress. Waving his team forward, Godfrey's eyes scanned about the bay for any sign of pursuit. Amazingly, there was no evidence at all and this struck Godfrey as more than a little suspicious. Having been around the block a few times, he was getting a very strong sense that this was being too easy. It was too late to turn back now, though, and so he kept his suspicious to himself.

"They are taking the bait, mein Herr?" The captain's tone was foul. "I'm taking an awful risk for this plan of yours, Karl."

Marx merely smiled as he watched the hangar bay through a small closed-circuit television feed. "Ja, like flies to dung." Calculating eyes regarded the master of the Rommel coolly. "They are too predictable, sir. If the Allies are as weak as this group, then we shall have little difficulty in bringing them to their knees."

"You believe them, then?"

Marx was flummoxed and stuttered for a moment. "Believe them!? About what? The loss of the Reich in the Fatherland?" Marx dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "In truth, that matters not. Even if what they say is true, the Reich endures as it was meant to: through us."

The Captain was unconvinced. "Surely you underestimate these folk? It would be foolish of them to fly directly to Earth from here. Clearly, they would seek a world with a Gate, and even then they would not be stupid enough to dial Earth directly."

"If that is the case, then we will follow them to the end, Herr Captain." Marx's grin was nearly as wolfish as any the captain had seen.

"They'll track us. You know that, sir." Finn grumbled as she settled into the pilot's seat.

Godfrey frowned but laid a reassuring hand on his medic's shoulder. "Just fly us out of here, Sergeant. Any direction other than Earth." He turned to the others and chuckled, "Strap in, folks. We're likely to be in for a bumpy ride."

"Um, I hate to be the bearer of unglad tidings, lads," Monroe offered dourly, "but how do we plan to get the doors open?" The others looked at her, rather stunned. The cargo ship had no weapons, only its massive bulk which would hardly be a match for a stubborn bay door.

Myrrwnn stood abruptly and moved toward the hatch that led out to the hangar. "Whoa!" Godfrey called, grabbing her by the arm. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"To free us." Yanking her arm from the Major's grip, she stalked from the cargo vessel and toward the nearest helojet, as Godfrey had taken to calling them. Almost at once, he knew what she had planned and he called after her, "NO!"

The rest of the team was startled by the major's outburst, and Monroe came to his side asking what was the matter; then she saw Myrrwnn climbing into the cockpit of one of the nearby craft. After a moment the craft's engines began to whine into life; the whine swiftly giving way to a powerful roar. Myrrwnn actually smiled to a hastily approaching Godfrey and pulled the canopy closed. He vaulted onto the side of the craft and beat on the canopy but Myrrwnn was set in her path. "Don't you do it, woman! I'm not losing another one!" He raised his rifle, aiming carefully as the craft began to rise from its berth. Squeezing the trigger, a shot rang out but only glanced off of the deceptively thin canopy. Godfrey's face drooped in disappointment. Myrrwnn smiled triumphantly. The Jaffa punched the throttle forward, sending the craft lurching forward and Godfrey pinwheeling off the hull to strike the deck with an audible crunch. He could only lie there helplessly watching the Jaffa, so unusual and graceful and a friend in so short a time, line up her craft with the still secured hangar bay doors.

Shouting at Myrrwnn to stop, Myrrwnn spun up the engines to a wicked roar that drowned out all else. She gazed out to her friends and waved to them. Then she punched the controls hard and the craft shot forward like a bullet. She could only hope that the rest of her team would make it back into the cargo ship in time. Bracing for the impact that was sure to come, Myrrwnn offered a silent prayer to Bastet, the real one that Lynn had told her about. A viscous crash mingled with the squeal of rending metal and the rush of wind as the bay hemorrhaged its supply of oxygen, Myrrwnn felt herself slammed forward against the displays, twisted sharply and impacting her already wounded shoulder into the altimeter.

There was a dizzying fall of stars about her and she tried not to look. It was making her nauseous. It took her a moment to realize that she was still a live. Grinning madly, she fought the controls of this beast of a machine and managed to get the wild spin into something resembling a stable course away from the bulk of the Rommel. Coming about in a flat turn that altered not her momentum, Myrrwnn let out a yowl of glee to see the cargo ship slipping from the hole her maneuver had created for them. She wished only that she had a way to communicate with them that they could know she was well. Gripping the stick in a massive hand-like paw, she waggled the craft, then made a full roll and righted herself in relation to the cargo ship. She grinned more to see the cargo ship waggle its wings in reply.

The cargo ship maneuvered along side her and she could see the team ecstatically grinning within. They pointed to her and the cargo ship rolled onto its side so that she could see its underside. The rings were activated but quickly shut down and the ship rolled upright once more. Myrrwnn smiled and nodded to them. She had seen this attempted once, and could only hope they knew what they were doing. After all of this, she was willing to give them the benefit of a lot of trust. Breathing out sharply several times, her eyes never left the cargo ship as it slid into position over her. Quickly, Myrrwnn strapped herself into the pilot's seat, like she'd not had time to do prior to her little stunt, then pulled on the ejection handles. There was a mighty whoosh of air as the canopy was blown from the cockpit, exposing her to the cold of space. She pushed of hard with her feet on the floor of the cockpit, getting herself rising toward the cargo ship. It was slow going, much too slow. Her lungs burned and her fur was nearly frozen. The bare patch along her side was already frosting, to say nothing of other bits of her that were not so often exposed to the elements.

At last, she saw the rings enclose her, the vibrant vibration along her body as she was transported into light and heat and air. Her massive body collapsed, unconscious but alive. She did not feel the cargo ship dart away into hyperspace.

The uproar of revelation was not to die down any time soon.

Headlines appeared, almost at random, throughout the world; almost all of them saying the same thing: Aliens were very real, and we have been visiting them for a dozen years already. They began quietly enough, these headlines, in relatively rural areas, but they swiftly spread to major metropolitan areas. The New York Times could not help but to print one of the first devastating articles: What's a Stargate and Why Do We Need It?

Public outcry for the expense, the deception, the almost cavalier manner in which the United States Air Force had played with the fate of the entire planet time and time again, rose to a frightening crescendo. There was no escaping the fact that the world's population was less than happy.

However, there were those folk who regularly existed on the fringes of society, usually labeled "kooks" and "crazies", who leapt and danced with glee to find all their work proven correct. There was an irony lost on no one at the SGC that Daniel Jackson, one of the founders of the Stargate program and it was often said that he was the heart and conscience of the place, was among these vindicated "kooks".

While the people of the world debated how, and even if, their world had changed overnight, governments moved as carefully as they could to enact measures that would bring about a more unified political landscape. Over the next weeks, nearly every head of state declared their support for giving control of the Stargate to the United Nations security council and, indeed, to work more closely with the United Nations as a whole to usher in a new age for humanity. Through a leak to the Chicago Tribune it came to be known as "The Fifth Race Initiative". No one really knew the significance of the phrase, but it all sounded so incredibly wonderful. Fans of a particular brand of science-fiction threw wild parties, convinced they were seeing the birth of a much longed-for government, a galactic confederation that could last for at least another five hundred years.

There were plans proposed to offer new forms of power and infrastructure to all parts of the world for, as the Initiative claimed, these discoveries belonged to the entire world to use. All of the major governments, particularly those members of the former International Oversight Advisory – now the United Oversight Council – set into motion the machinations that would retool all of their power plants to utilize the far more efficient naquadah generators. Less developed countries would be shown ways in which they could boost productivity in areas of energy and food production. Oil magnates decried the changes and feared the collapse of their massive power bases as dependance on fossil fuels were on the brink of a rapid decline.

All was not happiness and joy, however. Several minor governments, particularly those in central Africa, destabilized and collapsed, requiring the United Nations to step in and gather the disparate factions together for negotiation. It became regulation for stable governments to be in place in order to qualify for aid. The world watched with bated breath as four African nations, who had been in a state of conflict both internal and external, were finally merged into a single state and were due to have their first national elections at the end of the year.