CW: Sexual assault.

Chapter 7, part 2.

Colonel Andersen was already waiting at the range, accompanied by Major Hale and another man that hadn't been there last night, as well as the Range Safety Officer. Carter was already there, too, talking to Andersen with a pleasant smile. As Alice approached the group, she noted that there was something wrong with his outline against the green and yellow backdrop of grass and dirt—one of his hands looked too bulky, like he was holding something… and then she realized he had his wrist in a splint. Her eyes flicked quickly from him to the unfamiliar man and a horrible suspicion sprouted in her head. He wore casual clothing like all of them did, but he was leaner than the others, his muscles pronounced under the t-shirt, and his face bore the kind of calm confidence that Alice knew all too well. Damn.

"Good afternoon, sir, ma'am," Alice greeted them respectfully, and then cocked her head and pointed at Andersen's arm. "What happened?"

He laughed nervously. "I'm afraid I had one too many yesterday after you left. I literally fell down the steps to my own house and sprained my damn wrist. Bad luck, but I'll be alright in a few days."

Alice raised her eyebrows. "Do you want to reschedule this?" She waved at the range.

"No, I brought a friend to stand in for me." Andersen smiled slyly. "You said you could do anything a man could do, so I figured any man will do. This is Major Eliot Cho."

The man nodded to her gravely, without a trace of smile, his eyes dark and penetrating. Despite the fact that his features were nothing alike, he made her think of Karim; he had the same assured serenity about him. She barely restrained a shiver and had to clear her throat before speaking. "Let me guess, Special Forces?"

"10th SFG, Airborne," he confirmed.

"That seems hardly fair," Carter reprimanded lightly, but she didn't look concerned.

"Well, General, if your subordinate thinks she can do all that men can do, she's gotta put her money where her mouth is," Andersen replied, sounding very pleased with himself. Then he addressed Alice again. "Why don't we make it even more interesting?"

"You want a bet?" Alice arched her eyebrows again.

"If I win, you'll go to dinner with Major Hale here." The Colonel patted his shoulder forcefully. The man smiled apologetically at Alice, but there was a twinkle of genuine enthusiasm in his eye that made her think he wasn't really surprised at his superior's idea—and actually endorsed it. "He's recently single and a very decent man, so really, even if you lose, it's like you won."

Carter snorted loudly and Alice rolled her eyes hard. She should've figured it would be something embarrassing like that. It was too late to back out now, though. She needed to save face—and besides, it actually promised to be a good challenge. There had been a time when anything that presented as a challenge would be a done deal for her, she'd never back down—but the last few years taught her to pick her battles more carefully. Nevertheless, the old half-forgotten voice of her inner cheerleader goaded her into action. "Fine," she agreed after a few seconds of deliberation. "And if I win, next Friday you buy drinks for me and my friends all night."

He didn't even have to think about it. "Deal." He paused for a moment and then waved at the Range Safety Officer. "This is Mark—he's gonna referee."

Alice nodded and the RSO stepped away, waving at them to follow, towards the shooting table.

"The challenge will consist of three rounds," Mark told them, his voice serious, but an amused twinkle in his eyes betrayed that he was entertained, too. "First, a handgun: a standard military-issue Beretta M9, so you both should be familiar with it." He lifted the black metal semi-automatic; it was empty, two magazines lying on the table next to it. "Ten rounds each. Next, an assault rifle, another military staple: an M16A2." He put down the pistol and pointed at the larger weapon; it, too, had two magazines ready to use. "And, finally—and this is a special favor to Colonel Andersen—Remington M24 Sniper rifle with a telescopic sight." He pointed at the last firearm on the table—longer and leaner, with the scope attached to the top—and two inevitable magazines beside it. "I will check each weapon before either of you starts shooting to make sure it has not been compromised. You will be using the standard paper bull's-eye targets for handgun and assault rifle, and steel targets for sniper rifle. Twenty-five yards and ten rounds for the pistol, two hundred yards and twenty rounds for the M16, and just under eight hundred yards and five rounds for the sniper rifle."

Alice was nodding along as he spoke, wondering idly how much this whole affair would cost, and whether the guns belonged to the range or were brought by the soldiers. Major Cho didn't seem to react in any way, but his eyes darted from the firearms to the targets already set up on the range, and to Alice—measuring, judging, preparing.

"The person who wins two out of three rounds automatically wins the challenge," the RSO continued. "Any questions?"

Alice shook her head.

"Let's begin," Cho agreed.

"Alright." The Safety Officer pulled a nickel from his pocket. "The order of firing will be decided by a coin toss," he added unnecessarily. "Heads or tails, ma'am?" He asked Alice.

"Tails," she decided and watched him throw the coin into the air and then catch it expertly on the back of his hand.

"Heads," he announced. "Major Cho, you go first."

Cho nodded, putting his ear protection and safety glasses on. The Safety Officer stepped to the shooting table, picked up the pistol, checked it carefully, inserted the magazine and only when it was ready (though still with safety on) handed it to the major. Cho checked it himself once again, and then turned towards the closest target.

"You may start when ready," Mark told him, waving at the others to put on their glasses and earmuffs, too, and the next second the gun started spewing bullets, one after another, with barely any time to bring it back down after each shot's recoil. It only took a moment before the magazine was empty. Cho put the gun back onto the table and turned around to face Alice, his expression calm, but, she thought, a little smug.

The target was close enough that Alice could see the wide hole torn in the bull's-eye of the paper target, with maybe three smaller cuts encroaching into the second ring. Next to her, Mark raised a detached scope to his eye.

"Seven in the center, three in the second circle," he confirmed after a moment; he now had to yell to be heard through everyone's ear protection. "Very good!" He moved to pick up the handgun and check it again.

Cho's eyes were challenging as he watched Alice step up to the next shooting bay and get ready. Alice felt the pressure even as she turned her back on him and the rest of the group, pistol in hand. She exhaled, lifted it and squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled, she brought it back down and fired again. Her shots were not as fast as Cho's had been, but it still only took half a minute to spend all ten rounds. Then she took a careful breath again and squinted to look at the target. Her mouth contorted in a dismayed grimace; she didn't need Mark's confirmation.

"Six in the center, four in the second circle."

She turned around, put the gun on the shooting table and looked at Cho with a defiant expression that, nevertheless, faded a bit when confronted with his triumphant smile.

"Range cold!" The Safety Officer called, even though there was no one else but their group around. He then stalked towards the targets to bring them down. He was back within a couple of minutes, handing them the paper sheets as proof. "Major Cho wins this round." He then immediately moved to prepare the assault rifle. He handed it to Alice with a nod and cried: "Range hot!"

Alice turned back towards the range, looked at the faraway target, and brought the M16 fluidly to her eyes. She fired in quick three-round bursts, with the exception of the last two; she pulled the trigger delicately and the bullets flew separately, one after another, seconds apart. Then she dropped the gun to her side and stepped away with a satisfied smile.

"Nice!" Mark exclaimed. "Fourteen in the center, six in the second circle."

Alice handed him the rifle and observed as he checked it and prepared for Cho to use. A minute later he had it back in his hands, the next magazine empty.

"Unbelievable," he said, frowning as he looked through the scope. "I may be wrong here, but I think it's the same—fourteen in the center, six in the second circle."

Alice turned to look at Cho, with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. He smiled back crookedly and bowed a little. Alice was glad—he didn't look much like Karim anymore; he was smiling too much, and his face was too expressive. It made her feel a little better.

The Safety Officer declared the range cold again and jogged away to pick up the targets. He was back in a couple minutes, panting slightly, to hand them to Alice and Cho again. Then, finally, he picked up the sniper rifle and prepared it, going as far as to set it up on the table in Cho's shooting bay.

"Range hot!"

Cho sat down, putting his eye down to the scope, exhaled and began shooting. Alice counted the metallic clanks as his targets went down; positioned nearly eight hundred yards away, they were steel instead of paper, and when struck by a bullet, they'd fold backwards, disappearing from view. They were small enough that it was hard to even see them from where she stood, so she waited for Mark's confirmation with bated breath.

"Four down, one left standing," he adjudicated with finality after looking through his scope for about ten seconds. "Very good—the wind is strong today." Then he busied himself with preparing the gun for Alice in her bay.

As she sat down, she took a look at the flags planted in different spots along the range. They were whipping violently on the wind; Mark was right. She lowered her eye to the scope, adjusted it carefully, put her finger on the trigger, exhaled, and fired. Immediately, she heard the satisfying clank! of steel. She reloaded and repeated the process four more times—and each time that same gratifying sound came wafting back to them. Then she stood up, triumphant smile playing on her lips as she turned around.

"Five out of five!" Mark confirmed. "Congratulations, Major Boyd wins this round. And that means the challenge is tied!"

Cho's face was expressionless again, the serenity so akin to Karim's that it tugged at the darkness in Alice's heart. She quickly shifted her gaze towards their public. Carter was beaming at her, Hale seemed a little disappointed, and Andersen—crestfallen.

"Damn it!" He shook his head. "I did not expect that! Here goes our bet!"

Alice rolled her eyes. "That may be for the best," she noted, exchanging an amused look with Carter.

"Well, there is one more thing we could try," Cho said from behind her. "One thing we could add."

With a sigh, Alice half-turned to look at him. He was smirking again as he addressed her.

"You claimed you can do whatever a man can, if I understood correctly. Well, there is one more thing that we sometimes need in a combat situation—are you game to try? Or do you forfeit?"

Alice felt her face scrunch in a deep frown and worked to smooth it out. At the back of her head there was a horrible suspicion with regards to what he meant—but forfeiting was out of the question.

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" She tried to sound casual.

His smirk grew larger and a little more arch. "Hand-to-hand, of course."

She nodded, unsurprised, controlling her expression.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Carter cautioned. "I don't want officers knocking each others' heads off."

"No, that's perfect," Andersen contradicted. "It would be the perfect tie-breaker. I'm sure they won't really hurt each other, ma'am," he added, looking at Alice as if he meant Cho won't really hurt her. It stoked the fire of Alice's temper enough.

"It's fine, General," she told Carter, and then turned her head towards Cho. "I'll go easy on him."

This actually made the Special Forces officer laugh out loud. Andersen joined in, and Hale chuckled, too. Alice waited until they stopped.

"What are the rules?" She asked calmly. The flames of anger still raged high inside her, and the prospect of a fight—one that she was almost sure to lose—precipitated a wave of adrenaline.

"Let's not make it overly complicated," Cho proposed. "The first person who falls down and can't get up for full ten seconds, loses."

Alice nodded. "Fine."

"No weapons," Andersen added judiciously. "No dirty tricks—no kicking the family jewels, you know."

Alice snorted at the term he'd used. "Fine," she repeated, a little abrupt. Her chances of winning just shrunk to single digits.

"There's a patch of grass over there, should help to cushion the fall," Hale suggested, pointing to a stretch of raised land just left of their position.

"You're not allowed to go there," the Range Safety Officer interjected; he had been listening quietly, standing back, until now.

"Aw, Mark, come on, man," Andersen said. "It's just for a moment. I'll make it worth your while."

Mark looked at him for a moment, and then nodded curtly.

Cho led the way, Andersen and Hale on his tail, Alice and Carter following at a bit of a distance.

"Are you sure about this, Major?" Carter asked quietly, visibly worried. "You don't have to do this. You've bested Wraith in hand-to-hand, you have nothing to prove."

"They don't know that," Alice noted. "I'll be fine. The worst that could happen is that I end up on the ground. Wouldn't be the first time, and probably won't be the last." She shrugged.

Carter threw her a sideways glance, but didn't comment further.

Andersen, Hale and Carter stopped where the grass started. Cho went on a few yards, then turned around and took a position. Alice stood a few steps away from him, took a deep breath, bent her knees and brought her hands up defensively.

Cho attacked without warning, getting close to her in one big jump, feigning a right hook and immediately following with a punch of his left arm—but Alice saw it coming and ducked out of the way, taking a step back, her hands still up. He tried to kick her with his left leg, but she shuffled sideways, out of reach, only for him to twist in a second high kick that hit her left arm so hard for a second she thought it broke; she had instinctively braced, though, and the energy of the kick was absorbed not just by her arm, but also shoulder and her entire frame. She had to take another step back, though. Cho didn't wait for her to collect herself—he was fast, his left fist flying towards her face. She blocked it with her elbow, and then grabbed it and pulled it down. Cho doubled down with his other hand and she just managed to block just before it touched her head. She saw an opening—twisted as he was, with both his arms tied with hers, one too low to be of use, and the other almost above their heads, he had lost the advantage of reach. She knew he would now move on to relying on strength, and if it came to a struggle, he'd have the upper hand; she had to act quickly. She let go of his left hand, caught his right and pulled at it, swirling around him, her left arm grabbing him by the shoulder, forcing him down at a slant. He teetered, twirling under the pressure of her hold, and used the momentum—and his considerable mass—to buck under her, almost throwing her off. Instinctively, she clasped her fingers tighter around his arm, her nails digging into his skin, and she used the energy of his movement to pull him upwards, twisting around, and then abruptly pulled him down again, feeling his body slide over her hunched back, gravity helping her now—and then he was on the ground, face-down, and she was half-kneeling next to him, still holding on to his arm, now contorted backwards in what could only be described as an uncommonly uncomfortable position. He tried to get up, bucking again under her, but she wrenched his hand a little bit farther up and he stilled, gasping in pain. She relented immediately, aware that it was very easy to sprain or even break someone's arm in this way; she didn't want to hurt him.

"…eight, nine, ten!" Carter counted the seconds. "That's it—Major Boyd won the round!" There was just a tiny bit of disbelief in her voice, but Alice didn't hold it against her—she couldn't quite believe it herself, not just that she'd won, but how quickly it all happened. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than a minute.

She released the soldier and sprung up from the ground, her hands automatically brushing off the dirt from her jeans. Cho grunted as he got to his feet; his t-shirt was stained green from the grass. His face was smooth as he looked at Alice and gave her a little bow.

"Congratulations," he said, a little grudgingly.

"Thank you," she answered, trying to suppress another triumphant smile, and turned to the others.

"Congratulations," Andersen had the good grace to say, though his expression betrayed disappointment. "I have to admit, I did not expect this result, but clearly I have underestimated you, Major." He paused for a moment, and then added with an odd twinkle in his eye: "But this only fuels my curiosity. I know the Air Force has different rules—allows women to fly in combat—but last I checked this did not extend to ground troops. You don't make sense."

Alice's answering smile was aloof. "You should know, sir, that there are always loopholes. Thousands of women had been deployed in support roles and still saw combat in Iraq and Afghanistan, to give just one example."

He snorted, but didn't get to respond.

"Either way, I'm afraid you've lost the bet, Colonel," Carter interjected with a pleasant smile. "Major Boyd beat your challenge. Sorry, no dice on dinner," she added towards Major Hale.

He grinned. "That's okay. There are other ways." His eyes slid towards Alice, and there was some promise in them that she didn't like.

At that moment, a shrill ring interrupted them; Carter pulled a cell phone from a pocket.

"Carter," she said to the receiver, turning around and walking a few paces away.

"Still," Andersen continued. "I admit your abilities are impressive, Major, but that's hardly true for all women."

"It's hardly true for all men, too," Alice pointed out, feeling the anger rise again. "The only reason you think men are better in a fight is because they are in majority larger and physically stronger—which is a biological fact, but modern war is rarely about hand-to-hand." Then she chuckled. "And being larger often doesn't mean squat. You should see my roommate—she's five eleven, but I'm still the one opening the jars in our house, if you know what I mean."

"That's not the only reason," Andersen contradicted. "Women have less spatial awareness, no sense of direction, no analytical skills, they're too emotional…"

Alice opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She half-turned to look; Carter had ended her phone conversation.

"Fourteen found something on your friend," she told Alice, throwing her a significant glance. "Wanna go check it out?"

Alice's face smoothed and she nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Carter addressed the soldiers. "Gentlemen, it was quite an interesting afternoon, and it's been a pleasure talking to you, but you'll have to excuse us now. Duty calls."

"Of course, ma'am, the pleasure was ours," Andersen replied for them all, his eyes alight with curiosity and flickering between Alice and Carter and back again.

"I'll see you next Friday night at the bar, sir," Alice said to him with an impish smile. "I'll bring some friends."

He laughed. "You do that, we'll be there."

She didn't miss the use of the plural, but decided it wasn't important at the moment. They said goodbye and Alice and Carter hurried off.

Neither of them bothered to change into a uniform; Carter merely shrugged her leather jacket off as they entered the conference room, where the members of SG-14 were waiting. They didn't seem surprised to see Alice there; she often took part in their debriefings.

"As you were." Carter waved them to sit down as she and Alice took their seats. "So, what's the news?"

"We've visited P6Z-445, following a tip from one of our Jaffa friends," the team leader, Captain Ethan Brown, began. "It's a trading planet, there's a huge market with a lot of smuggler and mercenary activity. We were making discreet inquiries all day and were about to give up when finally we found someone who recognized what we were talking about—he had seen someone who'd been bent, he described that vegetative state in which Jareth's victims are left in perfectly. After some more coaxing, he agreed to take us to him. Far as we can tell, the victim's affiliated with the Lucian Alliance, but we don't know how he came across the Wraith or what happened that separated him from Jareth, but we brought him with us, he's in the infirmary. My thinking was, we can cure him and maybe he'll give us some intel on Jareth."

Carter nodded. "Let's hope he does. Do you think we can administer the nanite therapy here or do we need to send him to Atlantis?" She addressed Alice.

Alice shook her head distractedly, her mind on something else. "No, we can do it here. All we need is a syringe, some saline solution and a PET scanner—and the nanites, of course."

"How fast can you get to work?"

"As soon as the doctors clear the subject, I guess. The whole thing is pretty quick, it's the waiting afterwards that requires some patience. Most subjects take two to three weeks to recover their sense of self and decision-making processes."

"Good, then the sooner we start, the better." Carter nodded and looked at Alice expectantly; but, since Alice didn't move, only stared into space absently, the general cleared her throat and added: "Is there anything else, Major?"

"Do you think it's a coincidence that the second time that we find a victim of Jareth's mind-bending, it's a mercenary again?" Alice asked, her expression pensive. "A month ago, that Ha'tak that captured SG-1, those were Wael's Jaffa, and we concluded that they had encountered Jareth, some of their troops had been bent and turned on them. They just managed to push them off—but then were destroyed by an unknown enemy. My theory at the time was that this could've been Jareth himself."

Carter's eyebrows were drawn together as she listened.

"You think Jareth is deliberately targeting mercenaries?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. It's good strategy—mercenaries and smugglers know this galaxy best, now that the Goa'uld are gone. They go everywhere, they know everyone, they can infiltrate any human, Jaffa or alien society—getting them on his side would give him the kind of intel he needs to dominate here. Back in the Pegasus, the Wraith are the cream at the top, they've had eons to learn everything there ever was to that galaxy, but the Milky Way is much, much bigger, and it's unfamiliar to Jareth. From everything that we know about him—" she shot a quick glance at Captain Brown, trying to pick her words carefully; he and his team were not aware of her trip to the future "—we can conclude that he would most likely work on consolidating his position first, and that requires considerable amount of intel."

Carter didn't reply, apparently deep in thought for a moment; everyone watched her in silence until she nodded gravely and finally spoke.

"Yes, that does make sense. We should focus more on worlds with heavy mercenary traffic, maybe use Vala's old contacts to make some introductions…"

"Hmmm." Alice looked up to the ceiling, her mind churning over an idea.

"What are you thinking?" Carter prompter after thirty quiet seconds.

"I was thinking we could maybe use the situation and press our advantage," Alice replied slowly, her voice still disconnected and dreamlike. Then she shook her head and added more soberly: "Jareth is sure to have learned of the Lucian Alliance by now. They'd grown their ranks considerably in the last few years—there are more of them now than before the whole Destiny thing in '09, and so it stands to reason that he'd be looking into ways to infiltrate them. Let's get ahead of him."

The general frowned again. "You want us to ally ourselves to the Lucian Alliance?"

"I want us to infiltrate them, so that when Jareth tries to do the same, we can follow the trail right back to him."

But Carter was shaking her head. "We've been trying to infiltrate them for years now. We've even succeeded a few times, but it's never been anything more than low-level positions that quickly became too hot to handle. We'd lost a couple good people that way."

Alice nodded, unperturbed. "Yes, but we've never had anyone who could get us on the inside. If we cure this guy, and he really is part of the Alliance, he may be amenable enough to introduce us, maybe get us deeper than ever before."

"We don't know what level of access he has," Carter cautioned. "We will have to wait and see—but on principle, I like this plan. I can get Major Irving on this, he'd been undercover among the mercs many times, and—"

"No, it has to be me!" Alice interrupted her hastily. The others threw her curious looks, so she cleared her throat, and forced herself to adopt a calmer tone. "I'm the only one who can resist Jareth's mind-bending. If we send Irving, or anyone else, and Jareth makes a move… we can't risk that they come under his influence. Not only would that mean mission failure, but it would put Jareth on alert, not to mention compromise all of our secrets."

Carter surprised her with a smirk. "Major, please don't get me wrong, but—you don't really look like a mercenary."

Alice rolled her eyes. "I'll get our guy to give me some pointers on how to act to pass as one. Maybe ask Vala, too. I can do it," she said with confidence that astounded even herself.

Carter kept silent for a moment, and then shrugged. "It's a moot point, anyway, at least until we get to talk to our mercenary friend. We'll revisit it then. Right now, I need you to go administer the nanite treatment to him."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Lucian Alliance mercenary was on the older side, Alice noted, watching from above the isolation room as the doctor-on-call injected him with a saline solution containing the nanites. His face, even though it bore the smooth expression of emptiness, was lined with wrinkles, his hair thin and graying at the temples. His body was marked with multiple scars, visible thanks to the shortness of the hospital gown he had been put in. He was even missing one finger—the left pinkie. He looked like a hardcore criminal—and very incongruous in this setting. Alice wondered idly about his life story. Probably born on one of the planets abandoned by the Goa'uld a long time ago, had to learn to fend for himself at a young age, survived the only way he could… was he an important member of the Lucian Alliance? Could he actually help to find Jareth? She had to believe it. It's been almost two months that they'd been wandering around the galaxy blindly, never even coming close to the damn Wraith. Her already tenuous patience was wearing thin. If there was even a slightest sliver of a chance to get him, she had to take it. And it had to be her. Nobody else knew Jareth as well as she did. Nobody could resist him but her. And nobody hated him like her.

She had a responsibility to find and kill him—for Karim, for her future self's children, for Tom Sato's fiancée and his Ivy League brothers, for Ben and Kenny and everyone in the Baltimore makeshift hospital, for the thousands dead on the streets of Washington… They may not have existed in this timeline, but they were somewhere, in a parallel universe that splintered off hers when she crossed the boundary… they were real, and their pain was real, too, and it weighed heavily on Alice's shoulders. Getting rid of Jareth was the only way it was going to be lifted off of her. And maybe—just maybe—it would be enough to atone for what she'd done to Karim in this timeline…

Alice quietly left the observation room after making sure that all of the nanites had left the mercenary's brain and inactivated safely in his bloodstream. It would be days, or weeks even, before he fell into the deep restorative sleep that would be followed by slowly regaining his faculties.

She didn't get back home. She stayed on the base and worked on a project until the wee hours of the morning. She crashed on the bed in her quarters, and continued the next day, largely ignoring annoyed texts from Deanna and Aaron, telling her to please relax for a moment. Relaxing gave her too much time to think, and too much space for the darkness to grow and overwhelm her again. Work was an excellent distraction—she had to focus all of her mind, leaving no room for the black cloud to reach her, even as she continued to feel its constant presence hanging above her head. It was like her personal sky was always overcast nowadays—but it only rained when she was thinking about it.

Over the coming week, she rarely made it home at night at all, and if she did, it was always very late—so late, in fact, that Deanna was usually asleep already. They did meet in the morning, since Dee was still getting up early to go for a run every day; the girl was making progress, but she seemed a little resentful towards Alice for rarely being home.

Friday afternoon, Carter came down to the base's test range, flanked by Mitchell and Vala; Alice was already waiting as they entered. Her latest invention was lying on a table, finished ahead of schedule and ready for its first demonstration.

"Good afternoon, Major!" Carter greeted her kindly. "What do you have here for us?" She knew the highlights, of course—Alice had to run the idea by her before she was allowed to build her proof-of-concept—but the other two wouldn't know anything.

Alice reached out and picked up the weapon from the table, showing it to them.

"This is X-801," she said, tapping her finger on the casing. "It's a hybrid weapon, mixing the capabilities of our standard Earth guns and a Wraith stunner."

"It looks like a P90," Vala commented, sitting on the edge of the table and eyeing the weapon in Alice's hands hungrily, as if she wanted to snatch it away.

"Not exactly, the frame's bigger," Mitchell contradicted, stepping a little closer to see better.

Alice nodded. "P90 has been our weapon of choice almost since the beginning of the Program and has served us well. If it works as intended, and proves useful enough, we may want to extend this technology to cover rifles, too."

"You said it was equipped with a Wraith stunner?" Carter prompted.

"Yes, ma'am. I've actually drew inspiration from Ronon's gun—I've watched him switch between lethal and stun modes on it so many times, and always found it useful. Everyone else has to carry two separate weapons—be that a P90 or M16, and a Wraith handblaster or a Zat. There's also intars that serve a similar purpose. Each of those alien guns works a little differently—the Zat emits a bout of energy that is very similar to electricity; Wraith stunner's neuron-impeding; Intars are similar, though the charge is of a different nature. The easiest would be to combine our guns with Intars, since they already are manufactured in the form of Earth-like weapons—but the Intar's capacity is pretty limited."

"I don't know, it can knock you out good if you put it on the highest setting," Mitchell noted.

Alice nodded. "Yes—humans are easier to incapacitate, but its usefulness is limited when it comes to Jaffa, Goa'uld or Wraith. The same, of course, is true for the Wraith stunner."

"Why not use the Zat, then?" Vala asked, swinging her feet up and down like a little girl.

"Zat's are pretty deadly," Alice explained. "My goal was to make the other mode non-lethal. I've done some testing and it is my belief that the Wraith stunner is more powerful than Intars, though in order to ensure that just one shot would incapacitate an average Wraith or Jaffa, I had to boost its capability even further."

Carter frowned. "I didn't think we had the capacity to reproduce the Wraith stunners in the first place, let alone boost them—how did you manage that?"

Alice's eyes flickered from the general's face to Mitchell and then Vala. She chose her words very carefully. "I've had a look at some research papers which gave me the basic idea." She then shifted her gaze back to Carter and their eyes met. The older officer raised an eyebrow a little bit, and Alice nodded infinitesimally.

She did see a research paper on Wraith stunners—in the future. It was part of a larger study into the possible large scale applications, an unfinished article among those she and Tom Sato had collected from the Pentagon. While the engineering details she had to figure out for herself, it gave her the scientific insight needed to complete the prototype.

Mitchell must have noticed the unspoken communication passing between them because his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"The stun capacity is not as accurate as normal bullets," Alice blurted out quickly, to distract him and preempt his questions. "It's got limited range, too, but at least it's incredibly easy to use. Just flick the switch there—" she demonstrated it one-handed "—and you're good to go. Flip back to use lethal ammo again."

"Can I?" Carter reached out and Alice placed the gun into her waiting hands. The general took a long look, then gripped it in the way she would in the field, finger on the trigger. She flipped the switch back and forth, and then nodded and passed the weapon onto Mitchell.

"It's a bit heavier than a normal P90," he noted.

"Just shy of 3.7 kilo with full magazine," Alice confirmed. "About the same as an M16A1. I may be able to reduce the weight further with some tweaks to the materials, though, maybe a trinium alloy to make some of its parts lighter and even more durable, especially the generator casing."

Mitchell passed the gun to Vala. The woman only took one glance, then hopped off the table, turned and flicked the switch.

"Don't…!" Mitchell started, but she was too quick. She raised it to her eye and fired at a test dummy that stood about ten feet away. A faded ray of blue light burst from the barrel and caught the dummy right in the torso; it looked like the charge should've thrown it against the wall, or at least push off balance, but nothing happened—the flash merely condensed in one spot for a fraction of a second and then disappeared.

"It's not working," Vala pronounced, dropping the gun onto the table. Alice reached out to catch it before it clattered on the hard metal.

"It did exactly what it was supposed to," Alice contradicted, a little put off. "Like I said, it's neuron-impeding, you won't see an effect on an inanimate object." She gripped the weapon more securely, putting her finger on the trigger. She pivoted around to face the dummy, fired a couple quick stun blasts, fluidly flicked the switch and then shot a bunch of bullets, flipped back to stun mode and discharged again, all in the space of no more than two, maybe three seconds.

"Impressive," Carter praised. "Very fast, very convenient—but how do we know the stunner is working well unless we test it on a human subject?"

"I kinda already did," Alice admitted sheepishly, putting the gun back down. "While I was working on it, I accidentally stunned myself. Woke up almost an hour later on the floor of my lab. I'm fine," she added hastily, seeing Carter's dismay. "No after-effects, just like with an actual Wraith handblaster."

The general pursed her lips, her expression disgruntled, but didn't say anything.

"Cool, so I can do this?" Vala asked, reaching out for the gun again and turning it on Mitchell.

"Vala, no." Carter put her hand on the barrel and dragged it downwards before Vala had the chance to pull the trigger. Her voice was surprisingly patient, as if this was nothing she didn't expect. "We're gonna do it the right way. Major—" she looked at Alice, her palm still gripping the gun as if she thought Vala might still do something unwise "—I think the X-801 has tremendous potential, but we need much more testing—in the lab, and, later, in the field. Let's put together a testing plan with timelines, and please also write up a one-pager on the benefits this new invention could bring to our teams—I will need to include that in the budget." Her voice was a little sour when she said it, and Alice wondered if she was already sick of all the bureaucracy and politics that inevitably accompanied her new position. "You can start mobilizing the testing team, too—talk to Tracey Campbell at the Groom Lake, she's in charge of them, give her a heads up."

"Yes, ma'am," Alice replied and took the gun away from Vala. The woman looked at it a little wistfully and then shrugged.

"This was fun!" And then she grinned at Alice. "I can't wait for tonight's festivities!"

Alice fought the urge to roll her eyes. She'd invited the entire SG-1 (plus Carter and the SG-7's own Lieutenant Rodriguez) to come along to the bar, and in consequence couldn't get rid of Vala for the past two days. The alien was greatly overexcited at the opportunity, though Alice couldn't imagine why—Vala had had an apartment in town for a few years now, and maintained several friendships with people outside the SGC, as far as Alice knew, so it wasn't like a bar trip was a special event or anything. Still, she reacted with unmitigated delight, and it made Alice feel at the same time a little awkward and kinda pleased. The fact that everyone accepted her invitation was also nice.

A few hours later, when Alice made it to the bar—the last to arrive—they were congregated outside, looking very incongruous in their casual wear; Alice was used to seeing them in uniform. Rodriguez looked a little overwhelmed and self-conscious as he stood among the SGC legends, and threw Alice a relieved glance when she joined them. She quickly herded them inside and immediately spotted the Army group around one of the tables. It was smaller than last week—only three people: Lieutenant Colonel Andersen and Majors Cho and Hale. They all stood up when the SGC crowd approached them. Alice made a quick presentation and they crowded around the table. The server came shortly after that and they gave their orders.

"This is one expensive bet," Andersen commented lightheartedly as the server walked away.

"Yeah, well, I would never bet against that one," Mitchell agreed, grinning and pointing at Alice with his thumb. "She's a sneaky little thing."

Alice frowned, a little surprised to hear that assessment—even made in jest. She didn't know Mitchell very well, although since her team had rescued SG-1 from Wael's Jaffa, they'd crossed paths a number of times, both offworld and on the base.

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir," she protested, matching his tone. "I'm an open book!"

Mitchell chuckled, but it was Jackson who replied, his tone a little too pensive for the overall mood.

"Yeah, you used to be, Alice—not anymore, though. You've changed a lot in the last three years or so."

Alice felt her cheeks warm up with a blush and decided to redirect the conversation to some other path. "Besides, I'm not that little—Jennifer is almost my height." She gestured at Hailey.

"Half an inch taller—I don't often get to boast about my height. Feels nice." Hailey grinned back at Alice.

"And I bet she could kick your ass, too, Cho," Alice added with a mocking smirk.

"I am not making any more bets," Andersen interjected quickly, eliciting a bout of laughter at the table. Alice noted that his hand was no longer in a splint, and she wondered if it had been a ruse to pit her against someone more likely to win. It seemed probable—but then again, if the wrist had been only mildly sprained, it could've healed up already.

The conversation flowed easily around her. The group spontaneously split into three distinct sub-groups; it was easier to talk this way. The subjects were kept light and the borders between Army and Air Force (along with the two civilians) blurred as the drinks kept coming. Alice noted that Carter, Hailey and Jackson all skipped a couple rounds, while the others opted for beers rather than harder liquor—all except Vala who delighted in ordering a different drink each round. Alice maintained the same order of vodka martini each time, forgetting that her head wasn't strong enough to keep up. As long as she sat in her place it was okay—she was mostly listening anyway. But then the group started breaking up; first Carter said goodbye, then Jackson dragged Vala away, then Hailey left and Mitchell not long after her. Rodriguez stayed a little while longer, but soon he, too, excused himself and made an exit. Alice figured it was time for her to move, too, but at this point she was finding it a little difficult to get up to her feet. Finally, she staggered off her seat and stood up, teetering a little.

"Oops!" She exclaimed and giggled. Part of her was horrified at the spectacle she was making of herself, but the larger chunk of her mind was pleasantly numb. She said a cheerful goodbye to the soldiers and stumbled away and out of the bar. She barely noticed that someone followed her.

She stood close to the entrance, fumbling with her phone, trying to call a cab, but her vision was strangely blurry. The air was much cooler than it had been during the day, and it helped a little; she didn't manage to select the number, though, before someone snatched the phone out of her hands.

"Let me help you with that."

She looked up at the man who spoke and for a moment didn't recognize him—mostly because of the alcohol-induced dizzy fog veiling her eyes; but also because his smile was uncharacteristically lewd.

"It seems that you've had one too many," Cho said, spinning her phone between his fingers. The quick movement was hard to follow and it made her feel a little sick. "Not to worry, though, I'll take care of you."

"I do not need to be taken care of!" She protested, and recognized that her own words were a bit slurred, but hopefully distinct enough to be understood. "You think you're so chivy… chivlar… you're not a white knight, you know?" She raised her hand and jabbed her index finger into his chest, accentuating a few words at random. "You shouldn't have let me win, either!"

He laughed quietly, putting her phone into his back pocket. "Why would you think I did?"

"Oh, please!" She threw her hands up. That distant, sober part of her mind observed sourly that she was acting more like Deanna than herself at the moment, but the drunk majority was having too much fun to care. "You think I'm stupid? You threw the last round! I'm good, but I'm not good enough to beat a guy like you, not that fast! You didn't even touch me!"

"Well, I don't like hitting women," Cho replied and stepped closer to her. "I can touch you now, though, to make up for it…"

A belated alarm bell rang in Alice's head, but before she could react, he was already grabbing her shoulders tightly, pushing her against the wall, his face coming down to kiss her. She struggled, weak with surprise and booze, and he noticed; he pulled away and looked at her, his eyes looking a little wild.

"Come on, I know you want it," he rasped, his voice suddenly rough. He was pressing onto her with his entire body and Alice could feel the evidence of his excitement against her thigh. "I let you win, let you save your face—you owe me now." And then he leaned in again, crushing her lips with his.

Alice reacted instinctively. She could not move her head out of the way, and couldn't get her hands free of his iron-clad hold, so she did the only thing available to her: she swung her knee up, and her aim was true. The kick lacked for strength, but it was enough. Cho jumped back, his hands flying to his crotch as he cursed loudly. Alice breathed heavily, but stayed in her place, glued to the wall, leaning on it for balance—her head was swimming, though she felt much more alert, the adrenaline temporarily lifting some of the effects of the alcohol. She would've tried to take off, except Cho still had her phone and she was unwilling to leave it with him.

"You bitch!" He cried, launching himself at her again, but she was ready this time: she pushed herself off the wall, twisted under his arms, and hit him from behind, so that he went head-first onto the ground. And then a violent dizzy spell hit her and she ended up stumbling to the pavement, too. She would've laughed at her own clumsiness—if she weren't so scared.

Cho was up before she managed to scramble to her feet. He turned, leaned over her, yanked at her hand, pulling her upright and twisting at the same time, so that she landed in his arms, her back against his chest. His arms locked around her like iron rings, and no amount of her thrashing around was enough to let her free.

"Be a good girl now and stop struggling!" He growled into her ear and started dragging her towards the side of the building, away from the bar entrance and any possibility of encountering people who might help her. Panic shot through her body and she fought him harder, but it had no effect on him; he merely started panting as he continued to haul her along the wall.

And then she remembered that she had a voice, too, and started screaming, calling for help.

Nobody came.

He pushed her onto the ground as soon as they were around the corner, out of view; behind them, there was a high chain link fence on one side and a few empty cars on the other. Before she could do anything, he punched her chest hard, knocking the wind out of her, and then held her in place, his knees pinning her legs down, both of her hands in his left as he worked to get his belt off with his right. Alice continued to struggle, and she saw that it was angering him; he was growing more and more frustrated, fumbling with the buckle. She saw an opening—stopped moving for a moment, making him look up in surprise, and then she moved her hips up under him, throwing all her strength into it, pushing him forward; he didn't let go of her, but had to scramble to lean on his right hand as well, and his arms were pointed down at a steep angle as he worked to stabilize himself to avoid falling forward. One violent tug was enough to free both her hands, and then she climbed upwards, hugging him so that he was unable to punch her again. Grabbing his shoulder, she threw her hole weight to the side, helping herself with a push of her legs, and they both rolled, Alice landing on top of him now; she quickly followed with an elbow to his solar plexus, and then tried to disengage; but he managed to grab her other hand and kept hold of it even as he flinched with pain. And then, suddenly, a ray of light swept their struggling figures and loud voices were shouting for them to freeze.

Cho let go of her hand and the suddenness of it made her lose balance and she fell backward gracelessly, landing on her side and then rolling onto her back. Pain shot through her body as the force of the fall put pressure on her still-tender shoulder in the place where a Wraith claw had cut her four months earlier—and forty years in the future.

"Don't move! Get up, both of you, hands where I can see them!" A rough male voice called. Alice complied with a grimace, a little wobbly as she stood up and put her hands up.

"She's crazy!" Cho exclaimed loudly from her right, though Alice could hardly see him—she was blinded by the searching flashlight as the policemen approached them. "She threw herself at me for no reason!"

Alice seethed and very nearly snarled at him, turning her whole body and curling into a more protective position instinctively, though she kept her hands up. "That's a lie!" She protested heatedly. "He assaulted me!"

"Calm down, both of you, or I'll have you both arrested!" One of the policemen said. "Either of you have any weapons?"

"Not on me, no," Alice replied. Her Glock had stayed in the glove compartment of her car.

"Yes," Cho added reluctantly, and Alice felt a little shiver go up her spine; if he hadn't been so convinced he would be able to subdue her without it, she might've already been dead. "It's in a holster on my calf. I have a permit."

The policeman who spoke—an older man, around fifty, if Alice had to guess, with white hair and a bit of a beer belly—nodded at his younger colleague. He was maybe Alice's age, short and muscled; he stepped up to Cho, removed the gun from the holster, and then patted him down for good measure. Then he moved on to Alice, though she noted her pat-down was a bit less thorough.

"Okay, you can put your hands down, now. If you've calmed down enough, can you please explain what happened here?" The older officer asked as the younger one brought out a little notepad and started scribbling furiously.

"She jumped at me, I just defended myself!" Cho complained immediately, throwing her a weird look—angry, she thought, mostly, but also perhaps a little disappointed?

"You fucking asshole, you tried to rape me!" She cried, her voice rising an octave in fury. She made a little step towards him and then stopped dead when the policeman raised his hand in warning. "He fucking dragged me from the entrance to the bar all the way here!" Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she started feeling weak and a little nauseous. All the consumed alcohol was coming back with a vengeance. She swayed a bit; she fought it by planting her feet a little more apart, steadying herself, but both officers noticed.

"This is not helpful," the older one said. "Let's get back to the station. We'll let you sober up a little and then we'll talk."

The younger one took out his radio and told dispatch to send another patrol to canvass for witness statements or any possible security cameras while the older one closed the distance to Cho first and handcuffed him—in the front, though, not in the back. His partner then stepped to Alice and did the same to her. Then they led them to their car where they had to ride together in the back.

Alice didn't speak, or even look at Cho the whole short ride. For one, she didn't want to think about how close it had been, but she was also struggling with her own stomach, the movement of the car not helping a bit. She felt relieved when they reached the station and were escorted into separate holding cells.