DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the SG characters. Never have or things would've gone differently in various instances. However original characters are mine. I do not own this Alternate Universe nor did I come up with its initial concepts concepts, Geonn and his story 'First Prime' do AND I have expressed permission from said author to continue/allow this sequel and any other continuations within this AU to be presented as they are written by myself. Also the song "Where is Your Heart" and its lyrics don't belong to me Kelly Clarkson sings it. (but my god do they fit into the end) Characters in their original depiction belong to MGM Global Holdings Inc… I'm just playing with them. *grin*
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, the original concept of this AU certainly is anything but mine. In fact the AU and it's origins belong to one Geonn. Geonn's original ideal was as follows: "During the second mission of the SGC Sam was left behind. What did she do to survive, what will she sacrifice to go back?" Now for my own ramblings. I originally ran into the telling of 'First Prime' via HowlsThunder's extraordinary art/web site depicting Janet and Sam… namely Samantha as Apophis' first prime. Once I saw the images I knew immediately I had to find the inspiration behind the pictures. They say a picture is worth a thousand words…in this instance Geonn managed 37,567 of them. I in NO way claim this universe as it was originally conceived as my own, in truth I came up with 'Second Prime' because my brain wouldn't let go of certain ideas concerning this first prime like Samantha Carter. This seriously took on a whole internal mind of it's own. Like the FP AU as according to my brain. I mean shoot I've got pictures, I've got 'casting' and even a friggin' episodic theme song over here. Apparently my brain wraps around things and comes up with 'events' as opposed to minor inspirations. Succinctly, the content (outside of the pre-established) belongs to me. IE: original characters and over all transpiring situations etc. Thanks and hopefully it can be enjoyed as opposed to flamed. To me it's like an AU inside an AU inside a show that doesn't belong to any of us but manages to inspire such wonderful literary, and visual creations. Thanks to Geonn I've been blessed to post this. Were it not for their approval this would merely fester on my own laptop for my benefit. Enjoy.
SPOILERS: A lot… Up to season 7 post Death Knell. Story takes place around and in the midst of "Heroes".
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.


Second Prime: Heroes
By Angara


Part Two

Control Room

Hammond was standing amidst the 'towers' occupants, including the Major and Samantha. The latter of which was still receiving looks from some of the surrounding personnel. "Colonel Dixon, this is General Hammond. We have reason to believe the Goa`uld probe sent out a transmission prior to your disabling of it. I'm ordering you to return to Stargate Command immediately." His voice was stern, no more than a glance sent Raina's way as they all held their breath for the reply.

Colonel Dixon stood amidst the thicket of surrounding foliage, fingertips of his left hand pressed to the device nestled in his ear. "Roger that sir... E.T.A. 15 minutes. Dixon out."

With a hefty wave the Colonel motioned towards Balinsky, "Pack it up Doctor we're going home!" A minute later and he was back to his radio, "Wells. Bosworth…"

Quarter mile out Wells shot a look up towards his temporary station post near the gate, halting his and Bosworth's area sweep. "Wells here…"

"Bring it home boys, we're booking out."

"Roger that sir. Wells out."

With a smirk and a turn both men started back towards the gate, "About time." All Bosworth could remember next was the amber glow that broke through the tree line and his body turning to fire on instinct. Wells had gone down with hardly a noise. "Taking fire! Repeat! Hostiles! Wells is hit!"

The sound of staff blasts and rounds of an MP90 littered the radios as well as the surround area. "Get to the gate!" Balinsky didn't need to be told twice, both he and the Colonel were making a run for it. "SG niner, requesting assistance!!"

Hammond stood amid his shock riddled command center, everyone seemed frozen as the crackle of MP90's and Jaffa weapons blasts made up a sickening harmony to the shouting voices of SG-13. After a beat the general broke through, "Alright let's go! I want all available SG teams to gear up and head out led by SG-1, and counter point by SG teams three and seven." Alarms blared to life, red spilled across the entirety of the S.G.C. while the command went over the P.A.

"George…" It was Samantha, and he stiffened at her tone. Jaw shifting, his typical stance taken and even Raina had to blink when the General turned at the mention of his first name.

Her voice was determination made audible. "Let me help." Whether he accepted it or not it really didn't matter, they had no reason to truly hold her. Keep her from going Earth side sure, but they had no right to keep her out of a war she herself had been fighting along side them in the shadows of space all these years.

The general surveyed the woman who stood before him, proud and unrelenting in her gaze and posture. She was a true warrior, forged from a darkness that knew no bounds. "Major Stallard," The woman came to stand at near full attention, though the general's gaze never drifted from Samantha. "You will retrieve Sahar's Jaffa weapons, offer them one of the new vests and add them to SG-1's detail."

"What of Colonel O'Neill sir?" She didn't want to argue but she severely doubted her CO would go along so easily.

"He'll take command lead of all SG teams on site, you'll lead SG-1. She's yours to do as you see fit solider. Now move out!"

The air force appointed camera crew stood with veneration as a completely geared up SG-1 led by Major Stallard and flanked by the trio of Jaffa Kresh'ta made their way along the corridor.

Daniel was the first to speak as they passed, a dark feeling of trepidation spilling over him. "It's all because I wanted an aerial survey."

"It took me too long to work out the probe sent a transmission." Raina offered in that 'I got a bad feeling about this' timbre.

Both were silenced by Samantha behind them. "None of that matters now."

It was like a movie, none of it was really happening. At least that's what the camera crew kept trying to convince themselves of as they stared openly down the hall at the disappearing team.

"C'mon guys… what's…" Bregman turned towards his crew, "C'mon, c'mon!" He was rushing after the practical flood of green camo, that comprised half if not all of the SG units. A sudden mix of medical equipment stretched over three layered hand gurney's and the medical personnel to go with it nearly dropped the man.

It was the vision of a combat encased Doctor Fraiser that finally slowed his heady rush to get into the Gate room. "C'm- Fraiser?"

Fraiser was slinging the last of her medi-pack over her shoulder, Bregman's form was caught out of the corner of her eye but only registered when he spoke her name. She didn't stop, blazing a trail towards the gate room with a wave towards the crew and Emmett. "Sorry. I have to go."

By the time the medical teams arrived the gate was being over run by the fly-by's of Peltac's. Officers backpedaled across the semi-open field, ducking and glancing staff blows for cover amidst the ruins near the gate itself. The scene was no less than a war zone, complete with a symphony of zat, gun and staff blasts from all sides. There was a crescendo of glider engines followed by the spray of multiple MP90's before another lattice of staff weapons fire fell on their position sending dirt, rubble and broken bodies, both human and Jaffa alike, into the air.

With a shout and a hand-signaled command, the advancing SG-7 team fell into place amidst fallen rock and limbers, with O'Neill's fire their cover before the Colonel settled into position near Dixon.

Jaffa were practically pouring onto the field around them, spilling through the wake of trees and cascading between the crevices in order to quell the Tau`ri surrounding the gate.

"Hi Jack…" Dixon started with a mock grin, "Thanks for coming!" He peered over the lip of the rock he was behind, sending a short wave of gun fire at oncoming Jaffa, felling two.

"You said there was six Jaffa!" O'Neill practically spat the words, dropping a third Jaffa to the dirt. "Where did you learn to count?!"

From his place behind a nearby ridge, Shan`dr rose out, his staff charged full before rending another set of Jaffa to the ground. Dixon stared wide eyed at the hulk of a guy, "They're with us!?"

Jack twisted to look at Shan`dr who, with all the respect he could muster, bowed his features to the Colonel. He might not be fond of the outcast's leader but that didn't have to bleed over onto the rest of them.

Something snapped in O'Neill then, like the band of guilt that'd slowly been killing him finally broke, or at least eased up enough for him to breathe normally. He offered a salute back before twisting his attention to Dixon. "Yeah…secret weapon!" A web of bullets shot out from Jonas's position close by, splitting another Jaffa in half and clipping his backup across the leg. There was a high screech, the typical signal of a Pel'tac coming by for another shot.

"Ships didn't start coming down till it radioed you were through the gate!" It was like taking pot shots now, sporadically Dixon would fell a Jaffa, Shan`dr another and then Jack at the rear.

"Something tells me they're throwing this party in your honor Jack!" Dixon peered over again, sending another short round of bullets towards the tree line before his gun clicked empty. "Got those clips!?"

"So sorry to have crawled up their snake headed asses!!" Came the retort, as Jack fished out the spares.

Static clicked on the radio, pulling O'Neill's attention as he ducked back behind the rock edge. "Colonel O'Neill, our position is being compromised! They're like cockroaches! We're not gonna be able to hole the gate for long." The Major's voice was clouded with heavy fire, most of it staff weapons.

With a twist, O'Neill set his back to the fray, trusting those around him to keep his position clear. "It doesn't matter we're not gonna be able to hold this position for that long. " The rock near his face burst in a white cloud of hot stone and with a yell Jack twisted back around to fire.

"Colonel!" Fraiser's voice came through, pulling Samantha's attention. "Colonel I need more time to stabilize this patient, he can't be moved yet." There was a desperation in her voice. O'Neill knew it too well. He'd heard it before concerning his own team. Someone was dying, and Janet was going to do everything she could to prevent that.

Raina came over the radio again, she and the rest of SG-1 had tried to take the left flank and only found themselves separated and pinned down. "Sir we've got to fall back!" There was a shout and a burst of MP weapons fire from her position before the radio slacked. "EVERYBODY DOWN!" The shout came in voice and radio alike before the 'fwoomp' of a grenade launcher stirred the air.

Out of the corner of his eye O'Neill caught the movement of Jaffa that'd broken the line to his left. That's where the rest of his personnel and the injured were. Gripping his weapon Jack pushed himself up to chase the figure down, the staff weapon was seen only after he felt it hit along with the jostled weight of someone much heavier rolling on and then over him. Smoke writhed like a snake from the twin bodies lying prone on the ground as the world itself seemed to slip into a distorted slow motion.

Jonas was up then, Jack's name nearly torn from his throat as the older man fell in his hurry to get to him. Dixon twisted over, shouting as well before turning his anger towards the next wave of Jaffa in a clip line of bullets. Jack felt the ground and the darkness start to surround him, the weight of someone else lingering over his injured body like a human shield as just beyond him another Pel'tac came around for another shot. Eyes shut not moving, Shan`dr rose from his place over the fallen man with a great bellow, the panels of his jackal headed mask rippling to life at the sound. His voice was like a thunder rolling over an open field, a sound that not only spurred the surrounding SG members but stilled a few of the Jaffa, an action that cost them all dearly. Dark amber bolts forced into their highest capacity split through the air amidst a tirade of SG-team gunfire, leveling Jaffa before they had a chance to break the tree-line.

Jonas could only skid along the gravel and grass as he fell beside O'Neill, the man still wasn't moving and the smoke continued to rise from his body, blood pooled nearby. A thick ruddy color marred with veins of gold from the former prime of Anubis, his side gaping from the shared wound whose brunt had been released on O'Neill.

"O'Neill's down! Multiple casualties! Fall back!" There was another burst of gunfire followed by a secondary frantic shout. "Fall back!" Dixon's voice broke hard over the radio, the weight of his words damn near close to a cinderblock being thrown against the chest.

Raina rolled over onto her stomach, still crawling in the ground with the aid of Asherah. Samantha had split off from them, doubling back towards the medical personnel it seemed, even though Daniel had gone with Janet as soon as she called for back up.

Jonas had been with them, as had Shan`dr, but when the three women had managed to practically jump, dive and roll for cover their team had been split. It was either wait to get cut from above or continue trying to flank the Jaffa forces through the trees. Having gotten caught in the middle, the threesome had opted for the tree line while the guys had stayed closer to the core group near the gate.

If Raina and Asherah could manage to get behind the Jaffa, even slightly, they might be able to buy Janet more time to get the wounded out. With any luck they wouldn't be adding to that compliment.

Now their commanding officer was down, their foothold was breaking apart, and the Jaffa were going to literally consume them. Raina hauled herself up, side stepping parallel to the tree line as she let loose on her MP, tearing up foliage and hopefully Jaffa alike.

Just a few more feet and she'd have the cover of trees again, but when she saw the head of the staff break from an unseen spot on the forest floor Raina's eyes went wide. Her vision blurred with bronze and blonde before the uneven ground tore into her back and forced all the air from her lungs. With a strangled gasp she choked for air, her lungs filled with the acrid scent of burning skin and melted hair fused with the tangy taste of metal. She saw the shadow over her, the bronze skull cap of a Jaffa as he spun his staff around with the intent of cracking her head open like a walnut. With a choke she grappled at the living shield sprawled over her body, fingers curling around a zat gun that she fired into the Jaffa's leg.

His body arced with the force of the blast, mud and moss soaked armor clinking together and with another shot she ended it.

There was a groan at her ear, pained and barely strong enough to break past the lips that were wet with blood and staining her throat. Her abdomen felt warm, like hot water spreading over her clothes. Raina's free arm curled, surrounding a solid waist until hands slipped into the broken recess of Asherah's back. "No.." she whispered, feeling the other woman beginning to still. "No..!"

"I had a vest on! You bitch…!" Raina grappled at the broken woman sprawled against her own prone body, the instant shard of pain that bit through her upper torso gave way to the truth of her broken ribs. "Why did you do that!? It would've worked! I would've been okay!" Raina was practically screaming, trying to haul herself and the renegade Jaffa woman up from the ground. "This is Stallard… one of our Jaffa's been hit. I need a medic!"

She felt so tiny then, surrounded by gunfire and Jaffa staff blasts, gliders still circling like vultures above them all. Her radio crackled in her ear. "I need a medic." Her echoed words had Daniel's voice. "Fraiser's been hit I need a medic!! Sierra gulf niner.. Argh!! I need a medic!"

Raina gripped the zat in her off hand, her boots digging in the dirt as she pushed her way across the ground… tears streaming freely down her face, blood soaking her body… it was like the whole world was collapsing around them.

Gate room

The S.G.C. was unusually quiet, but there was such an edge to everyone around that it was as if they were all balancing on a razor. At the moment Bregman was being shown practically everything about town by Davis, his film crew recording all the mindless babble.

There was a soft grinding sound, followed by a burst of energy and a ring of smoke as the Gate came to life, the red light of the chevron glaring out over the room like the eye of the devil himself.

"INCOMING WORMHOLE." Davis shouted, it was really his only job.

Bregman glanced around, confused. "What does that mean?"

"We're gonna have to leave now." The command presence of their escort bit down but Emmett ignored it. "No… no, keep shooting!"

Respectfully the assigned cameraman lowered the camera "I can't do that sir." Only to have it grabbed from him. "I can do it."

Hammond's voice echoed about a thousand fold across the gate room. "Remove that camera crew. Now!!" Immediately there after a proverbial sea of airmen, soldiers and MP's fell into place in a pressing circle around Bregman.

The static of radio broke across all ears, "We are under fire and have serious casualties!" It was Jonas, quickly followed by a groaning Dixon. "We're coming in hot."

"Receiving SG-13's iris code sir." His voice was a little off, he'd been expecting SG-1's code; finally the blast doors fell into place blocking out the camera crew.

"Open the Iris." The metal peeled back and a wave of SG members, including Daniel broke through the pool of the event horizon. "Medical team to the gate room!"

Bregman stood out in the hall, camera pointed towards the ground until the sound of the blast doors being lifted forced the man to pull the camera up. The sight garish, a whirlwind of conversation both in comment and medical command began to fill the corridor as a gurney rushed passed those present.

"Clear this area." There would be no arguing, with a narrowing gaze the officer reached forward, flicking the camera 'off'.

"Sorry about that. " Seeing the bustle and noise Emmett merely threw the camera at its previous handler. "Here take the damn thing..."

"In the future sir… could you leave the camera work to me?" The air force officer's words could've bitten Bregman's head off. However the little man was still peering around the corridor's edge with the hope of getting more footage.

"Ye`alright. I'll leave it to you."

The sight should've turned the man's stomach, instead it made him smile. Samantha Carter, a woman he only knew as Sahar, broke around the corner's edge at a rushed pace, the fallen frame of someone Bregman couldn't make out cradled in her arms. She was escorted by two MP's and practically being chased by the medical technicians bound to her by iv tubes and a oxygen bag that fed into the body in her grasp.

"Okay, here, I'll leave it to you, here she comes..." Bregman pointed to Dale, "You. Turn it on, lets go." All he got was a glance up from the camera man towards their assigned escort.

"Don't look at him we're cleared to shoot here! Just follow me!" With the zeal of a child in a candy store Bregman rushed towards Sam, attempting to bar her, and the group surrounding her from continuing. "Bring the sound. You! Tell us what happened!"

Before he could make it within five feet of her another officer grabbed the man from behind and threw him into the far wall. "Get out of her way." It was Jonas, teeth gritted together enough to make the veins in his neck pop out. "Please." He forced the words out, the evidence of their ordeal on his face, on his hands, even streaking across Bregman's shirt where he grasped.

Samantha disappeared towards the medical sector, forgotten as soon as Jonas let Bregman go. "Ease up there buddy... I'm allowed to film here." Jonas shoved him hard, only to be yanked back before he could do anything more by the director's escort.

The young man was quickly forgotten as soon as Major Stallard started down the corridor, flanked by another pair of MP's. She was covered from neck to waist in blood veined with gold, bloody kisses were on the left of her neck and her arms held close to her ribs. Stained hands wrapped around one another at the base of her throat in white knuckled fists.

"Now I know that at least one person was injured back there." Bregman started, zeroing in on the Major. "Major… Major Stallard... can you tell us what happened?"

Her dirt and blood streaked expression was made clean with the small rivulets that poured from her eyes. "Stop it..." she growled, glaring at the man even as he continued. "And all I want to say is…"

"...Leave me ALONE!!" Her voice became feral, raised enough to shake the concrete foundation and warped into a growl of physical anguish as if she were speaking with the aid of diamond laced sand paper. The blinking red light only fueled her anger. "Shut that damn thing off!"

Immediately the man behind it complied, practically dropping the object as if it'd burned him in the rush to do so.

With more determination than brains Bregman followed after her, until a virtual wall of MP's stopped him, wrapping arms beneath his to keep the man from going further. "Look I just want to say how sorry I am!"

With a small shove the officers released him, his gaze flickering between them before glancing back at his camera man at the small 'click' of the light atop the machine being switched off.

"Why is that camera off? You don't know what you're doing here, maybe I know what I'm doing here. These people are risking there lives for us. I want to see what they're going through even if they don't want us to..." He was yelling, not only for his benefit but for the hopes that those beyond the human barricade could hear him. "And I want other people to see it. What do you think they're doing out there?! Protecting and defending secrecy!! That a word of mal and Stallone and secret police, secret trials… secret… secret deaths!" He stammered, looking at the crowd starting to gather.

"You force the press into the cold and all you will get is lies and innuendo and nothing!" He warned, as if he was suddenly charged with being the harbinger of truth. "Nothing is worse for a free society than a press that is in service to the… to the military and the politicians! Nothing!" Bergman turned his anger on the cameraman. "You turn that camera off when I tell you to turn it off." Another glance and he turned on the surrounded crowd again. "You think I give a damn what you think about me!? You serve the people……So do I!"

Bregman pushed pass the small mass, letting his words die in the hall, disappearing into the silence of astonished bystanders. A beat passed before his crew broke off and followed after him.

General Hammond's Office

Three Days Later

With a knock on his door Hammond was pulled from the inner demons of his thoughts. Everything had gone so wrong so fast.

Hammond rose from his seat at the opening of the door, his aide was soon followed by Mr. Woolsey from NID.

"General." The man got right down to business, handing the general a file folder.

Hammond didn't bother glancing at the contents, is gaze leveling on Woolsey. "I already know these orders originated from Senator Kinsey's office. Why don't you tell me the rest."

"Very well." The man gripped the handle of his briefcase with both hands, forming a 'v' over his chest. "As chairmen of the intelligence oversight committee, Senator Kinsey has asked that I review your command decision regarding the recent attempted rescue of SG-13 and the involvement of "renegades" in such an operation."

The general's gaze narrowed dangerously, he didn't like being threatened, especially in his own office. "Attempted?"

"As I understand it there were several casualties sir. I'd hardly call it a success."

"My command decisions are reviewed by the chief of staff of the air force and the president of the United States. As of yet I haven't even filed a preliminary mission report. When I do you are welcome to read it."

Mr. Woolsey feigned a smile, slight and agitated at best, before adjusting his glasses slightly. "I have been authorized to begin a full investigation into the matter as part of a larger examination of SGC's strategic policy that the

committee is preparing for the president. I have enclosed a list of individual interviews I will be conducting and materials I will require. I expect your full co-operation." Without so much as a breath the man had turned and was in the hall by the time Hammond heard his rank uttered in condescending fashion. "General."

Hammond waited until his aide shut the door before throwing the file folder across the room into the wall. He could feel his blood pressure rising fast enough to kill an elephant, his neck was hot and his face was burning all the way up into his non-existent hairline.

In all of his long years in the SGC he'd never felt the need to hit someone so hard until now.

Interrogation Room

Mr. Woolsey sat alone in the small room, running over the files in his grasp. Not bothering to look up as the door opened. "Have a seat Major. Let me explain why I'm here." He started, an arrogant, almost cocky edge claiming his movements, and Raina wasn't biting.

"I know why you're here." She drawled, taking her seat seconds before the man hit 'record' on the video camera nestled in the very center of the table.

"I believe…" he started, the man was a subtle as a shark in open water. "Classified military operations require oversight."

"This isn't the first time we've been scrutinized by the NID." She stated in the same flat tone.

"I know the stakes around here are always high, but there were serious casualties in this instance." Oh goodie, he is playing the 'buddy buddy I understand where you're coming from' card. She thought to herself. As he continued, his tone only made Raina frown, tears starting burning the back of her eyes. "Someone of great value to this program is dead."

"Where were you the first time… or the second… or all the other times before now." She bit at him with her voice, dark rimmed eyes leveling on the thin man. "I know someone is dead… and don't you dare think anyone is taking it lightly."

The man feigned another grin, this was good, and so quick too. "You're a seasoned combat officer and this is not the first time you have lost a close colleague." His tone was aloof, his task at pouring himself a glass of water accomplished he continued. "And I doubt it will be the last. I just want to make sure that it wasn't…" he let the word hand on his lips, closing in on his prey. "Avoidable in this case, despite what you might think, the only reason I'm here is to get the truth."

Raina didn't flinch; she didn't even blink for that matter. "Did you have a question?"

"Oh yes a few… what made you think it," his target was Daniel Jackson now, circling about the man slowly… "was safe for SG-13 to remain on the planet?"

Daniel reached forward, setting both hands on the lip of his chair between his knees, back arcing tensely with the posture. "It's not really my call."

Woolsey continued around the table, focus back on Raina. "But you thought it was worth risking the lives of an SG team, to get an aerial survey of these ruins?"

His voice was sickly sweet and it made the woman want to vomit. She resisted the urge to pull a leg up onto the chair with her and merely sat back, careful of her ribs. "The device was damaged, it took a while to get a proper interface and the memory crystal contained an enormous amount of information."

"So you would have me believe that this was an acceptable risk?" He pivoted then, back on Daniel.

"This is what we do."

"Make bad decisions." Woolsey confirmed, his gait stopping mid-movement to study his target.

Jonas looked up at the man with a glare, arms crossed over his chest tightly. "Yeah it's easy to predict the score when the game is over, and if we had found powerful weapons in those ruins capable of defending the planet from the Goa`uld, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Woolsey continued after a small shift of his glasses across the bridge of his nose. "But you didn't and we are." Daniel nodded, his grip on the chair tightening. "The fact is if there had been powerful weapons in those ruins they would now be in the hands of the Goa`uld. The fact is that this mission was botched from the beginning to the end." Woolsey pressed, waiting for the proper response.

Raina shifted, slipping an arm around the jut of the chair back. "We don't just leave people behind. You can't ask airmen, soldiers, human beings to risk their lives without backup, without knowing that we would be there for them."

With another sadistic lilt the thin man continued. "You yourself have been asked to go into combat where you knew there was no back up. That is always a possibility on any mission through the Stargate is it not?" Raina could only glare at him. If looks could kill he would've dropped on the spot without another word. "And please Major, none of us like to admit it but we all know that there are military situations in which the life of one human being had to be considered an acceptable loss."

"That wasn't the case here." Daniel spat at him, his grip on the chair nearly causing the plastic to split.

"No in this case it was just dumb luck that there wasn't many more lives lost."

With a raised voice Jonas straightened forward. "I would say it was skill, training and fortitude."

Woolsey regarded the 'alien' in front of him with a mild detachment. "Based on your expertise in Goa`uld tactics, was it not reasonable to conclude that this was an ambush?" Samantha sat silently, hands resting in her lap, devoid of the claws at Hammonds' insistence. "While you are no longer an official member of our military and not eligible for court-martial," the man continued amidst the silence. "I shouldn't have to remind you that you were to answer to our terms and to us as your superiors."

"That's what I was doing, taking orders from my allies." She punched the word slightly but otherwise remained impassive in response.

He leaned forward then, a sinister intent latticing its way along his entire posture only to emanate from him in waves. "Don't think just because your existence as it stands here on Earth has been expunged with your 'death' that some of us can't make the remainder of that existence a living hell." His voice was barely above a whisper, features leant so close if she even breathed deeply she'd have the sickening displeasure of kissing him.

Without movement she spoke, her tone low, respectful, but condescending in its own fashion. "You'll gladly accept someone who's defected from their own home world where they're considered a terrorist…" her reference denoting Jonas and the files she'd read on him. "Rather than one of your own who had no choice in the matter and now offers a practical holy grail of aid without hesitation."

There was a slight tipping of her head as she watched the reactions of her statement wash over his features. With the knowledge of having successfully shut the man up she allowed no more than a faint upward tip of her brow, "Interesting."

She knew the speculations in her head had become solid fact with his silence and retreat, the look on his face only rooting those facts into stone. She was too valuable to them all now, enough for their government to placate her in contrast to her initial return to Earth and their treatment years ago. Instead of being tied down and locked up in some facility where they could run "tests" on her, they'd let her practically roam free.

"If you fail to testify here today," His voice regained it held a dangerous condemnation to it. Fingertips pressed into the table, supporting the man's weight as he leaned in towards Daniel. "I will have you jailed until such time that you do."

With no more than a glance Daniel picked up the mic, holding it a breath from his mouth. "You fire me. You throw me in jail... You do what you want." With a shove the scientist threw the mic across the table before pushing himself to a stand, the slam of the interrogation room door the only other sound.

Bosworth was crouched on the ground, half covering his fellow team mate, eyes frantically searching the surrounding tree line for movement, hopefully friendly movement. "It'll be alright Simon, hang in there alright buddy, we'll be home before you know it." The sound of gunfire pulled the man's head up, "OVER HERE!!"

He'd never seen a sight more lovely as Daniel Jackson and Doc Fraiser ran through the tree and down the embankment to their position. "Man down. Over here!" He called before turning to look back at Simon, "Hey man... they're here." As soon as the two began stripping their packs he ran a list of symptoms. "There's a lot of blood coming from underneath him. Caught'm in the front." Bosworth pushed from the ground then. "I'll cover you from the ridge." He gestured in the direction and took off to take point over the slapdash med-unit.

"I'm Doctor Janet Fraiser. Can you hear me?"

Wells let out a sharp gasp, her voice muffled what with his face pressed to the ground. Bosworth hadn't moved him for fear of spinal injury. "Y..yeah..." he started, taking in another pained breath. "Hurts so bad! I can't move... can't feel my legs! ... I think it went right thru me!" His words were disjointed and frantic. Shock was settling in.

Daniel tore open bits of his medi-pack, snapping tubes and bags into place. The one thing he needed was Wells' mind off the situation at hand. "What's your name?"

"Senior Airman Wells... Simon Wells ..." Panic gripped him again, the numbness that was creeping over his body really doing a number on him. "Am I gonna die? ..." He sucked in a choked gasp, half air and half dirt.

"Not if I have anything to do with it." Fraiser shot back reassuringly before looking over at Jackson. "Okay, we need to roll him over, and stop the bleeding ...OK?" Her attention turned back to Wells, "Hey Simon, you hanging in there?"

His moaned response was better than silence she guessed, setting compresses into place. "Okay... easy..." She glanced to Daniel again, "Alright on three. One ... two... three...!" The grunt from her effort went through the last number as Wells screamed out in pain in the midst of being flipped over.

Despite the faint tremble of his hands Daniel's voice was amazingly calm. "I'm Daniel Jackson…"

After a series of painful gasps that rattled even Janet, Wells' voice broke through clenched teeth. "I know, I know ... SG-1 ..." he groaned out while Daniel shared a slight look with Janet. "Okay Simon…you're gonna be fine..."

"Son of a bitch ... he came out of NOWHERE! Shot me in the back..." Another groan as Daniel massaged the IV bag connected to Wells' arm.

Daniel chanced another look at Janet, watching her prepare a series of instruments, "Hoh-kay… Let's talk about something else right now, Simon... What's going on at home right now?"

"My wife ... she's pregnant ..." he was writhing; the bandages and compresses at his wounds were starting to soak. Daniel couldn't help but keep his eyes on Janet, meanwhile trying to keep Wells' eyes and focus on himself. "Yeah?! This, uh ... this your first? ... Congratulations..."

A second later and the solider was reduced to a writhing stretch of screaming mass. Whatever Janet had done certainly had the desired effect. "That's good! At least you felt that!"

Their radios crackled to life, "Colonel O'Neill! Our position's been compromised! We're not gonna be able to hold the gate very long!" Janet heard various bouts of shouting as well as O'Neill's clear tone before responding. "Colonel!" She waited a beat, noting the static and extra voices cleared. "Colonel I need more time to stabilize this patient ... he can't be moved yet ...!"

"Shit…" Wells screamed again, this time in frustration. "You can't help me! Leave me!"

"Nobody is going anywhere ..." Fraiser soothed, basically trying to patchwork the guy back together enough to get him to the gate.

"I can't believe I'm not gonna see my son!"

"Simon hey! Ok, just stay focused, stay focused ..." He looked to the warmth of his hand, seeing it coated with red, seeping through the lines of his fingers he rambled on. "So, it ... it... it's a BOY you're ... gonna have??!"

Wells made a grab for Jackson then, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Tell me the truth ... I'm not gonna make it, right??"

Daniel moved his hands away at Janet's prodding, closing his hands around the IV bag and kneading insistently.

"Doctor Jackson ..." The airman's voice was reduced to panic and fear one only knew when they truly believed they were dying. "Please! Please! Just let me tell my wife! Let me tell my wife that ..." His frantic movements pulled at whatever patching Janet had done, forcing the man up and into a scream yet again.

Feeling helpless Daniel could only share another look with Janet, just give the word and they'd just haul the man up and run for the gate whether he lived or died. There was a beat, then another before Jackson broke "Ok, OK!"

Turning the IV bag to Janet, he began to rummage through his bag, suddenly recounting Bergman's words of capturing action before pulling out his camera.

"Got it ..." Fraiser reassured Daniel as she propped the IV bag up on her shoulder, her attention falling to the prone airman. "Breathe, Simon ... It's ok, Simon..."

Daniel opened the screen, twisting the body of the camera into the proper place.

The sudden resonance of another person's voice broke the recall of flashback that'd swept Daniel up. With a sharp turn his gaze leveled on Bergman. A callous movement had the Doctor up from his desk, grabbing at his camera from the far table, blood smudges and all. "I told you earlier: 'Now's not a good time.' What part of that didn't you understand?" Defensively Daniel nestled the camera on his desk before turning to look at Emmett.

The curly haired man could only stand and watch… revelation hitting him like a ton of bricks. "You got something on tape, didn't you?" His voice was scarcely above a whisper but it was enough to infuriate the scientist.

"Get out... Just... Get OUT!!!"

Jonas was in the SGC's gym, which was really just a secondary mess hall that'd been stripped, re-engineered and converted. His hands were bloody beneath his gloves, worn raw from the physical onslaught of taking the world out on the bag. He bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, dodging a ghost of an opponent, faceless and devoid of human sentiment.

"You're no use to us broken." The grovel of an emotion weathered voice ruined the man's concentration, halting his momentum mid-punch as he bounced a bit more on his feet prior to wrapping his hands on either side of the bag to still it.

"X-Box not fulfilling enough?"

Jonas let out a faint breath of a laugh, his smile born out of misery and pain rather than mirth at the jibe. "It doesn't have that 'real deal' charm." He drawled, backing up enough to take a few more swings at the bag again.

Raina slipped deeper inside the gym, removing her cloak of shadows in the process. She studied the lines of muscle in Jonas' body as they stretched and convulsed beneath the sheen of his skin. Evidence of his own clumsiness off world evident in the diminutive ribbons of welts and raspberry patches caused from gravel and broken tree limbs.

She circled him slowly, watching the bag as if it were another being, collapsing under the onslaught of the man's self inflicted punishment. If she timed it just right his elbow wouldn't catch her in the face. When the moment arose she stepped forward, the flat of her hand found the sinew of his back, stretched and worn taut to the point of snapping. She let her fingers lay between his shoulder blades as his punishment ended instantaneously, arms falling to his sides like a little boy defeated.

She let her fingers flex, rubbing in unobtrusive circles before she felt Jonas turn. The look in his eyes alone was one still asking for permission and her expression broke as a result. She instantly bit at her bottom lip, trying to stifle the ugliness of her crying as her shoulders lurched forward from contained sobs. Jonas stepped into her then, surrounding her with insipid arms and anesthetized hands.

It took a full minute before Raina's own arms lifted to loosely encircle his waist. One wrist was locked in the death grip of her other hand, her forehead pressed into the hollow spot where his neck met chest and he obliged her position by resting his chin atop the crown of her head.

"It'll be okay…" he whispered, his voice a low purr of a sound given their positions. "Eventually."

Interrogation room.

As soon as the door burst open Woolsey was rather close to getting a face full of file folder. Unluckily he'd caught it in time and merely required straightening the lines of his jacket.

"I've prepared a written testimony."

"This is your mission report." His response was calm and level.

"I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone." The general offered, straightening slowly.

"Well then." He collected the folder proper and stood. "I guess I'm done."

"Then you'll be leaving…" Hammond cautioned.

Woolsey had the intelligence not to smile. "The president will have my preliminary report by the end of the week."

"I'm sure it will be every bit as interesting as your memo on the economics of the SGC." Hammond tempted, studying the thin man before him.

"I won't bother asking how you got that."

"What was the dollar value you attributed to an SG team member?"

"You know damn well I wasn't pegging the value of a person's life." He waved the accusation off, "It is a cold hard fact that it costs millions of dollars to train these men and women and that is a fraction of the funds being subverted by the pentagon for this operation." He slipped the folder into his brief case, clicking it shut. "I think it is reprehensible that the tax payers of this country are paying enormous sums of money to wage a war they know nothing about and are getting little if anything in return." He slid the case off the table, again taking up the stance he'd had when first meeting Hammond. "If the Stargate's existence were public knowledge and your actions were being judged in the court of public opinion."

"You're the one suggesting that sending a rescue team worth 27 million dollars to save the life of one man is a bad business decision." Hammond pointed out darkly.

"You're putting words in my mouth." The man practically sing-songed the sentence.

"You said it in black and white and I don't think you would dare do such a thing if this wasn't a classified operation. The president has asked a documentary team to get to the truth of what is going on around here. Why don't we just go down and give them the whole truth as you see it, right now."

With a glare his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "That memo is classified, this investigation is classified, and if you so much as utter even a hint of either I'll see you are put away in a cold dark place for the rest of time." His threat in place the man shuffled past Hammond and slipped out.

"Ok you tell her yourself." The ruddy digital quality of the image phased on the television screen as Daniel's voice rang clear.

"Hey baby..." He choked, gasping painfully. "I'm so sorry about this... love you so much. " His words were coming through clenched teeth, pain spirally up the man's side. "God I just, I just wanted ahhhh ahhhhhhh!! Godohgod shut it off! Shut it off, I don't want her to see me die." The man was already in tears of pain, these were marred with anguish at the act he was allowing to transpire. "Please god."

Janet leaned over him, slightly obscuring Wells' face in order to pull the airman's attention. "Simon, Simon! Look at me! You are not going to die ok? I did not come all the way out here for nothing. Now we've stemmed the bleeding. We're gonna get you to a stretcher. We're going to get you home with your family in no time ok? Now you hang in there Airman!"

Wells was shaking but grateful for the verbal slap back into reality. "Yes Ma'am"

The radio crackled again "O'Neill's down! Multiple casualties! Fall back! Fall back!" Janet chanced a look at Daniel, both of them stricken with the news. Another spurt of radio static had Raina screaming. "…Stallard… one of our Jaffa's been hit. I need a medic!"

There was the sound of staff blast, and a scream from off camera, a bright flash of light shot past the screen, hitting Janet square in the chest with enough force to send her back with no repercussive sound.

"Oh god what happened?" Gunfire rained nearby, screams from Bosworth heard in the distance. "Is she hit?" Wells' voice was frantic; Fraiser was just outside his peripheral.

The screen shot wavered back on Janet, prone on her back, unmoving, eyes staring blankly out at the sky.



The screen jostled and bounced about as the camera was flung aside, propped up against Wells' injured body and in turn capturing a perfect dog's eye view…

Daniel allowed his eyes to close, blocking out the static infested images on the small television in front of him. Though the sounds were still present, luring him into another wave of recall...

"We're going to be overrun!" Bosworth was shouting, but Daniel could barely hear him. The world was moving to the pace of Janet's fading heartbeats.

Daniel grabbed his radio, his voice sounding sluggish to his own ears. "I need a medic, Fraiser's been hit. I need a medic!"

Wells' was screaming, "Is she ok? Daniel? Is Fraiser okay!?"

"Sierra Gulf Niner ... aargh! I need a medic!!" Daniel caught the glint of gold and silver as it rode over the tree line just beyond their position, they'd be overrun any minute. Wells was screaming in pain again, Bosworth having ripped him up from the ground, hauling him over a shoulder.

"I don't believe… in the smile that you leave… when you walk away… and say goodbye…"

Daniel was being pulled away, his collar like a tow line for limbs that refused to cooperate as the fallen body of Janet Fraiser remained on the ground ahead of him, growing farther and farther away by the second.

Daniel turned then, just as the wave of gold swept over the crest where they'd just been moments before, where Janet's body still lay. His grip vice around Bosworth, aiding the larger man in getting Wells to the gate.

"Well I don't expect… the world to move underneath me but for god's sake… could you try…"

The men were through the gate before any could register what had happened, what they'd done or hadn't done. The supplies, the camera… Janet's body all left behind. Wells' was quickly set on a gurney, Daniel refusing to release his grip on the metal railing as he followed the medical technicians down the hall.

"Where is your heart… 'cause I don't really feel you… where is your heart… what I really want is to believe you…is it so hard to give me what I need…"

The retreating trio had never seen Samantha when she rose from her place near Fraiser's body, her staff had been bashed shut, the trigger pulled and with a roar of a sound she lanced the thing at the oncoming wave. The explosion rocked the very ground, leveling half of the first line of Jaffa, the rest were taken care of with the Kul bracer weapon at her forearm. Any that managed to live past the line of orange diamonds were only flung effortlessly across the forest and into trees with a shattering accuracy via the ribbon device.

"Ooh… where is your heart?"

Everything stilled around her after that, her stance still above the doctor's body, unscathed from the assault. She grabbed for the woman's broken form then, hauling her up into her grasp with a small grunt. The silver of the camera nearby was laced in her grip along with one of the medical packs before the former first prime made a line for the gate.

"It's always me who's reaching out… for your hand… and I've always dreamed… that love would be effortless... like a petal falling to the ground…"

"We are under fire and have serious casualties!" She heard Jonas' voice on Janet's own radio to signal command, the groan of Dixon's voice following close by. With a trembling voice contained around the vapors of adrenaline and fear Samantha gently shook the cradled frame of Janet Fraiser in her arms as she hauled them to the gate. "Janet…"

"…a dreamer following their dream…"

Her steps never wavered, even when she passed through the Stargate… when she was flanked by MP's and medical technicians… she forgot about the camera slung around her arm still recording, and the med-pack she was soon relieved of… her focus was dying in her arms. She vaguely recalled someone else with a camera trying to block her path but before she knew it she was in the infirmary. Bodies were strewn everywhere, however the most critical were ushered into the surgical theatre.

"Where is your heart… 'cause I don't really feel you… where is your heart cause what I really want is to believe you……is it so hard to give me what I need... I want your heart to bleed... that's all I'm asking for…"

She flung the strap of the camera around her neck absently once Janet was nestled onto a medical bed, nurses and technicians swimming about the lifeless form. They were giving up, moving on to those who actually had a fighting chance. Janet wasn't breathing and if she had a heartbeat it wouldn't last long with the wound that had split her chest open.

Samantha let her hands surround Janet's head, holding the woman's face in her grasp, the chill of lifelessness already beginning to steal the warmth of her body away. "Janet… listen to me… please listen to me…" Her voice was a hybrid of raw emotion and apprehension. When no answer came she shifted position, leaning closer as she waited for something, anything; a gasp, a shudder, a wince, even the flicker of an eyelid.

Nothing happened.

Samantha's hand curled around her own mouth to quiet herself, to lock the truth of the situation away with some childish notion that if she never really acknowledged that truth it really didn't exist.

"It seems so much is left unsaid… so much left unsaid… but you can say anything…"

"Janet…" a voice once so strong as to command legions without question now merely trembled with muted husks of sound strangled in the throat as blue eyes became liquefied pools.

"…anytime you need... baby it's just you and me…"

She lifted one of the fallen woman's hands, pressing it between her own palms, staring down at a face that remained lifeless in expression. "Janet please…" the hand fell, inert, back to the threads of the woman's torn flack jacket. Samantha's hands coiled around one another before feverishly tearing at themselves, breaking the seam of black around her skin. As a cruel insult her mind supplied the vision of their reunion not more than a few hours before in this very infirmary when she'd provided a similar exposure of her skin.

"I know that you're true to me... you're always there... you say you care... I know that you wanna be mine…"

Bare skin fell, fingers curling around the surface of the wound at Janet's chest as the other shakily came to rest at her forehead. "Come here…" her voice barely reached above a whisper, tears breaking the barrier over Samantha's eyes in rivers, washing away blood and dirt in their wake down her face. "Janet…" She gasped with an uninhibited torment "I just found you… " her expression broke with her voice. Fingers curled against the skin and hair where they lay covering Janet's body as Samantha leant forward, contained sobs rattling both their bodies.

"...Where is your heart cause I don't really feel you... where is your heart what I really want is to believe you… is it so hard to give me what I need... I want your heart to bleed that's all I'm asking for…asking for…"

"Where is your heart… where is your heart… where is your heart…"

The view broke away, slipping back onto a television screen for the pair of viewers secured away from prying eyes. The camera jittered about momentarily, removed from around Samantha's neck, catching a montage of scenes within a theater permeated with loss. Out of one angle was a trembling Raina, still soaked in the blood of an alien who'd taken a fatal staff blast for her without question. The major's arms were still bound tightly around her torso as tears spilled freely down her face.

In the center stood the former prime of Anubis, his side wrapped in white bandages that were stained a ruddy red color. The hulking man's attention leveled on Colonel O'Neill who lay in a similar state as the rest. Prone, unmoving and presumed dead. Jonas stood on the other side of the bed, one hand gripping the railing as he surveyed the damage, his gaze locked on the fallen form of Janet where she lay off camera.

Daniel stood beside Wells' bed, their bloodied hands clasped together as they worked together to keep one another calm and alert, desperately trying to ignore the pain coursing not only around but through them as well.

In a far corner and near the entrance Bosworth and Dixon stood, along with their walking wounded and unscathed. A jumble of SG teams that were reduced to mere shells of men and women surrounded in the carnage of their surrogate families.

Hammond's jaw worked heavily, surveying the scene as it faded to black and white, disappearing behind a mélange of the American flag atop the SGC flag wavering in the wind.

"Our armed forces have turned the tide of world wars aided by the unwavering support of allies both inner and extra stellar. Young men and women from our great country's four corners, and our galaxy's farthest reaches have humbled history's worse times. We carve our thanks in stone. We stamp it into metals.

We carefully tend to the vast fields where the men and women who gave their lives for our freedom now lay. More than ever in our history, we cannot fail to pass these stories of courage to the next generation. We must capture their imaginations while paying tribute to all those willing to die for the preservation of our way of life human and alien alike."



The view broke away, slipping back onto a television screen for the pair of viewers secured away from prying eyes. The camera jittered about momentarily, removed from around Samantha's neck, catching a montage of scenes within a theater permeated with loss. Out of one angle was a trembling Raina, still soaked in the blood of an alien who'd taken a fatal staff blast for her without question. The major's arms were still bound tightly around her torso as tears spilled freely down her face.

In the center stood the former prime of Anubis, his side wrapped in white bandages that were stained a ruddy red color. The hulking man's attention leveled on Colonel O'Neill who lay in a similar state as the rest. Prone, unmoving and presumed dead. Jonas stood on the other side of the bed, one hand gripping the railing as he surveyed the damage, his gaze locked on the fallen form of Janet where she lay off camera.

Daniel stood beside Wells' bed, their bloodied hands clasped together as they worked together to keep one another calm and alert, desperately trying to ignore the pain coursing not only around but through them as well.

In a far corner and near the entrance Bosworth and Dixon stood, along with their walking wounded and unscathed. A jumble of SG teams that were reduced to mere shells of men and women surrounded in the carnage of their surrogate families.

Hammond's jaw worked heavily, surveying the scene as it faded to black and white, disappearing behind a mélange of the American flag atop the SGC flag wavering in the wind.

"Our armed forces have turned the tide of world wars aided by the unwavering support of allies both inner and extra stellar. Young men and women from our great country's four corners, and our galaxy's farthest reaches have humbled history's worse times. We carve our thanks in stone. We stamp it into metals.

We carefully tend to the vast fields where the men and women who gave their lives for our freedom now lay. More than ever in our history, we cannot fail to pass these stories of courage to the next generation. We must capture their imaginations while paying tribute to all those willing to die for the preservation of our way of life human and alien alike."

Janet gave a sharp inward gasp that pulled her entire body upright, forcing Samantha back and away from her in alarm, as if burned. The darker haired woman wavered slightly before sliding back down to the surface of her bed, leaving Samantha barely breathing riddled with the fear of doing anything more than just watch would take Janet away from her again. "Hi..." came the gentle timbre of Janet's voice as she looked up at the other's face.

The gem amidst Sam's left hand was thick with blood, but glowing softly, it was something that had immediately caught Jonas' attention. The resulting sight nearly dropped the man to the floor once Janet woke. Samantha peeled her hand from Janet's chest, coming away with crimson fingers and a stream of amber from the device wrapped around her hand which seemed content to just pour itself into Janet's body.

Where ribs had been exposed and flesh rent into black remnants of soft dermal tissue was now mended, the muscles knit and the skin pinkish like sunburn and bound tight like a burn scar in the shape of a hand print over the woman's very heart.

Raina felt a strong hand at her shoulder then, her much smaller form turning towards Shan`dr as he spoke in soft tones, forcing the woman into a pile on the floor, sobs of relief tearing through her body. Shan`dr knelt down with her, scooping the female Tau`ri into his brawny arms despite his injury.

Her team members were equally surprised at the action but let it pass, days later they would know why. Shan`dr was dying; he'd given his symbiote to O'Neill and refused to let it rejoin with him until there was a chance the Colonel could pull through completely.

The day Colonel O'Neill woke Shan`dr slipped into a coma. The symbiote, still young, had taken too much damage, and although capable of healing a human it in turn had sacrificed itself to preserve O'Neill. Rendering it incapable of returning to Shan`dr in order to keep him alive. It was a sacrifice even O'Neill had a hard time with, his understanding of Carter coming full circle as he was allowed to see her through Shan`dr's eyes.

"What's his name?" Daniel's voice wavered slightly, his arms still wrapped around an overly large teddy bear from where he stood inside the Wells' home.

"Shandar…" came the quiet response from Wells as his newborn son grappled for his finger.

The End

Return to Stargate SG-1 Fiction

Return to Main Page