Life strategies

By Biltong

It had happened so suddenly that even I, as paranoid as I was, hadn’t seen it coming.

I mean, who woulda thought it anyway? The Lossians had been trading with the SGC for over a year. This was just a goodwill visit, for crying out loud.

So much for goodwill. I never should have agreed to us staying the night, dammit.

"Damn it." My voice was a whisper, but they heard. Or maybe it was the sound of my body hitting the far wall – that had been much louder.

"Crap."

One minute I had been peering out of one of those windowless gaps in the building everybody insisted on calling a window anyway, and the next I was…

What the hell?

Oh yes, a Jaffa had shot me.

I should be feeling panic. I should be yelling and sending a stream of lead back at them courtesy of good old Tau’ri-land, but all I could do was lie on my back and curse and struggle to breathe.

"Sir?"

"Car-ter?"

It didn’t hurt. I found that very strange – that collecting a staff weapon blast say, on the arm should hurt so, but a direct hit to the chest didn’t hurt at all.

"Help here?"

I watched as Carter crawled to me, wondering vaguely why bits and pieces of the building were flying around above my head.

Oh yes, the Jaffa. They were shooting at us. Crap.

I tried to move, to reach for my P90, but stopped with a hiss, strange sparkles swimming in and out of my vision.

"Colonel?"

Someone was calling me.

Carter.

"Stay put Colonel." That got me frowning. Why was she looming above me like that?

"If you insist," I muttered, wondering what her problem was.

She gave me a small smile, one that disappeared as soon as she lifted my jacket away.

"Morphine, Danny, and quickly."

That got me worried. Morphine was for injured people. I wasn’t injured, was I?

"Carter?"

"It’s bad Colonel."

It was as if her words were the catalyst between unreality and the pain of 100% consciousness because all of a sudden it hurt; as if someone had thrown a icy bucket fill with fire at me, if such a thing could exist.

"God." I waved a hand at her, now desperately seeking some grounding in a sea of pain.

"Carter?"

"Here sir."

Indeed she was; all soft body and soothing sounds, and I knew that she needed to know what had happened, and quickly.

"Staff weapon…hit, hurt…" I looked up at her, trying to form one coherent sentence, finally finding the words.

"I’m hurt pretty badly, aren’t I?" I mean, the blood and cooked flesh gave me some kind of clue, but I just wanted my self diagnosis confirmed.

Call me a masochist.

She nodded; her eyes wide and frightened.

"Yes sir."

Dammit. I just hadn’t seen it coming.

"I kinda figured as much," I said with a sigh.

I had trained my team a long time ago not to pull their punches, but still, confirmation was a bitch.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment or two before I became aware of other sounds, specifically the snarl of Teal’c’s own staff weapon.

Turning my head was difficult, but I managed it.

"Teal’c?"

He spared me a brief glance, his face set, and then resumed firing.

"The followers of the false God Baal."

"Baal?"

He nodded. "Indeed."

"Crap."

I had been on the tail end of the last shift, shivering in the pearly light just before dawn and cursing the fact that the Lossians were a primitive race that had never heard of electricity nor windows for crying out loud when something moving outside our crude hut had caught my attention.

I had trained my eye on the spot, waiting patiently for enough light to see. Unfortunately for me, the Jaffa must have been doing the same thing his side, and they have better eyesight, compliments of the snakes they carry around in their guts, dammit.

He saw me way before I even knew he was there.

"Jack?" Hold on Jack." I felt someone prop me up.

"I’m holding." Kinda. "I’m holding."

"Sam?" Daniel was holding me up. Nice of him. "Here."

A vial of something was exchanged and then she slammed it down on my thigh, a hard thump that almost masked the sharp pinprick.

Morphine. Wonderful brilliant morphine.

"Thanks Guys." All of a sudden I felt so sleepy.

So sleeeepy.

"Colonel?" She was leaning in close, her eyes concerned. "Stay with us, okay." She looked calm and collected and I wondered how she did it. If it had been her flat on her back I would have been sweating buckets.

I grimaced, blinking rapidly and nodded, before wondering if she knew what Teal’c was fighting against outside. Perhaps that was it, but no, from the sharp crack of a P90 in what had to be Daniel’s hands, I guess she knew what we were facing, but considered me to be more important.

"Nice of you."

"What?"

"Thanks."

She gave my hand a soft squeeze before continuing to bandage me up, my angel with blonde hair.

"The Lossians…"

"Have betrayed us," Teal’c confirmed, squatting by my side.

"This we know. The Jaffa bear the mark of Baal." He jerked an angry head at the world outside our hut. "I have counted more than fifty Jaffa around us."

"I agree. I was up to about forty nine when one of them saw me," I murmured.

"So I see," he said dryly.

"Hey, he caught me by surprise," I said defensively. "One minute I was looking out the window, wondering what I was seeing, the next…"

"Char city," Daniel said, squatting alongside Teal’c. He looked across me to Carter.

"They’ve retreated for the moment, but we had better get the hell out of here, and quick, before they regroup."

Carter nodded in agreement. "We need to make the gate, and quickly. The Colonel…"

I hated being spoken of as if I were invisible, and hated even more what I was going to tell them next. "Will be left right here," I finished flatly.

As expected, the objections were instantaneous.

"Sir - Jack…"

Carter got the upper hand, her voice firm.

"What happened to no one gets left behind?" she snapped.

"You would prefer that we all stay here?" I asked. "Because if you try to drag me through…" I gasped as the world shifted again, sending more tiny sparks of light through my eyeballs.

"If you try and take me with you, we could all conceivably die before we reach the gate," I said through my teeth.

"You don’t know that." Daniel sounded earnest, but I knew him by now. He was wondering the same thing I was, like whether the gate was still unguarded at all.

"I’m a liability," I continued. "I can’t walk."

"So we carry you," Carter said, her face tortured.

"Through small bushes that conceal nothing much and past fifty of Baal’s men, one of whom knows he shot me?" I asked. "Don’t be stupid." I offered them a crumb. "Rather get to the gate as quick as you can and fetch help."

"You won’t be here when we get back," Carter said, her voice tight.

I held her gaze. "Perhaps," I said slowly, trying to make her understand. "But it won’t be because I have died, you hear me?"

I stressed that, hoping that a higher power heard as well. The way I felt, even with the morphine buzzing around my system, I could do with all the help I could get.

"Jack..."

"O’Neill is correct."

Teal’c to the rescue. "We cannot carry his injured body past so many Jaffa and remain undetected." He gave both Daniel and Carter an angry glare. "O’Neill offers his life for yours, and yet you do not see it for the incredible gift it is."

Well, I wouldn’t quite have put it that way, but seeing as he had, I would run with it, so to speak.

"Teal’c?"

His eyes were deep brown and concerned.

"O’Neill?" He held my hand in a warriors grip, he grasping my wrist as I attempted to grip his, my lack of strength reinforcing my decision. There was no way I could make it to the gate.

"Get them home. I want your word. As a warrior and as a brother."

"O’Neill?" I could see that he wanted to do anything but give this extreme oath, but I persevered.

"Please T. Please."

It was my begging, so scarcely used, that did it.

He gave a solemn nod.

"You have my word O’Neill."

"Good. Now go, now. Before those Jaffa return with reinforcements and screw up my brilliant sacrifice."

Carter opened her mouth again, but I beat her to it, my voice cold. "That is an order Carter."

They went.

…

Oh man it was lonely without them, made worse by the fact that the Jaffa would soon arrive.

Baal’s Jaffa.

I had almost asked for another morphine ampoule for rapid use as soon as they left, but couldn’t get myself to ask. No matter how I felt about Baal, I couldn’t do it. Suicide hadn’t been my thing for years now, dammit.

No, if I was going to die, it wouldn’t be by my own hand.

"Kree!"

I could hear them now, the tramp of their feet as their prime ordered them on and reached for my P90, my decision made.

"Sorry Sam."

Despite my vow to her, they were not going to take me alive. I couldn’t do this again.

My weapon wasn’t where I left it.

"What the hell?"

Cursing my weakness, I lifted my head, and there it was, lying against the far wall.

It may as well have been on the moon.

"Kree Tau’ri."

I glared at the Jaffa, and reached for my pistol…

…

"Teal’c?

They were hurting. The Tau’ri always hurt when one of them died. In fact, such was their compassion for others, I was constantly amazed that they took on the false gods in the first place.

"Teal’c!"

A slender hand gripped my arm, and despite my best efforts, the owner of that hand somehow dragged me to a halt.

"Major Carter?"

She was pale and still covered in O’Neill’s blood and I knew that she wished to return to him.

"We cannot return. I gave her a hard look. "That would be suicide for both you and Daniel Jackson."

"So we just leave him behind and save our own worthless hides?" Daniel Jackson snarled. "That is some trade."

"It is a good trade, I all but snarled back at him, my loss of composure literally making him take a step backwards. "If I had had my way, I would have died by his side, but he has entrusted me with something far more important to him than his own life – the lives of his team. You."

"But…"

"There is no ‘but’," I thundered. I led him and the pale Samantha Carter to a dense clump of bushes and pushed my way inside, forcing my charges to follow.

"He may die," I said softly, listening to their anguished breathing to the left and right of me. "He may not. That is his choice."

"They are going to kill him," Daniel Jackson said, his voice sounding raw. "They are going to walk through that door and he is going to open up with that P90 and they are going to kill him."

"No." Sam Carter’s voice was firm. "I removed his P90 whilst I was treating him. There is no way that he can get to it in time."

"His handgun then."

"His pistol?" She sounded thoughtful. "It’s doubtful. He’s pretty badly burnt. Even if he tried, I scarcely believe he can reach across his body and grab it before the pain overwhelms him."

"So now what?" Daniel asked.

"We get reinforcements," Carter said, making me relax. Good, she was once more thinking clearly.

I heard the rustle as she moved, wiggling into a position where she too could stare upwards at the sight I had been observing for some time now, since it slid into place with the first rays of dawn.

"It’s huge, like something out of Independence Day," she muttered.

I nodded, having seen it twice.

"Indeed."

"It’s Baal’s ship?"

"Yes," I said slowly, watching as the fluffy clouds seemed to break and dissipate under its bulk. "They are harvesting the children of this world for future service to Baal. If O’Neill survives still, they will take him there."

"Then it is to there we will return," she said firmly. "The gate is not far now, and once we are there, the SGC, despite the distance involved, are even closer."

"Indeed they are, Samantha Carter," I said, smiling ferociously. "Indeed they are."

…

"Tau’ri?"

Someone was prodding me with a hard boot, sending waves of fire through my chilled body.

Chilled?

I was cold. Icy cold. This was not good.

"Tau’ri?"

"What’s left of one," I murmured.

Breathing shallowly, I opened my eyes to see two Jaffa staring at me, their expressions a mixture of admiration and contempt.

"Master Bra’tac was right. The Tau’ri are pathetic once they are horizontal."

"As usual, master Bra’tac is full of compliments," I murmured, struggling to sit upright. It was difficult, but I found a convenient wall to lean against, convenient that is, if you ignored the frost stuck to it.

"Where are we?" I whispered huskily, shaking with cold. I was dressed in light clothing, unlike the two Jaffa in front of me, who looked like bears, and I was freezing.

"On Baal’s ship," The taller of the two Jaffa said. "We are above this planet looking for Jaffa recruits."

"Ah," I murmured, taking note of the lack of respect for Baal in his tone. "Any way off?"

"No."

"Full of great ideas, aren’t we?" I hurt too much for niceties.

"It is you that came to us," the other Jaffa said. He had a plait in his hair, I noticed, a long plait that almost reached the back of his thighs. That, accompanied by the furs made him look like pictures I had seen once of Genghis Kahn.

"I guess I did," I murmured. "Sorry about that. I was aiming for a warriors death way before this."

That got their attention, and I grimaced. Sometimes understanding the Jaffa was way too easy, despite the fact that they spoke Goa’uld.

"Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t to be," the plaited one said. He squatted next to me and offered a flagon of water. "Here."

"I am Kranac," he said as I drank deeply. "My companion is Putuy."

"Krack and Pitooee." I said between gulps. "Gottit."

"We are honored," Pitooee said, crashing a fist to his chest.

"Huh?" Okay, call me slow, but they hadn’t looked too pleased to see me at first and now they were honored?

"Master Bra’tac has told us of the honor of having our names changed by you Tau’ri, how you only do so with great warriors."

"That’s nice of him," I said through gritted teeth, wondering precisely when the old dog had cottoned on to my pleasurable past time of renaming everything. Perhaps T had told him.

"So, are you here to get me off this ship?" I asked hopefully.

Pitooee shook his head. "I regret not. We are here to guard you. It was just a coincidence that we were both detailed to this duty."

"And if I wish to escape?" I asked gently. "Would you prevent me from doing so?"

"We have no need to," Krack said. "Even now, the cold depletes whatever strength you have left. That, coupled with your chest wound will soon render you unconscious."

"If not dead," I snapped, taking a careful note of the thick clothes they were wearing.

"Definitely dead," Pitooee confirmed. "That too is Lord Baal’s wish for you."

"Wonderful," I said sarcastically.

"He has a prior history with you," Krack said, looking sympathetic. "He insists that this time you will be in no condition to defy him.

"How nice," I said. "So he gets pissed off and decides to freeze me to death as punishment?"

Krack nodded.

"Lord Baal insists on this means of punishment. He believes that conscious and in full control of your faculties, you will attempt to escape."

"He’s damn right about that," I muttered. The cold was getting intense now, and I was shivering hard.

"But fear not," Pitoee said cheerfully. "We will follow his instructions closely."

"Wonderful," I muttered, remembering other visits.

I swear, if I could have regained my feet I would have run off screaming, even if it was only to impact against the far side of my cell. Anything was better than going through a repeat performance of what Baal did to me before.

Anything was better than dying and being brought back to life again and again.

"In this Tau’ri’s case, that is not such a good thing," Krack said, almost echoing my thoughts. "According to master Bra’tac he has an intense dislike for the sarcophagus."

Pitooee gave Krack a small bow, showing me who was in charge. "I know that, sir, but we have no choice but to follow Baal’s instructions."

He turned back to me.

"The sarcophagus will cure your wound and give you renewed life," he said persuasively. "Take advantage of Lord Baal’s instructions whilst you can."

"Where is he?" I asked, my heart suddenly clenching. If he was after my team…

"With the Lossian leader," Pitooee replied. "The man is not so willing to cooperate now that Lord Baal is removing the able bodied males from the planet."

"I bet," I said, remembering the Lossian chancellor, a small man called Brant.

"The gate?" I asked.

"A large detachment of guards was sent to the Chappa’ai when you were identified as being the leader of SG1, but they were too late, and the Tau’ri had already gone." Pitooee said.

Thank God, I thought, feeling faint. If they had managed to capture my team, my sacrifice would have been in vain.

"Holy crap, but its cold," I whispered. My breath was condensing around my face and I was in serious danger of shattering my teeth.

Krack nodded, looking sympathetic. "Lord Baal was very specific in his instructions. You are to be frozen to death and revived as many times as it takes for you to be compliant to his wishes." He gave me a sympathetic look. "Lord Baal is determined that you be in no condition to initiate an escape attempt

"Wonderful," I muttered.

"We would help if we could," Pitooee explained. "The problem is, we cannot do so without exposing our own loyalties. That would be disastrous for all the Free Jaffa on board this ship."

"I understand," I said. I really did. The Jaffa were soon going to be very instrumental in fighting the Goa’uld, and from what I could glean from these two, they were very high up in the Free Jaffa hierarchy.

"I have recalled as many Jaffa guarding the gate as possible," Krack said. "Of the few that remain, most are free Jaffa."

"Thank you," I said, remembering my manners, before turning my head and staring off into the darkness.

"What is this place? I asked. "Hades?"

Everything seemed to be black on black, with white frost attached to everything.

"This is the oxygen reclamation plant, Krack said. "It is where the dangerously warm gasses are scrubbed and cooled to be reintroduced into the ship."

"And we’re in the cool down section?"

"Yes," Krack confirmed. "Thirty seven levels belowdecks, in the bowels of the ship." He looked around with a distasteful expression on his face. "No one has ever escaped from here."

"Lord Baal deliberately ordered that his detention section be built here, knowing that very few people besides Jaffa ever survive the cold," Pitooee said helpfully.

"Uh-huh?" I suddenly felt warm, whereas a second ago I was freezing cold, and a small part of my brain raised the alarm.

"I am dying," I whispered, trying to appeal to them. "Please, can’t you help me?"

Pitooee glanced quickly at Krack, who shook his head. "I regret not," he said. "Lord Baal’s followers are watching you closely."

"Sleep O’Neill, and when you once more awake, perhaps your people will be here," Pitooee said.

"Or not," Krack said to his companion. "Do not attempt to placate this Tau’ri with false promises. He deserves better."

Unfortunately I knew he was right. Gating to the planet was going to be easy, thanks to Bra’tac’s men.

Getting me off of Baal’s ship was another kettle of fish entirely.

…

The waiting was the worst.

It always was, no matter where in the galaxy I happened to be.

Time seemed to stretch, as if I were no longer part of the known universe. I am sure that if I had asked Major Carter about this phenomenon, she would have a neat scientific explanation, one that would have had O’Neill throwing up his hands and heading for the door before she was finished, insulting her. But O’Neill was not here, and Major Carter had other things on her mind than assisting one impatient Jaffa.

"Teal’c?"

"I apologize, General Hammond. I had my mind….elsewhere."

For a relatively young Tau’ri, this man was remarkably wise.

"I know Teal’c." He looked briefly at the large wooden table before again facing the large amount of people perched around it, sitting on whatever seats they could find.

"I need not tell you that being recaptured by Baal counts as one of the worst things on Colonel O’Neill’s long list of things to avoid. If he is still alive, it is SG2’s mission to free him and return him to the SGC."

I watched Major Ferretti nod, knowing that the short dark haired man considered O’Neill one of his best friends.

"He’ll be alive sir," he said, his eyes flicking quickly to where we sat before facing forwards resolutely again.

"SG12 will be responsible for the freeing of the Lossians incarcerated on Baal’s ship."

The five people in that particular unit nodded gravely. "Yes sir," someone muttered.

"SG6 will hold the gate."

He turned to us.

"The remainder of SG1, 3 as well as SG5 will remain on the planet, at Teal’c’s request."

"Why?

I had not seen Daniel Jackson looking so hostile since losing his wife.

"There are considerable Free Jaffa in Baal’s camp," I said slowly, hoping that Master Bra’tac would forgive me for imparting such sensitive information. Probably, once he knew that O’Neill’s life was at stake. "I will require Daniel Jackson’s expertise in assuring them that the large Tau’ri force exiting the Chappa’ai has no hostile intentions towards them."

"But surely they would know this?" Daniel Jackson exclaimed, looking confused.

"Just how would they know this?" I asked gently. "We have no Cell mobile devices on which to forewarn them. No, they will react badly at first, and will not all be Free Jaffa in any case. It will be up to us to allay their fears, and somehow get them to assist us with Baal being none the wiser."

"A tall order," Major Carter said frowning.

"One SG1 must be able to pull off," I said earnestly, my heart lightening when both of them nodded.

"SG5 will set up a bivouac for the wounded, and SG3 will watch everyone’s back." General Hammond left it at that, although we knew that taking on a mothership would most inevitably result in casualties.

He stood, but spoke before dismissing them.

"GK6 3K7 has been one of the SGC’s star trading partners. This all went south the minute Councilor Brant was elected, and now we have Baal involved. If we can somehow rescue Colonel O’Neill, get rid of Baal, and return their abducted children to them, I think that the Lossians will think twice about him remaining in power.

"I’m sure they do already," someone from SG12 muttered.

"Perhaps," General Hammond said. "But we’ll only know that when the dust settles. Dismissed."

…

"O’Neill?"

I didn’t want to move. I was warm, and more importantly, I could breathe.

"O’Neill?"

A harsh grating noise assaulted my hearing and I almost leapt from where I had been placed, ending up in a heap on the floor.

"You really don’t like the sarcophagus, do you?" an amused voice asked.

I stared up warily at a tall brute of a man, taking in his huge girth and chipped teeth.

"Did you expect me to?" I asked sarcastically.

"Doesn’t matter," he smiled, and hauled me to my feet. "Perhaps after a while you may come to like it."

"Don’t count on it," I grated. It was a joy to be pain free and walking upright, but I knew that it couldn’t last.

The brute snorted and pushed me hard against the wall, smiling as I ended up in an ungainly heap at the bottom. "Return him to his cell," he ordered Pitooee. "And this time remove his clothes." He gave me a big grin. "Don’t complain Tau’ri, it makes it quicker to die."

…

"I’m sorry O’Neill."

I gave Pitooee a small smile and tried to speak coherently. "At least you allowed me to keep my boxers," I finally stuttered. "I thank you for allowing me my dignity."

The man nodded and huddled deeper into his pile of firs.

"Why do you exercise so?" he asked curiously, watching as I marched up and down my small cell. "Why do you prolong the inevitable?"

"Because defiance is my middle name?" I asked, wondering if my new friend would understand. From his puzzled expression I knew that he did not.

Pity.

"Or perhaps it is the fact that I hate not being able to chose the method of my own death," I continued. "I prefer to die once only, preferably in battle, not over and over again, like this." That made sense – kinda.

"Oh. Okay." Resistance to death he understood.

"Good."

Despite my best efforts, I eventually staggered and lost my balance, hitting the icy floor with a crash, and once there I couldn’t pull free from the floors icy grip.

"I guess there’s no chance of you killing me, is there?" I murmured, hearing my skin tear as I flopped onto my back.

"I’m doing that my friend," Pitooee said, his face shadowed. He crouched by my side, the heat radiating from him making me groan. He reached forwards and touched my face with a calloused finger. "Kranac is at the gate, and reports that the Tau’ri force has arrived."

"Too late," I moaned, feeling my heart flutter, a frightening thing for someone who appreciated his health as much as I did.

I had little strength, but I reached up and dug a hand into Pitooee’s fur coat.

"I know what Baal wants," I hissed, "and if he ever gets hold of me, I will be hard pressed not to reveal the presence of the Free Jaffa on this ship."

I could see from the set expression on Pitooee’s face that that thought had already occurred to him.

"If no one comes for me…if all hope is lost," I whispered, "I want you to sever my head from my body, okay?" I stared deep into his eyes, trying to make him understand. "For your resistance, and the safety of my planet, where the Free Jaffa are welcome any time, you must do this."

It was a request I could never have asked anyone else but a Jaffa, and it got serious consideration.

"Please," I whispered. My frozen hand fell from him as a deadly lassitude stole up on me. "I cannot withstand Baal forever."

…

"All SG units have reported in sir."

"Good."

I watched silently as Colonel Van Ryn, SG5’s tall leader stalked towards where they were hastily erecting a large canvas tent, yelling as he did so.

It had taken me quite some time for me to understand SG5’s doctor, but once I had, I had found a sensitive person under his glacial exterior, one that could almost match me in J’tan’al.

It had taken me two weeks and a lot of pain before O’Neill informed me that he was a master in an ancient Tau’ri art called Kar’ate, an unusual thing to be considering his work as a healer. No wonder he had found J’tan’al easy to understand.

"Master Teal’c?"

"Yes Prime Kranac?"

The plaited Jaffa bowed deeply, forcing me to reciprocate.

"Whilst it is a pleasure to have such an honored person as yourself on this planet, we do have pressing things to attend to," he said, his manner deferential.

Ah, I had hoped for an opening, protocol denying me the chance to ask of O’Neill’s whereabouts directly.

"And they are?" I asked calmly, aware of SG2 watching us closely.

"We have a Tau’ri called O’Neill," Kranac, said. "He is being held in the holds of Baal’s ship."

"He’s alive?" I could not prevent Daniel Jackson’s interruption, but thankfully Kranac took his outburst as no insult.

"Yes and no," Kranac said, taking my friends question quite literally.

"Pardon?" That answer had confused even I.

"He is being frozen to death and then revived", the prime said, staring down at his boots as the entire camp turned to look at him. "These are Lord Baal’s instructions, ones I had to carry out or risk exposure."

"Jesus," Van Ryn said, his face suffused in anger. He swung away from the tent and strode towards where Kranac was standing, only to freeze at my abruptly upraised arm.

"You did well, prime Kranac," I said, ignoring the incredulous faces surrounding me. "Exposure we can ill afford." I steered him towards where an Air Force artist was setting up his easel. "If you would be so kind as to relay the directions to Sergeant Roche, he will draw the Tau’ri a map, thus allowing them to fetch O’Neill was the least amount of bloodshed possible."

Once Kranac was out of earshot, I turned to Van Ryn and Major Ferretti, both of whom were looking at me with death in their eyes.

"He is being tortured again," Ferretti said in a low voice, "and by the hands of that creature, as far as I can tell. How then can you tell him that he’s doing a good job?"

"Because by following out his orders, Kranac is preventing unnecessary risk," I answered, determined to make these Tau’ri understand.

"The Free Jaffa are many, and even now crouch in the hills surrounding this camp on the orders of Lord Baal. When the order to attack is given," I stared at them seriously, "and it will be given soon, we will be completely reliant on their benevolence towards us."

"Prime Kranac is in charge, and it will be due to his orders that this flimsy tent and the as flimsy Tau’ri surrounding it will not be sent straight to Kheb, the land of the dead."

"We know this," Ferretti snarled. "We don’t need telling twice."

I believed they did.

. "Their benevolence will change in an instant if Baal ever finds out about them." I drew in a deep cleansing breath. "Be aware, Lord Baal has a policy - for every free Jaffa caught, he kills ten other Jaffa, their immediate family and any close friends he might have had. Failing the ten person instruction, the instructions are to claim the lives of work colleagues until the tally is reached. It is for this reason why the Free Jaffa so few, and why I am so grateful for their support now, as you should be."

"Oh God," Ferretti said, joining us. "The bastard."

I looked down my nose at him. After all this time he still could be so naïve. "Baal is a Goa’uld, not a bastard, and this cruelty is one of the reasons as to why I left Apothis and allied myself with O’Neill in the first place. Baal’s cruelty is just as legendary, and unlike myself, the Free Jaffa still remain in his service because they believe they can make a difference."

I gasped for air, aware that I had most probably just made the longest speech of my life.

"Well done Teal’c," Daniel Jackson said, admiration in his voice.

I merely inclined my head. What had to be said was now said, and whatever transpired next depended solely on the Tau’ri.

…

"Good morning my friend!"

I was bodily jerked out of the sarcophagus, the creature in charge of my rejuvenation literally grabbing me by one arm and pulling hard.

"What do you want, furry face?"

He didn’t like that name. Tough.

"Ah resistance." He gave me a ferocious grin. "I like resistance."

The giant laughed heartily and shook me like a rag doll and then tossed me aside.

I heard my arm break with a crack as I hit the wall again.

"Do you mind?" I whispered, my voice suddenly husky, the pain robbing me of any further resistance.

"Dumb question Tau’ri," he said, reaching for me. "Of course I don’t."

I added bad body odor to chipped teeth and general ugliness as he clasped me to him before throwing me in the general direction of Pitooee.

"Again Jaffa," he snapped.

I groaned as Pitooee was forced to grab me by my broken arm as I came spinning at him, and then he was dragging me out of there, away from the heat and light and the warmth.

"Y’know, it wasn’t so bad the first time he had me," I said conversationally, grimacing as Pitooee jabbed his staff weapon into the small of my back when I slowed.

"Maybe I’m older, or wiser, but this time seems much worse." I turned to him, anger flaring. "Or maybe it’s the fact that I get turned into a giant popsicle every few hours."

"Move Tau’ri," Pitooee snarled, unable to answer in such a public place.

The passageway between the room where the sarcophagus was held and my frozen corner of the world was full of Jaffa, their living quarters, I surmised. It was a grey featureless place, cheered by the occasional gold wall, and each briefly glimpsed room seemed to be full of bunks, all lined in neat rows.

It was this tiny problem that prevented me from attempting an escape as soon as furry face had cured me. I also despaired as to any rescue attempt. There was no friggin way that any SG unit could ever get to me, that’s assuming there was anyone coming in the first place.

Perhaps they thought me dead, I mused, watching silently as Pitooey slammed my cell door behind me. Perhaps that is what they thought, which in a way I didn’t mind, as long as General Hammond had changed all the gate codes. That was standard operating procedure when someone went missing, like when SG1 was abducted by Hathor, and when I ended up on the not-so-paradise planet with Mayborne.

"I am so sorry my friend." Pitooee said, disappearing into his pile of furs. "This is indeed not a warriors destination. Neither was your time before, I surmise."

"No it wasn’t." I said, memories of my time before mere echoes now, overlaid with more recent memories. "At least I managed to escape then."

"So Kranac said," Pitooee said with a smile. "He said that in doing so, he, and to a lesser degree, I, managed to climb the ranks to finally be in a position of power."

He gave me a deep bow. "I thank you."

"My pleasure," I gritted. I started my usual pacing, ignoring Pitooey as the first serious shivers set in, rattling my body unmercifully.

"Who would’a thought that extreme cold should hurt so?" I asked, feeling my back muscles protest at my vigorous shaking. "Even my skin feels like someone is sticking razor blades in it."

"That is because the coolant is circulating at full strength now," Krack said, appearing from God alone knew where, three silent Jaffa by his side. They were all dressed in equally thick furs and I hated them for their warmth.

"Most of the Lossians are on board now, and all that remains is for Lord Baal to arrive."

"Then the fun really starts," I muttered, trying desperately to stay on my feet. I had encountered such extreme temperatures before in my life, but never dressed in nothing but regulation silk boxers.

"I’m afraid so," Kranac said, standing close to the bars and watching as I swayed. "But fear not because your friends have arrived."

"Tau’ri?" I breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.

He nodded. "Indeed."

I gave a harsh bark of laughter, one that sent me staggering and then crashing to the floor. "You sound like Teal’c, I murmured. "He says…" It was so hard to speak.

"God, I miss him. He’d get me out of here," I murmured.

"Indeed O’Neill," a rich familiar voice said, just as consciousness fled.

…

There have been many occasions in my life that I categorized as difficult. Where I stood by and did nothing.

Like the rape of the woman on P’Halla.

The ritual dismembering of the Vanna elder for defying Apophis.

The list was a long one, as I’m certain the lists of Master Bra’tac, and to a lesser degree this pup of a prime stood alongside me were.

But out of the long list of things that I considered terrible to watch and do nothing, watching the slow death of my brother surely ranked up there at the very top.

I stood, tall and silent, and watched as Pitooee shoved O’Neill into the small barred room, slamming the door after him.

"Holy God." The voice was low but clearly audible, and I immediately grasped the arm to my left, that of Captain Frenchie, Major Ferretti’s 2IC. He was a bear of a man, tall enough to masquerade as a Jaffa, as was Major Cochrane, SG3’s leader to my right. The plan was that SG2 rescue the Lossians, and SG3 stay planetside, but like all good plans made a long way from the action, we had to improvise.

When Kranac had told us of what the false god had planned for O’Neill, we had set a new plan into action, one that required two tall people experienced and able to keep their emotions under control. I had chosen Frenchie and Cochrane.

O Neill was staggering now, a gaunt version of the robust man I had last seen just over twelve hours ago. He had been hurt, his arm standing out at an angle that clearly said that it was broken, but I think that he scarcely felt the pain, his body wracked by such bone jarring shivers as the cold assaulted his bare skin.

"This is inhuman," Frenchie said, his voice a mere whisper, but clearly audible to my ears. "He’s dying."

"We are counting on it," I whispered back, lest the man did something stupid. Any attack in this hellhole of ice and misery was doomed to fail. The sarcophagus room on the other hand…

It was a desperate idea, but like other desperate ideas, it had a chance of working. Whilst the detention area was deep in the bowels of the ship, the sarcophagus room was not. That was on level fifteen, close to Baal’s own chambers, just in case he had need of it. Kranac’s idea was simple. Take us into the ship, and when O’Neill was revived, kill any resistance and ring back to the stargate.

Of course, for us to implement this daring plan, we had to be at Kranac’s side at all times.

I watched, sickened, as O’Neill crashed to the floor, his body so pale it looked like Tvor’, a rare mineral SG1 had found on PF4 NH5, one so white that it put Tau’ri white marble to shame.

"Teal’c."

My brother had died with my name on his lips, and I vowed there and then that Baal would die horribly by my hand.

…

Light, heat, warmth, and this time I didn’t want the sensations to ever stop.

Of course, like all good things, they did.

"Good morning O’Neill," furry face chanted, his smile displaying the usual cracked teeth.

"Morning?" I asked warily, crawling out of the sarcophagus. It had been morning when I had been captured. Surely a whole day hadn’t passed already?

Furry face nodded cheerfully.

"Morning. The sun is rising, the birds are chirping - whatever ones haven’t been eaten yet - and Lord Baal wishes an audience.

"Screw him," I muttered, edging towards the door, towards where Pitooee was standing, two robed Jaffa flanking him.

"Perhaps, if he is that way inclined," Furry face said, his face thoughtful. "It depends on the day." He took two swift steps forwards and grabbed me by the shoulder, his face gleeful, and drew me to him. "I, on the other hand, am always up for it."

"Fight me if you can," he said gleefully, pressing me against the wall, and I just didn’t have the energy to fight him off. All my strength was gone, sucked away by that damn sarcophagus.

"Damn you," I hissed, glaring into pale blue eyes. "What have you done?" Something wasn’t right. I wasn’t a veteran of the sarcophagus by any means, but I knew more than most, and something wasn’t right.

"What have you done?"

"Reduced your session my pet," he whispered, "at Lord Baal’s insistence."

I cried soundlessly as the man I called furry face pushed me against the wall, his breath hot against my cheek, his hands…Oh God his hands … and then he gasped and I was swaying alone, his body at my feet.

"O’Neill?"

My arms and legs felt like wet spaghetti, but I still had strength enough for my brother. Oh yeah.

"Hi Teal’c. What took you so long?"

And then I hit the deck.

…

O’Neill was gaunt, and I wondered if he had lost his soul along with his flesh. He certainly had no strength to fight off the sarcophagus guard, and my heart clenched as the Jaffa pressed him back against the wall, breathing hard.

"I can’t stand this," Frenchie muttered.

Our plan had been to do nothing, merely be the guards escorting the prisoner to Baal’s chambers, but this molestation, this violation of the semi clothed O’Neill was uncalled for.

"Nor can I," I murmured, and stepped forwards, my knife in my hand.

…

"Colonel?"

Someone I knew was calling my name, a concerned face was staring down at me.

"Frenchie?" My voice was rusty, like I hadn’t used it in years.

His face broke into a relieved smile. "Colonel, welcome back."

I was still shaking my head as the other robed Jaffa pulled me to my feet, a Jaffa who turned out to be Major Cochrane.

"Sir," SG3’s leader said, a huge grin on his face.

"Why are SG2 and 3 here?" I asked vaguely, leaning against a clearly anxious Pitooee "Don’t they have more pressing things to do?"

"They are with me," a warm voice said from behind me, and my shoulders were grasped in large familiar hands.

"Teal’c?" This was one body I didn’t mind leaning against. "SG1?" I had to know.

"Are all well," he looked sad. "I apologize for taking so long in our rescue of you but…"

I cut him off.

"Teal’c, we have no time for this," I said. "Baal has most of the Lossian youths on board somewhere for snake processing at a later date. We need to get to them immediately."

"SG12 have that responsibility," he rumbled, and led me towards the door.

"No wait," I snapped, noticing Pitooee again. "Where’s Krack?"

"Prime Kra’nac is on the planet," Pitooee said with a small bow. "He is leading the assault on the encamped Tau’ri on the planet." He gave me a wide smile. "Lord Baal is most displeased, and even more so in our lack of eradicating these pesky Tau’ri."

"Assault?" I asked, my brain spinning. Krack was Baal’s prime? No wonder he said jump and people asked how high.

Pitooee smiled. "There is no true assault, O’Neill. Most men with prime Kra’nac are Free Jaffa."

"That’s okay then," I muttered, trying vainly to see his features. I couldn’t focus. Something was definitely wrong.

"O’Neill?" Teal’c and the others were getting impatient.

"I’m good," I lied. The room was beginning to spin and I was feeling nauseous.

"You sure?" No one was buying it.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "We need to move?"

"We do."

I took a small step forwards and finally had to face reality. I needed help.

"I don’t think I can walk," I muttered, stuffing my pride down somewhere where it wouldn’t trip me up. I was finally beginning to understand what was happening to me.

I waved vaguely towards the sarcophagus. "Too many sessions in there, and I think the last one was way too short, guys."

I saw Teal’c’s face set into an impassive mask and the horrified glance that Frenchie gave Cochrane and steeled my resolve. "However, I’ll try."

…

Despite being tortured, O’Neill was still in control, and my heart lifted. His skin was clammy and he was breathing shallowly, but he was still my brother warrior.

For a while.

He knew as I did, and to a lesser degree my Tau’ri assistants, that his continued good health would cease soon enough, especially if, as he said, his healing cycle was interrupted too early.

That was worrisome, but it was impossible to dwell on when other priorities were essential.

"O’Neill?

"I’m good T," he said, his dark eyes insisting I believe the lie.

He nodded to our guards.

"Lead on gents."

We led, and he tried to follow, without success.

Despite his vow to the contrary, O’Neill quite simply could not walk, and with the amount of Jaffa in the corridors, we could not assist him.

Cochrane was supporting him one side, Frenchie the other, but after a while they were all but dragging him, and from the face down position of his head, I surmised that O’Neill was unconscious.

"Pituy?" I needed confirmation for what my eyes were seeing.

"I believe that O’Neill is correct and Grang did not allow him sufficient time in the sarcophagus," he answered softly. "Perhaps on the orders of Baal himself. According to prime Kra’nac, our Lord is most displeased to be fighting a Tau’ri force. Perhaps he sees O’Neill as a hostage that he can negotiate with. If that is the case, and Baal has crossed swords with O’Neill before, he will not want him healed."

This would make sense. O’Neill at full strength would be too much for Baal to handle, of that I was certain. A severely weakened O’Neill on the other hand would be easy to manipulate.

I boldly turned down another corridor, coming closer to the ring chamber with each step I took.

O’Neill’s condition was upsetting. I had seen Apophis do similar things when I was his prime, torture a prisoner to death and then semi revive him. Usually this resulted in a slow and agonizing death, but not before Apophis had extracted every piece of information the man possessed, he being too weak to resist. What I was seeing in O’Neill I had indeed seen before, and this worried me greatly.

"Has O’Neill been asked any questions before now?" I asked cautiously, aware that the two Tau’ri were listening closely.

"No sir," Pituy said his back straightening. "This I guarantee by his still being alive. Had Lord Baal requested an audience before you arrived, I would have killed O’Neill myself and severed his head from his body."

"What?" Cochrane hissed, outraged.

"Why?" Frenchie asked, his eyes cold.

"To permanently kill him, as he had already requested I do," Pituy said. "O’Neill was aware of Baal’s plans for him. He asked that he be killed in this fashion if required."

"Jesus." Cochrane’s voice was harsh. "You gotta hand it to the Colonel for sheer guts."

"A good request," I said, keeping my emotions under control. "I am pleased that you were not required to carry it out."

"I am pleased too. He seems a good man," Pituy said, leading us into the ring chamber.

…

"…Why not?"

That was Daniel’s voice.

"Because they are sniping us from the surrounding hills, and are liable to kill you, that’s why."

I recognized Zack Van Ryn’s voice as well, and wondered what the hell they were arguing about.

"Jack needs to get back to the SGC," Daniel said, his voice tight with worry. "Teal’c says he could die."

"I know that," Zack replied, sounding exasperated. "I’m a doctor, remember?"

"Well, can’t I at least try?" Daniel was using his wheedling voice. "I’ll take SG3 with me."

"No."

I knew how he felt. Daniel at full throttle was a handful, and I’d been dealing with him for years.

"The problem, Doctor Jackson, lies not with me, but with those Jaffa up on the hill, all of whom seem to want to blow our heads off."

Daniel changed from wheedling to petulant.

"Pituy says that most of them are Free Jaffa, and would deliberately miss us."

"Most, but not all," Zack said. "Are you willing to risk Jack’s life at this late stage, just to get him home?"

"How is he?" Daniel asked, surrendering by changing the subject.

"Very weak, but besides that, he’s okay."

"Any addiction?" Daniel sounded doom laden, and I knew it was from experience.

"No signs of it, thankfully."

"Doctor?"

Someone must have been sitting with me, and was now raising the alarm.

The voices were much closer now, and I attempted to open my eyes.

"Hi Jack."

"Dan…Zack." Okay, so it was a weak croak but it would have to do.

"How are you feeling?" Zack was staring at a chart someone had given him, his face pensive.

I snorted. "You got my chart. You tell me."

"Elevated blood pressure for a start." He looked at me with those icy blue eyes of his. "You okay?"

"Mentally yes. Physically no."

I knew just as well as he knew that few humans had survived a half session in the sarcophagus. Not that we were experts at it by any means. All we had to go on was what had happened to Marais of SG4 and Sellish from SG11. Both had been pulled from sarchophagus’s before the things had opened naturally.

Both had died within days, succumbing to some kind of organ failure. Now it was my turn.

"You are gonna need advanced life support soon, unless we can get the sarcophagus down here," he murmured. My eyes met those of Teal’c a split second before I made my own decision about my destiny.

"Over my dead body," I said. "You are just gonna have to handle it."

He grimaced. "I’m really not equipped for this type of thing. We need to get you back to Fraiser, but until we can get the surrounding hills clear, we’re not going anywhere."

"Where are we at present?" I asked, putting my mind on other things. Organ failure I could do nothing about. Organizing the troops on the other hand…

All I could see was a row of camp beds with me at the end. I was surrounded by grey canvas, and deduced that it was a tent of some kind.

"Hospital O’Neill," he said sarcastically. "The first patient gets to christen it"

"How close are we to the stargate?" I asked. "And who’s guarding it?"

He was a marine way before he was a doctor, and knew how to give a concise situation report.

"We’re smack bang in a middle of a depression with the Lossian village half a click to our left and the stargate three clicks to our right," he said. "We have SG3 guarding our butts, and SG6 are at the gate. I believe SG2 are working with SG12 to free the youngsters in that monstrosity floating ahead."

So what’s the problem?"

"As I said, the distance isn’t a problem. We can pack up this surgical tent within ten minutes and be ready to go. The problem is…"

"The Jaffa," I said. "I heard."

"They are loyal to Baal, and there lies the problem"

"So what are we meant to do about it?" Daniel said from close to my ear hole.

"Think big," I murmured.

"What?" Zack asked.

"If Baal is the problem, then we take out Baal," I said, struggling to sit upright.

"What… How?" Daniel asked, helping me up despite Zack’s thunderous expression.

"We take out his ship."

My eyes met those of Zack Van Ryn. "I want the leaders of every SG unit on this planet - besides SG6 – assembled here in front of me as soon as possible."

Van Ryn stiffened at the unaccustomed steel in my voice.

"Yes sir."

…

"This is the crappiest plan I have ever come across. Who came up with this?"

My brother was truly back, and my heart lightened. Okay, he was pale and confined to a bed, but he was back in control, and complaining already.

One of the four SG leaders surrounding his bed stiffened, a Lieutenant Colonel called Maddox.

"I did sir."

O’Neill glared at him ferociously.

"Wonderful plan this," he said. "So SG12 are in the midst of removing the Lossians from the ship?"

Maddox nodded. "At this moment sir. We’re returning them to the village. So far we’ve encountered little resistance."

"Of course you haven’t." O’Neill snapped. "Why would he bother when he knows that he can get you like rats in a trap the minute you’re down?"

Maddox wilted slightly, but to his credit, stood his ground.

"SG6 are holding the stargate sir," he blustered.

"So?" O’Neill asked. "That won’t help you once Baal blows you into itty bitty pieces, and I bet you he’ll do that as soon as the last Lossian is planet bound." He glared at the unfortunate man. "You seem to have forgotten that the Goa’uld don’t like defeat. If he can’t have the Lossians as slaves, then nobody gets the Lossians."

O’Neill drew in a breath, obviously not finished with the man.

"As for the unfortunate SG6? he asked. "Major Brent and his men will be next on the Baal hit list, unless your brilliant liberation plan include a proviso for taking out the mothership’s armaments?"

Maddox paled and looked at his feet. "No sir," he muttered.

O’Neill sighed and settled back against his nest of pillows as if he was exasperated.

I knew the real reason, as did Doctor Jackson I believe. O’Neill was very close to total exhaustion, and for this reason alone I hoped that whatever he was planning would be short.

"This is a Mothership people," he said gently, his eyes like stone, belying the lightness in his tone.

"A Mo-the-r-ship." He pronounced each syllable carefully.

"It’s way bigger than a Tel’tac, and a trillion times more dangerous. From what I can remember, it is thirty seven decks deep for a start. That is a shit load of Jaffa for us to avoid."

"We were just going to ring down the last of the villagers and then run like hell to the gate," Maddox said defensively.

"And you were going to do all this without anyone noticing? And without getting shot on the way?"

Maddox nodded, and O’Neill groaned, muttering to himself, his very actions making the tough Maddox shuffle his feet like an initiate.

O’Neill turned to me. "T, if memory serves me right, and it usually does, there are four ring transporters per mothership."

I nodded silently.

O’Neill returned his attention to the unfortunate Maddox.

"So, just how long do you figure it will be before the…oh dammit, the ring officer notices a continued use of his equipment, and not by his own Jaffa?"

"We have it covered," Maddox muttered.

"I don’t think you have," O’Neill said sarcastically. "In fact, I think you are winging it, and one of the wings is close to breaking, and when it does…"

He clicked his fingers. "That will be that. However…"

He held up his hand, and I was amused to see the assembled commanders hanging off his every word.

"However, if we think big…"

…

""That is impossible."

Maddox was beginning to annoy me. Scratch that. Maddox was really pissing me off big time.

"Nothing is impossible," I snapped. "In fact, crashing Baal’s ship is easier than you think." I tried not to let my uncertainties show, and definitely didn’t look at Carter.

I think.

"But it’s huge," Maddox whined.

"Two miles in length and half a mile thick," I snapped, pleased to see that Carter didn’t even twitch. She knew I hadn’t a clue to its actual size, but also knew when not to interrupt me.

"Just how do you want us to go about it sir?" Ferretti was looking as dubious as the others, but was at least trying to wrap his brain about it. I didn’t blame him, really. It was definitely like a scene from Independence Day, but if they could do it, then so could we.

I hoped.

"Carter?" She had had enough time between Maddox’s whining and Ferretti’s question to come up with something.

Right?

"If we reverse the Naquadric sigo polarity to the controls that run the starboard bank of thrusters," she said slowly, "we could conceivably bypass the failsafes, in non recoverable increments."

I nodded wisely.

Her eyes met mine. "The problem with that scenario is the fact that the bridge would react immediately, and initiate an emergency shut down."

"Not if they have problems of their own," I said, thinking fast.

"You want SG2 to trash the bridge?" Ferretti asked, his expression wolfish.

"That could be suicidal," I warned. "I expect Baal to be close by."

"If he’s not still in his chambers, wondering where in the hell you have got to sir," Ferretti said, making me jerk my watch up to my face.

"After an hour?" I snorted, feeling like half a day should have passed, and not just 60 minutes. "I doubt it."

"So he’ll hopefully be on the bridge, and SG2’s problem and SG12 will gradually be taking off the last of the prisoners. Where does that leave SG3 sir?" Cochrane asked.

"You are going to be with Carter," I said, surprised that he had asked. Then again, having two scientists amongst SG1 had forced me to think fast over the years, something the solid marine had never had to do.

"I believe marines are good at blowing things up?"

I got huge grins as replies.

"Well then, whilst Carter is reversing polarity, I want you to be laying down our complete supply of explosives. I held his eyes, letting him know the seriousness of the situation. "If it goes boom, use it," I said, "but always keep an eye on Carter and give yourselves and the other SG teams enough time to get well clear."

"Half an hour?" Cochrane asked the other team leaders.

They all nodded, peering at their watches.

"Half an hour from 14H00," Maddox said. He tapped his radio as it spat static , holding his hand up for silence as someone in SG 12 gave him a lengthily report. Finally he muttered a few words and looked me in the eye.

"According to Captain Ritchie, we still have plenty of Lossians to remove." His eyes met mine, humility in their depths. "And yes, the ring officer did eventually come to investigate the continued use of the transportation, and was dealt with."

"Good," I said.

"So, said Ferretti, "we have SG2 trashing the bridge, SG3 trashing the ship, SG 12 rescuing Lossians and SG6 still hopefully holding the gate. What else?"

"Nothing much," I murmured. "SG5 will stay here, along with the rest of SG1. We’ll move out towards the gate at 14H20."

"This had better be worth it," someone muttered, prompting a swift reply from Carter.

"The planet is swimming in Naquadah," she snapped. "It’s worth it."

"Besides, the snakehead bounced the Colonel," someone else muttered.

"Hey, I’m okay now," I murmured.

"I wish I was a confident as you are," a hitherto silent Van Ryn said. He leaned forwards and checked the readout on some machine attached to my body before regarding the assembled team leaders, his face serious.

"Follow your orders people, but do not under any circumstances rely on Colonel O’Neill overseeing the operation."

"Bad?" Ferretti asked, making me scowl in irritation.

Van Ryn squeezed my shoulder. "Only if I let it become bad," he said.

"Dismissed."

I watched the assorted SG leaders troop out and wondered vaguely when I had lost command of everything.

…

"Teal’c, can you fetch some more water?"

Van Ryn kept his voice low, and I nodded, watching as my brother vainly tried to keep his eyes open, the ever present Daniel Jackson by his side.

"Yes Doctor Van Ryn," I said equally as softly.

I was reluctant to go, having other immediate priorities as well, but knew that Van Ryn was reluctant to send another.

The lake we were using as a source of pure water was to one side of the camp, and one of the main reasons as to why the Tau’ri hospital was set up in such an indefensible spot.

Van Ryn, quite rightly, believed a source of fresh water critical, and had great faith in the protective capabilities of the Tau’ri warriors surrounding him.

I refrained from pointing out that if most of the surrounding Jaffa hadn’t been mostly Free Jaffa, his tiny force would already have been overrun.

"He will still be here when you return," Van Ryn said soothingly, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

""I am certain he will be," I said roughly. "The question in my mind is for how much longer that will remain the case."

My harsh words hit deep, and Van Ryn’s shoulders slumped.

"I’m getting an irregular heartbeat T," he said, unconsciously using my nickname. "This, coupled with his breathlessness and general weakness sends up warning flags."

"Ah." I had no need to ask him about this obscure reference he referred to, as the people on Chulac also used this means of warning. When there was a life threatening malady about, they too sent up flags of warning.

"How serious are your warning flags?" I asked.

"Very," he answered, and I was unsurprised to see Daniel Jackson uncoil from O’Neill’s side and approach us. He had long ears, did that one, and had heard every word.

"We are looking at serious heart problems, people," Van Ryn said, including Daniel Jackson. "I’m not an expert on it – nor ever want to be – but I believe that being repeatedly frozen to death and revived did some serious damage." He shrugged. "Ideally I would love to get him back to the SGC and into Janet’s capable hands as quickly as possible, but this is not an ideal world, is it?"

I shook my head. "No it is not Doctor Van Ryn, nor will it ever be."

"So now what?" Daniel Jackson asked, looking back at a sleeping O’Neill, apprehension written on his features.

"Now all we can do is watch him closely, which believe me, we are doing." Van Ryn shrugged. "There is not much more we can do."

"And what happens if he has a heart attack, perhaps whilst we’re running for the gate?" Daniel Jackson had this knack for asking difficult questions, questions he surely knew the answer to already.

Van Ryn’s eyes flashed in irritation. "Then we stabilize him as much as possible, and hope for the best," he snapped.

"Can’t you fix him?"

Van Ryn shook his head, still visibly irritated. "Not a chance," he said flatly. "No, all we can do is try to get him home alive."

"To face a medical discharge?" Daniel Jackson looked as if he had swallowed something small - complete with spines. "You know that it will come to that."

Van Ryn nodded, looking suddenly weary.

"Most probably, yes." He turned to me. "Unless?"

I shook my head regretfully. "There is no time left to return O‘Neill to the sarcophagus."

Indeed there was not. The assault on Baal’s ship was due to begin soon, and I still had another mission to carry out.

"Then let’s hope Jack dies," Daniel Jackson said, a most uncharacteristic statement coming from him, he justified it with his next words. "Because faced with a medical discharge, Jack would most certainly prefer death."

"It’s a pity we have no Tok’ra close," Van Ryn said soulfully. "Say with a healing device."

His words made me think hard, something Daniel Jackson noticed.

"Teal’c?"

Baal would have a healing device.

Small, and infinitely more maneuverable than a sarcophagus, it would take mere seconds to snatch it and return to the planet. The problem was, even if I bought it to O’Neill, without Samantha Carter by his side, it would be useless.

Or would it? I thought back to the first time Baal and O’Neill had met, and to the circumstances that had led to that first meeting. I had not been O’Neill’s actions that had led to his capture, but the Tok’ra that had inhabited his body at the time.

This Tok’ra, Kanaan, was long gone, but perhaps O’Neill could access what he had left behind.

I stared up at part of the surrounding hill, visible from where I had begun to open the tent flap in my almost forgotten quest for water. "If I combine my missions together…" I said aloud, thinking hard. "It is conceivable…"

I left my thoughts there, not daring to continue lest I was wrong.

"What missions?"

I decided to answer only half of Daniel Jackson’s question.

"I also have need to inform prime Kra’nac of the assault to come, and O’Neill’s desirous outcome," I said. "Then, once I have informed the prime, we both must find time to ring to the ship to warn any Free Jaffa who remain onboard."

I would snatch the healing device then.

"Jesus," Van Ryn exclaimed, staring at his watch. "You’re cutting things a bit close, aren’t you?"

I shook my head, stifling the last echoes of hope from my mind. "Perhaps, but then, everything has it’s time, even death and destruction."

I shrugged, knowing that I was annoying them both and taking strange satisfaction from that feeling. "What will happen will happen in its own time, but first - your water."

Feeling slightly guilty, I grabbed an empty can and rapidly exited the tent.

…

"He’s feeling remarkably Zen today isn’t he?"

I almost smiled at Zack’s explosive comment, but decided not to. My being awake would only send Daniel back to my side, and I really wanted some space for a while.

I was feeling really sick and miserable, and contrary to popular belief, misery doesn’t always love company.

"Sometimes Teal’c gets like that," Daniel said defensively. "He also achieves the impossible really fast."

I heard Zack sigh. "I hope you’re right, those Jaffa people deserve to have a warning."

"I’m hoping he gets there before Ferretti and the others blow that ship to kingdom come," Daniel said, sitting at my side again with a weary sigh.

"Won’t that be a sight," Zack said, wonderment beginning to flood into his voice. "I can’t believe we are actually thinking of taking down something that big."

"Be glad we’re directly underneath it," Daniel said darkly. "It’s gonna slope to the left, or to the right when it comes down, and anything in its projected path is gonna be trashed."

"You figure it going to miss the Stargate?" Van Ryn asked, and I almost smiled, listening to the career officer asking the civilian for reassurance, wondering if Daniel even realized just how far removed he was from being a civilian now.

"Oh sure, by miles," he said confidently. "By miles."

…

Delivering the water to Van Ryn was easy. Leaving my brother yet again was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do.

He was semi conscious, or at least aware enough to understand that my mission was critical, of that I was certain, although he never once opened his eyes. Instead he lay like a crumpled doll, connected to the multitude of Tau’ri wires Van Ryn insisted he had need of, and conserved his strength.

I left without a word, not looking back, fixing my eyes on the distant hills instead. What would be would be.

"Master Teal’c?"

Prime Kra’nac was extremely good on sneaking up on an unwary Jaffa, and if it had not been for the slight clink as his shoe disturbed a stone, I would have been caught unawares.

"The Tau’ri intend to destroy Baal’s ship." I saw no reason to delay in giving him the news. To his credit he merely nodded, his face impassive.

"Then we must gate up at once, to warn Putuy and the other Free Jaffa."

"Indeed we must." I grabbed his shoulder as he turned away, a breach of etiquette I could not help. "Whilst we are there, I have another mission I must fulfill, one that could conceivably spare O’Neill’s life."

Kra’nac took no insult from my hand on his body.

"O’Neill is dying?" His dark eyes were concerned, making me wonder if O’Neill had made as much of an impression on Kra’nac as he had made on me in that jail in Chulac so many years ago. From his attitude I surmised that he had.

"By degrees," I answered, echoing his grimace.

"Damn that Grang and his sarcophagus," Kra’nac spat. He stared up into the surrounding hills, where his men lay hidden from view. "Nevertheless, his dying will be avenged if he obtains freedom for me and my men."

"Perhaps he has no need to die," I said, moving to where I knew the rings would be.

This time it was Kra’nac who grabbed my arm.

"You live in a fools paradise, my friend," he warned. "Even a Jaffa cannot withstand an incomplete session in a sarcophagus, and O’Neill’s session was especially short.

"That I am aware of," I said, "and even now he struggles not to journey into the afterlife, but I have a plan."

"Oh?"

All Jaffa loved a good plan.

"It entails finding Lord Baal’s healing device and taking it to O’Neill."

"For what purpose?" Kra’nac asked, his fingers hovering above the ring device strapped to his wrist. "He is not a Goa’uld. He cannot use one."

"Ah, but he once was a Goa’uld," I replied, smiling as Kra’nac’s incredulous face disappeared into whiteness as the rings took us.

"Jack!"

Someone was calling me, as if from far away.

"Clear!"

It was so peaceful, and I was warm. I remembered being so bitterly cold, and now I was warm I didn’t want to move.

"Jack?"

Whoever that person was, he was intruding on my warm retreat, making me annoyed.

"That’s it Jack!"

Then, like a dash of icy water, the cold returned and I moaned.

"C’mon dammit!"

People were talking over me, their voices urgent, and I felt an icy pain in my chest, a pain so sharp it made me cough and cough and finally open my eyes, blinking through the tears.

"Jack?"

I couldn’t speak, even look at him, but my hand found his and I gave a slight squeeze.

"Thank God." Daniel’s voice was choked with tears.

"Thank God," someone else echoed. "That was way too fucking close."

…

I have rarely seen a Jaffa display such shock, and I felt for the symbiote Kra’nac still carried within him, unlike myself.

"O’Neill is a Goa’uld?"

"A Tok’ra", I muttered, peering out into a deserted hallway. "He was joined with a Tok’ra called Kanaan, but they did not blend."

"I have heard of such things," Kra’nac said softly. "Of a Goa’uld and host refusing to blend. Usually the host is driven mad."

"In O’Neill’s case the Tok’ra died," I said, refusing to go into the small details. Kra’nac had sufficient information to go on.

"That is how Lord Baal captured him the first time, Kra’nac said, looking enlightened. "I was merely a senior Jaffa, and Pituy was not even in Baal’s service when Lord Baal first captured O’Neill, but I clearly remember him saying that he had caught a Tok’ra."

"Indeed," I said.

"He is a Tok’ra no longer," I elaborated when that answer proved unsatisfactory. "However, I do believe he still retains sufficient amounts of Naquadah in his blood for the healing device to work."

If he could be convinced to try, I thought privately to myself, aware of how O’Neill had felt about his Goa’uld passenger.

‘Lord Baal’s chambers are…" Kra’nac started to say, only to be silenced by the most terrible sound that anyone who has ever been in deep space ever wants to hear – a grating groan of Naquadah engines imploding.

"Quickly," I snapped, bringing Kra’nac out of his incredulous position. "Find the Free Jaffa and take them to the planet."

"I’m sure that they are already doing so," he yelled, for the noise had reached a deafening crescendo. "But I will find out for sure," he added, seeing my expression.

"Then I will take my leave, and see you back on the planet," I said, turning on my heel before he could waste any more of my precious time.

No, O’Neill’s precious time.

Finding Lord Baal’s chambers was easy, despite the listing floors and the ever present sound of a catastrophic Naquadah meltdown. Finding where the false God had hidden his healing device less so, but finally I triumphed, and heart in mouth, I headed back to the ring room.

I no longer walked as if I was hiding something, for the passageway was filled with frantic Jaffa, and my mark of servitude to another god was no longer focused on by anyone of importance.

Fighting my way through the throng, I finally reached the doors to the ring room, where I paused for breath.

Now was the difficult part. The eerie noise had been joined by dull thuds that shook the ship, and I was in no doubt that the marines of SG3 had finally added their Tau’ri explosives to the general mayhem, hastening the final death call.

Now all I had to do was stay alive, remain unrecognized, and gate down safely to the planet, all whilst holding on to something that would mean instant death to any Jaffa caught with it.

‘Teal’c?"

I jumped at Putuy’s touch, but as no one could hear at all well, he took it in his stride.

"Prime Kra’nac is on the planet," he yelled, as are all the Free Jaffa."

He glared at the frightened population surrounding me and spat two inches from his left toe.

"We have the rings, and are ready when you are."

I nodded, finally understanding the reason why the Jaffa surrounding me were acting so frantic – no one could leave whilst Putuy kept the rings from activating, and everyone wanted to leave.

"Then let us depart," I yelled, and pushed my way into the gateroom.

…

"Would ya look at that?"

I didn’t recognize the voice, and wasn’t prepared to look, even if they paid me.

"Whooee!, lookit that baby burn."

The voices were on the outside of the tent, and I surmised that they had to be some of Fraiser’s nurses, or perhaps some of SG5 itself. My sluggish thoughts were confirmed when I heard the furious voice of Zack Van Ryn.

"Gomez, Patterson, If that is how Fraiser trains her nurses I’m gonna have her up on report as soon as we get home."

Two excited voices immediately became contrite.

"Sorry sir, we were just…"

"Packing up the latrine," Van Ryn said in a steely voice. "Move it."

I smiled as the tent flap was tossed open and Zack’s blonde head poked in.

"Handing out shit assignments?" I murmured, making him start with surprise.

"Jack?"

He was instantly by my side, giving all the equipment surrounding me a quick scan.

"Tis okay," I said quietly. "They’d scream loudly if I had tried to escape."

He gave me a half smile. "I bet they would."

Things were slowly beginning to come into focus, or the drugs were wearing off, but I was becoming aware of a droning crackling sound, a sound I didn’t usually associate with the pretty planet of Lossia.

"Zack?"

"The ship is breaking up," he confirmed. "It’s drifting as well, out to sea as it does so."

"The SG units?"

His eyes clouded over. "SG12 is down with all the Lossians tucked in tight, and SG6 still have the gate, but SG’s 1,2 and 3 are still unaccounted for." He hesitated. "I say SG1 because Teal’c is up there as well."

My heart did a little flippity flop, making Zack frown and instantly prepare an injection of some kind.

"Daniel?"

"Is supervising the dismantling of Camp O’Neill," he said without a trace of sarcasm. "Your tent will be the last to go."

"Me with it, I hope," I murmured, watching as he skillfully injected whatever it was into my IV line.

"As long as you don’t do the heart attack and almost dying routine on us again, he muttered, and I realized that my unrealistic dream had actually been a harsh reality.

"Sorry," I murmured, and then smiled as a large presence loomed just behind Van Ryn.

"Teal’c. What kept you, old buddy?"

…

O’Neill was so pale faced he was almost gray, but he was still alive, and for that I thanked the one true God.

"This," I replied, answering his question, and pulled out the healing device. "This kept me."

"Oh?" He narrowed his eyes, struggling against the obvious narcotics that the Tau’ri insist on using. "Is that a healing device? What am I meant to do with that?"

I could see that O’Neill had no idea as to what I wished him to try, but Van Ryn did, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Jack?" he asked his friend, his voice low and soothing, the commotion from the sky overhead now forgotten in his single minded quest to heal his friend. "Remember when I took your dog tags from you a while back?"

"Yeees?" O’Neill answered, looking suspicious despite his glazed eyes. "You said that you wanted to change my blood group."

"Did you ever wonder why?"

"Because I had excessive amounts of Naquadah in my blood," O’Neill said in a sing song voice, making me fear that the healing device would not work. If O’Neill could not concentrate, his life and his career at the SGC could very well be forfeit.

"…Caused by my being almost blended with that damn snake…"

I saw the exact moment when O’Neill realized what I wished him to try.

"Teal’c?"

I looked at him impassively, my hands clasped loosely behind my back.

O’Neill’s eyes narrowed. "Oh no. I’m not some damn Tok’ra."

"Perhaps."

Some spark, dulled by the narcotics, flashed in his eyes – a spark that had he been sober I would have believed to be one of stark fear.

"I do not have a snake in me." His pronunciation was exquisitely precise.

"No one said you did," Van Ryn said soothingly. "We just want you to try to use it. Like Sam has in the past."

"Please, O’Neill." I too could beg when the situation warranted it.

O’Neill’s eyes flashed to mine, surprise in their depths.

"T?"

"Consider this ‘payback’ for insisting that I leave you to die in the Lossian village," I said.

I very rarely used Tau’ri slang, but this time I felt the ends justified the means.

"Hokay then." A gaunt hand reached for the bronze device, and I carefully gave it to him.

"What do I do?"

I had no idea.

"Major Carter holds the device over the affected area and shuts her eyes," Van Ryn said helpfully. My look made him flinch. "So I’ve been told," he continued in a soft voice. "Perhaps that’s what Jack needs to do too. Just hold the…thing over his heart, and relax."

…

This was ridiculous. If I got any more relaxed I’d be dead, and as for the healing device?

Please.

Nevertheless, I held the device exactly as they asked, and took a deep breath.

"Now what?" I muttered.

"Become one with the machine," Teal’c intoned, still on his Zen trip. "Feel your blood strengthen you, allowing you to control it."

"Yeah right," I said, but nevertheless did as he asked, only to feel something strange, something that wasn’t…me.

"Jack….Jack yes."

My eyes snapped open at Zack’s exultant cry, to see Daniel standing in the doorway, his hand frozen on the tent flap.

"Was that what I thought I saw?" he said faintly.

Van Ryn almost danced around him.

"Yes it was, Doctor Jackson. That was the healing device in operation for a brief moment."

Daniel’s voice was cool.

"What are you doing Doctor Van Ryn?"

Zack’s smile slipped, and I decided to intervene; besides I was feeling much more awake now.

"Zack and Teal’c think that I can use this thing, and you know, they may be right."

I could see Daniel digest this for a nanosecond or two, and then he smiled.

"So go for it then."

So I shut my eyes, lay back, and went for it.

…

I was pleased.

I was chilled.

Only the gods I have been raised to fear used the device better.

Even Samantha Carter hadn’t used it anywhere near as well as O’Neill was doing, and despite all the things that had happened to me between then and now, I still had to shake of the urge to kneel in front of him and press my face to the ground as a god would demand.

"This is fun, and I’m feeling so much better."

It was his voice that broke my thrall, making me immediately step forwards and pull the device from his grasp.

"That may be, but it takes energy to heal yourself, and you have no energy to spare."

"Oh, a catch 22 situation," Daniel Jackson said, making me glower at him unhappily until he hastily elaborated. "It means, well, Jack needs to be cured, but he has not the energy to do so."

"That is what I said, Daniel Jackson," I said, wondering if he was feeling alright.

"But Jack needs the energy to be cured, yet he has none, so can’t be cured," Daniel said brightly, thus obscuring things even more so than before.

"Daniel, did you have something to tell me?" O’Neill growled from the bed.

"Oh yes," Daniel Jackson said, smacking his forehead in what I would have thought was quite a painful manner. "Major Cochrane’s SG 3, complete with Sam, have ringed down straight to the gate." He jerked a thumb up at the muffled booming sounds coming from overhead.

"SG2 are still up there."

O’Neill took that as a personal insult

"Tell him to get his sorry white butt down here now, complete with his team," he barked.

We all knew to whom he referred, seeing as the skin color of the rest of Ferretti’s team was black.

Daniel Jackson seemed to wilt, but held his ground.

"But they can’t find Baal," he whined.

That just got O’Neill sighing.

"But of course they can’t," he said, throwing his hands into the air.

"Whatever else did I expect?"

…

"So there you have it."

I stared across the briefing room table at General Hammond, a small smile on my face.

He leaned back in his chair and whistled.

"Pretty impressive Colonel."

I shrugged modestly. Well, at least I tried.

"Of course, the minute I set foot on the ramp I was dragged off kicking and screaming to the infirmary, but you’ll be pleased to know that I can still wield that healing doohickey, although it takes a lot out of me each time I use it."

"Tell me about it," Carter muttered from my left, and I grinned at her.

"So what now sir?" Lieutenant Colonel Maddox was shifting impatiently in his seat, and I exchanged a quick glance with Hammond. We had had a lot to talk about in the two days I had recovered in the infirmary before this official briefing, and I knew precisely what he was going to say.

"In your case, you go back to GK6 3K7, Hammond said, frowning at Maddox’s crestfallen expression. "We have a lot of goodwill there now, as well as a downed mothership to investigate, and SG12’s expertise will be needed."

I smiled at him blandly, not envying him a bit. The Lossian planet was heading into winter, and primitive as they were, I didn’t think that they had invented central heating yet.

"I have discussed this with Teal’c and Bra’tac," I said, smoothly taking over the briefing, "and they have agreed to return to the planet with you in order to co ordinate the Free Jaffa and dispatch, or whatever they do, the remaining loyal ones."

"Of course, you’ll be in charge," General Hammond said, and Maddox nodded as if he believed it, poor schmuck.

"SG’s 2, 3 and 6 are on a weeks stand down," I said, leaving Maddox in no doubt as to my displeasure in his leadership qualities.

However, as cruel as I was to Maddox, I was even crueler to my own team, not because I wanted to, but because it was necessary.

"SG1 will remain here on base," I said. "Daniel, Teal’c and I will be sifting through any and all data that SG 12 can give us from the downed ship. Carter will be after the Naquadah."

"SG1 will be helping us out too sir?" Maddox asked, his eyes wide.

I grimaced, remembering the reason why we went to that accursed planet in the first place.

"Yes Maddox," I said with a sigh. "SG1, with two scientists, a former host, and a Jaffa, are more than uniquely qualified to help SG 12, don’t you agree?"

Everyone nodded.

EINDE

BetaTested by CiGiK – Cape Town, South Africa - Monday 19^th January 2004