Chapter Three

Jack stepped through the gate and immediately went on full alert; his feeling of impending disaster still dogged him as he scanned the area. Carter worked on checking the DHD as Teal'c maintained a vigil over her. Daniel shrugged out of his backpack as he walked toward them.

"Now this is more like it," Jack grinned to hide his own doubts; he didn't want the team distracted by an old colonel's imaginings. The last mission had been way beyond bizarre and calculating the odds that this would be anything other than a milk run would have given even Thor a throbbing headache, and he had one of those superduper whiz-bang Asgard computers to do his thinking.

He surveyed the small clearing around the Stargate, surrounded on all sides by trees, lots of trees, thick with bushes that could hide a battalion. Jack had yet to see a problem - even a sign of a problem - since their arrival; but then again he hadn't seen anything that could allay his concern either.

Daniel turned and raised his eyebrows in a question.

"Trees," Jack kept his answer short, refusing to be distracted by Daniel, as he continued to do his own personal recon of the immediate area. All that cover was a huge honkin' concern and the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.

"Yes..." Daniel looked confused and the linguist who was fluent in so many languages managed to make that one word into a question.

"Or would you prefer the butt-end of a Titan missile?"

"Oh," Daniel's face cleared as he realized what Jack was referring to. "I get your point. And yes, trees are a distinct improvement."

"From what I can tell, it works, sir," Carter called from the DHD.

"So far we're batting a thousand then," Jack commented as he walked down the steps to stand next to Daniel. The archeologist worked intently on rearranging the contents of his bulging pack while Jack keyed his radio. "Sierra Golf one-niner to Hammond, come in."

"This is Hammond."

"Have arrived safely and Carter says the DHD will get us back home. Next contact will be..." he consulted his watch, "In twenty-four-hours; I say again, next contact in twenty-four hours."

"Roger that, Sierra Golf one-niner, we'll expect your next radio contact in twenty-four hours. Hammond, out."

Seconds later, the gate winked out and Jack strained to hear all he could in the sudden silence before he turned to Carter. "Which way to your interesting-looking wreck, Carter?"

She pursed her lips and shaded her eyes as she glanced around. "According to the UAV, they should be about five klicks..." she paused and then pointed to her right toward a break in the forest, "That way, sir."

His eyes followed the line of her finger so that he felt rather than saw the blast that felled Daniel. Its delayed roar arrived as his friend's body slammed into him, burned flesh seared his nostrils as he fell under the limp weight, and the contents of the grounded backpack scattered about their owner. Automatically his arms encircled Daniel, to cushion him, to protect him.

Daniel's blue eyes stared sightlessly ahead, wide with surprise and shock. His lips were slightly parted as if to protest the unexpected attack on his person - in no fewer than fifty words of five syllables each and in twenty different languages. So real was this impression that only with a supreme effort of will could Jack yank his attention away from his friend's unnaturally quiescent face.

Another hollow roar jerked his attention away from the smoking hole in Daniel's chest just in time to see that Teal'c had been the source of the second energy discharge. His muscular body slightly crouched to spring, his activated staff weapon swung toward the dark shapes that had been bushes between the tightly packed trees at the edge of the small clearing.

Three blazing lances of fire met and enveloped his friend, his back arched and his cry of pain drowned by the shouts of their attackers, and the sizzle of zats and the ka-whump of staff weapons.

Jack knew that Daniel was dead, that Teal'c probably was too and in the few seconds that he'd been sprawled across the ground stunned at the swift change of fortune at least two zat discharges had miraculously missed him. Never before had Jack been so grateful that there were few Jaffa masters like Bra'tac, none of the warriors under his tutelage would have survived to be such bad shots.

Flogging his brain into action Jack assessed the opposition - Jaffa - lots of Jaffa and all firing at once. And amid thoughts of self-recrimination - they'd obviously walked into an ambush, one that he hadn't seen - he searched for the rest of his team.

"Colonel!"

Ruthlessly, he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind; it was time to concentrate on what he could do rather than what he hadn't. Carter's shout showed him that she had used the DHD as shelter and answered the horrific weapons fire with her zat. Blue bolts flew as fast as it could discharge, but it was clear that the Jaffa were willing to brave her less than lethal fire. Sheer numbers would soon overwhelm her.

Automatically he checked his own situation and found no warriors close by. Having fallen to the ground must have painted him as no threat. If he turned and ran, he could make the trees before any of them could stop him. But he was a man that would never think such a thing except in the course of listing options. This one was a big honkin' non.

Jack tried not to acknowledge what was happening to Teal'c. A crowd of Jaffa crowded around the still-moving man, jeering and tormenting his death throes with jabs of their staff weapons. Not being able to do anything for his warrior brother, Jack rolled to his feet, pulling his 9-mil as he leaned into his first step toward Carter and her soon-to-be hopeless position.

His weapon barked as his boot hit the ground and the Jaffa nearest to his goal dropped like a stone; another at his next step, and the next. His deadly use of force caused the Jaffa vultures to pull back a step and allowed him to reach his 2IC.

The Jaffa were no longer content to go hand-to-hand and now employed staff blasts, forcing Carter to abandon her position. She rose from her crouch just as he arrived. Almost too late, he saw a staff zero in on her. Jack reached out and embraced her, swinging her around. Their eyes met just as the blast struck him in the back.

He read the dismay in her bright blue eyes as he could feel the hot blood rising up in his throat. Somehow all had become silent, only he and she existed. In slow motion, her expression changed as her sensual mouth formed an 'O'. Her grip on him tightened and he responded in kind.

Being a man of war all his life he realized that she too had been struck a fatal blow. They were just two of a kind, too stubborn to fall down dead to convenience any enemy. So much passed between them in the endless seconds as identical wounds stole their last breaths.

Unable to share that last breath with the woman he knew he loved, the only thing Jack could do was to imagine that their lips met, sealed with each other's blood in a bond eternal. Death would not be the end of this thing that existed between them. Darkness overtook him, but she was still there as they both finally fell.

***

Ever watchful, Teal'c kept one eye on the tree line and one on O'Neill as he organized SG-1 to march out. The sudden flash of light that blew DanielJackson into his warrior brother's arms seemed surreal, no warning, no sign; except that O'Neill had exuded the type of worry only another warrior could recognize.

Teal'c had long ago recognized that his leader was the closest to the fabled warrior seers of Jaffa legend. The man could feel impending danger. He too had packed extra equipment based on his observation of O'Neill. Whereas his friend had packed weapons, he had packed food and medical supplies. Survival was virtually assured through O'Neill's leadership, but none would survive unscathed.

At last, the sound told him from where the blast had come and from whom. Swiftly, elegantly, his fingers sure on the well-known alien metal of his staff weapon, it was activated and aimed in one sure move. With a stab of thought the Jaffa that had struck at his companions died. And at the nearly the same instant he realized that this Jaffa was one of many.

The whole of the clearing was ringed in Jaffa, both, Horus and Serpent Guards joined in a common task. Only a Goa'uld of extraordinary strength and influence could muster such diverse numbers.

Involuntarily he roared in pain, his symbiote squealed within. Hot knives tore him asunder from all sides. Before his widened eyes, the clear mint-colored sky of this world dimmed to not quite dark, as nearly all sensation of pain and connection with his body disappeared.

So sudden was this dislocation that he blinked his eyes more than once before he recognized that he lay in the dirt. As he watched from his supine position, O'Neill exploded from the ground leaving behind DanielJackson. He grieved for he knew that one would not leave the other if they both lived, not without some sign or gesture between them.

Teal'c tried mightily to help, to rise, to render aid. His wishes and desires were as smoke in the face of a storm. So he was forced to watch as his brother of the soul killed with ease those that sought to keep him from the last of SG-1. He knew that his brother had sure knowledge that he lay dying and powerless, only able to witness O'Neill's desperate struggle to salvage what he could.

The next moments came in fleeting flashes seen though the shifting legs of the cowardly Jaffa that had ambushed them all. Teal'c felt not the kicks and jabs from them as they surrounded him. Their spoken insults were like gnats that could be ignored. His spirit ached to provide support, but inwardly felt a smug satisfaction as O'Neill 'kicked ass.'

His admiration swelled but was soon overtaken by a flood of sorrow as one of the wild shots from the unnerved Jaffa found his brother's unprotected back. He had not been there to stop the deadly bolt of energy, and at that, he felt an impotent anger; one he could not even voice to taunt his tight circle of tormentors.

MajorCarter... Samantha, saved by O'Neill's selfless act held her colonel upright, only to be slammed into a tight embrace as she was struck in identical kind. The horror of the scene washed away. Teal'c only saw two people who loved one another embraced in death. He could feel the words flow between them, the regret of never having experienced the closeness that they now mimicked.

He imagined he saw the light of their souls pour forth and join, to ascend as one. He wished it so; though he knew it probably had more to do with the last kick to his head. For he knew that where there were Jaffa, there were Goa'uld - and the Goa'uld never traveled far without a sarcophagus.

SG-1 may have died before his eyes. But they would not remain so long.

Death was stealing up on him, the world became very small, and he could see little and feel nothing. His whole universe became just one desire - to live. That one goal could prove the salvation of his friends. For nothing would stand between him and their recovery.

'I must live. I. Must. Live.'

Junior rolled frantically, sealed within the dying flesh of his nursery. Similar thoughts of survival flashed across his egotistical mind, but for very, very different reasons. He was a living god and gods do not die.

***

Silence - and it seemed all the more so compared to the din of the previous short-lived battle. The members of SG-1 lay where they had fallen, arms splayed in unnaturally still poses. Smoke drifted from charred bits of flesh and clothing.

Amongst this macabre scene strutted the Jaffa who had been its cause - and the Goa'uld who had ordered it. Her red shoulder-length hair sparkled as the setting sun shone its final shaft of light over the distant hills before it too died, sinking below the horizon.

Clad in shimmering form-fitting gold robes like the queen that she was, Hathor progressed among the dead, fastidiously avoiding contact with them. Her eyes flashed golden and she smiled, her perfect teeth pearl-white between ruby-red lips. She yearned for the comfort to be found within her chambers onboard her Ha'tak, but had deemed it necessary to inspect the results of her successful subterfuge.

Pausing to view their bodies, Hathor studied the faces of the three dead Tau'ri. The body of her love lay alone, abandoned by his so-called friend. He had sired her murdered children and might still prove worthy to be her mate. And the male and female who had dared defy her; they also would serve her needs.

"Take all but the Shol'va to the sarcophagus, and see that the Tau'ri do not remember what has occurred here," she ordered her Jaffa in a loud regal voice.

Hathor sighed with pleasure as she observed the smooth ripple of muscle in her personal slaves as the Tau'ri were gathered up to be resurrected. Only to herself did she declare, "To Us will they depart all of their knowledge."

The End