Chapter 15 -- One Month Later...

"Hold." Iazi's softly-spoken hiss of warning alerted Daniel to the action of Syrus and Elidih as the two more experienced Nihilists each held up a hand, stopping the small unit in their tracks. Daniel was relieved, to say the least, that these people were so good at what they did, so in tune with their surroundings, else none of them would have lived very long--even weeks after joining up with their forces, Daniel still had to closely watch where he placed his feet when moving through the forest, keeping his steps as silent as possible. Despite Jack's care not to tell to what extent Kristof's dislike of him actually went, Daniel wasn't stupid. His reluctance to use one of the Nihilist la'tum rifles and his reaction to said weapons had been enough to put off any hope that the soldiers would accept him for the warrior his team had initially made him out to be. In fact, the only one who regarded him with anything resembling respect was Iazi, and more often than not Daniel got the feeling she was doing nothing more than patronizing him, appointing herself as a sort of 'big sister' figure. 'As if I don't get enough of that from Sam,' he thought with a grimace.

*Loyalists?* he questioned with his hands now, utilizing the intricate code of finger and hand gestures he'd immersed himself in learning with Iazi as his tutor, trying to assimilate into the ranks as much as he could. It had been difficult to deduce what the signals had meant at first; because each Nihilist wore the hood of their cloak pulled up to just below their eyes, and the lack of facial expressions made it tricky to identify a question from an order. *Where?*

Up ahead, Syrus was rapidly motioning, sending Coran to Daniel's side, moving Iazi to partner with Elidih, and bringing Behin up to his own side. *Coming from the North* he signed rapidly, *at least twelve. Units...three, four apiece. No noise if possible. Keep it clean, keep it from above.* Then, in swift moves that never failed to impress Daniel, Syrus boosted Behin up onto a low hanging branch, and swung himself up with a grace that belied his age when the boy continued to climb, finding branch after branch as foot and handholds. Daniel followed Coran as the younger man dropped back about fifty yards from where Behin and Syrus had fled into the upper canopy, and Daniel hoisted Coran up, gratefully accepting the arm that stretched down as leverage to get himself up. Ahead of Behin and Syrus, Elidih and Iazi were performing much the same maneuvers to vanish from sight.

It wasn't a strategy employed very often by the Nihilists, but it was one that was constantly effective. The woods were so thick, the trees so complex and structured, that one could navigate the branches as a secondary roadway; with skill and grace, they could pass right above any traveller on the path without being detected. Daniel still wasn't particularly adept at moving soundlessly through the thick leaves and branches that tended to creak as weight was placed on them, but early on in training his marksmanship had impressed a grudging Syrus, and he could take down Loyalists from a safe distance in the trees without alerting the enemies to the presence of his companions.

Up ahead, Coran pressed a finger to his lips and pointed down. *Below and behind. Wait for my signal. Aim high. Clean and tight.* Daniel touched his index finger to his forehead in acknowledgement and carefully eased his Beretta from its holster. He'd discovered in the early part of his 'training' that the MP-5 was too bulky to effectively navigate this kind of operation, so he'd stowed the three Berettas acquired from himself, Jack and Sam for these sorts of situations. Daniel froze any motion and held his breath as soft footfalls became audible, and then the green-clad Loyalists began passing beneath them. Four, six, then eight moved under Daniel and Coran's position, and Coran slowly lifted his left hand, gesturing for standby, eyes shifting to watch Syrus, waiting for the grizzled older man to make his move. Coran's right hand rested on the hilt of his knife, and when his left hand dropped, Daniel took aim at the first lagging Loyalist in the group that he could see clearly, not firing a shot until he heard the strangled choke that indicated a man's throat being cut. Those were the only sounds that ever seemed to be audible on missions like these--nothing that indicated that humans were the perpetrators, the takers of these lives, but just the sounds of life being taken. It was unnerving, to say the least, but Daniel nonetheless fired the Beretta, doing well not to close his eyes as the bullet took his target, a surprised woman, between the eyes. He was unable to stop the rush of relief that the splattering gore couldn't reach him, though, and fleetingly he wondered where Jack, Sam and Teal'c were at the moment. He hoped they were faring better than he was.

---

"How do you think Daniel's doing?" Carter asked in a low voice as she laid flat on her stomach between Jack and Teal'c, the trio waiting with poorly disguised impatience for their targets to show up. Teal'c, in fact, had taken the opportunity to get in a bit of quality Kel-no-reem, making him one of the least productive conversationalists to be on duty with.

"Probably a hell of a lot better than we are," Jack muttered. "He's probably got himself planted way up in a tree, out of sight, out of danger, just shooting..." He trailed off; if Daniel was sitting up in a tree shooting people right now, the archaeologist probably wouldn't call that 'doing well' at all. "Probably no better than we are," Jack corrected with a sigh. If anything, Daniel probably thought he was much worse off than his teammates.

Carter echoed his sigh and grimaced as she attempted to adjust her position without rearing up too much. It was early morning, barely past sunrise, and the ground was damp and cold; not seriously so, but enough to make them uncomfortable, especially considering they'd been lying there for nearly three hours. "How long did Kristof say the Loyalists take to get here?" she asked, irritation audible in her voice for the first time since they'd arrived.

"I don't know; a few hours, I think." Jack always failed at hiding his irritation at the Nihilists' methods, and this time was no different; Kristof had placed Jack, Carter and Teal'c among the units in charge of this joke of a 'mission'--waiting for the Loyalists who, according to the information man, Behin, were making a 'harvesting' trek to the East township to make their return trip--a trip they would have no idea was underway until their scouts, specially-chosen soldiers who were adept at moving without giving any sign of their passing, brought back the heads-up. Jack's orders were to take out as many soldiers and recruit as many captive villagers as possible. Jack had scoffed--Kristof and his men always seemed to be making the Loyalists out to be uncompromising bad guys, and from what Jack had seen they weren't always in the wrong. But this 'harvest', the recruitment technique employed by the Loyalists, was no different from what the Nihilists were doing in return. What wasn't mentioned in the initial briefing that morning, but understood by all involved, was that if the captive villagers refused recruitment by the Nihilists, they were to be treated as enemies; written off as casualties of war to keep the Nihilists' identities secret.

What angered Jack even more was that Kristof always seemed to send more people than were necessary on these types of little excursions, and only sent anywhere from six to eight on the kind of task Daniel was on. There tended to be less Loyalists journeying with villagers, and it seemed a bit like overkill to send nearly thirty men to meet them, and less than ten to meet the few dozen that continuously patrolled the woods and surrounding areas. Jack couldn't help but think that the decanz was intentionally trying to set Daniel up for a fall, and he prayed that the younger man wouldn't do anything stupid to prove the stubbornly opinionated Frihet soldiers right.

Carter grimaced and shifted again, but froze as her hand snapped a branch beneath it. Jack tensed automatically; it seemed any little sound could carry for miles through the woods, and if their position was given away this late in the game...

From across the roadway, Fahrn signalled for Carter to join her. The Captain puffed a resigned sigh, checking out the directions she could see before scuttling quickly forward on her stomach across the open path. Jack held his breath until she was safely across the way and hidden in the strategically placed, yet inconspicuous cover set up by Fahrn and Pege, another woman in the unit. Fahrn began berating Carter quietly, Jack could see, and he and his 2IC traded chagrined looks as Carter visibly tuned her out and refocussed down the path, paying extra attention to any movement coming from the East.

The quietest rustle in the tree above Jack heralded the arrival of Callan, a fourteen year old, the youngest of the Nihilists, a boy whose slight build and natural grace made him one of the perfect scouts. He'd been sent a ways up the road by tree canopy to watch for the enemy approach, and now with eager eyes visible over his cowl and flying fingers, he rapidly signed to Jack and Teal'c. *Four units, four in each. Thirteen citizens; ten adults, three children.*

Jack gave the boy a wink and sent him on again to alert those Nihilists who were positioned at scattered points at the treeline, and then relayed the message across to Fahrn, whose eyes blazed as she acknowledged the information. Jack caught a glimpse of Carter and Pege moving from their cover, further back into the woods. A few minutes later, he heard the detectable rustle of movement from further up the path. "Here we go," Jack murmured, giving Teal'c a nudge.

Not surprisingly, Teal'c was already 'awake', as it were, and ready for action. "Indeed." The Jaffa readied his la'tum and positioned it at an angle that aimed toward the ground--a method SG-1 had discovered minimized flying shrapnel from the la'tum projectiles, decreasing the chance of taking out unwanted or innocent targets. Jack twisted his mouth into a wry smile; trying to kill in the nicest way possible.

---

There was a frantic rustling just under Daniel's tree, and just as he was reloading Syrus screamed "To the heights!" in a voice Daniel had never heard the man use before. Daniel felt a sharp chill rush down his spine--if Syrus ever forewarned the unit to be silent, they were nothing but silent. Something was horribly wrong, and he didn't think before shoving his arm through the branches, immediately feeling Coran latch on, the younger man's hand tightening around Daniel's bicep. Daniel tugged sharply, but in one horrible instant his knee slipped from its precarious perch, sending him lurching forward. The Beretta fell from his hand as he instinctively flailed with his right hand for another hold on another branch just above him, but an added weight pulled him off-balance again.

---

Jack rose up slightly on his elbows, straining to see over the top of the brush, to catch a glimpse of their approaching enemy. He waited...and waited...but the rustling had stopped, and there was no further movement. Jack felt something cold climb his spine in increments until his entire body gave one big shudder. Something was wrong.

"O'Neill," Teal'c breathed beside him. Jack glanced at him apprehensively, noting the careful, concentrating expression on his face. "It is an ambush."

'Fuck!' Jack's first instinct was to lunge to his feet and just begin firing blindly, but an instinct that was more than fear, more than self-preservation, kicked in, and he remained still. It was like a Mexican stand-off, both sides simply waiting for the other to make a move. 'Don't move, don't move, don't move,' Jack chanted in his head, trying to broadcast it to the rest of his allies. He clenched his la'tum tighter in his hands and ground his teeth together so hard his jaw began to ache. The muscles in Teal'c's arm, which was pressed against his in the tight quarters, coiled when a breeze moved through the trees, rustling the leaves above, and somewhere in the distance a tree creaked, pushed by the breeze, a person...Jack didn't know. At least, he didn't know until the tenuous silence was abruptly snapped by the unmistakable sound of choking, and then silence fell again, briefly, before the brush rifled further toward the West, the opposite direction from which the Loyalists were supposed to be coming, and a handful of Nihilist soldiers burst from their hiding places, weapons blazing. "AMBUSH!" was the cry taken up, passed along the ranks, and all at once chaos exploded.

Caution thrown to the wind, Jack reached desperately for his radio. "Carter! Come in!"

**Go ahead, sir--are you and Teal'c all right?**

"For now, yes. Where the hell are you?"

**Fahrn moved Pege and I up the road to head them off. But sir, we've got a big problem.**

"Ya think?" Jack snapped. "Get your ass out of there; it's a fuckin' ambush. Someone gave us away." Aside from getting himself and his teammates out safely, that was the only thing on Jack's mind--someone had given away their position, their plans, everything; he wanted nothing more than to have them by the neck right at that moment. With Teal'c at his side he jumped up and navigated himself deeper into the woods.

**Not that easy, sir--there are a lot more than Callan said there were...and those villagers?**

"Let me guess," Jack shouted over the radio, diving for cover as he caught a flash of discoloured green prowling ahead of him. "Not villagers?"

**Got it in one, sir.**

"Never mind, Carter; just do what you have to do and get yourself out of there safely." He found it hard to believe, but it seemed the fresh-faced youth that was Callan was more sinister than anyone had given thought to.

Something ripped deep into Jack's thigh, even in his prone position, and his breath left him in a hiss.

**Colonel? What happened?**

Jack hauled himself backward and fired, watching as his fire sought out hidden targets on its own, and Loyalists dropped like flies. "Fuck," he panted. "Got me low in the thigh," he reported. "It's fine; not too bad."

Carter closed her eyes in relief; his initial reaction to getting hit had led her to believe it was much worse--but she also knew how badly wounds in that position could bleed; if accurately placed, the victim could bleed out in a matter of hours. "I'll be right over, sir," she said. She had pressure bandages tucked away; a last-minute addition to her gear, just in case they were needed.

**Oh no you don't.** The Colonel's sharp response gave Carter pause. **Stay there; don't be stupid. I'm fine.**

"You sure sound it," Carter said dryly. His definition of 'fine' tended to correlate with Daniel's.

**Get off the communicator,** Kristof snapped over the radio borrowed from Teal'c, interrupting their communique. **You will give away our position.**

**That's what the earpiece is for,** O'Neill snapped back. **Carter, I'll stick it out here and make my way back when the coast is clear,** he assured her. **Stay there.**

Carter sighed. "Fine, Colonel. But watch your back."

**You too. O'Neill out.**

---

Daniel's breath left him in a rush as he fell over the branch, the thick wood compressing his lungs in one vicious blow. "No!" he gasped, realizing a Loyalist had grabbed onto Coran, the enemy soldier straining to pull the young man from Daniel's grasp. "Kick him!" Daniel yelled desperately. 'Do something!'

"I--I can't!" Coran shouted through gritted teeth. "He--AAAAH!"

Multiple whining shrieks filled the air and blood spurted up like a geyser, catching Daniel in the face, finding its way into his eyes and mouth. Disgusted, fighting the urge to retch, but determined to hang on, Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and constricted his throat, trying not to swallow, and pulled up hard, his grunt of exertion synchronized in a terrible harmony with Coran's inhuman scream of agony. In a frightening series of events, the extra, unseen weight hanging from Coran abruptly lessened, Daniel felt strong hands yank him up, he heard the repeated scream of la'tum fire, and then he was forced to his feet and shoved forward along the branches, urged to find the quickest route through the canopy. He was running blind, Coran slung over his shoulders and Syrus' cursing loud in his ears, and Daniel wiped ineffectively at his bloody face with his relatively clear sleeve and spat repeatedly, trying to rid himself of the coppery taste of blood that wasn't his own; blood from which he wished he didn't know the source.

Daniel slipped repeatedly on the branches, legs trembling with exertion, until Syrus finally pushed him from the trees. Instead of falling hard as he'd expected, though, hands were under his arms, lowering him to the ground and pulling him up short when he began running again. "It is all right," Elidih's warm but slightly shaky voice said in his ear. "We are far from the path--we accomplished our mission...barely."

"Coran?" Daniel blurted, temporarily forgetting that the young man currently occupied his shoulders.

"He is...alive," Elidih said. "There were more soldiers than we'd anticipated; we were forced to get out else we all would have been killed."

"I will take him," Behin said, materializing from behind Elidih. "I am on fresh legs and can spirit him quickly to camp and the healers."

Daniel allowed the transfer, glad the only weight he held now was his own. Behin took off, bearing Coran's weight with surprising ease. "Are you injured?" Elidih was asking, checking him over. "There is so much blood..."

"Not mine," Daniel assured her, his voice clipped and rapid with adrenaline and shock. "All the Loyalists' and...Coran's." He wasn't sure if he imagined the glare Elidih sent Syrus' way, but he didn't have time to ask, as Iazi urged him forward again with a gentle hand to the small of his back.

---

They were in full flight, Jack realized--the Nihilists, not the Loyalists. Shouts of retreat reached his ears as he huddled with both hands pressed against his thigh, trying to stem the bleeding. No more Loyalists had crossed his path yet, luckily, but he wasn't about to give in to the hope that he'd be left alone.

"Callan!"

Jack jerked his head around when Fahrn called the young scout's name, his warning to the fierce woman about his suspicions of the boy being the spy dying in his throat when the youngster appeared from the trees, hanging by his knees from a branch, looking terribly frightened. Jack's breath caught; the kid was hit, and not from la'tum weapons fire. Either the Loyalists deemed him an unworthy spy, or...

"Fahrn," Callan gasped desperately, cradling his ruined left arm close to his body and ignoring the fact he pretty much had a bullseye painted on him in that position, "I've been hit; please...please help..."

Jack knew the truth then, but couldn't react, couldn't do a thing to stop Fahrn as she brought her la'tum to bear. The kid wasn't the spy; he hadn't been the one to leak the information to the Loyalists. Even as the enemy soldiers noticed the prime target the boy presented, Jack could only see the steely resolve on Fahrn's face and the realizing terror on the mobile, pain-filled one of the boy, before the familiar, blood-chilling screech rent the air and tore into Jack's eardrums. As if in slow motion, the la'tum fire connected with its target, all but skewering the boy who had been their eyes up front. The small, frail torso dropped like a stone along with Callan's severed left arm and right leg--his other leg was left hooked over the branch above, dangling grotesquely.

But no image, not the crumpled, dismembered corpse, not the leg half-swinging from the tree branch, dripping blood to the soft earthen path below, burned into Jack's consciousness nearly as much as the sight of the terrified expression frozen forever on Callan's face as Loyalist and Nihilist alike tore past and over the child's corpse without regard for the life lost. Callan had been suspect--though it was only for a few moments, and with a wide berth for reasonable doubt--and had paid the price.

"Sir." Carter's voice, startlingly close, pulled Jack from his stupor, and he blinked rapidly, blearily focussing on his 2IC. "Come on, sir; we've got to get out of here."

"Did you see that?" he asked dumbly, feeling hot and cold, his mind reeling with the image of Callan's face superimposed with Charlie's. "Did you see...what she did?"

Carter's eyes were bright and sad as her gaze passed over Callan's body, and she nodded. "Yes sir--she thought he was the one who...we know the consequences these people hold for traitors, sir." She was at a loss as much as he was, but she shook herself out of it fiercely. "There's nothing we can do for him now, Colonel," she said quietly. "Right now, we really have to go."

"Ah...right. Right." Jack shook his head, cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, sir. Can you walk?"

"Of course I can, Carter. Let's book."

Carter dipped her head, an unconscious indicator of her weariness and relief. "Best plan I've heard all day."

Teal'c fell into step beside his two companions as they moved away from the wreck that had been their mission, and Jack couldn't help take one last look over his shoulder where chaos had played itself out. "If it wasn't Callan, then how did they know?" he asked, not really addressing anyone in particular.

"The Nihilists obviously have a leak," Carter said stonily, "and from the number of them, it's going to be a job trying to figure out who it is."

"We're gonna have to," Jack said with a sigh. "This can't keep happening, or there won't be enough of us left to meet the Goa'uld when they finally get here." Which, at that moment, didn't seem soon enough.

Chapter 16

When the remaining four members of Daniel's unit stumbled, exhausted, into camp late that night, they were met with questions galore from the others, some of which appeared equally as battered and bruised from their own battles. Daniel immediately searched the crowd for Jack, Sam and Teal'c, finally spotting the Jaffa standing sentinel outside Jack and Daniel's tent, arms crossed. Daniel's hackles stood on end at the look on his friend's face, and pushed through the milling crowd as Syrus announced plans for that evening's celebration. "Teal'c!" he called.

Teal'c's arms fell to his sides and his face smoothed out in relief that quickly turned to concern when he took in the sight of Daniel. "DanielJackson--"

"Are you guys all right? Where are Sam and Jack? Are--"

Teal'c clasped Daniel's forearm in greeting. "They are within; O'Neill was injured. Are you well?"

"Yeah, none of this is mine; it's--"

"The blood of Coran," Teal'c said gravely.

"Yeah," Daniel said, pulling his arm from Teal'c's grasp. "How'd you know?"

"Young Behin arrived with Coran," the Jaffa explained, "not three hours prior to your arrival. Coran was gravely injured."

"I think a Loyalist got him--is he all right?"

Teal'c shook his head slightly and Daniel's face fell, immediately fearing the worst, but Teal'c just gave his equivalent of a shrug--and many other human gestures, for that matter--a slight quirk of one eyebrow. "There has been no word; I believe their healers are still with him."

Daniel exhaled in relief. "I should go see him," he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the tent.

"May I suggest first cleansing your face?" Teal'c said. "I admit the sight is...unnerving."

"Oh, right." Daniel worked his jaw, wincing when he felt the unnatural stretch and pull of the blood drying in the crevices of his skin. "Good idea," he muttered. He gave Teal'c a clap on the shoulder as he moved around him, and ducked into the tent.

---

"Christ, Carter!" Jack snapped. "I'd rather keep my leg, thank you!"

Carter barely gave him a full look; just glanced up before returning her attention to the last suture she was putting in his thigh. "Sorry sir," she muttered, "but I'd rather get this done than listen to you bitch as you slowly lose it to gangrene."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Insubordination, Car--ow!--ter? Jesus," he whispered, pulling his leg back when his 2IC tied a tight bandage around the wound. "You all right?" he asked warily.

Carter sat back on her haunches and rubbed a hand wearily over her forehead. "Yes sir...it's just--this is getting to me a little, I think. I mean, I know it hasn't even been that long, but this is a hell of a lot more involved than other missions we've been on."

"Carter, what haven't we done that was at least as difficult as this?" Jack pointed out with a wry smile.

"Yeah..." Carter scooted backward until she was sitting on Daniel's sleeping bag, her knees drawn up, arms draped loosely around them. "But we haven't gotten ourselves involved in a war we otherwise wouldn't have anything to do with either, sir. We're here fighting for our lives and the lives of these people when, in all fairness, we should be back on Earth, safe and sound."

"But we're not, Carter, and we have to keep it up," Jack told her. "We all knew the risks--at least, the gist of the risks--we'd be taking when we first started travelling through that giant excuse for a puddle." Carter nodded wordlessly in agreement, but he kept going. "We can't just assume these people are going to pick up our slack if we sit back and let them handle everything; they think they have the right to recruit us into their little army, and they're putting their trust in us to do what we need to."

"Yes, sir--"

"Hey guys." Jack spared a brief glance over his shoulder as Daniel ducked into the tent with a heavy, tired sigh.

"Hey," he said airily. "Heard you had a bit of a--Carter?" He was confused; his second's face had gone completely pale, and she looked more than a bit nauseous. "Hey--Carter!"

"Daniel," she croaked, lurching to her feet and nearly stepping on Jack to get to their archaeologist. "Are you all right? What the hell happened to you?"

Jack followed her progress, pivoting himself on his ass until he faced the two younger members of his team. "What; what--holy shit!" He leaped up as well, ignoring the warning stab of pain in his thigh, taking in the blood-soaked upper body of his friend and the almost completely red-stained face and hair. "Jesus Christ, what hit you? Where are you hurt? For God's sake, sit down!"

"I'm--Sam, Sam! I'm fine! This isn't mine; it's...it's Coran's." Daniel's protests were muffled by a sterile wipe Carter produced and immediately started swabbing his face with, the drying and dried blood leaving horrendous red streaks on the young man's face.

"Coran's? Jesus, I thought you guys were on a routine mission," Jack snapped, crouching in front of Daniel with a critical eye.

"Yeah, it usually is," Daniel said bitterly, "but Syrus misjudged how many Loyalists were coming and we got a bit of a shock when we attacked."

"Sounds familiar," Jack said bitterly. Daniel glanced at him questioningly; he obviously hadn't gotten the entire story about their little adventure yet, but Carter deflected his attention.

"And Coran was the only one hit?" she asked. Daniel nodded.

"As far as I know. He was on the ground; I was trying to haul him up, and a Loyalist grabbed him. Someone shot Coran as I was pulling him up. I think he's in bad shape."

"You are a master of understatement," Syrus snarled, appearing in the tent without so much as a request for entry. The three-quarters of SG-1, startled at the man's abrupt appearance, eyed him warily.

"Why? How is he?" Daniel asked. He stood and took a hesitant step toward Syrus and in response, Syrus reached forward and dragged the archaeologist foward by the scruff of his neck. Jack stood in a rush, closely followed by Carter.

"Hey!" Jack barked. "Knock it off!"

"O'Neill." Teal'c looked inside, eyes narrowing when he saw the grip Syrus had on Daniel. "You will do well to remove your hand," he informed the soldier. "You were warned before I allowed you to approach."

"The boy wishes to speak with you," Syrus snapped at Daniel, releasing him with a snarl of disgust. "You had better make it fast; he will not last long." He stepped aside, offering Daniel open escape, and Jack caught Daniel's shoulder as he began moving past.

"I'm going with him," he snapped when Syrus scoffed. "I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

"No--it's fine, Jack. It'll be fine. I think I should go myself." Daniel respectfully removed his friend's hand from his shoulder and stared Syrus down. "You touch me and you'll regret it. Understand?"

Syrus blinked once, the only indicator of his surprise, then growled under his breath and abruptly preceded Daniel out of the tent, shouldering past Teal'c. Daniel grinned slightly and exchanged a nod with Jack, then followed Syrus and headed up toward the medical area, set aside near Kristof's and the common tents.

---

Daniel slipped into the medical tent, blanching when he laid eyes on Coran. The young man was ghost-white, sweating and in pain, cut up and bruised. But what drew the most of Daniel's attention was the sight of his leg--what was left of it--propped up on cushion made of grass-stuffed linen. "Got me just 'fore you pulled up," a laboured voice piped up from the bed. Daniel swallowed and sat down slowly, offering Elidih a small smile across the supine young man.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said quietly, leaning forward to meet the pain-filled green eyes. "I had no idea that..."

Coran smiled tightly. "No...no need," he promised. "Wan..wanted to thank you...for trying. 'Preciate it."

"I wouldn't have left you there," Daniel said firmly. "I wouldn't have thrown you to the wolves."

Coran nodded. "Don't...l-lose that," he said breathlessly. "This...this place c'n destroy...best of us. D-don't...let it."

"I'll try not to," Daniel said. "Of course, I'll need some more tutoring, but I think I can manage with help."

"From...Lee," Coran managed, gaze sliding to the young woman by his side, who raised the hand she was holding and kissed it gently. Daniel smiled softly and the obvious display of affection between the two. "She's...best," Coran teased. "Tougher...than sh'looks."

"Don't I know it," Daniel agreed with a grin. He rose, giving Coran's shoulder a pat. "I'll leave you two; be back later on."

"'Bye...Daniel," Coran said. "Th..thanks...again."

"Just be here later on; that'll be thanks enough."

Coran chuckled, smiling at Elidih. As Daniel passed through the tent's opening, the vision of Coran's leg cut off above the knee, the bandage wrapped tightly around the wound beginning to become sopped through with blood, somethin told him it wouldn't be long before another marker was added to the Nihilist graveyard. Something else,though, weighed on his mind--the wound looked as though it had been caused by a la'tum. The Loyalists didn't use la'tum rifles--so just who the hell had misjudged their shot so badly that they'd all but murdered one of their own? And why?

=====
=====

Daniel returned to his and Jack's tent feeling like he'd had all the energy sapped from his body, the rush of adrenaline that came with the relief his friends were all in one piece evaporating with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before Coran's ran out. He wanted to know what had happened to Jack, Sam and Teal'c, though, and plied every detail he could from his teammates. Jack angrily described the ambush, and Daniel felt the stone in his stomach harden further at the thought that they now not only had to deal with dangers presented from the Loyalists, but now from within their own ranks as well. "Do they have any idea who it might be?" he asked.

"We thought it was one of the scouts," Sam said, darting a glance at Jack. "Callan."

"The boy?" Daniel asked in surprise. He hadn't known Callan well, but the youngster had been brought to his attention simply by being "the child". He'd certainly seemed harmless enough.

Sam nodded. "We were...wrong, though."

"How do you know?" Daniel asked.

"He's dead," Jack said coldly.

Daniel shook his head, misunderstanding--the fact Callan was dead really didn't mean anything. "If he was a traitor and the others knew, wouldn't he be killed anyway?"

"That's not the point," Jack said. "The point is, the kid was scared shitless. Fahrn called him out and he came when he was called. He was hit with Loyalist fire--looked like a direct hit, to his left arm. He was scared, I could see it. He didn't know he was suspected until Fahrn aimed at him...then it was too late for him to do anything about it. He would have explained himself if he'd been given the chance, but she just..." Jack flicked his fingers outward, mimicking the spread of the projectile weapon. "Shot him."

Sam nodded her agreement. "He reported only about sixteen soldiers along with thirteen civilians. There were thirteen people who appeared to be civilians, including the three children he reported."

"They were not civilian," Teal'c added unnecessarily.

"No," Sam sighed. "I think he reported what he saw...there were many more Loyalists hidden all over the forest and we didn't see them. It's very possible there were more waiting in the wings, and that first chunk was only a distraction."

Daniel grimaced. "So when it comes to finding out who the leak is..."

"We're right back to square one," Jack finished.

Chapter 17

The quiet but relentless rustle of activity outside the tent had Daniel removing his right arm from its position covering his eyes and staring up at the ceiling of the tent, listening closely. There was a certain, sombre mood to the chatter between those doing the moving about, and his senses were confirmed when Jack appeared in the open entryway. "He's dead," he said quietly. "Just a few minutes ago."

Daniel pressed his head back against his makeshift pillow and shook his head slowly. "What's going on now?" he asked.

Jack crouched just inside the tent, watching Daniel sympathetically. "They're getting ready to bury him," he said, "and the others we brought back from our attack. Do you want to come?"

Daniel sat up and passed a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. "Yeah."

His friend nodded. "And afterward," he said dryly, "we can all take part in the big party."

"Party?"

"Yup." Jack grimaced. "Apparently we won some big battles today, and they're starting to set up a nice celebration for all of us."

Daniel followed Jack into the deepening darkness of approaching evening and trailed him toward the graveyard, where most of the Nihilists were already gathered, four wrapped bodies lying on the ground in front of them. "Fantastic."

Chapter 18

All in all, the Nihlists had lost thirteen soldiers out of only twenty-five dispatched, but after Coran had been buried, along with the three other recovered casualties of the day--two men, Bren and Kale, and a young woman barely out of her teens named Sari--the other members of the uprising retreated back to the common tent for an impromptu celebration; another day, another costly victory. It was enough for the Nihilists; any check mark in the 'Win' column was something to celebrate. Sam paused outside the tent as she spotted Elidih crouching beside one of the small fires burning near the sleeping quarter. "I'll be there in a minute," she told Daniel softly, and the younger man nodded and joined O'Neill and Teal'c inside.

"Hey there," Sam said, approaching Elidih slowly. The young woman looked up in surprise, but a warm smile gentled her sharp features. "Sam," she greeted.

"May I..." Sam indicated the empty ground beside Elidih.

"Oh, by all means." Elidih paused as Sam sat down. "I would have thought you would like to join the revel tonight," she said, "It was a great victory today. I am sorry, though, that your commander was injured."

"Me too; but he's fine. Don't worry." Sam studied Elidih carefully for a moment before adding with a sad smile, "And also...I'm very sorry about Coran." She tread carefully here, unsure of the reception of her sympathy, and was surprised when Elidih seemed taken aback.

"Why?" the younger woman asked.

Sam was thrown for a loop. "Well, he--he was your friend, wasn't he?"

"Yes, of course!"

"And it doesn't bother you that he..."

"Was killed? Of course it does, personally." Elidih sighed. "Coran was a very good friend to me. But he is, in all truth, just one of many sacrifices necessary for our cause, and certainly not the last. We cannot take the time to grieve so deeply for those we lose."

"But you're out here," Sam observed.

Elidih gave a small smile. "I am," she agreed. "I am not completely able to accept that item on Kristof's list of rules, Sam," she admitted softly. "I do not, by any means, wish to drag our morale down, but I--I cannot face a celebration at this moment. It is difficult to imagine the days ahead without Coran at my side."

Sam smiled gently, knowingly. "You loved him."

A chuckle. "Of course. Coran and I have been the best of friends since childhood. But yes, I know to what you refer," she said to Sam's expression of disbelief. "I do believe Coran and I would have married if we had each survived to see the end of the war."

Sam slipped an arm around Elidih's shoulders. "I know the feeling," she said quietly.

Elidih slid her a sidelong, empathetic gaze. "You were engaged to be married?"

"Well yeah, but my fianc� wasn't really a nice guy, I discovered," Sam scoffed. "That's a whole different story, though. One guy, though, I think could have been something special." She smiled fondly, remembering. "Narim."

"What happened to him?" Elidih asked curiously.

"To be honest, I'm not sure," Sam admitted. "You see, he was from a world called Tollan; a planet devastated by volcanic activity. He and a small number of his people were refugees on my planet for a few days, but left with another highly advanced race called the Nox after a rogue group of government agents tried to take them into permanent military custody."

"And you loved each other?"

Sam recalled the sweet emotions Narim had shared with her via the recording device. "I know he loved me," she said, "and yes--I was developing strong feelings for him, too."

Elidih stared deep into the fire that blazed steadily, its orange glow reflected in her steel-grey eyes. "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah, of course. But," Sam added, "you can't let yourself get completely bogged down in negative feelings--grieve, absolutley, but try focussing on the good memories you and Coran shared."

"You sound like my father," Elidih said, sounding amused. "Though you are right, even if there are few good memories to dwell on the past...few cycles." She stood slowly, dusting off the seat of her breeches, and extended a hand to Sam. "Shall we join the others?"

"Are you sure? I mean, if you don't feel like it--"

"No," Elidih murmured, staring off in the direction of the ever-growing graveyard, "Coran would wish me to continue. I will do what I must, and he will be properly grieved when we have driven the Destroyers from our world."

Carter grinned, accepting the hand. "Then let's party," she said lightly. "We have big days ahead of us."

Chapter 19

The scene Sam and Elidih walked in on wasn't one of revelry and joy, but rather an intense one, that had Syrus pitted against Daniel , the two men glaring at one another over the long table which was still piled high with food and drink.

"This only reinforces the fact that he is weak!" Syrus was shouting, jabbing one finger in Daniel's direction. "He was very nearly the cause of all our deaths!"

"I was trying to save him!" Daniel shouted, rising to his feet and matching Syrus' glare.

"You should have left him!"

"To be tortured by his enemies?"

"He'd have done the same were it you trapped on the ground!"

Daniel slammed a fist on the table, snapping Sam's hypnotic focus on the argument. She noticed Teal'c and the Colonel each tense at Daniel's sides. "Coran fought those people for more than half his life! I wasn't about to leave him to their 'mercies'--I couldn't!"

"And nor could I!" Syrus bellowed. "If you hadn't pulled up--"

Daniel was momentarily thrown, stunned into horrified, frozen silence. "Wh--what?" he finally managed to choke out. Sam glanced at Elidih, who appeared stricken--not for herself, but for Daniel. And Sam knew, then; she knew what she'd suspected the moment Coran had been carried into camp with his leg half severed. After seeing Fahrn's emotionless dispatch of Callan during the ambush, it made more sense now than ever.

"He would not have suffered so, but you refused to let go!" Syrus elaborated savagely.

The puzzle pieces fell into place for Daniel, and the young man's face drained of colour, visible even in the flickering, candlelit atmosphere of the tent. "You did it," he whispered. "It wasn't the Loyalists at all; it was you!"

"Well, of course--if I hadn't fired--"

Sam's heart twisted on Daniel's behalf as the gamut of emotions flickered across his face. Syrus was in for it now...and she was glad that she wasn't the one in the archaeologist's way.

"You son of a bitch!" Daniel saw red as he flung himself across the table, catching Syrus in the chest and bearing him heavily to the floor. The room froze around them as he pummelled Syrus with his fists, beating out his rage and sorrow for a boy whose life had cruelly been stolen away.

Vaguely, he registered hands grabbing his arms, his shoulders, but he shrugged them off and twisted away, fisting the front of Syrus' tunic and taking great pleasure in the uncertainty in the older man's eyes as Daniel lifted him and slammed him back to the floor. "Daniel! Daniel, stand down!!"

'Sorry Jack; never gonna get another chance to do--' "AH!"

"Hey!"

Daniel fell back with the force of a punch that clipped him painfully in the jaw. Before he could lunge for Syrus again though, he was hauled to his feet and shoved roughly through the ruin that had been the table and its feast. "Let me go," he growled at whoever had the grip on the scruff of his neck. Daniel's attempt to twist violently away was aided when whoever had him shoved him backward, taking him to the ground and pinning him by his shoulders to the cool earth.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Jack roared in his face. "What the hell's gotten into you?!"

"What do you think?" Daniel shouted back. "That...that...he killed him and passed it off as--as a casualty! How can the rest of them be so calm, and--" Daniel rubbed a hand at his aching jaw "--who the hell hit me?" He glowered meaningfully at Jack's right hand on his shoulder, and the other man spluttered indignantly, hands otherwise occupied with keeping Daniel in one place.

"It wasn't me," Jack said, "it was that girl--woman, whatever. Iazi."

"Iazi hit me?!"

"Don't change the subject," Jack ordered.

"Colonel?" Carter and Teal'c were coming out of the tent, and they approached cautiously. "Is everything..."

"It's fine, Carter," Jack said, eyes still boring a hole into Daniel's. "Right?"

"No," Daniel retorted incredulously, "it's not. Syrus killed Coran, and everyone's just going to let him get away with murder?"

"Daniel, how do you think half their soldiers die out there?" Jack asked. "How do you think they've lost so many people but have never been discovered by the Loyalists? These people kill their own, those who aren't considered strong enough to fight," he continued, voice gentling slightly. "Do you really think they have anything against what they think of as humane euthanization?"

Realizing his ignorance, Daniel slumped against the ground, his muscles liquifying in defeat. Jack's hold loosened but remained on his shoulders, as if to assure himself that Daniel wasn't going to fly back in there and commit bloody murder himself. "My beating the shit out of him isn't going to change a thing, is it?" Daniel murmured dully.

"No," Carter said sympathetically, "but if it makes you feel any better...I was cheering you on."

"As was I," Teal'c affirmed with considerable satisfaction.

"Me too," Jack admitted with a grin, "and you gave it to him good, Danny Boy! Those Superman moves over the table...who'd have thought you had it in you? Where've you been keeping your cape?"

Daniel forced a small smile; he knew his friends were trying to make him feel better, but it didn't erase the fact that Coran was dead, murdered by those he'd considered allies, friends of his own. The war had just gotten a little uglier, and the safety of the base deep in the forest suddenly didn't seem so safe anymore.

Chapter 20

"We are removing him from front-line combat duty," Kristof informed Jack as Syrus nursed his broken nose alongside the decanz.

"What? Why? He's an asset to your units; you said yourself he has better aim than any one of your own."

"He is too soft," Kristof reiterated his old argument. "Either we remove him from combat, or he will be 'removed' altogether."

"Decanz, Doctor Jackson wishes an audience," Behin interrupted apologetically, nervously worrying the frayed edge of the tent flap, uncertain gaze flickering between Jack and Kristof, who looked about to explode. Jack half-turned to watch both of them at once, and saw Kristof's annoyed frown.

"Tell him if I have time, I may see him," he dismissed the boy. "What does he wish to complain about now?" he asked Jack sarcastically.

Jack quelled the flare of anger on Daniel's behalf. "Actually, nothing," he said sharply. "In fact, it's something you should be concerned about--the potential enslavement of half your planet's population."

Kristof blinked and sat back in surprise. "How is that possible?" he asked, his calm, light tone fraught with a sharp, wary edge.

Jack leaned forward, keeping the distance between them uniform, clasping his hands in front of him. "Munitions plant," he said simply. "I'll bet, dollars to doughnuts--never mind--that you'll find your 'deceased' population there...and you'll have Daniel to thank for figuring it out."

Kristof's eyebrows rose curiously, and he and Jack both ignored Syrus' scoff from his side. "And how has he come across this information?" the decanz asked coolly.

"Simple--well, not so simple, since it's Daniel--logic. I've told you from day one, the guy's brilliant. After the gathering in the city, he pieced all this stuff together and came up with it; you'll have to ask him to explain it to you, but trust me...it makes sense."

Kristof tilted his head slightly in thought, then smirked. "Then if this is true, he may still prove himself to be useful."

Jack exhaled silently, relieved, but Kristof continued. "I will still not allow him on any more front line missions, however...but," he said loudly as Jack began to protest, "I will heed your request one final time and compromise with you." His eyes glittered. "Either he is removed permanently, or you consent to his reassignment."

Jack sighed heavily, weighing his options--which, really, there wasn't any--before finally nodding. "Fine. What kind of reassignment are we talking about, here?"

Chapter 21 - Three weeks later

"Uh...whoa. We're supposed to take that out? Just the two of us?"

Iazi glanced at Daniel briefly before lifting the binoculars that, once again, were borrowed from Daniel's teammates, and returning her sights to the munitions plant, milling with Loyalists. "The smaller the infiltration force, the better," she said, "Do not fear--more of our people are not far away. Should we meet any difficulty we need only to call them, and they will act."

Daniel shifted himself onto his elbows, wincing and automatically flattening himself back down when a twig snapped beneath him. Both he and Iazi held their breath before she dared to lift her head. "It is still safe--all twelve soldiers are still patrolling." She flashed Daniel a weak, nervous smile. "Are you ready?"

Daniel patted his small cloth bag of explosives and nodded, smiling tightly. "As I'll ever be."

"Then in three." Iazi pulled her cowl up to cover the majority of her face, counted down on her fingers and snaked forward with Daniel at her side, both moving silently down the slight incline, bellies flat to the underbrush and heads held high enough to see only as much as they had to.

Moving as Jack had taught him in basic training, Daniel had to wonder why, exactly, he was relegated to Bomb Boy; laying explosives to take down walls so the cavalry could move in? Had Jack requested that he be given the least dangerous tasks? Daniel grimaced. He appreciated not having to murder as many men and women, but he half-prayed that his teammates weren't coddling him. That was all he needed, with Fahrn, Syrus and Kristof breathing down his neck at every turn.

Iazi tugged sharply at his sleeve and glowered, shaking her head slightly when he finally looked up. A tap to her head, a finger twirling heavenward. *You've got your head in the clouds!*

Daniel scowled at her; 'drilling' his finger into his temple. *Thinking.*

Iazi shook her head in disapproval, and both of them glanced down at the soldiers. Now that they were closer, it became apparent that this wasn't the run-of-the-mill patrol they'd normally come across. "What are they doing?" Daniel whispered, his apprehension supplanting the hand signals. The Loyalists milling about within the walls of the munitions plant didn't seem particularly...busy, and yet they seemed to be just as pissed off as they usually did, snapping incomprehensible orders and shouting viciously inside and out.

"I am uncertain," Iazi murmured, not bothering to reprimand Daniel for his lack of attention to their standing order for silence, "though whatever it is, we cannot retreat. Our order is to incapacitate this depot, and we must." She studied Daniel closely, her eyes in shadow from the protruding lip of her cowl. "Do you understand what you are to do?"

Daniel sighed softly and nodded. "Yeah."

Iazi chopped her hand to the right and pointed at him and pointed left for herself, moving her hands palms-down in a circle to meet out from her face, indicating they meet up on the other side of the wall. Daniel nodded gamely, and her eyes crinkled up in a quick, fond smile before she moved off.

Chapter 22

Daniel covered his third charge with soft turf, clicking his radio once, paused, and then clicked it on twice more in rapid succession. He held his breath, anticipating, and after a moment his radio crackled three times in response. He gave into a small smile of relief--Iazi had done her part; all that was left to do was blow the wall and strike the guards nearest the openings before they could gather the full extent of their forces. "Jack," he said softly into the radio, melting back into the trees, "you should start moving up; we'll be blowing in five."

**Understood.**

Daniel put the radio in the fold of his cloak, jumping in surprise when it began tocking urgently in the SOS signal he'd suggested they use for the mission. Iazi had run into trouble. Without a second thought, Daniel picked up his MP-5 and headed for her position on the opposite side of the compound, sticking close to the fortified wall. Carefully, he edged partway around the corner, moving more quickly when he found the immediate area clear. "Jack, Iazi's in trouble," he reported rapidly. "Moving in."

**Daniel, blow it and get yourself the hell out of there,** Jack ordered. **We're closing in, North and South; we'll be there in no time, so extract yourself and we'll get Iazi.**

"Negative," Daniel said shortly. "She'll be dead by then. Out." 'No reason to tell him Iazi's the one who has the trigger...'

----

"Are these things always so hard to take out?" Jack bitched to Elidih, who smiled grimly.

"I am an unreliable source of information," she admitted. "Only the one munitions plant has been destroyed in this war, and it was years prior to my birth."

"Oh, fantastic," Jack snapped. "Carter," he barked into the radio, "you folks close?"

**Yes sir; we're close to the wall, but Daniel hasn't detonated yet.**

"Fuck. Daniel. Daniel, answer me." Jack waited anxiously, shaking his head when no response came back. "Carter, can you raise him?"

**Hang on.** Jack looked up as he realized Fahrn was watching him like a hawk, and Jack shook his head slightly. **No sir,** Carter came back. **The radio must be off, or--**

"Right." Jack cut the communication. "Deep shit," he announced to the unit at large, and Fahrn immediately waved the troops forward at a more hurried pace.

"If he's taken away this chance..." Syrus warned as Jack passed him, falling into step beside him.

"Syrus, do us all a favour and shut the fuck up," Jack snapped. "It's your soldier that got caught, not Daniel."

"He is showing his weakness--"

"Shove it," Jack muttered, surging past the older man, knowing he couldn't keep up with his gimp leg. Elidih gave him a small, approving smile.

"You say what we are all thinking," she said. "Thank you."

"He'll have more than that coming his way is he doesn't lay off," Jack said, his concern for his teammate and the tension of the moment giving him a tenuous grip on his emotions. Elidih nodded wordlessly in silent support.

----

"What is this?" Daniel heard the Loyalist soldier interrogating Iazi demand, and peeked around the corner to see the vaguely familiar man waving the radio in Iazi's face, looming over the woman.

Iazi looked beat up and bruised, half-lying on the ground, but she glared defiantly up at the Loyalist, jaw firm, eyes narrowed. "Tell me," the soldier ordered, silky and beyond dangerous. "It is not 'nothing'--I have seen nothing like this before...where did you get it?"

Daniel felt a rush of panic. If the Loyalist hadn't already found out how to turn on the radio or what it was for, he would soon, which would completely negate the slim advantage the communicators had given them until now. He knew, too, that the trigger was hidden on Iazi somewhere, and it wasn't going to take a genius to figure out what it was for. Daniel fumbled for his radio and clicked it on experimentally, frustrated when he couldn't hear a corresponding signal in Iazi's over the Loyalists questioning. 'Don't have a choice,' he told himself, and keyed the radio. "Requesting radio silence," he hissed into it.

Of course, Jack wasn't going to leave it at that. **Daniel, what the fuck are you doing?**

"Jack, are you deaf? Requesting radio silence!" With that, Daniel shut off the radio, relieved that the Loyalist didn't react to the communication--obviously Iazi had been smart enough to turn the radio off before they'd descended on her.

Mind made up, Daniel surveyed what he was dealing with. Iazi and the Loyalist weren't an obscenely large distance away, but there were six Loyalists in sight, and a certain dozens more inside the walls. From his current position, Daniel couldn't tell if the gate was open or closed...and that, he supposed, was something he had to take a chance with. This would likely be a kamikaze mission anyway. Swallowing hard, he made sure his clip was full, and aimed at the Loyalist at the far side of the clearing--"misdirection," Coran's voice echoed in his head. The other soldiers immediately reacted as the shot rang out and their comrade fell like a stone, and Daniel followed the first shot up with a hail of shots straight up in the air and at an angle, sending bullets whizzing through the foliage on either side of the clearing. "Attack! We're under attack!" a shout rose. The commanding Loyalist roughly shoved Iazi to the ground, and Daniel took that opportunity to burst from his hiding place and hurl himself at Iazi, rolling them both forcibly along the ground. "Trigger!" he hissed, wincing when his sleeve rode up and his arm scraped painfully on the rocky ground. In the din of the chaos, he was aware of the Loyalists alerting each other to his presence, and knew he wasn't going to have an unlimited amount of time.

"Inner pocket," Iazi barked. Daniel reached inside her cloak with a silent apology, embarrassment taking a back seat to urgency, ripping the device free as pounding footsteps indicated the Loyalists had all recovered from their shock. Without hesitation, Daniel activated the trigger, feeling the force and heat of the blast as hands closed around his arms and neck, and he was slammed into the gravel, colliding painfully with unconsciousness.

----

"There's our cue!" Sam shouted.

"Move in!" Tomas yelled beside her. The two units converged on the still-smoking complex walls, the East and West of which were completely obliterated, weapons firing, steadily working their way into the main depot. "Take what you can!" a man's voice bellowed. "Leave none alive!"

'None?' Sam thought with a grimace. If Daniel had been right, that would be a lot of death at the end of the day. Speaking of Daniel--

"CaptainCarter!" Teal'c alerted her. "There!"

Sam followed Teal'c's indication, and her jaw dropped when she took in the vanishing unit of Loyalists making their way for the North road. "Colonel!" she shouted into the radio. "There's an entire unit of Loyalists heading toward the Stargate, and I wouldn't be surprised if Daniel and Iazi are with them!"

**Damn it! We're sending reinforcements after them, Carter! Your unit is closer to the action and we need you to get things under control before we move into the compound! Keep yourselves out of sight until we signal you to converge, understood?**

"Yes sir. Sir, Daniel--"

**He'll have to stick it out until we can get to him. We don't have a choice, Carter--he'll understand that.**

"Yes sir."

There was static from the radio, and then O'Neill's transmission began again. **We're moving in toward the compund itself now. We should have things--holy shit.**

Sam's heart leapt into her throat. "What is it, sir? Are you able to get--"

**Oh, we're fine, Carter,** O'Neill's slightly stunned reply came back. **We're coming, don't worry...**

----

"...I just made a rather interesting discovery." Jack thumbed off his radio and turned a full 360 on the walkway inside the munitions plant. Munitions of a...disturbingly familiar variety.

"O'Neill," Fahrn said, the normally sharp voice dulled with her level of disbelief. "These weapons--they are not those used by the Minister's soldiers."

"Nope," Jack said flatly. "Looks like your Minister buddy and all his cronies have a lot more hidden from you folks than you originally thought."

Below the observers, all but oblivious to the chaos that had erupted outside, were thousands of people milling about--people running the impressive underground Goa'uld weapons plant. "Meet your business partners."

Chapter 23

"Where are the rest of your scum rebels?" the Loyalist, Achsel, demanded, keeping up a dizzying, pacing circle around Daniel and Iazi.

"Where you will not find them," Iazi spat back, eyes straight ahead. Daniel slid her a sidelong look before returning his own eyes forward. 'Any time now, cavalry...'

Achsel sneered at them and unexpectedly reached down for Daniel's borrowed MP-5. "What type of weapon is this?" he asked, more curious than anything now. "So unlike our weapons; bulky, clumsy." He grabbed Daniel's chin between his thumb and forefinger, roughly yanking his head up, shaking the gun slightly in Danile's face. "Well?" he demanded. "You are obviously different, using a weapon never seen before. Where are you from; who are you?"

Daniel met his gaze straight on, but didn't respond. A backhand nearly sent him reeling, but he maintained his balance gamely, steadying himself while Achsel meandered behind them. Daniel half-smiled in response to Iazi's concerned look. 'It's nothing.'

"I suppose," Achsel said with a put-upon sigh, "that a lesson must be given."

Daniel didn't even have time to stiffen when a single shot from the MP-5 rang out, and Iazi pitched forward, face-first to the grassy earth, bound hands limp and useless behind her back. Daniel released his grief in an inaudible hiss, willing back the ache behind his eyes and unable to pull his gaze away from the unmoving form of the woman next to him. "What sort of weapon is this?" Achsel asked in disdain from behind Daniel, his voice moving as he stepped up to Iazi's side and roughly kicked her body onto its back, revealing the round exit wound between her staring, lifeless eyes. Daniel swallowed hard. "Not nearly as effective as a la'tum," Achsel continued, "but it works, I suppose." He levelled the MP-5 at Daniel. "Now, should you be brought in as a bargaining chip, or shall I leave you here as carrion in the same state as this...woman?"

---

Sam edged into the underground munitions facility, taking in the flurry of activity around her with open-mouthed disbelief. There were at least fifty thousand people working below her--and that was all she could see in the immediate area. They worked robotically, taking the assembled weapons and modifying or completing them in a long assembly line. even more unnerving, though, was the countenance of the people. They were eerily vacant; they'd worked right through the raid, and were still showing no signs of noticing their attackers. "Teal'c," she called quietly, inexplicably urged to keep her voice down. The Jaffa moved to her side, seeming decidedly emotionless. "What's wrong with them? Some kind of brainwashing?" Sam thought back over the Goa'uld encounters they'd had, trying to discern which of their enemies would be most likely to use this as their MO.

"I am uncertain," Teal'c murmured. "Though I sense..."

Sam gestured for him to continue when he only trailed off. "Teal'c? Sense what?"

"Goa'uld," Teal'c murmured. "These people have been infected with Goa'uld symbiotes."

Mouth agape, Sam turned back to the robotic scene playing out below her. "They're aren't exactly your run-of-the-mill Goa'uld, are they?" she asked. "I mean, since when are they so willing to play lackey to one another?"

The muscle in Teal'c's jaw twitched and he wordlessly turned, heading down the metallic walkway and taking the stairs, walking parallel and above the oblivious Goa'uld workers. Sam followed curiously. "Teal'c?"

"I have heard of this method before," he muttered. Sam wasn't sure if he was talking to himself, or actually addressing her. "It is rarely used; only when a world provides significant tactical advantages is it employed..." He strong-armed door after door along their level open, checking each and every one. At the fifth or sixth they approached, he froze in the open doorway, eyes narrowed. Sam peered around him into the small room--by the looks of it and the others, they were some kind of containment cells--and blinked. Once. Twice.

On a table, in an aquarium-like container, tubes snaking out and into various contraptions set up along the walls, was the largest Goa'uld Sam had ever seen. "Jesus," she breathed. "Teal'c, what the hell--"

"A queen," Teal'c replied tonelessly. He blocked Sam's entrance to the room as she made to squeeze past him. "Stand back, CaptainCarter."

Without question, Sam backed off, then prudently covered her eyes protectively as Teal'c brought his staff weapon to bear and promptly fired, smashing the glass aquarium and sending the viscuous fluid gushing all over the concrete floor. He fired again and again, just about blasting the queen Goa'uld into oblivion, then turned his wrath on the compartments stacked along the walls--which Sam could now see also housed Goa'uld larvae--immature larvae in most, like Teal'c carried in his pouch, but then, in others, more mature symbiotes that were obviously ready for hosts. Within moments, the entire room had been torn apart, the only evidence that it had held the key to the Loyalists' advantage over their fellow people being the dripping fluid from shattered tanks, and the interspersed pieces of dead symbiote.

Teal'c turned emotionlessly from the door and tilted his head forward. "We must discern whether or not more of these queens are being bred here, CaptainCarter. If we are able to cut off their supply of symbiotes, this weapons depot will be useless to them. Human beings are not learned in the art of making Goa'uld weaponry."

For the first time in weeks, Sam felt a sliver of hope break through the perpetual darkness of the war, and a slight smile broke across her face. "Right. Let's gather the others and get down to business."

Teal'c's face softened in what could have been described as a smile, and he nodded once. "Indeed."

---

After leaving the unpleasant surprise that was the Goa'uld weapons plant in the capable hands of Carter, Teal'c and their unit, Jack took off with a small group of his own, hot on the tail of Syrus and a few others who had been sent after the group of Loyalists who had fled the area with Daniel and Iazi in tow. He was running neck-in-neck with Fahrn, who was unusually silent after the revelation back at the depot. "You weren't expecting that, huh?" he asked in a hushed tone, aware that any sound would alert the Loyalists to the fact they were being followed.

Fahrn glanced at him in surprise, sorrow showing on her face for the first time since Jack had met her, and she shook her head. "This was not what we had expected," she admitted.

"Elidih told me you folks took out another munitions plant a few years back. You telling me you didn't have any plans to take out this one until recently?"

"O'Neill," Fahrn said exasperatedly, "your world has war; Daniel has told us this many times. When an attack, even a successful one, goes awry and many lives are lost, are your forces immediately ready to take on another challenge equally as impressive?"

"No," he said shortly.

"Nor are we. The previous munitions plant was run solely by Loyalist soldiers--not Destroyers. It was early in the war and its construction had not been completed. Even then, we lost nearly three-quarters of our forces. We were in no state to attack this one, even twenty-two cycles later. Our numbers were far too small. However, I admit Kristof was intrigued by Daniel's ideas that perhaps our missing loved ones are closer than we'd thought...though we never believed we'd find them as we have."

"So they are Goa'ulded," Jack said flatly. He'd feared as much--there were differences in the ages of some of the workers he'd seen in the depot; not the usual suspects for Goa'uld hosts. Far from the perfect, almost mythological beauty many of the hosts he'd met had had. That, and their numbers were too many--it wouldn't make sense for the Goa'uld to travel to such far-off worlds in search of workers if they could find all the needed on a world like Frihet--a planet where people disappeared daily, and where people were in desperate need of hope and any semblance of peace they could be given.

Fahrn nodded gravely. "They are."

"O'Neill," Behin whispered, the boy moving stealthily up behind the pair, overhearing their conversation. "Is it possible to save our people from the Destroyers?" His gaze was open and beseeching, and Jack found it hard to tell the truth to such desperation.

"I don't know," he admitted. "We aren't advanced enough to remove symbiotes safely"--nightmarish images of Kawalsky flashed through his mind--"and the allies we've met along our way haven't exactly been forthcoming in that sort of help department. I hate to say it, but your people may be lost to you." God help him for admitting it, and God willing, Daniel would never hear him admit it. The younger man was so driven by the hope that Sha're would be able to have the snake in her head removed; it may have been possible, too, if they hadn't completely screwed the Cimmerians over with Thor's Hammer. It seemed whatever good thing SG-1 touched blew up in their faces.

"I see." Behin's voice was calm, but the insistent tug downward on the corners of his mouth belied the boy's disappointment. Jack wondered fleetingly just who he had lost in this war.

Ahead, Kristof clenched a fist in the air and the entire unit froze. Jack tuned his ears to the sounds of the forest, and heard the unmistakable sounds of an unpleasant interrogation drifting toward them. "They sure aren't taking care right now," he murmured to Fahrn. The woman nodded.

"They will believe we are preoccupied at the weapons plant," she said through gritted teeth. "There will be no fear from them--the element of surprise is in our favour."

"Finally, some good news." Jack crept forward, following the sounds of the harsh, questioning voice, the dull sounds of flesh of flesh, until he could peer down the slight incline into the clearing. He squeezed the barrel of his ke'tec hard when he took in the sight below--Daniel, kneeling and bound, with Iazi sprawled next to him, dead or very close to it. The group of a dozen Loyalists circled them, and their decanz circled Daniel menacingly, wielding Daniel's own MP-5, aiming at the back of Daniel's head. As he waited, forcing himself to stay still, Kristof finally whispered the order that Jack was waiting for.

"Move in."

=====

Daniel didn't feel the anxiety he always thought he'd feel when faced with his imminent death. What had been his life didn't flash before his eyes, his old regrets didn't come back to haunt him. Instead a strange peace stole over him, his gaze, which had been locked alternatingly between Iazi's body and Achsel and his men, slid away and he allowed his eyes to close. If this had been his life, he'd lived it. It was ending in a way he'd never expected it to, but in a way that he couldn't entirely condone. He hadn't resolved anything with SG-1 he'd set out to do; Apophis was still loose and with Sha're in his possession, victim of infestation, Earth was under the scrutiny of the entire galaxy, it seemed, always under threat of attack...

But none of that mattered anymore. Daniel allowed himself to relax, sent one silent apology out to his friends that he hadn't been able to do more, and waited for Achsel to pull the trigger.

Through his reverie, choked grunts and the telltale thump of bodies hitting ground and the whine of ke'tec fired permeated Daniel's consciousness, garnering the attention of both himself and, apparently, that of Achsel. Daniel's eyes shot open to find the Loyalist decanz staring dumbly as his men fell around him, and then he snarled and whirled around to face Daniel with such rage that Daniel fully expected the trigger on his MP-5 to be pulled right away. "Go!" Achsel ordered instead, dropping the MP-5 in favour of his own weapon and fleeing with the remainder of his men, firing blindly into the trees, which seemed to have sprouted weapons of their own. Daniel felt obscurely cheated out of his own death, and ridiculously found himself gaping after the retreating Loyalists, the remainder of which were still being picked off by whoever it was in the trees, ready to shout out at Achsel, tell him to return and finish what he'd started.

"Daniel!" Hands were at his then, familiar hands, untying him and pulling him up. Daniel's eyes, though, were locked on Iazi, staring up at nothing...but at him at the same time.

"Close her eyes, Jack," he croaked, recognizing the concerned face that appeared in front of him. "Close her eyes."

Jack glanced down, grimacing, then carefully but swiftly turned Daniel and physically guided him away. "It's okay, Daniel," he said quietly. "The others will take care of her, but we've gotta get out of here right now. Can you walk? Scratch that--can you run?"

Daniel nodded and followed, literally running on autopilot. "My gun," he panted, breaking through the brush and trees, hearing nothing save the roaring in his ears. "My MP-5. If I hadn't brought the gun, if they hadn't seen it, it would have..."

Daniel's knees suddenly hit something hard and ultimately unyielding, and he sagged into it, rebelling against the force trying to pull him upwards. His head spun and throbbed, and Daniel wondered then when it had gotten so very dark.

Chapter 24

Awareness seeped into the comforting darkness of Daniel's unconsciousness and he slowly cracked one eye open, revealing a dark mass beside him. "Hey. You with me now?"

Daniel opened his eyes the rest of the way but didn't move otherwise as the mass manifested itself as Jack. "Daniel?"

Daniel blinked slowly. "What happened?"

"Uh--we followed you guys after we got into the weapons plant. When we found you, you were pretty much in shock; took a header as we were getting the hell out of Dodge."

"Passed out from shock?" Daniel asked, squinting up at Jack uncertainly. The other man shook his head and looked rather pissed.

"No, I'd say the concussion took care of that for you. Do you remember what happened?"

Daniel thought about that for a long moment, then like an arrow to his heart it hit him. "Iazi's dead."

Jack sighed. "Yeah."

"He laughed at her," Daniel murmured.

"What?"

"He...he laughed. He was so disappointed that the MP-5 didn't do more damage. He didn't care that he blew a hole clear through her head; he wanted to see her in pieces."

Jack's face twisted in sympathy. "It's war, Daniel," he said quietly. "They're out to kill each other, and it's a good thing for them when they manage it."

Daniel's eyes flickered up to meet Jack's and he swallowed. "I wanted to do something so badly," he said quietly. "Wanted to help; to just...I don't know, tackle him or something, but I couldn't do a thing." He dared a longer look at Jack, boring his gaze into his friend's. "That must be what it was like for you guys when you thought I was killed on Nem's planet."

Jack's sympathy turned into surprise, and then deep thought. "Sort of," he said slowly, "but it was also way different, Daniel."

"How?"

"Because...because I know you," Jack said carefully. "You're a friend, and--"

"Iazi was a friend," Daniel said sharply.

"I know, but you didn't know her--we hardly 'know' anyone here." Jack attempted to explain. "You...and this is gonna sound bad, I know...you can't afford to grieve for every acquaintance you make here. We're here long enough to get what we need to go home, and then we're gone. No questions asked. We can't get attached."

"Jesus Jack, they're not just a means to an end!"

"Aren't they?" Jack retorted. "That's what we are to them, right?"

As much as he wanted to deny it, to say that the people here had the right to drag unfortunate off-worlders into their war, coercing them to join their ranks, he couldn't bring himself to do it. All he had to do was remember the look of hunger in all of their eyes when the opportunity rolled around to murder more and more of the Loyalists, or when the opportunity came around to expose and deal with a traitor of their own ranks. Daniel had made a few too many friends here, and one by one they were all being picked off, leaving him feeling more and more guilty about his inability to save each and every one of them, even though he couldn't honestly say they'd feel the same way if he were to be lost in one of their missions. Jack was right; if they didn't want this war to destroy them, they had to begin looking out for themselves and only themselves. With an effort, he dragged in a deep breath and nodded heavily. "Right."

The proverbial winds of change seemed to blow through the tent, and Daniel knew that from that moment on, it all had to be different. For their own sakes, for their own survival, and for their own chance to get home.

=====

Part 3
Back to Part 1
Apostasy Home
Home