Chapter 1

"Get down!"

Janet barely had time to register the words before a fatigue-clad leg lashed out and knocked her feet unceremoniously out from under her. She landed hard on her stomach next to Lieutenant Cummings, the force of the impact driving the air from her lungs. Dimly, she heard a high-pitched whistling sound against the backdrop of gunfire seconds before the whole world exploded into dust and gravel and violent shaking that seemed to go on forever. With an effort, eyes stinging from the rocks and debris raining down on them, she lifted her head, scanning the immediate area for O'Neill.

The Stargate on PR6-342 was housed in a rocky canyon. Through the smoke and dust she could see jagged cliffs rising on either side of their position, and rubble once carried by a raging river littered the floor. Twin suns shone brightly overhead and the heat was oppressive. There was no sign of O'Neill, but she saw several members of SG8 crouched behind rocks and fallen trees, desperately trying to hold their position against an enemy that seemed to be all around them.

She finally spotted Jim Nagel, the field medic she'd brought with her, lying nearby, similarly sprawled on his stomach. She watched as he rose to all fours and began crawling quickly back toward the DHD.

"Nagel!" she shouted, ducking her head and crawling after him as bullets tore through the canyon walls and floor. "Nagel, what are you doing?" She made a grab for his arm, and somehow managed to hang on as he violently tried to shake her grip off. The terror on his pale face was plain to see as he rose to his knees and began to activate the Stargate.

"We've got to get out of here!" he shouted, pressing the first symbol. Around them, the air filled with that same ominous whistling sound again and she knew they were too out in the open, too exposed. She transferred her grip from his arm to the front of his jacket, pulling herself to her feet and digging her heels into the ground. Using her limited weight and a burst of adrenaline-driven strength she hauled Nagel to his feet. The two of them stumbled away from the DHD and into the shelter of a small dune just as another shell hit the ground nearby.

Nagel's body fell heavily across her, effectively pinning her to the ground as her pack dug uncomfortably into her hip and back. She could feel him shuddering against her, fingers digging into her shoulders in a death grip as the fear and sweat poured off of him. "I'm sorry," he gasped, but didn't release her. "I panicked. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Janet felt for him, she really did. He was young, had just made lieutenant and had a wife and a newborn daughter at home. The last place he should be, she thought, was a war zone. It was the last place either one of them should be, she told herself; she could count the number of times she'd been in a combat situation on the fingers of one hand, and this one was by far the worst. They'd essentially walked through the Stargate and directly into the line of fire.

"Just get the equipment together," she said, placing one hand on his shoulder and pushing him partially off her. "I'll find out what's going on."

Details before they'd left had been sketchy at best. All she knew was that the SG teams had gotten involved in some local altercation and that there were wounded. And that O'Neill had asked for her specifically, a fact that didn't bode well, she thought. The cold lump in her stomach told her that it was Sam. It had to be Sam and it had to be bad or O'Neill would've left it up to the field medics.

Before she could radio O'Neill the area was rocked by another explosion, sending Nagel scrabbling deeper into the cover of the dune, clutching his head. "Nagel, look at me!" she commanded sharply, grabbing his arm and pulling it away from his face. He made a small whimpering sound in the back of his throat, but looked up at her. "Pull yourself together or you're going to get us both killed!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped again.

"Stop being sorry and be ready to move out when I tell you," she ordered. She watched as he tried valiantly to pull himself together, thinking that she had to get him out of here as soon as possible. There was no telling how long she'd be able to bully him into following orders. He was too green and too scared.

"Is Fraiser here yet?" she heard O'Neill demand angrily over the radio. Quickly she thumbed her comm.

"We're here, Colonel. What's your position?"

"About half a k behind the Stargate," he said. "We're in some caves. Carter's wounded. Bad. Daniel and Teal'c will lay down some covering fire. Get here as fast as you can."

"We're on our way," she said, ducking her head as yet another shell exploded nearby. That lump in her stomach rose up into her throat and for a moment she couldn't breathe again. She swallowed past it, or tried to, then looked over at Nagel, who was staring at her with wide eyes as if she were the only thing in the universe standing between him and certain death. Which, she supposed she was, reminding herself that she didn't have the luxury of falling apart under the circumstances.

Instead, she shifted until she was crouching and signaled Nagel. "When I tell you to, run that way. Keep your head down and keep behind cover as much as you can. They're in some caves about half a kilometer away. Do you understand?"

He nodded once, almost violently, then continued staring at her, tensely waiting for her signal.

Squinting through the dust she saw Teal'c and Daniel scramble into position. Teal'c rose slightly and waved in her direction. With a nod she motioned to Nagel and the two of them took off, weaving in and out between rock and sand. She stayed behind Nagel, prepared to give him a swift kick in the rear should he falter for even a second. But he didn't, even when a stream of bullets slammed into the sand at their feet.

Passing Daniel and Teal'c, Janet saw a small dark opening several meters ahead and urged Nagel into a mad sprint for it, diving headfirst through the opening. This time she landed on top of Nagel, but quickly scrambled to her feet.

"Over here!" she heard O'Neill call. Glancing around, she spotted a dim glow from deeper in the cave and followed the tunnel around a corner. The sight that met her eyes made her brain seize up for a moment before she managed to keep her legs moving forward.

O'Neill was kneeling next to Sam, who was stretched out on her back, her abdomen covered with blood. O'Neill was trying unsuccessfully to staunch the flow with his hands, and looked up in relief as she turned the corner. "We were on our way back to the Stargate when we were attacked," he explained as Janet fell to her knees beside him and leaned forward to examine the wound. "The bullet went right through her Kevlar," he added. "We got her into the cave and sent SG7 to secure the Stargate and call in the cavalry."

"General Hammond sent reinforcements," she said, pulling the blood-soaked fabric of Sam's shirt away, going immediately into doctor-mode. "We've got to get her stabilized and back to the SGC right away." Janet dropped one hand to Sam's wrist, noting that her pulse was very weak and thready while she continued to examine the wound. "Get the stretcher ready while I pack this wound." It was the best she could do under the circumstances. They couldn't afford to stay here one second longer than necessary; the quicker they got Sam back to the infirmary, the quicker they'd be able to assess the extent of the damage.

"What can I do?" O'Neill asked, clearly reluctant to leave his 2IC.

"Nothing for the moment," Janet said, reaching into her pack and pulling out a pair of gloves. She didn't need the distraction right now of O'Neill hovering nervously around, but there was little she could do about it.

"Call me when you're ready to go," he said, clearly deciding that he liked standing around nervously even less than she liked having him stand around nervously. "And Doc, make it quick. We're not going to be able to hold this position for long."

"We'll be as fast as we can," she told him, most of her attention focused on Sam at the moment. O'Neill was right--this was bad, a jagged exit-wound in the lower right quadrant. With any luck, the bullet missed her kidney but Janet was certain it had perforated the intestines.

She wasn't even aware when O'Neill left. Nagel finished putting together the stretcher and began assisting her, his hand shaking badly. Considering the circumstances, she was surprised her own weren't shaking, but they were rock steady as she worked to stem the flow of blood from Sam's side. Tossing a blood-soaked pad of gauze aside, she looked up at Nagel. "Help me get her onto the stretcher," she said, moving to grasp Sam by the ankles.

She was just lifting her hand to signal O'Neill that they were ready when the cave was rocked by three explosions, each far more powerful than anything they'd experienced so far. Dust and small pebbles immediately began to rain down on them and Janet instinctively threw herself across Sam to shield her from the worst of it. Nagel took a step away from them, moving unsteadily toward the cave entrance as O'Neill's voice roared from the radio.

"Doc! Doc!"

"Nagel!" she yelled, twisting to face him, but afraid to move too far from Sam in case there was another explosion. "Get over here and help me." The two of them could manage the stretcher and get Sam to safety but they had to go now.

But Nagel was shaking his head slowly back and forth. Bomb after bomb went off, each one feeling closer than the last, knocking them both off balance and sending even more debris down on them. She'd been trapped inside a collapsing tunnel not too long ago--she was determined not to let it happen again.

When everything was quiet for a few minutes she turned to Nagel. But he was already on his feet, and Janet saw that tears were streaming down his face. Before she could open her mouth again to order him to help her he abruptly turned on his heel and ran out of the cave. She jumped up, intent on grabbing him, doing something, anything, to keep him from leaving her behind and darting out into the line of fire. But she wasn't fast enough. Before she could stop him he ducked out of the cave and ran out into the middle of the canyon.

Crouching in the shelter of the entrance, Janet saw that he somehow, miraculously managed to avoid being shot and took off as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of the now active Stargate, stumbling into a huge impact crater not five meters from their position. The only problem was that there was no sign of any SGC personnel, only the dusty brown uniforms of the opposing army as they swarmed into the canyon from both sides. Just as the Stargate deactivated he seemed to realize that something was terribly wrong. He pulled up short, then turned and ran back in her direction. Janet watched in horror as several soldiers closed in on him.

"Surrender," she breathed, horrified but unable to tear her eyes away. "Just surrender." If he surrendered, they wouldn't shoot him, she told herself even though she knew nothing about the enemy. Nagel was weeping openly now, and turned to make another insane dash toward the Stargate, tugging out his sidearm as he ran. Several soldiers bellowed angrily at him.

When the shots rang out, Janet closed her eyes and hid her face against her arm unable to watch as Nagel was gunned down. When she finally managed to force her head up, he was lying in the dust, riddled with bullets. Every instinct inside her screamed for her to go out there and help him anyway, even though she knew it was useless. There was no way he could have survived that, and she felt her heart break for his wife and child.

Given what she'd just witnessed, Janet had no idea what to expect from the army moving in on their position. Shaking, she stumbled back over to Sam and crouched down beside her, wondering desperately what she should do. If they were very lucky nobody would come searching for them inside this cave. That was unlikely--they were in uniform, which meant they were organized in some fashion. The first thing they'd do, she was sure, was secure the area, make certain there were no pockets of resistance anywhere. And caves were the best places to find pockets of resistance, she knew.

Her mind flashed suddenly to a documentary on Viet Nam she'd seen once. Members of the Viet Cong had used an elaborate network of tunnels and caves to wage their guerilla war against the US. Oftentimes, she recalled, when they abandoned such a facility they boobytrapped it, leaving bombs that would kill or seriously wound any soldiers who were sent in to investigate.

These people here had armor-piercing bullets and artillery. The logical thing to do, she realized with horror, would be to bomb the caves to either kill or flush out any potential enemies. She and Sam could be sitting in a death trap.

Clearly O'Neill and the others had either been wounded or forced to evacuate. For their sake she hoped the latter. But this fact left her essentially stranded with a critically wounded patient. Never mind that this patient was her lover and the thought that she could die at any moment left her nearly paralyzed. As she saw it, she had two choices. She could wait here hoping that they didn't search the caves. Or she could go out and surrender. Once again she told herself that if she surrendered they wouldn't shoot her. She might even be able to secure medical attention for Sam.

Janet desperately tried to recall anything about this particular culture, but since there were no medical issues involved, she hadn't sat in on the briefing. By the time there were medical issues there'd been no time for a proper briefing. And despite her attempts to reassure herself, she was under no delusions about what usually happened to women caught behind enemy lines.

She was still kneeling beside Sam, trying to figure out what to do when she heard the crunch of boots near the entrance to the cave. Rising to her feet, she stood protectively in front of Sam, though she deliberately kept her hand off her sidearm. The last thing she needed was to be gunned down by a panicky alien soldier.

Two of them came round the corner, weapons brandished in front of them and stopped short when they saw her. Slowly, Janet lifted her hands in the air, hoping they understood that she was surrendering. Immediately, one of them turned and called out, and two more soldiers stepped into the cramped cave.

"Throw your weapons down!" one of them commanded, and she was grateful that they spoke English. Keeping one hand in the air, she pulled her sidearm from its holster with two fingers and tossed it to the ground in front of her. Instantly, it was retrieved by the soldier nearest to her, the one who'd spoken, and handed back. "Out!" he commanded, waving one arm behind him.

"I have a wounded person here," she said, indicating Sam with a small nod of her head. "She needs medical attention."

"Out!" he commanded again, reaching forward to grasp her arm, hauling her forward. She was roughly manhandled out of the cave and pushed into the open space in front of the cave. Heavy hands on her shoulders forced her to drop to her knees. Behind her, two soldiers hefted Sam's stretcher between them, and carried her out of the cave, setting her down next to Janet.

Glancing over at the silent Stargate, Janet wondered if Hammond would send a rescue team right away. Probably not, she told herself. Providing he hadn't been injured, O'Neill was probably giving Hammond a hard time about coming back for them, but if she knew Hammond, he'd want more information before he sent any more of his people into danger. For the time being, they were on their own. Just to be sure, she scanned the area. Aside from Nagel's body, which they'd just left lying there face down in the dirt, she didn't see any sign of SGC personnel. Hopefully they'd all made it back through the Stargate.

A short, gray-haired man with a bushy beard approached her. Judging by the decorations on his uniform he was an officer, she thought, possibly the person in charge here. She waited tensely, uncertain of what was going to happen. A younger man, presumably an aide of some sort, followed him. The two of them approached Janet, then moved to walk past Sam, before returning to stand in front of her again.

"Who are you?" the older officer asked.

"Doctor Janet Fraiser," she said, leaning back on her heels and looking up at him. "United States Air Force."

"Which system lord do you serve?"

"None," Janet said, shaking her head.

He stepped forward, seizing a large handful of her hair and roughly yanked her head to the side. "You lie!"

It was all she could do to keep her hands at her sides, to not reach up and try to pry his hands off her. "I'm not lying," she said through clenched teeth.

"You came through the portal," he said, giving her a vicious shake that nearly rattled her teeth in her head. "Only the system lords and their armies use the portal."

"We use it to fight the system lords," she said.

He released her abruptly, laughing harshly. "Take her to the transport. They'll get the information out of her at the Zone. This one," he added, walking past Sam and nudging her with the toe of his boot. "Is dead. Leave her."

"No!" Janet said, trying to rise. Instantly, fingers dug into her arms and she felt hard metal against her head. The officer's aide was pressing a weapon against her temple. Frantically, she stared at Sam's chest, trying to convince herself that it was still rising and falling. It was still rising and falling, it had to be.

"She will be soon enough," the officer observed after a moment. "If you tell us which system lord you serve, I might spare her."

Janet wanted to tell him again that they didn't serve any system lord, but that was clearly not what he wanted to hear. There was only one thing left to do and that was lie. She appeared to debate it for several long moments, while he continued to wait expectantly. Finally, feigning defeat, she slowly nodded her head. "Lord Hammond," she said, praying that he would buy it. "We serve Lord Hammond."

He frowned. "I have never heard of Lord Hammond. You are not telling me the truth!" He leaned menacingly over Sam.

Janet looked up, widening her eyes into a shocked expression. "It's the truth. Lord Hammond aided Sokar in defeating Apophis." Well that was true, she thought. Sort of. "One day he will rule the galaxy." Mrs. Russell, her high school drama teacher would be appalled, she thought.

He stepped away, regarding her thoughtfully. "Take them to the transport," he said finally. "Both of them. The Commander will want to know everything there is to know about this 'Lord Hammond.'" He glanced meaningfully up at the group of soldiers who had stepped forward. "Make sure she's still alive when you get to the Zone," he added, running the back of his hand beneath her jaw and along the side of her face.

Janet was dragged to her feet. She watched as two soldiers, under the direction of the officer's aide, lifted Sam and began carrying her away from the Stargate. She was pulled along behind them.

Eventually, she was released, but shoved along in front of a group of four soldiers. They seemed to take a particular delight in pushing her roughly whenever she faltered, and she definitely didn't like the way they were looking at her. This was definitely not good, she thought.

The canyon snaked through the desert for what appeared to be miles in either direction. By her reckoning they'd walked for nearly two kilometers before they turned a sharp bend and she spotted something that looked like it came off the set of Star Trek. An ominous-looking black cube hovered at the top of the cliff, a platform, resting on the canyon floor, attached to it by eight thick cables.

The entire group stepped onto the platform, and waited expectantly. In seconds, the platform gave a small lurch and began to rise slowly into the air, taking them up into the belly of the transport. With a metallic thud and a shudder, the platform locked into place.

As she was waved off the platform, Janet looked around, feeling her mouth grow dry with dread. This was like a floating prison, she realized, the walls lined with holding cells, all on multiple levels and rising straight up to the ceiling. The entire space was filled with the quiet shuffling sounds of an enormous human population lurking just out of sight. As she was escorted along a row of cells she looked closely and saw huddled forms through the bars. Men, women and children, all hollow-eyed and dirty, staring out in terror.

"In!" The sharp voice broke her horrified reverie, and she turned to see the two soldiers who had been carrying Sam step out of a cell whose door was thrown wide open. Janet slipped quickly to Sam's side, barely hearing the clang of the cell door as it swung shut behind her.

Her fingers quickly sought out Sam's pulse, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief as she felt it throb against her fingertips. It was weak but still there. Sam was still with her. Feeling suddenly drained, she sank down to the floor next to Sam and brushed a hand through her hair.

A soft groan alerted her to the presence of someone else in the cell, and she was on her feet and standing protectively in front of Sam before she even realized what she was doing. Sam had managed to survive this long--she was going to make damn sure nothing happened to her now.

Squinting, she was able to make out the faint outline of a man lying in the far corner of the cell, curled miserably on his side. "Please…" he gasped, lifting one hand out to her. Almost unwillingly, she took a single step forward, her eyes quickly appraising him. He was severely wounded, she realized, blood oozing from multiple bullet wounds on his abdomen and chest. A thin stream of blood trickled from his mouth. "Help me," he whispered. She took another step forward, then nearly fell over backwards when his eyes lit up with the familiar glow of a Goa'uld. "Help me," he said again, voice thick and distorted.

Could this day get any worse, she asked herself frantically. It wasn't enough that Sam was critically wounded and they were prisoners on an alien planet. Now they had to be stuck in a cell with a Goa'uld. She backpedaled quickly, and took up her position over Sam.

The transport gave a single shudder, then Janet felt it start to move, nearly throwing her off balance. She managed not to fall over without taking her eyes off the Goa'uld, who had not moved. He started at her intently for several minutes, then glanced behind her at Sam. She didn't want this thing looking at Sam, and shifted her position to block his view. His eyes slid up to meet hers again. "I am Garin," he said, pausing to swallow thickly, his eyes drooping closed for a moment. "I need your help," he added. "And you need mine."

Janet licked her lips. "You'll forgive me for saying so, but you don't look like you could be very much help to anybody."

"You're wrong," he said. He pushed back the fabric of his robe and lifted a ribbon device. "The guards are fools. They did not search me when they captured me."

"Then why are you still here?" she asked, staring dubiously at the glittering object. "Why not just blast your way out of here with that thing?"

His arm dropped. "She is dying," he observed, nodding at Sam. "She will not survive where we are going, that I promise you," he added solemnly. "None of us will unless you help me. This body is damaged beyond my ability to heal."

Janet was starting to have a bad feeling about where this was heading. "You're looking for a host," she blurted suddenly. "Aren't you?" Her eyes were drawn back over to Sam. "She's badly wounded," she continued, pushing the words out of her suddenly numb mouth. "Probably too badly for you to heal her, too. And I can't make that decision for her anyway." God, why was she even having this conversation?

"But you can make it for yourself," he said, staring meaningfully up at her.

She turned and stared at him in shock. "No!" she exclaimed, backing away from him until her shoulders were pressed into the wall. "No!" she repeated, feeling like she was going to throw up.

"There are only a dozen men on this transport. The six who came on board with you and six crew. I saw the way they looked at you," he added, his eyes sliding up and down her body. "They will come for you soon. With this we can destroy them and escape." He held the ribbon device up and shook it. "This body is too badly damaged to work the device," he said. "You must become my host or we will all die. I swear I will help you get her back through the Chapa'ai."

"I can't trust you!" she exclaimed, pacing back and forth in front of Sam. "How do I know you won't get inside me and just take off on your own. I know how this works. I won't exactly have any say in the matter."

He coughed, blood frothing around his lips. "You don't have any choice," he said. "I was once a member of the Tok'ra."

"And I should believe you because?" she asked, hands on hips. A burst of laughter echoed down the corridor outside their cell. "You'd say anything to save yourself."

"They'll rape her too," he said, pointing at Sam. "It won't matter to them that she's wounded. It won't even matter to them if she's dead. I've seen them do things you can't even begin to imagine. And when we get to the Zone, you will wish you had died!" His voice was becoming weaker, accompanied by an awful wheezing sound. "You can hear for yourself. I can save us all, but I can't do it without you. You must become my host. There's no time. I swear on the life of my mate, Alsha, that I will save your friend."

The soldiers had stopped somewhere down the hall, turning their attentions on a poor woman who was pleading loudly with them. Janet squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the awful clamor. Sam was dying and judging from the sound of things, there were horrors in store for both of them just a few meters away, not to mention whatever was waiting for them at the Zone.

The strength seemed to drain from her limbs and she dropped to her knees. It was the only way. She knew deep inside that it was the only way and yet she didn't know if she had the strength to do it. Many at the SGC felt it was better to die than become a host. While she didn't feel quite so vehement about it, a part of her did agree. Now, when faced with the choice she discovered that there really wasn't a choice at all. Had Sam's life not been at stake the decision would have been easy; it was better to die than become a host. But if there was a chance, any chance at all, no matter how slim, to save Sam she had to take it. She couldn't rely on O'Neill and a rescue party to reach them in time; there wasn't any time and each second took them further and further away from the Stargate and brought those men closer and closer. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers tenderly across Sam's cheek. Sam groaned softly and turned into the caress.

"I'd better be able to trust you," she whispered tightly, thinking how utterly lame that sounded. "What do I have to do?"

"Put the device on," he said. Janet picked the ribbon device up with trembling hands, slipping it onto her wrist and fitting the gold tips over her fingers. Expectantly, she looked over at Garin. "Come closer," he said. "I will enter through your mouth."

She nearly recoiled at that, but forced herself to lean closer, tensing when the fingers of his right hand curled around her neck and held her in place. "I will keep my word," he breathed. "I promise."

Feeling sick inside, Janet slowly opened her mouth and pressed her lips to his, shuddering at the tangy taste of the blood covering his lips.

He kissed her, something that took her by surprise as she felt his mouth move gently against hers. Then something cold and rough passed through her lips and slid down her throat. Gagging, she tried to pull away even as a searing pain filled her head, blocking out all sensation, blocking out all sense of her body. There was nothing but horrible, spiraling agony as an alien body forced its way past tissues and bones and tendons that were never meant to be parted, invaded, setting nerve endings aflame as it curled around her brainstem and began to meld with her nervous system.

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