Author's Notes: WARNING - Whilst this is still PG-13, I would warn the reader that this part does contain more violence than the other parts. Please be warned.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
" We've defeated the Goa'uld more than once, we can kick ass with you guys real easy!" O'Neill shouted at the two shapes which had emerged from the dark, and were moving towards himself and Carter.
The aliens reached eagerly towards the two officers, the air taking on a decayed smell. O'Neill grimaced. Sam looked at the shapes. They hovered only feet away now, their eyes glinting, hard and cold, as stones shining wet on a beach. Sam drew her hand across her mouth to mask the nausea she felt.
"We are interested, Jack O'Neill. Tell us more of the Goa'uld. Tell us how you made them suffer. Goa'uld have died here too. Too arrogant to realise that they were destroying themselves. Tormented until their parasites were torn from their bodies in self - mutilation. You think you can defeat us, Jack O'Neill. To plant but a simple thought into someone's mind, that is all it takes to destroy a culture, a world. We but suggested that their soldiers despise the symbiot within them until the torment was so great that they had to remove them. The Goa'uld were easy to defeat. They have not returned. Arrogance is a wall of self-destruction. It is easy to climb. The Goa'uld were arrogant."
"And I suppose you're not?" Carter said, her face contorted with disgust, as she rose to her feet. "You make me sick! Don't tell them about the Goa'uld, sir. They just want to gloat."
The aliens hissed at her. She could feel the fetid breath on her face and felt the usual wave of revulsion.
Sam stood her ground, her eyes glinting coldly.
O'Neill winced, putting his hand up to his officer's arm to try to stop her, but she shook it free.
The talk of the deaths of the Goa'uld had caused a shockwave to course through her system. The memories of Jolinar were strong now. She suddenly felt Jolinar's pain at the memories of the Tok'ra who had passed through the gate onto this world. Spies within the Jaffa armies, sent to their deaths on this God-forsaken world. Sam shuddered as she stared into the eyes of one of the aliens, but she held her stance and pulled at herself inwardly. Somewhere, somewhere from Jolinar, she was being given the strength to do this, the strength of the Tok'ra.
"We are not arrogant, Samantha Carter. We simply are. Here, all that is, belongs to us. Your very spirit belongs to us. In this place we take what is necessary. This place is our feeding ground. You are in our feeding ground and we shall feed. It is simple."
"Hey, Captain, we're in a ghoul-town diner. Nice thought," O'Neill quipped as he rose to stand close next to Carter. He had a feeling they needed to stay ahead on this one.
Laughter echoed around the chamber, whirling around in circles until it faded.
"Well, hey I'm glad you like a joke, guys," O'Neill said. "But, you just don't get it do you? We're getting real tired of all this. Isn't it obvious to you that we're not gonna play your games? How hard is it for you to understand that you can't get to us?"
"We tire of your pathetic attempts at freedom, O'Neill. This chamber contains the emotions of all that have gone before you. It is where your emotions must be channelled. Contained here are the spirits, the very essence of all who have ever trespassed on this planet. Stronger beings than you have sought to win their freedom. All have failed. Now you will show us your inner self, O'Neill. Now you will both show us what is within you. Then you will not want to exist. You will beg to die. It is time."
Carter felt an involuntary shudder as she watched the aliens move to the other side of the chamber and settle. An energy filled the air. An energy they hadn't felt before. A dread started to come over her and she moved closer to O'Neill.
"Think we're pissing them off, Captain?" O'Neill muttered sarcastically.
"I don't like this," she whispered, fingering her knife tenderly.
"Keep focused, Captain," he returned.
A sudden memory, deep from Jolinar's past, shot to her mind unbidden. Her eyes widened as she felt it, took its message and acted swiftly.
Taking the knife she turned to tear the bottom of the fabric of her black tee-shirt into small strips.
O'Neill eyed her with interest and confusion. "You hot, or is this a plan, Captain?" he shot briefly, his eyes half on the aliens and half on her.
"It's from something Jolinar knows," she whispered. "Can't explain it, Colonel, just do it," she looked earnestly at him and stuffed the small strips one each, into her ears, pushing them down hard, and then motioned for him to do the same. With her hands she indicated that they should keep the cloth intact. O'Neill nodded, his eyes quizzical.
The silence within the darkness of the room almost terrified Sam with its intensity. She struggled to find the strength she'd felt moments ago but somehow it was missing, lost with her hearing. Then she felt O'Neill move closer to her, his shoulder against hers. There they stood, their defence intact, and waited.
If they hadn't had their ears blocked, each would have heard the other's sharp intake of breath, as the chamber started to fill. It filled with the visions of the dead, of the souls tormented to their destruction within its walls. It filled with their terror and their tormented faces, and muted screams which assailed their ears through the depths of the cloth. And yet, the whispering from the aliens couldn't penetrate.
Carter and O'Neill were effectively cut off from each other. Not being able to hear the other's words of comfort or words of reassurance was hard, and yet Sam knew she was right in doing what she'd done. She knew because Jolinar knew. Jolinar knew the history of this place, of that she was sure. If there was anything else in there, she had to retrieve it. Yet she couldn't. She'd had visions at other times, but they came to her without her asking it, just as the last one had. Perhaps this was all that Jolinar knew of this hell-hole, and of the Goa'uld slaughter here. Sam wondered how many other species had died here, in one of these slaughter houses.
Fingers suddenly closed around her hand, and she turned her head to look gratefully at O'Neill, his reassuring nod giving her a warmth which had been lacking in her mind before. They could fight this together. They could do it.
"We have never used the Cragsh'a to such ends. We have never killed."
"But their minds are closed to us. Without our words reaching their ears we are unable to influence these two sufficiently."
"We have never encountered such stubbornness among the human species before."
"They have evolved to a higher state of awareness than was anticipated."
"Then in only a few millennia they may evolve further."
"Perhaps. Some races have. Most did not thrive."
"This is true. Though the humans may evolve in a different way."
"Yes, but if they do, they may lose that which we seek now. That which we need. They may evolve as we did. They will need to feed. They would make a formidable opponent for us."
"We can wait."
"And of these two?"
"There must be no trace, as it has always been. Since the Goa'uld walked this world in search of the energy source and with their arrogance brought us the gift of so many races, so many minds to feed on."
"You must use the Cragsh'a to gain their emotions. It is the only method left to us"
"It is forbidden to do so."
"We are the only left who would know."
"It is true but I am reluctant."
"I am not. We have been unable to persuade the humans to take their own lives or each other's. I grow tired of waiting."
"You are too impatient."
"Perhaps, but there have been many souls who have refused to bend to our will across time. We have never had to kill them. Their acceptance of their own inevitable and slow death diminished the strength of their emotions, but it was of little consequence. These humans are stronger. Their emotions more powerful. To feed on these would renew our energy. I am hungry for the strength of the emotion these humans offer, before they too lose their determination to live or to care."
"Very well. If they are unprepared to take their own lives or that of each other, we must do it for them. It is their compassion, the strongest of all the emotions which we crave. We will taste the compassion within each of them."
"What of the other human, Jackson?"
"He cannot leave by the travel device. The Goa'uld have made sure of that. We will track him once we have fed on these two. He will perhaps be more difficult than these two."
"I agree. Let us finish here and then the hunt may begin"
Images of death and images of terror played through the chamber, just as a tape reveals its secrets.
The sounds were muted by the man-made plugs which Sam had ensured they had in their ears. For that, she would always be grateful to what remained of Jolinar within her. The host and the symbiot, always together, never able to go their separate ways even when death had separated them. Sam looked briefly to the ground and remembered Jolinar's compassion. She remembered it and she thanked her for it. She was still helping her, still coming to her aid in trouble. And yet what had she done for Jolinar? A brief time in her body and to what end? In the end it was Jolinar who had given up for her, so that she might live. That told her something about the person, about the woman who had given her so much, including her life.
O'Neill felt Sam's fingers grip his hand tighter until her nails bit into his flesh. He squeezed in return and she relaxed, her eyes turning to him. Eyes filled with an empty acceptance that they would face this, whichever way it went, eyes which told him she was grateful for his presence, grateful for his strength. Grateful not to be alone.
He nodded imperceptibly, a slight smile touching his lips and then fading. She was strong. Stronger sometimes than he felt. He certainly knew she was more headstrong and had the open compassion he often saw in Daniel. The two of them, compassionate, headstrong people. And he? He knew the depth of his compassion, just didn't make it public quite so often as they did, didn't reveal it to them as often. That was just his way. He liked it that way.
A gust of wind touched his face and broke into his thoughts. He looked up to see four alien forms moving across the floor at them at speed. He gripped Sam's hand tighter and moved backwards, his other hand flicking his weapon upwards and towards them. A pointless motion, he knew that, but it made him feel better anyway.
The chamber's deathly visions had vanished from sight, a brief light now coming from far above them, illuminating the walls and allowing the pair to see the chamber in its entirety, the darkness diminished.
Every wall was engraved with some sort of inscription. Many different languages, some of which Sam recognised, the rest totally alien to her. To the far side, a distance from where they were standing, a tall slim pedestal emerged from the floor slowly until it rested on the ground, a spherically shaped black stone at its centre on the top. From the stone a glowing, dark whirling cloud of sheer energy started to pulse outwards and up through an opening in the roof of the chamber.
The four aliens sheered away from O'Neill and Carter and grouped behind the pedestal, their arms raised towards the light, which came in from above. The walls started to pulse somehow. O'Neill didn't know how but he could feel it. He could feel the ground rumble and move beneath them.
Shards of energy pulsing, around the chamber, around the whole sphere.
The aliens moved to the front of the pedestal and turned towards them. Each alien had one clawed hand on the black stone. The energy pulsed through their limbs and into their bodies. Each hand started to point in turn. The energy, a mere flicker at the end of each finger, sparking, ready to jump the gap between the pedestal and the two SG officers.
Sam backed slightly, her head turning towards her commanding officer to seek his command. She pulled the strips of cloth from her ears, unable to stand in silence any longer. It was obvious the aliens weren't about to try more whispering tricks. They had something much more deadly in mind.
O'Neill faced the aliens silently, raising his hand to pull the ear plugs free as Sam had. He was damned if he was going to face this without being able to shout some sort of taunt at them. Then he realised that he was accepting the fate they were offering and he pulled himself up straight. He'd never gone down without a fight, ever. He wasn't about to now.
"Easy, Captain," he said as he saw Carter pull her knife from its sheath once more and stand defensively next to him, her face locked into determination.
"Colonel, I'm not going to die in here without a fight," Sam said with conviction as she accepted that there was probably no way out.
"Yeah," he replied quietly. "Me too, Captain. Me too."
The aliens became almost as one, the energy dancing between them, lighting the end of the chamber until both O'Neill and Carter had to look down, the flares were so intense. And then it darkened again. Briefly. The four hands moved together, becoming a single flare of energy which suddenly flew, across the room, closing the gap between attacker and prey. Within seconds it arced high into the air and then raced down, splitting into two, the one heading straight for O'Neill, the other for Carter.
"Together," O'Neill had time to shout before he threw himself away from the beam which came straight for him, dragging Carter in the same direction and away from hers. A cold wall of wind hit both of their bodies instead and knocked them sideways some ten feet.
The alien shrieking was intense, their dismay heightened by seeing the beams shatter into two as they both hit the ground instead of their intended targets.
Sam crawled across to O'Neill and they both made for the wall at the side of the chamber.
"Jeez, what was that?" O'Neill mouthed as he drew air in a large gulp, the wind knocked out of him.
Sam could hardly speak, swallowing frequently instead as she recovered her breath. She shook her head.
"It's okay, if you explained it I doubt I'd understand anyway," he muttered.
They both sat, their backs against the wall for a single moment before they saw the end of the chamber light again.
"Looks like that upset them," O'Neill said ruefully, as he pulled Carter to her feet and they stood facing the aliens again.
"Now why d'ya want to go and do that for?" O'Neill shouted confidently at his captors.
To his surprise they stayed silent.
"Hey, boys, lost your voices suddenly?" he added in a loud taunt.
"If the energy is infinite, we could go on like this for hours, Colonel," Sam reminded him, standing firm in wait.
"Sure, but look at it this way, Captain, we just bought ourselves more time," he said and smiled.
Daniel had had to stop in the end. His energy levels were so low he found his eyesight misting over and he was stumbling so much in the dark, the going was impossible. He decided that the trees seemed to attract attention from the aliens, probably because they knew that life forms would seek shelter. He stayed out in the open and finally slumped down behind a large boulder which had a few smaller ones dotted around.
The sleep, which washed over him wasn't pleasant. Disturbed by dreams. Dark dreams of death. Dark dreams of his friends crying out for him. He moved uncomfortably and restlessly. The dark mantle, which settled over him finally, stayed in place until the dawn.
"I won't let you die out here, I won't leave you to the aliens," he cried out, turning in uncontrollable panic as he sat up sharply, sweat beading on his forehead.
"And you shall not, Daniel Jackson," the voice droned back.
Daniel sat up. The aliens had returned, of that he was sure. He thought he'd fooled them, or at least satisfied them that he wasn't worth the chase for the moment. He had to be wrong. He reached for his glasses and put them onto his face, squinting to see past the glare of the newly risen sun.
Two figures stood over him, looking down at him. He blinked and then his face creased into a smile.
"Teal'c," he said as he leapt to his feet and threw his arms around the startled form of the Jaffa, his staff held firmly in his hand.
"Colonel, I don't like this," Sam whispered to O'Neill as they stood together. "It's been about ten minutes and they're still just facing one another," she added.
"Got some little surprise up their sleeves probably," O'Neill replied.
Then, with a frighteningly co-ordinated movement, the aliens turned again towards them. They moved closer together this time, each finger joined as one until the clawed hands became a single weapon, pointing at the two of them.
"Ready, Captain?" O'Neill muttered as he took his stand, Carter next to him.
"Ready, Colonel," she replied steadily.
The energy arced across the room, just as it had before, followed by the wind, the icy blast sending them both tumbling sideways, but although the beam missed them, this time the intensity of the blast sent them further apart from one another.
The aliens shrieked loudly, voices joining together and increasing in intensity, their pleasure at splitting them obvious.
Sam scrambled to her feet and started towards where she knew O'Neill was, his winded body dragging itself up the side of the chamber so that he could stand again, ready for the next onslaught.
As he turned towards her, he saw from the corner of his eye, that the arc had split into two, and was dividing even as they moved. He watched with horror as one of the divided streams of energy raced across the ground and turned towards the figure of Sam Carter.
He shouted the warning, heard it leave his lips and saw her turn her head just in time to see the blue energy beam descend upon her almost immediately. He thought he heard her scream, but he couldn't be sure. Time seemed to stand still.
He watched as she was hauled up into the air by her foot and left dangling for a brief second, before she was swung around momentarily and then thrown some twenty feet into the air and caught again by the same beam. He watched mesmerised, horrified and helpless.
As he watched the final fling of his officer's body across the chamber he felt his heart pound. His feet moving before he knew. Then he was across the chamber and almost at her side when another arc of energy, shot out from the globe and kicked her body sideways, away from him.
"Damn it, leave her alone," he shouted at the aliens and then flung himself across Sam's crumpled form before the beam could reach her again. From the side of his eye he watched the beam change course as soon as he'd reached her and dissipate into the side of the chamber. The purpose was obvious. The aliens had achieved their end. They wanted to watch his emotions as he watched his officer die.
"You bastards," was all he could think of saying as he turned her over to look at the damage.