Ashes

by

Tiffany Park

"Hold still," the rebel Jaffa said gruffly.

Colonel Makepeace nodded, and he felt the ropes binding his wrists cut away. His arms swung free, tingling with pins and needles after having been restrained for so long. "Thanks," he said, rubbing his wrists.

The Jaffa grunted and moved on to cut the bonds off the next man, Lieutenant Asher of SG-11. His CO, Major Tate, joined him, having already been freed by another of Bra'tac's rebels.

Nearby rested that strangely-shaped death glider Teal'c had piloted through the Stargate, the vanguard of a last-ditch rescue that had come in the literal nick of time. While the glider fired on the blaster turrets that guarded the gate, Bra'tac had come through the event horizon with a small force of four of his rebels, all armed with staff weapons. They had handled the ground resistance admirably.

Makepeace remembered his surprise, when the canopy had opened and General Hammond had climbed out of the glider after Teal'c. That wasn't what Makepeace had expected when he'd requested reinforcements. Things back home must have gone sour in a major way, for the general himself to come with only Teal'c and a handful of Jaffa.

In the distance, the gaping hole in Hathor's pyramid belched great clouds of smoke from the explosion that had destroyed the generator. The poisonous-looking fumes billowed in the air and dissipated into a thick haze that was starting to obscure the bright blue sky.

A fire must still be burning in there, Makepeace realized. It stood to reason. Big explosions like that created incredible amounts of raw heat energy, which could ignite a lot of materials. Such an intensely hot fire might easily spread throughout the pyramid. As he watched, a fireball erupted out the ragged hole, a bloom of orange light streaked with black soot. A brief roar accompanied the pyrotechnics, then the whole show faded. The clouds of smoke grew thicker.

Makepeace wondered if anybody was still inside the structure. Anyone too near the explosions would be toast--the shock wave blasts and flying shrapnel would have ensured that. The heat, smoke, and ripping winds from the fire would probably make the entire pyramid unlivable.

He shrugged. Anyone left inside would be hostiles: more of Hathor's Jaffa and maybe a Goa'uld or two. Let 'em burn. He had no sympathy. They'd cost him too much. He hoped they all got what was coming to them. He looked again at the smoke rising over the tree line, and smiled.

Objectively, he knew the mission was a success, exceeding its goals beyond anyone's wildest expectations. SG-1 had been rescued. Even more, Hathor herself had been killed, her operation scuttled and her pyramid captured, an outcome that no one had dared to hope for, given the small size of the assault force. Makepeace knew the favorable outcome had come about due to some pretty amazing coincidences. If Hammond and Bra'tac's forces had arrived just a little later, everyone might have been lost. Trofsky wouldn't have thought twice about shooting hostages, and O'Neill and Carter would have eventually been overwhelmed and retaken. In revenge for Hathor's death, Trofsky might very well have had them all killed.

In spite of the eleventh hour rescue, the casualty count was painfully large. Of the fifteen men under Makepeace's command, only eight remained. He'd taken count, adding the latest losses to the tally he'd kept running in his head throughout the mission, as he waited on his knees as one of Trofsky's hostages. He knew who all the KIA's and MIA's were.

SG-5 had lost two men during the first firefight inside the pyramid. SG-6 had also lost one man during that battle; that team's remaining three members had disappeared during the fight at the Stargate, but had all ended up as Trofsky's prisoners. SG-11 had also lost a man at the Stargate, but fortunately the rest of them were still alive as well.

Of his own team, SG-3, there wasn't a trace. No bodies, no nothing. Makepeace didn't want to dwell on the implications, although he knew he'd have to face them pretty soon.

Makepeace felt unbearably weary. Not just because he feared his entire team was dead, although that was a large part of his problem. It had been two long, sleepless days since the start of the rescue mission. Before that, SG-3 had been on a routine recon mission that had been interrupted by the Tok'ra. A welcome interruption, since they had provided information about where to find SG-1, and even provided blueprints to Hathor's base.

He looked around, watching the remnants of the assault force he had led. The men who had already been freed were assisting the rebel Jaffa to secure prisoners. The others waited their turn as two more Jaffa walked among them, using large, sharp knives to cut their wrists free. The men were a study in exhaustion and mixed emotions. Quietly exultant at the success, subdued and somber at its price tag, shell-shocked at their lost comrades.

In contrast, O'Neill was jabbering a mile a minute at Hammond and Teal'c. Amped up on too much adrenaline, Makepeace judged. The man had been taken as a host--and probably tortured in the process by the snake-bastard that had taken up residence inside his skull--then somehow had been released from that horrific mental imprisonment. His behavior was all too understandable.

Jackson and Carter stood silent near their hyped CO. Jackson was staring at O'Neill like he'd come back from the dead. Also an understandable reaction. What Makepeace found surprising was that Jackson didn't appear to even remember that he had a serious leg injury. Makepeace eyed the charred and blood-stained material of Jackson's pant leg, considered that Jackson didn't seem to be feeling any pain, and concluded that O'Neill wasn't the only person running on an overdose of adrenaline.

O'Neill chattered on, still caught up in his head-rush, oblivious to how his jazzed behavior could be misinterpreted by traumatized and battle-weary troops. Makepeace wondered how long it would take for him to crash. He hoped O'Neill came down from his high pretty soon.

SG-1 was now Hammond's problem, though. Makepeace had other fish to fry. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst, then picked up a handgun, holstered it, and walked over to the spot where two of Bra'tac's Jaffa and four survivors of the assault force stood guard over the prisoners. Makepeace saw with approval that Trofsky and his cohorts had already been zip-cuffed and forced to sit on the trampled ground.

Major Dunnston of SG-11 came forward. "Colonel Makepeace?"

Makepeace gestured at Trofsky. "He secured?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Makepeace looked Trofsky straight in the eye. Hathor's chief henchman sneered at him. Makepeace grimaced and said, "It's time he and I had a little heart to heart."

At a signal from Dunnston, Greer and Mahoney, the two survivors of SG-5, hauled Trofsky to his feet and dragged him front and center. "He's all yours, sir," Mahoney said.

Trofsky struck an arrogant pose and snorted with contempt. "What do you want, Tau'ri?" he asked, looking at Makepeace as though he were less than an insect.

Amazing how the son of a bitch could maintain his superiority complex, considering the predicament he was in. Makepeace said shortly, "I want to know what happened to my men."

Trofsky's lip curled. Makepeace wanted to hit him. The SOB said, "I see many men here. You'll have to be more specific."

"The three men who were waiting here, guarding the Stargate. They were the first group you ambushed here. Where are they?"

Trofsky stared at him with disturbing intensity. Makepeace wondered what was going on in that twisted brain. Probably nothing good. Trofsky cocked a supercilious brow and said, "They were yours? It pleases me to inform you that my Jaffa killed them all."

Makepeace felt a tremor go through him and held himself under tight control. That news shouldn't have been such a shock. It was no more than he'd expected.

Trofsky observed him closely. "Would you like the details? No doubt you would prefer to hear that your men died heroically. Nothing could be further from the truth, Tau'ri. When they realized they were outnumbered and surrounded, they surrendered like pathetic churai. They had some use, at least, in that they provided amusement for my Jaffa for quite a while. My troops displayed impressive creativity and ingenuity in their little...entertainments." He paused, then added slowly, plainly savoring each loathsome word, "In the end, your men crawled on their bellies like vermin and licked the filth from my boots, begging me to spare their worthless lives."

Dunnston, Greer, and Mahoney all stiffened. Makepeace's hands clenched into fists, but he forced himself to remain still. He said in a low, deadly voice, "That's a lie."

"Is it?" Trofsky laughed coarsely.

"Tchu chak noni'irk!" A rebel Jaffa slammed the end of his staff into Trofsky's side, knocking the man off his feet. Sprawled in the dirt, Trofsky gagged and coughed as he tried to catch his breath. "Lying geraakdi," the Jaffa added, snorting his contempt.

Staring without pity at Hathor's henchman, Makepeace said with deceptive calm, "We both know you're lying. I was in radio contact with my men when your people attacked. When we arrived at the Stargate you had already taken cover." That was true. The logical reasoning helped settle him. "You fired on us as soon as we showed up, so you must have spent the time planning and preparing for the party. You would have had to prep and hide your Jaffa, pack dirt over the areas where the weapons' towers were buried, clean up the site. That wouldn't have allowed you much time for any nasty games."

With effort, Trofsky managed to get his feet under him and stand up. "Perhaps." He looked smug.

"Cut the crap. I want to know where the bodies are." Makepeace had every intention of taking his men home for burial, if at all possible.

"Bodies?" Trofsky's mouth curved into an oily grin.

"Yes, bodies. You claim you killed them, so where are the bodies?" It occurred to Makepeace that Trofsky might have had them vaporized with zat gun discharges, to get them out of the way.

"You have obviously misunderstood me. Just because we killed them doesn't mean they are dead." Trofsky was clearly enjoying himself.

The meaning was crystal clear. "Hathor had a sarcophagus?" Even as he said it, Makepeace wondered why the thought hadn't occurred to him before. Hathor had somehow managed to shanghai an entire pyramid. Why not a sarcophagus, too? Hell, for all he knew, the damned things came as standard equipment on the average Goa'uld pyramid, the snake version of air conditioning and bucket seats.

Then again, Trofsky could be lying through his teeth, just for the pleasure of seeing his captors squirm. Makepeace didn't want to play along with any cat and mouse games, but couldn't afford to ignore anything the bastard said. He asked with calculated disbelief, "Why would she bother reviving enemies?"

"My queen wanted as many humans taken as possible, to be used as Jaffa soldiers in her new army." Trofsky smirked. "Corpses are useless for such a purpose."

Crap. That actually sounded plausible. He had to follow up. "All right, I suppose it doesn't matter whether I believe you or not. I want them back, whatever their condition. So where would I find them?"

Trofsky's eyes held a vengeful gleam. He stayed silent just a moment too long, and Makepeace couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed the man by the front of his fake, futuristic uniform and shook him. "Where are they?!" he shouted.

Trofsky jerked himself free. "There," he said, pointing his chin in the direction of the burning pyramid. "While you and your craven force were shivering in those penakha tunnels, I had my Jaffa remove the bodies to our queen's pyramid. Assuming your friends were revived, they are now helpless in the cell block, dead or dying. Again." He laughed malevolently. "You Tau'ri have only yourselves to blame for their ultimate fate."

Makepeace brusquely shoved Trofsky aside and swung around. He stared at the column of black smoke rising into the sky, feeling a terrible chill. The explosion, he thought wildly. The fire, still burning. The smoke looked thicker, hotter, than it had before. It had spread, and he could smell the acrid stench filtering through the air.

Suddenly, almost perversely, he found himself praying that Trofsky was lying, that his teammates were truly dead, not dying of flames and fumes in some obscene Goa'uld dungeon, screaming in agony as their fluids boiled and their flesh blistered and cooked...

He closed his eyes, putting a ruthless chokehold on his imagination. He'd seen too much carnage in his life, and gruesome images came all too easily. This is what the self-serving bastard wants, he told himself. Don't let him get to you.

He ran through the probable scenarios, remembering how Trofsky and his Jaffa warriors had appeared using transport rings, how the weapons' towers had erupted from the ground and rained down lethal blasts to scatter his assault force. How that damned force field had shielded Hathor's troops from the SG teams' weapons, while allowing the enemy energy bolts to pass through. The exact same thing had probably happened to SG-3.

They might have survived. But if so, why hadn't they been used as leverage against Makepeace and the retreating Earth troops? Trofsky obviously considered the tactic worthwhile, since later on he had tried it against O'Neill and Carter. Besides, the survivors of SG-6, who had disappeared during the battle at the Stargate, had been produced and included in the hostage group.

No, in all likelihood SG-3 hadn't lived through the attack. At least that meant they wouldn't have been tortured for sport, as Trofsky had first claimed, before their bodies were sent back to the pyramid to be revived...

Makepeace needed confirmation on that sarcophagus, but he doubted anything useful on the subject could be extracted from these prisoners. Trofsky was too adversarial, and the rest looked like standard, rank and file Jaffa, the kind who honestly believed the Goa'uld were actual deities. Hell, even Trofsky seemed to accept Hathor's pretense to divinity. Makepeace was sure that none of them really believed that Hathor had died and wasn't coming back. Still, someone in the group might recognize a description of a sarcophagus. It was worth a shot.

He turned to Major Dunnston, who had been listening to the conversation and looked as sick as Makepeace felt. Obviously, another man with a painfully good imagination. "Keep Trofsky isolated, and question the rest of the prisoners. Check their stories for consistency about what happened to SG-3, and find out if Hathor really had a sarcophagus or not."

"Yes, sir," Dunnston said. He gestured to Mahoney.

Trofsky rammed a shoulder into the man, knocking him to the ground. Dodging out of another guard's reach, he shouted out, "Tell them nothing, brothers! Our goddess will reward us for loy--" He ended with a loud grunt as the business end of a staff weapon hit him in the gut, and he fell to his knees wheezing. Two guards gagged him, then picked him up and dragged him off to one side.

Their actions came too late, the damage had been done. The captive Jaffa took on mulish demeanors. Given their backgrounds, they probably expected a particularly brutal and ugly interrogation, and were preparing themselves accordingly. No amount of clever questioning, outright trickery, or even physical abuse was likely to get anything useful out of them now.

Makepeace turned away, disgusted more with himself than with Trofsky. He should have anticipated Trofsky's move; under similar circumstances, he knew he would have done the same thing. But no, he was too close to the situation, too damn rattled to think things through logically and dispassionately. He needed to step away, let Dunnston handle the interrogation.

Trofsky's outburst had attracted an audience that included General Hammond and Bra'tac. Makepeace noticed General Hammond staring at them and frowning. Wonderful. Might as well get the report, inconclusive as it was, over with. He walked over to Hammond and sketched out the pertinent and contradictory details of what Trofsky had told him, careful to keep his words calm and rational.

Looking deeply angry, Hammond asked, "Do you think there was a shred of truth in any of that?"

Makepeace shrugged and let out a tiny sigh. "I know my men were attacked, and that we haven't seen them since. Without bodies or some kind of independent verification of Trofsky's statements, there's no way to determine what really happened to them, General."

Bra'tac scowled in Trofsky's direction. "I will question the geraakdi myself," he announced, and abruptly strode off toward the prisoners.

That was the second time Makepeace had heard that word in reference to Trofsky. He really needed to ask someone what it meant. He dismissed that trivia from his mind and focused on the more pressing issue. "We need to check the Tok'ra tunnels and the surrounding woods for the bodies."

Hammond nodded. "We'll organize a search, Colonel."

"General, there's a chance Trofsky might have been telling the truth. It's slight, but...I'd like to take a small team and check out Hathor's pyramid, see if SG-3 was ever really there. With your permission, sir."

Hammond glanced at the dense smoke rising from the golden structure. Makepeace followed his gaze, and hastened to add, "Sir, I'll take every precaution. We'll keep away from unreasonably unsafe areas, but we can't wait until that fire burns itself out. The entire pyramid might become uninhabitable before that happens. If my team is in there, if they really were revived, I--we need to get them out."

Hammond let out a heavy breath. "I agree. This whole operation was meaningless if we don't try to bring all our people home. Those blueprints the Tok'ra gave us didn't map out all the details of the entire pyramid. I don't recall seeing a cell block or holding area. Do you want to try using one of the prisoners as a guide?"

Makepeace shook his head. "They're too unreliable. They'd probably lead us in circles, or to the most dangerous areas, out of simple revenge."

A feminine voice behind them spoke up. "I know my way around in there, at least some of the major areas, sirs."

Both men turned. Captain Carter stood there, looking determined. She said, "Request permission to tag along, sirs. If you need a willing guide, Colonel, I'm probably your best bet."

Makepeace rather doubted that. That pyramid was immense, significantly larger than the limited area that had been rigged to look like the SGC, and as Hathor's prisoner Carter would not have been allowed free run of the place. She probably knew as much as he did about its ins and outs. Maybe less, although to be honest that really wasn't a big issue. Problem was, she looked even paler than usual. He had put it down to the traumas she'd endured, and now worried that she might not hold out physically. "No offense, Captain, but you look like hell. Maybe you should head back to Earth with your team, get checked out in the infirmary."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not the only one around here who looks like hell."

Makepeace cocked his head with a crooked smile, acknowledging the hit. "You've been a prisoner for over three weeks."

"I'm fine, sir. Most of that time was spent, ah, cryogenically frozen." Makepeace and Hammond gave her disbelieving looks. She pressed on, "Really, after they revived us and we had some recovery time we were all fine. Hathor put a lot of effort into making us believe we were in friendly hands in that fake SGC. She didn't start getting rough until we figured out the whole thing was a trick. Physically, I'm in pretty good shape. Besides, I'd like to make sure that Doctor Raully got out okay."

"Raully?"

"She was the Tok'ra operative you told me about, Colonel. The one inside Hathor's operation who let the Tok'ra know where we were, and got you those blueprints and maps of the replica SGC. She's also the person who killed the Goa'uld that was implanted in Colonel O'Neill. When I found her, after I went back to blow the field generator, she was injured and lying against a wall. She told me where to find the generator. The colonel and I had to leave her behind. She's probably dead if she didn't make it out. But I'd like to be able to tell the Tok'ra what became of her, if I can. We owe them at least that much."

Pale or not, Carter appeared ready to argue the subject from now until doomsday. Makepeace had seen that look before. Just this very day, in fact, in the Tok'ra tunnels that honeycombed the area. He exchanged a glance with Hammond. The general nodded, and Makepeace once again gave in to her relentless determination. "All right, Captain," he said. "Welcome aboard. The more the merrier."

* * * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, a small but well-armed team composed of Colonel Makepeace, Captain Carter, Jordan and Haynes from SG-6, and a rebel Jaffa named Jerak headed toward Hathor's pyramid at brisk walk. Makepeace would have preferred to set a faster pace, but everyone except Jerak was already worn down. There was no sense pushing the troops so hard they'd be too tired to perform once they reached their objective. The few extra minutes to be gained weren't likely to make a difference. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.

Letting Haynes take point, Makepeace dropped back to the center of the group to check on Captain Carter. He was pleased to see that despite his earlier misgivings, she seemed to be handling the trek just fine. It was a pretty short jaunt--just a little over a kilometer--but they were moving at a good clip and he'd been concerned that she would be too exhausted to keep up. Instead, the exercise appeared to have done her some good. She wasn't winded, and the color had returned to her face.

"Doing okay, Captain?" he asked anyway.

"Doing fine, sir," she returned in a strong voice.

"Glad to hear it."

Carter said, "That's the second time you've questioned my physical condition. Do I really look that bad?"

"Not so much, anymore." Makepeace shrugged, jostling the rifle he carried slung over one shoulder. "But back at the Stargate, you looked pretty pale. In fact, with the exception of Teal'c, your whole team looked in pretty bad shape."

"I'm a blonde," she quipped. "People are always telling me I look pale."

He gave her an annoyed look. "Not that kind of pale. You're along against my better judgment, and I'd like a straight answer, if you don't mind. You looked a lot worse than you did in the tunnels. Did it all just catch up with you or what?"

"Don't worry, I won't pass out on you, sir, if that's what you're worried about." In fact, it was, but he didn't say anything. Carter stared straight ahead and said, "When I went back to blow the generator, I found Raully and Colonel O'Neill. Unfortunately, I also ran into Hathor. She ribboned me."

Makepeace winced. That explained a lot. "So, was it set to force-blast or brain-fry?"

She let out a delicate snort of laughter at his choice of words. "Brain-fry, I'm afraid."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. That's when Colonel O'Neill got the drop on Hathor, and threw her into a vat of cryogenic liquid. She really is dead, Colonel."

"I never doubted it." He paused, and added, "You should have said something."

She cocked a brow and maintained a straight face. "Then you and the general wouldn't have let me tag along, sir."

"Damn right, we wouldn't have," he said with disapproval. "General Hammond would have shipped you straight to the infirmary."

"You need me," she said. "Besides, I need to find out what happened to Raully. I had to come along. You don't know what she looks like."

Carter had a point about Raully, but sometimes she identified a little too closely with the Tok'ra for Makepeace's taste. It made him uncomfortable. He let out an exasperated sigh and chose not to pursue the issue. She'd just talk rings around him. Besides, there wasn't anything he could do about it, anyway, except reprimand her and order someone to take her back. He didn't want to do that to her, not after everything else she'd been through. Instead, he changed the subject to another mystery that had been bothering him. "Okay, Raully was the Tok'ra's inside operative. But I would like to know how the Tok'ra knew that my men and I were on 254. They were evasive on that point."

Carter pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I think I can answer that. Trofsky and Raully used a memory device on us." She touched her temple, where Makepeace saw a round impression. "Some kind of implant that projected our memories onto a holographic display. I believe that while Trofsky was questioning us and watching the trivia show, Raully must have been secretly accessing our knowledge about the SGC's mission schedules. She could have passed that information along to the Tok'ra."

"Sounds reasonable." Practical, too, he admitted privately, if a little on the creepy side. Make that a lot on the creepy side. It didn't make him feel any more comfortable about the Tok'ra, that was for sure. "Doesn't it bother you that she did something as intrusive as that without your consent?"

"She couldn't have asked us openly, sir. I think it was her only option, and I certainly can't complain about the end results. But I'm just guessing. The Tok'ra might have found you some other way."

Not a chance, Makepeace thought. Not unless they had a spy inside the SGC, and he didn't really believe they'd do anything like that. Not with Carter's old man blended with one of their leaders.

They walked along in silence. The towering fir trees around them obscured their view of the pyramid, although occasional openings in the heavy branches revealed a sky dark from the smoke. An acrid stench had become noticeable.

A terrible noise reverberated through the forest, a deep, drawn-out groan combined with a banshee's ear-splitting shriek. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and readied their weapons, looking about uncertainly.

The noise crescendoed. There came the sound of grinding, as of metal against metal, and a sudden, booming crash. Then all was quiet again.

"What the hell was that?" Jordan exclaimed.

"I think--I think it was the pyramid," Carter said, looking shocked. "Metal fatigue; catastrophic structural failure... I remember the explosion being bigger than I expected. Whatever the generator used for fuel must have been involved, or maybe some other kind of chemicals. The blast put a huge hole in one wall, and probably ripped up the interior pretty badly. All that damage plus the heat from the fire...the structure might be giving out."

Makepeace stared at her in horror. If there was even the slightest chance that his men were inside the pyramid, alive... He bolted out in front, ordering, "Double-time, people! Let's move it!"

The team reached Hathor's pyramid a few minutes later. It stood in the center of an enormous clearing, rising into the sky, a peak of gold glistening in the sunlight.

The damaged side had caved in on itself, twisting the entire pyramid out of shape. The two adjoining walls were buckled, deformed. Thick smoke churned out of the jagged hole created by the initial explosion, the ugly clouds highlighted from beneath by a flickering aurora of colors: green, orange, red, blue, and violet. An intense roaring could be heard, occasionally punctuated with crackles and whistles. Fine particles of ash drifted through the air, coating the ground and nearby vegetation.

The group stood at the edge of the forest, gaping. Even from this distance, Makepeace could feel the heat radiating off the pseudo-Egyptian structure. Ash and soot floated down and settled on everyone's clothes, hair, and skin. The stench was almost overpowering, and the kaleidoscopic glow emanating from the hole told Makepeace that the fire--or maybe something worse--was still blazing. Who knew what chemicals or forces were feeding it, generating those strange colors?

Someone asked, "Is that-- Is that a fire?"

Unnaturally quiet, Carter said, "Not a regular fire. Some kind of runaway plasma reaction, or maybe nuclear or naquada-fueled combustion..."

Makepeace stood in mute shock, staring at the disaster before him. Clearly, no one would be going inside to search for either survivors or casualties. The SGC wasn't equipped for this kind of thing. They'd have to wait for the fire to burn itself out, and for the structure to cool down.

The group was silent. Makepeace glanced around. Carter had turned pale again--as pale as the other men looked, as pale as he felt. Of the group, only Jerak appeared unmoved. Typical--damnable--Jaffa stoicism.

Makepeace turned his gaze back on the pyramid and prayed that Trofsky had been lying about his men. He couldn't bear the thought that they'd died in that inferno.

Carter said softly, "Colonel--sir, I'm so sorry."

He couldn't say anything yet, and just nodded.

She said, "I just... God, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I--I can't..." Her voice trailed away.

She wasn't making any sense, but she sounded like hell. He forced himself to ask, "What are you talking about, Captain?"

"I pushed the button. Your men, Doctor Raully... I killed them. I killed our own people."

So it hadn't just been her attachment to the Tok'ra that had driven her to come along. Makepeace stared at the pyramid and thought about his own part in this disaster. "It wasn't your fault, Carter."

"It was my idea to blow the generator in the first place," she said, persisting in her guilt and self-recrimination.

"I authorized it," Makepeace said bleakly.

That stopped her. "Sir?"

"In the tunnels. When you came up with the idea. I let you go with it." Makepeace finally met her eyes. "You're not to blame. None of us could have known the explosion would do this, and it doesn't matter. It had to be done, or we all would have ended up dead, or worse." He looked back at the pyramid. "As for my men, this trip was always a long shot. They probably weren't ever in there. Trofsky probably lied about that; he had reason." But you don't really know, do you? a nasty little voice whispered in the back of his mind.

"Yes, sir." Carter didn't sound convinced. "But what about Raully?"

"She might have escaped." His throat felt scratchy, and he coughed. He wondered how toxic the smoke might be. They needed to get back to business and get out of here. Mourning and self-castigation would have to be postponed.

He moved forward and faced the group. "All right, listen up, people. Obviously, we're not going inside the pyramid. However, there might be survivors in the surrounding area, people who escaped before things got too bad inside." He coughed again, noticed the others having trouble breathing as well, and added, "This smoke and ash aren't doing our lungs any favors, so let's do this quickly and efficiently and get the hell out of here. Jordan and Jerak will search the left side of the forest around the pyramid. The rest of us will take the right. We'll circle around and meet on the opposite side of this clearing. Anyone locates any traces of survivors, like tracks or personal items, report in immediately. Everyone got it?"

The humans bobbed their heads. Jerak grunted his acknowledgment.

Makepeace said, "Remember, folks, this pyramid was crewed by Hathor's Jaffa, so be on the lookout for hostiles as well as our own people. Keep out of sight, stay alert, and signal any trouble. Now let's move."

As if in response to his order, the earth rumbled underfoot. The pyramid shifted and sank a few feet into the ground with a sudden boom. Clouds of dust rose around its base as it settled into the shallow sinkhole.

"What the hell?" said Haynes.

"The Tok'ra tunnels under the pyramid must be collapsing," said Carter. "We'd better hurry."

* * * * * * *

It was a dispirited group that finally trudged back toward the Stargate. No trace of any survivors had been found in the vicinity around Hathor's pyramid--no people, no bodies, no litter or footprints. Nothing. If anyone else had gotten out, they had to have used the Tok'ra tunnels, and the pyramid had made them inaccessible to the search party.

In spite of his own gloom, Makepeace tried to keep the pace up, to put as much distance between the group and the pyramid as quickly as possible. It was still giving off smoke and light from that hole in its side, and Makepeace hadn't wanted to stick around. Who knew what the damned thing would do next? Burn itself out, or explode, or sink to the center of the planet.

None of those things had happened by the time they reached the Stargate. It was just as well the pyramid hadn't self-destructed. Makepeace rather hoped that Earth could salvage something of value from the Goa'uld technology, but the longer that fire burned the less likely a positive outcome became. Even the weapons' pylons had been damaged, when Teal'c and General Hammond had blasted them with that strange death glider. Not that he was going to complain, since that attack had helped keep everyone alive. Besides, maybe some of the mechanisms had survived. The way those things had magically popped out of the ground ought to keep the physicists and engineers busy for years.

Things had changed around the Stargate in the hours his group had been at the pyramid. Teal'c's death glider had been removed. Hammond, O'Neill, Jackson, and most of the original assault force were gone, had probably headed back to Earth. Makepeace saw a lot of fresh faces, many of whom he recognized as SF's from the base. He also saw some of the SGC's staff engineers clustered around the pylons' bases with an assortment of equipment.

He hoped they got something useful out of those towers. The weapons turrets and the energy shield had cost the Earth teams dearly. Why hadn't the Tok'ra spy, Raully, included mention of them in her blueprints and notes? Advance knowledge of those armaments would have made a huge difference. Certainly he and Hammond would have made radically different attack plans and strategies.

He sighed. Perhaps Raully simply hadn't known about them. It seemed odd, though, considering her apparent knowledge of the details about the faked SGC. And Carter had mentioned that Raully had told her how to find the field generator, so obviously the Tok'ra woman knew a great deal about Hathor's setup. He couldn't understand why she had excluded such crucial information from the plans she had sent to the SGC. Then again, he doubted he'd ever understand the Tok'ras' thought processes. When you got down to brass tacks, they were just as alien as their nasty cousins, the Goa'uld. They had their own agendas.

He noticed that Bra'tac and all but one of his rebels were missing from the area. So were the prisoners. Makepeace wondered if Trofsky and company were even still alive. Guerrilla fighters on Earth were notoriously brutal and ruthless with their enemies, and Makepeace doubted that Bra'tac's rebels were much different.

Jerak left the humans and joined the remaining rebel. They spoke a few words, then dialed the DHD and left through the Stargate. Teal'c and Captain Mellanby from Security came forward. Mellanby scanned the rest of the ash-covered group. "You didn't find anyone, Colonel?"

The question was obviously rhetorical, but Makepeace answered anyway. "No. The pyramid's still burning, and the tunnels underneath are collapsing. There's no way to get inside, and there were no traces of survivors in the nearby area."

"We'll keep looking, sir. I'll get another search party organized to check the outlying areas and the accessible parts of the Tok'ra tunnels."

"Thanks." Makepeace added, "Be careful in those tunnels. There's no telling how they've been affected by what's happening at the pyramid."

Carter said, "There might be toxic fumes down there. Also, the structural materials might have been damaged by the heat and multiple concussions."

"We'll stay on our toes," said Mellanby. He and Teal'c exchanged a glance.

"You two have something else to say?" Makepeace asked.

Mellanby nodded. Teal'c said, "Captain Carter, Colonel Makepeace, General Hammond left orders that you return to Earth immediately."

Makepeace rubbed his face, smearing the grime, ash, and perspiration. He stared at the muddy mess on his hand. "Figures. Debriefings and screenings. God."

Teal'c said, "The general has your best interests in mind. You are both in need of rest, and Captain Carter requires medical attention after her ordeal as Hathor's prisoner."

"Fine. Take Carter back. I'll follow in a bit."

"General Hammond specifically said you both were to return."

"I will." Makepeace stared back at the smoke cloud from the pyramid. "I just need to find Bra'tac and ask him a few questions. He hasn't left the planet already, has he?"

Mellanby and Teal'c exchanged another look. Mellanby looked unhappy, Teal'c stoic.

Makepeace sighed, feeling a lead weight settle in his gut. "What is it this time? Spill it."

Mellanby said, "Sir, Bra'tac did leave word for you before he departed. His interrogation of the prisoners was inconclusive. I'm sorry, sir, there's no new information available regarding your men."

Makepeace felt the last of his energy leave him. "That's not unexpected," he said, a little numbly.

"Maybe we'll find something when the pyramid cools down."

Not a chance, Makepeace thought. He knew he ought to ask about the prisoners, find out if they were still alive, if Area 51 would get a crack at them. He didn't. If Bra'tac's people had killed them during the interrogation, Makepeace didn't want to know about it. At least, not just yet. If Trofsky and his men were alive, Hammond would be quick enough to offer details.

"There is nothing more to tell," said Teal'c. "This area is secured. We should return to Earth now." He sounded implacable.

Another small boom rattled the earth and trees. The acrid stink in the air grew stronger. Makepeace didn't want to leave; he felt a strong but inexplicable sense that he was leaving something undone, that something was still incomplete. Something was missing.

Closure. That was it. There wasn't any. At least, not for him.

He glanced at Carter. Although she looked like she was about to fall over, it was obvious Teal'c wouldn't leave without both of them.

He was forced to admit there was nothing else he could do. His men were gone, and hanging around here wouldn't change that fact.

"Fine, let's go," he said.

*** end ***

Written April, 2004

Revised and Posted September, 2008