The man looked down at the weapon, grunted, and threw the thing like a javelin. It hit a Chulak dead on, knocking him down.
Whatever worked. O’Neill patted the man on the arm. “Good!”
In the Gate room, Carter herded refugees to the bottom of the ramp, fending off armed security’s unwavering rifles and answering Hammond’s unwavering questions. Both captain and general glanced anxiously, repeatedly, at each new arrival through the Gate.
The last of the refugees, except the primitive who had taken up arms—or rocks—had passed through the Gate. “That’s it!” Daniel yelled.
“You go!” O’Neill was still firing.
Jackson gave him a long look and then stepped through.
“Casey, Warren! Go!”
Casey and Warren fired their last shots and turned to run for the Gate. They were almost there when Casey fell with a cry right beside the control panel. Warren stopped to help him.
“Warren! Leave him!”
Anguished, Warren obeyed.
One of the Chulak warriors managed to evade fire and make it to the control panel, within touching distance of Kawalsky. O’Neill caught sight of him as the alien started to place his hand on the controls, and aimed.
The primitive beside him snarled and rushed, taking the warrior around the waist. The alien screamed as ribs snapped.
“Cover me!” Kawalsky yelled, and rose to his feet to race for Casey.
Something white hissed from the Serpent Guard as he died under the primitive’s savage embrace. Kawalsky shuddered but moved, picking up the wounded man, and ran for the Gate.
The primitive dropped the dead warrior and raised his fists to the sky, screaming in triumph and revenge. As he did so, a dozen energy bolts converged on him.
O’Neill and Teal’c realized that they were the last ones left. Covering each other, firing frantically, they dove through the Stargate.
“Now!” Carter screamed. “Lock it up!” The iris closed, scissoring the head of a Chulak who had followed too close. The serpent helmet dropped onto the ramp, rolling between O’Neill and Teal’c. A wave of delirious refugees surrounded the colonel, weeping, hugging him. Teal’c remained at the top of the ramp alone.
“Colonel O’Neill,” Hammond said in measured tones, studying the renegade Serpent Guard, “care to explain?”
“We can use the Stargate to send them home,” Carter spoke up, referring to the refugees.
“What’s he doing here?” The general was not to be swayed by distractions.
“This,” panted the colonel, “is Teal’c. He can help us.”
Hammond had recognized the former commander. “Do you know what he is, Colonel?”
O’Neill drew a deep breath and looked his commanding officer square in the eye. “Yes, sir. He’s the man who saved our lives. And if you accept my recommendation, he’ll join SG-1.”
To give Hammond credit, he did not recommend O’Neill for a Section Eight then and there. Instead he said in measured tones, “That decision may not be up to you.”
The tension of the moment was broken by a team of medics rushing in. Kawalsky stole a moment from the CPR he was rendering to Casey. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”
As the medics moved in, Kawalsky stepped back. O’Neill and Hammond, having declared a temporary truce, went down the ramp.
Kawalsky winced suddenly, slumping against the wall, rolling his head. Then he straightened up again as if nothing had happened.
One of the medics looked up at the general, shaking his head, as the others kept going: “One, two, three, four, five! One, two, three, four, five!”
“Keep trying!” Warren beseeched them.
Hammond took his arm. “He’s gone, son.”
The medics lay Casey on a stretcher, covering his face with a sheet, and Warren broke down in sobs.
“Major Kawalsky?” Hammond went on.
Kawalsky stepped away from the wall. “Sir!”
“Colonel O’Neill, Major Kawalsky, the sure-to-be-very-interesting debriefing for SG units one and two will be at 0730.”
“Yes, sir,” Kawalsky and O’Neill chorused.
Samuels stepped forward, clapping his hands for attention. “All right. Let’s work on getting these people home where they belong.”
O’Neill studied his fellow team leader. “Kawalsky… you okay?”
Kawalsky nodded. O’Neill decided to leave the other man alone; everyone reacted differently to the letdown after battle. If Kawalsky wanted to be left alone, fine.
Daniel Jackson was finding loneliness hard to bear. O’Neill shared the feeling, moving to stand beside him as he stared at the Stargate.
“She’s out there somewhere, Jack,” the young man said.
“I know she is,” O’Neill said softly. “So’s Skaara.”
“What do we do?” he said miserably.
“Find them,” came the answer, inflexible, determined. He slapped the other man on the shoulder.
The refugees lined up to pass on their knowledge of their home coordinates to the technicians, and Carter and Teal’c joined O’Neill and Jackson to watch the operation of the Stargate, the alien technology within human reach but as yet outside their grasp. It represented endless new possibilities, new adventures, new hope.
Behind them Kawalsky watched too as the gate shimmered and refocused. And he too saw new possibilities…
…with eyes that glowed.
Scanning, formatting and basic
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