They are dead.

They are dead because I failed them. I should have perceived the danger, swayed them from this path. Why did I not listen to my instincts? Why did I not voice my doubts? Three humans and one Jaffa against three Jaffa and one system lord are not good odds. I should have said no but I remained silent. Why did I not speak? I kept my counsel because I dared to let myself believe. There is something about the Tau'ri, something that stirs my imagination and my soul. On the surface they are so laughably primitive, so incredibly naïve. Yet beneath that benign exterior there rests an unfathomable spirit. A will to fight, a loyalty to their planet and to others that is unmatched in the universe.

It was the brief glimpse of that will that rekindled forgotten hope in my very soul. That tiny flicker of defiance, those two words uttered so harshly, so desperately, in that cell that fueled the tiny, battered sliver of hope that I'd struggled to keep alight.

I followed my instincts that day, and did not regret my decision. I ignored my instincts today, tamping them down in favor of Daniel Jackson's hopeful plan. And for that my friends have paid the ultimate price.

Captain Carter had been skeptical. I should have listened to her. Now I never will again. I spare her a brief glance. Her body lies as it fell, smoke still rising from the gaping wound in her belly. It is the same with Daniel Jackson and O'Neill.

The cloying, acrid odor of burnt flesh fills my nostrils. It is a smell I know well, however this is the first time in many years that I have smelled it from a friend's body. Giving into the anger I fire my staff weapon at their murderer, although I see that it is a wasted effort. I must do something, anything. If they must die they can not die in vain.

"Teal'c. Jaffa Sholva!" Apophis spits, looking smugly at me from behind his shield. When did he acquire such technology? It has only been a few months, how could he have gotten this without my knowledge? I believed that I was privy to all his plans, perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he suspected my true feelings months, years ago? Was I too conceited in my belief that I had fooled him? Now my new friends will pay the price for my arrogance.

I have failed them, failed in my pledge to aid and protect them. I am not worthy of a warrior's death. Lowering my staff weapon I simply stand before Apophis in a last tiny gesture of defiance. He will have to murder me like he murdered my friends. "Dal shaka mel," I growl at him, surprised at the emotion in my voice. "I die free."

I die free of him, free of his perversions and degradations. I die knowing that with the help of O'Neill and the Tau'ri I did save a few lives. Not nearly enough to atone for all the atrocities I have committed over the years, but at least I tried. There will be no paradise for me, I will die. He will take my body back to Chulak, place my head on a pike for all to see. I will serve, as a warning for any that would dare to oppose a god. Drey'ac and Ry'ac, if they still live, will be forced to come and stand before it so that all can know that they are the family of a traitor. Then they will be banished, exiled from all, left to survive on their own. Ry'ac will forever bear the stain of his father's betrayal, as I have mine. 'Forgive me,' I beg them. 'Forgive me.'

I see his fingers tighten on the firing mechanism and I steel myself, fighting the urge to close my eyes.
If I can do nothing else to honor my fallen comrades I will die as they did, as a proud warrior.

The air waves and shimmers and I stare in amazement as Apophis roars his frustration, apparently not able to see me. What magic is this?

Three forms appear from nothing and go to my friends. What are they doing? I raise my weapon to defend them, but stay my actions. My instincts tell me that these creatures mean no harm.

"What are you doing?" I demand of one of them, the leader I believe. He gives me a sad look and pushes past me, carrying O'Neill effortlessly. "Where are you taking them?" The female of the group reaches out a comforting hand, then also proceeds past me bearing the limp form of Captain Carter. "Why did you save me?" I demand of the last man, the oldest looking of the group. He brushes Daniel Jackson's long hair off his face and picks him up with a strength that belies his slight stature.

They walk away and I hurry to follow. We travel for some time, picking a path they seem to see through the forest. When we reach a tiny clutch of dwellings they enter the largest, each gently lying my friends' bodies down on primitive beds. They fuss over them, picking at the bloody wounds on their bodies. I watch them silently disarm my friends, even finding the small knives both Captain Carter and O'Neill have secreted in their boots. Part of me bristles at this desecration but I do not comment. The eldest stands before me, his hands held out. Wordlessly I hand him my staff weapon. He takes it and oddly enough I do not care that I am now defenseless. He leaves with it and in a few moments all three of them come back and stand over us. I am seated on one of the beds, staring at the corpses of my friends. Is this their punishment? To have me see nothing but their bodies. They should know the sight of them falling would haunt me forever. I feel a chill run through me as I remember Captain Carter's panicked 'Colonel!' ringing through the air. I can still hear the pained grunts and cries as they fell. These aliens need not punish me; I will never forget what I have done.

I look up at them, unashamed of the tears that are streaming down my face. I do not see acrimony or hate in their eyes, rather compassion. "Help me?" I beg them, my voice harsh and rough. "Help me…please."

They look at each other and the leader nods. I watch them stand over O'Neill, their hands raised curiously. What are they doing? They're not helping them. I start to stand and feel a small hand on my leg. I look over and see a child standing beside me. With a shake of his head and a gentle shove, he bids me to stay seated.

Nodding my assent, I do as he says. After a few moments the creatures move from O'Neill and stand over Captain Carter.

The boy now takes my hand in his tiny one and pulls me forward. I follow and he takes me to O'Neill. Yes child, he is dead, I know that.

As if he can read my mind he shakes his head and guides my hand to O'Neill's back. Amazed, I can do nothing but touch it. There is no wound, no blood. His flesh is warm and whole. Shocked I turn to the child to see him smiling warmly. Still needing proof I put my hand by O'Neill's mouth and feel his warm breath caress my fingertips. Alive. He is alive.

The creatures leave Captain Carter and move onto Daniel Jackson, and I follow. As with O'Neill, her wound is gone, her belly flat and whole, the charred whole in her clothing the only sign of them being shot. Laying my fingers at her throat I can feel the steady thrum of blood through her veins. How is this possible? They died. I saw it with my own eyes.

They move away from Daniel Jackson and I check him also. Like the others, he is alive, apparently asleep.
Looking tired, the two men leave and the female approaches me. She holds out her hand and takes the child to her side with a soft smile. "Thank you," I whisper to her.

With a compassionate look she reaches out her hand, wiping the tears from my cheek. She holds her hand over my pouch, a questioning look on her face. "It is not a wound. It is part of me," I tell her. With a sad nod she turns and leaves, taking the child with her.

I turn back to my friends. I can not fight the urge to check each of them again. Reassured that they still live, I seat myself on the floor by the door. They are defenseless at the moment and I must do all I can to protect them. I settle into a light state of meditation, my ears picking up the miniscule sounds of their breathing.

Some how, some way, I have been given a second chance. I failed them once; I will not fail them again.

~Fin~

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