Originally posted on on 08-18-10

Grammarly update on 02-06-16

Disclaimer: Stargate – SG1 belongs to MGM. So do Marty and Lanty. The story is mine. Do not publish without asking me.

Warning: Dark like a black hole. Angst. OOC. If you think the Tok'Ra is the best thing since sliced bread, you probably shouldn't read this. Character death. (It's D&C peeps!).

Spoilers: Divide and Conquer.

A/N: Was getting a timeline for my mega-multi crossover universe ready and this one was stuck in my brain as I was trying to align SG-1 with Torchwood and Terminator.

strongLast Stand./strong

You were a doctor once. You were a scientist. True, most would say that what you called science was only a decade short of leeches, but it was something you knew and was good at. Something that made you grow and challenged you.

Then THEY came. Wounded. Dying. Running.

You saw a chance for something bigger. Something much grander than other people's petty woes and hypochondria. At least, that was how you saw it at the time. A chance to REALLY make a difference. So when one of them DID die, you grabbed the chance to help with both hands and didn't dare to look back.

Even when they marginalised your knowledge, little as it was, in favour of that of your Other. The one you saved with your choice.

Oh, they were grateful, very much so, but somewhere along the line, you realised you didn't really matter to them. You were a necessary evil.

You tried to learn. To upgrade what you knew only to get shot down. You got used to hearing "You wouldn't understand" and "It's beyond your grasp of understanding" more than once. And slowly you just gave up and allowed the Other to take over most of the time. You stagnated.

You still don't know what hurt the most: To be dismissed as unimportant or that your Other either didn't notice or didn't care. You suspect it's the later. After all, you're just a necessary evil in the grand scheme of things.

Then you meet Her. The Other found a mate. And so did you, against all odds as it were. You loved her. Not her Other, but Her. And she loved you back. And for a while, you felt like you mattered. But ultimately you lost her. Your Other lost his mate as well, but to you it was inconsequential even as the rest of Them seems to mourn His mate more than yours, seemingly not understanding that He had simply lost a breeding opportunity, you had lost the world. But you were still just a necessary evil.

Then you seemed, in a roundabout way, to get Her back as the Taurii found you. You learned of Her demise in a foreign world at the hands of an Ash'rak. Of how her Other had abandoned Her in favour of a then healthy host, and then another as that one died at the hands of the same Ash'rak. And a terrible suspicion made itself know. For the first time in decades, you started to wonder. You shook off your mental fatigue and started speculating. What if….

Your Other never truly suspected a thing. It is, after all, possible to keep secrets even in the bond between symbiot (parasite?) and host if one wants it enough. Oh, your Other suspected a secret. Even started to take over more. Hidden. Without the telltale signs. Your Other claimed it was for the best since you didn't have the necessary knowledge, knowledge you were never encouraged to seek out, to handle the Taurii effectively. You can count on a hand the number of times you were permitted to interact with Samantha without your Other interfering, hidden or otherwise. It just provided more evidence to your own suspicions.

And as the length of time between your possibilities to claim your body for your own and really interact with others grew larger, so did your suspicions. You rarely saw the other hosts interact as themselves, learning the little quirks that betrayed the Others even as they tried to hide their possessions. And you grew more and more alarmed. There are, after all, many types of slavery and this seemed to be just another one, for all their claims of only having voluntary hosts. But then again, it's less of a fight if the slave thinks there is a choice.

And then you heard about this. You remember the whispers in the upper echelons. The talks. Talks you are fairly certain you would not remember if They thought you a real threat. That you were something else than a convenient host body. About the Taurii and a growing need for hosts. About the restrictions on how the Taurii choose said hosts. And a concern that the Taurii would pull out of the fight against Ghoa'uld now that they were among the protected planets. You snorted inwardly when you heard that one. If anyone had cared to ask you, you would tell them that if O'Neill and the rest of the SG-teams were typical of the Taurii, then they wouldn't bow out of the fight. They trust the Treaty even less than they trust the Ghoa'uld. And that was saying something. But they didn't ask. Their loss. Their arrogant loss.

They finally agreed on a plan, you would call suicidal. One that also convinced you that your hidden concerns were true. After all, they were not sacrificing your Other, just you. Apparently the Hosts were an acceptable loss and not worth asking. And if it was pulled through effectively enough, the Taurii would have one hell of a reason to go after the Systemlords with a vengeance and would probably even to supply the Tok'Ra with more host with fewer restrictions than before. And silently you made a vow to make their plan go as awry as possible.

So you studied your memories, your predecessors memories and what you were capable of gleaning from your Other. And while you did, in the outside world, the first part of Their plan went off without a hitch as an SG team got caught and altered. You wish you could have saved them, but you could not even save yourself. And finally, you found the knowledge to royally fuck up the Plan. You would still die, but you would drag your Other along for the ride.

The Taurii unknowingly help you and you giggle almost insanely inwardly as the fake president makes his entrance. Your Other never bothered to remember details about the Taurii, seeing them more as cannon fodder than anything else, uneducated, unskilled and foolish, but you did. And that's most definitely NOT the President. But you remain silent. It's not your time yet. And then suddenly it is. Per'Sus and the others were right in thinking that SG-1 would be the ones closest to you as your Other strikes. It's not O'Neill, it's not the "President" but it's Jackson and he's a good enough pawn for Their plan to work. If it's executed perfectly. But as your Other starts to raise his weapon, you start to fight back. Jackson will not be a Host today. And the Zat in Samanthas hands makes the rest of THIS part moot.

But it's not over yet. Not completely. Now for your final stand. Your Other can still take a new host and this will have to be prevented or your sacrifice is in vain.

*What are you doing?* Your Other demands as you force your own will on His wormlike body. Who knew that the Control went two-ways? The Tok'Ra certainly didn't seem to think so. *This is not in our plan!*

*Your plan, not mine. I never agreed to enslave the Taurii for the gains of the Tok'Ra. I never agreed to die.* You fire back as you fight to keep It back, keep It from jumping into the nearest able-bodied host, this time poor Samantha whom your Other was wooing only hours before, fight to keep control for those precious few seconds it will take before the worm is too weak to leave your body.

*I must survive! I must take one of them and keep them loyal to the fight! The Systemlords must be destroyed!* Your Other is getting desperate and you know you are winning.

You feel the Threshold being met and crossed. Your heart stutters, once, twice as your Other is no longer capable of sustaining it, never the less Itself.

This is the reason why the Others always leaves the body while it's still sustaining itself. Their own biology, their own instinct forces them to keep fighting to keep the host alive even when it's not possible anymore. And by then it's too late for Them as well. They are caught in the dying body.

You have the strength to send one last burst of disgust towards your Other, your utter abhorrence of His, and the Others, hubris, Their utter arrogance of knowing what is best for the rest of the Universe. Of their more hidden slavery, but still slavery, of their hosts.

*Once a Ghoa'uld, always a Ghoa'uld, eh Lantesh?*

Darkness beckons you now. You know that your body is long dead and that your brain is finally shutting down as it runs out of oxygen. And finally, you let go.

The Plan has failed.

The Taurii won't have a Tok'Ra spy nested in their middle, needling them into battles of the Tok'ras choosing, manipulating them according to hidden plans. And they will hopefully be even leerier of the Tok'Ra now than before. You have had no chance of truly warning them after all.

As darkness claims you Lantesh howls at you in rage? Loss?.

You no longer care as you realise that

You

Are

Free.