It's been quite a while, but Season Two of SGD is finally here. I've got the first set of chapters mostly done and lined up for release. Originally, they were to be released all at once, but time constraints prevented that. For many readers, this format will probably be better anyway.

Season Two will revolve around the Ori, but take a much different approach than canon. It will be Darker and Edgier, but not Darker and Stupider. The episodic format is gone, though the chapter naming scheme persists. The universe will be filled in and fleshed out with short Snapshots that accompany each chapter. Content wise, expect to see some old friends and some old enemies, as well as new ones. There will be larger military operations and a more focused storyline overall. The Wraith domination of Pegasus will play a part, as will the power vacuum in the Milky Way.

A Snapshot will accompany each chapter, feel free to skip it if you must but you will miss some things that may or may not be important.

SGD Snapshots #1: The New Guy

Nervously, Second Lieutenant (Sotvan dovom) Khaled al-Rashid shuffled through the crowd. The room was not overly large, but could fit the sixty or so men and women comfortably. Though it was not hot in the underground facility, he sweated profusely. Out of the five hundred and forty-five thousand men in the Iranian military, he was the one who had been selected. He wasn't sure why- he was a lowly Second Lieutenant, with reasonable, but not outstanding, proficiency. But he was fiercely loyal to his country and his religion, and perhaps that meant something.

"Hey, watch it!" an accented voice hissed, and he turned to stare straight into the face of a tall, muscular woman with a Russian flag patch on her shoulder. She was dressed in a way that did not appeal to Khaled's Islamic ideals- the same camo fatigues that the men wore. Still, it could have been worse. But a woman in the force that was supposedly Earth's first line of defence against extraterrestrial threats just rubbed him the wrong way.

He quickly looked away, hoping that the woman did not notice his disapproving gaze. She had, of course, analyzed him in much the same way, and decided that she did not like him, but for different reasons. Instinctively, he scratched his beard as he turned his head to the low stage in the front of the room. Sadly, a large man whose nationality he could not identify blocked his view.

"Officers and enlisted personnel of Earth's armed forces," a female voice announced. Poking his head through the crowd, Khaled realized that the speaker was in fact Lieutenant Colonel Carter. She stood at the front of the room, clad in full armour, except for the helmet. She was quite beautiful- Khaled quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind. She was in an inappropriate position, wearing inappropriate clothing, doing inappropriate things. "Welcome to the Allied Earth Space Forces."

She smiled. It was a dazzling smile. Khaled couldn't stop looking- you didn't see many beautiful women in Iran, and the military was even worse. "Look around you. You are among the elite, the best of the best. Men and women handpicked from militaries around the world for skill, courage, and determination. As part of the AESF, you will be on the frontline, fighting against Earth's enemies.

"Diversity has always been one of humanities strengths, and it is one of the AESF's goals to foster this diversity. We strive to mix race, gender and nationality as much as possible..." Khaled couldn't stand the blasphemy any more, and tuned it out, attempting to ponder the Koran. He found it was impossible to do for long. Her words were very powerful.

"...will not be easy. The enemies we know are powerful and dedicated to either destroying or enslaving us. Though many are gone, some remain, and new ones appear every day. Everyone must contribute their very best.

"It is not just about the United States, or Russia, or China, or Great Britain, or whatever country you may be from. We fight for Earth, we fight for humanity. I cannot stress that enough. From this point forward, your first loyalty is to Earth. If you cannot abide by that, you may leave now. No one in this room will think any lesser of you for doing so." Which was a lie, of course.

Finally, she finished her long-winded speech. "If there are no questions, the officers to your right will now assign your positions."

Second Lieutenant Khaled al-Rashid meandered toward the plastic tables set up to the side of the room. He lined up behind several other soldiers. When he realized the front of the line, a tough-looking lady with brown hair in a ponytail handed him a card. She told him in a strangely accented voice, "SG-114, under the command of Captain Roberts. Don't worry, she's better than you might think."

She?

SGD 2x01 Commemoration

March 20, 2005
Washington Convention Centre, Washington DC

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the people you've been waiting for all day, the heroes who have saved Earth too many times to count, SG-1!"

SG-1, clad in full armour, walked out onto the stage before cheering and waving crowds. Teal'c moved much the same way he always did, Daniel smiled, and Sam waved. They lined up in a row beside Generals O'Neill and Hammond (who had already delivered speeches), and the MC of the evening, all in front of a giant projection screen showing the planet Earth slowly rotating. The entire facility was packed tight, with everyone wanting to see the heroes of Earth in person and if they were lucky, get to meet them. The various displays of adapted offworld technology and the AESF in general largely went unnoticed.

The host went to each of the members and introduced them one by one, shaking their hands as he did so.

"Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, current leader of SG-1, resident brainiac, and if might I add, stunningly beautiful."

"Doctor Daniel Jackson, who I'm sure we all thought was insane, but it turned out he was right."

"Teal'c, of Chulak. On behalf of the people of Earth, I welcome you and sincerely hope you come in peace."

"Now of course, I'm sure you've all seen Star Trek, but these people have done it for real. And that is just incredible. When I first found out about the stargate, to be honest, I thought people were jerking me around. Then the aliens showed up.

"That was a tragic day, a day not to be forgotten, and most importantly, a year ago to this day. We've all felt the impact, we've all lost something to it. But it is important now more than ever to look forward to what we can do, what we can become, what the future holds for us.

"Were it not for that alien attack I would not be here delivering this speech. Transporters, warp drive, phasers, these are all in reach of us now. War among countries, global warming, poverty, they will all become things of the past. We pulled together as humans of Earth, fought for our freedom and survival as humans of Earth, and will be united as humans of Earth!

"I'm sure everyone has seen The Fight for Freedom, if not, you can pick up a free tape or DVD on your way out. That's what these people go through every day, to protect Earth, to protect the galaxy from slavery and oppression. So on the behalf of those of us too scared to go out and fight, thank you.

"As much as I'd like to go on, I think there's someone infinitely more qualified to do it. Without further ado, the President of the United States of America Henry Hayes!"

President Hayes waved to the massive crowd, taking the lectern from the MC. Behind him, the Earth disappeared, being replaced by the Presidential seal. "Thank you, thank you. When I first found out about the stargate, I was blown away. I never thought that such a thing could exist. Only a few short months later, I was in charge of the biggest fight in our brief existence.

"It's been a monumental year. We've fought against things only imagined and won. We've discovered things that we never thought possible. Technological and scientific progress has jumped forward decades if not centuries."

The image changed to an egg-shaped object floating in space above Earth. "I give my heartfelt thanks to those that were involved with Abydos station. They've been rushing to get it finished for this occasion, and succeeded with aplomb. Coupled with the DTCS satellite network, it will provide defensive coverage for our world, in addition to detection and telecommunications satellites. Think of it as a Hubble Space Telescope, a Telsat, and an orbital Super-MAC all in one."

The space station disappeared, being replaced with a much less impressive industrial building, a bit like a nuclear power plant with a large dome dominating the complex. "Experimental Exotic Generating Station Unit One in Colorado. EEGSUO, or, as the engineers call it, Naq One. The first of many power plants meant to solve our energy crisis. A clean, safe, dependable source of power, this is the future. It's coming online as we speak."

The building began to light up, and the crowd clapped in response. After they settled down, the President continued. "This is only the first of many. More units are being built all over the world. Soon our dependence on fossil fuels will be a thing of the past. Electric cars, maybe even hovercars, will become the norm, not the exception. We're heading fast into the future."

What appeared to be a military force of tanks and soldiers replaced the industrial building. "Now, I'm no expert on military matters, though I've been learning a lot since my inauguration. This is the First Offworld Combat Division. It is a mechanized combined forces division with a strength of eight thousand of the best men and women this planet has to offer. I must stress that the primary goal is to protect Earth, not invade sovereign nations. I must also stress that it is small, but is only the first of many."

With a tap on a hidden button, a new image of a long, broad starship appeared. "Our new space carrier. She's nearly two kilometres in length and as broad as a Daedalus class is long. She can carry hundreds of fighters or thousands of troops, and reach anywhere in the galaxy in a few days. To complement her, the Stargate Alliance is also stepping up production of the Daedalus and Athena class. And I'm sure General O'Neill will love the name. She is to be christened the AES Enterprise CV-1701."

"Perfect."

"I know what a lot of you are thinking. The goa'uld are gone, the war is over."

For emphasis, the President shook his head. "I'm sorry to say that although our greatest enemy has been defeated, the fight is far from over. The defeat of Ba'al has left a power vacuum, and there are a great many powers looking to take his place. Many of them represent a threat to us. We must keep the peace and protect those who can't protect themselves, in this galaxy and also in Pegasus. The Wraith are still out there, and although we are safe for the moment, many are not."

"One last thing before I go. This is not a purely American endeavour anymore. The Stargate Alliance is a multinational-"

"GUN!" someone shouted. Several things happened at once. Three men in the crowd drew MAC-10 submachine guns and began firing at the stage. Two Secret Service agents attempted to draw their own weapons, but were cut down by the machine gun fire. Colonel Carter immediately leaped for General O'Neill, knocking him down and shielding him with her armoured body. Both the MC and General Hammond were hit and lay on the floor. The President ducked behind the reinforced lectern as the attackers continued to rake the stage, crowds fleeing around them.

"Isn't this supposed to be shielded?" Daniel asked. He was beside Teal'c, taking cover on the edge of the stage. "And where are the Secret Service agents?"

"I don't know, someone must have tampered with our systems," Carter replied, wincing as another bullet slammed into her armour. She jumped to her feet and half-dragged O'Neill to cover, shielding him as best she could. More bullets hit her armour, and she activated her shields as soon as they were behind the side wall. Or tried to. The characteristic hum and brief aura failed to materialize, and she couldn't tell what was wrong without her helmet and its built in HUD.

General O'Neill handed her a small pocket pistol. "You'll want this. I'm going to try to get help."

"Good luck, sir," Carter said as he left through the side door. "They have to pause to reload, as soon as they do grab the President and General Hammond."

Sure enough, the first terrorist's gun clicked back on an empty bolt. As he dropped out the magazine to reload, Carter jumped out from behind cover and fired at him. The Kel-Tec P-32 was awkward, with almost nonexistent sights and a trigger guard she could barely get her gloved finger through. Her first two shots missed, but her third and fourth hit the man in his legs, sending him to the cround.

As Daniel led the President away and Teal'c carried General Hammond, she continued firing, switching to one of the others. One of her shots connected, only to be stopped by a ballistic vest. The two remaining terrorists focused their efforts on her, and she dove for one of the dead Secret Service agents. Bullets slammed into her shields as she picked up a much more usable SIG Sauer P229. Even as she levelled it at the second terrorist and pulled the trigger sending a .357 round into the man's brain, the third began running.

"Stay here, I'm going after him!" Carter shouted, jumping off the stage and running after him. By this time the crowds were all but gone, disappearing through the exit and making life for the remaining security a nightmare. The terrorist ran into the middle of the crowd. Panicking and realizing that there was no way that he could go up against the armoured woman, he did what any self-respecting terrorist would do. He grabbed the nearest person, a woman in her mid-twenties, and held his gun to her head.

"Let her go," Carter ordered, levelling her gun at him. "Drop it, now!"

"No, you drop your weapon, or she dies!" he replied. A stream of yellow liquid trailed down the woman's legs.

"Please... help," she whimpered.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"No you won't," the man replied smugly. "You are the high and mighty Colonel Carter, you would never use force if you didn't have to. You are a peaceful explorer, taking the nonviolent solution when possible. You are not a killer, Samantha."

The terrorist had judged her correctly, or so he thought. She sighed, dropped the gun on the ground and slid it over to the man. As he reached down, a plainclothes agent emerged from the crowd and put three bullets in his flank and sending him to the ground. Released, the hostage immediately collapsed to her knees, crying.

Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy

The gateroom was large, but it was not that large. Except for a few essential personnel, the entire population of the city, plus several Athosians and a few other invited guests, were packed into the room and the immediately surrounding areas. Packed was the right word- several stood shoulder-to-shoulder.

Brigadier General Elizabeth Weir took her spot on the balcony overlooking the gateroom, accessed via the control room. Flanking her were Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard and Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay. Two armoured soldiers with very real rifles stood behind them. "Officers and enlisted personnel of Earth's military forces, civilian doctors, scientists, and engineers, people of Athos and distinguished guests. I understand that many of you have other commitments, so I will make this short.

"For the people of Earth, it has been a year never to forget. The last year was one of hardship, sacrifice, and desperation, but also one of triumph, of victory, of accomplishment. I do not exaggerate when I say it is the most important year in human history. We have seen the defeat of the goa'uld, the liberation of the people of the Milky Way. The people of Earth now live with the knowledge that there is an entire galaxy out there and we are moving along faster than ever before. In Pegasus, for the first time since the fall of the Ancients there is a real hope that the Wraith may one day be defeated. We've only accomplished small victories, but they are victories nonetheless.

"The galaxy is still a strange place, full of unknowns to discover. Some of them will be beneficial, some will not. Over the last year, the people of this expedition have proven their courage, skill, and dedication. It is those same qualities that will pull us through this year and the next, and the one after that.

"The Wraith are still out there. They are still a threat. The city of Atlantis is not out of danger, and the galactic situation may indeed get worse before it gets better. We have a tough fight ahead of us. Thankfully, we're not going through it alone. The very same knowledge gained from this city now allows the SGC to dial Pegasus. That means that we are now receiving supplies, reinforcements, everything we need. Very soon, units of the 2nd Offworld Combat Division will start arriving to take the fight to the Wraith.

"Though we approach the future with optimism, I ask that we all take a moment to pause and reflect on what we have lost. One year ago to this day, an alien attack ravaged Earth and killed millions of people. Even now, we are still feeling those effects. We must remember those we have lost, on Earth, in the Milky Way, and in Pegasus. There is a poem written on Earth, portions of which are inscribed on many of our war memorials.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them.

"That poem was written during one of the greatest conflicts in Earth's history, when hundreds of thousands of men lost their lives. Today we have an even greater conflict, against an even greater enemy. We must persevere and continue to fight, no matter what the cost. Be under no illusions- we will lose more people. Those fallen heroes will die ensuring freedom and safety for the galaxy. At the same time it is important to not forget about those who are still with us, those who fight against impossible odds and those who are injured in mind, body or spirit.

"We will win this war. One day the people of Pegasus will be able to live freely without the threat of the Wraith. But until that day comes, we must continue to do battle, whether it be on a planet, in space, in a science lab, or in a factory. Thank you."

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba

At least the Goa'uld idea of a prison was reasonably well decorated.

This one was just depressing. It was small, dark, and drab, with concrete walls and a steel roof. Vala's cell was isolated from the rest, ostensibly to give the woman some privacy in the otherwise male prison. The real reason was blatantly obvious. You don't mix Arab terrorists with intergalactic ones.

They didn't let her out much, for basically the same reasons. When they did, it was into a small, fenced off area, with only decisively un-talkative guards for company. Vala had no idea what she was supposed to do, and usually just sat in the corner

Then there was the torture. When captured by the Goa'uld or anyone else, torture was inevitable. Hopefully it just wouldn't be too bad. The spectrum ranged from mild beatings to repeated killing and reviving, with the former a one and the latter a ten. Vala could take about a six on that scale. She had gone in fearing the worst.

And it had come. In terms of sheer pain, it wasn't bad at all- much less than a Goa'uld could do. It was limited to the occasional beating or hitting with objects, usually when she tried to attack her captors. But the Earthlings were so damn creative. One time they had made her run naked in shackles. It hadn't been that painful, but it was humiliating. They tried abusing her sexually, but it didn't work when the girl was all for it. So they started combining techniques, and using drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

In some of her more lucid moments, Vala had thought about why they did it. Certainly not for information. She didn't have a lot, and everything that came out of her mouth was absolute garbage when she was high and under duress. Perverse pleasure perhaps? Or anger?

Vala was, in a word, broken. Her once outgoing, bubbly personality was gone. She walked with her head down, without a spring in her step. Physically, she had lost weight, and was covered in bruises, cuts, and scars. Life seemed to drag on, it was hardly worth living.

"Looks like you've got a visitor," the guard said, letting her out of the cell and leading her down the hallway. She didn't reply.

She was lead down an all-too-familiar concrete corridor towards what she knew was the interrogation room. If you could call it that. The guard led her inside, unlocked her chains, and left the room.

Inside, however, was not the usual big, brawny man but a blonde-haired woman. She wore a well-cut, immaculate suit. "Hello again, Vala."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Vala asked hoarsely.

The blonde woman leaned back. Her eyes flashed briefly, and she stated in the characteristic distorted voice of a Goa'uld, "I think you already know."

"Athena," Vala spat. "What the fuck do you want?"

Athena crossed her arms. "I think you already know that, too."

Getting no reply, she explained. "Clava Thessara Infinitas. The key to infinite treasure. Ring a bell?"

Apparently, it did. "You and Qetesh fought over it, then joined forces, but then Qetesh betrayed you and you never found it. It was all Qetesh, not me."

"Relax, Vala, I hold no grudge against you for it."

"So why are talking, then? I don't know anything."

"I believe Qetesh may have implanted knowledge deep in your mind in the form of repressed memories. Memories that could hold the key to finding the treasure."

Vala failed to react to the T-word. "What do you want me to do?"

"I have access to technology that could be used to extract the memories. In exchange, I will give you a share of the treasure. And of course, your freedom. I think even that will be worth it."

"And if I refuse?"

Athena got up to leave. "We're already putting the plan into action. You can go along with it or cower in the corner of your cell."

Almost on cue, the building shook and the light flickered on and off. An alarm began to sound only seconds after. The same guard quickly barged in. "Ms Mayfield, I'm sorry to cut this short but I need you to leave."

If Athena/Charlotte Mayfield knew what was going on, it certainly didn't show. "Why, what's going on?"

The guard replied, "Not sure, ma'am. The alarm means the prisoners are escaping, but that's physically impossible. Private Howe will escort you out."

Another uniformed man appeared, and Mayfield followed him out of the building. As soon as she was sure they were a reasonable distance away, Vala jumped on the guard, catching him before he could react. She grabbed the leg cuffs originally used to restrain her and wrapped the chain around the man's neck. Instinctively, he reached for it instead of trying to throw her off. Slowly, his grip weakened and he fell to the ground.

Vala released the manacles and picked up the guard's gun, darting down the hallway to the exit. Another alarm went off, this one a bell. Though she didn't realize it, the alarm was a fire alarm, set off by a carefully rigged smoke detector.

Outside, it was utter chaos. The prisoners, armed with a mix of improvised and suspiciously real weapons, were going toe-to-toe with the prison guards, some of them literally. A voice blared over the intercom, but was drowned out by shouting. A Molotov flew over a section of barbed wire fence, igniting a jeep parked on the other side. Vala skirted around the building, avoiding the men skirmishing only metres away, and made her way to the edge of the fence. This section separated the building from the outside world, and was ten feet high chainlink topped with barbed wire.

Vala quickly spun around, looking for threats and a way out. The riot was in full swing, with bullhorns blasting, gunfire pouring into and out of the crowds of enraged fighters, and a helicopter buzzing overhead. The guard towers, which should have been occupied, were not, though she wasn't sure if the guards had been removed beforehand or by force. Smoke rose in the distance. Though Vala didn't know it, the nearby naval base was dealing with a major fire, keeping the sailors occupied and away from the riot.

Slowly, Vala examined the fence. No way through that she could make out. She knew that although the barbed wire looked fairly benign, it could do some very nasty things to people. The razor wire strung through it was fairly obviously harmful. The fence was much too solid to break, and there was no way under. Worse, a uniformed guard was coming right toward her, gun in hand. He noticed the escaped prisoner and started running.

He never made it. A large, heavy SUV came crashing through the fence, smashing him between the bumper and a steel post. The impact killed him almost instantly, and splattered his remains across both the vehicle and fence.

"Come on, get in!" Athena shouted at her, opening a door. Vala needed no second bidding. She jumped inside, and the driver backed up the vehicle before she had even shut the door.

"So, where are we going?" Vala asked as the vehicle moved onto a paved road.

"Well, first, we have to get off this island," Athena explained. "It would be too-"

"Wait, I'm on an island?" Athena nodded. "They didn't tell me that!"

"I'm sure they didn't tell you much of anything. As I was saying, it would be too suspicious for us to travel together. Now the Cuban government isn't exactly an ally of the United States-"

"Cuba? Wait, is this another planet?"

"No," Athena shook her head, irritated. "Earth is divided into countries, although most of them are allied under the Stargate Alliance now. As I was saying, the Cuban government isn't friendly with that of the United States, so they likely won't care about trying to catch you. You'll be dropped off at an airport along with one of my men and will catch a charter flight to Canada- that's another nation."

Secret Service Headquarters, Washington DC

Though two-way mirrors are dramatic, cameras are more practical. That was the stance of the Secret Service. The lone surviving terrorist sat in the interview room, visible from the nearby observation room via several monitors. One of them was a large plasma TV meant to emulate the view a mirror would give.

Given the muddy jurisdiction of the event, several organizations were represented. Agent Barrett of the NID stood alongside Agent Price of the Secret Service. Also in the room was SG-1, still wearing armour since they had no time to change. They represented the Allied Earth Space Forces.

"I want a lawyer," the terrorist complained. He was Arab in ethnicity, which instantly brought stereotypes to mind and didn't help his case one bit. His leg was bandaged, though the bullets had been removed.

The Secret Service interrogator folded his arms. "Then maybe you shouldn't have tried to kill the President!"

"I want a lawyer."

"Look, let me spell this out for you. What you have committed is an act of terrorism. Do you know what that means?"

"I want a lawyer," the Arab repeated.

"Are you aware of the Patriot Act? Do you understand the implications of said Act?" He paused, then slammed his fist on the table. "You don't get a fucking lawyer!"

"That is illegal under your Constitution."

"The Supreme Court disagrees. The ruling is that terrorist scum like you are below the law. So, why don't you start talking, before I make you."

"Go to hell."

The interrogator took a step back. "Alright, fuck it, we're doing this the hard way. If you don't know what 'enhanced interrogation techniques' are, you're about to find out."

Without warning, he grabbed the man by the throat, pulling him out of the chair and slamming him against the wall. He screamed, "WHO DO YOU WORK FOR!"

"That's disgusting," Daniel spat from the interrogation room. "I mean, violating his right to an attorney is bad enough, resorting to torture is just... inhuman."

When the man didn't respond, the interrogator delivered a punch to his face, smashing his nose and raining blood all over the wall. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU WORK FOR? Is it Al-Qaida?"

"First off, I don't work for anyone, I and my brethren do it of our own choice. Second, why does it matter to you? From your point of view, we are all just backwards, fundamentalist desert towelheads who are either camel jockeys or terrorists."

"Yeah, and from yours, we're all a bunch of evil capitalist heathen." That earned the man another punch, this time in the gut, causing him to double over.

He slumped against the wall. "Not all. Some of your souls may be saved, even if your bodies all burn. Yours, I don't think."

With a scream of barely controlled rage, the Secret Service agent savagely kicked the Arab. He cried out in pain.

"Okay, now that is not professional," Carter said to the others. "Or even effective. See, he's just going to admit whatever it takes to make the pain stop."

"Yes, I work for Al-Qaida," the Arab squeaked.

A thin smile appeared on the interrogator's face. "Better. So, who were you trying to kill? The President? SG-1? General Hammond?"

Interpreting silence as a lack of an answer, the interrogator kicked the man again. Blood dribbled from his lip as he sputtered, "The Stargate Program, your capitalist ideas, even your women, it is all hateful to god. We would kill anyone and everyone."

The response was insufficient, and the Arab received another kick. He groaned in pain, clutching his chest. That was not good- the kick had probably broken a rib or two.

"Okay, this is unacceptable," Carter said to Price. "I'm going in there."

"Colonel, I don't know if-" Price called, but Carter was already gone.

"I'll take it from here," Carter said to the Secret Service interrogator. He paused for a moment, seeming contemplating the issue, but actually listening to Price's approval on his in-ear communicator. He nodded to the Colonel and left the room.

"Sorry about that," Carter apologized, helping the man up. He shrugged off her attempts to support him further, and staggered into the chair. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He didn't reply. Noticing his bleeding nose, Carter grabbed a handful of tissues out of a box on the table, and held them to his nose. Blood quickly soaked the paper and stained her gloves, and she tossed the sodden rags and replaced them with fresh ones.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling my own bleeding nose!" the Arab snapped.

"It's not just a nosebleed, it's been totally shattered," Carter replied. "But if you want to choke on your own blood, I'm not stopping you. Why don't you tell me your name?"

"Ismael bin-Saad. Not that it matters much. First you disregard my constitutional rights and deny me a lawyer. Then you beat the shit out of me. And now I'm being interrogated by a woman. You people are pathetic! Why should I even answer your questions?"

"Well, we can do this the easy way," Carter replied. "I'll act the part of a proper lady, and you can answer all my questions. Or I can start bringing out the alien technology."

She leaned in closer. "And some of it is quite painful, I know from experience."

"What do you want to know, anyway?" Though he didn't act scared, they could tell by a few twitches and the smell of feces that he was. Although Ismael didn't realize it, he had already been broken.

José Martí International Airport, Cuba

Vala quickly found out that the Earth ship was incredibly crude.

For one, it didn't have inertial dampeners. She realized that as soon as they began hurtling down the asphalt strip. The acceleration wasn't bad, but she could feel it. Thankfully, they hadn't actually left the ground.

It also seemed to be powered by reaction drives. That wasn't so bad, except that they seemed to operate by combustion. Of fossil fuels. Horrified, Vala watched as smoke belched from the poorly-maintained engines on startup.

Last by not least, the craft- Vala was starting to think of it less like a ship and more like a flying piece of junk- flew using an antiquated technique. Specifically, what was known to Earth scientists as the Bernoulli Principle. The wings weren't just decorative- they kept the plane in the air. That was made immediately obvious by the fact that the craft didn't simply take off on the spot.

A pleasant female voice announced something unintelligible in a language unlike that everyone else on Earth spoke, then in the usual one. "Welcome to Cubana/Air Canada Flight 442. At this time we ask that your seatbelt be fastened and tray table be in the up and locked position. Carry-on baggage should be stored in overhead compartments or below you under the seat.

"If you are seated next to an emergency exit, please carefully read the special instructions on the card next to your seat. In the event of an emergency, please assume the bracing position. Life vests are located under your seat and can be inflated by pulling on the red cord, although this should be done outside of, not in, the aircraft. If evacuation is deemed necessary, floor-level lighting will guide you to the nearest exit. In the event of a decompression, an oxygen mask will drop down in front of you. Place it firmly over your nose and mouth with the elastic strap around the back of your neck and breathe normally.

"We remind you that this is a non-smoking flight, with smoking prohibited on all areas of the aircraft, including the lavatories. Electronic devices may be used on this flight when the seat belt sign is off, or when permitted by your crew. All receiving and transmitting devices must have said functions disabled, as they may interfere with the functioning of navigation and communication equipment.

"This and other safety information may be found in an information card in the seat pocket in front of you along with a menu for our inflight cafe and Adventures magazine. Thank you for choosing Cubana and Air Canada. Please have a pleasant flight. Remember, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask any of our crew members."

Vala raised her hand in the air. "Uh, one, actually. Am I right in thinking that those wings out there-" she pointed out the window- "are what keep this ship in the air?"

Beside her, the Trust handler gently elbowed her.

"That's correct," the flight attendant answered, not entirely sure what the point of the question was or why she referred to the airplane as a 'ship'.

Even as the gentle elbow turned to a hard slam, she continued. "Okay, and those engines use combustion of fossil fuels as a power source?"

The flight attendant was puzzled, but answered the weird woman's questions anyway. "Almost all aircraft do."

"And how do I get off this thing before I die an extremely painful death?"

"Shut up!" the Trust man hissed.

Assuming it was a joke, the flight attendant smiled. "Just try to enjoy your flight, ma'am."

"Cabin crew, prepare for take off," a different voice, this one male, announced barely a minute later. Suddenly, the flight became much worse. The engines screamed, much louder even then the worst maintained goa'uld craft. The aircraft rapidly accelerated, shaking dangerously as it did so. Vala held on for dear life as the acceleration of the aircraft pushed her back into her seat.

M1K-177, Pegasus Galaxy

The people of M1K-177 were a bit like the British, Dr. Dieter Schmidt thought. One of their welcoming customs was to invite visitors into their own houses for tea. An anthropologist, he couldn't help but ponder the significance of brewed leaves.

Schmidt was an Austrian, though he had had education in several other countries including Britain and Germany. He had been selected by his government to join the AESF, and from there he was sent to Pegasus. He could say with absolute conviction that he enjoyed the job. Studying old cultures in a university was one thing, actually seeing other civilizations at different spots on different development paths was mind-blowing. Right now, he was assisting the people with agricultural development. ATL-3, a military team composed of Major Lorne, Lieutenant Cadman, Sergeant Strambopoulos and Sergeant Kazlauskienė. He thought it was totally unnecessary. The people of M1K-177 were peaceful. But at least they could help him with his work. The gun on his hip did nothing at all.

Before Dieter could actually drink any tea, one of the villagers, Dera, called him and Lieutenant Cadman over. "Dieter, Laura. May we talk?"

They headed downstairs for a word in private. Privacy was one thing that was sacred on M1K-177. It was coupled with the ideals of honesty and trust. A whole essay could be wrote on that, but Dera herself was much more interesting in a professional view.

Cadman looked at him nervously. Dieter could tell from here eyes that something was wrong. No sooner had he come to that conclusion than shots rang out from the floor above. The first two sounded like Wraith stunners, which were soon drowned out in conventional weapons fire. Lieutenant Cadman immediately shouldered her weapon and ran back up the stairs.

"Under heavy fire, repeat, under heavy fire! Fall back!" Lorne's voice ordered. There was a muffled scream and a much louder one Dieter could hear clearly.

"There's too many of them! We can't hold this-"

"I'm out!"

"Enemies right! Enemies left! Dear god, they're everywhere! We're surrounded!"

"Schmidt, get the hell out of here! Call Atla-" Lorne's voice cut off and was replaced by static.

He needed no second bidding. Dieter ran through the basement and out the back door, not noticing Dera in the corner with her head in her hands. He fingered the pistol attached to his leg and tried to remember how to use it as he bolted through the fields toward the stargate.

Secret Service Headquarters, Washington DC

"Well, I guess that's one good thing about disclosure," Carter remarked, wiping blood off of her hands. "When you say you're going to use alien technology, they believe you."

She stared at the interrogator, who's name had been revealed to her as Joey. "We do NOT need to resort to torture to extract information. You're a sworn agent of the Secret Service, you should know better."

The agent drew himself to full height, six inches taller than Carter even in her armour. "Those raghead sons of bitches flew two planes into the Twin Towers. I lost my best friend that day, along with nearly three thousand others. There were two other planes. One succeeded in hitting the Pentagon. The other was headed for the White House!"

Carter stood her ground. "You think I don't know that? There was this one woman I flew with. She survived the first Gulf War only to die on her own soil. I am well aware of the implications of the September Eleven attacks. That does not give you an excuse to violate basic human rights based on race! In fact I think you're letting your personal feelings get in the way of your job."

Joey jabbed a finger at her. "That man in there is a monster! He would gladly kill you, me, and everyone in this room over a bullshit bastardization of a religion. Not-"

"Kids!" General O'Neill called, entering the already crowded room. "What's going on in here?"

"Agent Thompson was unnecessarily abusive to the suspect," Price informed him. "He has been reprimanded for his actions."

"He tortured the guy and got a verbal warning for it!" Daniel complained.

O'Neill glared at Daniel, then took the only seat. "So, what do we have on Achmed over there?"

"He claims to be Ismael bin-Saad, no idea if that's true," Carter explained. "With a zat'arc dectector we could confirm it, but it's not that important. His identification gives his name as Stephen Thompson, an African-American convenience store owner in Boston who's been dead for close to four years. Him and his two friends were working for Al-Qaida, trying to do as much damage as possible. Claims to be of religious motivation, of course."

"Claims to be?" O'Neill asked.

Carter's head bobbed up and down, and O'Neill briefly wondered how she did it without smashing her chin into her neck protector. "Yes, sir. I think that the Trust had some involvement. I can't say for certain whether these men were working for what was really the Trust, if the Trust and Al-Qaida were working together, or if Al-Qaida has been subverted by the Trust."

"And what makes you think that the Trust had anything to do with it?" Price asked.

"The shield protecting the stage had been disabled for the attack, along with most of our communications systems. Ismael claimed that neither he nor his associates had anything to do with it, only that they were assured it would be done. That means that there is a third party involved, and the sabotage was done in an extremely elegant, refined manner. The Trust has agents with the technical knowledge and the ability to place them via a deep network in the United States- something no Middle East terrorist group has."

"They would have just blown up the shield generators, or shot them," O'Neill quipped. "Nothing like superior firepower to finish the job."

"You sound like Uncle Ronnie," Barrett mentioned offhand, then turned serious. "If the Trust is involved, that's not good."

"Speaking of the Trust," O'Neill mentioned awkwardly. "I just got word in from Guantanamo Bay. There's been a riot."

"Sir?"

"At first they thought it was the Cuban government, or some terrorist group or other. But who has the ability to infiltrate and plant weapons inside one of our most secure facilities."

He paused for dramatic effect. "The Trust, that's who! And to top it off, a Charlotte Mayfield just left the island, headed for Mexico and presumably the US from there."

"Charlotte Mayfield," Carter recited. "President of Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics, a minor defence contractor suspected to have connections to the Trust."

"So, what happened at Gitmo?" Joey asked.

"There was a riot," O'Neill repeated. "The local prison population rose up with improvised and scarily non-improvised weapons. Ten of ours dead for thirteen prisoners, with another five unaccounted for."

"What about-" Daniel began to ask.

"Escaped. Whereabouts are unknown, someone who may or may not be her was seen at the airport in Havana. Carter-"

"Yes, sir, I'll do my thing." She turned to Agent Price. "Can I use this computer terminal?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"How's Hammond?" Daniel asked, leaning toward Jack.

"Two bullets, didn't hit anything major," the General replied. "The doctors worked their magic, and they say he should be walking within the week."

That was the end of the conversation, as it took Sam only moments to access the airline computer systems and go through the records. "Two tickets booked with a Farrow-Marshall expense account to Toronto Pearson. They should be arriving in a few hours."

"That's hardly grounds for an arrest, or anything," Price objected.

"I know, but it gives us an idea of where to look," Carter said. "Sir, there isn't much more we can do here. Ismael doesn't know a lot, and the Trust connection-"

"I agree, Carter. Guess you're headed for Toronto next. I'll clear it with the Canadian authorities. Bring her back."