Hell's Gate

© November 2003 Dark Angel.  

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, at least not the ones you recognise from the show, namely; Sam, Janet, Hammond, Cassie, O'Neill, etc. The remaining characters are my original creations, and rightfully Copyright © Dark Angel 2003. Please do not reuse them either in part or whole without my express permission.

Romance/Love Warning: This story deals with romantic and sexual situations between two adult women, in particular Major Samantha Carter and Doctor Janet Fraiser, but others too. In fact lots of women so you know if it's not for you, do the leaving right away. If you're under 18 or this type of material is against the law where you live, please move on. This story is intended for an adult audience only.

Violence/Implied non-con Warning: You'll find violence spread throughout this story after all it's about some pretty gruesome circumstances on an unforgiving alien world. There is also some implied situations of sexual violence and general poor treatment of a beloved character.

The occasional profanity is in there too but like the violence is not meant to do anymore than assist with telling the tale.

Please send comments/feedback to:darkangelxena@hotmail.com

PROLOGUE
July 11th 2006 - 0430 hours.
It was still dark when Sam Carter's eyes hinged open, glistening and bloodshot from tears shed during sleep. Familiar screams, familiar smells and the all encompassing wretched pain still clung to her, leaving her soaked in layers of sweat even as she struggled to climb away from the dream.

She blinked twice focusing in on the room's half-light, instantly picking up on the sound of light rain tapping methodically against a closed window near the end of her bed. The clock on the side table read four thirty one. Stifling a groan she rolled over, no longer surprised by the hour she woke or the images that so often came first.

As she moved reflex pain shot down the length of her spine, but lucid, she knew they were remnants of a symptom, more like an echo than the actual cause.

She let herself watch the shadows cast by heavy branches brushing along the side of the house for a time. Then the numbers tick over on the digital clock display - till sounds of heavier rain started to sound like percussion and another memory of the voices rocketed around in her brain.

At five am, she pushed the bed covers back and drew a robe firmly about her waist, not bothering to switch on a light; she padded the short distance to the bathroom. There she cleaned her teeth and ran a brush through freshly cropped blonde hair, braving a look in the mirror only when she was done and ready to leave - still uncertain after all this time who it was she would find staring back.

By five fifteen she was dressed in a pair of jeans and college sweatshirt perched on the edge of their bed lacing a pair of well worn general purpose boots. Old habits died hard, and even technically not on duty, Sam still found it hard not to dress like she was preparing for battle.

Her hands stilled as one of the many teasing remarks her lover would make about Sam's lack of suitable casual wear pricked her consciousness. 'You can take the solider out of the battlefield but you can't take the comfortable shoes out of…' The brief smile that had accompanied the thought faded quickly, leaving only more sadness, more reality than she could entirely bear. Memories filled this room, filled every room of this house. Memories of the life they'd made together.

She pushed off the bed, knowing that if she was completely honest with herself her greatest fear now was not knowing if they would be the afforded the opportunity to make more.

Sending the memory and her fears back to where they belonged, Sam grabbed a jacket she'd left draped over the nightstand and retreated into the hall.

In the kitchen she wrote a note explaining where she was heading with an approximate time she planned to be home, absently wondering if such a thing was still necessary. Cassie, whose light snoring could be heard as Sam passed her room on her way downstairs, had grown up with both her parent's irregular comings and goings.

Sam pinned the piece of paper to the refrigerator anyway and collected her keys, not the ones to the bike, not in this weather, but to the car they shared. Another memory permeated her senses, one that had taken place almost on the very spot to where she now stood; so typically Janet on the craziness factor of Sam riding her Indian in the rain. Like so many of their memories, the compact brunette was smiling, teasing conveying her mock disapproval with a heart filled with nothing but love and admiration.

Opening the back door, Sam took a moment to brace herself against the downpour outside and the prospect of another day without Janet by her side. Without looking back she made a dash for the garage.

By five forty five she was on the expressway travelling north, pleased that for the most she was a head of the early morning rush. The first signs of dawn streaked across the dashboard of her car a little after six, just as the exit that would take her to Cheyenne Mountain came into sight.

Her hands remained perfectly steady at ten-to-two on the steering wheel even as a tear slid the length of her face unchecked. She let it be, secure in her solitude that it, like the others, was necessary. There would be precious little time for such indulgences once she reached the base. And though she didn't know how she'd gotten through the last few weeks, certainly sleep had been a mystery - she'd learned at least it was all right to cry.

Another ten minutes later Sam's face was dry and it was light enough that she was able to switch off the headlights. She found a pair of sunglasses left in the center console to disguise anything the gentle dabbing of a tissue couldn't hide.

The airmen at both checkpoints saluted and offered easy smiles when she acknowledged each of them by name. She returned the smile with routine relief knowing the sentiment never completely reached her eyes.

By seven am Sam had parked her car and walked the short distance to the lifts that would take her down past the 'Gate Room', the administration levels and most other things in the complex to the infirmary's ICU. There she spent several minutes observing the nursing staff perform their checks through the mirrored glass, and a few more reading the update charts left hanging on the railing just outside the door. She returned to the glass window then, to press her fingertips and forehead affectionately to the glass. Just like she'd done yesterday - and the day before that - and the one before.

She wasn't expecting a miracle - far too much had happened to expect that, even if it was possibly the only thing that would help. But it didn't stop her wishing, hoping, that this day would be the day they told her there'd been some hint of recovery - a spark of her love returning home.

She was sitting in the deserted waiting area nursing a styrofoam cup of coffee at a quarter to the next hour. Sam heard one of the consult doors swing open and turned hoping it was the news she'd been waiting for. But the young medic just nodded politely and kept walking clasping the clipboard he carried as if his own life depended on it.

The nurse that pushed through the main entrance moments later had done pretty much the same thing. The one that actually did approach her reported only what Sam had already read on the progress charts herself. There had been no visible change in Janet's condition throughout the night. She remained stable but in a comatose state. The nurse had lingered Sam thought just trying to be kind. She had told Sam she should finish her coffee before it went cold and that there were some new magazines that she might want to read. Sam thanked her blankly but had made no attempt to search out the magazines or empty her cup.

As the early morning shuffle of shift-change penetrated the walls behind her, she felt a fresh onslaught of tears on the rise and quickly wiped them away. Embarrassed and beaten, she slumped back pulling one of her knees up high to her chest.

It was supposed to have been a routine scout of a planet designated PX4 283, standard backup to complete a series of soil and fauna samples that the med lab was running tests on. A mission classified so low it wasn't even worthy of a full crew. Previous investigations had found no evidence of anything bigger than a goose, and that really hadn't been a goose, more like a desert rat with feathers.

It was why she hadn't thought twice about letting the 'Doc' come along. Why they'd been resting without their weapons within easy reach. And why five of her colleagues had been buried with full honors just over a week ago.

O'Neill kept telling her she couldn't have predicted the ambush. The M.A.L.P. had picked up nothing. While two subsequent trips by SG8, told them no more than the planet possessed the sample materials they sought.

Who was she to think she could see the future? How was she to know it was going to end the way it did for any of them? But in her heart Sam didn't buy it; not even from the Colonel. Because that single lapse in judgment had cost good people their lives and had shattered the world, as she and Janet knew it. And nothing, nothing would ever be the same.

When Janet woke up Sam was going to tell her it was her fault and no one else's. All that her lover had been forced to endure; to witness and aid was on Sam's hands, not hers. And if she'd let her, Sam would spend the rest of their lives together making it up to her. All Janet had to do was wake up.

1.1.
May 26th 2006 - 0750 hours.

Janet Fraiser leaned in close as she and Sam mounted the platform together. "You wait," she whispered, staggering a little under the weight of her pack. "It'll be fun having me tag along."

She smiled broadly even as her lover's expression stayed fixed. She added cheekily,

"Do you think I should've packed some lunch?"

The normally swamped MO had been looking forward to this for days and wasn't going to pretend this wasn't exactly how she believed everyone should spend his or her downtime at work. It didn't matter that her exceptional good mood wasn't quite as infectious as she hoped. They would go through the gate, 'secure the perimeter' and get down to some well-deserved together time.

She linked arms with the blonde in a friendly teasing gesture that everyone in the gate room had seen a thousand times, ignoring the slightly uncomfortable pull from Sam until the taller woman relaxed. Like Janet, she knew it would be interpreted as nothing more than the platonic embrace everyone convinced themselves they saw.

That was the funny thing about appearances Janet often thought. People saw what they wanted to see, no different from hearing what they wanted to hear. And as much as she and Sam were a part of the SGC family, there was always going to be that certain something that just drifted above everyone else's head. It didn't matter, she reminded herself as they crossed the threshold side by side with Beckett and the others bringing up the rear. What they did have, even if it was just between them, was more than good.

The ivory sand and sparse vegetation that greeted them as they stepped through the other side of the gate could easily have been a spring morning on Earth. Similar in atmosphere and temperatures to their own world, they predicted that they had at least twelve hours of daylight at their disposal with mid 50 temps throughout. They wouldn't be staying anywhere near that long, but it was a nice bonus all the same.

The service crew had marched off to the one of the ridges paralleling the gate to set up their equipment for the usual tests. But because of that beautiful spring feeling, and the fact that it had been days since they'd had a second to themselves, she'd encouraged the normally 'by the book' Major to sit out the set up and watch from a row of low boulders some distance away.

It felt as though only minutes had passed, enough time for them to say a proper hello after they were certain no one could see, and exchange a few sentences about how Cassie appeared to be settling into her second year of college life. She who had made herself comfortable using a lower positioned rock than one she'd chosen to sit on for a footrest and stretched out. She remembered leaning back admiring how positively stunning Sam always looked in her camouflage issue, reflective glasses and service cap. And maybe, just maybe there would be an excuse for the two of them to take a stroll somewhere less open for some closer more intimate catching up.

Neither of them had seen or heard anything until it was too late. Then shots had come from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, delivered like a barrage of cannon fire from assailants that appeared out of thin air. Sam got her rifle up, but with the speed and unexpectedness of the attack, she couldn't pinpoint a target, or locate the others in their group.

Taking command Sam had given the order to reopen the gate. Janet was punching like crazy on the DHD just short of the last two symbols. She remembered glancing back, seeing Sam waving her rifle around like there was no tomorrow.

She wasn't certain what happened next, only that the attackers were upon them before she could press another key, and before Sam could fire again. She remembered thinking there was just too many. Dozens of them, descending like a swarm.

She heard Sam screaming, "Get away from her."

Janet felt the sensation of the two of them being dragged apart. Saw the look of panic and desperation in Sam's eyes as Janet's head was being covered - and then nothing until she woke up in the pit.

That was two days ago, or so Janet thought. The only access to sunlight she had now was a small opening far too high above her to attempt an escape. But she came to realize it brightened and darkened at regular intervals indicating the passing of day to night, giving her at least some means of tracking time. Her watch was one of the first things she noticed missing when she'd awoken. It along with her id tags and the fact she'd been relieved of every article of air force issue clothing she'd been wearing. The dirty, thickly woven, uncomfortable shift they'd replaced her uniform with was by no means, a fair exchange. She tried not to think much about it, or the fact that she had no idea whether she was the only survivor of their team or not.

So far she had managed to keep to herself keep herself going, approaching the drum of water at the center of the dirt floor only when absolutely necessary and by waiting until the more aggressive women who occupied the confines with her had their fill of the food thrown down.

She'd seen several others brought in over the last day, and two taken away; all dark haired and petite like her in build. None of them spoke though, not even to the ones they'd arrived with.

She curled herself up in a ball when it got dark; pulling the uncomfortable shift over her knees for warmth. She could do nothing but wait. Sam would come, because she always did. She wasn't dead, she couldn't be. Sam would find her and take her out of here.

1.2.
At first Sam thought it had all been some kind of horrendous nightmare. The kind that was not uncommon whenever she was off world, full of hallucinations and worst-case scenarios. That was until she tried to sit up and the throbbing in her head and right shoulder forced her back.

She remembered then; the sounds of her own screaming, the sound of Janet being ripped from her arms and finally of being hit too hard.

She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious or where she was now, only that it was warm and mostly dark.

There was no over-head lighting and what little illumination she was offered seemed to be generated by something outside her range of sight. From touch alone she could tell that her shirt was open and her right shoulder was strapped heavily, allowing only partial movement. With effort she reached downward discovering the knees in both her trouser legs were torn out, matching fibreglass like harnesses now attached to each limb. Someone had removed her boots, but oddly had left her socks, service belt and sidearm in place.

She tried to sit up again, this time getting as far as propping her weight under her left elbow, her face contorting against the burning sensation in the back of her head. Eventually she found a semi-bearable position that didn't send shooting pains up her back, or make her want to vomit the lunch she hadn't had.

The room appeared to be some kind of laboratory or medical facility. A series of metallic like benches, bereft of any obstructions lined two of the main walls. Another bunk similar to the one she herself was still partially laying on was positioned close by.

Finally with some twisting and manoeuvring of her weight, Sam's eyes settled on the source of the room's limited lighting; a flat screen with a series of numbers and graph lines positioned in the center of the rear wall just behind her head. The pain in her right shoulder and the fact her legs felt like dead weight, prevented her from actually getting off the bed, but she was able to scoot around for a closer look. Her gaze followed the base of it along discovering smaller but similar panels on each section of space, all apparently with a different function but operating uniformly to the next.

She was about to have another go at actually getting her legs over the side of the bench top when one of the walls began to separate and the room's lighting system engaged. Blinded, Sam instinctively reached for her only defence still strapped to her side.

Her focus and vision returned in time to see several figures all wearing heavy robes that shrouded their faces, move in to the room.

Her trigger finger twitched expectantly as one broke away from the group and drew closer, bowing low before extending a hand to Sam to guide her upward. It was at that moment that Sam realized the purpose of the fibreglass like bracers fastened around her legs. And a whole new meaning to pain.

If she thought she'd felt physical discomfort before this, it had never even remotely come close. The rawness was beyond severe, beyond shocking, masking her to her surroundings while at the same time dispatching in nauseating detail the memory of how her legs came to be that way in the first place.

She managed to fight off the urge to retch where she stood.

"Do not be alarmed." A feminine voice conveyed.

Along with another of the robed figures the one who was clearly a woman supported Sam's weight while the pain coursed on, appearing to be checking her pulse rate and other vital signs.

"They were broken," the voice went on, answering the horror on their visitor's face. Throughout, Sam maintained a tentative hold on her pistol grip and assessed the group gathering around her. Her mind rapidly searching for options for escape.

"My name is Samantha Carter," she said to no one and all of them at the same time. "My colleagues and I traveled here through your Stargate with peaceful intentions and were ambushed."

Two of the other hooded figures blocking the room's only exit, turned to face one another exchanging words so softly that Sam couldn't distinguish. All she could tell was their tones seemed pressured, an underlining edge of impatience growing in the taller of them.

Then abruptly they drew apart, giving entrance to yet another robed figure that stopped only a short distance away from Sam before pulling back the hooded cloak. A woman of approximately fifty earth years with brilliant blue eyes and hair the color of fresh corn regarded Sam with guarded concern.

She too bowed before uttering a word.

"Our apologies, Samantha Carter," she spoke. Raising her hand just above her shoulder, an unheard command appeared to be issued to those who stood with her. Sam continued to watch as all the other hooded figures moved in a kind of domino motion, revealing themselves to be a group made up entirely of women similar in striking color and height.

"I am Terrill, leader here." The first to reveal herself explained. "Our people are called the Setti." She raised both hands now indicating those around her. "We are inhabitants of this compound and keeper's of the Shield."

To Sam's relief the pain that moments before almost had her writhing in agony on the floor was dissipating and she was able to stand without support. The two who had originally aided her, stood close but were no longer required to hold her up.

"Shield?" she echoed absently trying to shift her weight.

Terrill turned her attention and moved slightly to her left, encouraging Sam to observe as a view screen set into one of the surface tops was activated. Assisted Sam moved the distance needed to see a series of schematics appear with the touch of the older woman's hand. Outer images Sam identified easily as the gate and surrounding area. The others, similar in appearance to blue prints depicted a thin layer of magnetic energy traversing the land. Small structures were labeled indicating their positioning and distance from both the gate and another band, possibly another barrier some few meters away.

"I guess I should have looked harder," Sam told her, grasping that her present location was only a short distance from the stargate.

"It would have done you little good," the leader asserted. She continued to run her fingers effortlessly over the touch panel, tapping in further commands that produced new images and diagrams, this time of various areas inside the actual compound itself.

A flash of light captured Sam's attention briefly indicating a mechanism that opened and closed the invisible barrier around the buildings.

Under different circumstances, she would have found the discovery of such a device remarkable and would have kept her 'hosts' busy for days asking all number of questions about power sources and range to name just a few. If she only understood half of what she was seeing it was truly incredible. Not only had the shield not been undetected by all the surveillance equipment SGC had at its disposal but would remained so if not for its owner's revelations.

Perhaps it had been the extent of her injuries, the obvious medication the strangers had pumped into her system in their attempt to heal her, Sam wasn't sure, but the dawning was slow, much slower than she would later wish to believe.

At first the voice inside her said she shouldn't be standing, it should not have been possible. At best it should have been extraordinarily more painful. Yet somehow, here she was. Somehow she was standing on broken legs - the image of their attackers slammed into her consciousness again; She was on the ground, Janet was kicking, covered and being pulled further away. She'd already taken a shot to her shoulder, another that had just been a graze but had knocked her hard all the same. The figure loomed, garments billowing in the flurry, teeth, words, a snarl, and finally the riffle-butt coming down - and then again.

Mechanically Sam looked down; releasing the easy hold she kept about her gun handle to tilt her wrist up. 'Sixteen hours, I've lost almost the entire day.'

"The others?" The words felt like they were choking in the back of her throat. "The others that were with me - where are they?"

Terrill's face paled at the question, her expression growing equally grim, her movements ceasing at once.

"I am afraid they're all dead," she told Sam gently.

From somewhere very far away, Sam sensed the words had been delivered with sympathy and genuine regret. Yet they faded almost as they had come, drifting away like the other voices around her, the ones murmuring 'catch her' and 'goddess'.

All matter of strength from her tortured bones escaped. She was falling, down - down - until the haze lifted returning the vivid sterility of the stark room.

She clung to one of the slick metal surfaces, her body a mass of shuddering nerves. One of the nameless women who had helped her walk thus far, had placed her own hand over the top of Sam's, lacing her fingers through others washed white, attempting to contain at least some of the shock. Absently Sam looked down at the two hands linked together. They were almost identical in size and shape. It could almost be - so soft, clean tapered fingers caressing her with the most tender of touches.

This couldn't be happening, Sam told herself, tearing away. This just can't be for real.

"I need to see them…" It came out as a whisper, remote and robotic in pitch.

The elder reached forward lightly making contact with the rumpled seam of Sam's shirtsleeve. She could feel the blonde withdrawing both in body and mind, a sight and sensation she was all too familiar with first hand.

She left her hand slip away moving only inches so she could activate another of the touch screens close by. The panel brightened presenting a series of menu options to select from. Moments later a visual to somewhere else inside the complex walls, a well-lit room almost identical to where they stood drew Sam's focus.

Sam shook her head ignoring the pain it brought. "No," she breathed. "I mean - I need to see them for myself."

"It is some distant," Terrill offered uncertain. The major gritted her teeth as she managed to pivot on the spot and took a single step towards the door alone.

"I'll manage." Sam answered without turning back.

Terrill paused, watching stiff shoulders and broadly parted limbs anchor themselves determinedly. Inwardly she sighed realizing her guest was not about to give in. The illumination on the view panel before her dimmed with the lightest of touch and she moved away. The elder and another took up positions either side of the wounded woman.

"This way," the elder gestured pointing towards the adjoining corridor.

1.3.
At first sight there was very little that distinguished the room where Sam and Terrill now stood to any of the others she'd seen during the painfully slow tour it took to get there. Metallic bench tops similar to the area where Sam had woken, only minus the cushioned padding covered a large proportion of the floor space. Same sterile décor, the same sickly aroma. Even the walls looked suspiciously similar, at least until she looked sideways, to the wall adjacent the entrance where a series of small doors rested in methodical order. She let her eyes skirt across then, to the exact parallel. Set back out of line of sight to any one who wasn't completely inside the room was a larger bench lipped at the sides.

No one needed to tell her this was the Setti's equivalent of a morgue.

Yet she had to see, she had to see for herself that her lover was there. She wouldn't actually let herself say the words, not even to herself, but if Janet was - gone, she needed to see it with her own eyes. Until Sam could see her face, feel the soft touch of dark curls or hold a lifeless hand, none of this would be real. She would hold her breath and perhaps by some resigned meaning she would make herself understand the incomprehensible.

A young silver haired technician stood up as they moved fully into the room. Coming around from behind a small desk, she bowed first to the leader and then at Sam.

Voices were muffled and those that weren't were drowned out by the strange inhuman sounds of her world fracturing piece by piece. Sam blinked and the noises stopped. She blinked again and realized she was standing between Terrill and the unknown woman again. She wrapped her uninjured arm around herself as she waited, closing her eyes a third time hoping she would find herself somewhere other than before the looming door.

She'd seen a lot for a woman her age, heck she'd seen a lot for anyone her age, unimaginable things outside the majority of people's reckoning. Yet somehow death, no matter how often shown, made her feel like she was six years old again, fare-welling her mother. Training and time taught her not to cry like she had as a child but everything else, the nausea, and the overbearing compulsion to strike out and demand a recall were as they had been in 1969.

Impassive, the technician reached in front of them, cutting across Sam to release the small catch that secured the first door. More sounds, this time of tumblers turning, of wheels rolling magnified in Sam's head. Another hand became the center of focus as a colorless sheet came directly into her view.

The first body Sam saw was Beckett. His eyes were closed and his arms had been folded over his chest. She thought he looked like he could just as easily be sleeping.

The next was Kramer, younger and larger than Beckett. She'd played pool with him at the Christmas party last year. He had a wife and two little girls. His head was almost completely detached from the rest of his body, and if it weren't for the fact that he was laying down it would probably tumble off.

After that was Hertz; dark about Sam's build - wiry hair. Like Beckett he could have been mistaken for sleeping if not for the gaping hole where his chest should be. His face said he'd seen them, probably seen them kill his friends and then come for him.

The third door closed as Sam felt the first fall of a tear, one single tear slipping out and down her face before she could think or try to brush it away. Her head was down so what did matter, she thought. She didn't look up when the technician moved away rather than continue onto the next storage door. It took her a few moments to realize the young woman had returned to her desk and was engaged again in a whispered conversation with the compound elder. The nameless woman had also left her side and moved to study one of the panels slotted against another wall, seemingly to afford Sam some kind of privacy.

"I had four comrades," Sam started bracing herself against Hertz's tomb, needing to stop herself, to breathe and count and do whatever else would carry her through. "There were three men and - one woman." she bit out in time.

The technician offered Sam no more than a skeptical glance before checking her notes again. She checked them a second time before tapping the view screen in front of her.

"There were only three, -" the young woman confirmed. She appeared to hesitate as if rolling something over in her mind before she added, "-men."

Panic flooded Sam's voice. "There was a woman." Sam insisted, spiraling back into a state of shock. This could very well be some kind of elaborate trick. They had been very amicable to date, but that may be part of how they lured people in.

She raised her uninjured hand to indicate her lover's build.

"A doctor, shorter than me… The last thing I remember was she was grabbed by two - no three fighters, dressed in desert coverings." Sam pointed to the leader's robes. "Similar to what you're wearing but instead of hoods, they wore turbans - and their robes were belted at the waist."

Terrill and the technician remained silent though seemingly sympathetic to their visitor's plight. To Sam however it just felt like she was getting nowhere and unable to stand not knowing what they'd done with Janet a moment longer, she drew her pistol training it directly on the elder's head.

Timed almost to the exact second, a wail of distress sirens pierced her hearing. Moments after that a troop of women dressed conspicuously like Earth police complete with insignia and rank, and an array of weaponry clearly superior to her own, quickly entered and surrounded her.

The sirens dropped down to a kind of humming but each of the riffle-like arms stayed squarely trained on Sam.

"I understand your confusion," Terrill was saying as calmly as she could.

Flashing lights that had accompanied the onset of alarm continued to blink off and on further escalating the panic. Sam felt her finger tighten in the trigger.

It was obvious to Terrill Sam's state was fueled by fear and confusion rather than any real threat she wished upon them. Stepping closer she raised her hands equal with her waist, palms flat instituting the universal sign for no contest.

Their eyes met, both sets weary yet wanting to trust.

"We are not trying to deceive you. We found only yourself and the ones you saw."

The elder averted her attention just enough to signal for normal lighting to be returned.

The group of armed troops maintained their stand blanketing Sam in a half circle she had no chance of breaking through.

"Put your weapon down and you won't be harmed." Some one had ordered authoratively.

Sam widened her stance, trying to steady her position and keep her weapon up. With agonizing effort she pulled her injured arm free of its bindings to clutch the hilt with both hands.

"I just want to see her," she rasped. "Take me to her- it's all I ask."

One their captain Sam assumed by her posture and coolness, stepped closer still, like Terrill using her free hand to display her unwillingness to fight.

"Tell me more about the other," she engaged. "Tell me what happened."

It was enough to have Sam shift a little, altering her aim away from Terrill. They both knew that shift however minor, had been the perfect opportunity if she'd wished to take Sam down. Sam's ability to stay up right however was becoming more and more tenuous to all that could see. To Sam herself, the numbing sensation spreading around her right shoulder, the warmth and smell of fresh blood seeping under her clothes told her that what ever healing that may have occurred was now being undone.

"We were near the gate - the Stargate," she coughed struggling to stop herself from swaying overtly. "They were on us before I could do anything. Doctor Fraiser's not like me, she's a healer not really experienced with a weapon."

No longer able to maintain her hold on her weapon with both hands, Sam let her right arm fall limp at her side. The fingers of her wounded limb felt like they were on fire and were beginning to cramp. She shook them, trying to hold on to what feeling she could.

It was obvious and clearly written on the captain's face that Sam was no longer viewed as a threat. Her vision failing Sam watched as the order to stand-down was given.

"Go on," the woman encouraged as if nothing had altered. She too had switched off whatever it was that powered her own weapon and gently placed it barrel down at her side.

Much of the day's earlier events were still just a blur to Sam, a combination of images and sounds that didn't add up. She remembered their weapons looked similar though not identical to the ones raised in her direction. She looked away briefly, her own weapon swaying with her as a specific memory of the events triggered in her mind.

"They said something about Janet, Doctor Fraiser being perfect?"

Sam heard the captain sigh audibly and then as she focused back make a 180-degree turn on the spot.

"Send a detail to recheck the area where our guest and the others were found. Send another with a repair module to locate any new cold spots on the outer shield," she snapped off.

A barrage of something resembling a salute and 'Yes, Sirs,' followed. The rest of the troops retreated along with the young technician whom Terrill waved away, leaving Sam, the elder and the captain alone.

"They call me Evyn. I am Chief Scout," the woman explained. Pointedly she looked from the service pistol Sam was barely managing to hold and the blonde's wavering state. "If your companion is within the compound shield's she will be found. If not a search team will be dispatched at first light."

Sam held her place for another beat as the captain's words sunk in. Shakily she re-holstered her pistol, accepting the remaining women's help to be guided to one of the nearby exam tables. She dared not recline, even though she sensed it was only a matter of time before she passed out again.

"We're scientists and explorers." Sam told them. "We came here only because we believed your planet to be un- inhabited. If we had known differently we would have used every possible means to meet with you and clarify our intentions."

Terrill smiled, intuitively believing Sam's words in spite of the most recent event.

"Then once upon a time our peoples may have had much in common," she responded wearily. "At a time not so long ago, we valued exploration and scientific research as much as we valued any of our other achievements." Almost undetectable her tone dropped. "However mistakes were made, actions taken that altered the course of our society, I fear irreversibly."

Relatively certain her guest would not topple from the makeshift bed, Terrill drew one of the room's metallic framed chairs to the table's side. There she set about doing what she could to stop the freshly open wound on Sam's upper arm from getting any worse.

"Just like you, they came, off-worlders." Terrill continued as she worked. "We suspected nothing and with nothing we needed to hide, welcomed them with their promises, lies and drugs."

"What kind of drugs?" Sam asked. Her ability to concentrate had improved somewhat but she was still loosing a lot of blood. Through blurred vision she could see that Evyn had retreated to the far side of the room, resting her weight on the corner of the technician's desk where her weapon now lay. Sam assumed it afforded the scout a clean line of fire if need be without actually encroaching on the conversation at hand.

"The worst kind," Terrill answered soberly. "The kind that makes you believe you are more than what you are. That beliefs once favored are cast aside and replaced with meaningless destructive pursuits."

Sam knew Earth had its own equivalent of such drugs; some she was familiar with first hand from her younger days, others she had studied in her capacity as a scientist. But all potentially destructive if misused or placed in the wrong hands.

"Mind altering?"

Terrill dipped her head. Easing Sam's right arm up, she repacked the bloodied area with clean gauze. "If it had been something more obvious like a weapon one could touch perhaps we would have sent them away immediately." Her tone became reflective, and Sam thought, resigned. "But who knows, looking back we were gullible no matter the explanation or promises they gave."

"How?" Sam whispered.

"In the beginning it was hardly noticeable. Petty squabbling, minor damage to places deemed significant or protected. But over time it grew, they, the younger ones among us began operating with a pack type of mentality, separating themselves from elders and... Then several weeks after the introduction of the substance, the unspeakable happened. A young woman was attacked, beaten viciously..."

Her voice fell away, halting the moment as the young technician assigned to the room poked her head back around the door. Evyn folded her arms firmly across her chest and frowned, causing the door to reseal just as quickly as it had been opened.

"…. She was also assaulted by each of them - the entire group." Terrill finished watching Evyn stand up agitated and walk to lean back against the recently opened door.
"Before we knew what was happening, the core component of the drug had transmuted, becoming viral and able to be passed from one host to another by casual contact. Out of a population of millions, a little less than one hundred thousand were unaffected by the GEAR."

"Genetically Enhanced Aggression Rota," Evyn interjected blandly.

"Of those, only half were able to escape across the desert before the second shield lock was set," Terrill continued.

Sam ran her un-injured hand through her hair, considering what had been told so far.

"So the field is as much about keeping your people in, a way of containing them - as well as protecting them from any further off world threat?" she calculated out loud.

"In the end it was the only thing we could do," Terrill confirmed. But she was no longer focusing on Sam either. Her gaze had become distant reliving the events of which she spoke. "The only thing left for our people and for any who might unwittingly trespass on a land fouled by the sickness."

Sam's memory flashed over some of the other civilizations she had encountered since traveling through the gate, of the worlds that had been dismantled and now struggled to recover from years of war and unstable governments. And how some did not, some were lost forever because of it.

"It took several months for the full affects of the GEAR to take hold," Terrill was saying when Sam's attention returned. "Those of us that did not succumb realized early on where it was taking us. We found one another and established a link to try to find ways to combat its effects. Tragically we discovered all we really could do was to prevent others coming to our world and either succumbing to the disease or bringing further torment."

Sam recalled the frantic glimpse she'd got of the ones who had ambushed them, particularly their weapons and clothes. Unlike the 'keepers', they wore draped fabrics in tones of dirt and sand like desert folk, their heads and most of their faces covered with turban like masks.

"The ones that attacked my people - seemed less advanced?" Sam prompted, thinking it was probably closer to feral.

"Another of the GEAR's side effects," Terrill confirmed.

"Within a few short months much of our world's technology was redirected to the manufacture of the GEAR. Everything else became secondary until in time things broke down, no further research was made and well you will eventually see for yourself - it became a very affective way to disarm an entire race without raising a single hand."

Sam pronounced slowly. "Are you telling me your people once more technologically advanced than the planet I come from destroyed themselves in a matter of months?"

Terrill nodded.

"And this drug destroyed it all? The affects it had on your people?"

"It created a kind of madness, an uncontrollable fantasy world that forced the taker to adopt a particular persona when under its influence. We believe it was initially designed to be utilized between males and females on its origin's planet, possibly for aphrodisiac purposes. But without the basic chromosomal difference to interact with, it adapted, quickly self-selecting other such differences to enable its purpose to function."

The lingering scent and constantly altering lights around Sam were making it increasingly difficult for her to concentrate, but what she was hearing just didn't seem possible.

"How on Earth could that happen, to an aware, civilized people - in a matter of months?"

"Perhaps the question is really, why?"

Sam shook her head. "Okay, why? Why did it work - here?"

Terrill hesitated, looking to Evyn who was still leaning against the door.

"We use genetic encoding to reproduce," the scout answered evenly. She looked directly at Sam. "I am sure you have noticed there are no men."

Sam vaguely registered the explanation as Terrill began speaking again.

"Over time we have perfected the process so when a child is conceived her parents had determined much of both her physical characteristics and personality traits. Abnormalities related to diseases and defects have long been a thing of the past and any genes considered ineffectual or unnecessary have simply been -."

Evyn's tone had returned to its authoritative timber cutting the leader off mid-sentence.

"Your friend, did she have the same color hair as you?"

Sam's dawning was slow but acute.

"No. What does that matter?" she asked.

"The GEAR subdivided and mutated," Terrill told her picking up the captain's train of thought. "It mutated and separated until the only compatible strands of difference it could find in our physiology was our - hair color."

The pieces began to fall into place and Sam forced herself to sit upright.

"The blonde gene is recessive," she pushed out tensely.

Terrill nodded.

"And because of that it was attacked first. Our estimates put it a full season of mutation before the others, possibly causing the aggressive components to activate early and establish itself as supreme."

Sam's mind was a cavalcade of ideas and new fears with the information the elder had supplied. Janet was a skilled physician, a decorated officer, but if she understood even half of what she was being told, her lover and single reason for living was in enormous danger.

Struggling, Sam managed to get one of her legs back over the side of the table. The pain was no less severe than when she'd laid down but as far as she was concerned she had little choice.

"I need to get to Janet," she countered as Terrill steadied her. "Can you show me how to penetrate the shielding?"

"I understand your concerns Samantha." the elder cautioned, "but it would be akin to assisted suicide to let you walk out of here in your state, nor frankly even if you were readily able."

Sam's mind had been made up minutes ago. She would simply adjust to the pain like she did everything else. What was paramount was that she found Janet as quickly as she could.

"Then I'm the one who is sorry," her voice raced, "because I have no choice."

"Even with your weapons you alone are no match for one of our people, let alone a society convinced their superiority lies in the color of their hair."

"Not to mention paranoid beyond your wildest dreams," Evyn added as she finally pushed off from the door.

"I can't just sit here and I am not prepared to return to my world without her," Sam retorted bitterly. "She is much more than simply my friend - she is…" She felt her face begin to grow hot from more than just her anger.

"We are…"

Terrill smiled at Sam not entirely comprehending the younger woman's discomfort.

"Of course she is," she told Sam.

Evyn activated the information console on the abandoned technician's desk.

"I will send word to the operatives we have in both our major city ports," she explained continuing to touch various buttons on the screen. "What happened to you is most likely the work of one of the splinter groups we have popping up everywhere now. They're marauders mostly and they won't want to hold onto a filio for long."

Sam's face paled, "a what?"

Inwardly the scout cursed. She exchanged another guarded look with the elder as she retrieved her weapon from the desk and walked towards the door. "I must go but I will return as soon as I have something to report."

As the chief scout departed another of the compound's inhabitants entered the room carrying a tray of food and drink. She appeared much younger than Terrill and the others Sam had seen so far, possibly the same age as Cassie give or take a year, but with platinum blonde hair trailing the length of her back and piercing eyes reminiscent to the shade of spring water. Wordlessly, the young girl sat the tray down on the table in front of Sam, removing the tray that Terrill had utilized to re-patch Sam's wound.

Terrill smiled affectionately at the girl as she carried out her task, exchanging unheard words and nods before the younger disappeared as quickly as she had came. None of the interactions was lost on Sam.

The elder was still smiling when Sam's words finally penetrated her ears.

"She's very pretty," Sam remarked casually.

"Yes," the elder agreed a sense of pride filling her words, "borne of my spouse during the last days of the great battle. She has lived behind these walls since she was no more than a baby and knows little of the world beyond either of the shields."

Sam was about to ask where Terrill's spouse was and more about the encoding they used to procreate, when the elder's features darkened somewhat, as if intercepting her thoughts.

With her voice barely above a whisper the elder spoke again, "…Her mother, Judah - was dark haired. She was captured and - killed - for crimes of deformation just days before the second shield emitters went on line."

Sam wasn't sure whether what she experienced next was real or not, only that for a few seconds, flashes of Terrill's enduring pain became palpable reaching out and washing over both women at once. Then just as quick, the imagery and sensations withdrew.

"You need your rest Samantha," Terrill reminded them both wearily breaking the uneasy quiet that had fallen. "The healing treatments we have applied still have several hours before they will be complete." She rose herself then, attempting another smile. "When you have rested, then we can talk about how we can find your Janet."

1.4.
Hours passed as Sam slept, allowing more progress in her recovery. When she did wake she found herself back in the room where she had come-to earlier that day.

Over the subsequent hours, as her injuries were completely healed by the Setti technology, she learned more and more from those who tended her wounds and offered her company. She was told about the introduction of the 'pleasure drug' into a world that revered its diverse though entirely female population, the realization of its mutation and ultimately the degeneration of its people to a point where they were now on the brink of self annihilation.

At a time when Sam would have been attending her second year of elementary school, the Setti world was destroying millenniums of tradition. Laws and customs were abolished -archaic beliefs and practices were replaced in their name.

She learned of the new government powers that were introduced that forbade filios or women who weren't genetically blonde from gaining work permits without consent from their Tregor genetically blonde spouse. Those filios without a spouse or Tregor relation were expected to fend for themselves, often as comfort girls that had prospered as the social and old government began to fall. Couplings without either possessing the 'superior' gene were dissolved, considered illegal and against natural design.

With a sickening fascination, Sam listened to it all, learning the language of the new existence and forcing both condemnation and repugnance back in her throat. Words created to divide a once peaceful and gentle race now became a weapon she would master as her plans formed.

Sam found herself studying the women she met much more closely after that, looking beyond regular characteristics such as hair and eye color to the deeper more concealed signs hollowing their stories. Many looked exhausted; expressionless other than the occasional hint of inflection she'd pick up whenever loved ones fortunate enough to have made it out were mentioned. Mostly there was no emotion, or smile. Mostly they delivered their information with little belief that a single stranger could understand.

The vast majority of them looked very similar in appearance to Terrill and Evyn and even Sam with their blonde hair and lighter skin tones, but several too resembled Janet with brownish hair and dark eyes. Although all their stories spoke of the terrible divide that had befallen them, regardless of appearances, they worked side by side without hint of separation.

When she wasn't listening, Sam dragged herself to one of the nearby research terminals and scanned the data files the compound had on the GEAR in both its original organic and its viral states.

'I know this,' she had whispered hypothesizing at what she saw.

She had asked to see Terrill again and together they reviewed the scenarios her people's scientists had run, toxicology results on the few subjects they had had a chance to study. For the first time in just as many years Terrill entertained a ray of hope that the cure, one they so desperately needed if they were to save their planet, may have simply walked through the 'gate'.

But it was still a long shot.

Later still into her stay, as the machines monitoring and assisting in her recovery were turned off, Sam allowed herself to acknowledge the whisper of connection forming between herself and the many she met. On one hand it felt impossible, almost ludicrous. On another it seemed like the most natural course. Here she was with the rare opportunity to study a race that had once prided themselves and honored in all ways possible something she had been forced to hide all her life.

At a different time Sam may have believed she'd discovered heaven, not the hell that it was.

But there was no liberty to ponder what she felt for Terrill and the others, what discovering this world could have meant for her. This world or any other would remain incomplete and un-inhabitable without Janet by her side. She focused back on what she was being told, collecting and storing each and every word, and holding her horror in check.

******

Almost 24 hours after Sam, Janet and their three colleagues had stepped onto the deceptively peaceful foreground of PX4 283; Sam made her final preparations to leave.

With the gate open and a transmission sent back to SGC to open the Iris, she let her eyes scan over the terrain fully revealed to her for the first time. In contrast to her arrival, the early morning sunlight heralded no unblemished countryside, no brilliant cloudless skies and certainly no smell of spring in the air.

To the North she could see the line of walls from the keeper's compound jutting almost angrily out approximately five hundred meters from the gate - behind it a defensive wall with sentry points uniformly spaced, occupied with scouts and heavy artillery ready for an attack. To the West, though distant, she could see dozens of small fires burning, throwing black mushroom smoke high into the sky. What remained of a roadway lay collapsed and dissected like an enormous concrete serpent to the South, burnt out and twisted wreckage littering at its base.

Sam paused a final moment casting her sights even further into the distance to the lands she had not yet seen directly East. She paused staring longer.

"I swear I'll be back for you," Sam whispered towards the unknown landscape. "I'll find you Janet and then I promise I'll take you home."

Turning her back Sam Carter bravely stepped through the gate alone.

Continued in part two.