Marking Time

Every part of her body ached. Her brain felt like someone had scrambled it with a whisk and then set off a nuclear bomb inside her skull. Her bottom lip trembled slightly and then was ruthlessly brought back under her control. Someone laid a wet cloth on her forehead and she relaxed as the pain began to ebb away.

“Take it easy, kid,” a voice from the Bronx said softly and Faith’s eyes snapped open, focussing on the shabbily dressed demon standing beside her bed.

“Whistler,” she recognised him immediately, despite never having met him.

“That’s me,” the balance demon confirmed, looking concerned as Faith pulled the cloth off her forehead and rolled out of bed to face him. “You sure you should be getting up?”

Ignoring him, Faith crossed to the forcefield keeping her in the prison. Still working, she confirmed, touching it with a finger.

“I mean,” continued Whistler. “You don’t look so good. Not that anyone could make that particular outfit look good,” he gestured at her BDU’s with an expression of disgust.

“Mallie?” Faith called, her back to him. “Kay! Ny!”

“They can’t hear us,” Whistler told her. “It’s just you and me, kid.”

That finally got a reaction out of Faith. Whirling around, she demanded, “Why me?” Prowling towards the hapless demon, she snarled, “Why not send B?”

Whistler gulped, glancing over his shoulder to gauge how much distance he had as he backed away from the enraged slayer. Why did they always send him to talk to the dangerous ones?

“Because she’d fail,” he told her honestly. “You really think the Cheerleader could lead these kids? C’mon! The Powers spent too many years moulding you into the perfect person to teach them what they need to know to survive to screw things up by-” Abruptly, Whistler stopped talking, all too aware that he’d just said too much and consequently endangered his future existence. His back hit the wall.

“What?” asked Faith, her voice deadly quiet and her face bone white.

“Ah...” Whistler nervously ran a finger along his collar. “I mean, ah, the Cheerleader wouldn’t have lasted one hour in a tent and you know it.” Faith flinched. Yeah, B woulda sweet-talked her way into actual rooms for them all, but dammit, she’d done the best she could! “Come to that,” Whistler continued regardless of Faith’s self-flagellation. “She wouldn’t have stepped foot off Earth without her friends, make-up bag, and a guaranteed way home and that would have mucked everything up. No, it had to be you. Besides, the Powers thought you might actually want a chance at redemption.”

Faith grabbed him by the throat and shook him. “How the fuck am I meant to redeem myself teaching innocent girls to murder people?” she screamed. “Tell me!”

Whistler choked incoherently.

Faith released him, flinging herself away to pace her cell, “So I get to earn my redemption by leading a buncha slayers into losing theirs? Very fucking righteous! No wonder you needed me! B wouldn’t have the stomach for it. These girls need a watcher dammit! Not a killer.” She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Whistler as a thought occurred to her, “The Powers moulded me?”

Wisely, Whistler disappeared. After all, the Powers hadn’t told him when he had to deliver his message, only that he had to. He’d come back later. When it wasn’t so hazardous to his health.

“Whistler!” Faith yelled. “Come back here you yellow-bellied son-of-a-bitch, or I swear, I’m gonna rip out your liver and make you eat it!”

“Faith?” Nya’s shocked voice came from further down the hallway.



With one last look at the cart rapidly receding into the distance, Daniel turned back to the Stargate with a sigh. His gaze immediately fell on the crate full of books, resting to one side of the Stargate. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he sighed again and moved towards to DHD. It had been difficult enough to persuade the carters to drive him here, despite Governor Meurik’s backing. Convincing them to stay while “Merlin’s Ring” was activated had proven impossible. Wondering how he was going to get the crate through the Stargate on his own, Daniel hit the last glyph of Earth’s address and watched the event horizon explode outwards. He began to type his code into the GDO he wore on his wrist.

“Doctor Jackson!” a breathless voice called behind him and he turned to see who it was. “Doctor Jackson!” the familiar girl running towards him called again. She skidded to a halt in front of him, the large black backpack she wore bobbing on its straps, “Thank goodness I caught you!” her eyes were wide as she stared above his shoulder, at the rippling Stargate behind him.

“Oh,” said Daniel, surprised to see a local who would voluntarily venture so close to the Stargate. “Um... hi. Valencia,” he hastily tacked on the end, remembering the girl’s name. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and blinked. “What’s wrong?”

Valencia tore her eyes away from the Stargate and focussed on him, “Nothing,” she said, sliding the backpacks straps from her shoulders. “I was afraid I would miss you again.”

“Again?” Daniel asked curiously.

Valencia nodded, “I was hunting with the men the last time you and the Colonels returned. This time I was training them in the forests. When word reached us that you had returned again, I set off at once.”

“Why?” wondered Daniel, baffled as to why she would go to so much effort.

“Faith left this behind,” Valencia told him, handing him the backpack. Daniel’s arm dropped like a stone as soon as he took the weight of the bag. “I was afraid that it might be important so I took it from Merlin’s Chamber to prevent it from being removed with his treasure. I meant to return it if you ever came back but,” she blushed slightly, dropping her head. “I was away.”

“Uh, thanks,” said Daniel, hefting the backpack over one shoulder. He glanced over the other at the open Stargate. He really had to go. As if on cue, his radio squawked into life.

“Doctor Jackson, are you alright?” General Landry asked.

“I’m fine,” Daniel replied into his radio. “Give me a minute,” he told the General, thinking wryly of the crate of books. An idea occurred and he looked up at Valencia. “I don’t suppose you could give me a hand?” he asked her, gesturing towards the crate.

She smiled widely, “Of course.”



Just to make a crappy day even worse, Anise showed up shortly after Whistler had left. Faith was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall and her head in her hands, fighting off the headache from her last encounter with the crazed alien scientist and wearily fending off questions from the peanut gallery when she heard the footsteps in the distance.

“Faith,” warned Kay.

“I hear her,” said Faith, struggling to her feet. “On your feet, guys. Showtime!”

As usual, Anise appeared from the right, ignoring Kay completely and walking directly to Faith’s cell. As usual she was carrying a zat’nik’tel but this time, Kay noticed, she was also wearing a hand device.

“Shit,” she exclaimed softly, her eyes on the gaudy piece of technology wrapped around Anise’s wrist. “Faith...”

“Got it,” Faith replied as Anise passed from the front of Kay’s cell to Faith’s.

“What is it?” Mallie wanted to know.

“Quiet!” Anise commanded in a metallic voice. Her eyes flashed as she looked Faith in the eye. “I will give you one last chance to return the knife to me before I proceed with the next phase of testing,” she offered Faith in more human-sounding tones. “Pain resistance,” she elaborated, bringing her hand up and spreading her fingers wide to display the Goa’uld device she wore.

“I’m ready for another go round if you are,” Faith told her, preparing herself for another attack by loosening her posture.

“Very well,” Anise said. She turned to the right and began to walk away.

“What are you doing?” Faith asked, panicked.

“Establishing a similar baseline for the other subjects,” Anise replied calmly, continuing to walk away. “Unless you have something to add to the discussion.”

Faith stared at her, hating her more than any other person in the galaxy, “Yes,” she ground out through gritted teeth, giving up. “Stop. I’ll get the fucking knife.”

“There,” said Anise, returning to her original position in the centre of the stretch of corridor that bordered Faith’s cell. “You see how easy it is?” Faith snarled at her as she pulled the knife out of its hiding place in her mattress. “If only you would be as co-operative in other areas it wouldn’t be necessary to-”

“Just fucking zat me already!” Faith interrupted belligerently.

Anise obliged.



“Welcome back, Doctor Jackson,” General Landry greeted the archaeologist as he seated himself at the head of the table. “How was Camelot?”

“Good,” Daniel told him. “Quiet.” So quiet, he’d even found himself missing Vala. “I saw Valencia before I came back. She gave me Faith’s backpack,” he rested his hand on the large backpack he’d brought into the briefing room with him.

Hank had wondered why it was there but showed no outward sign of it. Instead, he asked, “Any luck finding the location of Merlin’s weapon?”

“Not yet,” Daniel admitted. “But I did find a couple of references to Merlin’s library at Avalon. I’d like to go back to England and take another look at the artefacts recovered from the cave. See if there’s anything we missed first time.”

“We’ll need to get permission from the British government for that. I’ll speak to the IOA,” Hank promised him with a grimace. “In the meantime, we had a breakthrough of our own while you were away.”

“Really?”

“Mmm...” said Hank. “Ba’al stopped by to pay us a visit and stole the Stargate addresses that General O’Neill added to the database when he was possessed by the Ancient Repository. He seems to think that Merlin’s weapon is located on one of those planets.”

“But there are hundreds of addresses on that list,” Daniel told him.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Hank said dryly.



Jool hovered in the doorway to Colonel Carter’s office, watching the other woman stare at her computer screen. The sound was turned down low, but Jool could hear every word of her confrontation with Ba’al and it was enough to make her cringe. Reluctant to disturb her, Jool turned to go and her boot scraped against the floor. Instantly, Colonel Crater paused the recording, looking up. Jool smiled weakly at her.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam told her, waving her into the room. “What’s up?”

“It’s just...” Jool said. “I’ve been meaning to say... since I read your report... Thank you.”

“What for?” Sam asked her, confused.

“Saving my life,” Jool told her. She frowned when Colonel Carter continued to look confused, “When Ba’al threatened to kill me?”

“Oh, that!” Sam said, surprised. She would have done the same for anyone else, after all. “No problem. Don’t mention it.”

To avoid looking at the redhaired woman’s intense yellow gaze, Sam glanced away. Looking straight at her computer monitor, where the same redhaired woman was easily subduing Ba’al with one hand. “Jool,” she said slowly, looking up at the other woman as various pieces of a puzzle clicked into place. “Are you a slayer?”

Jool grinned, “Yes.”



His eyes trained on the contents of the folder General Landry had given him, Daniel wandered through the SGC hallways on autopilot, his feet automatically taking him towards his office. The folder contained the list of Ancient planets that Ba’al had stolen, and all the information the SGC had gathered on those planets in almost eight years. It wasn’t enough, he mused to himself. They had barely managed to visit a fraction of the planets, although probes had been sent to a few more. More probes were being sent now and General Landry had put in a request for more to be delivered to them. But Daniel firmly believed that it wouldn’t-

“Daniel,” a voice penetrated his abstraction.

“Ja-” Daniel automatically started to reply before warning bells rang. The inflection was right, but the voice was off. His head whipped around to spot the young man walking down the hallway, a much shorter man chattering away to him. “Jon?” he said disbelievingly as they disappeared around a corner.



Sam stared at Jool in shock, her mouth hanging open, “They teach demon biology at Oxford?” she asked incredulously.

Jool burst into giggles, her eyes dancing merrily as Daniel appeared in the doorway.

“Sam, why is Jack’s cl-” Daniel stopped talking abruptly as he registered the presence of a stranger in Sam’s office. “Uh, hi,” he said.

“Daniel!” Sam smiled widely at him. “When did you get back?”

“Just now,” Daniel told her with a sideways look at the redhead sat in front of her.

Sam belatedly remembered her manners, “This is Doctor Wilson of SG-13,” she introduced Daniel to Jool. “She’s a slayer. Jool, this is Daniel Jackson.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Jool said with a smile, standing and offering Daniel her hand. “Don’t tell anyone about the slayer thing,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially as they shook hands. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Uh, okay,” Daniel said, pushing his glasses up. “SG-13?” he frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a briefing?”

“Am I?” Doctor Wilson’s peridot eyes widened. “Since when?”

Walter’s voice floated out of the tannoy system, “Doctor Wilson to the briefing room. Doctor Wilson to the briefing room.”

“Since now, apparently,” said Sam, amusement warming her voice.

“No-one ever tells me anything,” Doctor Wilson grumbled with a smile as she left Sam’s office.

“She’s English,” Daniel remarked to Sam as he shut the door.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “She studied demon biology at Oxford.”

“Oxford University teaches demon biology?” Daniel allowed himself to be diverted briefly.

“Apparently,” Sam said with a smile.

Daniel’s smile disappeared as he sat down at the table in Sam’s lab. “Sam,” he said seriously. “What’s Jack’s clone doing here?”

“Oh,” said Sam, getting up from her desk. “You’ve seen him.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said as she took a seat at the table opposite him. “What’s going on?”

“Captain Jonathon O’Neil, one ‘l’,” Sam shared a wry look with her teammate, “Is the new leader of SG-13.”

“The team set up by Buffy Summers to search for Faith?” Daniel had to double-check.

“Yep,” said Sam succinctly; she’d had more time to get used to the news.

“Wonder how Jack managed to swing that,” mused Daniel.

Sam shrugged, “The General isn’t returning my calls,” she told him. “I’ve left messages.”

Ten years and she was still calling Jack by his rank. Daniel wondered if they would ever admit their feelings for one another as he asked, “What about the mission file?”

“Still classified,” Sam told him. “And those who know aren’t talking for once.”

“Does Mitchell know?” Daniel asked.

“No.”

“General Landry?”

“Nope.”

“Damn!” uncharacteristically, Daniel swore.

Sam nodded. “Yep,” she agreed.



Jon found himself wondering whose bright idea it had been to put a clock in the briefing room when all it did was drive everyone crazy with its ticking. After over a month, he was starting to get used to his team. Andrew, currently raving over Johnny Depp’s performance in the latest Pirates of the Caribbean movie, was the enthusiastic one: Oz, wearily listening to Andrew’s gushing, was the monosyllabic one: and the Doc was the late one; how it was possible for a person who lived on the base to show up late for every briefing he didn’t know. At the head of the table, Hank was sitting in a brooding silence. So far, no-one had mentioned the large backpack on the table.

“Sorry!” the Doc apologised, cringing as she rushed into the room. “Sorry. I didn’t know there was a briefing,” her gaze settled on the backpack as she sat down and she asked curiously, “What’s that?”

“It’s Faith’s,” Oz said as Hank opened his mouth to speak.

“Really?” asked Andrew, perking up.

“Where did you get it?” Jon asked Hank.

“Doctor Jackson brought it back with him from Camelot,” Hank told him stiffly. “Captain.”

“What do we do with it?” the Doc asked.

“Open it!” Andrew suggested eagerly. Everyone looked at Hank.

“Don’t look at me,” he blustered. “I just work here. It’s your job to deal with anything to do with Faith.”

“So...” Oz said as his teammates all tried to look at each other at once. “We open it?”

Jon’s brown eyes met Oz’s blue. “We open it,” Jon decided. “Doc?”

“Why does Jool get to do it?” whined Andrew as she pulled the backpack towards her.

“Because she’s female,” Jon snapped at him and Andrew subsided, crushed, as the Doc opened the backpack.



At least her headache was gone when she woke up, even if the rest of her problems weren’t. Locked in a cell? Check. Responsible for three other slayers, also locked up? Check. Lost somewhere in the galaxy with no clue how to get home? Definitely check. Her life sucked more than vampires.

Okay, that was it. If she was conscious enough to make B-worthy puns, she was conscious enough to get up. Faith levered her eyelids open and pushed herself up off the floor with limbs that were numb. Only to flop back down onto the floor when she realised that she had nowhere to go.

Anise had provided a tray of food as normal. Staring, Faith could feel an unbearable rage building deep in her chest. How fucked up was it that she considered anything in this screwed-up situation normal! Growling deep in her throat, Faith swiped at the tray, sending it clattering across the floor to bounce off the forcefield keeping her imprisoned, the contents flying in all directions.

It wasn’t enough.

With an animalistic roar, Faith erupted to her feet and set about systematically destroying everything in her cell. Sometime in the middle of ripping her bed apart, Faith realised that she was screeching obscenities at the top of her lungs. She didn’t care.

She ran out of furniture to destroy long before she ran out of aggression. Clenching her fists tightly, she tipped her head back, swaying as she stood in the middle of the wreckage of her cell, and screamed at the ceiling.

Collapsing to the floor, the Dark Slayer wept.



“Okay,” Jon said, looking the possessions stacked in neat piles on the briefing room. At least the Doc had had the taste to stuff the more feminine items out of sight. “What have we learned?”

“She’s got her knife?” Andrew offered hopefully.

“And precious little else!” the Doc said bitterly, her eyes on the meagre piles.

“Huh. These are dead,” Oz commented, inspecting Faith’s IPod and phone.

“We’ve got the chargers,” the Doc reminded him. She frowned, “Both of them?”

“Weird,” agreed Oz, nodding at her.

“Why?” asked Hank.

“Well, why didn’t Faith turn her IPod off?” she asked.

“Maybe the battery ran out before she left Earth,” Andrew suggested.

“Maybe...” the Doc said doubtfully.

“All this stuff’s got someone else’s scent on it,” Oz told them, gesturing at the table.

“What?” exclaimed Jon. “Whose?”

Oz’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. “Some girl’s,” he shrugged. “Don’t recognise it.”

“Valencia,” Hank told them, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. “The native who returned the bag to Doctor Jackson.”

“So... she opened Faith’s bag and went through her stuff why?” Andrew asked him.

“Curiosity?” offered Jon. “It has been known to kill cats.”

“More importantly,” said the Doc. “What do we do with all of this now?”

Jon reached out and picked up one of the first items that had come out of Faith’s backpack, turning the creased envelope with the logo of a motel chain and a B scrawled on the front over in his hands. It was strange how seeing Faith’s belongings spread out on the briefing room table finally made her seem like a real person. He’d never met her, only seen two pictures of her; and his team weren’t exactly falling over themselves to tell stories about her. Why was she so important to Buffy Summers? And why was Faith’s title the Dark Slayer? These were things, Jon realised, that he needed to know.

He’d been too wrapped up in the emotions stirred up by his return to the SGC – in trying to mould his new team into a second SG-1. But SG-1 still existed and he wasn’t Jack O’Neill, even if he had his memories. SG-13 was there on sufferance, at the President and the IOA’s insistence, to bring Faith-

“Are you sure we can’t open it?” whined Andrew, his eyes on the envelope Jon held.

“No!” Jon told him. “I mean, yes,” he tossed the envelope onto the table. “Pack it up,” he said. “We’ll send it to Buffy.”

Andrew pouted but the Doc immediately began to neatly pack all of Faith’s belongings away. It was clear it wasn’t going to take long. Jon winced. He’d lived out of a bag far too often not to recognise the signs of someone doing the same. How old was Faith? The eyes of the woman in the photos he’d seen were old, but her face was young.

He turned to Hank before the Doc had finished in an effort to distract himself, “So when are we going to try dialling Langara again, sir?”

“You’ve got a slot scheduled for fourteen hundred,” Hank told him. He turned to the Doc, “I presume Mr Osbourne is fit to resume work?”

“Oh, yes,” said the Doc, fastening Faith’s backpack. “I discharged him earlier.”



Vala was rooting through the crate of books he had brought back from Camelot. The lithe brunette was bent right over, her pert posterior waving in the air as she dug through the crate. His irritation rising, Daniel entered his office.

“Vala...” he sighed.

She straightened, spinning around to face him. “Daniel!” she said with a wide smile. “I heard you were back...”

“What are you doing?” Daniel asked wearily.

“Well, you weren’t here,” Vala told him. “And I was bored and then two lovely airmen delivered this crate and I thought; I know! I’ll unpack it for you and then you’ll be even more pleased to see me than you were,” she smiled perkily at him.

“You were looking for treasure, weren’t you?” Daniel sighed, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe a little,” Vala admitted sheepishly.



Cam watched as Walter entered the dialling sequence for Langara. In the Gateroom below, SG-13 fidgeted as they waited to leave Earth. It looked like Andrew Wells was doing some last minute reading on Langara, clutching a fistful of papers. Cam really hoped he wasn’t planning on taking them off-world. Ah, nope... Captain O’Neil had taken them off him, with a light cuff to the back of the head and was handing them to one of the airmen stationed to guard the room. God, he hoped they found her!

The Stargate activated with a kawoosh and General Landry leaned forward over the microphone, “Langara, this is Stargate Command,” he said.

General Landry glanced back as the silence on the other end stretched, his eyes meeting Cam’s. Cam could feel his stomach sinking with every second that passed as the General turned back to the microphone.

“Langara, please respond,” General Landry requested.

Nothing. Cam inched forward. Sir,” he said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

In the Gateroom SG-13 had quietened down, staring up at the control room with anxious faces as they waited for the order to go. General Landry looked at Walter.

“Send the MALP through,”

“Yes, sir,” Walter said.

Cam kept his eyes on the camera feed from the MALP as it trundled up the ramp and disappeared, the picture turning to static as the camera entered the Stargate. Long seconds passed before it reformed, the camera shaking wildly as the MALP came under fire.

“Whoa!” Cam exclaimed, catching sight of something before the feed disappeared. “Can you play that back?” he asked a technician as General Landry ordered Walter to shut off the Stargate.

“What is it?” General Landry asked as the technician obliged.

“Pause it,” Cam told the technician.

“Are they using Ori staff weapons?” General Landry asked incredulously.

“That’s not all, sir,” Cam told him. He pointed to a corner of the screen, “See there?”

“That’s a Prior,” General Landry said, and his voice was filled with dread.

Entering the room with his team just behind him, Jon was just in time to hear this last statement.

“Aw, crap!”



By the time the others woke up from their zat-induced comas, Faith once again had herself under control. She’d begun to tidy up the ruins of the furniture she’d destroyed, salvaging her mattress and sheets from the debris of her bed and spreading them on the floor so that she had somewhere to sleep later. She was pretty sure that the toilet gadget thing was dead though.

It was while she was stacking the pieces of her bed in one corner of the room that Faith had a moment of revelation so clear and strong that she dropped the metal parts that she was carrying. The racket they made as they hit the crystal floor sparked a round of frantic questions, but Faith ignored them, holding on to the thread of thought that led back to her realisation.

“I’m fine!” she snapped as the questions reached a crescendo. The others subsided, perhaps realising that she had more important things on her mind. More likely, they didn’t want to be verbally flayed for continuing to pester her.

Faith stared at the pile of bed parts, the germ of an idea burgeoning in her mind. Anise might have taken the knife from her but she hadn’t removed everything metal from her cell. A bed was a pretty standard design, no matter where you went in the galaxy and this bed was no exception. And it was made out of metal.

The slats on which the mattress normally sat were thin metal rods. Faith picked one up and studied it carefully, turning it over in her hands. It was flimsy, she could easily tie it into a knot if she wanted to, but it might be enough. Experimentally, she slammed it into the wall.

It crunched through the indigo crystal and buried itself inches deep into whatever was beyond it. Getting it out without damaging the wall further was more difficult. Sand trickled out of the hole and onto the floor for a moment. Faith scuffed it into the floor.

Now she just had to hope that Anise would be too shocked by the state of her cell to notice one small hole in the wall. And that she replaced the toilet at least.

Feeling more positive than she had in days, Faith dropped the metal bar, scraping the pile of metal closer together with her foot and turning to face the forceshield that was all that was keeping her from freedom and her slayers.

“Okay!” she called out. “First one to two thousand push-ups gets to ask me a question about Earth.”



Dinner that night was excellent. Obviously Andrew was still upset about their mission being cancelled. Consequently, the usually terrible meals provided by the SGC kitchens were replaced by a choice of either boeuf bourguignon, spaghetti meatballs with Andrew’s special sauce or beer-battered cod and chips with either a crème brulee or an individual tower of profiteroles for dessert. It was the best meal Jool had had since she had arrived at the SGC and she was heartily enjoying it until a shadow fell across her table. Looking up, she smiled at Caroline Lam.

“Got a minute?” the Chief Medical Officer of the SGC asked her.

“Of course,” Jool told her, gesturing to the seat opposite her. “What’s the matter?”

Caroline waited until she was seated before she spoke, “Did you certify Daniel Osbourne as fit to return to work this morning?”

“Yep!” Jool said brightly. “First thing.”

“You can’t do that without my authorisation,” Caroline told her.

“Sorry,” Jool apologise. “I didn’t know. You can authorise it now, right? No big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Caroline told her. “Oz needs sick leave to recuperate...”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Yes he does.”

“Why?” Jool asked. “He’s perfectly healthy since the full moon...”

“A number of reasons,” said Caroline. “Time to recover from the psychological trauma, the fact that everyone else affected by the canine plague is currently off with at least two weeks sick leave...”

“I’m not,” pointed out Jool.

“But you should be,” Caroline told her. “Look, I know that you need to blend in while you’re here so I’m signing the whole of SG-13 off for two weeks. You and Oz shouldn’t be here anyway and Captain O’Neil and Andrew have barely left the base since Oz was brought in.”

“You can’t do that,” Jool said urgently. “Caroline, we need to plan how we’re going to get to Langara before Faith moves on. Three days sick leave.”

“Ten,” bartered Doctor Lam.

“Five,” Jool countered.

“Seven.”

“Done!” Jool agreed and they shook on it. Looking down at her plate, Jool heaved a big sigh. “I guess I’ll just finish my dinner and shuffle off to my room for the night. God knows how I’m going to keep myself occupied for a week.”

“You could try looking for a house to move into,” Caroline suggested, stealing one of Jool’s chips.

“It’d help if I could drive to work first,” Jool pointed out, defending the rest of the chips on her plate with her fork. “I don’t suppose you could give me a couple of le-”

“No!” refused Caroline, remembering what had happened on Jool’s one and only driving lesson to date.

“I’m not that bad,” Jool protested.

“You are,” Caroline told her.

Jool poked her tongue out at her boss and the two of them burst into giggles. Caroline took advantage of Jool’s distraction to steal a few more chips and Jool protested half-heartedly. Caroline forgot about meals too often, she thought to herself, oblivious to the fact that she herself kept a large supply of sweets hidden in her room and office for the occasions when she too forgot to eat. Her eyes flickered to the door as another late-working SGC member came in for their meal and then dropped back down to the table.

“Looking for someone?” Caroline asked casually. Too casually. Her new boss-cum-friend had been quietly determined to discover if Jool was interested in any of the men stationed at the base. It seemed as though Caroline liked to play the matchmaker in her spare time. Jool got the distinct feeling that if she didn’t declare a preference soon, Caroline would find one for her.

“Just wondering where Vala is,” Jool told her. “I haven’t seen her since this morning. SG-1 aren’t off-world, are they?”

“No, but you probably won’t be seeing much of her from now on,” Caroline informed her. “Doctor Jackson’s back from Camelot,” she added when Jool looked confused. “Vala’s probably busy propositioning him right now.”

“Meow!” Jool exclaimed and Caroline flushed slightly. “I know you don’t like Vala much, but she’s not that bad.”

“Oh, she really is,” Caroline told her, getting up. “I’d better get back to the infirmary. Remember! I don’t want to see you there for a week.”

Jool sighed, “I remember.”

Watching Caroline go, Jool wondered what she would do with a week off. Ever since she had moved into the base, her days had revolved around a combination of the infirmary and her team, with the occasional trip off-world and rarer trips to the surface. Now she would have to find a way to occupy herself that had nothing to do with the base she lived on. Tricky...



Faith tried very hard not to grin at Anise’s face when the Tok’ra saw the pile of scrap metal cluttering up Faith’s cell. The dark-haired scientist looked as though she’d just seen her first vampire rise from the grave. Faith smirked as Anise remained speechless.

“The toilet died too,” she told Anise, jerking her thumb at the alien contraption that lay in several pieces next to the ruins of her bed.

“What...?” Anise managed to say. “Why?”

“Got bored,” Faith told her with a shrug.

She had refused to stand up for her captor and lay on her mattress, her back propped up against the wall and her legs crossed at the ankle. Now though, she stood, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. “Hey,” she said. “As long as we’re here, any chance of a shower?” she sniffed the collar of her jacket and grimaced. “I’m starting to smell like shit.”

When she woke up Anise had thrown a bucket of water over her. She’d also replaced the bed and toilet.



“Hi, it’s me... um, Jool. Uh, just to let you know, there’s no point coming in tomorrow, or, um, today if you’re getting this in the morning. Caroline’s signed us all off sick for a week... I guess that’s it. Uh, bye.”

The message ended with click as the Doc hung up and Jon’s answering machine announced the end of his messages. Still in the boxers he’d slept in, Jon deleted his only message and swung towards his bedroom to pick up his cell phone and find out what the hell was going on. Why was SG-13 getting sick leave now?



SG-1 waited in the briefing room for General Landry to join them. The meeting had been scheduled to start five minutes ago but the General was still in his office, arguing loudly with someone on the phone. The teammates carefully avoided each other’s gaze as they all tried to look as though they weren’t eavesdropping. All except Vala that is, who was clearly listening avidly.

“For the last time, Captain,” General Landry’s exasperated voice drifted clearly out of his office. “No!”

The crash of the telephone hitting the receiver echoed into the briefing room and General Landry entered the room. Cam and Sam got to their feet, only sitting back down once the General had seated himself.

“Problem, sir?” Cam asked him.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Landry told him tersely. “Now... how goes the exploration of the planets on the Ancient repository list?”

“Slowly, sir,” Sam reported. “We’ve barely managed to cover a fraction of the planets on the list.”

“We need more UAV’s, sir,” said Cam. “Our supply is starting to run low.”

“I’ve put in an order,” General Landry told him. “They should arrive sometime next Tuesday. Doctor Jackson, any luck eliminating some of the planets?”

Daniel shook his head, “Not yet, sir. The problem is that we don’t actually know what Merlin’s weapon looks like. Without knowing that, it’s almost impossible to rule any planet out.”

“We know that it’s a small ball about so big,” Vala pointed out, measuring a gap between her thumb and forefinger.

“Yes,” Daniel said with exasperation, “But trying to find something the size of a ping pong ball on a planet would be like... like...”

“Attempting to discover a needle within a haystack?” suggested Teal’c.

“Exactly!” Daniel said triumphantly. Teal’c’s words sunk in and he stared at the Jaffa with open-mouthed surprise. Teal’c’s grasp of colloquialisms had certainly improved over the years, he thought to himself. Teal’c smirked slightly at him, looking pleased with himself.

“Why would anyone want to find a needle in a haystack?” Vala asked, confused.

Daniel ignored her, “The point is that I need more information. General, has there been any word from the British government?”

“Yes,” General landry told him. “They’ve given you permission to examine the treasure retrieved from Avalon.”

Vala perked up, “I’ll help!” she volunteered.

“No!” General Landry and Daniel spoke at the same time.

“They’ve restricted access to just Doctor Jackson,” Hank lied to her. Better that than risk an international incident. Vala pouted but dropped the subject. Hank hesitated before he brought up the next topic, glancing at Colonel Mitchell, “While you’re in England,” he said to Doctor Jackson. “I need you to deliver a package to the Watchers Council.”

Cam’s ears pricked up at the mention of the Watchers Council and he wondered what General Landry needed delivering there. He didn’t have long to wait to find out.

“Faith’s bag?” Daniel double-checked and General Landry nodded at him.

“What bag?” Cam asked, frowning.

“Ooh, I know!” said Vala. “Daniel brought Faith’s bag back from Camelot, right? And it had a letter to someone called Buffy!”

Cam stared at her, wondering how it was that she was always more informed than him. And he was supposed to be the second-in-command at the base.

“I told you,” Jackson said to him with a confused frown.

“Uh,” said Sam. “You told us,” she glanced at Teal’c.

“Twice,” the large Jaffa added.

“Oh,” Daniel grimaced at Mitchell in apology.

“Who names their child Buffy?” Vala asked them.

“I believe it was her mother,” Teal’c deadpanned.

“People!” said General Landry, attracting their attention. “We’re getting off topic.”

Suitably chastised, SG-1, and their probationary member, turned their focus to the tricky problem of fighting a superiorly armed enemy whilst simultaneously searching for a weapon that would destroy their power base. Most of the points raised in the discussion were ones which had been mentioned before; at this point all they could really do was watch, wait and react. In the end the only thing that was resolved was that they would continue to do what they were doing. The meeting ended, they began to gather up their things, only to be stopped by General Landry.

“One last thing,” he said to them and they stopped to see what he had to say. “You all work too hard,” he told them. Colonel Mitchell opened his mouth to speak and Hank cut him off, “And don’t try and tell me that you don’t, because you know you do. So I’ve decided to give you all an enforced leave of absence, starting Friday.”

“What?” said Carter. “Why?”

“Because you work too damn hard,” Hank told her. “To make sure you take it, and don’t spend your time thinking of ways to sneak back on base to work on your various projects,” Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson promptly looked guilty, “I’ll be accompanying you.” Hank looked at his premier team with satisfaction as they stared back at him with varying degrees of shock and disbelief. They hadn’t seen that coming. “Dismissed.”

Still in shock, they filed out of the room. Smiling, Hank pushed himself out of his seat, walking into his office and closing the door behind him. His smile fell away and he sighed heavily as he caught sight of the person waiting there for him.

“You’re supposed to be on sick leave,” he said, sitting down heavily behind his desk. First he had had Captain O’Neil on the phone, arguing his case to get SG-13 reinstated on the mission list. Now it was apparently Doctor Wilson’s turn.

“I know,” she said. “And I am, honest.”

“But...?” anticipated Hank.

“It’s really more of a slayer query,” Doctor Wilson told him. “I was just wondering... What’s happening to Faith’s bag?”

Hank looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to ask that. “Doctor Jackson is leaving for England tonight. He’s going to deliver it to the Watchers Council. Now, if that’s all...?” he left his last sentence hanging, waiting expectantly for her to leave.

“Oh... um, okay,” she said, backing towards the door. “Thank you, General.”

“You’re welcome,” Hank dryly told her, but she was already gone.



Jool could hear the phone in her room ringing as soon as she turned onto her corridor. She hurried towards her room, hoping to catch whoever was calling her before they rang off. She knew it was a futile effort however, and she was proved right when the phone stopped ringing as soon as she opened her door. Typical.

Jool let her door swing shut with a sigh and then jumped when the telephone rang loudly. Again? Either whoever was trying to get hold of her was desperate, or there was an apocalypse.

Jool snatched up the phone, “What’s wrong?”

“Where the hell have you been?” the irate voice of Captain Jonathon O’Neil floated down the phone line. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours.”

Jool glanced at her watch, “I’ve only been gone for twenty minutes.”

“Never mind,” he said impatiently. “Listen, the General won’t let us back on base until next week but that doesn’t mean we can’t plan what we’re going to do when we do. Get back.”

“Right,” Jool agreed as he faltered awkwardly.

“So here’s what I need you to do!” he told her. “Grab hold of everything you can about Langara. If anyone asks why, tell them you were doing some light reading on Hok’taurs and Jonas Quinn’s name came up. In fact, grab Jonas’ file too. Ask Walter to arrange a car to take you to my place tonight. Tell him we’re having a movie night or something.”

“Alright,” said Jool, wondering who Jonas Quinn was and what he had to do with Langara. And what was a hoktor when it was at home?

“And find out what the Daedalus’ schedule is,” he ordered and she had to resist the urge to snap off a salute. Ah, feck it! He couldn’t see her. “I think that’s everything. Oh! Faith’s backpack...”

“Doctor Jackson’s going to deliver it to the Council tomorrow,” Jool told him, pleased to be contributing actual sentences to the conversation.

“Oh.” There was silence from the Captain for a moment. Then, “Why Da-Doctor Jackson?”

Jool frowned, puzzled by the reason behind the question. “I don’t know,” she told him.

“Cool. Cool...” he replied. “Well I guess I better phone the guys and tell them to get their butts round here tonight. ‘Bout eight?”

“Eight o’clock,” Jool nodded.

He hung up. Jool stared at the telephone receiver for a moment before returning it to its cradle. She frowned. Once again she was left with questions about his past. Who was Jonas Quinn and had he really been about to call Doctor Jackson Daniel or was it just her imagination? She shrugged. At least she had something to do today.



His eyes closed, Oz played his guitar. The whole day stretched before him. A whole week if necessary. Just him, his guitar and a new chord to learn. Bliss. He smiled.

The phone rang.



Andrew was picking out new curtains when his cell phone rang. Digging the vibrating phone out of his pocket, he ignored the way that people edged away from him as the Wormhole X-Treme theme emanated from his person, too busy wondering why he was getting a work call when he was off sick. One look at the caller display explained everything.

“Hi Jon!” he answered his phone chirpily. “Do you think navy blue or chocolate brown curtains would look better in my bedroom?”

“What?” Jon asked him. “Never mind. What are you doing tonight?”

“I was thinking about checking out a club,” Andrew told him. “Ooh! You want to come with?”

“Forget it,” Jon said ruthlessly. “Movie night, my place.”

“Um, okay,” Andrew agreed. “You want me to bring popcorn?”

“Bring beer,” advised Jon.

“I really like the flower detail on the brown ones.”

“Get the blue.”



All things considered, the infirmary was probably Cam’s least favourite place to be. The smell alone conjured up all the old feelings of helplessness he’d experienced learning to walk again after his crash in Antarctica. Add to that all the time he’d spent practically chained to a bed in the place since he’d joined the SGC and was it any wonder that he hated the place? But after dropping his pen six times in the five minutes they’d been waiting for General Landry earlier, he’d reluctantly decided to get himself checked out. Again. He felt like a hypochondriac.

“Colonel Mitchell!”

At least Doctor Lam looked surprised to see him. Cam smiled awkwardly at her as she bustled towards him. Thankfully the infirmary was mostly empty for the first time since SG-1 had returned from Atlantis so Cam only had to endure the curious looks of a couple of airmen and Sergeant Siler.

“What can I do for you?” Doctor Lam asked him curiously, her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat.

“I keep getting pins and needles,” Cam confessed in a low voice.

“Where?” looking concerned, Doctor Lam steered him over to a nearby bed and sat him down.

“All over,” Cam told her.

She frowned, fitting her stethoscope over her ears and placing the chest piece over his heart. She listened for a while, still frowning, and then pulled the ear buds out. “Since when?” she asked.

Cam thought about it. When had it started? “I guess, since my blackout on P4Y-682?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Caroline asked him, horrified.

He shrugged, “We were busy and, to be honest Doc, it’s not exactly a regular thing.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, taking a step back and hanging onto her temper by sheer force of will. She beckoned a nurse over, “We’ll take some blood and then start with an ECG.”



His feet made no sound as he walked down the hallway towards the Slayer’s cell. The slayer in the first cell was awake but engrossed in a series of rapid sit-ups, her back to the forcefield. Not that it would have made a difference if she had been facing the other way. The glamour concealing him would have protected him from her attention anyway. He didn’t bother to check on the other two slayers further down the passage. Whether they were awake or not, it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t hear anything that passed between him and his latest assignment.

She’d got her act together since the last time he’d visited her and found herself something to dig an escape tunnel with. She hadn’t got very far from the look of things. She was having difficulty hiding the sand she was scooping out by the cupful.

Whistler stood and watched her work for a moment. She’d do alright, this one. She was a fighter. Now if only he could get it through her thick head that The Powers were only trying to help her... Okay, so they weren’t so much trying to help her as they were trying manipulate her into position to save the galaxy, but the principle was the same.

“You’re better with them than you think,” he told her, thinking about the slayers that followed her and those yet to come.

Faith snarled and lunged for him with the metal rod she had been using to dig her tunnel.

“I wouldn’t-” Whistler started to warn her. She bounced off the forcefield. “Ooh!” Whistler winced. “That had to hurt.”

“What the fuck do you want?” she growled at him, picking herself up off the floor.

“C’mon Slayer, did you really think I just popped in to tell you you were destined to lead these kids?” Whistler scoffed. “I thought you’d heard of me. I’m a messenger for The Powers That Be, kid. When I show up it means they’ve got something important to say.”

“I don’t suppose delivering this message involves shutting off this forcefield and letting me and my girls out, does it?” asked Faith, her voice dangerously sweet.

“Sorry, no,” said Whistler, not looking the slightest bit sorry. “This is one mess you’re gonna have to get yourself out of. You’ve really gotta stop letting other people do your dialling for you, you’re running way behind schedule.”

“Just say what you came here to say and get the fuck out of here,” Faith told him forcefully.

“I am,”” Whistler told her. He sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of the brown jacket he wore, “It’s like talking to a brick wall. Where’s a bottle of whiskey when you need one?”

Faith glared at him.

“Oh,” said Whistler, realising. “Yeah, sorry. Where was I?”

“I’m behind schedule,” Faith spat out the words.

“Yeah... They can’t keep shielding the slayers forever, you know,” Whistler informed her. “You gotta get to them before Adria.”

“Why?” Faith wanted to know. “Why does she want them so much?”

“You kidding me?” Whistler asked her, his face sombre. “The worship of a slayer? Talk about a power boost!”

“How the fuck am I meant to beat her with only three slayers when she’s got whole armies of humans?” demanded Faith, agitatedly pacing her cell.

“Did you miss the part where I told you that you had to hurry up and get to the other slayers?” Whistler asked her sarcastically. It was amazing the amount of courage that could be found when there was a forcefield between you and the enraged slayer you’d been sent to point in the right direction. “Don’t sweat the humans.”

“Don’t sweat them?” Faith said incredulously and Whistler was suddenly very grateful for that forcefield.

“Yeah,” he hesitated, trying to think of the right words to explain it. “Think of it this way... Each a the soldiers in Adria’s army worships the Ori, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed reluctantly.

“And that worship feeds power to the Ori, right?”

“Right.”

“Then every one of their followers that you kill, slay really, weakens the Ori,” reasoned Whistler. “You’re not killing humans, you’re slaying the Ori.”

“Semantics!” she accused and Whistler was impressed. He wouldn’t have thought she knew the meaning of the word.

“Think of it as a dispensation,” he advised, tipping his hat to her and preparing to leave.

“What about Adria?” Faith called out suddenly and Whistler stopped, turning back around to face her.

“Don’t worry about Adria,” he told her. “It’s not your job to fight her,” Faith could have sworn she heard him mutter “yet” but she couldn’t be sure. “We’ve got other people working on that. You’ve just got to stop her from getting to Earth.”

She should have said “How?” and she kicked herself later for not, but he was walking away and the one thing she desperately wanted to know was, “Who?”

“Who do you think?” he called back as he disappeared from sight.

“Cam...” Faith whispered to herself, allowing herself to dwell on memories of his bright blue eyes and the shape of his lips; the way that the wind had ruffled his hair on the two occasions she had seen him outdoors... the way he had tasted when he kissed her...

Clenching the metal rod tightly, she whirled and strode back to the tunnel she was digging behind her toilet with a renewed sense of purpose. She was getting out of there!





“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” said Doctor Lam, clearly frustrated. “You’re completely healthy.”

“Then why the pins and needles?” Cam asked.

“There’s no medical reason for it,” Doctor Lam shrugged. “It’s possible that it could be lingering after-effects of your exposure to the Mind-Melder but it’s difficult to know for sure. Has Colonel Carter made any progress with it? Is there anything to suggest that it might still be active?”

“Far as I know it’s still gathering dust in Daniel Osbourne’s office,” Cam told her. “Sam wanted to take a look at it after the whole thing on P4Y-682 but she wasn’t comfortable with just taking it while he was in the infirmary.”

“I see,” said Doctor Lam, frowning. “Well, Colonel, you’re free to leave,” she stepped aside slightly with a smile.

“Thanks Doc,” said Cam, hopping down from the bed.

Frowning, Caroline watched him go. There were far too many medical anomalies about Colonel Mitchell occurring for her peace of mind. Take his Ancient gene for example; her machines still weren’t able to detect it, and although it was true that Doctor Beckett had used Ancient technology to discover it, her machines could detect that there was something wrong with that sequence of the Colonel’s DNA. It wasn’t anything that she could put her finger on, it was still the Colonel’s DNA, but it had changed somehow sometime between the baseline map sequenced for him when he had first joined the SGC and the genome maps she was doing for him now.

And now there were these random outbreaks of pins and needles. Try as she might, Caroline couldn’t escape the feeling that this was all tied to the Mind-Melder and Faith. She made a mental note to speak to her father about it and then hurried off to her next patient.



Standing in the empty elevator, Daniel frowned. He had a nagging feeling that he’d forgotten something, but what was it? He had all the texts he should need... his suitcase was in the trunk of his car... Faith’s heavy backpack was slung over one shoulder... Deep in his abstraction, Daniel failed to notice the elevator slowing and the doors opening on level twenty five. It took a familiar voice to jolt him out of his preoccupation.

“Sneaking out in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye?” pouted Vala, entering the elevator. “I thought that you were better than that, Daniel darling.”

“Vala...” Daniel sighed wearily. He knew he had forgotten something. “I meant to stop by...”

“Of course you did, Daniel,” Vala told him brightly. “That’s why I had to track you down myself.”

“What do you want?” Daniel asked her tiredly.

His lacklustre response barely threw Vala for a microsecond, hurt flickering briefly in her eyes before she banished it with a slight laugh. “Can’t a girl come and see a guy off?” she asked with a leering wink.

“Vala...” Daniel groaned. He had a long flight ahead of him and he was too tired for Vala’s heavy-handed flirting. Fortunately the elevator doors opened on level eleven and he could make his escape.

“Have fun in England!” Vala called after him, a slight thread of wistfulness running through her voice. On second thought... “Not too much!” she shouted as the doors slid shut. She sighed at her reflection as the elevator began to descend. “Be safe,” she whispered forlornly.



The bags of beer he was carrying dragged at Andrew’s arms as he waited for Jon to answer his door. He shifted his feet, glancing over his shoulder at the deserted road behind him. Why couldn’t Jon have scheduled movie night to begin before sunset? Because he hadn’t grown up in Sunnydale, Andrew supposed.

The door opened and Jon stood there, dressed in jeans and a charcoal shirt. “Hey,” he said and stood to one side of the door. At least he knew not to invite anyone in, thought Andrew.

“Hi,” Andrew returned the greeting, entering the house and giving his bags to Jon. “I got popcorn as well. You didn’t say not to.”

“Cool,” Jon was inspecting the contents of the bags. “Oz and the Doc are already here.”

Following Jon into the living room, Andrew was surprised to see that his other teammates weren’t poring over Jon’s eclectic DVD collection. Instead, Oz was hunched over a laptop and Jool was studying papers that she’d spread over the coffee table. The TV wasn’t even on! Instead, some opera was playing in the background.

“The more I think about this,” Jool said meditatively, “The more I think Caroline did us a favour.”

“How?” asked Oz.

“Well, I know that the Daedalus is due back tomorrow, but don’t forget that it’s scheduled for an immediate overhaul of its hyperdrive engine,” Jool reminded them. “Now we probably could have made a case for requisitioning it and going to Langara as soon as the Daedalus arrived but we’d be risking the hyperdrive malfunctioning or something. And I asked around and the overhaul is only supposed to take a week.”

“It still sucks,” Jon told her flatly, opening a beer.

“What happened to movie night?” Andrew asked plaintively.

“Change of plan,” Jon told him, handing him a beer.



Hearing the footsteps in the distance, Faith had the toilet back in position and the metal bar and the last few loads of sand safely hidden by the time Anise arrived, giving her just enough time to throw herself into a relaxed pose on her new bed. Her hip sank slightly into the gap she’d ripped out of the mattress poles and she smiled innocently at Anise.

“That time already?” she asked her with faux-pleasantry.

Anise, exhausted by the irregular hours she was putting into her experiments, trying to break down the girls’ resistance by conducting her tests at odd times, sneered at her. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to gloat in her power over them however, flicking though the files she held on them in her handheld scanner.

“I find it fascinating that your resistance to the zat’nik’tel continues to build while that of your companions has stabilised,” she told Faith with a supercilious air.

“Is that Anise talking or Freya?” it was Faith’s turn to sneer.

“Both, of course,” Anise told her, surprised that she felt the need to ask. “I wonder...”

“What...?” asked Faith with dread in her voice.

“It’s just a theory,” Anise mentioned diffidently, “But I wonder if it could possibly be because you are the source of the mutation and they have been affected by their proximity to you, something which is now at an end.” Faith stared incredulously at her. “It is only a theory,” Anise defended awkwardly.

She rallied herself, standing upright as she confronted the hok’taur she had managed to contain for further study, “You’ll be pleased to hear that this phase of testing is almost at an end.”

“Goody,” said Faith sarcastically. “What’s the next?”

“Pain resistance,” Anise explained with the air of one speaking to a child. “I told you.”

“Fucking joy,” commented Faith.



Jool stared out of the passenger window, watching Colorado Springs pass by. She’d been in America for almost a month now, but the sensation of being in another country had yet to sink in. Living under Cheyenne Mountain, her world was so enclosed that she could have been anywhere in the world, apart from the prevalence of American accents. But there were other accents in the SGC; the Canadians all thought her French accent was hysterical and she was even getting the chance to brush up on her Russian. It was only when she visited the surface that she was reminded that she was in a different country. She felt like a tourist.

“So...” Oz said and she dragged her attention away from the window and over to him. “You and Jon.”

“What?” Jool said vehemently. “No!”

Oz spared her a glance from the road and an eyebrow raised in surprise.

Jool’s hands twisted in her lap and she dropped her gaze to star at them, “Maybe once,” she admitted awkwardly. Her eyes flashed up to his face, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Oz told her with a glance.

Jool sighed, “Thanks.”

“If it helps, I didn’t know,” Oz shrugged. “I was gonna tell you that you two need to work through whatever argument you had the other day.”

“Oh,” said Jool, feeling foolish.

Oz glanced at her curiously, “So. You and Jon?”



Faith groaned as she opened her eyelids and rolled over onto her back. Every time she woke up after being zatted, she felt worse. It was all very well for Anise to talk about her increasing resistance, but the snake wasn’t on the receiving end of her “experiments”. Talking of experiments... Faith groaned again when she remembered that Anise was planning to move onto the next stage of her sadistic tests. Grabbing hold off the metal rod she was using to dig her way out of her cell, Faith pushed herself to her feet. She had to get them out of there before that happened.



Sitting down at his desk to start work the following morning, General Hank Landry was surprised to find a file entitled ‘Operation LIM’ and marked for his eyes only waiting for him. Opening the folder, he was amused to discover that LIM stood for Langaran Infiltration Mission and that this was only the first draft. A slight smile on his face, he read on.



Jon hated shopping. But his old apartment had been fully furnished and his new place wasn’t. He had managed to get some stuff, but even he had to admit he needed more. So, now that he didn’t have anything to do, he ambled down Main Street, hoping to buy some furniture and get out of there before the shops started to fill up with the lunch rush. He found himself wondering how the rest of his team was filling the day. Maybe he should call Andrew and casually suggest that the young watcher take the Doc shopping. She must be bored out of her mind stuck in the mountain with nothing to do.

Or not. Maybe she was standing over there, at the open driver’s door of a car, having some sort of argument over the car roof with her driving instructor. He hadn’t even known she had a lesson booked, he thought as he headed over to her.

“What’s up Doc?” he asked, and suppressed the snigger. She looked flustered enough.

“Oh!” she noticed him. “Hello Captain.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked, making sure his gaze took in the driving instructor, who’d lost a little of his bluster when Jon’s rank was involved.

Not much though, “This crazy bitch ripped my steering wheel off,” he accused and sure enough, the Doc was holding a steering wheel and looking sheepish. “Now she wants her money back. I told her, I’m gonna sue!”

“I wasn’t even in the car for ten minutes,” the Doc argued. “And I didn’t mean to pull the steering wheel off. It just sort of happened.”

“I’m gonna sue you for every penny you own and more,” the driving instructor threatened the Doc.

“Hey!” Jon snapped. “I’m thinking she should sue you for providing her with a faulty car to learn in.”

“What?” the driving instructor and the Doc said at the same time.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Jon told them. “You’re gonna give the lady her money back and call a tow truck,” he said to the driving instructor. “And then I’m gonna give her a driving lesson.”

“You are?” the Doc asked him, looking surprised.

“Ya, sure, you betcha,” said Jon, already regretting it.



He drove her to the middle of nowhere. Up the mountain and then off the road and onto a dirt track. He knew the road like the back of his hand. Finally they came to a large flat clearing with picnic table dotted on the trimmed grass and Jon stopped the truck, turning off the engine. Getting out, he walked around the truck and opened her door.

“Your turn,” he said.

Jool got out. She knew it was childish, but she was so excited that she skipped around the truck and up into the driver’s seat, reaching for the keys only to discover that he had had taken them out of the ignition. Surprised, she turned to him, only to be treated to a lecture on the gearbox and pedals.

“I already know this,” she told him. “The Jeep I drove on the base was a manual.”

“Yeah, well, we’re starting slow,” Jon sighed and handed his keys over. “Stay in first gear and drive slowly around the tables.”

With a put-upon sigh, Jool obeyed, starting the engine and putting the truck into first gear. The vehicle lurched as she struggled with the clutch and accelerator and then she got the hang of it and they were away! Travelling around the outside of the picnic tables at a whole two miles per hour. Wait a minute... Jool squinted at the dials on the dashboard. Better make that two kilometres per hour. Were kilometres more or less than miles?

“Good,” Jon praised her when they were on the opposite side of the clearing. “Now, press the clutch down and change up into second gear.” The gearbox crunched horrendously and Jon winced even as the Doc apologised. “Slowly,” he cautioned as their speed began to pick up.

After a couple more laps of the clearing, Jool felt as though she was starting to master the art of driving. She’d managed to drive for five minutes without crashing into anything or wrecking the Captain’s truck. In fact, she felt confident enough to start up a conversation.

“So... why did you tell Graham that I should sue him?” she asked curiously.

“Graham?” he reached out and made a minor correction to the steering wheel, steering them away from a tree stump.

“My driving instructor?” Jool reminded him. “I mean, I didn’t mean to pull his steering wheel off but it was definitely my fault.”

“He doesn’t know that,” he pointed out. “Humans aren’t supposed to be able to pull off parts off cars. It’s a dog-eat-dog world; if someone threatens to sue you, threaten ‘em right back. Nine times out of ten they’ll back down. Okay, start weaving in and out of the tables.”

“Oh,” Jool said, thinking hard as she obeyed him. “What about the tenth time?”

“Get a lawyer,” he advised bluntly.

She supposed it made sense – America was well-known for its prosecution-happy population. But how was it that he was so knowledgeable about the whole process when he was only a teenager?

They lapsed back into silence as she steered the truck in and out of the picnic tables. It was a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by Jon giving Jool directions. For the most part Jool concentrated on driving but she couldn’t resist the occasional sidelong glance at him as he lounged in the passenger seat, his brown hair ruffling in the breeze from the open window. Catching him looking back at her, she snapped her attention back to the view out of the windscreen, cursing the pale colouring responsible for the blush she could feel burning her cheeks.

“Looking forward to going to Langara?” he asked casually after an awkward moment.

“Oh, yes!” she said enthusiastically as she narrowly avoided one of the benches. “It should be fascinating. I can’t wait to meet Faith,” she spoke the older Slayer’s name with reverence.

“She might not be there,” Jon cautioned automatically. “We don’t know for sure that she was the last person to leave Sim- Wait,” he sat forward, frowning. “You mean you’ve never met Faith before?”

“I’ve heard stories,” she told him. “But I’ve never actually met her.”

“Great!” he said, flinging himself back in his seat and rolling his eyes heavenward. “Just great!”

Looking at him in concern, Jool completely failed to pay attention to where she was driving. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

He lunged for the steering wheel, “Watch out for that tree!”



Meanwhile, back at the SGC, the control room was in a state of organised chaos as the Stargate rippled behind the closed iris.

“Report!” General Landry ordered from the top of the staircase.

“Receiving IDC,” Walter dutifully reported. “It’s Master Bra’tac’s!” He turned to look at the General as he arrived behind him, waiting for further orders.

“Open the iris,” commanded General Landry, heading for the stairs to the ‘Gateroom hallway. “And tell Teal’c!”

The iris cycled back and the aged Jaffa Councilmember walked through the open wormhole, closely followed by a younger and taller Jaffa. They walked to the end of the ramp and waited, the younger of the two wide-eyed and rubber-necking. Master Bra’tac spared him an exasperated look.

“Master Bra’tac!” General Landry greeted as he strode into the room. “Welcome.”

“Greetings, General Landry,” Bra’tac inclined his head respectfully and stepped off the ramp. “This is Gelan,” he introduced the tall Jaffa beside him. Gelan made his bow to the General and Bra’tac turned back to General Landry, his face sombre as he announced, “We have news of Faith.”



Jool was having fun in third gear. Okay, so she was back to going round in circles, but she was doing it in third gear! She glanced at her watch. Even better, she’d been driving for almost twenty minutes and she still hadn’t crashed into anything! It had been pretty close back there with the tree though. So close that she’d shut her eyes and breathed in, willing the truck to squeeze past; much to Jon’s disbelief.

She and he were actually getting along quite well for a change. Almost crashing his truck into a tree seemed to have broken the final lingering tension between them. Jool gasped as she remembered something that she had meant to call him about that afternoon.

“Oh, by the way,” she said and he transferred his attention to her, “Sam doesn’t know if we can engage the sublight engines while we’re still in hyperdrive. She going to run some simulations for us but I had to agree that she could work on the Mind-Melder while we’re off. Apparently, Oz meant to study it before he got sick.”

“Sam?” Jon frowned. The last he’d heard the two women couldn’t stand each other. Since when were they on first name terms?

“Yeah, Colonel Carter?” Jool reminded him, thinking he didn’t know who she was referring to.

Jon was just opening his mouth to tell her that he knew damn well who Carter was when his phone rang. Shutting his mouth with a snap, he dug in his pocket for the cell.

“O’Neil,” he answered the phone. “Keep driving,” he said to the Doc when she looked like she was about to try to stop the truck. “Not you Walter.”

Shamelessly, Jool listened in on his short conversation. Trying her best to look as though the thought had never crossed her mind as he snapped the phone shut and turned to her.

“Take that path there,” he said, pointing. “We’ve got to go back to the base.”

“You want me to drive there?” Jool squeaked.



Faith threw jug after jug of sand over the floor of her cell, no longer caring about keeping the evidence of her tunnelling secret. Still sand continued to pour out of the hole she had created. Fucking desert planet!

She jammed a piece of her new bed, now in pieces, into the tunnel, shoring up the roof, and crawled into the hole. She was almost up to her waist now and guessed that she would soon reach the crystal wall of the passageway. Clutching the thin metal pole that had got her this far, she jabbed it into the tightly-packed sand in front of her. It crunched into something that wasn’t sand, broke through and then lodged itself in something that might have been the passage wall.

Faith pulled it out and squinted through the hole. No light. So what had she hit? Sand trickled down over her shoulder in a steady stream and Faith got the hell out of there before the tunnel collapsed on her again. That hadn’t been fun.

Emerging into her cell, she grabbed another piece of her bed, ready to head back in and shore up the tunnel. In the corner of her eye, something flickered and she stopped, glancing over her shoulder.

There was nothing there.

Faith frowned. She stood up, the tunnel forgotten, and stared at the hallway. There had been something there. Hadn’t there?

“Whistler?” she called, unconsciously tightening her grip on the piece of headboard she held.

Her view of the hall disappeared in a wall of static that stretched from one side of her cell to the other. Faith jumped back, startled. The static vanished and the hallway reappeared.

“Fuck me,” Faith whispered, her eyes on the forcefield. That crunch must’ve been something important.

The forcefield dissolved into static once again and Faith hurled herself at it, not stopping to think what the consequences might be. An unpleasant tingling sensation, like goosebumps or a nearby Prior, passed over her and she was out into the hall.

“Yes!” she exulted, punching the air.

“Faith?”

“You did it?”

“Are you free?”

Mallie, Kay and Nya all spoke at the same time. Using the piece of headboard she still held to break the forcefield controls, Faith had freed Kay by the time they had finished. Mallie and Nya were released at the same time, Kay opting to just rip the controls to Nya’s cell out of the wall. Faith didn’t bother trying to check Mallie’s exuberant hug but she wasn’t expecting Nya to slam into them. Her eyes met Kay’s amused ones as the oldest slayer stood to one side, her eyes dancing merrily as she quietly observed them.

“Okay! I don’t do group hugs,” Faith exclaimed, extricating herself from their grasp.

“Now what?” a voice asked, and it wasn’t a voice belonging to any of the slayers there. In fact, it had a distinct Brooklyn sound to it...

Faith held up her hand, checking the three slayers about to slay first and ask questions later. She greeted him coolly, “Whistler.”

“Slayer,” Whistler cheerfully returned the greeting, pouring himself a large glass of whiskey from the bottle he held. Faith stared at it and her nose twitched as she sniffed the air. Was that Jack Daniels? Whistler toasted her with his glass, “Congratulations on the escape.” He tossed back the whiskey, grimacing, “Ah! So, not to sound repetitive but, now what? That dispensation we talked about doesn’t cover snakes, y’know?”

It was Jack Daniels! Faith glared at him as he poured another glass, “You come all this way just to tell me that?”

“Not just that,” Whistler said defensively, waving his glass in her direction. Precious whiskey slopped over the edge and onto the floor. Faith found herself wondering if he was drunk. “Forgot to mention it before. You missed one.”

“What?” Faith asked, beginning to lose her patience. Beside her, Mallie twitched, clearly just waiting for the word from her to start pulverising the demon in front of them.

“Slayer. You missed one,” Whistler repeated. “Number of planets you’ve been to, you should have four by now, not three.”

“What do you mean I missed one?” Faith demanded. “When?”

Whistler shrugged, “Think about it. I’m sure it’ll come to you.” He turned to go and Faith felt impotent rage boil up in her throat.

“That’s it?” she cried after him. “You’re just gonna go?”

“I said congratulations right?” Whistler said as he walked away. He stopped and his shoulders slumped as he sighed, “Ah, hell!” Turning back around, he threw the bottle of Jack Daniels he carried at Faith. She snatched it out of the air, cradling it to her chest. “You’re doing good kid,” he told her before he walked around a corner and out of sight. His voice floated back to them, “I knew you would.”

The slayers stood in silence for a moment after he had left, each dealing with the aftermath of the feelings he had evoked. For the majority of them, it was a relatively simple matter. For Faith however, the emotions Whistler had stirred were more complex. Almost without realising what she was doing, she unscrewed the lid of the bottle of Jack Daniels and took a large gulp.

“Faith...?” Kay said tentatively.

Faith hissed as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.



Wondering why they were being called into the mountain while they were off sick, Oz stepped off the elevator at level twenty-seven and walked towards the briefing room. Walter hadn’t given him any information over the phone, just told him to come in. He hoped that the others were there. Or did the General just want to see him? Oz couldn’t think of a reason why.

Walking into the room, he was relieved to see that Andrew was already sitting there with General Landry, Teal’c and two Jaffa that he hadn’t met before. Nodding a general greeting at everyone, and ignoring the way that the oldest Jaffa’s eyebrows rose at the sight of his orange hair, Oz slipped into a seat to wait for Jon and Jool to show up. He was a little surprised that neither of them was there. Surely Jon had been the first of them that they had called and even though she managed to be late for every briefing, Jool lived on the base. Shouldn’t she have been there first?

Oz didn’t have long to wait, and Jon and Jool arrived together. Jon stopped dead a few steps into the room and Oz could see the conflict written on his face at he stared at the three Jaffa ranged on one side of the briefing table. Frowning at him with confusion, Jool walked around him to take a seat at the table.

Jon had frozen. Whatever he had been expecting to find in the briefing room, this wasn’t it. As Jack O’Neill, he wanted nothing more than to go over and greet Bra’tac in his usual manner; with a slap on the shoulder and a wise-crack. As Jonathon O’Neil however, he knew that what he had to do was sit down at the table and wait to be introduced. Unless he wanted to blow his cover. Now if only his feet would move...

Eventually Jon moved forward and sat down at the table, but by that time his hesitation had been noted by everyone in the room, although only one, Teal’c, had any clue as to its real cause. Oz was rapidly putting two and two together however, and finding that it equalled something that vaguely resembled four. Jool wasn’t far behind the werewolf but the Captain’s behaviour mystified her on this occasion. General Landry attributed the hesitation to unease in the presence of aliens, an assumption that Bra’tac also jumped to. Of all of them, Andrew and Gelan were definitely the most oblivious.

“Now that we’re all here,” General Landry said pointedly. “This is Master Bra’tac, one of the Jaffa High Council members. Master Bra’tac, this is SG-13, whose job it is to search for Faith. Andrew Wells,” Andrew waved happily at Master Bra’tac, “Captain O’Neil,” Jon nodded professionally to Bra’tac, “Daniel Os-”

“O’Neill?” Bra’tac interrupted, leaning forward to look curiously at Jon.

“One ‘l’,” Jon told him, holding up a finger.

“Captain O’Neil is not a relative of General O’Neill’s,” Teal’c informed Bra’tac, avoiding looking at the General’s clone. He felt uncomfortable with the half-truth he had just told to his old mentor but he knew that he had no choice. It was not an honourable course of action however.

“Daniel Osbourne,” General Landry repeated, resuming the introductions. “And Doctor Wilson,” he turned to SG-13. “Master Bra’tac has some news about Faith.”

“Really?”

“What kind of news?”

“Have you seen her?”

The questions came thick and fast and Bra’tac held up his hand to halt the young humans opposite him. “I have not seen her myself,” he told them. “Although Gelan here has. Perhaps,” Bra’tac glanced at General Landry. “He should begin?”

General Landry nodded and Gelan swallowed nervously as he looked around at the attentive faces pointed in his direction. He could hardly believe that he was here, on the Tau’ri homeworld, with Master Bra’tac and Teal’c. And they wanted to hear what he, Gelan, had to say!

He coughed nervously and began, “I met Faith on Duran, the night after Teal’c left,” he glanced at Master Bra’tac who nodded reassuringly at him. “She, Kay, Mallie and Nya had-”

“Nya?” Captain O’Neil interrupted him sharply.

Gelan nodded, noticing that Teal’c exchanged an uneasy look with Captain O’Neil while the rest of SG-13 looked confused. He also noticed that the Doctor woman was scribbling notes. “I believe that was her name,” he told them. “They had just arrived on Duran and they were seeking accommodation in one of the inns.”



Faith kicked the Magic Dialling Mushroom in frustration. It had all been going so well! They’d even found their stuff stashed in one of the rooms. There had been no sign of Anise and they’d been able to make their way to the rings and the planet surface without any difficulty. She should’ve known it was too good to be true. The Magic Mushroom was broken, or sabotaged... whichever. It didn’t really matter. The point was that it wasn’t working.

She tipped her head back to the sky, shouting, “What the fuck to do you want from me?”

The three slayers huddled in a group a slight distance away exchanged uneasy looks. Faith turned rapidly on her heel, scooping up a rock about the size of her fist and hurling it into the distance. She screamed after it. As the last echoes of her screech died and she turned away, all four slayers distinctly heard the clunk of something striking metal.

As one, the slayers turned to face the direction of the noise, quivering like a dog pointing at game. Slowly, Faith bent and picked up another stone. Hefting it in her hand, she considered it for a moment before sending it hurtling after the first.

This time they saw it bounce... off nothing.

And they were off. Sprinting across the dunes towards the invisible something in the distance. Sliding on the sand but never losing their footing or slowing for a second. There was something that felt very natural to them about their environment. Later, Faith would wonder if it had anything to do with Sineya. Now, however, she gave herself over to the moment and the exhilaration of running as fast as she could.

Skidding the last few feet, Faith brought herself to a halt bare inches from where the stone had hit, Kay and Nya joining her seconds later. Mallie overshot the mark and slammed straight into whatever it was.

Her sister slayers winced and then gaped as an opening appeared in the air, leading into a gold-lined hallway.

“So,” said Faith nonchalantly. “I’m thinking either Aladdin’s Cave or spaceship.”

She had to use her elbows to get to the front of the rush towards the door. Inside the ship – it had to be a spaceship – she stared at the hieroglyphs carved into the golden walls. Behind her, Nya and Mallie jostled each other for a better view, Kay bringing up the rear. It was Kay who found the switch to close the door, making them all jump when it suddenly slid shut.

“Dammit, Kay!” said Faith, putting her zat away. “Warn me before you touch anything.”

“Sorry,” Kay didn’t sound the slightest bit sorry as she followed them into a large room with a wide window.

“Okay,” said Faith, taking in the low-slung seats in front of consoles and the strange controls. “I’m guessing this is the cockpit. Anyone know how to fly this thing?” she added hopefully.

“Why are you all looking at me?” Kay asked indignantly.

“You used to live on a Jaffa planet,” Mallie pointed out helpfully.

“I ran an inn,” Kay reminded her acerbically. “That doesn’t mean I can fly a tel’tak.”

“Ah!” Mallie exclaimed triumphantly. “But you can recognise one.”

Faith meanwhile was inspecting the squiggles displayed on the console with dismay. For all the difficulties she had imagined lay ahead of her, she’d never imagined having to learn a new language was one of them. And one that had no resemblance to any alphabet she’d ever seen.

“Just tell me you can read this,” she said to Kay, staring at the alien language.

Kay came up behind her to look over her shoulder, reading the words on the screen, “Hyperdrive offline.”



“...And then Faith broke the Prior’s staff,” Gelan had been talking for some time now and his throat was beginning to feel sore.

“How?” Captain O’Neil wanted to know.

“With her foot,” Gelan told him, his eyes distant and a slight smile on his face as he recalled the sight.

“What happened next?” asked Andrew Wells. The slight Tau’ri had been on the seat of his seat ever since Gelan’s account of the first Ori attack.

“Duran burned,” Gelan said simply.

“Huh?” said the Tau’ri with the bright orange hair. Gelan remembered that his name was Daniel Osbourne. This was the first time he had spoken.

“First the Prior, and then the whole town caught fire,” elaborated Gelan. “Almost half of the people still there managed to escape to Dakara.”

“What about Faith and the others?” Doctor Wilson asked, looking pale.

“They too travelled to Dakara,” Master Bra’tac reassured her.

“I found them quarters in the refugee camp,” Gelan told them. “It was my intention to escort Faith to see Master Bra’tac but when I returned the following afternoon, their tent was empty.”

“Faith came to the temple to see me,” Bra’tac picked up the tale. “Unfortunately the guards turned her away. When I heard from them that she was on Dakara I immediately began to search for her. All I could find was Gelan.”

“And this all took place a couple of days ago?” Captain O’Neil asked them.

Bra’tac nodded gravely, “It did indeed.”

“Crap,” the Captain said succinctly.

“Then... there’s no way Faith could be on Langara,” Andrew Wells said slowly.

“I believe that Andrew Wells was able to obtain the last address dialled from Nya’s home planet,” Teal’c explained to Bra’tac. “It was not Duran.”

“There must have been a Prior on the planet too,” Doctor Wilson surmised. “We know that Langara’s under Ori control; he must have ‘Gated there from Simarka.”

“So if Faith’s not on Langara,” said Captain O’Neil, “And she’s not on Dakara... then where the hell is she?”



The shadows cast by the relentless sun had lengthened but still the tel’tak sat on the planet’s surface. Inside, Kay peered at a console and then pressed a button, her every action watched closely by the three slayers behind her. This had been going on for some time.

“Alright,” said Kay in a bracing tone as she stepped back from the consoles. “I think that’s all the pre-flight checks completed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mallie exploded. “We’re trying to escape and you’re doing pre-flight checks?”

Faith head snapped around so fast to look at the petite blonde that she thought for a moment she might have given herself whiplash. She really had been a bad influence on the girl, she thought. At least she hadn’t cussed.

“Do you really want the hyperdrive to start feeding back on itself?” Kay snapped.

“Um...” said Nya, trying to break into the conversation.

“Not good?” Faith asked Kay.

“Not good,” Kay confirmed.

“Uhhh...” Nya said, her hand tentatively rising.

“But we’re good to go now, right?” Faith asked.

“Right,” Kay replied positively. Her face fell as she admitted, “As soon as I work out how to turn the sublight engines on.”

“Um, we have a problem,” Nya summoned up the courage to speak.

“What?” Faith asked her, noticing her nervousness for the first time.

Nya pointed out of the window in reply. At the figure casting a long black shadow as she strode across the desert towards them, the wind tugging at her hair and clothes.

“Shit!” Faith exclaimed. “Anise!” Grabbing hold of Kay, she shoved her into the pilot’s seat, “Get us out of here.”

“But...” Kay protested.

“Now!”

Faced with an impressive array of buttons and switches, Kay did the first thing she could think of and placed her hands on the large orange ball directly in front of her. The spaceship’s engines started with a shudder. Outside, Anise started to run towards them.

“Alright,” Kay said to herself. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady her nerves, “You can do this.”

“Just fly!” cried Mallie as Anise drew nearer.

Tentatively, Kay pulled her fingers towards her. The ball slid easily towards her and the ground tilted away from them as the nose of the ship rose. Slowly, they began to ascend. Kay rolled the ball towards herself, more firmly this time and the ship responded by accelerating.

“There,” she sighed. “Easy!” The ship lurched as she turned around to grin at the others, her hands still on the controls, and sent them staggering.

“Eyes where you’re driving!” Faith snapped and Kay quickly turned back around just in time to see the last of the atmosphere disappear, replaced by the dark blanket of space.

“Ohh...” sighed Nya, enraptured by the sight.

Faith walked forward to stand next to Kay, her eyes also on the vast expanse before them. She rested her hand on Kay’s shoulder. The older slayer was doing incredibly well for someone who’d never been in a spaceship in her life less than an hour ago. She’d come a long way from the woman who was too squeamish to stick around while Mallie gutted their dinner.

“We need to get out of range of the rings,” she said quietly to her.

“Do you really think Anise is going to attack us?” Mallie asked curiously.

“I’m going as fast as we can,” Kay told her tersely, trying to look at Faith, several screen displaying vital information and the view at the same time. “I can’t fly the ship and plot a hyperdrive course at the same time.”

“Mallie,” Faith said, turning around to face the two others. “You’ve been in spaceships before. Learn how to fly this thing so Kay can work out a hyperdrive course. Nya, come with me, you’re gonna guard the ringroom.”

“What are you going to do?” Mallie asked sulkily.

“Find the shower,” Faith told her bluntly. “I’ve got sand in places you wouldn’t believe.”