The first day of the attack was chaos.
The goa'uld must have been expecting betrayal, or they would not have attacked so quickly. Even the few Tollan who knew what was coming -- Narim could count them on one hand, himself and Chancellor Travell, a few of the security guards closest to the Curia -- had no time to prepare. No time to defend.
Even if there was a way of defense.
Amidst the seemingly random bombardment, the Goa'uld hit a few vital targets with an accuracy that made it unlikely to be chance. The central nexus of the computer system was among the first to be hit; the stargate a few minutes after that, isolating the planet. They waited a half hour or so, long enough for the wounded to be gathered up, before striking at the medical centers, both existing and spur-of-the-moment.
The ion cannons were left unmarked, with just a deliberate ring of scorched earth around each one.
There was no way to fight back, with the ion cannons ineffective. The Goa'uld knew it; the Curia knew it; Narim knew it; and it soon became clear to the entire city, as the cannons fired again and again into the sky without halting the barrage. Eventually, those firing the cannons, frustrated and furious and panicked beyond reason, turned them on the Curia building.
Chancellor Travell, speaking for the Curia, sent out a plea for rationality, for a united defense. she was ignored.
A few tried to leave, first in larger transports, and then with individually manned crafts that were smaller and faster. None of it mattered; the Goa'uld ship had all the time they needed to track, fire, and destroy. Narim lost count of the fireballs, exploding high in the air and raining shrapnel down on the already burning city.
By the third day, there was little left to be chaotic. The parts of the city that were not completely destroyed were little more than abandoned ruins; the Curia did not exist, its members scattered, dead or injured; there were no ships left to flee on, no places left to hide, no stones to throw at the attackers.
Tollana was dying.
And then, after a final burst that did very little damage beyond what there already was, the attacks stopped.
The silence was strange. for the first time in days, there were no explosions, rumbling pervasively through the air and ground, no low-throated roar of the Goa'uld weaponry. For the first time in years, there was no underlying hum of machines, of civilization.
There was just silence, and the occasional whisper of wind through ash-laden air.
Narim stood alone in what had been the center of the Tollan city. He was not the only survivor, but the others were off regrouping, counting their losses, banding together for support. Narim didn't look for support. With the Curia gone, with the appearance of invincibility shattered, the Tollans would need someone to lead them, and Narim -- as one of the few who had known what was happening, and as one who would have been Curia eventually, if their society had remained unchanged -- knew that he would have to step forward if no one else did.
But not, he told himself, today.
The air was thick with dust and ash. it reminded Narim of the last world the Tollans had left, rendered uninhabitable by volcano activity. The world was equally dead, but this time, their society was lost too, possibly irrevocably.
Narim closed his eyes, fighting the exhaustion that came from too long without sleep, without peace, without safety.
And then something brushed against his shin, bumping deliberately against him, and he opened his eyes again, looking down into a pair of wide green eyes.
"Prrp?"
Narim knelt down, scooping the cat into his arms. "Schroedinger," he murmured, and the cat yowled softly at him.
The fur was more grey ash than the normal orange, but was as soft as it had ever been. Narim scratched gently behind Schroedinger's ears. "I condemned the Curia for being murderers," he told the cat, "but am I any better than they? They killed one man, and deceived the people, because they felt it was the right thing to do. I..." he swallowed, tears pricking at his eyes. "I destroyed everything I held dear, and knew that I was doing it."
Schroedinger mrr'ed and rubbed his cheek against Narim's. For the first time, Narim allowed himself to grieve -- for Omoc, for Samantha, for the Tollans who died, and for the few who survived.
Notes: aftershocks of Between Two Fires, missing scene...in memory of recent events
September 13, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-1, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-1 Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.