It things weren't so serious, I would find this reversal of roles poetic, a kind of macabre irony. Typical, really, of the way my 'life' has run. Ten years ago I was a serious student of archeology, trying to make sense of the riddles of the past. Five years ago I was hailed as the savior of Abydos and, more importantly, the husband of Sha'uri. Four years ago after losing my beautiful wife to the Goa'uld, I lost my life, or at least life as I knew it up until then to Harlan and his duplicating machine. My new life in this robotic form has since consisted of covert missions of exploration, running skirmishes with the Goa'uld, and treks of amazing discoveries. It has been a wild ride.
Now I'm on my knees in a Goa'uld temple facing a charged staff weapon. The eyes of the young man holding it are wide with desperation. He doesn't want to kill me. I can see it in every line of his body, in the uncertainty in his eyes. He knows if he doesn't then his people will be killed in retribution. He believes he has no other choice. I am about to die while my teammates are forced to watch, helpless to stop it. I should be scared, I know. Oddly enough, I'm not. I feel a deep sense of compassion for the man who is about to become my executioner. I know what he is going through because I was once in his position.
//Before my workers question my authority, you will prove that I am their one true God by killing your companions.//
//If I refuse?//
//Then I will destroy you and all who have seen you. There can only be one Ra.//
The words of the tyrannical Goa'uld echo in my head as if it were yesterday. I remember the rush of fear, the sudden inability to breath as I realized he meant to kill everyone in the city who had come into contact with the soldiers from Earth. Skaara, Kasuf, Sha'uri. . . they would all die simply because they had laid eyes on us. Could I let that happen? Could I stand by and allow five thousand innocent people to be slaughtered? To prevent that could I take an alien weapon and kill four good men in cold blood, soldiers from my own world?
As I walked down that ramp under the blazing desert sun, I stared into the eyes of the man I had followed to this world. He stared steadily back. He didn't know the ultimatum Ra had given me. He didn't know that I had made up my mind to save the greater number by killing his men. Until I walked out of Ra's ship, he hadn't even known I was still alive. All he knew was that I was scared. He knew I wouldn't be doing this if I felt I had another choice. Then I was standing directly over him, charged weapon in my trembling hands, ready to end his life.
A flash of light in my eyes made me look up, made me see the salvation waiting in the hushed crowd. I was spared the horror of being the implement through which Ra carried out his vengeance.
Darrian isn't so lucky. Another tyrannical Goa'uld stands over us, gloating. The warriors of Juna are surrounded on all sides by armed Jaffa. If he refuses to take my life, his men will perish. His world will suffer. We both know this. There will be no unexpected rescue, no flash of light to spare either of us this time. He raises the weapon, his eyes boring into mine. I feel the ghost of a smile on my face as I will him to understand that I don't hold him responsible. There is an answering flicker in his eyes, a response to my message. I close my eyes.
finis
© February 24, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, 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-I 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.