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FIC: Alien End-Game (8/?)

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  • Keith
    FIC: Alien End-Game (8/?) Giles shuffled wearily on, a yoke around his neck, constraining his arms and chains securing his ankles. All around him and his
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 17, 2007
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      FIC: Alien End-Game (8/?)

      Giles shuffled wearily on, a yoke around his neck, constraining his
      arms and chains securing his ankles. All around him and his fellow
      prisoners were grim-faced Jaffa, stewarding them towards a ring-
      platform for transportation to one of their blasted motherships. "I
      could get used to having a Watcher chained up like this. I'm
      surprised Buffy or Faith never thought of it before."

      Even as Giles dazedly heard and recognised the cocky voice Kennedy
      and the Round Table knights glided out of the darkness. The Jaffa
      immediately to his right started to turn to face the intruders.
      Before he could ready his weapon, his head was flying into the cold
      night air, decapitated by a single sword swing by Lancelot. Blood
      spurted out to drench the knight even as the rampaging warrior
      continued on.

      It seemed to Giles' amazed eyes that the knight moved with an almost
      Slayer-like speed. Another Jaffa stepped in his path. The alien was
      unable to level his staff before Lancelot's shield smashed into his
      face and his back-handed sword slash took the Jaffa's head off. The
      knight sidestepped a staff blast from another Jaffa, his blade
      chopping down to rip through the alien's left knee. Blood pumping
      out of the severed limb, the screaming Jaffa fell on his face.

      And then just as suddenly as the attack had begun it was over, dead
      and dying Jaffa lying everywhere, the ground soaked with their
      viscera. "Sage Rupert," Giles gasped as Arthur and Kennedy stepped
      before him, the Slayer immediately setting to work pulling his yoke
      off, "I trust you are well?"

      Giles forced a smile and opened his mouth to reassure England's
      greatest ever hero. And then the world tilted and he fell forwards,
      legs suddenly weak.

      * *

      Angel growled as he looked down into the makeshift quarry. The
      entire work area was bathed in torch-light, allowing the Jaffa to
      mercilessly work their slaves through the night, whips lashing at the
      unfortunate humans. Angel's eyes narrowed as he noticed
      something. "Why are they using pickaxes and spades? Surely the
      Goa'uld have more advanced tools?"

      "They do," Bra'tac explained in a hiss. "But when they are not in a
      hurry, they like to work their slaves with primitive tools to make it
      harder for them."

      "Nice," Angel replied, anger growing. He glanced at Riley. "So what
      does our military genius think?"

      The Special Forces soldier tore his gaze away from the camp. "I
      think we should make a detour around the camp, but I guess I'm out-
      voted. I see us making a three-pronged attack. Bra'tac takes those
      with enhanced night-vision – Angel, Connor, and Blade through as
      prisoners at 2200 hours. At 2215, Gwen, accompanied by Illyria,
      blows the generator to the north of the camp." Riley pointed for
      emphasis. "The moment the lights go out, Sam and I will go down to
      the east wire-mesh fence, plant a claymore and back off. At 2230,
      I'll set it off. Sam and I will provide covering fire as you take
      out as many as Jaffa as possible in the confusion."

      "Whatever the military's paying you it's too much," Angel
      incredulously commented.

      "Look," Riley glowered at him. "I don't think this is a smart idea
      to start with. So if you're not happy with my plan, I'd be just as
      happy to call everything off and walk away while we still can."

      "No," Angel shook his head, "the plan's fine."

      * *

      "Were you and my mom serious?" Jack started at the husky voice
      behind him, momentarily shocked that its owner would speak to him.
      Shoving aside his amazed excitement, he turned to face the brunette,
      suspicion gleaming in her chocolate-brown orbs. Jack stared at the
      young woman, mind whirling as he struggled to decide how to answer
      the thorny question. "Well?" Hand on her hip, Faith tapped her foot
      impatiently. "Ya wanna talk or what?"

      "I want to talk," Jack slowly replied. God, what he wouldn't do for
      Daniel's way with the words. Or Teal'c's extra-terrestrial
      calmness. "But maybe not about that. Maybe you could tell me about
      being a Slayer-."

      "I tried, forget it." Head shaking, the supernatural warrior started
      to turn away. Jack grabbed her arm. Faith's eyes snapped back to
      him, colder than death. "Two men can get a hold of me without my say
      so. And you ain't Angel or Xan."

      "Sorry." Jack let go as if scalded. "It was the summer of '81.
      Your mother was a dancer at a club," Faith groaned, "and she was the
      most beautiful girl in the place. She had your eyes, hair, and
      smile," well what he'd seen of it when she was talking to her friends
      and her Watcher. "We spent a weekend together."

      "And that's it?" Faith shook her head, eyes disbelieving. "Jesus,
      I'd figured it wasn't `Gone With The Wind', but this?"


      "If you'd know about me, would it have made a difference?" Faith

      "Of course it would." Jack searched desperately for a change of
      subject. "You have a brother."

      "Oh yeah?" For the first time, some of the anger left the raven-
      haired beauty's tone and eyes. "Do you know where he is now?"

      Jack's stomach tightened, both with the memory, and the certain fore-
      knowledge of his daughter's reaction. "Charlie shot himself with my
      gun in '94," he finally admitted.

      "Jesus," Faith's look of disgust made him feel three inches tall. "I
      really got the parental prize. One parent who made me wanna kill
      myself and one parent who actually finishes the job. Fuck!" the
      Slayer threw her hands up. "I was right the first time!"

      Jack opened his mouth only to close it as the Slayer stormed
      off. "Damn it, great strategic planning, Jack. Next stop the UN."

      * *

      "Ooooooh," Giles groaned as he awoke, forcing his incredibly heavy
      lids to open.

      "You're alright!"

      Giles smiled at the Slayer's enthused cry. "Alright would be over-
      stating it." In truth he felt like he'd been through the proverbial
      grinder. Looking around, he saw they were in a mini-bus driven by
      Frank Martin, the sun just rising over the horizon. "And how are
      you? You took quite a beating as I remember."

      Kennedy's answering smile was strained. "I hurt some," the young
      woman admitted. "But Slayer healing is helping."

      "Ah," Giles nodded. Slayer healing frequently amazed him with both
      its speed and capacity to keep on going no matter what. "Well thank
      you very much for coming to my rescue."

      "Willow would have wanted me to." Kennedy's smile became more
      genuine. "I'm your protector right?"

      "Yes," Giles smiled. "Indeed you are. And indeed she would." When
      he compared Kennedy to Tara, she was abrasive, out-spoken, and
      impatient. But the last few days had revealed another side to the
      brunette beauty – a fierce loyalty and indomitable spirit that had to
      be admired. "She'd be very proud." Seeing the tears brimming in the
      girl's eyes at his words, he instantly took her in his arms. "Hush
      now," he whispered. "It'll be alright." After a second the Slayer
      pulled away, a look of mortification on her face. "What's the plan
      now?" he quickly asked, deciding a change of subject was definitely
      in order.

      "Bond," the Slayer wiped at her eyes as she spoke, disdain dripping
      from the young woman's voice. Giles guessed the well-known
      womanising secret agent had tried and failed to work his charm on the
      beautiful Slayer. "Says we're going to Torchwood."

      "Ah, yes," Giles nodded. He recalled Bond telling him about
      Torchwood. Situated in Cardiff, it was Britain's base for the
      research into alien technology. "And how long until we get there?"

      "Four hours given the current conditions," the brunette replied.

      "In that case," Giles closed his suddenly heavy again eyes and
      yawned. "I'm rather tired. I think I'll take another nap."

      * *

      "Here's the thing," Connor whispered as Bra'tac herded him, Connor,
      and Blade towards the shadow-shrouded camp, "that piece of metal on
      your forehead, isn't it some sort of identification? Won't they be
      able to tell you're not supposed to be here?"

      "A wise enquiry," Bra'tac complimented his son. "And normally with a
      Goa'uld you would be correct. However The Quartet have Jaffas from a
      great number of Goa'uld under their control. I will be unnoticed.

      "Unless what?" Blade growled.

      "Unless my brand is recognised as belonging to a former First Prime
      of Apophis," Bra'tac replied. "Teal'c and I have gained some
      notoriety as traitors to the false gods."

      "Gee," Connor muttered, "and I thought dad was pessimistic."

      Angel glared at his son. "Shut up, Connor." Angel himself fell
      silent as they reached the gates. He listened as Bra'tac talked to
      the trio of Jaffa on the gate in their unintelligible language.

      Finally the rebel Jaffa turned back to them, his mutter too low for
      any ears but their enhanced ones to pick up. "They are convinced,"
      Bra'tac reported even as the wire-mesh gates swung open.

      "So this is where we get to be treated like slaves," Connor
      muttered. " This is the part of the plan I so loved."

      Angel snorted as they passed through the gates. "After crushes on
      Cordelia and Faith, I'd have thought you'd liked it."

      "Silence scum!" A Jaffa's whip slashed against his back. "Pick up
      your ax and work!"

      Angel dropped his head so the alien wouldn't see his eyes flicker
      yellow. When the time came, he'd die first.

      * *

      A seeming eternity later and the camp was suddenly plunged into
      darkness. Angel hid a malicious smirk at the Jaffas' consternation.
      A few seconds later and the sky lit up and the ground shuddered
      underfoot as the far fence was blown apart.

      Ears still ringing to the concussive blast, Angel blurred into
      action. Snatching hold of the head of a Jaffa foolish enough to turn
      his back to him, he twisted, snapping the alien's neck. Snatching up
      the falling alien's staff, he shot off a succession of energy
      blasts. Each shot hit its target, putting a Jaffa down on his back.

      The ringing in his ears diminishing, he heard the sound of an unarmed
      Jaffa charging him from his left and another from behind. Angel
      shifted his staff into an underarm position and shot the alien behind
      while kicking the one to his left in the throat.

      Another leapt at him, knife swinging. He caught the alien's wrist
      inches from his neck. "Nice try," he smiled at the Jaffa's
      shock. "Not good enough." He drove a palm into the alien's face,
      driving his nose bone into his brain. Dropping the corpse, he vamped
      out as he noticed a Jaffa stood by a laser canon shooting at the
      shrieking slaves as they raced towards the hole in the fence.

      Leaping into the air, he easily cleared the rushing masses to land
      beside the Jaffa butcher. The alien didn't even have time to
      register his presence before Angel had slammed the knife he'd taken
      off his would-be assailant through his eye.

      And then it was over. The camp's Jaffa lay crumpled on the sandy
      ground, lifeless eyes staring up at the stars from which they came.

      But far from all the humans had escaped. Some lay in the sand, some
      worked to death, but others casualties of the firefight. Bile rising
      in his throat, Angel looked around the carnage, burning it into his
      mind so he'd never forget what they were fighting, before turning to
      the others. "Let's go."

      * *

      "I saw you talking to your -, General O'Neill this morning," Xander
      commented as she huddled into her newly-claimed man's side at the end
      of the day.

      Faith stiffened. "Figured I had to try."

      "And?" Xander prompted.

      "And it ain't gonna work. My mom was just some easy lay he picked up
      for a weekend furlong." Faith shook her head. "I ain't interested
      in getting to know him."

      "I'm sorry," Xander wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "But when
      you was a kid didn't you wish you had a dad?"

      "Yeah," Faith admitted. "But in case you ain't got the newsletter, I
      ain't a kid no more, I'm all woman-sized."

      "Oh," Xander grinned. "I'd noticed."

      Faith chuckled before rolling over and kissing Xander on the
      cheek. "'Sides, I got everything I need here."

      * *

      General Hammond sighed as he finished listening to O'Neill's report.
      Dr. Rodney McKay had created a compression formula that allowed for a
      sender to compress five minutes of audio into a five second
      transmission. All three of his teams were heading back with their
      missions accomplished, Captain Finn's team even managing to recruit
      the famed vampire hunter Blade. Which was all to the good, but
      Jack's report lacked his usual annoying yet also engaging
      irreverence. Instead he'd sounded distracted, dispirited. Clearly
      things were not going well with Jack's newly discovered daughter.
      But then given his General's character and the profile the Initiative
      had belatedly supplied on the Slayer, someone's head was going to
      roll for keeping this away from Jack, he hardly expected the meeting
      to be something out of The Waltons.

      George chuckled and shook his head. Saving the world or re-uniting
      families, he didn't know which was the most difficult.
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