EPILOGUE/SEQUEL for The Enemy Within
The iris was under siege, as it had been for countless minutes; the repetitive concussion of disassembled matter coming to a premature end against the only thing standing between a full-scale Goa'uld invasion and us. Each hard bang sent a shiver down my spine and made the relieved smile on Jack O'Neill's face grow larger.
"So this iris is going to hold, right?"
"Pure titanium less than three micrometers from the event horizon. It won't even allow matter to fully reintegrate."
"So this iris is gonna hold, right?"
"If it doesn't, the failsafe device will detonate, this whole mountain will vaporize and there'll be nothin' to worry about."
It was enough to drive anyone nuts. I'd once thought I could handle all matters of stress, after surviving two doctorates and a career destined to be a stellar disaster, no pun intended. The battle against Ra was trying, but this... The past few days had been pure, unadulterated hell. Sha're's abduction by the Goa'uld was something I didn't think I'd ever recover from. Finding her would be finding a part of myself again. My already unsteady nerves, fueled by caffeine and an insomnia marathon, were being jarred constantly with the alarms and soldiers stationed all over the base. Their constant alert in the event of infiltration served to drum in the reality of our situation more and more to the point of redundancy.
Someone was not happy with us. I think Jack would have said, "majorly pissed beyond belief."
It was a sickening thought, knowing that each reverberation we heard from the embarkation room used to be a living, breathing person. Even if they were Jaffa, it was still disturbing to know that they were dying without even really realizing that their lives were over. My own four trips through the Stargate never left anything more than a feeling of intense cold. I had the vague memory of disorientation, but that was it. If my matter slammed into something like an iris, I likely wouldn't know it, either.
It was another example of how cold the Goa'uld were. It seemed typical for Apophis to send people to their demise, when he likely knew very well that no one was coming through alive. Or did he? I hadn't considered that he might not. He might have been awaiting world from his Jaffa about the defeat of this newest adversary, one who had the gall to break out of his palace. Even if his battle plans were going to hell in a hand basket, it was a bit of a comfort to know that only Jaffa were dying against our iris.
Until victory was theirs, the Goa'uld wouldn't dare to travel through the Chaapa'ai. The next thud we heard wouldn't be Sha're.
It was a pretty heady assumption, but it made sense in my mind. I'd heard about the original attack on Earth, how a metal ball similar in principle to our MALPs was thrown through. Apparently, it was just a perk for the divine ranks, because if the Goa'uld had used it for their Jaffa, the attacks would have ceased after the first attempt. Jaffa were just fodder, an innovative interpretation of the survival of the fittest theory with countless Goa'uld larva wiped out with their Jaffa incubators. Despite everything that had happened to Sha're, I was glad for that little bit of security.
The last thud against the iris was the loudest, making me jump despite myself. Sam Carter glanced at me, her expression concerned, but anything she might have said had to be saved for later when the wormhole finally collapsed, leaving us dreading in anticipation.
"Well, that's what I call a show," Jack said after a few long moments. He looked decidedly gleeful as he rubbed his hands together, while the rest of us remembered how to breathe. "I could get used to this. Nothing like a failed invasion to make you feel better about yourself, eh?"
We just blinked at him, half expecting the Stargate to reactivate with round eight. It remained silent.
The soldiers below were finally putting down their weapons. I could imagine their relief after being so rigidly still, aiming their rifles at the iris for who knew how long. A few of them moved from their positions as three suited technicians cautiously approached the iris. The way they were putting one foot slowly ahead of the other made it look as though they were expecting a Goa'uld to come out and bite them. They were carrying all kinds of equipment, looking a bit like the Ghostbusters on the job.
"What are they looking for?" I wondered, moving up closer so I could get a better look through the window. I'd have pressed my nose to the glass if the computers hadn't been in the way.
"Good question. Probably Goa'uld goo," Jack quipped, stumbling over the race name as he stood beside me. It sounded like "goo-oold."
"You mean Goa'uld," I corrected with a half smile, using my own pronunciation of "gould." He chuckled, but I nearly had a double take as I looked back at Carter with a grimace. "Oh, god, you don't mean that there's residue or something back there, do you?"
Even GI Jack blanched at the thought, but Carter saved the day again with a quick reply. "Matter can't be reintegrated because the iris is so close to the event horizon, remember?"
"Three micro-things," Jack added to remind me.
"That's right. So it means that that there won't be any goo, Goa'uld or otherwise." Unlike Jack and me, she was being prim and proper, forming the noun with the extra vowel and the glottal stop in the appropriate spot in the same manner as Teal'c.
"Ah, so that's the technical term?" Jack asked, feigning academic interest. "Cool."
She gave him an indulgent smile, but the Colonel's attention was already elsewhere. With the assumption that the attacks were over for the time being, General Hammond had stepped forward, keeping an eye on the proceedings. The glance he gave us stated that unless we had something to contribute to the immediate situation, we should take the cue and leave. Now.
Jack's nothing if he isn't quick. He strolled out, saying that he'd see the rest of us later. I had no doubt that he'd likely go check on Teal'c, maybe asking our new friend for some insights in what Apophis might have up that ornate sleeve of his. Hammond and Kawalsky would likely get visits, too. I was worried about the major. Headaches weren't fun, and it looked like the one plaguing him was a killer. Probably a migraine.
After one last lingering glance at the silent Stargate, I started to follow Carter's footsteps in Jack's wake. We'd barely cleared half the room when Hammond's voice unexpectedly held us back.
"Captain Carter, Doctor Jackson, could I have a word with you both before you leave?"
I glanced at Carter. The General's words apparently had her as surprised as I was. She shrugged slightly, moving back to the computers again as I wandered behind her.
"What can we do for you, sir?" If anything, one thing I'd learned about the captain so far during our acquaintance is that she's always diplomatic and respectful in her speech. Every other sentence ended in a title, and whatever she said was tempered with careful qualifications. I could learn a thing or three about military etiquette from her, even if I didn't use any of it.
"There's a meeting this afternoon at fourteen hundred, composed of the SGC's newest technicians. They're here to learn how to work with the Stargate, and who better to learn it from than two of the experts?" His pale blue eyes went from Carter to me.
Me? A Stargate expert? I'd never considered myself one. Opening the Stargate was a fluke, a coincidence of being in the right place at the right time to figure out its secret. Sure, I'd done the archaeological thing on Abydos and studied everything we located in the temple, but an actual expert? I was standing next to a theoretical astrophysicist who could dance circles around me, and my knowledge was being compared to hers?
"Certainly, sir. What do you need?" she asked.
"A presentation about everything we know about the Stargate technology. I want you both to work together. What you studied on Abydos, Doctor Jackson, could have great relevance to our own Stargate even if we're missing some of the major elements." At this point, I think he was being cordial only for my benefit. If I'd been military, I think he would have just ordered the presentation, and that's it. "Add your knowledge to Captain Carter's, and present it."
"Oh, is that all?" There's nothing like throwing together a lecture at the last minute. I smiled at the older man, idly thinking about how much better this conversation was going compared to our introduction, what now felt like a distant memory. "Is there anything else you're looking for, um, sir?"
"Just present your findings, Doctor. The more they know, the better they'll do their jobs without having to feel everything out from step one." He gave us each a level look. "Briefing room, fourteen hundred."
"We'll be there, sir," Carter promised, throwing him a quick salute. I muttered something along that line, and we made a dash for the exit. She was spryer, with a bounce in her step that I was lacking.
Nearly two days had passed since our return from Chulak. My time had been totally occupied by meetings, medical exams and alerts to punctuate my days. There'd also been forms. Tons and tons of forms, befitting of any properly run bureaucracy. Each one carried the pretense of allowing me to resume my miserable life on the godforsaken planet. More importantly, they ensured I would remain at the Stargate facility as a "civilian advisor," with whatever rights and privileges the position allowed me.
Admittedly, the title sounded good. It ensured I maintained the clearance needed to work in the program, and hopefully to go out with Jack on SG-1. Even so, the description still tempted me to give a loud and irritable "woohoo," mostly due to Jack's influence. So what? My pessimistic side suggested it was more of an attempt to keep me occupied with the promised research and the hope of finding Sha're. If I stayed, I wouldn't have to go through unnecessary processes the military undoubtedly had reserved for people who knew way too much for their own good.
Did it really matter in the end? The place wasn't exactly swarming with civilians as it was in the days when I first joined the program, and I wasn't about to go anywhere. It was still a little disconcerting to be the token civilian in a sea of olive and camouflage. It was kind of like trying to get into the Olympics when all you can do is the doggie paddle while everyone else is dong the marathon breaststroke, so to speak. Good luck on keeping up, Jackson.
"So, where do you think we should work?" Carter asked, trying to make conversation as we went. She sounded cheerful, as though the challenge of alien technology was all she needed for inspiration. Whatever the cause, it was catchy enough to alleviate the now-familiar melancholy I'd been trapped in far too often since returning to Earth. It didn't relieve it completely, but at least it made a good dent.
"It doesn't matter to me. Whatever works best for you, I guess? The last thing I heard, I still don't have an office." I gave a sigh as I shoved my hands in my pockets. "The person in charge of assigning them promised me they're working on it, but that can mean anything."
She gave me a sympathetic look. It was a familiar complaint I'd been grumbling about since our return. The office request was one of the first ones I'd filled out, and by some cosmic law of illogical order, it was going to be the last one granted. Typical, but how was I supposed to get any work done? The bunkroom I'd been assigned was nice, but I needed the space an office would provide... not to mention the shelves for my planned library that would take up most of the room.
"Really? I had no problems. We can pester them, if you want." She gave me an optimistic smile that I didn't quite share. "Okay, so how about my office? Do you want to meet me there with your stuff?"
"Better yet. Let me grab my stuff and let's stake out the cafeteria." The insomnia I suffered was both natural and self-induced, the latter to complement the original. I could only imagine the dreams waiting to ambush me the moment I tried to close my eyes. The last time I'd tried to sleep, god knows when, I dreamed about Sha're, or rather the creature wearing her body. Coffee was my current mode of prevention, a sure-fire way to keep the dreams away until I was able to handle them. It was just about time for my next infusion, according to the fog in my head. "I could use some coffee."
"Mmm, coffee," she grinned. "Brilliant idea, Doctor! I could use some just about now."
"Then lead the way."
Ten minutes later, individual papers in hand, we arrived at the mess hall. For a cafeteria, the SGC's mess hall was fairly decent. The meals weren't stellar, but they weren't unidentifiable. I'd seen worse on digs in the Middle East, where anything not labeled and recognizable was neatly avoided unless someone wanted a date with food poisoning. As almost a direct contrast, the food offered here was decent, and the coffee a lifesaver after hours spent staring at glyphs no one on Earth had understood in millennia. In the days since Chulak, the mess hall had been an early morning refuge, and ironically enough, they were the same staff from a year ago. That meant the first coffee brewed that day had the initials of a certain PhD on them, thank you very much!
Everything had pretty much been picked over by the time we arrived, but a few sandwiches had survived the onslaught. Carter and I both grabbed one, barely looking at the labels as we stuck them on the tray we'd agreed to share. She added jello, then grabbed a second one. At my perplexed look, she just smiled.
"I always go for the jello when I've got a project to do," she confessed with a sheepish grin. "Less fattening."
"I do coffee," I said, getting our mugs filled. A fresh pot had just finished brewing, for which I nodded thanks to the lady behind the counter. We collected our meals, Carter leading the way to the table as I followed with the tray.
We spread our things out in the far corner, away from the few tables toward the middle filled with airmen enjoying the respite from the alerts. Carter glanced up from her folders, laughing as she saw me holding my mug up to my face, inhaling that unique aroma for several moments. A part of me was still thrilled with the fact that I could have coffee whenever I wanted, and the novelty hadn't worn off yet.
"I think I've seen that reaction before," she teased. "It's kind of like a man finding an oasis in a desert."
"Run with that." A long sip started to refuel caffeine stream. "Oh, I guess I should get my stuff ready..."
She waited for me to get everything out, starting on her sandwich in the meantime. Compared to her organized folders and the color-coordinated sticky notes, I didn't have very much. I had a few of the journals I'd brought back from Abydos, with the notes from my research interspersed with journal entries, but that was about it.
"This isn't something I'd say to just anyone," she said, blue eyes twinkling, "but how are you liking Earth so far?"
I laughed, shoving the journals aside to get at my sandwich. "Just had to ask it, huh?"
"I'm a sucker for new experiences. That's what got me started working on the Stargate program in the first place." She waved the sandwich slice for emphasis. "And after the last few days, all the work I put in for the last three years finally paid off with the ride of my life."
I lifted my eyebrows, encouraging her to continue. The first taste of tuna reminded me that the last I'd eaten was sometime the day before. "So what would you be doing if you weren't working for Catherine?"
A wistful look came over her face. "Actually, I'd probably be in NASA. It's what I was hoping for when I was growing up. Catherine just got to me before they did."
I couldn't help smiling. "Ah, but this is just about the same, right?"
"It's like the difference between regular and decaffeinated coffee. They taste the same, but you get more of a kick out of the regular. NASA would be nice, but while they're working on getting to Mars, I've already been to a planet! Two, actually!" She grinned before going back to pestering. "So? Did you miss Earth at all?"
The sandwich wrapping was suddenly very interesting. "Actually, no. I, uh, didn't really miss it at all. Well, the coffee... maybe the facilities... oh, and the books and the artificial light..." I had a wry smile. "Otherwise, no."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." And she did look apologetic, finding papers in need of sorting just at that moment.
"Ah, I'm used to the idea. It's okay, Captain Doctor."
She held up a finger. "Okay, first off, before we get down to business, there's one thing we really have to get established."
"Oh?" I glanced up with a little smile. "What's that?"
"Well, if we're supposed to be working together in SG-1, and since you're not military --"
"Thanks for reminding me," I said dryly, fingering my hair. "I almost forgot looking in the mirror this morning with the uniform and everything..."
She laughed. "No problem! But please, call me Sam. Well, unless we're on a mission and there's some level of protocol..."
"Right, well... call me Daniel, then." It was more formality than anything else, but she'd been addressing me with a mixture of both Daniel and Doctor Jackson, with more of a leaning toward the latter. Let the bigwigs and the people who didn't know me give me the title. I'd rather have my friends call me by name.
"Great!" she said. She took another bite, then glanced at her watch and her eyebrows raised, almost in alarm. I looked at her in question, and she quickly swallowed. "Well, General Hammond wants us giving that presentation at fourteen hundred, and that's in less than three hours."
"Three hours? That's not too bad. I've pulled undergrad essays together in less time." I eyed her folders, than my books. "Well, we might as well start now, huh? I guess we can't say that the Goa'uld ate our homework, huh?"
"Good excuse given our situation, but I doubt they'd buy it. So... what do we know?" She rearranged her folders, spreading them a little further. "Maybe we should start from the beginning, then we can build from there."
"Right." I took one last sip to fuel myself before starting to ramble off the basics. "Well, we have a two-story ring made of an ore not of Earth origin but apparently common on other planets throughout the universe. Provenience is Giza, Egypt, from Doctor Langford's 1928 expedition. The Stargate's construction was radiocarbon dated to roughly ten thousand before present, give or take two thousand years. It's assumed the Goa'uld built the Stargates. The artifact was buried by the Ancient Egyptians sometime in the Bronze Age, suggested by historical records uncovered on the planet Abydos. Anything else?"
"That's about it on the historical aspect. The mechanics are a little more complicated. The Stargate's inner ring has thirty-nine symbols, thirty-eight of which represent constellations. The thirty-ninth is unique to each device, representing each planet of origin. Any permutation of six symbols, followed by the point of origin, represents a planet within the network. When these coordinates are activated, the ore is fueled by energy and a wormhole is activated."
"Like a combination look," I nodded. On a piece of paper, I scribbled down the points we'd both made so far, hopefully catching everything. "Okay, so that's what we see when the Stargate's activated."
"Right." She gave me a smile and launched into a line of technobabble that would have Scotty from Star Trek blushing. I tried to keep up with her, even though I had no clue what the words meant. I could pick out the odd morpheme from its Latin or Greek roots, but that was about it. She finished about a minute later, her cheeks pink with her excitement. "What do you think, Daniel?"
"Uh..." I blinked at her. "I think I lost you with the first line."
"Sorry!" she exclaimed, looking slightly bashful. "I tend to do that when I'm excited."
"It's okay. I'll just be on the lookout for you the next time I'm in the mood to give a lecture on Ancient Egyptian linguistics."
"I'll remember to avoid that," she said, returning my grin. " I guess I'll be the one presenting this part. What about the little device on Abydos?"
"Ah. Well, I found it off to the side of the temple, so I guess it could be nicely put away when it is not being used. That's probably why our team on the last mission didn't find it." I tapped my pen on the paper thoughtfully, looking up at Sam. I could almost guess what the question forming on her lips was. "I have the feeling that the one from Giza was destroyed when the uprising against Ra happened. They look rather fragile, don't they?"
"Yeah, kind of," she agreed, "but maybe it's still there. It could be that no one's found it yet."
"After sixty-eight years?" I shook my head. "Sam, if there was something there, they'd have found it by now. Hell, I've excavated there a few times, probably right by the area Doctor Langford worked on back then, too. I admit that it might be there, but I don't think it's likely."
"Or maybe it's sitting in someone's collection somewhere."
That point I hadn't considered yet. Sam grinned as I stopped, digging into her jello with a triumphant grin. I scribbled the point down on the sheet, raising my eyebrow slightly. The point was certainly valid, something I planned to pursue -- covertly -- when the chance came up. I still doubted it, but if Sam was right, the probability was there.
I glanced up at Sam for a moment. The way she attacked the dessert reminded me a little of Sha're. My wife and the Captain Doctor were otherwise nothing alike, but both were strong women. We'd made a bet once, over who could do a task better than the other. I'd failed miserably and in return, I'd made her the local equivalent of apple pie. Well, it hadn't really been a pie, and they weren't apples that I used, but Sha're had loved the results, digging into it the same way Sam was now.
The memory of the bright, loving smile filled my memory, and I had to close my eyes to stop the stinging that foretold of tears about to form. Sha're's loss was still too fresh. Anything that reminded me of her was painful, from the mention of her name to memories that came at moments such as these. The only consolation I had was that one day, somehow, I'd have Sha're in my arms again. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later, if Jack had anything to do with it.
I must have had a sad expression on my face, because Sam stopped in mid-bite, concern on her features as she watched me. "Daniel?"
"Hmm?" I gave her a sad smile, confirming the suspicions.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I gave a bit of a shrug, studying the cooled contents of my mug. The black liquid was catching the light as it swayed from side to side, and I stared it hypnotically. The mug was more than half empty, almost a physical metaphor for my life at the moment, which was getting way to philosophical even for me at the moment. I put it down next to the tray, trying to think of words to use.
"I've been better," I admitted, giving her a halfhearted smile despite my best intentions. The energy for the effort was more than a little lacking, that was for sure. "I'm just... easily distracted, I guess."
Her smile was sympathetic. "The colonel was right, you know. We are going to find both Sha're and Skaara. And I'll be there to help in any way I can."
"Thanks," I murmured.
Time was slipping by. We both realized that we needed to get a lot more work done before we could have something decent to present. I'd been right in my original musings in the control room. Sam did know a lot more than me, and she quickly absorbed all the information I'd gathered about the Stargate's complementary device. Everything she stated, I wrote down as though trying to get an outline ready for a paper.
I'd scratched out three sheets with notes, and as Sam sorted through her folders for diagrams she'd draw up on an overhead, I reorganized all the information again. My hope was that it would be ordered from the historical to the technical. My research would fit in toward the beginning, and Sam would carry on for the latter portion of the presentation, however long it lasted. For that, I was grateful, since I felt as though I was beginning to reach the point before the final stretch of my caffeine induced endurance. As it was, my writing was messier than usual, and thoughts weren't as cohesive as they could have been.
Not for the first time, I wished that sleep were more of a luxury item than a necessity. That way, sleep could be avoided indefinitely, or at least until recent events were old enough not to be fresh in my mind. The dreams of my Goa'uld infected wife were too vivid, her spectral presence invading whatever efforts my subconscious tried to erect to keep her at bay. The cold eyes staring at me, the beautiful face impassive as though I were only another inconsequential slave... These would haunt me for more than a few nights, I knew. Why couldn't I remember the year on Abydos more clearly than I remembered the three glimpses of my stolen Sha're?
My mind had faded at some point, my pen scribbling words not entirely recognizable down the line and below it. I blinked hard, frowning at my wandering concentration and myself as I scratched the scrawls out. I had to get more coffee, and I would, just as soon as I finished the points I was trying to write out.
The sound of a chair scraping across the floor brought my attention back again to the events surrounding our table. Jack had plunked himself down in the chair, commandeering it to my side. He had a cup of coffee in hand, eyebrow lifted slightly as he noticed my startled expression. I hadn't even seen him approaching the table. I knew I was sometimes absent-minded, but this was ridiculous.
"Hey, kids!" he greeted, in a voice that sounded chipper than I felt. He surveyed the table's contents as he took a long sip of his drink. "Whatcha up to?"
"Just working on a presentation for General Hammond, sir," Sam replied, a smile on her face. "We're just pulling together the details and organizing them."
"Yeah?" he asked. He reached past me to snag one of the sheets I'd been working on. His dark eyes ran down the scribbles, and I'm positive he didn't understand most of them. "Nice sketches, Daniel. So what's it about? The Stargate?"
"Mostly," I nodded, "but we're throwing in everything each of us has collected separately."
"Ah. That's... interesting. You might want to add something about the art of going through the Stargate. You know, not skidding on the other side or tumbling." Jack gave a little smirk at that point, since of the three of us, he'd been through it the most often. He set the paper back down. "So how's it coming?"
"Slow." Sam put down her jello to move more papers. "We're going to have something coherent at the end of it, but I'm starting to come to the conclusion that the General's more interested in what we don't know than what we do know."
"Don't blame him. I don't pretend to know more than the basic points, but I'm guessing there's a ton that's still more in your department than ours." Jack noticed the untouched jello on my side of the table, glancing at me in question as he spoke. "If it were me, I'd say I just work here."
"Wish I'd thought of that," I muttered, nudging the glass his way.
"Anyway, what I'm more concerned about is if we end up on a planet without one of those little techno thingies... whatever they're called." He toyed with a spoon for a moment. "Come to think of it, do they actually have a name? I'm going to feel like an ass if I have to keep orderin' you guys to dial up the thingie home."
I couldn't help smiling at that point. "Technically, no. When I found it in the temple, no one knew what it was. We even brought Kasuf over, but he'd never heard of such a thing. Ra apparently hasn't really used the Stargate in centuries, preferring the old-fashioned way of traveling in his spaceship."
"Yeah, but he did get the element of making a colossal impression when he landed that thing." Jack shook his head in memory. I remembered it just as well, how we'd climbed the last sand dune before the temple only to be overcome with the sight of the pyramid-shaped ship resting on the horizon. "But you haven't called it anything?"
"Well, Skaara did nickname it a raatan'ai," I admitted, "but I have no clue what the real name is..."
"Raw... what?" Jack frowned.
"What does that mean?" asked Sam, ever the curious.
"Um, 'little thing that goes with the Chaapa'ai,' actually." I chuckled, remembering how intensely Skaara had examined the device along with me, measuring its dimensions for me to write down. He'd noticed its association with the Stargate before I even had a chance to really take a look at it, announcing his discovery in a rapid pidgin of English and Abydonian. "Actually, he wanted to call it an 'oneel,' but Sha're..." I had to give a painful pause to keep my voice from breaking. "Sha're talked him out of it."
Jack had a sad smile at the news, both from his own pain and from sharing mine. It quickly replaced the initial humor of learning about his briefly considered namesake. "That's my boy."
The story left a heavy silence over the table. Sensing our discomfort, Sam went back to her folders, sorting in silence while glancing up at us every so often. Jack was attacking his jello as though he was expecting a Goa'uld to wiggle its way out of the green depths. I decided to get more coffee, excusing myself quietly to flee the heavy atmosphere. The staff had made more sandwiches since we passed through, so I grabbed one, setting it aside as I zeroed in on the freshly brewed pot. One of the ladies smiled at me, joking that I should just leave the mug and take the pot.
Not a bad idea!
I was surprised to find Jack and Sam talking upon my return. It took me a moment or two to get the topic, but it was quickly clear that they were back discussing the Stargate's accessories. The mention of P575, the planet Hammond had assigned to SG-1, made it clear Jack wanted to know more about it.
"Okay, yeah, so we survived without one here, but as you put so nicely on Abydos, it took your group fifteen years to put a system together to run the Stargate," Jack was pointing out.
"Right, but we macgyvered one nicely, don't you think?" Sam was having a proud moment. "All we needed to do was find a way for our technology to correspond with the alien circuitry. I mean, before that we were doing it all by hand, the way you guys did to get home the first time from Abydos."
"Right, and it took a hell of a long time. I had Ferretti and Kawalsky working for about, oh, hell, half an hour to get it working." Jack glanced at me as I got settled. "Wouldn't you say that was right, Daniel?"
"Yeah, more or less," I nodded. "Though we did have to start from scratch because two of the symbols were confusing. You know, there's one that looks like a broken mirror and another like a bow without an arrow, and we had to --"
"So we had to do it by hand and it took a long time," Jack repeated, cutting off my discourse. I nodded at him, and he turned a satisfied smile to Sam. "All right, enough said. We can dial out manually, but we need a power source, you were saying?"
She nodded. "Yes, and the Abydos Stargate was still connected to the device which means that it had enough power to work when your team dialed manually. If we go to a planet where the device is missing like ours is, we'd be in trouble if there's no power immediately available to it."
"Ouch. Mark that down as something for the MALP's to watch out for, Captain. I don't want something like that happening. As much as I love the exotic locales, I'd rather choose my retirement rather than have it chosen for me."
"Yes, sir," she chuckled.
"Oh, and Captain? What the hell does macgyver mean?"
Sam laughed her way through an explanation, which ended with Jack muttering that she just should have said it in the first place. I shook my head at their antics, nursing my coffee as I watched. Their levity was easing my unease about my missing family, allowing me to relax slightly in my seat. I noticed that I wasn't the only one in the doldrums.
Behind Jack's grin lurked shadows, nearly invisible at the moment due to his laughter. The tangent about Skaara's nickname for the little device had brought it out. The line of tension between his brows hadn't eased.
"So what brings you to these parts, Jack?" I asked when there was a lull in their conversation.
"Just passin' through, I guess." With the jello finished, Jack played with the spoon for a few seconds before setting it down with a sigh. "Okay, I admit it. I need company."
Sam glanced at me before addressing the colonel. "And you happened to drop by our table?"
He shrugged. "Well..."
"Did you visit Kawalsky?" I asked.
"No, not yet. He's still in the infirmary, getting checked out by the doc last I heard." His mouth straightened into a firm line, the top thinning almost to non-existence. "I did pay a visit to both Hammond and Teal'c, though."
"Oh?" I perked up at the news. "How's Teal'c doing? I haven't had a chance to see him yet today."
Jack snorted. "Oh, the big guy's peachy. Just stuck in that damned room, that's all."
"You know why he's there, sir," Sam reminded him. "As far as the General's concerned, Teal'c's a potential security hazard. I gathered from our debriefing that Teal'c was actually here on Earth during the attack. I actually don't blame the General for his concern."
"Yeah, I know, but he saved our lives!" he protested. "He helped us save all those lives when he was under orders to kill us. I basically told him that we're a people who value freedom and all the stuff that Daniel's always spouting here, and here we are locking him in a room."
I started to protest, not liking it when someone spoke about me when I was in the room, not to mention the table, when Sam immediately cut off my words before they could form.
"Look, sir, it's going to work, but we have to give it time. They didn't build Rome in a day."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Cliches, Captain?"
"When in Rome..."
"Okay, that hurt." He shook his head, then sighed. "Yeah, I know it's going to take time, but frankly I'm worried that we're not going to have any time. I mean, as we speak there's some moron from NID making his way down here. Colonel Kennedy, I think the name is. They want to take Teal'c to their place to do a little bit of 'research' on him."
"Like a guinea pig?" I gasped.
"One big alien guinea pig," he confirmed.
"But they can't do that! Teal'c's an intelligent being! Granted, he's not from this planet, but he's got to have some kind of rights." The news made my blood ran cold. "And don't they have the bodies of the Jaffa that were killed in the first attack?"
"Yeah, probably being diced up nice and neat right at the moment. The thing is that they probably want the information he likely has, and I'm not just talking about stuff that'll be handy for our purposes. I've dealt with NID before." Jack made a face. "You know the joke about military intelligence? It's about these people."
Sam gave a small smile. "Just ignore him, Daniel. The NID are just very interested in getting whatever information they can get, and I guess you could say that Teal'c is going to be an abundance of information."
"Yeah, but wouldn't it be better if it's not squeezed out of him?"
"You'd think they know that..." Jack shrugged, fingers moving restlessly on the table. "We're expecting this Kennedy in a couple of hours, and I don't give a rat's ass about what this dear old colonel might say, 'cause I'm going to show up for this debrief come hell or high-water!"
"Need help?" Sam volunteered.
"Nah, but I appreciate the thought. Right now, I'm just this far," the distance an inch between his forefinger and thumb, "from going right in and sabotaging the proceedings, but I think I'll be nice. Very, very nice. Helpful, even."
"How devious of you," I mumbled, draining the rest of my mug.
We didn't get much work done for the remainder of Jack's visit, though I'm sure if we actually had worked on it, the colonel's eyes would have glazed over as he walked away like a bug getting a sniff of insect repellant. I should have thought of that, and I'll keep it in mind for future reference. At the time, though, conversation went back to P575 and the preparations we'd have to make before heading out on our mission.
That's when he mentioned the gun, using the word as an object attached directly to my name.
At that point, I hadn't been paying attention, finding myself focusing briefly on the notes in front of me while my friends spoke. Hearing my name, hopefully not used in vain, I glanced up to see them both watching me. I felt like a mouse being sized up by hawks in the moment before it's seized for lunch.
"What?" I asked, hoping I hadn't missed anything important. If I had, I hoped they'd fill me in on what it was.
Jack was very careful in what he wanted to get across, using a firm voice but a friendly tone. "There's a few things you need to brush up on in order for Hammond to let you stay permanently on SG-1."
"Oh..." It wasn't surprising. I nodded encouragingly. "Like what? I know I don't have a quarter of the experience you guys have."
"You think?" Jack glanced at Sam. "Actually, Daniel, you did handle yourself really well on Abydos when we were fighting Ra, and that's to your advantage. We just need to hone these things. I'm not saying we want you to become a soldier, but it's the little things that'll make it a lot safer for you to go out with us to possibly hostile planets."
"Things like self-defense," Sam added, leaning forward with her arms crossed on the table. "Some hand-to-hand combat would be a good asset."
"Okay." That sounded good.
"And there's the matter of carrying a personal armament when we're in the field. You need to qualify for that." Jack's dark eyes were fixed on me as he spoke.
"Armament?" My mouth went dry at the word. "As in --"
"A gun."
I was silent for a few moments. True, I'd used one on Abydos to defend my people and myself, but that was a necessity. I'd never used one before, and to be honest, if I had to use one again, it would be too soon. It had felt foreign to my fingers, its weight unwieldy and the recoil from the explosion enough to jar my unsuspecting wrist. It was funny how it didn't look that bad on television compared to reality.
"Why?" I felt like a mildly petulant child as I spoke.
"Because it's mandatory," he said patiently. "From everything we went through on Abydos, you should realize that, Daniel. You're just asking for disaster if you're not armed. Common sense."
Sam added a sympathetic point. "It's not like we're asking you to be an aggressor. Far from it. But if the need arises for you to defend yourself or the entire team from the Goa'uld or any other hostiles, we want you to be prepared."
"Gotta protect our little investment here," Jack added, tapping my forehead with a grin. "And I know Sha're would appreciate it if you're in one piece when it comes time to bring her home, hmm?"
Despite my intention to continue protesting, the mention of my wife made me quiet in contemplation. I knew they were right, but the idea of carrying a gun still made me uneasy. I knew I wasn't a complete pacifist, as past events had shown. When what I cherished was threatened, I had acted to protect it. But I worried that if this weapon was with me at all times, would it make me different? Would it change who I was and, god forbid, make me the same kind of aggressor I was to defend myself against?
Or was I just overreacting?
More than likely.
We would have stayed longer, but circumstances didn't let us. Sam was fortunate enough to glance at her watch, nearly panicked as she realized that the time had trickled down to a mere twenty minutes before our presentation was due. She jumped up from the table, gathering her papers together, likely not in their respective folders, as she babbled about the things she had to do. There were a few overheads she wanted to make, particularly of the Stargate and its accessories from different angles and details.
"Look at her go," Jack commented as we stared after her. Her last words about meeting me in the briefing room still lingered around the table as the door shut behind her. "That's what I call bein' in a hurry. I hope there's no casualties..."
I had to chuckle, even though I was in the process of collecting my own things. "Well, it's not a rare phenomenon. I've got to get ready for this, too."
"Just don't take anyone out while you're on your mad dash," he grinned, watching the pile of journals grow, topped by the half-filled coffee mug. I yawned as I worked, the action escaping before I realized it. He raised an eyebrow. "When's the last time you slept, Daniel?"
I shrugged. "No clue. I'm not doing too bad, actually. Busy. Stressed. A little tired. Nothing new."
"Uh, huh. You are going to get some sleep, right? As in today? Not two days from now?" He was using a tone that I'd come to call his "friendly C.O. voice, stern command backed by well-meant concern. "Call it quits after this presentation. We're not heading out on the road anytime soon, so just take it easy."
"Right..." I wanted to tell him that I couldn't possibly sleep. The dreams just weren't worth it right now. And frankly, to use a variation of one of Sam's common phrases, with all due respect, m.y.o.b. Have a nice day.
Jack held the coffee cup as I lifted the journals, setting it beneath my chin once I was ready to head off. He looked me over, a knowing look on his face. "It'll get better. The dreams won't be so bad after a while."
And with that, he left me to wander off.
It was almost merciful that our presentation was cut short by Kawalsky's strange behavior in the embarkation room. By the time Hammond's people had settled down in their chairs, my mind was beginning to fuzz out. I know I was mumbling by that time, my voice getting rough with fatigue. Sam was a trooper, giving me the odd funny look as she wrote down my points on the board, while I rambled on about the device. The little red laser pointer wavered unsteadily on the image posted on the whiteboard, jerking slightly whenever I moved.
To be honest, my part in the entire endeavor reeked. As soon as Jack came to take Kawalsky back to the infirmary to hopefully solve the mystery of his blackout, Sam and I were cleaning up our materials. Whatever information we'd collected would be fleshed out by a technical writer on staff somewhere, turned it into a body of text that could be revised each time more information came out. Once everything was back in Sam's office, since as of last check I still didn't have a reply on my office situation, I finally was sent off to bed.
Settling in would take a long time, probably just as long as it would take me to get to the point where the mere mention of Sha're's name in public wouldn't case me to tear up. Time would make it a little better, but more importantly, it was something I had to face. Cowering from the pain wouldn't make it any better, and it wouldn't get Sha're home any faster. Patience and the help of my newfound friends would be the key to any success I might have.
Scholars are warriors of the pen, using ink to forge words designed to last for years, even centuries. Things military were items to be studied, forces of history and politics that shaped the world but rarely left a lasting impression. With SG-1, however, I would have to learn to meld the two, whether or not it may be an uneasy alliance. By the example of Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter and Teal'c, I could do it...
And by getting to know my friends, I'd get to know myself.
© June 9, 2000 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.
Author's Notes: This is an ongoing series about friendship and discovery; while this is the last in Daniel's series, there's still Jack, Sam and Teal'c to write about eventually. :) This entire series is dedicated to friends, from RL and would-be RL, who provide their thoughts, laughter, problems and joy to my life. Y'all know who you are. :)
Thank you to Miki and Jmas for proofing, Maria Guyan and Jennifer Thompson for their virtual and actual (in that order) sympathetic ears.