CHAPTER 1 - CHILDREN OF THE GODS
First (and second) Impressions
Part 1 - Prologue
Journal Entry, Abydos
Second month, third season, Day 12
The Stargate opened up today, for the first time since I've been living here.
I was working in the map room, continuing my research on the glyphs, when Skaara ran in, out of breath and yelling my name. He was so excited he was talking in a mixture of Abydonian and the English he is trying so hard to learn, speaking so fast I could barely understand him. I did catch the word chaapai'ai, and that was all it took to get me moving, even without him grabbing my arm and pulling me after him. As we ran toward the chamber he told me, between gasps of breath, that a 'box' had come through the Stargate.
A box. Oh my god. All I could think was that Earth had somehow found out that the Gate hadn't really been destroyed a year ago and they were sending a bomb through now to rectify that. But... Jack wouldn't let them do that. He couldn't let them do that. But what if... I forced myself to stop thinking and concentrated on running.
The boys were all gathered around the Stargate when we got there, and they parted to let us through. By then my legs were shaking, I was gasping for breath and trying to steel myself for the worst.
Then I saw it, sitting there on the platform: it was a Kleenx box. In a daze I walked forward and bent over to pick it up. The next thing I knew I was sitting on the ground laughing, the kind of stomach-hurting, whooping laugher that brings tears to your eyes. I was getting some awfully strange looks from the boys, but I couldn't help it.
When I finally got myself under control I explained to them what it was and that it came from Earth.
"O'Neill?" Skaara asked immediately.
I nodded. It had to be. No one else knew we were here. And no one else would have chosen a Kleenx box as a messenger. I turned the box over in my hand. Now the question is: do I answer?
What happens if I do? What happens if I don't?
D. Jackson
*****
Part 2 - "I've just got a little problem with scientists."
*Captain Samantha Carter*
"Where's he transferring from?"
I'm prepared for that reaction. Having spent my whole adult life in the military -- and having grown up a military brat -- I know what to expect. The old boy network is alive and well in the Air Force.
"She is transferring from the Pentagon."
I snap a crisp salute to my new commanding officer and we study each other warily across the table. I'd done my research on Colonel Jack O'Neill, or at least as much research as his file allows, even given my security clearance. I even managed to talk to a few fellow officers who had served with him. I didn't get much out of them about the Colonel personally -- apparently he keeps his personal life to himself -- but to a man, they all agreed he was one of the finest officers they'd ever served with. The man is a natural leader, an officer who looks out for his team, and has an exemplary record. Just reading the list of commendations and medals he's earned indicates the extent of his commitment to his country and his ability to handle the tough jobs. There is no doubt in my mind that if I could pick a commanding officer to serve under, to learn from, it would be Colonel Jack O'Neill.
All I can hope is that he gives me a chance to prove that I'm worthy to be a part of that team. I've already got the Stargate Project, I know that, but I also know I need the Colonel on my side. He needs me on this team, and I need him in order to be accepted by the rest of the team and make this work. I can do it without their cooperation, but we won't be nearly as effective as a working unit. And I want this to work.
Obviously the Colonel doesn't know anything about my background or capabilities, so I start to fill him in. "Colonel, I was studying the Gate technology two years before Daniel Jackson made it work and before you both went through."
As soon as the words leave my mouth I know that is the wrong approach to take. I can see the slightly patronizing retort in his eyes: You may have studied it, Doctor, but you're not the one who made it work.
Even though he doesn't say it out loud, the silent reminder stings. No one has to remind me that I spent two years of my life with a room full of the best equipment and minds the military could provide, and a civilian linguist walked into this facility and solved the mystery of the Gate within two weeks.
"Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman." A pause. A little smirk, not enough to be insulting. "I like women. I've just got a little problem with scientists."
The remainder of the briefing pretty much goes as well as the beginning. This is not a good start.
***
The size of the Stargate is... incredible. I'd worked with models, with photographs, with prototypes. But nothing prepared me for my first sight of the real Stargate, pulsing with energy.
"Move out."
The team goes up the ramp to disappear into the wormhole, but I stand there at the bottom, still staring, still trying to wrap my mind around the reality of what I am seeing.
"Captain?"
The Colonel's query interrupts my thoughts, but I still can't tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me. "Don't worry, Colonel, I won't let you down."
There's a touch of sarcasm in his tone. "Good. I was going to say ladies first."
Then he's heading up the ramp and I quickly move to catch up with him. I feel the need to say something, anything, to reassure him that I wasn't freezing up, and that I can be counted on to pull my weight. What comes out of my mouth is anything but reassuring. "You know, you really will like me when you get to know me." I don't even want to think about what my father would say to a statement like that made to one's commanding officer.
The Colonel's response is everything I could hope it would not be: "Oh, I adore you already, Captain."
I have to admit, I deserve that.
Then all those thoughts fly right out of my mind as I'm up close and personal with the Stargate. I start babbling. I can't stop myself. And I reach out and touch it. "You can actually see the fluctuations in the event horizon!"
That's my last coherent thought as a shove from behind sends me into the wildest ride of my life.
*****
Part 3 - "Which means... she's smarter than you are, Colonel."
*Colonel Jack O'Neill*
"I'd like to think I've been preparing for this all my life."
Oh, wonderful. Not only another scientist, but a gung-ho, wet-behind-the-ears, wide-eyed Captain from the Pentagon. And despite what I see in that 'look' on her face, I don't give a damn that she's female. But...
"Another scientist? General, please."
"Theoretical astrophysicist," Carter corrects crisply.
"Which means...?"
"Which means... she is smarter than you are, Colonel."
Oh, thank you, General. Like I need reminding. And Kawalsky and Ferretti, if you don't get those smirks off your faces, we're going to be having a little chat after this briefing.
Well, I get their attention, at least. But the Captain still isn't finished with me. She's out to prove something in this meeting, to prove she's every bit as tough as any man on my team, to stamp her claim on this mission. I can't fault her for that. This has got to be one of the most exciting -- and dangerous -- projects in the military. What officer wouldn't want to challenge himself -- or herself -- with a mission like this?
But acceptance doesn't come in this room, Captain. It comes in the field, when I know your capabilities, when I decide I can trust you, when I see how you back up the team. You're on the team; there's nothing I can do about that. But you're not yet a part of the team. That comes later. If ever.
Arm wrestle? Might be interesting. But let's hope it doesn't come to that.
*****
Part 4 - "Doctor Jackson, I presume."
*Captain Samantha Carter*
I have practically memorized Daniel Jackson's works regarding the dating of the pyramids, pored over every article he's written, scrutinized every theory he's ever published.
I'd spent years in the Pentagon, with a research budget that would float a small nation, the latest in equipment, and the best and the brightest in scientific minds at my side. Then one day Doctor Daniel Jackson walks into Cheyenne Mountain, with nothing more than two battered suitcases to his name, and within two weeks he does something we hadn't been able to manage in two years: he opens the Stargate.
Daniel Jackson has become something of a legend because of that, a maverick multiple Ph.D who, according to everything I've heard, had been laughed out of academia for his radical views and was all but homeless when he was recruited by Catherine Langford for the Stargate Project.
And here I am, face to face with a legend.
I look around Colonel O'Neill to where Doctor Jackson is seated with his Abydonian wife snuggled against him and feel oddly disappointed. I want to be dazzled by the scientist whose work I so admire, a little awed in the presence of the man who had out-thought and out-theorized the best the military could gather under one roof. Instead I feel... a little superior, a little smug. After all, I've been on Earth engaged in some of the most challenging work known to mankind, while for the last year he's been here, doing ... what? Grinding his own flour? Playing house in 1500 BC? Where's the challenge here? What contribution is he making? Where's his intellectual stimulation for heaven's sake? The people seem nice enough, but this planet and his way of life can only kindly be described as primitive. How can he possibly be happy?
Then I see the look on his face as he turns to his wife, the way his face lights up and eyes soften; and I see the way the people here defer to him and show him the respect due a leader, a teacher, and I change my opinion, just a little. He seems happy enough, and content. A little voice inside me nags: Can I say the same?
Still, it's a shame he's wasting that brilliant mind of his. I have to wonder what a year exiled here on this desolate planet has done to his capabilities.
***
This room is incredible. It's got to be the archaeological find of the century. I think I say that out loud, but no one is paying attention.
The Colonel is trying to get an answer out of Doctor Jackson, and with more patience than I'd have credited him for, finally says pointedly, "Well, Daniel, we don't have that long. What's it a map of?"
Doctor Jackson blinks, then begins speaking, the words fairly tumbling out of his mouth too fast for me to follow. "Well, the cartouches seem to be separated clearly into groupings. Each grouping is attached to the others with a series of lines and each grouping of glyphs contains seven symbols. So you can see where this is going of course."
Colonel O'Neill obviously has no clue where this is going, but I do, and I'm ready for Doctor Daniel Jackson. As soon as he announces his theory, I step forward to refute it.
***
My God. There's nothing wrong with this man's mind. Talking to him is like talking to... myself. I swear we could finish each other's sentences! I'm right in his face and those blue eyes positively blaze with passion and intelligence as he processes everything I'm saying almost before the words have left my mouth. No linear thinking for Doctor Jackson; he's one of those intuitive geniuses whose minds take shortcuts most of us never see, leaping over barriers that would cause the more conventional thinker to stumble and fall, or even lose their way. By the time I finish with my explanation about Doppler shift, he's already there.
Please, Daddy, can I have one of these?
*****
Part 5 - "You mean I'm right...?"
*Doctor Daniel Jackson*
Well, I can see from her face the Captain (or is it Doctor? What does she want to be called?) isn't too impressed. It was obvious when we met that she was familiar with my work, but by now I can tell she's a little... disappointed. I'm not what she expected and she doesn't quite know what to make of me.
Well, I'm used to that. My foster parents, my teachers, my professors, my colleagues... none of them knew what to make of me, either. Only Sha're, and the people here on Abydos, ever accepted me as I am, never asked me to be anything other than who and what I am. To them, I am their teacher, their friend, a valued member of the community. To Sha're I am her husband, the man she loves. I have never felt so much a part of anything before. I have never belonged like I belong here.
But I can understand how Captain-Doctor Carter wouldn't understand that. She's probably belonged somewhere her whole life.
Sha're leans closer and whispers to me. She's so quick to pick up on my moods, and apparently I've been a little too quiet a little too long. She wants to know if I'm upset by our visitors, if their presence means something bad. I reassure her and she relaxes against me, her hand on my leg, a little protective gesture that warms my heart. What did I ever do to deserve such a loving woman, such happiness? I give her a quick, gentle kiss then turn my attention back to Jack.
Jack. It's good to see him again, and so good to see him looking so... alive. I was worried about him when we parted despite his reassurances at the time. After our destruction of Ra he seemed to have passed his crisis and I had hopes that he would heal from his terrible wound. I've spend a year wondering if he was all right, if he really had found some peace. It looks like he has.
***
"Jack, I think that this is a map of a vast network of Stargates; Stargates that are all over the galaxy!" I'd spent enough time in this room and charting the skies of Abydos to know I'm right.
Captain Carter speaks up immediately, "I don't think that can be, Doctor."
On Earth or Abydos, it's all the same, I realize. "Why not?" In other words, prove it,
Captain-Doctor.
The words come tumbling out of her mouth as she discounts my theory in the face of what she sees as overwhelming scientific evidence: She couldn't prove the Stargate went to any other destinations; therefore, it didn't. Earth or Abydos, it really doesn't make any difference; a closed mind is a closed mind.
"I did the same thing here and it didn't work either," I tell her. "I figured the locations I tried were either destroyed or buried. But, I mean, some of them somewhere must still exist."
She shakes her head. "I don't think so." She's being very polite about it, but she is most definitely dismissing me and any thoughts of other Stargates.
Look outside the box, Doctor, I want to urge her. Open your mind to the possibilities. But all I say, very carefully, is, "Then where did your Ra lookalike come from?"
Jack turns to her, eyebrows lifted, and she looks at us both, this time no ready answer on her lips.
Trying to hold onto my patience -- come on, people, it's possible! -- I stride across the room and wave at the hieroglyphics. "Look, I don't pretend to know anything about astrophysics, but couldn't the planets change, I mean, drift apart or something like that to throw this map off?"
It's like a light bulb being suddenly switched on. Her face animated with excitement, Carter moves to stand in front of me, something like admiration -- or is that relief? -- in her eyes. "I knew I'd like you."
All I can do is gape: "You mean I'm right?"
I'm only partially aware of Jack and Kawalsky standing on the sidelines, their faces blank as the Captain-Doctor and I... bond. She's not really closed-minded, I realize, she just needed a little nudge in the right direction, and that incredible brain of hers takes it from there.
I haven't had a conversation like this in... in a year. It's like getting a jolt of electricity, like she and I are traveling at breakneck speed down different tracks but both arrive at the same destination at the same time. It's exhilarating, it's stimulating, and I have to admit... I've missed that mental challenge during my year on Abydos.
Kawalsky's dry voice snaps us out of our reverie. "Okay, so what did we just figure out?"
Captain Carter slides me a look and a grin before turning back to her commanding officer and in that glance I see that she enjoyed it as much as I did.
You'll be all right, Captain-Doctor. Just keep your mind open to the possibilities, and you'll be fine. The Stargate is one hell of an adventure, and you've got it all ahead of you.
For a moment I wish...
No, no, I don't. Abydos is my home now, and I have Sha're. I wouldn't give this up for anything. I have found my adventure.
*****
Part 6 - "They don't know what to do with me... and I don't know what to do with myself."
*Jack O'Neill*
When I walk into the infirmary, Kawalsky is nodding off in the chair by Ferretti's side, the cup of coffee in his hand in imminent danger of tipping over into his lap.
"Doc says he's gonna make it."
The major blinks, and looks up. "Yes, sir." No hesitation there, a simple, determined affirmative.
"You going to stay here all night?"
"Yes, sir." Again, no hesitation; a simple, straight-forward confirmation.
I nod my understanding. It was Kawalsky's right; as CO I'd done the same thing myself in the past for a member of my team. Nodding again, I leave him to his vigil, a part of me selfishly grateful it isn't me. I'd done my share of bedside vigils in the past and too many of them hadn't turned out happily ever after. This is something I hadn't missed when I retired.
In the corridor I pull on my coat and head for the nearest elevator, my only thought to go straight home, have a hot shower, sink a six pack and put this whole stinking day behind me. I've almost reached the exit when I see him: Daniel. Slouched against a wall in the corridor staring off into space. With all the confusion after the attack, the debriefing, the report that Hammond wanted before the ink was dry, and a million and one details to take care of, I'd forgotten all about him. I feel more than a twinge of guilt about that and I stop, just short of making my escape. At least someone has seen to it he has some clothes other than those rags he was wearing when we came back, even if they don't seem to fit quite right; he looks like a kid dressed up in his big brother's clothes. Another twinge of guilt as I remember he was pretty much thrown on his own when we got back, and I doubt if anyone has given much thought to a bewildered civilian suddenly finding himself back on Earth after a year on an alien planet. Shit. The poor guy probably doesn't even know where he's going to sleep tonight.
Putting aside my impatient desire to just get the hell out of here, I walk over to join him.
"Hey."
He doesn't look at me, not directly. He just kind of slides me a sideways look. "They don't know what to do with me." There's that tentative, self-deprecating half-smile I remember from a year ago. "And I don't know what to do with myself."
When I hear the soft dejection in his voice, and see that lost look in his eyes, I suddenly realize what none of us here at SGC have given any thought to in view of the larger crisis we face: this guy has lost his wife, his family, his friends, his home back there on Abydos. I remember how the Abydonians had gathered around him when he left, listening to every word he said, trusting him, touching him, as if they could somehow keep a part of him for themselves after he was gone. This isn't the same clumsy, geeky linguist who walked into my life a year ago at SGC; this is a man who'd had the guts to start a new life on a distant planet and had become a respected leader and teacher of a community, a man who had found a life, a family, a home there. And now he's lost it all.
Christ, if some disaster had robbed someone here of all he had in one fell swoop, we'd have closed ranks around him, formed a plan of action in no time flat, and put the wheels in motion to help him through his trauma, giving him all the support we could muster. But with Daniel, we just let the poor guy wander around in a daze while the only person he really knew and probably trusted -- me -- was locked away in meetings and strategy sessions all day.
And in a way it all does come back to me. Daniel Jackson had been a member of my team on that first Stargate mission. He was my responsibility, and when I returned to Earth I kept his secret for a year, so in a way I've never really relinquished it.
So as much as I just want to go home -- alone -- and put today out of my mind, I can't leave him standing here like this. In a way, I guess he's still my responsibility, still a member of my... team.
My decision made, I clap him on the arm. "Come on. Let's get out of here." I head down the corridor, but I have to slow down and turn, motioning for him to follow before he makes a move to follow.
He looks uncertain at first, but there's a spark of hopefulness in his eyes as he finally gets his feet moving and trails after me.
***
The drive back to my place is silent, Daniel seemingly lost in his own thoughts. This is not how I remember Doctor Daniel Jackson. No siree, this guy likes to talk. About anything and everything. That's why the silence is so unnerving.
A year isn't really that long a period of time, and when I saw Daniel again on Abydos it was almost like we'd said our good-byes at the Gate a week ago, not a year. We had only been together a few days on that mission, but it had been an... intense few days. We had fought side-by-side and back-to-back, and you get to know someone pretty fast under those circumstances. On top of that, I'll be damned if the little dweeb hadn't stepped between me and a staff weapon and saved my life. I realized then there was more to Daniel Jackson than meets the eye.
I take my eyes off the winding road long enough to glance at him and am not reassured. I know that look. I should: I've seen it in the mirror often enough. Turning my attention back to the road, I take the turn-off that leads to my house and settle on my plan: get him drunk. So drunk he passes out. Because I know he's not going to get any sleep tonight if I leave him to his own devices.
The least I owe him is a place to stay, a little temporary amnesia, and a good night's sleep. I have a feeling the days ahead aren't going to get any easier.
*****
"I'm trying to kick the flour thing." At least I've gotten him to laugh, even if it's just a chuckle.
"This is going straight to my head." Daniel takes another quick drink of beer, blinking heavily. "What time is it anyway? I must have gatelag or something."
I can only shake my head at him. How did he ever survive Skaara's moonshine on Abydos? "For cryin' out loud, Daniel, you've had one beer. You're a cheaper date than my wife was." As soon as the words leave my mouth I see the curiosity in his eyes and realize my mistake. Too late now.
"Yes." He tilts his head, looking at me, his tone holding a teasing challenge, "When am I going to meet your wife?"
I'd never gotten around to telling him what had happened when I got back home after that first visit to Abydos. "Oh, probably... never." His eyes open wider and I shrug, as if it's no big deal. "After I came back from Abydos the first time she had already left."
He looks stunned and there's real regret in his voice as he says softly, "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, so was I." I remember some of our conversations back on Abydos during that first mission; for some reason I'd told this man things I'd never told anyone else. So it doesn't really seem strange for me to say, "I think in her heart she forgave me for what happened to our kid. But she couldn't forget."
"What about you?" he asks quietly, in that same gently intense way I remember so well.
He's an easy man to be honest with. Damn. I'd forgotten that. "I'm the opposite. I'll never forgive myself. But sometimes I can forget. Sometimes." I take another, longer drink, and after a moment he follows suit. It occurs to me that I've managed without even realizing it to get his mind off his own anguish, even if it's only for a little while.
Another beer, I figure, and he'll be out for the night. Best thing for him.
***
Part 7 - "Kill the rest."
*Jack O'Neill*
We are in deep, deep shit here. I've been over every inch of this place, and it's like some kind of medieval dungeon. We are well and truly secured in here.
Carter's stayed calm and militarily-correct through this whole thing, for which I give her a lot of credit; but Skaara's looking at me like he's sure I'm going to come up with some brilliant plan to save us all, and Daniel's looking at me like... hell, I can't even look at Daniel. When we walked through that Gate to Abydos Daniel was a happy, devoted husband with an adoring wife and a community that loved him. Now I see such desperation in his eyes that I've had to tell Carter to stick close to him and not let him out of her sight. He's already made one reckless move that got him knocked into next week; if he sees Sha're again, God only knows what he might do to try to save her.
***
"Kneel before your masters!"
Okay, I have reached my limit with these god-wannabes. Just when I decide that if they want me on my knees they're going to have to put me there, I catch the eye of that big guy who had questioned me earlier about my watch. He gives a warning nod, and after I get over the initial shock, I drop slowly to my knees and hiss for Skaara to do the same. What reason could that snakehead have for caring one way or the other if I get my head beat in? I keep one eye on the proceedings and the other eye on the big guy, who seems to be the snakehead in charge, trying to figure out what his game is, and if he can somehow be helpful to us. It doesn't seem likely, but you never know. An option is an option. And as far as I can see, that's one thing we're fresh out of.
It's because I've got my attention split that I miss it when Daniel makes his move. I grab for him, but it's too late. Damn it! The man has not changed, has not changed one bit.
"How much would I remember if you chose me?"
Oh shit oh shit. "Daniel, what are you doing?"
Desperation doesn't begin to define Daniel at this point. "Something of the host must survive?"
Oh, right, Daniel. Do you see anything of Sha're in that 'queen' up there? Again, I chance a look at the big guy and he slowly shakes his head. I narrow my eyes as I study the big snakehead, again wondering why he's giving away helpful information. What's his motive? Does he want something from us? Like we're in a position to do anything for him?
***
"Kill the rest."
With that order, Apophis leaves, taking Sha're with him.
The serpent guards are all lined up, their weapons ready, the prisoners are all panicking, and I take a chance, grab at the only option I can think of. It's a long shot, but it's the only shot we've got.
I turn to the big snakehead, who is joining the line-up of executioners. "I can save these people!" I yell at him. "Help me!" Turning, he just looks at me, face impassive. Oh hell. Our last chance. "Help me," I repeat, willing him to listen.
He speaks, his voice bitter. "Many have said that." Suddenly he turns and fires his staff weapon into the line of serpent guards, then wheels around and tosses the weapon to me. "But you are the first one I believe could do it." The next thing I know he's picked up another weapon and is firing with deadly accuracy at the other guards.
All right! It only takes a moment for my hands to adjust to this new weapon. We have a weapon and we have an ally, and that means we have a chance. I'm going to get my team and these people out of here.
At last, the enemy is dead and everyone is out and running for the Stargate. I stop and turn back. The big guy is still standing in the middle of the carnage, looking around at his fallen comrades, the people who, up to a few minutes ago, he had fought beside. "Hey, come on!"
He looks at me, face emotionless. "I have nowhere to go."
"For this you can stay at my place. Let's go!"
As he finally joins me, I ask, "What's your name?"
"Teal'c."
Teal'c. Okay, Teal'c, you're on my team now.
*****
Part 8 - "I have nowhere to go."
*Teal'c*
This human is different. I have been watching him. He is not afraid like the others we have captured, he has not been cowering like the others, hoping to be overlooked. Instead, he has been moving constantly, searching for a way to escape, his eyes missing nothing. I have been a warrior all my life and in this human I see another warrior. I would know more about this one.
***
"What is this?"
The human makes a face as I grasp his wrist to expose the ornament on his arm. "It's a watch."
"This is not Goa'uld technology. Where are you from?"
"Earth. Chicago if you --"
I grow impatient. "Your words mean nothing. Where are you from?"
"Um, excuse me." The young human with him speaks up, then leans over and draws a symbol on the dirt floor. "This is where we're from." This young one is not a warrior; in Goa'uld society writing is known only to the higher caste of Jaffa and priests. Is he a priest of his people? Or a scholar?
I stare at the symbol, then use my staff weapon to wipe out the forbidden writing and walk away, my mind spinning with what I have just learned. Tau'ri. These humans are the Tau'ri. But how can that be? According to the teachings, the Tau'ri world has been closed off from the Goa'uld for thousands of years.
And only the gods go through the chaapa'ai. How is it then these Tau'ri can travel through the chaapa'ai?
I must think on this and what it means.
***
The Goa'uld move among the prisoners, choosing and discarding humans at will. I have seen this many times. I have participated many times. Why, then, does it feel different this time? I look at the face of the Tau'ri warrior and I do not see fear; I see disgust, I see anger.
Then the young Tau'ri, the one who drew the symbol in the ground, jumps to his feet and offers himself as a host. Why would he do this? Then I remember his actions at the feast when he tried to approach my lord's new queen, and I begin to understand. Could the host of my lord's queen be this human's mate? Is this why he makes the offer, because he thinks this will allow him to be with her?
"Something of the host must survive?"
The warrior human glances at me as if asking a question. I shake my head. It is a small motion that only he sees, but I sense that he understands. His face tightens and I see his body poise; if the young Tau'ri is chosen, he will not be taken without a fight.
***
"I can save these people! Help me!" I turn to face the Tau'ri warrior. He meets my eyes, his face determined, pleading. "Help me."
He can save these people. Yes, he truly believes that, and he is willing to try. "Many have said that," I tell him, remembering bitterly the failed attempts in our history at freeing my people. But these humans are the Tau'ri and they have come through the chaapa'ai. Perhaps these are the ones who can do it. I make my decision. Turning, I fire into the line of serpent guards who until this moment were my comrades, then throw the weapon to the Tau'ri warrior. "But you are the first one I believe could do it."
When it is all over, I walk slowly among the dead, only now acknowledging what I have done. Beneath these helmets are friends and fellow warriors who trusted me, who I trained with, fought beside.
"Hey, come on!"
I look up. The Tau'ri warrior is standing outside the hole he has made in the wall; all the prisoners are gone. "I have nowhere to go." I have been trained as a Jaffa my entire life and I have just turned my back on my home and all I have been taught and trained for.
The human just waves a hand. "For this you can stay at my place. Let's go!"
I join him outside. I do not know where we will be going, but I have now joined this Tau'ri, and there is no turning back.
*****
Part 9 - Epilog
Journal Entry, Earth
August 1, 1997
Sha're is gone. Jack says we'll find her. If anyone can, he can.
I sit here and look at those words: Sha're is gone. One simple sentence to say so much, to express so much pain.
Jack says we'll find her.
Jack's been great through all this. He's made me welcome in his home, went to bat with General Hammond for me when the general wanted to keep me on base as a consultant, and has generally tried to keep me too busy to do much thinking. He insists all this training (which he is personally overseeing) is necessary if I'm to be a member of SG-1. Self-defense, weapons, signaling, field first aid, survival. Captain Carter said he could have sent me off-base to regular classes for this type of training, but he worked out a way to have it all done on-base. I guess he understands I want to stay close to the Stargate, just in case...
Anyhow, he did turn me over to Medical for the first aid training, and even pressed Captain Carter into action, but he's doing the weapons training and self-defense himself. I'm not happy about the weapons part, but he won't budge on that. He said there could come a time when I need to defend Sha're or a member of the team, and I guess he has a point. So I'm putting in my time on the range and am determined to pass everything I need to in order to be a member of Jack's team. If anyone can find Sha're, it's Jack; and I'm determined to be there when he does.
I've never been a member of a... team before. Not like this. I hope I fit in.
Captain Carter -- Sam -- has been very supportive. Once I told her how important it was I didn't screw up and get myself thrown off SG-1, she took her own time to show me around the SGC and explain some of the 'internal politics' of the military and all the ranks and stuff so I didn't inadvertently do or say something stupid to get myself into trouble. It turns out her father is a general and she was an Air Force brat, so she pretty much knows all there is to know about the military. She's also just about the only person on base I can really talk to about my theories and not be faced with a blank stare.
Teal'c, the Jaffa, hasn't been around much. I guess he's going through training, too. I'd like to talk to him about the Goa'uld to start documenting everything we know about them, and work with him on the language, but it almost seems like he's avoiding me. Like me, he's left a home behind and he's probably finding it hard to fit in here, too. He could probably use a friend. I'll try again tomorrow to track him down.
It's late now. Or early, depending on your point of view. I just made a fresh pot of coffee, so I'm set for a while. If Jack catches me though, it'll be another lecture, and depending on how bad I happen to look, he'll either turn on the TV and keep me company or bully me until I go to bed. I was able to use the 'I'm still on Abydonian time' excuse for a while, but I think that one's worn out. And I suspect he's been comparing notes with Sam, too. I think there's some kind of conspiracy going on. She keeps popping up unexpectedly if I decide to spend the night working in my lab, and Jack has a bad habit of catching me here on the sofa when I'm trying to avoid sleep.
I'm just trying to avoid the nightmares. I know they both understand; but they're both right, too. Eventually I'm going to have to sleep.
Uh oh. I hear footsteps. I can almost guarantee the next words I hear are going to be, "For crying out loud, Daniel, do you know what time it is...?"
D. Jackson
© November 15, 1999 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.