Title: A Priori

Author: Moonshayde

Season: Nine

Category: Drama, Angst, A/A

Spoilers: All seasons including Season Nine. Takes place before Crusade. SGA spoilers

Pairing/Character: Team (Season 9 but includes classic team)

Summary: As Doomsday talk increases across the galaxy, the SGC must band together with the Tok'ra, the Jaffa, the Asgard and other allies to stop a new threat from the Ori, while battling mistrust and treason within their own organization.

Warnings: minor language, violence

Rating: PG-13

 

Author's Notes:  Thanks to Meg, Shadowolf, Misty, Martyfan, and Aurora Novarum for their help. Any other errors are my own.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

"Do you know where I could locate this boy?"

 

"Jonathan O'Neill?"

 

Jack froze at the mention of his name. The conversation was coming from just inside the principal's office, but the bustle of students walking down the corridor drowned out the rest of the exchange. Carefully, he tiptoed toward the door, pressing himself close to the lockers so that he could hear what they were saying and maybe sneak a peek inside.

 

A tall, thin man, dressed in black, stood before the principal. A small photo remained in his hand as he extended it to Principal Patterson. Her gaze lingered on the picture before she shifted her gaze upward to meet the looming giant.

 

"If you're not a legal guardian, then I will not have this conversation with you."

 

The man in black was unperturbed. "This is a matter of national security."

 

Jack fought the urge to laugh at the man. National security his ass. Tall, mysterious looking men that could have walked straight out of one of those MIB movies Teal'c was so sweet on were not a good sign. If there were matters of national security, they wouldn't bother with him. And they wouldn't send Secret Service rejects.

 

No, Jack felt this did not bode well for him.

 

"National security?" Patterson asked. "You must be joking."

 

"No, ma'am." He slid the picture into his jacket pocket. "I'll be honest with you. Earlier this morning, we received an anonymous tip that this student, Jonathan O'Neill, has not only been plotting an act of terror on your school, but also has been working with a group of known terror suspects on the FBI watch list. We need to find him and bring him in for questioning before he can carry out anything that can endanger lives."

 

Jack blinked. There was no way he had heard that right. There was no way any of this was happening.

 

"Oh my God," he heard Patterson say. "I-I can't believe that. You must have the wrong information. He's such a good student."

 

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. We need to bring him in."

 

Jack turned and walked away from the office, easily forgetting the batch of paperwork he was supposed to give Principal Patterson. Suddenly, a bunch of test papers weren't all that important. Jack flung his backpack over his shoulder and started to head towards the exit.

 

As he made his way through the halls, he kept looking over his shoulder, glancing from side to side, just to make sure. Quietly, he withdrew his cell phone and started to dial the first number that came to mind.

 

No one there.

 

He dialed another and another.

 

No one there.

 

Of course not.

 

Jack cursed under his breath and put the cell phone away.  The exit to the school was just ahead of him, so if he could just get past the stairs he could…

 

He slowed when he saw another black suited man standing in front of the doorway. Damn.

 

Bowing his head, Jack turned to his left and set his pace to a brisk walk. He allowed himself to blend in with the other students, all the while remaining alert for any suspicious activity. Luckily, the stiff stopped by just as school was letting out.

 

Jack slipped in between two geeky freshmen and darted into the bathroom. He knew that he could have headed for the gym instead, but these guys didn't look like fools. He wasn't going to chance any kind of confrontation, especially in a situation where he was at a complete disadvantage. No, he needed to get out of here and then think of a plan.

 

Jack eyed the bathroom carefully. No one was at the urinals, but he had to check the stalls just in case. One by one he examined them, finally feeling secure in the fact he was alone. When he was sure no one had followed him, his gaze jumped between the sink and the window.

 

He could make it.

 

First, Jack tossed his bag upward so that it fell onto the windowsill. Next, he climbed onto the sink and started to stand, praying that the weight of his body wouldn't snap the fixture right out of the wall.

 

Luckily, it didn't.

 

After taking a deep breath, Jack jumped off the sink and grabbed hold of the ledge, trying to get a foothold onto the wall as he pulled his body upward. He cringed at the sound of his sneakers scraping against the drywall, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. With a final heave, he lifted himself halfway onto the ledge and poked his head out the window.

 

Being on the first floor was perfect.

 

Jack tossed his bag onto the lawn and then shoved his arms through and over the window, grabbing onto the outside of the panel for support. He squeezed through the narrow opening and stood on the outside ledge. He was up a good way, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. With one last grunt, Jack jumped out of the window and landed on the grass with a thud.

 

He wasted no time. Grabbing his bag, Jack sprinted across the lawn of the school and made a break for his car. He didn't even stop to see if anyone was behind him or if his fellow students were giving him odd looks. He was getting out of here.

 

Jack spotted his beat up sedan – it wasn't anything like his truck but he wasn't going to dwell on that now – when he noticed there was one of those men standing beside it.

 

Crap, he thought, stopping in the middle of the lawn. Whoever these guys were, they were everywhere.

 

Jack turned to his right and started walking casually, hoping not to bring any attention to himself. There had to be another alternative. There had to be some way he could buy himself some time.

 

And then, as if the Asgard had heard his pleas, Jack spotted a city bus. He wasn't going to take his chances on the school bus. Besides, he didn't want to put all those kids at risk. But he could jump on the city bus and then book it out of there. One stop, maybe two, and he could find a nice public place where he could blend into the crowd.

 

Jack went for the bus.

 

He jogged up the steps, gave the driver his money and settled into a seat. A quick check of the bus didn't reveal anyone that might pose a problem for him, but then again, who knew if these people had agents undercover.

 

What the hell? He was getting paranoid now?

 

Why shouldn't he, he tried to tell himself. There were people out there that we accusing him of terrorism and all those years in the military had honed his senses enough that he could smell a stinky plot a mile away.

 

Jack took another survey of the bus before he glanced out the window. He stiffened.

 

The guy by his car was gone.

 

Go, he silently told the bus driver. Go now, you damn slowpoke.

 

Jack watched as the doors to the bus closed, and the driver started to pull the bus from the curb. Jack sighed with relief, sinking into his seat, not even realizing he was clutching his backpack.

 

He'd gotten his wish. A short reprieve so he could consider how to proceed.

 

He jumped as he heard a knocking at the side of his window.

 

Jack looked on with amazement as the agent ran after the bus, hammering on the side while he shouted angrily at Jack. He was making frantic waves at the driver, urging him to slow or stop. For whatever reason, Jack was lucky in that the driver didn't notice or was deaf and continued to speed up as they drove away from the bus stop. The man began to vanish from view.

 

But that did nothing to ease Jack's sense of dread. When he glanced back to the rear window of the bus, he could distinctly see the shape of a sleek sedan behind them.

 

He knew enough to realize he was being followed. And he knew enough that to go to his apartment or any of his regular hangouts would be a bad idea.

 

Whoever these men were, they meant business. They were out for him and they weren't going to stop until they found him. It was only a matter of time now.

 

Jack snatched the cell phone from his bag before he slipped it over his shoulder. He flipped it open and started to dial and prepared himself to run like he'd never run before as he readied himself for the next stop.

 

"So, are the people of PJ7-261 willing to negotiate?"

 

Daniel nodded at General Landry's question and tapped his pen on his briefing report. "The Zhiang are more than willing to allow us access to some of their naquadah mines as long as we can provide some kind of assistance in the event their world falls into disarray." He took a deep breath. "They were visited by a Prior last week."

 

Landry looked irate. "So, they've managed to get into some of Yu's old territories, too."

 

"Seems like any place that the other Goa'uld haven't snatched up is fair game," Mitchell said.

 

"The people of PJ7-261 are highly intelligent people, sir. They may have been under the dominion of Yu, but the Goa'uld did allow them some limited development in the arts and education," Sam said. "While they didn't mind serving Yu, they aren't willing to allow another being or group of people to interfere with their lifestyle. They are prepared to do what it takes to defend themselves."

 

"Which could be either advantageous or to our disadvantage," Landry reminded them.

 

"Indeed. However, many within the Zhiang have strong ties with the Jaffa," Teal'c told him. "I do believe that we can convince them that allying with both the Tau'ri and the Jaffa will be to their advantage."

 

Landry nodded. "Good, let's—"

 

The five of them paused as a soft knocking interrupted the briefing. Daniel leaned back to see a nervous and slightly befuddled Walter Harriman hesitating at the door.

 

He was staring straight at him.

 

"What is it, Walter?" General Landry asked.

 

"Um, sorry for interrupting, sir, but I—" He cleared his throat and continued to stare at Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, I have your son on the line for you."

 

Daniel blinked, suddenly feeling like a kid who got his hand caught in the cookie jar. When he turned with surprise to the rest of his team, he could see that Sam was staring at him in complete shock, Teal'c looked amused, surprised, or satisfied – the last of which made him nervous – while Mitchell looked downright awestruck.

 

Landry wasn't amused at all. "Doctor Jackson?" he asked, his voice low.

 

Daniel never felt so small in all his life. This felt worse than those times he'd been at lectures or consortiums and had been booed and jeered off the stage. Descending or materializing into Jack's office in his birthday suit had been more comfortable than this.

 

He refused to look any of them in the eye. Slowly, he shifted in his seat, feeling both hot and cold, and kept his gaze centered on Walter.

 

"There must be a mistake," he told Walter.

 

"That's what I said. But he's insistent."

 

Daniel sat there, mouth open. He had no idea what to say. But apparently, Colonel Mitchell did.

 

"Dang," he said, his voice sounding like it would break. "You get around."

 

Daniel did not hold back on the glare he sent to the new leader of SG-1. Naturally, there was a reasonable explanation of all of this. "Okay, I-uh. I better go get that." He jumped to his feet and rushed out the door before he could feel any more embarrassed than he already was.

 

Walter showed Daniel to the line that his so-called son had called him on and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he asked.

 

"Two words: Cell phone."

 

Daniel frowned. "Excuse me?"

 

"You're a hard man to reach, you know that?"

 

By now, Daniel was running out of patience. He adjusted his glasses and scowled at the phone, even though he knew the boy on the line couldn't see it. Maybe it was for the benefit of the audience he'd seemed to have attracted. "Who is this?" he asked in his most irritated tone.

 

"Oh, for cryin' out loud…It's me, Daniel."

 

Daniel almost choked on the air. "Jack?"

 

"Yeah, look. Let's skip the pleasantries. I know we're not really supposed to cross paths and all, but I need your help."

 

There was fear and anger in Jack's voice. Jack didn't get spooked very easily and when he did, he got testy. "Jack, what's going on?"

 

When Daniel realized that everyone was staring at him, he mouthed "clone" which seemed to ease Sam and Teal'c right away. Mitchell still looked awestruck.

 

"I was at school and these guys dressed in suits came in demanding to take me in for questioning. They made up some bogus story that I was in league with terrorists and I was going to blow the school." Static interrupted the line before Jack's voice broke through again. "I'm still under the military watchdog from the Air Force. Even if I wanted to get into trouble, I can't. Daniel, I'm no damn terrorist."

 

Daniel couldn't even begin to believe what he was hearing. Jack was right, of course. The Air Force kept close watch on everything he did. He might be Jack but he wasn't really Jack – in most people's eyes. And terrorism? That was the most ridiculous thing Daniel had ever heard.

 

"Where are you?" he asked, signaling to Sam that this was important. She understood right away and started to whisper something to Landry.

 

"I just got off a city bus and I'm at The Citadel Mall. Daniel, they followed me here. I'm going to hang around some of the larger department stores and see if I can keep a low profile, but all they have to do is put out an alert…"

 

Daniel understood. "We're on our way. Meet us on the east side, over on Academy Boulevard. Try to stay out of sight."

 

"Roger that." He hung up the phone.

 

Daniel handed the receiver back to Walter and turned to SG-1 and General Landry. "Someone is after Jack's clone. It sounds serious." He focused solely on Landry. "Permission to—"

 

"Go," Landry said. "I want you to split up and monitor both sides of the complex." He started to move towards his office. "I don't take anything to do with the SGC lightly. Check back in as soon as you find something. I'm going to get on the phone with the Pentagon."

 

Daniel nodded, grateful for Landry's approval. He jogged to catch up with Sam, Teal'c, and Mitchell, hoping that Jack could hold off his pursuers until they arrived.

 

Jack threw the oversized sweatshirt onto the counter along with a decent baseball cap he'd found. As the cashier started to ring him out, he dug into his pockets and withdrew his wallet.

 

He knew that his "disguise" was nothing more than a quick way to hide himself. If these guys were rogue NID agents or whatever they were calling themselves these days, then his stay at The Citadel wouldn't last very long. Still, any time he could buy for himself until Daniel showed up worked for him.

 

Jack flashed the young cashier his best smile, grabbed his bag, and made his way to the exit. Once he was out of the store, he grabbed the sweatshirt out of the bag and quickly allowed it to envelop him before slapping the cap on his head. Now all he had to do was blend into the crowd and work his way over to the east entrance and wait.

 

He kept his head down, but remained alert regarding his surroundings. The mall was fairly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but that didn't give him the excuse to slack. For all he knew, some of these guys could be in street clothes.

 

He couldn't help but wonder: what the heck did they want from him? The Air Force kept him on a tight leash – all his experience and the classified information he held had to be kept under surveillance somehow. But in the end, aside from living a life he didn't want, he was just a clone. The other him had better intel to give, why not go after him?

 

Because he had all the flash and importance of working in the Air Force, Jack thought bitterly.

 

So, was Jack just an easy hit? Info up for grabs in a pint-sized package? If so, why hadn't they tried this before now?

 

Jack shook off the questions and decided to leave them for Daniel and Carter. They loved the detective bit.

 

Jack walked down the aisle and turned, catching the exit in sight. He wasn't surprised at all to see two men in black suits pacing near the entrance/exit while another one was casually standing around the telephones. He didn't think this would be easy, but this didn't bode well for him either.

 

That's when he saw her. What a sight for sore eyes. Carter had entered the building, pausing just past the doors as she searched the mall. He could tell she'd left the SGC in a hurry; her BDU's poked out from under a long black trench coat. And while Jack thought Carter had a tendency to stick out in a crowd on a good day, he was positive she was certainly going to draw more than enough attention today.

 

Dammit.

 

There was no way he and Carter were just going to be able to waltz out the front door. He'd have to try something else. Jack grabbed his phone and started ramming his fingers onto the pad.

 

Daniel released his vice grip on the steering wheel and snatched his phone. "They know," read the text message.

 

That didn't make Daniel feel any better. Why on Earth someone wanted to monitor Jack's calls was beyond him. What anyone thought they could accomplish by stalking Jack was way beyond him, too. Then again, Thor always—

 

Daniel jerked when he heard his phone ring. Sam. He pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"

 

"Are you sure he said it was the east entrance? I don't see any sign of him."

 

"Yeah…um. Change of plans," Daniel said as he watched the entrance carefully. "He's going to the west entrance."

 

"West entrance?" she asked. "Really? Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah, Mitchell and Teal'c are going to head him off over there. We're going to join them in a few minutes." He said the last few words slower and more deliberately, hoping Sam would pick up on his meaning. They'd known each other long enough that she should be able to pick up on his blatant lie and stall tactic. Daniel didn't have a clue if they were monitoring their conversation, but he wasn't going to take the chance. Besides, he figured speaking in Goa'uld would have been too obvious.

 

"All right. I'll start heading over to the west entrance. Carter out."

 

Daniel hoped she was kidding.

 

When he was certain there was no additional activity going on by the entrance, Daniel started to dial Mitchell. They needed to be on the same page for this to work.

 

"This is Mitchell."

 

"Hey, it's Daniel." He bent low and peeked out the window to get a better view of the mall. People came and went like any normal day. "Where are you?"

 

"Teal'c and I are circling one of the parking lots. This place is jammin' today. I wonder what's going on?"

 

Daniel shook his head. "Just see if you can get over to the west entrance."

 

"West entrance? I thought he was coming out down your way?" Mitchell asked.

 

"Yeah…I thought so, too," Daniel said slowly. "Look, I'm not actually sure that we aren't being monitored here, so—"

 

"I gotcha."

 

"Yeah, so just—" Daniel paused, watching as a shadow cast over himself and the driver's seat of his truck. He started to move when he heard a low voice tell him to stop.

 

"Terminate the call and put your hands where I can see them. No tricks, Doctor Jackson."

 

Daniel pursed his lips, trying to keep his anger in check. He nodded once to let the man know he'd heard him before he returned his attention to Mitchell.

 

"Jackson?"

 

"Look, uh, I'm going to have to call you back." He shut the phone and placed it on the seat. "Okay, now what?"

 

"Step out of the car and face the door."

 

Daniel sighed and raised his arms a little higher. From the corner of his eye, he caught the silhouette of an average sized man with an average build standing outside his truck with what he just knew was a gun. The man opened the door and Daniel climbed out. Immediately, he was pushed onto the side of the cab.

 

"You sure you really want to do this?" Daniel asked his assailant. "I mean, you are committing quite a few crimes in a very public space."

 

"I can easily put you back in your truck and shoot you," the man told him. "You shouldn't get involved in other people's business."

 

"And what business would that be, exactly?" Daniel asked with a smile.

 

He felt the tip of the silencer jab him in the small of his back. "Nothing that you're going to be around to remember."

 

"So, what? You're going to kill me?"

 

"You're much too valuable for me to shoot, I'm afraid." Daniel heard a shuffling and when he tilted his head he caught an…uh-oh. Needles. "But the less you know, the better for me."

 

Crap. Where was help when he needed it?

 

Sam pocketed her phone and started walking away from the east entrance. The mall was packed today; she'd learned that the Air Force Academy was holding some kind of exhibit that was drawing a rather large turnout. She noticed that the crowds were mainly tour groups or after school clubs from the various high schools in Colorado Springs. She wasn't going to blend in well at all.

 

But neither were O'Neill's trackers.

 

She caught one on her six and she knew that two more had been watching her by the entrance. There could be more scouting the area in street clothes. Whatever trouble O'Neill's clone had gotten into, it seemed to be serious.

 

Sam stopped and bent over to tie one of her boots while she kept alert of any suspicious activity. She noticed that two of the men that had been guarding the entrance had left and passed her, possibly moving to the west entrance. There was one other that she could see – the one that was keeping tabs on her.

 

O'Neill's clone would not make an appearance if he thought he was being monitored. Any cell phone activity would be in question and could be used to pinpoint him. She figured he must have moved from store to store to try to keep them off his back.

 

But he wouldn't stray too far if he truly had no intention of making a break for the west entrance.

 

Sam hovered by a boutique for a little longer, pretending to tie the other boot. When she saw a crowd of tourists, she decided to take her chance. She casually walked over to meet them and slipped between members of the crowd, knowing that her pursuer would be keeping tabs on all her actions. After a few seconds of zigzagging and annoying the tourists, she looped around, slipping into one of the stores before darting out again, and walked towards the east entrance.

 

When she glanced back, she didn't catch any sign that he was right behind her. What she did see was a teenager in a hooded sweatshirt hanging at the rear of a group of teenage kids. He was watching her every move.

 

Sam picked up her pace as she moved toward the exit and motioned with her hand at the kid. The teen picked up on the hand gesture immediately and started to head in her direction.

 

"Jack O'Neill?" she asked, trying to sneak a peek under the baseball cap he was wearing.

 

"The not so one and only," he muttered in return.

 

She forced a smile. Yup, definitely the right kid.

 

Sam snagged his arm and drew him closer, making sure he remained right by her side as they braced themselves for the main exit on the east side. So far, she didn't catch any of the suits waiting for them by the doors, but that didn't mean anything. There could be several of them waiting outside or waiting here in the mall undetected.

 

"What did you do that would cause all of this?" she asked him. It seemed incredible that O'Neill's clone could be this much of a problem.

 

"Jaywalking?"

 

She glared at him.

 

O'Neill's clone sighed. "Believe me, Carter, I would love to know myself. But I'm guessing the simple act of breathing might be enough of an offense for these guys."

 

She hated to think that he was probably right. "Daniel has his truck parked right out front. As soon as we're close enough, make a break for it and get inside."

 

"Where are we going? The SGC?" His voice sounded a little too hopeful.

 

Sam paused, looked to her right and left before she nudged him forward through the doors. "Yes," she answered simply. They picked up the pace as they left the mall and headed toward some of the cars parked in front. She felt a shiver up her spine as the familiar feeling of being followed crept over her.

 

"They're on our six," O'Neill's clone muttered, stealing a quick glance over his shoulder.

 

"I know. We're almost there." She could see Daniel's truck from here.

 

She frowned, noting that there seemed to be a few people standing outside the truck, one of which looked liked Daniel. She couldn't make out the rest from where they were.

 

Oh boy, she thought. This wasn't good.

 

She knew the clone beside her was thinking the same thing. They broke into a run toward the truck.

 

"I'm sorry, Doctor Jackson. But you really shouldn't have gotten involved."

 

Daniel felt the pressure of the gun start to dissipate, but that allowed for the man to grab his wrists and bring them behind his back. Daniel stalled by struggling and fidgeting, but his strength had never been in hand-to-hand combat. With a twist here and there, Daniel's hands were bound. He sighed. Why always him?

 

He considered ramming his shoulder back into the man, but he wasn't sure how far that would take him. As it was, Daniel could only see vague glimpses of what the man was doing over there. Daniel wasn't keen on ramming into the gun or a needle.

 

"Just stay calm and you won't get hurt."

 

"Stay calm?" Daniel managed to tilt his head a little more. "You're threatening to jab me with needles."

 

"It'll put you out of commission for a while, but it's nothing serious."

 

Somehow, Daniel didn't really believe him.

 

"You know how to handle that, right?" Daniel asked. "Because if I am as valuable as you say, then you wouldn't want to screw up. Your boss – what the Trust? Business conglomerates?

 

"Nice try, Doctor Jackson. Now, just hold still."

 

"No, wait! Let's-let's talk about this. Maybe we can —"

 

Daniel winced, feeling a sudden sharp jab to his back before he heard a soft thud behind him. After pausing for a beat, Daniel turned his head, surprised to find his assailant out cold on the pavement.

 

Daniel shot his head up to the man standing beside him.

 

"It appears you are in need of my assistance," Teal'c said with a smile.

 

"Teal'c." Daniel couldn't even voice his relief. "You have great timing."  Or, at least Daniel hoped so. He squirmed, dangling his fingers to try to reach where he'd felt the pain. "Teal'c, do you see —?"

 

Teal'c ripped through the plastic cuffs. "You appear to be fine."

 

Daniel nodded, rubbing his wrists as he gazed down at the man. He didn't look so ominous lying there unconscious on the ground. But there was no mistaking the fact he had a weapon concealed somewhere under his jacket and no one could miss the kit full of vials and needles that had fallen beside him.

 

That had been too close for Daniel's liking. He frowned as he rubbed his back thoughtfully.

 

"Daniel!"

 

Daniel turned to see Sam and some kid running towards them. Sam quickly opened one of the doors to the truck and shoved the teenager – presumably Jack – inside. She then darted around the truck and came to meet them.

 

One glance at the man and his paraphernalia on the ground told Sam enough.

 

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

 

She immediately tore Daniel's hands away from his back and lifted his shirt and jacket to check him. He stiffened as he felt the cold tips of her fingers touch his skin.

 

"Sam, I'm all right. I think his elbow hit my back right before Teal'c took him out."

 

"I don't see any puncture or breakage," she said with a nod. She motioned with the nudge of her chin to the man on the ground. "I want to bring him in for questioning and get those vials sent to a lab for analysis."

 

"I will keep him under guard," Teal'c said.

 

Sam nodded. "Good. You and Mitchell head back to the SGC and secure him. We'll be right behind you."

 

Jack's head poked out of the window. "What happened?"

 

"Looks like we got ourselves a prisoner," Daniel said.

 

"Nice." He looked down at the man before he gazed over at Teal'c. "Good job."

 

Teal'c dipped his head. "Thank you, O'Neill."

 

"We'd better get moving," Sam said. "There are more of them inside the mall and I would guess scouting this entire area."

 

"Won't argue with that." Daniel rubbed his back again as he glared at his attacker. "How did you know?" he asked Teal'c.

 

"Colonel Mitchell became quite concerned when you refused to speak with him. We then proceeded to your position to see if you were in any danger."

 

Daniel nodded, still relieved that Teal'c had intervened in time, though he wasn't sure whether to take Mitchell's statement as a compliment or an insult. Daniel didn't talk that much, did he?

 

"Who's Mitchell?" Jack asked.

 

No one bothered to answer him.  Daniel slipped back into the driver's seat while Sam swung around to the passenger side. Teal'c quickly bound the unconscious man and started to drag him away from Daniel's truck. Jack hovered between Sam and Daniel.

 

"Hey, I asked you a question."

 

"Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell," Sam answered, locking the door and peering outside past the mall.

 

There was a honking and Daniel poked his head outside the window. Mitchell waved to him.

 

Daniel sighed. "Does he know the meaning of the word 'covert?'"

 

Sam chuckled and glanced over to Jack. "He's a member of SG-1. In fact, he's one of the pilots you helped train to fly the F-302's." She smiled at him. "He's nice."

 

"He's a bit excitable," Daniel added. "But his heart's in the right place."

 

"Ah," Jack said, leaning back. Daniel didn't think he was all too impressed. Not because Jack had a dislike for Mitchell, but just because this was Jack. Daniel knew exactly where this conversation was heading. "You should have recruited me," he told them. "I've got all the skills, great new body…and I'm the sharpest I've ever been."

 

"And you're oh…what?" Daniel asked. "Seventeen?"

 

"Hey, I might look seventeen, but I've got the mind of a seasoned general." Both Sam and Daniel turned to stare at him. "What?" he asked. "I called me to tell me."

 

"As much as I would love to hear you try to bargain with your skills, I think we should get moving," Sam said. "Daniel?"

 

He had already started up the truck and had been waiting for Mitchell to pull out from behind him. When he saw that he was clear, Daniel pulled away and started for the street. Luckily, the SGC was not all that far from The Citadell Mall. He figured they should be able to make it back without further incident.

 

But when Daniel glanced in his rear view mirror, he knew that getting out of here scott free was more of a dream than a reality. "Sam?" he asked.

 

"I see them." She kept checking her side mirror. "See if you can lose them."

 

"They're insane if they think they can follow us all the way to the SGC," Jack said. He paused. "Wait, lose them?"

 

Daniel hit the gas and gunned it away from the mall, taking a sharp left onto the next street. Though he was careful for any pedestrians or animals in the area, he wasn't afraid to weave in and out of stopped traffic and hit the curb if needed.

 

"Whoa!" Jack yelled, grabbing onto the seat. "Let me drive! I had a truck just like this once. I can handle…wait, this is my truck."

 

Sam was unperturbed by the whole thing. Maybe even a little amused. "Daniel bought it off General O'Neill when he moved to Washington D.C."

 

Daniel maneuvered again, nearly nicking a mailbox in the process. "I got a good deal on it."

 

Daniel saw Jack wince at the near miss and clutch the seat harder. "The bastard couldn't have even given it to me?" Jack cursed something unintelligible under his breath. "Have you even seen the piece of junk I've been driving?"

 

"Always one to screw yourself, huh, Jack?"

 

"Ha. That's funny. You're a regular comedian, Daniel."

 

Daniel had to smile despite himself. Though, after spending so much time with Jack O'Neill, what did Jack expect?

 

Daniel took a sharp left and then swerved to the right, decided to go down a side street than to stay on the main roads. Here, he found he could pick up a little speed. Daniel pressed his foot on the gas and barreled down the street, keeping his eyes on the road while Sam kept checking their rear.

 

"They're still with us," she said.

 

Daniel took another sharp left, the tires squealing in the process. He licked his lips as he focused before wiping his brow with the back of his hand. They passed by some homes, a few small businesses, and a fairly nice neighborhood. He made sure to slow when he saw some kids playing by the side of the street. Once he passed them, he hit the gas and took a right and then a left.

 

"Daniel, I swear if you get one scratch on my truck…"

 

"My truck."

 

Daniel was back on one of the main roads, preparing to head for the SGC.  He heard Sam's cell phone and he figured it had to be Landry checking on them. He wasn't entirely sure they should be talking to anyone until they were back at the SGC but based on Sam's expression, it seemed pretty important. She plugged her ear with her finger and turned away – essentially blocking out both he and Jack – so that she could hear the conversation.

 

Daniel just tuned it all out and kept driving. He inhaled sharply as he sped up and went through a red light. He knew he'd hear about it. Jack was the worst backseat driver imaginable, when he wanted to be.

 

Daniel just ignored him.

 

By now, it didn't matter if they were being followed or not. They were close enough to the SGC that soon the sedan would have no choice but to stop or be taken by the military. Daniel wasn't really sure why they bothered at this point.

 

"Cassie, wait. Slow down. I didn't hear you."

 

Daniel stiffened over the mention of Cassie and wondered what the problem could be. Cassie rarely called them now that she was at college. Though, he thought he remembered Sam telling them something about Cassie coming home for spring break.

 

"Something wrong?" Daniel asked.

 

Sam held up a finger and pressed the phone closer to her ear. Daniel took the opportunity to take a right, a left, and a right before he finally realized no one was following them anymore.  He breathed a sigh of relief.

 

"Are you sure?" Sam said into the phone. "Cassie, don't move. Stay there and stay with people. Don't put yourself in any kind of situation where you're alone."

 

Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't like the way this conversation was heading, and though the Jack with them hadn't seen Cassandra in two years, he still had the memories of her and their time together. This was hurting Jack as much as it was hurting him.

 

"Problem?" Jack asked.

 

"Two men are following Cassandra downtown at the local bookstore and café. They match the same type of description as the men we encountered today." Sam looked absolutely devastated. "She was going to shop downtown until I got out of work today."

 

"How far?" Daniel asked. He knew it didn't matter anyway.

 

"She's not far from the center of town. A few streets back from where we came."

 

Daniel nodded and started to turn the truck around. "Here we go again."

 

Daniel brought the truck to a screeching halt. It wasn't exactly the slow approach Sam had in mind, but right now her thoughts were focused on other things.

 

Sam leaned over the seat, far enough so that Daniel had to push back to give her room. While part of her wanted to run in and grab Cassie so they could leave as quickly as possible, another part of her was concerned for Daniel and Jack O'Neill's clone. She didn't want a repeat of what happened at the mall.

 

"Go, Carter," O'Neill's clone said. He squeezed between her and Daniel before he fumbled below the seat. "We'll hold the fort."

 

"There's no gun there," Daniel warned him. "Jack removed his hidden weapons cache from the truck before he sold it to me."

 

"Dammit."

 

"Go." Daniel urged her with the wave of his hand. "We'll be fine. Just make sure Cassie's okay."

 

Sam nodded, giving the both of them one last anxious look before she jumped out of the Ford truck and walked into the bookstore.

 

It was a slow day from what Sam could see. The café at the front of the store had some patrons buying coffee, but the actual bookstore itself looked empty. Nonetheless, appearances could be deceiving. For whatever reason, these agents were taking a more subtle approach with Cassie instead of the more aggressive one with O'Neill. Sam figured the aisles themselves were crawling with agents, just waiting for Cassie to leave.

 

Sam started down one of the aisles in the bookstore, checking the shelves one by one, trying to discern if she were being watched or if anyone was hiding around the corner. She caught a few of bookish-looking college students, a couple of parents with their small children, and some bored looking teenagers.

 

No Cassie.

 

Sam repeated the movements with every aisle she searched, making sure to keep alert and watchful for anything that seemed suspicious. What made matters worse was that she knew the store owners were watching her – a trench coat and BDU's didn't make for the most endearing fashion statement.

 

Sam went down another aisle. Another. And another.

 

Still no Cassie.

 

Sam started to feel uneasy, concerned not only for Cassie's welfare, but also over the silent promise she made to herself and to her friend. She'd promised in Janet's memory that she would take care of Cassie at all costs. She couldn't fail Cassie and Janet now. Not ever.

 

Frustrated, Sam started to retrace her steps. She was certain that the man two aisles from her was one of them; not only had he kept lowering his book to spy on her, but he kept looking over his shoulder as if he were expecting someone to challenge him from behind. And if he was here, then more of them had to be hanging around, too.

 

Sam started down the last aisle again when she thought she saw something. Stopping, Sam stared back into the café, watching as a nervous young woman bought a large cappuccino. Cassie oscillated shifting her weight from one leg to the next as she kept stealing anxious glances over her shoulder.

 

Sam marched straight to the café counter.

 

"Cassie," she said, allowing the relief to fill her voice. She hugged her and kept her close.

 

"Oh, Sam, you came." Cassie hugged her quickly but her anxious twitches didn't stop. "They're right behind you," she whispered. "At the far table."

 

Sam didn't look back. "Daniel is waiting just outside. We're going to walk out of here, go straight to the truck, and go the SGC."

 

Cassie nodded as she clutched her cup. "Cool."

 

Sam rubbed her back and guided her away from the counter as she offered the cashier the best smile she could afford. The two of them quickly but carefully walked to the exit, feeling more than one pair of eyes on them as they left. As soon as they were outside, they rushed to the truck.

 

Cassie climbed in first slipping into the back to sit beside O'Neill.  Sam hurried into the passenger's seat before nodding for Daniel to go. Daniel shifted the truck into drive and they sped away from the bookstore. Sam noticed that he checked the rearview mirror a couple of times before he slowed his erratic driving.

 

She didn't see anyone following them this time.

 

"Are you okay?" Daniel finally asked.

 

"Yeah." Cassie looked over to O'Neill's clone. "Who are you?"

 

Sam caught him roll his eyes which naturally elicited a shocked response from Cassie.

 

"Oh my God! You're Jack's clone!"

 

"That would be me," he said bitterly.

 

"I don't see anyone trailing us anymore," Daniel mentioned, interrupting the exchange. "You think they'd just give up like that?"

 

"We don't even know what they wanted in the first place." Sam considered calling Landry to tell him they were on their way, but she thought better of it. "What I don't understand is why someone would be after Cassie or —"

 

"The clone," O'Neill's younger double muttered.

 

Sam forced a smile but nodded. "What kind of information or leverage could they possibly get from either of you?"

 

"High school. College. It's a conspiracy I tell you."

 

Sam ignored the clone's remarks and tried to map out some kind of connection. O'Neill's clone and Janet's alien daughter. Did it have something to do with alien technology?  Was it something deeper or something more obvious?

 

She shook her head and gazed out the window, watching the city streak by in a blur of color.  Sam sighed. She just wasn't seeing it.

 

"Well, it has to be more than just a coincidence that both Jack and Cassie were followed by people today," Daniel said. He took another turn and they broke onto the main road that headed toward Cheyenne Mountain. "The question is why."

 

Sam nodded and for a moment felt like she was channeling the Jack O'Neill of old. "That really is the million dollar question, isn't it?"

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Hank Landry shook his head as he hung up the phone. He'd been trying for the past hour to get through to someone at the Pentagon but he'd been stonewalled every shot. He'd even tried Jack, but attempting to reach the man was near impossible at times. He'd settled with leaving a message for both Jack and Major Davis and would call back again once the briefing was over.

 

He pressed the local intercom. "Keep me informed of any changes," he told Walter.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Hank walked into the briefing room, pleased to see SG-1 was ready and waiting for him. This was their second briefing in less than three hours. He could tell that they weren't too enthused about it.

 

Hank couldn't say he was, either.

 

He glanced over at Doctor Jackson and Teal'c who were seated to his right and Colonels Mitchell and Carter who were seated to his left. He eased himself into the seat at the end of the table and clasped his hands. "So, what can you tell me?"

 

"Both Jack and Cassandra are fine," Jackson said. "They've been set up in VIP rooms for the time being."

 

"And? Do we have any leads on what the hell caused all this?"

 

"As you're aware, sir, Colonel Mitchell and Teal'c brought in one of the men for questioning," Carter said. "There was no form of ID on him, so we're trying to run a background check based on the materials that we discovered with him. The lab is also working to identify what substance is contained in the vials we brought back with us."

 

Hank wasn't very comfortable with the idea that someone out there was willing to drug his people. And by the sound of things, these men had a connection to some kind of government or corporate agency. Heaven help them if they had some kind of relationship with the Trust.

 

"Did you get any sense of what kind of people we're dealing with based on your confrontation with the man we have in custody?" he asked Jackson.

 

"He wasn't going to tell me." Jackson paused. "You're thinking it might be the Trust."

 

"From what I understand, we're not entirely sure if all of them were ever found."

 

Carter nodded thoughtfully. "It's a possibility that we've considered. We know that the Trust were infiltrated by the Goa'uld and have connections across several government agencies and affiliates. We've never been able to confirm just how many people were involved with the Trust or how many could have been taken as hosts."

 

"Not to mention, Ba'al acting as the de facto leader of the Trust," Jackson added. "For all we know, the real Ba'al could still be here on Earth."

 

"Yet, it is also possible that Ba'al could remain on another world," Teal'c said.

 

"Which doesn't help us," Mitchell mumbled as he leaned back in his chair. "So, basically, these Ba'als are just going to keep on a coming like cockroaches. You kill one, and you've got five more that take the sucker's place."

 

Hank sighed. What Colonel Mitchell was saying was all too true. He was aware of the connections the Goa'uld had to Farrow-Marshall, Procyon Media Enterprises, Hammel Technologies and so on and so forth. He knew the Goa'uld had gotten as far as penetrating the Russian government. Thankfully, that problem had been taken care of through Colonel Chekov and Russian President Mikailhov. He didn't even like to dwell on what had happened to Kinsey. At least Kerry Johnson within the CIA had been working for months on coordinating between agencies trying to root out any bad apples that might be spoiling the bunch. But even her efforts might not be enough.

 

"Let's just say these men are connected to the Trust in some way," he started. "Why would they want a clone and a girl from another planet?"

 

"Ba'al and Jack have some pretty heavy history," Jackson said. "If we are working under the assumption that Ba'al is running what is left from the Trust, maybe he's looking to seek some revenge through the clone."

 

"I don't think so, Daniel," Carter said. "If Ba'al found out that General O'Neill had been cloned, why wouldn't he have moved before now? Plus, that has nothing to do with Cassandra."

 

"Perhaps the opportunity had not yet presented itself," Teal'c said.

 

Carter shook her head. "No, I just don't think that is what is going on here."

 

"Do you have a theory?" Mitchell asked.

 

Hank leaned forward and waited expectantly. Colonel Carter's contributions were well known throughout the SGC; Hank had witnessed it himself. He was confident that even if she couldn't tell him outright what was going on, she could help shed some light on viable possibilities.

 

"Well, I can't say for sure, but it could be as simple as a matter of intel," she said. "Both General O'Neill's clone and Cassandra have important links to the program and to us. It's possible that Ba'al or the Trust are looking to get information that they can use now that they've been seriously undermined."

 

"It seems rather elaborate when they have connections to the NID," Jackson said. "Wouldn't it just be easier to use the connections they already have?"

 

"Not with the CIA monitoring them," she countered.

 

Jackson nodded and looked down at the paperwork in front of him. Hank took the move as his concession in the matter. The remaining members of SG-1 remained quiet, their gazes focused at the head of the table. Hank didn't answer their silent questions; he took a moment to pause and consider their options. They didn't have much information at the moment, but he had enough experience to know that this was something they couldn't just sit on. They'd proceed ahead and when more intel came, hopefully from their prisoner, then they could reevaluate their position.

 

Hank sat a little straighter in his seat. "Okay, first we'll —"

 

He stopped upon hearing a quick rapping at the door. Chief Sergeant Walter Harriman was standing just outside the briefing room. Hank hoped he wasn't interrupting with news of another "son" of Doctor Jackson.

 

"Chief," he said.

 

"Sir, I just got word from General O'Neill's office. The secretary informed me that he's in a very important meeting right now, but she'll have him call you when he's available." Both Walter and Hank paused when they heard some snickering from SG-1. The laughter quickly subsided as Hank urged Walter to continue. "I also have the preliminary reports from the lab on the man that SG-1 brought in."

 

"Good," Hank urged him to step forward by beckoning him with his hand. He took the report from Walter and flipped it open. "Keep me apprised of anything new."

 

"Yes, sir," he said before scurrying out of the briefing room.

 

Hank took the opportunity to skim the report while SG-1 waited for him to address them. He took his time, making sure he didn't miss something important. He was glad he did. Frowning, he tapped his finger on a section of the report before sliding it over to Colonel Mitchell. He motioned with his hand for him to give it to Colonel Carter.

 

She accepted the report and started to read through it. She frowned. He was certain he saw some of the color drain from her face.

 

"He's not a Goa'uld," Hank said. "But at this point, I'm far more concerned about what's in those vials."

 

Jackson shot a worried look over to Carter. "What's in the vials?"

 

Carter pushed the file away from her, almost as if the distance she was creating would protect her somehow. "Preliminary reports show the presence of the organisms that comprise nishta."

 

Mitchell and Teal'c turned to Carter in surprise. Jackson's face fell. "You can't be serious."

 

"She's right," Hank said gravely. He kept his gaze focused on Colonel Carter. "What I'd like to know is how and why these people got their hands on this stuff."

 

Carter remained silent.

 

"Sam?" Mitchell asked.

 

"When I was heading up R&D over at Area 51, I was consulted by some researchers working on creating various forms of biological and chemical warfare to use against the remaining Goa'uld or any other enemies. As a last resort," she added quickly. "They were being developed in order to subdue enemies without mass murder or unnecessary casualties."

 

"So, basically brainwash your enemy." Daniel tore off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There was no attempt on his part to hide the scowl that had formed on his face. "Sam, if this is used against…"

 

"I know, Daniel. I know it's dangerous." She shifted uncomfortably. "But the benefits far outweigh any risks. We were hoping to eventually develop this to help mental patients or those afflicted with personality disorders."

 

"And you really believe that?" Jackson asked, his voice low.

 

Carter looked affronted. "Of course. It wasn't being developed to act in the way the Goa'uld used the organism. Our scientists have been working to adapt the organism into a tamer, safer form in conjunction with some of our known compounds. It isn't fully organic or inorganic. In fact, the patient —"

 

"Or victim," Teal'c said coolly.

"The patient," Carter said, continuing, "would never become fully pliant. We know that nishta inflects the tissues of its host, which then makes the host open to suggestion. We also know there are different kinds of nishta, some of which are stronger than others. As I've just mentioned, our scientists were working on a mild variant of the organism, mainly established on immunities in General O'Neill, Daniel, Teal'c, and myself based on our encounters with Hathor, Seth, and Apophis."

 

"They used us?" Jackson stared at her, his mouth open.

 

"Old tissue samples taken after our various encounters." Carter leaned forward, her gaze bordering on pleading. "Daniel, I didn't know about this until I started working at Area 51. They must have held onto the samples until our technology reached a point where they could use them."

 

Hank tried to remain patient, but patience had never been his strongest suit. "You said immunity."

 

"So, none of you all could become infected again?" Mitchell asked.

 

Hank noted Carter wince. "Not exactly. By changing the properties of the organisms, the scientists essentially created a new form of nishta."

 

Jackson groaned and he leaned back in his chair, his frustrated gaze now on the ceiling. Teal'c seemed to mirror his sentiment in a more controlled and cool manner.

 

"Colonel Carter, if this substance is discovered by dishonorable individuals, it could be used against the Jaffa or those in this very establishment," Teal'c said.

 

"I know and believe me, the scientists I consulted were aware of that possibility. Certain fail safes were put into place." She paused. "Used in a medical setting, this drug could help psychiatrists in hypnosis therapy or help people with various problems and illnesses. A simple suggestion could help them overcome some barrier they couldn't tackle on their own."

 

"Only problem is that I doubt the MIB in the other room wanted to help Jackson get over a caffeine addiction," Mitchell said.

 

Hank caught Jackson glare at Mitchell and he feared this briefing would soon get out of hand. This was not the time and place for them to debate the merits of an engineered drug. "The fact of the matter is this potentially dangerous drug is in the hands of people that could be in league with the Trust."

 

Carter nodded. "I know, sir."

 

"Somehow, this drug has switched hands from Area 51 to the Trust or some other group, and that's just not acceptable." Hank hated the complications this new development brought to the table. "These men were after Cassandra Fraiser and Jack O'Neill's clone for a reason."

 

"You're thinking they were going to use the drug on Jack and Cassie?" Jackson asked. His face paled. He understood.

 

"I don't know what they were planning, but I don't like the connection," Hank said. "If Ba'al had a hand in these attempted kidnappings, if that is even what they were, then we could be looking at possible spies and or plants in the form of people that you know."

 

Teal'c's eyes widened. "As has happened with the Jaffa High Council."

 

"Oh my God," Carter said, following his reasoning. "It could start with someone like General O'Neill's clone or Cassandra, and then they could be used to get to the rest of us. We could be looking at a foothold situation."

 

"Jackson's brush with our prisoner here might not have been just an accident," Mitchell muttered. "Isn't that just dandy."

 

Silence settled over the table as they all thought about the grim reality of their current situation. Hank knew one thing for sure. He wasn't just going to sit by and allow the SGC to go to hell in a hand basket.

 

"No one is going to compromise the SGC," Hank said, allowing the anger to flow through his voice. "Colonel Carter, I want you to get over to Area 51 and find me some answers. I want to know who's been involved in the nishta project and who's had access to its stores. I'll contact Agent Barrett and have him meet you there. You'll be coordinating with the NID on this one."

 

Carter nodded before she stood. "Yes, sir," she said as she made her way to the exit.

 

Hank turned to Teal'c. "I believe you have a meeting this afternoon?"

 

"Indeed. I am scheduled to meet with the High Council to discuss matters of Jaffa security." He clasped his hands behind his back and stood a little straighter, though Hank caught some conflict in his off-centered gaze. "If you require my assistance, I can remain."

 

"That won't be necessary, Teal'c. We need to make sure we maintain strong relations with the Jaffa Nation. Report back in when you're finished."

 

"That I will." He inclined his head in a slight bow before he ventured toward the exit. Mitchell and Jackson exchanged a furtive look as they waited orders.

 

"Doctor Jackson, why don't you talk to Jack's young clone and Cassandra Fraiser. I'm sure they would like some reassurances and I feel they'd be comfortable talking to you." Hank paused and tapped the table as he thought. He didn't want them to be interrogated but they really needed any relevant information that could shed light on what was happening. He settled for something simple. "See what you can find."

 

"Right." With that, he was gone.

 

That left Hank and Mitchell.

 

"I assume you're going to send me on some exciting fandangled mission," Mitchell said with a smile as he clapped his hands.

 

Hank chuckled. "If you could only be so lucky." He allowed the mirth to leave his voice and got down to business. "Colonel Carter, Doctor Jackson, and Teal'c all have strong emotion connections and investments in Cassandra Fraiser and the young Jack O'Neill."

 

"You need an objective eye on this case."

 

"You got it." Hank hated to make it seem like he was going behind their backs, but he needed someone with a little distance and perspective to look into any activity Cassandra or Jack's clone had been conducting over the past few months. For all they knew, Cassandra and the clone had already been compromised and this was just an elaborate set up to get to SG-1. Hank couldn't let personal relationships get in the way. Not with something this serious. "Be thorough."

 

Mitchell's smile faded and he nodded. "Yes, sir."

 

"And do some preliminary checks on the base personnel here in the SGC," Hank said as he started for his office. Mitchell stood as he walked away. "Anything suspicious –anything at all – I want brought to my attention. One can't be too careful."

 

"Don't you worry about it, General. After reading all those files for potential members of SG-1, I have a good idea where to start."

 

"Good. Keep me apprised of anything you find." Hank entered his office and quickly checked for any word from Jack or the Pentagon.

 

Nothing.

 

Setting his jaw, Hank started to dial the guards in the holding area. He wanted some answers. And he wanted them now.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Teal'c sat at the Council, vaguely aware of the proceedings around him. In truth, his heart was not with the Jaffa. He could not help but feel concern for Cassandra Fraiser and the young clone of O'Neill. If their pursuers were indeed in league with Ba'al, then they could very well still be in danger.

 

It was not only the fate of Cassandra Fraiser and the clone of O'Neill that concerned him. He was uncertain of the fate of Daniel Jackson, Colonel Carter, and Colonel Mitchell. They could be placing themselves at great risk in their investigations. The threat of nishta should not be taken lightly.

 

"Teal'c." He heard his name whispered close to his ear. Turning his head to the side, he noticed Bra'tac eyeing him with disapproval. "Your body is here but your mind is not."

 

"You must be mistaken. My mind and my heart remain here with the Council."

 

"Do not lie to me, Teal'c," Bra'tac said in a low but gruff voice. He was certain Bra'tac would ask him about his troubles at that moment, but he did not. "We will speak of this once the session has ended."

 

The proceedings were long. Teal'c did his best to focus upon the words of such speakers as Ka'lel and Shak'nor, but concentration proved to be difficult. He could not help but think of his friends and his longing to be with them.

 

Angry, he grabbed onto the edge of the table and squeezed until he felt the pain splinter through his fingers. He should not feel such strong attachments to the Tau'ri. He had fought so long for the freedom of the Jaffa. By right, the Council and the building of the Jaffa as a people should be his main concern. He understood his battles against the Ori would mean for him to remain with the Tau'ri for some time longer than he had expected. Only, it had been much to his surprise when he had felt a wave of relief once the decision had been brought before him.

 

He had not wanted to admit to himself how much at home he felt among his Earth brethren. And now, as he sat among his people, he could not seem to break his thoughts away from those that he had left behind.

 

The High Council adjourned, allowing the members to take their leave. Teal'c and Bra'tac walked away from the main chambers, journeying down the halls until they were far from the main body.

 

"Now," Bra'tac said firmly. "Tell me what is troubling you that it would take your mind from matters of our security."

 

Teal'c glanced over his shoulder. When he was certain that they were alone, he spoke. "This morning there was an incident on Earth involving a substance that could very well be nishta."

 

Bra'tac's expression changed from one of stone to one of astonishment. "And of this you are certain?"

 

"Indeed. The Tau'ri are investigating the matter as we speak."

 

Bra'tac looked away, lost in thought, before his face hardened and he grabbed Teal'c by the shoulder. "The Council cannot know of this, Teal'c. If they discover the Tau'ri have acquired such weapons – weapons not unlike those Ba'al himself only just recently has used in this very circle – the consequences would be catastrophic."

 

Teal'c gave a small nod. This he knew. Since the plot by Ba'al had been revealed to the High Council, the members had become paranoid and withdrawn. Many spoke of further laws to create a more independent Jaffa state, while others spoke of complete isolation from their allies of the Tau'ri. And while Teal'c agreed that the Jaffa need not become dependent on their allies, he did not feel such extreme measures would be in their best interest. Daniel Jackson had instructed him in the various histories of the Tau'ri. Teal'c was aware of what dangers could befall the Jaffa if they continued down this path.

 

"It had been my hope that the difficulties that we have faced as a people would unite us as one. Yet, it has only served to break us apart," Teal'c said softly.

 

After Gerak's passing, matters had only become worse. Ba'al's infiltration into the minds of the High Council had broadened the divide left in Gerak's wake. What could they do to remain as one?

 

"Take heart, Teal'c," Bra'tac said as he squeezed his shoulder. "Our battle is long, but our hearts are strong. Give it time."

 

Teal'c brought his gaze past his mentor to watch his fellow Jaffa as they weaved in and out of the hallways. He could hear the whisperings that were just past his grasp and see the tired faces of those that had worked hard for their cause. The High Council was growing weary and impatient. He did not know how long they could last.

 

He set his jaw and turned to Bra'tac, remembering one of the many phrases used by the Tau'ri. "I do not believe time is on our side."

 

Hank shut the door behind him, not bothering to put on his best face as he stared at the man seated and handcuffed in front of him. "Joseph Owens," he said, tossing the file on the table. "You were once employed by the NID, but your current position is classified."

 

The man's gaze flickered across the file before sliding up to meet Hank's humorless expression. The corners of his mouth threatened to upturn into a self-satisfied smile. It was then Hank knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this man.

 

That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. "Who is your current employer?"

 

Owens didn't reply. He leaned back and cocked his head, watching Hank with a sly, smug look on his face. Hank had no patience for it.

 

"I can make your life a living hell if you don't give me the answers I need."

 

"I doubt that you will," Owens said with a smile. "You see, I'm well protected."

 

"By whom?"

 

"Do you really think I'm going to tell you anything?" He scoffed at Hank and shook his head. "What I am doing is none of your concern."

 

"Everything you are doing is my concern," he said. "You attacked one of my people and you were involved in a plot to kidnap innocent civilians."

 

"Not so innocent as far as I know."

 

Hank slammed his hands down on the table and glared at his prisoner. He was not going to deal with this crap. "I can lock you up in one of our darkest cells and you will never see the light of day again if you choose not to cooperate."

 

Owens chuckled. "In a few hours, I'll be out of here. So, you can try to interrogate me all you like. This goes beyond you or me."

 

"And what would that be?"

 

Owens flashed his best grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

 

Hank sighed with frustration and pushed away from the table. He already knew that for Owens' files to be classified meant he had to have connections to top-secret military or government offices. But his arrogant cocksure attitude made Hank uneasy. If Owens knew the right people who could pull some strings in his favor, this nishta plot could reach deeper than he'd originally thought.

 

He narrowed his eyes. "I am not playing games, Owens. You assaulted one of my people and I'm going to get answers from you if it's the last thing I do."

 

"And it may be."

 

Hank was about to describe all the things he was authorized to do and some that he wasn't when he heard a soft knocking at the door. He walked away from the table, sending Owens another meaningful glare before he opened the door.

 

It was Walter.

 

"Chief," he said quietly.

 

"Sir, I have General O'Neill on the line for you."

 

It was about time. Hank nodded to Walter before he turned to face Owens. "We're not through."

 

Owens shrugged. "I believe that we are."

 

"You aren't going anywhere." Hank swung the door open and slammed it, motioning to the guards to keep the exit secure. He marched after Walter and headed toward the elevator hoping maybe Jack and the Pentagon could shed some light on what the hell was going on.

 

Cameron tossed yet another file onto the stack he'd already sorted through. He'd gone through most of the personnel files for anyone that might have a connection to SG-1 – even some of those who didn't – and he couldn't find anything that would give him one iota of information.

 

Everyone looked clean as far as he could see.

 

"So far, there ain't nothing helpful," he said aloud.

 

But he still had a few files left. Damn, he was not looking forward to those. He'd been avoiding them since he'd started this dull but necessary assignment. Frustrated, he rubbed at his head and stood, deciding to take a little stroll around his office.

 

And damn, was it a nice office. When General Landry had set him up in here, Cameron had thought he'd struck the lottery. The office was spacious, though not super large, and it looked brand spanking new. Cameron had thought that maybe the SGC had gone all out for little ol'him and whipped up something new and special.

 

Then, he'd found out it was General O'Neill's old office, back in the days when he was a colonel. O'Neill had never really utilized his office. Word of mouth said he was always hanging out in Jackson's office or Carter's lab. Hell, he could even be found writing up his reports in the commissary next to cake and pie and everything nice.

 

Cameron was thinking maybe that wasn't such a bad idea right about now.

 

Sighing, he lumbered back to his desk and threw himself into the chair. He tapped at some of the keys of his keyboard, finally calling up files on Cassandra Fraiser and little CLO'Neill.

 

He couldn't see anything unusual about those two, unless you counted that one was an alien and one was a clone. There was nothing normal about anything involving SG-1. But as he scrolled through the database, nothing really leapt out at him. Fraiser was going to college out in California and the clone was going to high school down here in Colorado Springs. Both seemed to be doing well and no brushes with the law. No nothing.

 

Well, there was the more than occasional incident with the clone and underaged drinking, but really Cameron couldn't blame him for that one.

 

He'd read that the Fraiser kid had been part of Nirrti's experiments. Could Ba'al or whatever Goa'uld be interested in her for that reason? O'Neill's clone had that funky genetic marker, same as the full-grown version. Maybe that was the key.

 

Or maybe, he thought dully, both the girl and the clone had been compromised long ago and only now were showing their hands. The nishta project could just be the cover they were looking for.

 

Cameron frowned, not liking that idea one bit. He had next to no experience with the Asgard, and even the Goa'uld were new to him, but it didn't stop him from connecting the dots. Something could have snapped in Fraiser a long time ago and SG-1 would have never been the wiser. And who's to say anyone really knew the clone's true purpose. He was created by a renegade Asgard. They'd been working on a whole hell of a lot of assumptions.

 

Then again, he could easily reason the same kind of batty conspiracy theories to himself or anyone at the SGC. Cameron couldn't just go around making baseless accusations without any proof.

 

Besides, Cameron had the utmost respect for his fellow teammates. He was just trying to do his job here.

 

But this whole super secret underground operation still made no sense to him.

 

A ring from his phone snapped Cameron from his thoughts. He turned away from the screen to reach over and grab the receiver. "Mitchell," he said.

 

"Colonel, I need you to grab Doctor Jackson and head to my office," General Landry said. "Immediately."

 

Cameron rolled his eyes. The way Landry was talking they could be sure this wasn't going to be fun. "I reckon this ain't gonna be good news for either of us."

 

"Try the planet," Landry muttered.

 

"We'll be there in a few."

 

Cameron hung up the phone and shut down his computer. He couldn't imagine what could be worse than all the other problems they were dealing with at the moment, but hey what the hell. Never a dull day at the SGC. Quietly, Cameron locked the door to his office and started down to the VIP rooms to nab Jackson.

 

Daniel sorted through his notes as he walked down the corridor to Jack's room. Cassie had already provided him with as much detail as she possibly could. Daniel had to give her credit; despite being scared and alone, she had managed to describe her situation and her pursuers in amazing detail. He sighed. Janet had taught her well.

 

Unfortunately, the information Cassie had given him wasn't incredibly useful. He'd given the relevant descriptions to the data technician to do a personnel search, but that was going to take some time. So would a check on the cars she'd seen. Daniel doubted they would get value from those pieces of intel alone.

 

He was hoping maybe Jack had seen something Cassie hadn't.

 

Ramming the file under his arm, Daniel swiped his card and opened the door, meeting a very unpleasant young Jack inside. He was sitting in a chair by the room's table, slumped, his legs stretched out in front of him. His hard glare was completely centered on Daniel.

 

"Hello." Daniel forced a smile and tried to sound friendly. He moved over to the table and sat across from Jack, reminding himself not to get annoyed by his behavior. "How are you doing?"

 

"Cut the crap, Daniel," Jack said coolly. "You're here to interrogate me."

 

"No. No, no." Daniel looked away and opened the new file. He reached into his pocket and clicked his pen, hovering over the table to take notes. "I'm just here to talk about what happened."

 

"Yeah, same difference."

 

Daniel ignored him. Jack was ever the optimist. "Do you have any idea why someone would be after you?"

Jack thumbed his belt. "Didn't we already go over this?"

 

"Not in detail." Daniel smiled again. "So…"

 

"So, what, Daniel?" Jack sighed with frustration. "I wasn't cavorting with undesirables or involved in some government conspiracy. I've been living the life of a not-so-normal teenager since the Asgard ruined my life."

 

"I know." Daniel lowered his voice, trying to show his sympathy. Jack had never asked for this to happen to him. Daniel understood it had to be hard on him, especially knowing that he had to start his life all over again. It was a sentiment to which, ironically, Daniel found he could relate. "I'm not trying to make this difficult for you, Jack. I just want the same answers you do."

 

Jack raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. With a subtle nod, he motioned for Daniel to continue.

 

"Good. So, why don't you tell me what you were doing when you first realized you were being followed."

 

Jack shifted nervously in his seat, briefly averting Daniel's gaze until he seemed to recover. He glared at Daniel, impatience in his eyes. "I was at school."

 

Daniel didn't buy that. He recognized that look; he'd seen it many a time. Curious, he leaned across the table so that he could study Jack a little more closely.

 

"I'm not an artifact, Daniel."

 

Right. Of course not. But Daniel didn't back down. He crowded the table, his hands folded, as he eyed Jack intently. "Were you skipping class? Hanging around the school grounds…"

 

Jack rolled his eyes. "Please. I was on my way to the principal's office."

 

Daniel nodded and scribbled that down. "So, whatever you had done, would that have caught the eye of the men that were following you?"

 

"No, look." He paused, as if uncertain how to continue. Jack looked down at his hands. "I was running an errand for one of my teachers."

 

Daniel looked up. Now that was certainly interesting. "An errand. As in…"

 

Jack sighed. "I was delivering some test sheets to the principal for one of my teachers. Happy?"

 

Daniel couldn't fight the grin that spread over his lips. "You're the teacher's pet."

 

"Yeah, and I'm sure you never were."

 

"Actually, I wasn't." Daniel thought back to the not so fond memories of his youth. He'd always been ahead in his classes, skipping grades, and excelling past the normal curriculum. He's spent his teenage years translating Phoenician poetry while most of his classmates were playing touch-tag football. "I was a bit of a trouble maker," Daniel said, recalling his boredom.

 

"You? Trouble? Nah." Jack's eyes were gleaming. "I never would have guessed."

 

"Besides, you already know all about my personal history." He glanced over his notepad and his notes before tapping the paper. "But let's get back to why those men were following you."

 

"Daniel, we can sit here all day talking about it and get nowhere.  They came to the school, told a pack of lies to the principal, and I ran. There was no way I could talk my way out of it, so I called you. You have one of the men in custody." He tilted his head, studying Daniel carefully. "What was in those vials anyway?"

 

Daniel held his gaze for a heartbeat before he glanced down to his notes. "That's classified."

 

"You can't be serious. This is me," Jack said, pointing to himself.

 

"I know."

 

"Look, Daniel," Jack said, standing. He approached the table and slammed his hands onto the surface. While he was trying to be intimidating, Daniel had a hard time taking a seventeen year old very seriously, even if he had the mind of a deadly Special Ops man inside. "I can help."

 

"Jack, you aren't even old enough to vote."

 

Jack's eyes narrowed.

 

Daniel went to comment, but he was stopped by a loud knock to the door. The security clicked, the door opened, and Colonel Mitchell poked his head through the space.

 

"Hey, Jackson," he called. "General Landry wants us stat."

 

Daniel frowned when he heard the seriousness in Mitchell's tone. For the short amount of time Daniel had known him, he'd gathered Mitchell was a jovial upbeat kind of person. He was the type that didn't take himself too seriously unless he had to, or unless something was dire enough to stop him dead in his tracks.

 

Either way didn't make Daniel feel any better.

 

Quickly, he gathered his paper and notepad and shoved them back into his file. He jumped to his feet, leaving a bewildered Jack behind him as he headed for the door.

 

"Hey!" Jack called after him. "What gives?"

 

Turning around, Daniel paused at the exit and pressed his hand against the doorframe. "I honestly don't know."

 

"Daniel…"

 

He offered Jack his most sympathetic gaze. "I'll talk to the general and see what he has to say."

 

"Thanks."

 

Daniel nodded and hurried out the door. The look of relief and gratitude on Jack's face had been a bit much. Daniel doubted that General Landry would allow Jack any access he might be hoping to obtain, but the least Daniel could do was try. He was still Jack, in some form or another.

 

"What was that all about?" Mitchell asked him as they started toward General Landry's office.

 

"Jack is bored." When he found Mitchell just staring at him, he tried a different approach. "Jack has never been one to sit back and let things happen. Well, aside from fishing…" he added before shaking his head. "To be stuck sitting around when he knows we're all working on something important drives him nuts."

 

"Even though it's not him."

 

"Well, it is him. In a way."

 

From the corner of his eye, Daniel caught Mitchell shrug. "You're thinking of asking Landry if he can help out?"

 

Daniel smiled and patted Mitchell on the shoulder. "It can't hurt to try."

 

Cameron followed Jackson into General Landry's office. Cameron had been quiet for the better part of their walk as he reflected on how to approach Jackson about his reservations. Part of him hoped that he was just being paranoid, but how on earth was he to supposed to confront Jackson about his issue with Cassandra and the clone with no proof?

 

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together. He glanced at General Landry who was seated at his desk. "What's up?"

 

"Close the door," Landry said, motioning to Mitchell with his pen. "And take a seat."

 

Jackson and Cameron eased into the chairs set up in front of Landry's desk. Jackson let out a deep breath and frowned, still holding onto his files. Cameron didn't quite mimic his tension outwardly, but was feeling it inside. He leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms.

 

Landry's gaze fell to Jackson. "You have something for me, I take it?"

 

"Yes. Some information on the men that attacked Cassandra, actually." Jackson leaned forward and placed the folder on Landry's desk. "She managed to get some fairly detailed descriptions and even identified a plate number." He tapped the folder once before he leaned back. "I'm not sure how far it will get us, but it's a start."

 

"Joseph Owens," Landry said. "The man we have in custody used to work for the NID. His current position is now classified."

 

Cameron's eyes widened and he shot a look over at Jackson. Oh, he didn't look none too happy.

 

"Classified?" Jackson asked.

 

"Classified as in military classified?" Cameron added.

 

That caused Landry to raise his eyebrows.

 

"Are you telling me this guy is working for the government somehow?" Cameron just did not want to go down this route.

 

"Military. Civilian. Either way, he's working in connection to the government." Landry folded his hands, his piercing gaze steady on both Cameron and Jackson. "Normally, I would take the position that he might be a rogue agent of some kind, but he seems pretty confident that he'll be released."

 

"So, you're thinking that this Joseph Owens – or any of these men, for that matter – have orders or at least are protected through the government?" Jackson asked.

 

"Damn, that's cold," Cameron muttered, shaking his head. The repercussions were not something he wanted to really deal with right now.

 

"It gets worse."

 

"Worse?" Jackson stared at Landry, mouth open, his face wavering between annoyance and disbelief. "How can it get worse?"

 

Cameron watched as Landry's hand moved toward the phone. There was a red light flashing. Curious, he raised his eyebrows and studied Landry.

 

"I just got off the phone with General O'Neill in Washington," Landry finally answered, his voice grave. "The President is getting pressure from the countries involved in the IOA to draw up a treaty with the Ori."

 

Cameron laughed. He found he couldn't do anything but laugh. This was some seriously messed up stuff. He just couldn't believe that after all they had been through this year, plague not withstanding, that no one was sound enough of mind to know this was the worst idea in the history of ideas.

 

Jackson just continued to stare open-mouthed. But Cameron had started to learn that the deep lines that formed on Jackson's forehead, or the twitch to his neck and shoulders, usually meant he was really angry about something and was about ready to blow. Jackson was twitching again.

 

"This is a joke, right?" Jackson asked. "You can't be serious."

 

"I'm afraid I'm deadly serious," Landry said in the most severe voice Cameron had ever heard from him.

 

Time to divert attention away from Jackson. "With all due respect, sir, this bites. Did these people even see Independence Day? Mars Attacks?"

 

"Even if they did, I doubt they would care." Landry shook his head. "The East is reeling enough from natural disasters and problems like the bird flu. The Ori Plague only confounded the difficulties they were already having."

 

"The Chinese government is pressing for a treaty, aren't they?" Jackson asked.

 

Landry gave them both that look that meant they'd nailed it.

 

"And what about Europe? Russia?" Cameron asked.

 

Landry shook his head again. "I don't have any idea what political factions are at work there." He glanced over at his phone. "But I'm not in the best position to talk about that right now. I do have someone online who is." Quickly, Landry pressed onto the panel of his phone. "Jack, I've put you on speaker phone with Daniel and Mitchell."

 

"Daniel? Mitchell?" O'Neill's voice carried through the room.

 

Jackson cut right to the chase. "Jack, what the hell is going on?"

 

"That's what I'd like to know," he answered. O'Neill sighed. "The President called me into a meeting to tell me that he was getting pressure from the IOA to 'discuss' our position with the Ori."

 

"Our position. And just what is our position, anyway?" Jackson asked hotly.

 

Cameron heard something unintelligible from the other end before O'Neill cleared his throat and spoke again. "Daniel, you know what my position is on this whole fiasco, but it's my job to make sure the planet stays protected."

 

Jackson had moved from near explosive to looking positively nuclear. Cameron looked to Landry, searching for some sign he was reading O'Neill incorrectly. Landry remained stiff as board.

 

"Jack, you can't be suggesting…"

 

"Oh, please.  Of course I'm not suggesting a damn treaty. And neither is the President. I've briefed both him and the Joint Chiefs. There is no way we're going to negotiate with aliens that tried to wipe us out with bioweapons."

 

Cameron leaned forward, closer to the phone as if it would help him get his point across. "I hear a but in all this…"

 

"Those in Hayes' administration that know about the Stargate Program are split on how to deal with the Ori. I swear these people have their heads shoved so far up their asses that—"

 

"Jack," Landry said wearily.

 

"I'm due to meet with the IOA in two days. By then, I have orders from the President to submit proof as to why a treaty with the Ori would not be in Earth's best interest. If I can't provide that proof, the President may be forced to strike a compromise with the IOA and their respective countries."

 

"That means a treaty, doesn't it?" Cameron leaned back and shook his head. Wasn't that just special. "There's not gonna be any proof that will please these people."

 

"What?" Jackson asked, exasperated. "The Ori Plague wasn't enough?"

 

"You'd think it would be," O'Neill said. "But nope, course not. Just once I'd like for these pencil pushers to go through the Gate and see what it's like."

 

Landry sighed. "What do you need from us?"

 

"Nice segue," Cameron said, pretending he was now not the focus of Jackson's exasperation.

 

"I need some kind of proof to show the IOA."

 

Cameron glanced at Landry before turning to Jackson. They all knew that this wasn't a simple request. No, Cameron reckoned that this was not going to go down well at all. Now, just how the hell they were going to find something more obvious than a plague, he didn't know. All he knew was that in the end, it wasn't going to be pretty.

 

"Jack, if a pandemic isn't enough to convince anyone, I don't see what can." Jackson sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Two days?"

 

"I don't care. Find me something that has to do with all this Doomsday stuff. Do what you have to do to get me the proof so I can nip this in the bud. And no more of this addictive corn," he mumbled. "You have two days."

 

Jackson sat up straighter, "Jack!"

 

"Don't worry. I'm working on stalling. And General Hammond has been playing diplomat with the Chinese, among others. He's good at that sort of thing." He paused. "Landry?"

 

He nodded. "We've got our orders."

 

"Good. Don't let me down, Daniel."

 

There was an audible click and the line went dead.

 

The three of them sat is silence. Cameron hadn't a clue what kind of proof they could find or even where they could find it. And if and when they did, then what? Jackson couldn't even convince the Appropriations Committee for more funding despite having the dominatrix linked to him. He was right in thinking nothing would change the International Oversight Advisory's mind. This wasn't a matter of just running scared. These people had their own agendas and had made up their minds long ago. He wondered if that's how SG-1 had felt with Kinsey.

 

"Well," Jackson finally said, bringing up a humorless smile. "This day keeps getting better."

 

"We don't have any new intelligence coming from our allies, aside from unsubstantiated vague threats of Doomsday and a possible crusade, that could implicate the Ori in anything more serious than the plague." He paused, looking both Cameron and Jackson squarely in the eyes. "I'm open to suggestions."

 

Jackson glanced over to Cameron. He could tell what Jackson was thinking. It sure as hell would be nice if they had any.

 

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

 

The words cut through Cameron just as the sound of the klaxons filled the office. Immediately, Jackson, Landry, and himself charged out the door and headed down to the control room below.

 

Harriman was sitting where he always seemed to sit, plugging away at the controls in front of him. As usual, Jackson sidled up behind him along with General Landry. Cameron decided to slip beside Jackson so he could get a better view.

 

Harriman tilted his head, turning upward to meet Landry's gaze. "Sir, it's Langara."

 

Jackson's face went white at the sound of that word. Which, in turn, immediately sparked a memory filed away somewhere in Cameron's brain.

 

"Langara. I read that report. That's the planet with all the bickering, snotty two-timers, isn't it?"

 

"Something like that," Jackson said quietly. He moved away from Cameron and hovered over Harriman and the controls. "This is Daniel Jackson."

 

"Doctor Jackson." The voice was filled with relief. "It sure is good to hear you."

 

"Jonas?" Jackson stood a little straighter, rubbing his temple with his index finger. Cameron could tell he was a little more than surprised, but he wasn't really sure why. "It's good to talk to you, too…what's going on?"

 

"Daniel, it's bad."

 

Cameron and Jackson exchanged a hesitant look before returning their attention to the closed Stargate. What else could possibly go wrong?

 

"There's a Prior on Langara."

 

Chapter 4

 

Sam waited at the entrance of Area 51 and scowled, glancing at her watch. She flashed her most patient and personable smile to the guard who was standing with her. She glanced down at her watch again. Every minute that passed was time wasted. Time wasted set them back further; they were behind enough as it was.

 

God, they'd tried to use alien technology against her and her friends. Again. Sam tried not to dwell on how many times SG-1's exploits and spoils had been used against them, but as far as she was concerned, even once was one too many.

 

Sam was growing weary of the problems that she had faced over the years. The cost had been too great. She'd lost so many friends. She'd lost people she loved. She'd lost family. And even though her father had been given a second lease on life, she'd lost him again, too.

 

She'd become tired.

 

Maybe somewhere in the back of her mind she'd thought working in Research and Development would have changed that. She could escape the pain. She could walk away from all the death. The distance could allow her to try to rebuild and give her some perspective. She could focus on those she loved. She could be a person again.

 

Then, Daniel ran into trouble with the Ori. She had been recalled to work at the SGC. All of a sudden she found herself on SG-1 again. But strangely, nothing happened. She didn't break. She didn't crumble. She remained Sam – the same old Sam.  She went about her day just like any other.

 

Sam could have theorized forever on the changes and variations in her life, or the divergent possibilities that lay within, but her thoughts kept returning to Cassie. She glanced at her watch. Every minute that went by…

 

"Colonel Carter."

 

Sam glanced up to see Agent Barrett approaching her. Business as usual, he was dressed in a standard suit, his face serious, with the occasional flicker of humor shining in his eyes. He extended his hand.

 

Sam reached out and shook it. "Agent Barrett."

 

"You're looking well," he told her.

 

She smiled but withdrew her hand. "Thank you. So are you. But can we dispense with the pleasantries?"

 

He nodded, his humor gone, as they started to enter the general entrance to the facility. "I was in touch with General Landry." He glanced over to the guard. Sam shook her head. "He passed along the necessary information."

 

"Good. This is Captain Harding. He'll be escorting us to the main office and holding where we'll change and drop off our personal belongings. Then, we'll be escorted to Research and Development."

 

"Sounds good."

 

Neither of them said much as Harding brought them to holding. They were processed, changed into the drab khaki jumpsuits mandatory for security purposes, and led into the main facility. Captain Harding had since been replaced with Major Kelley who guided them down a series of hallways and checkpoints.

 

Sam stepped closer to Barrett and lowered her voice. "What do you have?"

 

"I did a check through our system with the information General Landry provided. It seems your would-be attacker is Joseph Owens. He worked for the NID a year ago."

 

Sam shook her head and looked away. How could one organization be so corrupt? Over a year ago, the agency had finally been announced clean. Just what the NID consider clean?

 

"So, there is an NID connection," she said.

 

"Apparently. But as I said, he left the organization a year ago."

 

She glanced over to him. "The Trust?"

 

Barrett shook his head. "I don't think so. His next known address is a place in Virginia, right outside of D.C."

 

Sam fell silent. Barrett's voice held a certain tone, a paradoxically edgy softness that she had come to know as a sign he was leading into something. She stopped to glare at him. "Are you suggesting that this ex-agent of yours is now working for the federal government?"

 

He paused along side her, not missing a beat. "D.C. is the hub for most agencies. The NID, Homeworld Security, Congress, Hayes' administration, the Pentagon…the list goes on and on, Colonel. The rogue agents had links to Kinsey and we know how far deep that connection went."

 

Sam shook her head and started walking again. She had hoped that when Kinsey had been exposed, the deep-seated corruption would have gone with him. Now, they had another potential conspiracy that lay in the heart of the Capital. At this point, she couldn't be sure if this was something entirely new, or if the Trust had regained hold of their influence in Washington and beyond.

 

Sam and Barrett showed their badges at the next check in. They both walked down the corridor, following Major Kelley towards Research and Development. She knew where to find the biolabs. She just hoped that Doctor Emerson was still working on the project. At least Sam felt comfortable enough searching for answers from one of her former colleagues.

 

Sam leaned closer to Barrett and whispered into his ear. "I'm sure Landry couldn't inform you of the brunt of this assignment over the phone, but we're here to investigate a highly dangerous biological agent."

 

"He mentioned the Nishta Project," he said in an equally low voice. "I'm familiar with the research, but I'm sure you know a hell of a lot more than I do. I assume this has something to do with the incident that happened early today?"

 

Sam nodded. "Nishta is composed of an organism that can be used to make the host open to suggestion or can be used in more severe cases of brainwashing. Agent Barrett, if this biological agent falls into the wrong hands and is used in an attempt to infiltrate all branches of the government, including the military and the SGC, we could be looking at a foothold situation. Our entire country could be compromised."

 

"The Goa'uld? Ba'al?" he asked.

 

She nodded. "It's a theory."

 

"One I hope we can reserve as a worst-case scenario only."

 

"The potential is there," Sam said. She thought of General O'Neill's clone and Cassandra and her stomach tightened. "They could have used it on anyone and we wouldn't know."

 

"They tried to use it on Doctor Jackson this morning," Barrett said. "And would have possibly attempted the same on Cassandra Fraiser and…Jack O'Neill if you hadn't gotten there." He nodded, his expression cool and distant, as if he were working out the problem. "Not unlike the first problem we worked on together."

 

"No, I guess not," she admitted.

 

He nodded slowly. "We make a pretty good team, wouldn't you say?"

 

Sam smiled, but it was tempered by the weight of their situation. They reached the last checkpoint at the entrance to R&D. She nodded her thanks to Major Kelley who allowed them access into the labs. When he was gone, she returned her attention back to Barrett. "We'll see." Sam waved her hand toward the door. "Shall we?"

 

Jonas sat at the briefing room table, occasionally raising his hand to wave at any number of soldiers that walked by the exit. He had to admit that he was surprised by many of the differences here, even if the SGC had been good enough to inform the Langaran Committee of the major staffing changes at Cheyenne Mountain. Jonas figured he was just feeling a little in awe of the Stargate, having missed the feel of travel, or maybe the nostalgia of his good times when he was a part of SG-1.

 

He smiled and waved a little hello to the man named Cameron Mitchell who had slid into the seat across from him.

 

"Is…Major Carter around?" Jonas asked.

 

"Colonel," Mitchell said, correcting him. "She's a colonel now."

 

Jonas nodded. "Well, that's great." He tapped his fingers and looked around, wondering where Doctor Jackson had gone.

 

"She's working on a project," Mitchell said. "Not on the base." Mitchell leaned forward, studying Jonas in a way that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Are you the Jonas Quinn that was on SG-1 for a year?"

 

"That would be me."

 

"I read all your reports. Those were sweet times." Mitchell laughed and leaned back in his seat. "I'm on SG-1, myself, now."

 

"We'd been informed that Jack O'Neill had been promoted and that there were some changes here at the SGC." Jonas looked around the room, remembering the briefings and the discussions he'd had with various people. "But the place still feels the same."

 

"Doesn't it, though?" Mitchell turned to swivel in his chair and glance over at the Stargate. "It's an amaz—"Mitchell stopped and stood as Doctor Jackson and the new General Landry stepped into the briefing room. Jonas turned his attention to the two of them.

 

"Ah, there you guys are," Mitchell said cheerfully. "We were just catching up on old times."

 

Daniel tilted his head. "Wouldn't you need to have old times to begin with in order to catch up on them?"

 

Jonas chuckled and pointed to Daniel. "Ah, Doctor Jackson, you still have your wit."

 

Daniel paused long enough to smile at Jonas, before he became serious again and took his seat next to him. General Landry headed towards General Hammond's coveted old seat.

 

"Sorry for the delay," Landry told Jonas, sounding as apologetic as a military man possibly could. "We've had a busy day here. I hope you can understand."

 

"Oh, I understand. I worked here for a year or so. I know how intense this place can truly be."

 

Jonas smiled again, even if inside he felt anything but cordial. He knew based on the initial warnings the SGC had given Langara and their other allies earlier this year that priors were bad news, but he was also concerned what could be so important here on Earth that it was weighing so heavily on the personnel. It seemed as though, to him, the entire SGC had a cloud hanging over their head.

 

"Good," Landry said. "So, we're all on the same page."

 

"Now, you said a Prior visited your world," Daniel said, wasting no time jumping into the conversation. Jonas glanced over to him to see he was already busily scribbling away. "When did this first happen?"

 

"Just today," Jonas said. "He came through the Stargate on Kelowna and immediately started preaching Origin. I met with the First Minister to give my recommendations on the subject." He sighed, shaking his head. "First Minister Dreylock did her best to stall the Prior while I dialed the Stargate to come here."

 

"These guys just don't give up," Mitchell muttered.

 

Jonas eyed him closely, reading the experience in his eyes. "My people are never going to accept Origin. We-we haven't had a Goa'uld ruling over us for thousands of years. There is no way our people are just going to sit back and let someone else take over."

 

Daniel sighed. "I can't imagine the Tiranians and the Andari are going to take this well."

 

Jonas let out a humorless chuckle. "Despite the Committee and the Joint Council, our three nations are not getting along well. If either the Andari or the Tiranians find out about this Prior, they'll believe it's a Kelownan ploy and any hope at a long-lasting peace will be gone."

 

"Boy, these Priors are sure spreading the love, now aren't they?" Mitchell mumbled.

 

"Jonas…" Daniel said slowly. The mix of anger and apprehension in his eyes made Jonas a little queasy. "You do know if your people don't submit to the Ori, they could wipe out your people."

 

Jonas nodded and looked down at his hands. He knew this from the initial warnings that the SGC had sent, though he sensed something far more horrible had since happened. But even so, he also knew that Doctor Jackson was not suggesting for them to give up.

 

"That's why I came here. Maybe with your help…"

 

Jonas stopped when he realized the mood had shifted in the room. Landry wore a sympathetic gaze, one that had managed to poke through his hard exterior while Mitchell seemed tense and uncomfortable. Daniel looked the most awkward, his head down, his face buried from sight. If Jonas knew anything about the man in their short time together, he knew that Daniel felt torn or conflicted.

 

Then, it clicked.

 

"You…you are going to help us," Jonas said, trying to sound firm, but realizing his voice was close to cracking.

 

None of them answered.

 

Jonas felt the betrayal cut through him like a knife. He'd worked at the SGC for a year. He'd left his own country and smuggled in naquadria for Earth to use and manage. He'd helped them fight Anubis. Why would they turn on him now?

 

"Mister Quinn…" Landry started.

 

"No, I understand. I understand perfectly."

 

"No, I don't think you do," Daniel said.

 

Jonas sent a puzzled glance over in Daniel's direction before he turned to Landry. The general sighed. "Mister Quinn, we've just recently – as in today – received some disturbing intel that we need to handle. This has nothing to do with you, your plight, or your people."

 

"Jonas, we have two days to find evidence to support our position that the Ori need to be stopped," Daniel clarified for him. Daniel paused, cleared his throat, and got the nod to continue from Landry. "We're having an international dispute not unlike your own."

 

"Then, you understand." Jonas didn't take it any further.

 

"Only we're stuck," Mitchell added. "Even a plague ain't good enough for these people."

 

Jonas jerked with surprise. He hadn't realized a plague had hit Earth. Then again, their two worlds hadn't spoken in quite a long time. With Langaran politics heating up and the troubles on Earth…well, at least Jonas now knew why. Curious, he turned to ask Daniel if the plague was related to the sickness they'd experienced in Antarctica, but before he could even verbalize the question, Daniel seemed to read his mind and nodded in reply.

 

"Wow," Jonas said. It seemed to be the only thing he could say.

 

"So, I'm sure you can understand," Landry said. "We need to dedicate our resources to finding something that will sway the international community."

 

"Jack needs this information for a meeting he has in two days." Daniel sighed and looked down at his hands. "And we haven't even started."

 

"What about coming to Kelowna then?" Jonas knew it was a long shot, but he had to try anyway. "Maybe the Priors have stepped up their campaign and you could find something useful there."

 

"We've encountered these brainwashed creeps on planet after planet," Mitchell said. "There's no getting through to them."

 

"And if we go, we could be putting you and your people at considerable risk. The Ori and the Priors know who we are," Daniel said, his voice holding more weight than Jonas had heard in a long time.

 

Jonas pondered his words, beginning to wonder just what SG-1 had gone through this year. But he knew they weren't heartless. He could see they were stuck and were waiting for the right opportunity. He had to think of something that could work.

 

"I don't mean to sound selfish, but couldn't another SG team go looking for this proof you need? Or, maybe you could send an experienced team back to Kelowna with me while you continue to try to work this out."

 

Daniel glanced over to Mitchell before turning his gaze onto Landry. Neither Mitchell nor Landry said anything, though Jonas could tell by Daniel's pleading eyes that he was appealing to their sympathetic side. Jonas thought maybe it was working. Landry turned to Mitchell, and the colonel gave a slight but perceptible nod.

 

"All right. Colonel Mitchell, Doctor Jackson, I want you to accompany Jonas Quinn back to Kelowna. I'll have SG-12 sort through any of the latest intelligence to see if we can start from there." Landry stood and Mitchell stood to match him. "See if you can find anything on Kelowna that could be useful for both our planets."

 

Jonas sighed with relief. He pivoted his chair so he could look at Daniel, hoping that his smile expressed the gratitude he was feeling.

 

Daniel nodded once in acknowledgment, but he was on his feet again before Jonas could say anything. Daniel had gathered up his folder and had walked over to meet General Landry at the entrance to his office. Jonas couldn't really hear the conversation very well, though he did pick up on a few words here and there. "Help" and "Jack" and "useful." But even more interesting was that Mitchell was standing right along side them, listening to every word.

 

Jonas wasn't sure exactly what it was that made Mitchell stand out, but there was something. Maybe it was the way he was listening, with his body stiff and his face dead serious. Or maybe it was the sly little glances he kept shooting Jonas' way. He just didn't know. The guy seemed friendly enough.

 

"I'll take that under advisement. Now, you and Colonel Mitchell have a mission to complete."

 

Daniel nodded, looking partly triumphant and maybe a little defeated, as he started walking back toward Jonas.  Jonas smiled again, and even offered a little wave, despite the fact his real attention was on Mitchell. He was standing by Landry, his voice too low to hear, but Jonas caught the way Mitchell was gazing at Daniel. And if he was reading the new general right, he seemed to agree.

 

"Hey, Daniel," Jonas said quietly. "How're you liking the new colonel?"

 

"Oh, Mitchell?" Daniel shrugged. "He's a good guy. A little green, but he's getting the hang of it." He smiled at Jonas and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get going."

 

"Sure," Jonas said. But as Daniel passed by him, allowing Jonas another look at Mitchell and Landry, he got that uncomfortable feeling again. They had taken one last glance back at him and Daniel before the two of them had disappeared into Landry's office.

 

Sam studied each workstation as she walked down the aisles in the lab. She would pause and write in her notepad before moving onto the next. Doctor Emerson had given her full access to the labs, as well as the samples, in an effort to show that the project was still on track. Sam hadn't gone into detail on the exact nature of her investigation, or that she was investigating at all. As far as the staff was concerned, Sam and Barrett were just heading up a routine evaluation of the program. But as far as Sam could tell, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

 

"As you can see, Colonel, since you've left we've had increased success in stabilizing the organism," Emerson said proudly. She approached one of the main refrigeration units in the lab. After keying in her passcode, the unit opened, exposing vials filled with liquids of various colors. "By cloning the cells of the dead organisms we had from SG-1's tissue samples and injecting them into fresh blood samples, we were able to synthesize the chemical effect they have on the host body." She smiled proudly at the results in the freezer. "We can now manufacture a milder form of the organism in both gaseous and liquid form."

 

"Did you ever do any trial runs?" Barrett said from the other side of the room. He was flipping through some of the paperwork from the lab research.

 

Doctor Emerson hesitated. Both Barrett and Sam exchanged an uneasy look as they waited for Emerson to continue. Finally, when she realized that they were waiting, she spoke.

 

"Yes. So far we've had two successful tests."

 

"When were these tests done?" Barrett asked.

 

"They were just done three months ago." Emerson motioned to one of the workstations. "We had two staff members volunteer for the project. We exposed them to the nishta, kept them under surveillance, and concluded the experiment. Both came through without a problem." Her eyes twinkled with delight. "And both have had success in overcoming their weight problem."

 

Sam forced a smile. Months ago, she would have been as proud as Doctor Emerson in their progress, but now she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Just based on what happened today alone, no matter how good the lab's intentions were, this would never be used properly.

 

"You said successful, right?" Sam asked.

 

Emerson nodded. "Yes."

 

"So, there were unsuccessful attempts," Barrett said. He walked over to meet both Sam and Emerson. "What happened in those attempts?"

 

Whatever pride Emerson had displayed with her work ebbed into embarrassment and discomfort. "Some people didn't take to our modified compound. A few people became ill."

 

"How ill?" Sam pressed.

 

"They were hospitalized."

 

Sam shook her head, trying to keep her frustration in check. She glanced over at Barrett who seemed to be having more trouble than she was.

 

"What happened to them?" Sam asked.

 

Emerson turned away from Sam and closed the refrigerator. "A couple of people became comatose. We found that the organism had penetrated too deeply into their tissues to the point their bodies could not function on their own."

 

"I take it this is nothing compared to what happened to the ones you haven't mentioned," Barrett said coolly.

 

Emerson sighed and walked a few steps away from them. Sam and Barrett watched her closely. Emerson seemed to be fighting for composure or trying to decide whether she should even be speaking to them.

 

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" Emerson asked.

 

"Why would you think that?" Barrett returned.

 

Emerson retraced her steps and hovered close to Sam. She steered Sam and Barrett over to one of the workstations and bent over the equipment.

 

"Our backs are to the cameras," she whispered. "I didn't want to say anything because I could go to jail for this."

 

"We can get you immunity," Barrett said.

 

"I don't think you can." She pretended to start demonstrating one of the tools to Sam and Barrett. "What happened has been classified."

 

Classified? Sam shot a wary look to Barrett. Somewhere past his cool and collected exterior, Sam could tell he was just as pissed off as she was.

 

"I'm only telling you because I know I can trust you," Emerson said to Sam. "You always believed in the positives in the project. You really wanted this to work."

 

"What happened?" Sam asked.

 

"Some of the volunteers took too well to the nishta compound." Emerson shook her head. "They lost themselves. They became like empty vessels. All their personality just evaporated. They could only do as they were told."

 

"Drones," Sam whispered.

 

"That's a fair assessment," Emerson said. She picked up an empty vial and held it up to the light, examining it, before she placed it back down. "We couldn't reach them anymore," she said, continuing as she feigned her demonstration. "Sure, they did what we told them to do, but we couldn't snap them out of it. Their eyes are empty. That is how you can tell. There's nothing inside."

 

"What about blood tests? Tissue samples?" Sam asked.

 

Emerson shook her head. "Since we synthesized the nishta, we made sure that it untraceable. It's nearly undetectable in once injected."

 

"Nearly," Sam repeated. "But not entirely."

 

"No, not entirely."

 

That gave Sam some hope.

 

"How does this connect to Joseph Owens?" Barrett asked. He nodded and pointed to the vials, urging Sam to do the same.

 

She was way ahead of him. She had started nodding her approval, making "note" of it in her file.

 

"Joe?" Emerson seemed genuinely surprised by the name. "Well, he worked with us last year. He was the official NID representative overseeing the project."

 

"Or unofficial," Sam said, raising her eyebrows at Barrett.

 

"Agent Owens was here on assignment in conjunction with a different project," Barrett told them. "What was he doing here?"

 

Emerson looked away, flipping through a small book that was by the side of the workstation. She licked her lips and bowed her head, remaining silent.

 

"Barbara?" Sam asked. She placed her hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

 

"He was here under presidential order," Emerson stated quietly.

 

Sam felt her mouth grow dry. She shot an angry look to Barrett, but he was just as shocked. She couldn't fathom why President Hayes would sanction something so dangerous and so discreet, especially when he had close ties to General Hammond and General O'Neill. She also could not accept that he would put Cassie or O'Neill's clone in such a hazardous situation. He had always supported the SGC. He was the one that prompted for General O'Neill's recent promotion. How could he even consider something like this? And then there was the little doubt that kept coming to the surface. Chances were that if the President had given this thought, he would have consulted with both General O'Neill and General Hammond. Their support in something as serious as this was not a thought she could consider right now. She just couldn't. Neither one of them would have ever agreed to something so deceitful.

 

"Are you sure?" Sam finally asked.

 

Emerson nodded. "Joe took a sample of the drug we'd created last year and brought it to the Pentagon."

 

"When did he do this?" Barrett asked.

"I-I don't know," Emerson said.

 

"It's really important," Sam stressed. "Do you know when he presented you with a presidential order to confiscate a sample of last year's trial?"

 

Emerson rubbed her hands nervously. "He came back. He came back a few months ago. I told him we were almost done with the newer sample but he wanted the old one."

 

Sam sighed, turning her head away with frustration. That would have placed the order right during Hayes current administration and advisors, including General O'Neill. Again, she couldn't deal with the possible implications of this information. Instead, she focused on what this did tell her. Joseph Owens was working under the behest of someone long after he dissolved his unofficial work with the program last year and it looked like the President.

 

She shot an anxious look over to Barrett. He understood.

 

"Well, I hate to tell you but your Joe attacked a civilian consultant to the military this morning and might have been plotting to use the substance on two children," Barrett said.

 

"No." Emerson shook her head, her eyes wide. "Joe had promised that nothing harmful would have come from their analysis of the drug."

 

"Well, it did," Sam said bluntly. She tapped the desk and lowered her voice even more. "Barbara, I need for you to pack up your stuff. We're going to escort you to the SGC for protection. You'll be safe there."

 

Emerson shook her head before raking her shaking hands through her short hair. "I-I can't."

 

"The SGC will protect you," Barrett assured her. "And the NID will conduct a full investigation into this matter. We'll protect the integrity of your research."

 

"No," Emerson said empathically. "You don't understand. If what you're telling me is true, then my work here is more important now than ever."

 

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

 

Emerson met her gaze, her eyes intense and full of fear. "Sam, there is no cure for OC-17. The version of the drug we had last year is all-pervasive. Joe didn't take the perfected form of the drug."

 

"Are you telling us there is absolutely no way to help those infected with the older prototype?" Barrett asked angrily.

 

"Not at the time, no," she said quietly.

 

Barrett opened his mouth and Sam was sure he was about to slam the table, but she grabbed him and smiled cordially at Doctor Emerson. "Thank you so much for your help, Doctor." She allowed her voice to carry. She extended her hand to Emerson. "I'll be sure to tell my superiors the progress you've made with this drug. As you know, you have the full support of the SGC. You'll find General Landry signed off on our continued cooperation."

 

Sam caught Barrett nodding from the corner of her eye. "Yes, thank you. So far, you've followed compliance procedures. I have a few recommendations on future adjustments to security measures, but for now I see no problems with the program. If you have any concerns, you can always give my office a call."

 

Emerson smiled, stepping closer to Sam. She shook her hand, keeping her face pleasant as she transferred a vial through their exchange. "It was good to see you again, Colonel. It's a shame you couldn't have stayed with R&D. But we'll continue to work on the project."

 

Sam nodded, tightening her hold on the small thumb-sized vial. "Thank you. We look forward to your latest update." She turned to Barrett. "I believe we're done here."

 

They waved goodbye and exchanged a few more pleasantries before they exited the room. Barrett and Sam started toward the first checkpoint. Sam eyed the security guards carefully, her gaze settling on the bowl by the x-ray machine.

 

"How are you going to get it past security?" Barrett whispered.

 

"Watch." Sam slowed and fell a step behind, using Barrett as a shield. When she was certain that most of her body was blocked she slipped the vial down her chest to settle in her bra. Smiling, she took a quick step forward to match him and rolled her shoulders to emphasize what she had done.

 

Barrett just shook his head. "Nice. But how does that help you if they decide to do a strip search?"

 

"Well, we had better hope it doesn't come to that," Sam said, her face grim.

 

Sam smiled at the security guards at the first checkpoint. It had been far easier getting in, she thought, as the guards patted her down and had her walk through the metal detector. She waited as they examined the x-ray that had been taken of her body. Barrett stepped in position to be next.

 

"Can you stand aside, ma'am?"

 

Oh boy, she thought, stepping away from the checkpoint. She watched as they finished with Agent Barrett and tried not to look nervous or guilty. When he received the go ahead, she returned to the guards and went through the process again. This time, security gave her a hard pat down, making sure that they poked and squeezed every part of her body in the most humiliating fashion.

 

"Okay, you're clear. Go on ahead. Major Hurst is waiting for you."

"Thanks," Sam said, leaving the first checkpoint behind. She walked more confidently along with Barrett as they proceeded down the hall to meet Hurst.

 

"So, are you going to tell me how you managed that?" Barrett asked, one of those sly would-be smiles touching his lips.

 

Sam tried to keep from gloating. But she wasn't about to give away the secret behind her success. Or the power that rested in padded bras that were made of a concealing material that she'd helped design.

 

"Let's just say it rests in the padding," she told him with a grin.

 

Barrett stepped aside with surprise. To Sam's amusement, she could tell he was struggling to keep his gaze from dropping down to her breasts. She broke out into a full grin, flashing her pearly whites.

 

Yes, she thought. I wear superbras. She wondered vaguely if this was what happened to people who went through the Stargate one too many times.

 

They quickly made their way through the checkpoints and reached the general offices and processing area. Sam and Barrett changed into their respective outfits and grabbed their belongings. They didn't say much as they waited to be escorted out of the facility, but then again there wasn't much to say. Not anything that could be said out in the open.

 

Once they were finished signing out, Sam and Barrett said goodbye to the guards and made their way to the parking lot. She knew they would be under surveillance and watched until they were off the premises.

 

"So," Barrett said, keeping his voice casual as they were brought through the lot. "Once this is all over, I was thinking that maybe we could relax, catch up over dinner at—"

 

Sam jumped, feeling her cellphone vibrating in her pocket. She took out the phone, waiting for one ring, two rings, before she flipped it open to check on the caller.

 

She stared. That couldn't be right.

 

"What's wrong?" Barrett asked.

 

Sam didn't answer him. She pressed the talk button and pressed the phone to her ear. "Carter," she said.

 

"Sam, what is this, some kind of sick joke?"

 

She cleared her voice. "Pete."

 

"Are you trying to prove something to me? Is this some way of getting even with me?"

 

Sam bristled. Their breakup hadn't been on the best terms, but she hadn't been able to think of a better way to let him down. In truth, she should have realized she wasn't prepared for that kind of relationship a long time ago. She'd never be able to make it up to Pete, but that didn't give him any right to take it out on her.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, keeping her voice even.

 

"Oh, don't give me any of that bull, Sam. I've got agents breathing down my neck." There was a break in the signal before it cleared. "Are you trying to tell me you have nothing to do with that?"

 

Any of the anger Sam had been feeling just seconds ago evaporated and was replaced by fear. "Did you say you were being followed?"

 

"Don't act so surprised," he muttered.

 

She glanced over at Barrett who was clearly as engrossed in the conversation as she was. Sam didn't even try to keep their call private. "Pete, listen to me. I need you to get to Cheyenne Mountain. I don't care where you are. Get there as quickly as possible. I'll make sure you have all the necessary clearance."

 

He laughed. "Are you crazy?"

 

"Dammit, Pete! I'm not joking!" She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to keep her voice steady. "I think you're in danger. Please, Pete. Please."

 

"Hey. Okay." His voice dipped and quieted, entering into that place that once left her feeling warm and special. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry. What's going on?"

 

"I don't have time to explain. Just please," she whispered.

 

"Sure." There was a pause. "I'll call you when I get there. Take care of yourself."

 

"You too. Thanks, Pete." She shut the phone.

 

Barrett waited for her to calm down. "What was that all about?"

 

"Pete is being followed by someone." She flipped her phone again, already dialing. "That's the fourth person today." Sam pressed the phone to her ear, waiting for Landry to pick up. "Every single person who has been followed has had some link to SG-1."

 

Barrett stared at her. "Anyone could be a target."

 

She pursed her lips and sent him a look that he'd won the jackpot. Ring, ring, voice mail.

 

"Dammit!" Sam held the phone, trying to think of her next move. She didn't blame Landry; he was probably in the middle of his own investigation. But this was too important to sit on. She dialed again, but this time she tried something different.

 

"Who are you calling?" Barrett asked.

 

"Someone who will make sure this gets taken care of. Now."

 

The phone was ringing. He really hated that damn phone.

 

He sighed and put his pen down, sliding his report to the side. He let the phone ring once more, just one more time…They weren't going away.

 

He snatched the receiver. "O'Neill."

 

"Sir, it's me. It's Carter."

 

"Carter!" Jack leaned back in his chair, thoroughly pleased with himself for answering the phone. "And to what do I owe this honor?"

 

There was an awkward pause on the other end. Jack straightened in his seat, unnerved at her sudden silence. "Carter?"

 

"Sir, we have a problem. I believe that anyone that has had a past history or has been associated with SG-1 is in danger."

 

Hank had told Jack earlier that day that there had been a problem with Cassie and his clone that had been resolved. This didn't sound resolved to Jack.

 

"Details?" he asked.

 

"As I am sure you are aware, this morning we received two independent reports from Cassie and your clone that they were being followed. We apprehended one of the men after he made a move against Daniel."

 

"Right. General Landry told me that there is a current investigation into the matter." He stared at the blinds that funneled the light into his office. It still was too bright. He rubbed his eyes and turned his chair away from the window. "I assume that you're working on it?"

 

"Yes, sir. But I just received a call from Pete." Jack waited for her to continue. "Sir, he's the fourth person today that has had an encounter with these men. If all of these agents have had access to nishta and have had some kind of link to the NID, this could be a conspiracy in the works."

 

"Whoa, back up, Carter. Did you say nishta?"

 

"Yes, sir." She sounded puzzled.

 

Okay, so Hank had failed to tell him that part. Frowning, Jack leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the body that had just entered his office. "And you're sure it's nishta?"

 

"Agent Barrett and I have just concluded a preliminary investigation of the Nishta Project over at Area 51. I spoke with a former colleague, Doctor Emerson, who was involved – probably personally – with a Joseph Owens, an ex-NID agent, who was part of the attempted attack this morning. He's currently in our custody."

 

"Dammit," Jack muttered. Why the hell hadn't Landry given him the specifics on this problem? "Did we get anything out of him?"

 

"Not to my knowledge, but I haven't been able to reach General Landry." She paused. "Sir, there's more."

 

"More?" Jack sighed. "How much worse can it get?"

 

"According to Agent Barrett, his file is classified and it looks like we would need top-level clearance to open it."

 

Damn. They were going through the same shit they'd gone through with Kinsey all over again.

 

"Sir, I am not comfortable giving you full disclosure over the phone. I'm on my way to the SGC. We can talk on a secured line and go over the details then."

 

"All right. Sounds like a plan."

 

Jack hated the way this sounded. He might not be as smart as Carter or Daniel, but Jack wasn't a fool. The fact that all of this was going down on the same day he had a meeting with the President over security matters with the international community was no fluke.

 

There was more to this threat than what Carter had just told him. He knew it. And if Carter was implying what he thought she was implying…

 

"Be careful," he told her. "Call me once you get secure."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Jack hung up the phone, pausing to consider his options. If Carter was right and anyone that had connections to SG-1 were in trouble, then they had to get moving and find them. Whoever was behind this already had a huge jumpstart. Failure was just not acceptable for Jack.

 

"General?"

 

"That was Carter," Jack said, turning to Major Davis. "Something big is going down in Colorado."

 

"This is serious, I take it."

 

"Oh, yeah." Jack knew serious didn't even scratch the surface.

 

Davis glanced down at the folder in his hands. "Did you want to reschedule our meeting?"

 

"No." This mess with the IOA couldn't wait. Jack wasn't about to let anything get in the way of keeping the Stargate Program viable, especially with the Ori and the Goa'uld just waiting to pounce. "It's just now we have more than one agenda on the table."

 

"And what would that agenda be?" Davis asked.

 

Wouldn't Jack like to know. He held up his finger for Davis to wait before he punched the intercom on his phone. "Jean?"

 

"Yes, General."

 

"I'd like you to place a call to George Hammond. Tell him it's urgent."

 

"I'll do that right away, sir."

 

Jack released the button and breathed out.  Folding his hands, he briefly scanned the file that was on his desk. He thought about Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c, wishing he were with them. But he had more important problems to tackle, issues that would affect them in the end. He knew he had to focus and be serious, even if he hated the damn paperwork. Even if he would rather be anywhere but here.

 

But his life wasn't about what he wanted.

 

Keeping his emotions in check, Jack motioned to the chair across from his desk. "Sit down, Major. We have a lot to discuss."

 

Daniel and Jonas walked together to the Gateroom. Daniel had to admit, the whole experience felt surreal. He'd only accompanied Jonas through the Stargate a few times and in those times he had been a different person. His life as Arrom seemed like nothing but a distant dream. Yet, it lingered and reminded him of all that he had lost and all that he had gained.

 

They stopped and stood at the base of the ramp, gazing upward at the power and majesty that the Stargate held.

 

Daniel never thought of Gate travel that way anymore. But there was something about the way the lights of the room reflected in Jonas' eyes that brought Daniel back, made him feel like he was reliving the past, which to him was far more poignant than just a walk through nostalgia. It felt real and tangible, yet just out of his grasp.

 

Maybe it was the fact he was returning to Kelowna.

 

He didn't blame the people. In the end, it had been his decision. He knew if he were to do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing. He doubted they would, either.

 

It wasn't his first time returning to the planet. But for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he felt as if it were his first time. Not just the first time he and Jonas revisited the planet together, but the very first time. The initial meeting.

 

He felt nervous and excited, but strangely detached.

 

"Doctor Jackson?" Jonas asked.

 

Daniel stared at the Gate a moment longer, allowing himself the opportunity to slowly withdraw from his thoughts. Daniel offered him a small smile, turning to face him. "I was just thinking about Gate travel. Do you still miss it?"

 

Jonas chuckled. "Every day." His smile waned, but not entirely, as he gazed at the Stargate. "Don't get me wrong. I love my planet. I love my people. But there was just something about this place." He paused, turning his back to the Gate to face Daniel.  "What's it like now that Jack is gone?"

 

Daniel started, surprised by the question. "You know that Jack had replaced General Hammond before he was reassigned." Jonas nodded. "They all have their own distinct style and methods of handling a crisis. The same goes for Colonel Mitchell or any soldier in the SGC. They're good people," he said softly, hoping that he was easing any apprehension Jonas might be feeling.

 

"Yeah," Jonas said with a nod, but his eyes still held…doubt? Daniel frowned, starting to feel some apprehension of his own.

 

Daniel dismissed it and glanced back to the door, wondering what was taking Mitchell so long. They were on a timetable, after all.

 

"What do you suppose Colonel Mitchell and General Landry were talking about?" Jonas asked.

 

"I don't know." He slid his pack in front of him and started to search through the inside. "Probably something to do with our investigation. Or military matters."

 

"And they wouldn't tell you?"

 

Daniel paused but didn't look up. "Just because I've been here the longest doesn't mean I'm told everything." Finally, he found the book he was looking for and withdrew it. "You know how it works."

 

"Yeah, that's true," Jonas said. "I just thought they would let you know."

 

Daniel eyed him closely as he slung the pack back over his shoulder. "Is there something bothering you?"

 

"Me?" Jonas frowned, waving his hand to dismiss Daniel. "No." He stopped and pointed to the book. "What's that?"

 

Daniel feigned a smile and held up the book. "Origin."

 

Jonas' face fell.

 

"No, it's not like that. Originally, we thought if we could talk to the Priors, we could make them understand what the Ori were like." When he saw that Jonas still looked puzzled, he sighed and put the book down. "The Priors aren't completely taken over by the Ori. They're only granted certain powers through the Ori. In a sense, they are sort of like the Jaffa."

 

"But you're implying you couldn't reach them."

 

Daniel nodded. "Their faith is strong, stronger than anything we've encountered with the Jaffa. And the Ori do have power. We can't deny that." He sighed. "We've tried talking to them. I've even tried debating with them over the nature of power."

 

Jonas snorted. "Let me guess. They have an answer for everything."

 

"Not exactly." Daniel couldn't help but smile. He started to flip through some of the pages, pausing at one passage in particular. "See, the book of Origin isn't flawless in its logic. I've been reading it over the past few months and I've found countless inconsistencies. While previous attempts at communicating with them haven't worked, I'm hoping that showing the Priors the blatant contradictions within the text will cause them to reconsider whatever they have planned."

 

Jonas grimaced. "I don't know. What makes you think that they'll listen to you this time, if they haven't listened before?"

 

Daniel wished he had the answer. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to get through to the Priors. He'd tried appealing to their humanity. He'd tried debating the merits and the abuses of power and corruption. He'd tried to be more like Jack and take a direct approach. He'd tried interrogation. He'd tried everything and he could not get past their steadfast beliefs.

 

How could he make them see the truth?

 

"I don't know if they'll listen," Daniel admitted. "But I have to keep trying."

 

"You never give up, do you, Jackson?" Mitchell joined him, suited up and ready, and clapped him on the shoulder.

 

"You already know the answer to that," Daniel said with a subdued smile. He turned away from Mitchell as he heard the chevrons begin to engage.

 

One…two…

 

He wondered if Kelowna had changed much. He hadn't had the chance to really ask Jonas about how things were going – aside from the general tension he'd already mentioned – since the three governments were forced to work more closely together.

 

Five…six…

 

He wondered if the naquadria had been completely depleted and what other uses they might have found for it.

 

"Chervon Seven locked," he heard Walter announce just as the Stargate sprang to life.

 

"All right, see what you can find," General Landry said.

 

"Will do," Mitchell said. He motioned with his head toward the Stargate. "Ready?" he asked.

 

Daniel nodded and extended his hand for Jonas to lead the way. Jonas breathed out and stepped forward, walking toward the Stargate. With Daniel and Mitchell in tow, Jonas passed through the event horizon. When they emerged, Daniel was surprised to see how much everything seemed the same. The Stargate remained in the underground bunker. From what he could tell, the room was still used for covert intelligence purposes, but for what kinds of intel, he couldn't say.

 

Daniel slowed his pace to absorb as many details as he could. There were some guards standing inside the room, watching them, but they made no move to interact with any of them. Jonas waved to them, seeming to be perfectly at ease. Daniel took that as a good sign.

 

"It's just this way," Jonas said. "First Minister Dreylock is waiting in one of the next rooms." They followed Jonas up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. "We used to use this room for interrogation purposes, I'm told," he explained. "But since the war has ended, they've been transformed into conference rooms for Tiranian and Andari representatives for matters regarding the Stargate."

 

"Aren't they gonna be happy when they find out all this has been going on behind their backs," Mitchell said.

 

"Well, no matter what they think it's not going to matter much in the end if we can't get through to this Prior." Daniel tried not to sound so bleak, but in truth, he couldn't sugarcoat this situation. "I think maybe you should inform the Tiranian and Andari representatives. In the end, maybe we can all come up with a contingency plan in the event something happens."

 

Daniel didn't elaborate any further. He didn't have to.

 

"I've already given First Minister Dreylock my recommendation," Jonas said with a sigh. "Other than that, I can't force the government's hands."

 

Daniel rolled his eyes. "So, not much as changed at all."

 

"No." Jonas stopped and motioned to the right corridor. "It's right through here."

Daniel nodded and stared at the doors. Not all the Priors could be this resolute. There had to be a way to reach them. Daniel was determined to get through to one. Just one could make all the difference. Daniel took a deep breath and tapped the book against his other hand.

 

Here goes nothing, he thought.

 

Following Jonas, Daniel stepped into the room, immediately noting the Prior standing in front of First Minister Dreylock and her staff.

 

Not one Prior. Two.

 

Puzzled, Daniel stared at them. He'd never seen more than one dispatched before. And Jonas hadn't told them about a second Prior.

 

"Daniel Jackson," the first Prior said, his voice echoing throughout the room. "You have come."

 

Alarmed and angry, Daniel turned to Jonas. "What's going on?" he asked Jonas, and then First Minister Dreylock.

 

But before either of them could offer any kind of explanation, Daniel caught a flicker of movement from a third person standing beside the Priors.

 

Daniel felt his stomach bottom out. "Janet?"

 

Chapter 5

 

Cameron had never known Janet Fraiser personally, but he'd gotten a good idea about what she was like from the reports he'd read while laid up in the hospital. And hanging around with Priors didn't fit the bill.

 

Not to mention by all accounts she was supposed to be dead.

 

"Is this another one of those alternate realities?" he asked.

 

Not that anyone was going to answer him. Jackson looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Well, technically, Cameron supposed he had. Quinn seemed stuck, as if he were trying to formulate some kind of suitable answer, while that lady named Dreylock looked guiltier than a kid who just got caught raiding the cookie jar.

 

And Fraiser? She looked empty. Eerily empty. Maybe the ghost bit wasn't so far off the mark.

 

"What the hell is this?" Jackson demanded. His focus bounced from Prior to Prior, avoiding Janet altogether before his gaze turned cold and hard. He glared at Quinn.

 

"There was only one Prior when I left the planet," Quinn said. "I swear, I don't know what happened."

 

"They arrived shortly after you left," Dreylock said quietly.

 

"We have been waiting for you to return to the path," the first Prior said.

 

Jackson wasn't listening. "Janet?" He motioned with his hand, beckoning her closer. "Janet, come with me."

 

She didn't move. Fraiser remained silent, a little too quiet for Mitchell's liking. He'd encountered one of her from one of those other dimensions or realities, and he had to say having a tiny little mute Fraiser freaked the hell out of him.

 

"Jackson," Cameron said, his voice low. "I don't think this is such a good idea. You don't know where she's been."

 

"I don't care," Jackson said without looking back. His gaze was solely focused on Fraiser. He walked towards her, his hand extended forward. "Janet, come here. Come with me. We'll go back to the SGC."

 

The second Prior stepped between them, blocking Jackson access with his staff. "The unclean shall not touch those blessed by the Ori."

 

"What?" Jackson's eyes flashed with anger. "Move."

 

Quinn shifted his weight nervously. "Uh, Daniel…"

 

Cameron had a feeling things were going to explode if this situation didn't get under control soon. "Hey, look, no big deal. Let's just let bygones be bygones and kick back over a —"

 

"And it was said that on the day of damnation, the wicked would come forth and spread their lies," the first Prior said.  "But the Ori – kind of heart and pure of spirit – shall come to chastise the sinful and drive the evil from their souls."

 

"You flatter me," Cameron said. "Now, your Doomsday talk ain't going to get you anywhere. I think we've already established that."

 

"The wicked shall be vanquished," the second Prior said to Cameron. His gaze then turned outward and he addressed them all. "Follow the book of Origin and you shall be made anew, cleansed by the fire of the Ori."

 

"But who is one to judge the unclean than the Ori themselves? 'For when the day of judgment is at hand, the Ori shall know the wicked from the devout, the unholy from the holy, and the sinful from the chaste.'" Jackson said suddenly, taking Cameron by surprise as he read from Origin. "Just how clean are you?"

 

The Prior just chuckled. "The wicked twist the truth with their words. Their lies cannot touch the faithful."

 

"Daniel, I don't think it's working," Quinn said.

 

"The people of Kelowna will not submit to the Ori or anyone else, for that matter," Dreylock said, rising to her feet. "I ask for you to take your leave."

 

"The book of Origin shall be heard!" The first Prior held up his copy, showcasing it to them. "The Ori shall come and deliver the believers from the wicked!"

 

"Please, listen to them. They are offering all of you salvation."

 

Cameron turned to Fraiser, somehow not at all surprised that she was on board the Ori train. He wasn't sure how they did it, but if they'd managed to bring her back from the dead, he supposed anything was possible. That thought gave him the heebe jeebies.

 

"Janet," Jackson started as he took a step toward the second Prior and Fraiser. "I don't know what they've told you or what they've done to you, but you have to trust me. Come back with us. I'll show you."

 

The second Prior moved her away from Jackson. But for a moment, Cameron thought he saw some of that legendary spunk. Fraiser pushed away from the Prior, and though she didn't make any move to meet them, the determination was there in her eyes.

 

"Please, Daniel. All of you. The Priors only want to help us."

 

"Janet, they've brainwashed you."

 

"Jackson's right," Cameron said. "I don't know what they've been selling, but believe me it does not come with a money-back guarantee."

 

"The Ori will protect us," Fraiser said.

 

"Yeah, the Aschen said that, too, remember?" There was a flicker of hesitation in Fraiser's eyes. Jackson edged closer. "Janet."

 

The Prior took her arm again, leading her farther from Jackson. She obeyed, despite what Cameron read as genuine concern in her eyes. Feeling a little uneasy, Cameron slid his finger over the trigger on his P-90, keeping a careful eye on Prior Number Two with Fraiser and Prior Number One.

 

He wasn't so liking how cozy Prior Number One was getting with Jackson and Quinn.

 

"The power of the Ori will show you the way," the first one said.

 

Daniel crossed his arms. "I'm thinking no."

 

"The Ori are your friends, Daniel Jackson," said the second.

 

"These would be the friends that sent a plague to Earth."

 

Cameron nodded. "He's got you there."

 

"If you were friends, you would respect us when we say we're not interested," Quinn said.

 

The Prior remained firm. "There are times when the evil runs so deep that only the way of light can illuminate the path to enlightenment."

 

Jackson shook his head. "Yeah, and let me guess. You provide that light."

 

"The Ori provide all. They provide peace and salvation. As they have for Janet Fraiser. As they have for Vala Mal Doran."

 

Cameron stiffed at that comment. He shot a worried look over at Jackson, noting that he'd paled considerably. If the Fraiser issue hadn't been bad enough…

 

"What?" Jackson searched the Prior's face, maybe looking for any spark of humanity that might be left inside. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

 

"To show you the path." His lips curled into a sinister smile. "If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, then the meal was cooked a long time ago."

 

"What does that mean…" Cameron started to ask, but let his voice trail off when he saw the shock and horror enter Jackson's face. He turned to Quinn for help, but he seemed shaken and confused himself. Before Cameron could get a handle on what was happening, he caught Jackson reaching for his sidearm.

 

"Jackson!"

 

The Prior raised his staff and struck the ground hard. The room vibrated; there was a flash of light. Cameron blinked, trying to clear his vision and lost his balance, bumping into the table behind him. He thought he heard a humming coming from…everywhere.

 

He swatted the spots from his eyes, fighting to keep hold of the situation. The first thing that he saw through his limited vision was not what he wanted to see at all. The second Prior was pulling Fraiser out into the hallway.

 

"Hey!" he called. He swore and rubbed his eyes. He struggled to right himself while searching the room.  "A little help?"

 

Dreylock had crashed to the floor while Quinn had stumbled and grabbed onto a chair for support.  Both seemed to be battling whatever had hit him. Damn.

 

Yet Jackson, he remained standing, locked into what Cameron thought was some battle of wills. But when he got a closer look, he realized that wasn't the case. Jackson was literally frozen in place. Every muscle in his body had seized and locked – his head was thrown back, his eyes wide open and unmoving, his hands contorted. Cameron didn't even know if he was breathing.

 

Grunting, Cameron pushed himself off the table and lunged for the Prior and Jackson. Jackson's body was starting to shake, his muscles twitching from the strain. Cameron knew that as long as the Prior held that staff, they were helpless. But even so, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing while Jackson was at the mercy of the Prior's power. Unlocking the safety on his gun, he aimed and fired.

 

The preoccupied Prior hadn't counted on Cameron firing this time. He convulsed as the bullets riddled his body before he collapsed to the ground. Though, before Cameron could do anything to restrain him, the Prior burst into a wall of flame and vanished into thin air.

 

Jackson let out a strangled gasp and crumbled to the ground. Cameron moved to his side, hovering over him to check his breathing. Thankfully, he had a pulse and his breathing was normal. Unfortunately, that was all that seemed to be there. Jackson's eyes were open but nobody was home.

 

Quinn rushed over to the two of them and knelt beside them. "Is he okay?"

 

"I'll take care of Jackson. We lost a Prior and Fraiser."

 

Quinn's eyes widened. "The Stargate."

 

"Go."

 

Jonas Quinn leapt over one of the over turned chairs and was out of the room in a flash. Cameron peeked around the table to see that Dreylock was getting to her feet, but he couldn't worry about her right now.

 

"Jackson," he said, giving him a light tap to the cheek. His whole body was unnaturally limp, his unfocused eyes staring outward to some place Cameron couldn't see. "Jackson! Get up, Jackson!

 

He wasn't going to move, Cameron realized. He set his jaw and tried to clear his head. He couldn't panic. He couldn't loose his cool. He couldn't think of what happened to the Sodan.

 

He pounded his fist angrily on his thigh before he turned to the First Minister. "Get down to the Stargate and call the SGC. We need a medical team here. Now."

 

Chapter 6

 

Sam hadn't finished suiting up when the klaxons started to blare. She swore, quickly snapping the hazmat helmet in place before she attempted to run down the corridor. Movement was tough. But as much as she hated these suits, if they would allow her in the Gateroom, she would deal with the discomfort.

 

Sam reached the door and slid her access card through the card reader. After a snap and a pop, the door opened, granting her access to the inside. Carefully, Sam entered and waited by the side of the medical staff.

 

To say she was nervous was an understatement. She and Barrett hadn't been at the SGC fifteen minutes when they'd received Kelowna's plea for help.

 

She stared at the Stargate, watching the iris withdraw. The Gate sprung to life, flooding the room with its light.

 

Sam waited. She shifted her weight from leg to leg. She twisted her fingers.

 

The medical team that had been sent to Kelowna poured through the event horizon. After they passed through the decontamination field, the group thundered down the ramp on their way to the exit. They streaked into a blur of color as they stormed down the hallways of the SGC toward the infirmary. Sam bounded after them, struggling to push through so she could get a glimpse at the enclosed stretcher.

 

They rounded the corner, heading to one of the large isolation rooms. Outside, Sam could see another group of medical assistants finishing up work on a small decontamination unit outside the door. The problem must be a serious one in order to warrant two units.

 

Her stomach flopped.

 

By now, Sam had managed to squeeze between two of the people that were pushing the stretcher along and slip beside the sealed container. She pressed her gloved hand to the glass.

 

"Daniel."

 

The sight was frightening. Daniel stared upward but there was no recognition in his eyes. No matter how many times she tapped at the plastic or called his name, he didn't seem to hear her. The only small comfort she received was the fact she could see him breathing.

 

"Daniel, it's Sam," she said, her voice muffled from her protective clothing. His whole body remained unmoving, only bobbing occasionally from the sharp, jerky movements of the stretcher as he was carried to the isolation room. "Daniel, can you hear me?"

 

"Get him over here," Sam heard Doctor Lam call. Lam had managed to push her way to the opposite side of the stretcher. She leaned over and studied him quickly before darting away and running to the isolation room's entrance. "Hurry and set him up in here!"

 

Sam found herself dislodged from the stretcher as the medical team rushed him inside the room. From where she stood, she could see that the chamber had already been fitted with medical equipment, even if it was hastily done. Sam followed them inside.

 

"Colonel, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Lam said bluntly. "We have a lot of work to do in determining what is wrong with him and if he is carrying a contagion."

 

Sam raised her hand and opened her mouth to protest, but she didn't. She wanted to say something – anything – useful, but she couldn't find any of the right things to say. A field medic wasn't even close to a medical doctor. She knew she would only take up space, but she wanted to be with Daniel just the same.

 

She found herself fading into the background, watching helplessly as they prepared to open the enclosed stretcher and seal the room. She allowed herself one last look before she finally stepped out into the hall and into the sanitization area.

 

"Before you can leave, ma'am, you'll need to pass through here," one of the technicians told her.

 

She nodded, though Sam wasn't really paying attention. She could only stare at the doors as they were locked in front of her.

 

"Yo, Sam!"

 

Sam turned, relieved to hear Cameron's voice. He had just entered the decontamination area, fully clothed in hazmat protective gear. There was another person with him.

 

"Jonas?" she asked. As he came closer, she confirmed that it was him. "Thank God you're both okay."

 

"Oh, not so sure about that," Cameron said.

 

Sam stiffened. "What?"

 

"We're wearing these suits to protect you, not us," Jonas said.

 

"What happened exactly?" she asked. All she knew at this point was that Daniel and Cameron had encountered a Prior on Kelowna.

 

"You remember that story Teal'c told us about what happened to the Sodan?" Cameron said, his expression unreadable beneath the suit.

 

Cameron really didn't need to elaborate. Sam had been horrified when she had heard what had happened to Volnek and how he had turned against the Sodan. What was worse was that he had long ceased to be himself when it happened.

 

The thought that the same fate could fall upon Daniel or even Cameron or Jonas was too much to take. She couldn't just stand by and let that happen.

 

"Daniel's condition is different. According to Teal'c, Volnek was fine for several days until he became ill. Daniel is unresponsive." That worked for Sam. The difference could be enough.  "Whatever is happening to Daniel is not what happened to the Sodan."

 

"I agree with you. You know I do," Cameron said. "But they're taking whatever precautions they can. That Prior did something to him and whatever it is, I bet you it ain't gonna be pretty."

 

She shook her head and looked away. She refused to believe that. Not after all they had been through all these years. It wasn't fair. Not now.

 

"What about you?" she asked the two of them.

 

"Well, worse case scenario is that we turn into zombies, too," Cameron said with a forced smile. "Or, we could be carrying a new kind of plague."

 

"Or something entirely different," Jonas added.

 

"Great." Sam sighed.

 

"We're being set up in the rooms right beside Doctor Jackson so that they can run some tests," Jonas told her, pointing vaguely ahead. "But we wanted to talk to you first."

 

Sam searched them both, again finding their expressions difficult to read behind the protective plastic.  "What is it?"

 

Cameron's eyes darkened. "We were set up. They knew to go to Kelowna. They knew we were coming. And they seemed hell bent on Jackson."

 

Sam didn't know what to say. The Ori, the Priors, and Daniel had been at odds from the start, having been part of the initial confrontation. While Sam didn't like the idea of the Ori's interest in Daniel, the conflict at least made sense to her. And despite the fact they knew that the Ori had powers that surpassed gimmicks and technological trickery, they also knew that they weren't infallible. The only logical explanation was that the Ori knew of Daniel's connection to Kelowna and figured he would be the one to come to their aid. But how they knew personal details about Daniel's life, she wasn't sure.

 

"There has to be a spy," Sam said. "Someone is feeding the Ori this information."

 

She caught the uneasy look that Jonas and Cameron gave each other. Sam felt that queasy feeling come back. "What's really going on?"

 

"That's not all," Jonas said.

 

"Sam, there's no easy way to say this, but it looks like somehow the Ori have managed to get to Fraiser," Cameron said.

 

Sam frowned. That didn't make sense. "Cassandra?" she asked.

 

Cameron and Jonas exchanged another uneasy look. "No…we're talking about Doctor Fraiser," Jonas said quietly.

 

At first, Sam thought he was joking. But there was no humor in Jonas' voice. When she appealed to Cameron for an explanation, he held that same sad but sympathetic expression.

 

And then, it hit her.

 

She stumbled back, feeling the strength leave her body. Cameron grabbed her by the arm and steadied her, moving her to one of the makeshift walls inside the decontamination unit. Jonas joined him. The two of them held her as her body evened out and returned to normal. Sam took a deep breath.

 

"Janet's alive," she managed to say.

 

Jonas nodded. "She's alive and she seems fine, but she's with the Priors."

 

"She's on a tight leash," Cameron said.  "Jackson said that he saw a Prior bring Vala back to life. It doesn’t stand to reason they couldn't do it to Fraiser, right?"

 

"Janet died in the line of duty two years ago." Sam said. "From what Daniel told us, Vala's resurrection happened immediately after."

 

"But it could happen, right?" Jonas asked. "I mean, these are the Ori. They do have power."

 

Sam nodded. And as much as the thought of Janet being alive brought Sam some hope, the idea that she could be a traitor to the Ori stung more deeply than any wound she'd received in battle.

 

"Jackson thinks she's been brainwashed," Cameron told her, as if reading her mind. "I think he was starting to get to her when the Prior went into destructo-mode."

 

"What happened to her?"

 

Cameron sighed. "A Prior grabbed her and they escaped through the Stargate while the other one did a number on Jackson."

 

That was it, Sam thought, looking down. Even if they had any hope of trying to reach Janet, there was no way they could now. She could be anywhere.

 

"So, we have no way to find her," Sam stated more than asked. Cameron and Jonas exchanged another pointed look.

 

"Not exactly," Jonas said.

 

Sam was tired of this game. "What do you mean?"

 

Cameron smiled and flicked his wrist at Jonas. "We got the coordinates."

 

"So, explain to me again why you think this is a good idea?" Hank asked.

 

Colonel Carter glanced down at the Gate coordinates in her hands before sliding them over to Hank. "If she really is Janet, we have a duty to rescue her. At the very least, she could be giving the Ori valuable information about the SGC and Earth's defenses.  We need to go after her."

 

Hank stared at the coordinates in front of him. This whole scenario stank. He'd encountered situations that were nearly the same during his European tours of duty. Hank doubted the Ori wouldn't do the same.

 

"We don't know that she is really Janet Fraiser, do we?" Hank asked.

 

Carter's gaze wavered. "No, we can't be certain she's the real Doctor Fraiser."

 

"This base isn't new to having imposters come through the Stargate." Hank turned to Barrett. "Or outside the base, for that matter."

 

"No, General," Barrett said. "And I agree that this is a potential risk I am not sure the SGC should take." He glanced at Carter before continuing. "However, the SGC doesn't fall under NID jurisdiction. I'm curious as to why you've allowed me to sit in on this matter."

 

"The official answer to that question is the President's insistence that the SGC and NID work more closely together." Hank smiled. "The truth is that aside from SG-1 and a few individuals like Major Davis and Generals Hammond and O'Neill, you've had the most experience dealing with impersonators and alien incursion. The most recent being the Goa'uld infiltration of Colonel Caldwell on the Daedelus."

 

Barrett considered what he said and nodded, leaning forward in his seat. "And you're looking for another opinion on this situation?"

 

"Or an opinion from someone that isn't emotionally attached," Carter said, her voice even.

 

Hank kept his face neutral. He knew that the attack on Cassandra Fraiser and O'Neill's clone had shaken her, only to be complicated by Doctor Jackson's state. Now, she had to contend with a dead friend as a possible traitor. The whole day was a bizarre one. Most people would have buckled under the pressure long ago. Colonel Carter had a strong character, but he couldn't underestimate a person's emotions in a situation like this.

 

"That's right," Hank finally said. "I know how close you and Janet Fraiser were. I don't doubt your dedication to the program, Colonel. But I also know that many of your decisions in regard to this matter will be influenced by your attachments, whether consciously or subconsciously."

 

Carter and Barrett stared at him.

 

"I was a psychology major back in the day," he said with a knowing smile.

 

"Are you suggesting we do nothing?" Carter asked.

 

Hank didn't miss the challenge in her tone. "Of course not. But we have limited resources as it is. I have to make sure this is something the SGC is capable of undertaking. With a potential Ori attack on the horizon, we've got to make sure we're prepared. I'm sure General Hammond and even General O'Neill would have done the same."

 

Carter nodded, but Hank could tell she wasn't happy. He turned his head to Agent Barrett.

 

He took the cue. "While I agree that sending your resources off-world to locate one person who might not even be Janet Fraiser is a risk that I don't favor…" He paused long enough to give Colonel Carter a pointed look. "I believe that whoever this person is could hold vital information that could aid the President, the NID, and the SGC in dealing with the Ori swiftly and effectively."

 

Hank nodded. "I see. And how would the NID use this information?"

 

"Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty, General," Barrett said. "But I can assure you that the NID would never hurt anyone who is just a pawn in this scheme."

 

Hank nodded again and brought his folded hands to his lips. The whole thing still sounded like a trap to him. But he'd already made his decision before he'd called the meeting.

 

"If we were to entertain the idea of a rescue and extraction, it would be a large and costly project. And I'm not just talking in monetary value."

 

"I understand," Carter said. "But I'm confident enough people will volunteer for the mission."

 

Without a doubt, he thought. But aside from the problem with Fraiser and Doctor Jackson, he still had to deal with the attack this morning. "We'll continue to discuss this later," Hank said. "But right now, we still have to address this issue with Joseph Owens and the Nishta Project. Now, before the Kelownans contacted us, the two of you were telling me about a plot you believe you've uncovered?"

 

"Yes, sir," Carter said. "General, we have reason to believe that whoever is behind the attack today is targeting people who have been in contact with SG-1."

 

"How do you know for sure?" Hank asked.

 

"I don't. But so far, Cassandra, General O'Neill's clone, and Pete Shanahan have been pursued by individuals with the same MO."

 

"Not to mention that these people seem to have top-level clearance," Barrett added.

 

Hank raised his eyebrows at that one. "How do you know?"

 

Carter sighed. "Apparently, Joseph Owens was working under a presidential order after he got involved with the Nishta Project."

 

"If we're to believe Doctor Emerson," Barrett said, glancing at both of them.

 

Hank didn't like this. Ex-NID agents working under presidential orders to formulate mind-control drugs? It just didn't seem like Hayes style. Though the possibility that President Hayes was doing something sneaky and underhanded sounded much more appealing than the alternative.

 

"Any indication we could be talking about the Trust? Ba'al?"

 

"We haven't found any indication of a connection," Barrett said. "Not yet."

 

"Well, get on it. I have a temporary office set up for you here at the SGC so that we can get to the bottom of this." Hank turned to Carter. "You said that you'd found something?"

 

She nodded. "Possibly. Before we left, Doctor Emerson gave me a vial. I've sent it to the labs for study. She's been working on a possible antidote for those that are under the influence of the nishta and I believe this might be the key."

 

"Which also means this Doctor Emerson feels under pressure." Hank sighed. He was beginning to believe this plot went much deeper than he'd thought. "Colonel, I want you—"

 

"General Landry?"

 

Hank turned to see Walter hovering by the door. "Yes?"

 

"I have General O'Neill on the line for you," he said with a sigh.

 

"I'll be right there." He rose to his feet and Colonel Carter stood to match him. "See that Agent Barrett is set and ready to go."

 

"Sir, what about the civilians that have encountered us?" Carter asked. "They could be in danger."

 

Hank frowned. If Carter was right and the NID or Trust was targeting people that knew members of SG-1, then dozens of people's lives were in danger. And to what end? Hank couldn't tease out a fully planned plot at this point, but he knew there was more going on than he'd initially thought.

 

"Let's get them secured," Hank told her as he moved toward his office. "While Agent Barrett works on whatever connections this Owens person has with the government, I want you to reach out to local agencies to round up anyone who has had contact with SG-1 in the last ten years or so."

 

She fidgeted and went to open her mouth, but he shook his head. "Your family will be fine. Do what you need to do to get them to a safe place. And I'll keep you up to speed on Daniel's condition."

 

Hank left them in the briefing room and moved to his phone, noting that Walter had already transferred Jack to his line. He had no idea why Jack kept calling Walter.

 

"Landry," he said, picking up the phone.

 

"Ah, Hank. Just the man I wanted to see…or phone."

 

He couldn't help but smile, despite the circumstance. "Always a pleasure, Jack. What can I do for you?"

 

"Well, it appears that your reports haven't been entirely accurate."

 

"You would know about that, wouldn't you?"

 

"Funny." There was a pause and the silence between them took on a serious tone. "Hank, what the hell is going on over there?

 

Hank sighed. He knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. "You placed me in charge of the SGC because you trust me and because of my impeccable record."

 

"I put you in charge of the SGC because I thought it would be a nice, easy assignment," Jack said.

 

"Who are you kidding?" Hank said with a chuckle. "You're full of it."

 

"Maybe," he said. "But seriously, what's going on there?"

 

"I didn't want to start making generalizations and accusations until I had enough information. But the truth is, Jack, I don't feel comfortable in going into detail over the phone."

 

"I spoke to Carter earlier. She was supposed to set up a secure line so we could discuss matters." Another pause. "Something happened."

 

Hank sighed and sank into his chair. He knew that Colonel Carter had contacted Jack while he had been tied up, but they hadn't had a chance to discuss everything before the call from Kelowna had come through the Stargate.

 

"You're aware of the incident with Pete Shanahan?" Hank asked.

 

"Oh yeah. I agree with Carter on this one. I called George and he's using his connections to get people moved."

 

"Good. I have Colonel Carter working on the same down this end. The two of them should coordinate their efforts." He rubbed his forehead, glancing down at the file on his desk for a brief respite. "Where are they being relocated?"

 

When Jack did nothing but clear his throat, Hank knew exactly what Jack meant. He'd known him long enough.

 

"The upper levels of Cheyenne Mountain have extra space," Jack said.

 

Which was true. But Hank wasn't sure Cheyenne Mountain was the best place for these people.

 

"I know what you're thinking, Hank. But I don't trust sending these people anywhere else. I know you can keep an eye on things."

 

"I'll make the arrangements."

"So, what happened? Or can you not tell me that either?"

 

Hank bowed his head and rubbed his eyes. He must have been silent for longer than he'd thought. He heard a frustrated sigh from Jack.

 

"Whatever. Look, change of plans. Keep your people working on finding me something to present to the IOA and the President. In the meantime, I need you to send Daniel to D.C. I want him to work with Davis on drafting some kind of plea to stall for time. He's great at groveling. Plus, he'll be able to fill me in on everything that's happened in person."

 

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Hank said, lowering his voice. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to break the news to Jack.

 

"What?"

 

"Jack, there was an incident on Kelowna earlier today. Colonel Mitchell and Doctor Jackson encountered a Prior. The Prior did something – we're not sure what. Daniel's been unresponsive since."

 

Hank waited for the silence to clear on the other end. An angry, bitter silence.

 

"What the hell were they doing on Kelowna?"

 

"Jonas Quinn came through the Stargate looking for help. We were hoping to find something for you to bring to the IOA." Hank shook his head. "We believe it was a set up from the start."

 

"Dammit." Jack sighed. "Are Mitchell and Jonas all right?"

 

"They're in quarantine right now. First Minister Dreylock is under surveillance on Langara."

 

"You said this was a set up?" His voice was tense, impatient.

 

Hank exhaled. He didn't even know how to begin. He might as well just get to the heart of the matter.

 

"A woman that looks like Janet Fraiser was with the Priors."

 

A pause. "Excuse me?"

 

"According to Colonel Mitchell and Jonas Quinn, Doctor Fraiser is alive and with the Priors."

 

"Fraiser?" Jack asked. "As in dead Fraiser?"

 

"Or not so dead," Hank said. "We haven't confirmed it was her. I've read your reports. One can never be too careful."

 

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone at the SGC has come back from the dead," Jack muttered. "What are you planning to do about it?"

 

Hank raised his eyebrows over that comment. A test? Hank figured Jack was pushing him, trying to feel out whether he would make the right call.

 

"I'm sending a team to extract her."

 

"Coordinates?"

 

"Jonas Quinn managed to see them before the Prior and Fraiser disappeared through the Stargate."

 

"Sounds like a trap."

 

"I'm sure it is," Hank said. "It's a risk we're willing to take."

 

"Hank," Jack said evenly. "This isn't just any mission. You're going to need someone with experience to carry off a covert search and rescue of this nature."

 

"We've pulled them off in the past." Hank smiled. "Why? Do you have someone in mind?"

 

"I might."

 

He chuckled. "I'm sure you do."

 

Hank could imagine the smirk on Jack's face. "I have a few things I need to handle," Jack said. "Keep me informed."

 

"I will." Hank heard the line click. Sighing, he placed the phone down and glanced ahead, catching Carolyn outside his door. Noting her hesitation, he waved her in and offered her a seat.

 

She remained standing.

 

"What is it, Carolyn?"

 

"I wanted to give you my report on Daniel," she said. "There's been no change in his condition, but we're monitoring him in case he exhibits any of the same symptoms that Volnek did."

 

Hank nodded. No news was good news. "And Mitchell and Mister Quinn?"

 

She sighed and dug her hands deeper into her pockets. "They're still under quarantine. So far, all their tests come back perfectly normal."

"Volnek seemed fine at first, too."

 

"Which I'm aware of," Carolyn said. "I have the situation under control."

 

Hank gave her a half nod. It wasn't that he doubted her. He just didn't trust the Ori.

 

"Keep me informed of their conditions," he said quietly.

 

"You know I will." She frowned as he rose from his desk. "What are you doing?" she asked.

 

"Contacting the Jaffa," Hank said, walking with her out of his office. "Teal'c is going to want to know what's going on."

 

Chapter 7

 

"And this, my brother, is why we as a people cannot afford to bond with others."

 

Teal'c heard Roa'tac's words, but he did not listen to them. To believe in such foolish thoughts would lead the Jaffa to nothing but ruin. If they were to become a great nation, not only did they need to learn to thrive on their own, but also with others.

 

"You seem displeased, Teal'c," Roa'tac said.

 

"To turn our backs on our allies and to withdraw onto ourselves is cowardly," Teal'c said, his voice low. "Is this how you wish for the Jaffa to be remembered?

 

"You see freedom as cowardice?" Roa'tac asked.

 

"Freedom is not isolation," Bra'tac said.

 

"What would you have us do, Teal'c?' Roa'tac smiled, the challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Have the Tau'ri become our new masters? You wish to draw us into another long war with an enemy who is not ours but one of the humans?"

 

"The Ori are a threat to every Jaffa." Teal'c said. He pushed down the anger, struggling to keep his voice controlled.  "This is not a problem for the Tau'ri alone. I do not wish for our hard work to be taken from us. Do you wish this, Roa'tac?"

 

He chuckled. "You know that in my heart I have always wanted freedom for the Jaffa. I find it suspect that after many years of battle against the Goa'uld that you now do not wish us the freedom to live in peace. Your words of passion and choice have turned into caution and uncertainty." He stopped and glared at Teal'c. "You may be no better than Gerak in the power that you seek."

 

"Lies," Teal'c said, standing. He narrowed his eyes, pushing his will to break through Roa'tac's insincere façade. "I seek nothing from the High Council. Nor do I seek it from the Jaffa. All I wish is for the Jaffa to become a great nation, a nation that is deserving of our people."

 

"A nation in your image?" Roa'tac asked. "Or that of the Tau'ri?"

 

"You are a kak'tel!" Bra'tac shouted as he rose to his feet.

 

"Teal'c, Bra'tac, Roa'tac, there is no need for such words," Ta'nauc said. She motioned for them to sit. "We may not agree, but pettiness among ourselves will get us nowhere."

 

"It is unnecessary to question the loyalty of Teal'c," Ka'lel said. "And his Tau'ri friends have proven themselves many a time." With a sigh, her voice quieted and she turned to Teal'c. "But it is true that their ways do not fit with our own. They have provided us with very little technology or resources aside from what they choose and choose alone. How can we work with the Tau'ri as long as they continue to have power over us?"

 

Teal'c found he had no way to answer such a charge. The difference in power had been an issue long argued by the Jaffa and the Tau'ri, one he could not see changing anytime near into the future. During his early days with the Tau'ri, things had appeared simple to Teal'c. He had fought for freedom. He had destroyed his enemy. And when the day came, he would rejoin his people and taste the spoils of their victory; he would taste their freedom. Time had changed Teal'c's perspective. He knew he could no longer afford to view life as simply as he once did. His loyalties were split; he could see the arguments of both sides and agree with them in turn.

 

How was he supposed to proceed?

 

Teal'c sighed to himself. When he looked over to Bra'tac, his spirit fell. Deep in his heart he had come to agree with the rest of the Council.

 

"Perhaps we should discuss other matters," Bra'tac said. His gaze lingered on Teal'c's face briefly before he turned to address the rest of the High Council. "There is the matter of protecting our people from the addictions of kassa…"

 

"Teal'c!"

 

Teal'c turned his head at the sound of Rak'nor's voice. His fellow friend and Jaffa appeared to be ill at ease. Teal'c could see it was not from interrupting the High Council alone.

 

"Is there something that troubles you?" Ka'lel asked.

 

Rak'nor stood a little taller, but the hesitation remained in his eyes. "Teal'c, I have something of importance to tell you."

 

Rak'nor wished to speak privately. Teal'c could read it his posture and in his face. Quietly, Teal'c stood and began to move to meet him.

 

"I believe that whatever news Rak'nor has to share may be shared among us all," Roa'tac said.

 

Teal'c set his jaw, but did not speak. For despite his dislike of Roa'tac, he had learned that speaking out did not always produce the desired result. He glanced back to Bra'tac who nodded in confirmation. Teal'c gave him a near imperceptible bow and stopped, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

"Please continue," he told Rak'nor.

 

Rak'nor glanced at the High Council before he conceded with a nod. "Teal'c, we have just received word from your friends among the Tau'ri. Daniel Jackson has fallen ill."

 

Teal'c remained silent, feeling a tightening in his stomach. He did not want to consider the reasons as to why his friend had fallen ill. However, Teal'c knew that if General Landry felt the need to inform him of Daniel Jackson's condition the situation must be grave indeed.

 

He turned his back to the High Council. "I must depart."

 

"You would value the life of a human over that of your fellow Jaffa?"

 

Teal'c froze, feeling the anger swell inside of him as his jaw trembled. He glanced over his shoulder and pivoted his body so that he could find Roa'tac.

 

Teal'c glared at him, but kept his voice steady. "I have learned to value life for the sake of life. Perhaps you should as well."

 

Teal'c bowed while fighting to hold back the smile that urged to spread across his face. Catching the satisfaction in the eyes of his old master gave him the confidence and the security to let things be. Without another word, Teal'c left the Council chambers and made his way to the Stargate.

 

"Please tell me you're here to let me out."

 

When General Landry didn't respond right away, Cameron knew that wasn't good news. He sighed, leaning against the wall, and stared at the ceiling.

 

Well, Mama always said there would be days like this.

 

"We're just proceeding with caution," Landry said, his voice broken and warped through the intercom. "I can't run the risk of either you or Mister Quinn spreading a contagion through the base and onto the surface."

 

"Or turning all psycho," Cameron mumbled. He punched the button on the intercom system. "So, what's the status on Jackson?"

 

"The same. I'm waiting for additional test results on him from the medical staff."

 

"And me? Quinn?"

 

"Normal," said the disembodied voice. "From what I've been told, there are no abnormalities in your system."

 

"But you can't let us out because of what happened to Volnek," Cameron said with a sigh.

 

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but we don't know what the Prior could have done to any of you."

 

"What are we talking about? Days?" Cameron's face fell. "Weeks?"

 

"As long as it takes."

 

Cameron knocked the back of his head onto the wall. This didn't jive well at all. While they were stuck in here, the Ori could be planning something big. Hell, the Ori could be moving forward on their big ol'plan while he and the rest of SG-1 sat here and did nothing.

 

Cameron frowned. As he turned toward the door, he hit the intercom button again. "General, what's our intel say again about when this Doomsday plot is gonna hit?"

 

"Anywhere between the next few days and the next couple of weeks." There was a pause. "I'll be back."

 

Landry's footsteps faded as he marched down the corridor, leaving Cameron along once again. He shook his head and glared at the concrete walls.

 

Right on the money.

 

Sam kept her pace brisk but even as she walked into the storage areas of upper Cheyenne Mountain. After all the cutbacks, many of the resources related to the SGC and beyond had been scraped, leaving empty vacant lots throughout the complex.

 

She would have never thought they would become useful.

 

"Colonel Samantha Carter," she said, showing her identification to the clerk. She glanced at two airmen that were stationed outside one of the rooms. "It's all right. I've been expecting him."

 

The officer nodded. Pete was escorted out of one of the holding areas and brought before her.

 

Sam exhaled slowly. He didn't look any different. Pete still held the same youthful appearance, the same open and trusting expression. Only the humor had long left his eyes.

 

She couldn't think about that now.

 

Sam waved Pete closer and with a small nod she let the guards know it was okay to release him into her care. She beckoned Pete forward. The two of them started to walk down one of the many corridors that led to additional holding rooms.

 

"So…"

 

"I'm sorry I was abrupt," Sam said. She stole a quick glance in his direction before returning to gaze ahead.

 

"You could have just told me," he said.

 

"I didn't know what to say." Sam sighed. She could refit alien spaceships. She could recalibrate the entire Gate system. She could bypass alien controls. But she couldn't handle…this. "I never know what to say," she said softly.

 

She felt his hand on her back – the ghost of a touch from his fingers. He withdrew and sighed. "So, what's going on? Another hostile alien takeover?" he asked with a chuckle.

 

Sam pursed her lips. "As a matter of fact, yes."

 

Pete blinked. "What?"

 

"I can't get into the specifics with you. You know the classified nature of my work," she said, hiding him down another hallway. "But we've received some information that I felt was important enough to bring you here."

 

"You said I was in danger," Pete said. "What do aliens want with me?"

 

Sam paused in front of one of the rooms and lowered her voice. "Not aliens this time, Pete. But I believe that anyone who has ever had any contact with me or anyone else from SG-1 could be in danger."

 

Pete frowned and shook his head. "Well, if it's not aliens, then who?"

 

"The government."

 

He laughed, causing her indignation to flare. "Sam, I know you deal with some pretty heavy stuff, but conspiracy theories are not your—"

 

"Samantha Carter?"

 

Sam turned at the sound of her name, feeling both surprised and uneasy from the sight of former foe. "Hello, Ms. Gardner."

 

Sarah hadn't changed much from the last time Sam had seen her. But then again, Sam didn't have much to go on. According to Daniel, she'd changed a great deal and no longer held – what he called – her drive to live life to its fullest. Something had been taken from her. And in that respect, Sam could relate to her.

 

"What is going on?" she asked, motioning to Sergeant Siler. "Is there a problem?"

 

"We're taking precautions with anyone who has contact with us over the years." She noticed Pete step closer, hovering protectively by her side. "I can't discuss the matter with you, but I can assure you that you'll be provided for while you're here."

 

"Where's Daniel?" she asked, the ghost of Osiris flickering in her tired eyes. "I'd very much like to see him."

 

Sam forced a small smile, hoping that her discomfort didn't poke through. "I'm sorry but he's busy right now."

 

"Something's happening, isn't it?" she asked. Sam saw the suspicion wash over her face. It turned to concern.

 

"We have everything under control right now." Sam glanced upward, frowning when she saw Colonel Dixon bring a charge of new people around the corner. "Ms. Gardner, I'm sorry I can't talk right now," She pointed to the room in front of them with her hand, and smiled apologetically to both Sarah and Pete. "I'm also sorry that many of you will be sharing some space together. You'll have full furnishings and anything you need."

 

Pete shot a disgusted look over at Sarah before he stared at Sam. "How long are we going to be here?"

 

"I don't know. I really can't answer that." She lowered her voice and stepped closer to Pete. "Please understand that she has been through a lot. Whatever happened before you know isn't her fault. We talked about this." She rubbed his arm. "I can move you as soon as Mark and the family is settled in."

 

"No, it's okay," he said. "They'll just ask me a bunch of questions I can't answer. But they're okay?"

 

She nodded. "Yes."

 

"Good. Look, Sam. All those things I said…"

 

Sam looked away, clearing her throat while fighting to keep her pain sadness at bay. "No, Pete. We – I've changed. I know when I've made a mistake and I know when I've been wrong. Let's just put that behind us."

 

"Yeah." He looked down, pausing before grabbing her hand. He squeezed it gently. "Be careful, okay?"

 

She blinked away the tears. "I will."

 

"Hug for old times sake?" he asked, the hope shining in his eyes.

 

She smiled again and this time it felt real. Without another word to him, she drew him into a hug and released any of the residual pain and longing that she felt. Quietly, she stepped back and let go of the man that helped her find where she belonged.

 

She could never thank him enough for that.

 

"You-you will tell Daniel that I am here?" Sam heard Sarah say.

 

Sam had nearly forgotten Sarah was with them. When she turned around, she realized that Sarah was watching them, her face lined with pain and sympathy, as if she understood.

 

"When Daniel is available, I'll let him know," she promised. "But now, I'm sorry that I have to go."

 

Her grimace barely made it into a smile before she walked away from the two of them. Behind her, she could hear some airmen setting them up in their room. Sam wiped her eyes and breathed out, summoning her inner strength as she met Dixon.

 

"Colonel," she said. She nudged her chin to the list in his hands. "Are these our people?"

 

"Yup. They're piling up like hotcakes." He glared at her, but there was a playful spark in his eyes. "I didn't realize I'd be getting babysitting duty."

 

"You should be a pro," she said, grinning. When he rolled his eyes, she chuckled and patted his back. But when a couple of names shot out to her on the list, her attitude changed and she became serious again. "Is your family all right?"

 

"There've already been relocated here. Most of the major base personnel with family have been taken care of first." He flipped the page and sighed. "This is why I hate politics. Nothing but dirty, lying cheats."

 

"At least in the military you know your chain of command."

 

"Damn straight, you do." He stopped and tapped at the page. "I got those reporter friends of yours isolated in a different compartment. Little Miss Yippie keeps asking for you while that Bregman guy is demanding to see Doctor Jackson."

 

Sam shook her head. That was the last thing they needed right now. "They can deal with it," she said. "Anyone else?"

 

"How about a whole lot of else? I've got people bringing in a Doctor Raynor from Chicago. Some young guy named Loren. Some homeless man asking if this has anything to do with Ma'chello. Oh, and there are some ladies asking for Teal'c." He paused, sending her a sly smirk. "What's Teal'c got with Earth gals, anyway?"

 

Sam chuckled. "He's Teal'c."

 

She could see them from where she stood. She remembered Krista, the frightened neighbor that had lived beside Teal'c. She also recognized a variety of other people she had seen in the apartment building when they had helped move Teal'c into his own place. One of the young women she didn't recognize. She was a teenager, possibly Cassie's age. In fact, she looked a lot like Cassie. Sam figured it had to be that girl Ally whom Teal'c had adored so much.

 

"Just how many people are we bringing in here?" Dixon asked. "Everyone ever?"

 

Sam shook her head. "No. Just people that we have reason to believe could be used against us or could be potential targets."

 

"All right. I'll get these people processed." He shoved the list under his arm and looked over to the group of people being signed into the facility.

 

Sam watched him go, vaguely interested as the people filed into the corridors of the SGC. She felt detached, as if it were all some dream. She supposed she was just worried about her friends.

 

"Colonel Carter!"

 

Sam turned, surprised to find Teal'c walking toward her. "I thought you—"

 

"I have returned from Dakara," he stated. "What of Daniel Jackson?"

 

"Still nothing," she said. Sighing, Sam ran her fingers through her hair. "Weren't you in the middle of a Council meeting?"

 

"I was, but it is of little importance," he said quietly. Sam noticed his gaze shift to somewhere behind her. "What has happened?"

 

"General O'Neill and General Landry have ordered anyone who has had prior contact with SG-1 to be taken in protective custody," she said. She paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "We think there is a nishta threat."

 

Sam remained quiet, gauging Teal'c's reaction. His eyes darkened; his jaw stiffened.

 

"I know," she said. "If I had know something like this would have happened, I would never have agreed to help with the project. I'm sorry."

 

"It is not you're doing," he said coolly.

 

"I know, but—"

 

"Murray!

 

Teal'c dipped his head and looked away. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have missed the near imperceptible roll of Teal'c's eyes.

 

"Welcome, Martin Lloyd," Teal'c said as the small alien came rushing to his side.

 

"What's going on? Are we in trouble? Is it the Goa'uld? Where's Colonel O'Neill?"

 

Sam blocked out Martin's annoying barrage of questions, her gaze falling back to where Pete had been situated. He'd been in danger. They weren't even together anymore and he'd still fallen prey to the curse that seemed to follow her around.

 

She shook her head. She couldn't think like that.

 

"Colonel?" Major Hadden asked, walking to join her. "Where do you want us to send him?"  He pointed to Martin.

 

"Are there any available rooms left?" she asked.

 

"We're staying here?" Martin asked as he adjusted his glasses. "What-what if something happens and there's a foothold situation and—"

 

"Perhaps he can share a room with O'Neill," Teal'c said. He arched his eyebrow, his eyes gleaming.

 

Sam bit her lip, struggling to hide the grin that threatened to break across her face. Locking General O'Neill's clone alone with Martin Lloyd was a recipe for disaster. She tried not to feel too guilty over how much she enjoyed the idea.

 

"No, Teal'c. I think we can arrange other accommodations." She nodded to Hadden. "Thank you, Major."

 

Hadden stepped forward and guided Martin away from Sam and Teal'c. Martin jerked with surprise before he reached out toward Teal'c. "Wait! Murray!"

 

Sam and Teal'c walked down the corridor, expanding the distance between the processing area and themselves. Sam took the opportunity to pull Teal'c closer, rubbing his arm as she lowered her voice. "Something else is bothering you," she said softly.

 

"It is not important." Teal'c refused to make eye contact with her. Sam hated that even after all this time Teal'c still had a hard time opening up to them. "Tell me the status of Colonel Mitchell and Jonas Quinn," he said.

 

Sam sighed. "They're in quarantine. We're taking every precaution on account of what happened to Volnek."

 

"General Landry suspects that the Prior may have changed them," Teal'c said, his voice dipping.

 

Sam tried to offer her most supportive smile. "We don't have any evidence that there is anything wrong with them. It's just a precaution."

 

"Colonel, Teal'c. I'm glad I found you."

 

Sam and Teal'c stopped talking, waiting for General Landry to continue as he approached them.

 

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

 

"I want both of your opinions on our current situation. Come with me to the infirmary. Doctor Lam is waiting for us."

 

"Have you discovered something of importance?" Teal'c asked. They began to walk with Landry toward the elevator.

 

General Landry nodded. "We might have." Landry slid his card through the reader. "How go your efforts with coordinating the relocation of the civilians?"

 

"I've spoken to General Hammond. Between our efforts with Agent Barrett and the NID and General Hammond's work in D.C., we have everything under control." Sam entered the elevator along with Teal'c and Landry, releasing some built in tension as she exhaled. At least some things were moving along smoothly. "Have you spoken to General O'Neill?" she asked.

 

"He's been briefed on the situation and I'm sure he's being kept up to date on matters by Hammond." For a moment, Landry seemed reflective, even sad. "He had something to take care of first." He cleared his throat as the elevator opened. "Follow me."

 

He knocked twice.

 

When she answered the door, the pure shock in her face hurt him, but it wasn't like he'd been expecting anything more. Not after all this time.

 

"Jack?" Sara asked.

 

Jack removed his service cap and held it close to the jacket of his uniform. "There's a problem. I need you to come with me."

 

She stared at him. It didn't take long for the shock to turn into anger. She narrowed her eyes and took a step back. "I don't see you in years and you just show up on my doorstep and expect me to listen to you?"

 

Jack sighed inwardly, running his fingers over the rim of his cap. She had no right to give a damn, but it irritated him anyway. Once, her spark and zest had made him feel alive. Now, it just left him cold.

 

"Whatever problem you have you can deal with it yourself," she said, grabbing the door to slam it. Jack intervened, hitting his hand against the wood, and braced himself.

 

"Look, Sara," he said. "I can't tell you what is happening, but it's important that you listen to me." He brought his gaze over her head, searching the house. "Are your parents home?"

 

She sighed. "Yes. Why?"

 

"I need all of you to grab your things and come with me." He tore off his sunglasses, using them as a pointer to the vehicle that was parked alongside the street. "We're going to transport you to a secure facility where you'll be protected."

 

"Protected?" She snorted. "What is this about?"

 

"It's classified."

 

"Damn you and your classified work!" She pushed against the door, but he kept his grip firm. "Jack, I swear I will call the cops. I don't care who you are."

 

"Go ahead. Call them. They won't do anything." He stepped closer, using his weight to keep the door ajar. "This is big," he said, softening his voice.

 

The change in tone was enough to quiet her. She let go of the door, taking a tentative step forward. "Does-does this have something to do with what happened…then?"

 

Jack licked his lips, thoughtful, but didn't break eye contact. It wasn't like he could lie to her. He never could. It never worked.

 

"Something along those lines," he said.

 

She looked away and brought her arms up to hug herself. It was like a knife to the gut. No matter how years had passed, it still tore at him to see her in any kind of pain.

 

"I know that I haven't—"

 

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Let's not talk about that. Not now." She dropped her arms to her sides, standing a little taller as she gazed intently at him. "What do you need?"

 

Jack nodded, placing his cap back on his head. He slid on his glasses. "Pack anything essential. We have to leave as soon as possible."

 

Carolyn looked up to see her father bring Colonel Carter and Teal'c into the observation room above Daniel's isolation chamber. She leaned back in her chair and waited for them to get situated.

 

"I was just telling Colonel Carter and Teal'c that you'd received all the results back on the tests you've run," Landry said.

 

"That's right," she said, pulling out her medical charts. "And as I said before, there are no anomalies in Jonas Quinn, Colonel Mitchell, or Doctor Jackson."

 

"He's catatonic," Sam said, pointing to Daniel.

 

"Obviously," Carolyn said. "But, I've compared his vitals to the information Haikon gave us after Volnek tore up their village and Daniel doesn't have any signs, symptoms, or anything remotely close to what happened to Volnek. I checked his results against all of the data we have on the Ori Plague and other similar diseases. He isn't carrying any of the contagions we've encountered through the Priors. None of them are."

 

"How can we know for sure?" Landry asked.

 

"Volnek appeared normal when he returned to his village," Teal'c added. "He did not fall ill until many days later."

 

Carolyn nodded. She's already taken that into account. "As you know, after Colonel Mitchell and Teal'c returned from the Sodan, we had a medical team go back to the planet and take tissues samples." She withdrew a chart and held it up in front of her father. "We managed to find some of Volnek's remains. I've run a comparison between his samples, and those of Daniel, Cameron, and Jonas." She shrugged. "Nothing."

 

Landry stared at the chart before narrowing his eyes. "Then what is going on here?"

 

"I wish I knew," Carolyn said. "I've worked on a lot of cases, but I've never seen one like this."

 

"I have," Sam said. She stepped a little closer to Carolyn, glancing once at her charts before she focused her attention on Daniel's immobile body. "Twice."

 

Teal'c cocked his head. "O'Neill?"

 

Sam nodded. "General O'Neill entered a catatonic state twice. Both times resulted from contact with an Ancient repository device."

 

"Yes, I already thought of that," Carolyn said with a sigh. "Daniel isn't showing any signs of increased brain activity. Besides, he hasn't come in contact with any Ancient devices." She tossed her chart back onto the table in front of her. "I don't know what to tell you. There's nothing wrong with them."

 

Sam shifted her weight to her left leg, her gaze falling back to the charts. Carolyn had to fight the protective urge to grab the file.

 

"Why don't I take a look?" Sam asked, extending her hand. "Some of my past experiences could shed some light—"

 

"I know what I'm doing, Colonel."

 

Sam blinked, momentarily bewildered, but Carolyn knew she would recover quickly. Sam's eyes cooled, and she withdrew her hand. "I wasn't questioning your ability. I was merely—"

 

Landry cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Medical results aside, I'm more concerned about the timing of this incident."

 

"Is this why you called us here?" Teal'c asked, facing Landry.

 

Landry gave a short nod. "Colonel Mitchell is concerned that this Ori attack could be a way to distract us."

 

"Distract us from what?" Carolyn asked.

 

"All this Doomsday talk," Landry said as he glanced down into the isolation room. "I'm inclined to agree with him, based on the medical results." He refocused on Carolyn, Sam, and Teal'c. "Unless you could give me a reason not to."

 

Carolyn realized the implications of his statement. "You want to release Colonel Mitchell and Jonas Quinn."

 

"If there is nothing wrong with them, I need them working on this problem."

 

Carolyn shook her head. "I don't think—"

 

"What?"

 

She froze, turning her head to the isolation room below. Daniel had lifted his head – as far as he could through the restraints – and was wearing a puzzled expression as he glanced around the room. He pushed again and winced, before he become more agitated.

 

"Hello?" he called. He jerked his arms. "Hello? I know you're there."

 

"Daniel," Sam said aloud, the relief flooding her voice. She smiled and reached for the comm, only to be stopped by Teal'c. Carolyn frowned along with Sam as they eyed Teal'c carefully.

 

"Hello!" he said, this time shouting. "Sam? Teal'c? Anyone?"

 

"We should proceed with caution," Teal'c warned.

 

"Agreed," Landry said. "I want the three of you to suit up and get down there to ask him questions."

 

"Yes, sir." Sam and Teal'c proceeded out of the observation room. Carolyn went to follow them, but stopped when Landry grabbed her wrist.

 

"Carolyn," he said, his voice soft. She thought maybe even nervous. "Be careful."

 

"You know I will." She offered him a subdued smile before she walked out of the room to suit up with the others. Maybe now they could finally get some answers.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Sam followed Teal'c and Doctor Lam into the isolation room, closing the door behind her. From where she stood, she could see the confusion and suspicion in Daniel's eyes as he evaluated their hazmat suits. She tried to tell herself that what she was seeing was bewilderment caused by fear and disorientation, though she had to entertain the idea that maybe something had changed inside of him. The consequences of their mission weren't something Sam was prepared to deal with right now. Pushing those thoughts aside, she took a deep breath and walked over to meet Teal'c and Lam by Daniel's bedside.

 

"What's going on?" Daniel asked, his forehead dipping as he frowned.

 

"Daniel…" Sam started to say, but she wasn't really sure how to approach the topic.

 

"There was an incident. I need you to tell me how you're feeling," Lam said.

 

"Incident?" His frown only deepened as he moved his gaze down to his right hand. He flexed his fingers slowly before he returned his attention to their hazmat suits. "What?"

 

Sam exchanged an uneasy look with Teal'c. "You were on Kelowna. Do you remember?"

 

Again, his gaze darted to his right hand while the confusion embedded in the wrinkles on his face only intensified. Oh, she thought, suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable. She had a feeling she knew what he was thinking.

 

"Why am I restrained?" he asked instead, jerking his wrists against the restraints.

 

"Just to be safe," Lam replied, flipping a page on her chart. She glanced over at the equipment that was reading Daniel's vitals before she took a step toward him. "Are you in pain? Do you feel like yourself?"

 

"I feel like you're dodging my questions on purpose," he muttered, pulling his wrists harder. He grunted as he struggled against the restraints before he stopped and sighed with frustration. "What the hell is going on?"

 

"That is what we wish to ascertain," Teal'c said. "It is important for you to remember what happened on Kelowna."

 

He sighed again, thumping his head down on the pillow under him. Daniel closed his eyes. "I remember. I was sort of hoping it was all a dream."

 

Part of Sam wished the same. Carefully, she reached over to touch his hand, even if the glove prevented any true physical contact. The support was all that mattered.

 

"Tell us what happened to you," Lam said.

 

"There were Priors," he said, his brow knotting as he thought. "I remember a light and then I felt a pop." He shifted uncomfortably and opened his eyes. "Why am I restrained?" he asked again, his voice low.

 

Sam saw the suspicion re-enter his face as he yanked against the leather straps. Angry, he hit his fists against the gurney.

 

"It's just a precaution," Sam said.

 

He glared at her. "From what?" He searched the three of them; Sam figured he was looking for answers. Suddenly, he paled and turned away. With a sigh, he stared at the ceiling.

 

Sam empathized with him. But she was more concerned with any unknown effects this Prior could have caused.

 

After a long pause, he finally spoke, this time his voice steadier, even concerned. "Are Mitchell and Jonas okay?"

 

"They will be fine," Teal'c said. "As will you."

 

Sam hoped Teal'c was right. Seeing Daniel either locked up or hooked up to a dozen medical devices brought back memories Sam didn't want to revisit.

 

"Nothing feels out of the ordinary?" Lam asked.

 

He shook his head. "No, I don't feel any different. I feel…normal." He seemed to linger on that word, his mind off somewhere else, before he frowned again and turned to Sam. "Wait…Janet. Where's Janet?"

 

Sam felt her stomach bottom out. This wasn't exactly the kind of conversation she had wanted to have with him.

 

"Colonel Mitchell has informed us that a Prior accompanied Doctor Fraiser through the Stargate," Teal'c said, sparing Sam the responsibility of revealing the news to him.

 

"What?" Daniel asked. The anger had returned. "And they didn't go after them?"

 

"Daniel, you were catatonic," Sam said. "Colonel Mitchell had a duty to see to your well-being. As soon as they were able, Jonas went after the Prior."

 

"He should have gone after her," Daniel said bitterly. "Now, we won't find her."

 

Sam stared at him, but said nothing. While she wanted to tell Daniel that they had the coordinates to the planet where Janet had gone, something was holding her back. She couldn't explain it. He had every right to be moody, but still…something about Daniel was making her uneasy.

 

"What…aren't you telling me?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

Sam exchanged another uneasy look with Teal'c, and then Lam, before Teal'c finally spoke. "Jonas Quinn possesses the coordinates."

 

Daniel's mouth dropped open.

 

"We're planning to send a team through to extract her," Sam said at last.

 

"Then, I have to go with you. I need to get out of here."

 

"No, you're not," Lam said, her voice firm. "You'll be staying right here until I verify that you are 'normal' after another series of tests."

 

"You can't do that," Daniel protested.

 

"Yes, I can."

 

Daniel muttered under his breath and slammed his fists down again. For a moment, Sam thought he was going to slip into another moody fit, but instead he turned to her, his eyes filled with hope.

 

"Sam, you have to let me go," he said, pleading with her. "I was with her when she died. I need to know what is going on."

 

"I know. And I want you with us, too." Sam sighed. "But it's not up to me. We're preparing to send a MALP and a UAV to the planet based on Jonas' coordinates. If you're given a clean bill of health by the time the team is assembled, I can't see why you wouldn't be able to come with us."

 

It was a long shot. Sam knew it was. But they couldn't let Daniel or Cameron or even Jonas go through the Stargate if they had been compromised.

 

"Then, let's get the tests completed," Daniel said. He slumped against the gurney in resignation. "The sooner, the better."

 

"I'll need your full cooperation," Lam told him.

 

Daniel nodded. "I know."

 

"Teal'c and I are going to start preparing the MALP and UAV for deployment." She squeezed Daniel's hand. "We'll let you know if anything changes. I promise."

 

For the first time since they entered the room, Daniel smiled. It was a weak smile, but enough to soften some of the doubts Sam was having.

 

"Thank you," he said.

 

She nodded. "Take care of yourself."

 

Sam left him in Lam's care as she and Teal'c exited the isolation room and entered the decontamination area. Within minutes, they were cleared and on their way back to the control room. Teal'c spoke once they were alone.

 

"It is not wise to provide promises we may not be able to keep," Teal'c said, eyeing her cautiously.

 

"Do you think there is really something wrong with him?"

 

"I have seen what happened to Volnek with my own eyes." He glanced away as they walked, refusing to meet her gaze. "I do not wish the same fate for Daniel Jackson or Colonel Mitchell and Jonas Quinn."

 

"Neither do I," she said, reaching out to stroke his arm supportively. "Let's hope for the best."

 

"So, what's the story, morning glory?" All eyes were on Cameron as he clapped his hands and entered the control room.

 

"Good of you to join us, Colonel. Mister Quinn," Landry said. "We're just about to send out a MALP to the planet based on the coordinates you provided."

 

Quinn joined Cameron by Harriman's station, watching as the MALP scooted up the ramp and into the event horizon. With a loud slurp sound, the machine vanished. Cameron watched with a smile. Damn, that never got old.

 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked him and then Quinn. She was seated in Harriman's usual place, Teal'c standing like a statue by her side.

 

"Clean bill of health," Cameron said, patting his chest. "I'm perfectly normal."

 

Cameron frowned. He could have sworn he'd heard a snort from Teal'c, but when he looked at the guy, he was as stoic as ever.

 

"Doctor Lam gave us the all clear," Quinn said. His attention was quickly diverted to the screen. "What's that?"

 

"Sir, we're receiving visual." Sam adjusted the frequency and fine-tuned the picture, revealing a series of fuzzy looking columns. "I'm going to try to see if I can focus the camera on the MALP for a better view."

 

Landry nodded, hovering in the background as Sam did her thing. They waited, noting the fluctuations in the picture as it faded in and out, all the while the little MALP chugging like the little engine that could. Once it stumbled over a bump here and there, it would stop, sputter, and then start again.

 

Finally, the MALP stopped, but the picture came through loud and clear.

 

"It appears to be a road," Teal'c said. "There are columns on either side of the pathway."

 

"And it looks like the MALP hit one of those columns," Cameron added, glancing over to Sam as she struggled with the controls. "I don't think that baby is moving."

 

"It's stuck," Sam said, confirming Cameron's fears. She tilted her head back and to the side, far enough for her gaze to find Landry. "General, I'm recommending we go ahead with a UAV aerial survey. If Janet and the Prior are still on the planet, it's possible that they are far enough out of range for the MALP to locate."

 

"Go ahead and set it up," Landry said, talking over the sound of the Gate as the event horizon fizzled and snapped off. "Contact me as soon as you have anything. I'm going to go check in with Agent Barrett and see if General Hammond or General O'Neill have anything new to tell us."

 

Landry headed up the stairs as Walter Harriman reappeared, holding something he assumed was for Sam. He gave it to her and they exchanged some Gate talk before Sam started to settle down and get to work on getting the UAV set up.

 

Cameron watched and waited silently, his arms crossed, as Sergeant Siler and a team of engineers brought in the UAV and started to prepare for launch. The last time he got involved and chatted away during a project much like this one Sam had glared at him for days. He was beginning to know his place.

 

Cameron had noted that Quinn was quiet, but that man's eyes never stopped moving. He was drinking in the sights like cheap beer, but without all the nasty side effects.  As far as Cameron could tell, every person, every thing, every detail didn’t get past Quinn's watchful gaze.

 

Teal'c remained silent, but then again Teal'c tended to be that way. But from what Jackson had told him, this was as chatty as Teal'c had ever been. Cameron couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd been like when he was quiet.

 

The UAV was in place and everything seemed to be a go. Cameron heard Sam bark a few orders to some technicians down below, all of whom just scowled and went about their work. He had to really fight the urge to say something.

 

He didn't have to since the phone rang.

 

Surprised, Cameron turned his head to follow the sound of the ringing phone, watching as Chief Sergeant Harriman moved to grab it. In the span of five seconds, Harriman went from calm and controlled to appearing downright angry.

 

"Why does he keep calling me?" Cameron heard Harriman ask aloud. Sighing, he turned away from the phone and glared at Sam. "Colonel, I have O'Neill on the line for you. The…other one."

 

Sam swiveled in her seat, her fingers remaining on the controls as she looked over at the phone. She might be a multitasker, Cameron thought, but she wasn't Wonder Woman.

 

"I'll take it," Cameron said, walking over to Harriman. Walter thrust the phone into Cameron's hands and stalked away, muttering under his breath. Cameron just shrugged before he brought the phone to his ears. "This is Mitchell."

 

"You're not Carter. Let me speak to Carter."

 

Cameron held his tongue and bit back any quip about being the leader of SG-1, settling for some run of the mill speech instead. "Thank you for your help. It's been great."

 

"No, you're not going to brush me off that easily," the young man said. "I used to head up SG-1. I know what needs to be done. I know that something big is happening, and I know that you need my help."

 

"We've got everything under control. The real General O'Neill in Washington is coordinating efforts..." His voice trailed off when he noticed Sam shaking her head emphatically.

 

Damn, he'd said the wrong thing, hadn't he?

 

"I am the real deal, pal," the clone said, his voice hard. "Where's Daniel? He'll listen to me."

 

Jackson. Damn. He wasn't going to get into that one. Cameron wasn't even sure if he could trust the clone at this point. "He's busy," Cameron replied simply.

 

"Not good enough. If it wasn't for me, you--"

 

Cameron jerked, surprised as Teal'c grabbed the phone from his hands. "O'Neill," he stated evenly. "Your services are no longer required. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.

 

Sam and Cameron exchanged an uneasy look, before Cameron broke into a grin.

 

"Simple, short, and sweet. I like that," Cameron said to Teal'c, hoping to get some kind of affirmation from the Jaffa.

 

Teal'c stared at him.

 

Cameron cleared his throat. Breaking Teal'c was going to be harder than he'd thought. "So," he said, changing the subject. He made his way back to Sam and Quinn, gazing down at the UAV. "This ready to go?"

 

"We're set to launch." Sam flipped on the switch on the control panel and began the dialing sequence. "Everyone clear the Gateroom."

 

The rest of them waited as the personnel cleared out. After the seventh chevron locked and the not-water flooded through the center to form the event horizon, the UAV sputtered and sprung to life, zipping through the Stargate. And it was away.

 

"Receiving telemetry. I'm getting a picture." Sam shifted to allow Quinn and himself a better view.

 

"Wow," Quinn said.

 

"You're the king of understatement," Cameron muttered, staring at the picture. Wow just didn't cover it. The UAV soared over a palace – not some cheesy B movie kind, either. Just based on the picture feedback alone, it looked like it had been made from some high quality stone and glistened in the sunlight that washed over the planet. Most of the structures had a rounded or oval quality to them, and Cameron didn't miss the towers that loomed in the background. This place looked like it had all the bells and whistles.

 

"Can you get a closer look?" Quinn asked. "I thought I saw some writing."

 

Sam switched the UAV to manual, piloting the device closer to one of the pillars that lined the roadway heading to the palace. Sure enough, Cameron caught some chicken scratch scribbled onto the columns.

 

"Can you read it?" Cameron asked him.

 

Quinn shook his head. "No, but it's definitely Ancient."

 

Ancient. Well, hot damn. They had a winner.

 

"It would appear the Ori have been here for some time," Teal'c said.

 

"Maybe," Sam said. "But it could very well be an Ancient outpost, not unlike the one we have at Antarctica."

 

"Except ours isn't a pleasure palace, right?" Cameron shook his head. As much as he'd like to believe Sam's more optimistic view, it just didn't fit. The thought that the Ori could have some secret base in their galaxy left him cold. "Either way, if the Priors gated there, they have a reason for it. I'm betting it's no coincidence they went somewhere with Ancient language."

 

Sam sighed and nodded. "We're going to need General Landry. He's going to want to take a look at this."

 

Chapter 9

 

"It's a palace," Hank said, staring at the photos Colonel Carter had enlarged from the UAV's readouts. They were spread out in haphazard fashion over the briefing room table.

 

"Yes, though it's not as large as we'd first assessed," Carter said. "We managed to do a full aerial survey of the palace before breaking off and bringing the UAV back through the Stargate."

 

"I can see that," Hank mumbled, glossing over the photos again. "And we were undetected?"

 

"If they knew we were there, they didn't seem to give a damn," Mitchell said.

 

"Or they knew you were there and did this on purpose." Hank was more inclined to agree with the latter. There was no mistaking the Ori gave Priors special powers. While they weren't omniscient, they could get damn close to it. Hank hated this scenario more and more with each new detail he was given.

 

He tapped at one particular picture. "I've seen this before."

 

"That's Ancient, sir," Jonas Quinn said. "Whoever built these structures obviously was fluent in the language."

 

"So, are we talking Ancients or Ori?" Hank asked.

 

"We are not certain," Teal'c replied.

 

"Oh?" Hank didn't need this right now.

 

"General, we've managed to match the coordinates from Jonas with a Gate address in our database. It seems as if one of the planets we were never able to access before is now available," Sam told him.

 

Hank glanced down at the pictures. Miraculously, a planet they couldn't get a lock on suddenly became available just when they needed it. It stunk.

 

"What planet is this?"

 

"One of the addresses that General O'Neill entered into our database after he encountered the Ancient repository the first time," Sam said. "We tried to connect but the chevrons wouldn't lock."

 

"So, it's possible that this was a planet of the Ancients given their association with the Asgard," Jonas said.

 

"'Was' is the operative word." Something had happened between the time SG-1 had attempted to Gate to the planet and now. That much was obvious. "Ancients. Ori. It doesn't matter," Hank said, walking away from the table to gaze down at the Stargate below. "I think it's fairly clear this is a trap."

 

"Does this mean you're scrapping the mission?" Mitchell asked.

 

To be honest, Hank wasn't sure. While he wanted to get to the bottom of this Janet Fraiser imposter – if she was one – and find out what kind of plan the Ori could be plotting, he couldn't risk the lives of the men and women that were under his command. He especially couldn't run that risk when all the information that he had indicated a major ambush in the works. In this case, the negatives far outweighed the positives.

 

"General Landry?"

 

Hank turned toward the unfamiliar voice. A soldier stood in the doorway with a young man in tow.

 

Damn it all. He just didn't take no for an answer.

 

"Continue evaluating the pictures and the data from the MALP," Hank told them as he walked toward his office. He signaled for the airman and the youth to meet him at the other entrance. "I have something to take care of first."

 

Hank left SG-1 and Jonas Quinn to mull over the photos as he entered his office. Not bothering to take a seat, he stood in front of his desk, waiting for the airman to come inside.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Leave him," Hank told the soldier. After the airman had left, Hank sighed. "Jack, you just don't give up."

 

"You're keeping me locked up without any idea of what is happening," Jack said. "You can't leave me in the dark."

 

"You're not part of the military or this command," Hank said, moving to study some of the decorations he had on his wall. "I know you might not like that, but I can't give you the clearance you want."

 

"It's not about clearance." Jack leaned against the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's about experience. You can't just expect me to sit around and do nothing when you're in the middle of a crisis." He stared through the transparent star chart that separated Hank's office from the briefing room, his gaze lingering on the remnants of SG-1. "The SGC is crawling with people we've met in the past. They're here for a reason, Hank."

 

Hank was about to question Jack how he knew about the civilians on base, but he thought better of it. This kid had the mind of Jack O'Neill and knew this base inside out. That fact could be their greatest asset or their biggest problem.

 

"This thing with me and Cassandra…it doesn't stop there, does it?" Jack asked. "Whatever is going down, it's big."

 

Big didn't even begin to cover the situation. Hank was in over his head with problems, without the necessary staff to handle everything. He was beginning to feel the budget cuts, more so now than ever before. Now that the international community was buckling on them…

 

"Bringing these people here was a bad idea, Hank," Jack said, lowering his voice. "Whose bright idea was this anyway?"

 

"Mine."

 

Both turned their attention to the doorway. Jack squeezed past the clone and tossed his service cap on one of Landry's empty seats.

 

"Great," the clone said. "Shouldn't you be in Washington?"

 

"Obviously, I'm here on business," the real Jack muttered. "And what's wrong with my idea? You of all people should understand."

 

"I do understand," the clone said. "You think that it's a good idea to keep everyone protected and secure, the best place being the SGC. But we both know that if there are spies or if any one of our old allies have been compromised, now everyone is right where they want them."

 

"Do you really think I hadn't already thought of that? Sure, it's a risk, but it might also force any spies into the open." Jack frowned. "How did you find out about the nishta?"

 

The younger Jack grinned. "I didn't. But you just gave me the last bit of info that I couldn't get out of Daniel."

 

Hank sighed. This was just wonderful. "I'm glad the two of you are hitting it off so well, but I have a base to run."

 

"Nishta?" the clone asked. "The guys that nabbed me this morning are in with nishta? How the hell did they get that stuff?"

 

"Not your concern," Jack replied.

 

"Damn well my concern. They tried to kidnap me."

 

"It's like watching an internal tennis match," Hank muttered to himself. He shook his head. "Jack, I understand your desire to help, but the details are classified," he said while holding up his hand to silence the older version. "You'll be escorted back to your room."

 

"The hell I will." He crossed his arms and remained in the doorway. "I'm not blind. I know there's something bigger than the nishta problem. What is it? The Goa'uld? The Aschen? What?"

 

"The answers are no, no, and you're not going to know," Jack said with a scowl.

 

"Daniel must have talked to you by now," the young Jack said. "I can offer a tactical advantage and strategic information."

 

"I'm here," Jack said.

 

"And you're old."

 

"Jack and Jack," Hank said, his voice strained. Just because he'd known Jack for a long time didn't mean the man couldn't push his buttons. He focused on the younger man. "I will take your request under advisement. For now, I suggest you return to your room. I'll contact you shortly." Hank pressed the comm and requested one of the airmen stationed nearby to join him in his office. "As for you," he said turning to the older Jack, "did you get everything taken care of?"

 

"Yeah," Jack answered, his voice quiet. "I tied up some loose ends."

 

Hank nodded, understanding.  He took a quick glance into the briefing room, not at all surprised to find its occupants watching every last detail of what was happening in his office.

 

"Jack," he said, "Why don't you get settled in the briefing room? Seems to me there are some people inside just itching to see you." He chuckled. "And don't worry about all the formalities."

 

Jack grabbed his cap and headed for the briefing room entrance, pausing long enough to offer Hank a smirk and a shrug. "I'm your boss, remember? I'll do what I damn well please. I'm the man."

 

Hank just sighed and shook his head, watching as Jack entered the briefing room. Immediately, his old friends and teammates greeted him, and he received a whole-hearted salute from Colonel Mitchell. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged; Hank could even hear the excited chatter from Colonel Carter as she brought Jack up to speed on the problem. He couldn't be prouder to see old friends catch up.

 

But his light mood shifted when he glanced over to his right. Jack, the young clone, remained quiet, leaning against the door with his hands deep into his pockets. He watched the exchange through narrowed eyes, his face dark and tight.

 

Hank studied him for a moment longer before he slipped behind his desk. He grabbed a file on his desk and extended it forward. The motion caught Jack's attention instantly.

 

"What's this?" he asked, taking the file.

 

"That is a run down on our current situation. I'm sure you'll have a lot of questions, but that will do for now."

 

Jack stared at him. "You're giving this to me? Just like that? How do you know that I'm not some spy for whatever little conspiracy is trying to poke a hole in your operation?"

 

"Because I know a genuine human reaction when I see one."

 

Jack looked away. "Sure. Fine." He shifted his weight from leg to leg, his cheeks flushing pink. "Thanks."

 

"We could use your expertise." Hank beckoned the soldier he'd summoned into the room. "I'd like you to escort O'Neill to one of the VIP rooms on the lower level." He returned his attention to Jack. "Anything you had in your old room will be transferred down to you. I'll be in touch with you in an hour."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Hank chuckled, seeing the first full-fledged smile on the young man since he'd entered the base. Leaving his desk, he walked to the briefing room to join the others. Now, if only everything else would work that smoothly.

 

Jack entered the room and kept close to the door. It wasn't that he was afraid or hesitant. He was just on guard for any atypical response.

 

Daniel raised his head, catching Jack's gaze before he glanced back down to finish tying his laces. When he was done, he swung his legs over the side of the gurney and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

"It's not like I have special powers that can fry you on the spot," Daniel said.

 

"You sure about that?"

 

"I think I'd know." He nudged his chin forward, motioning to the file in Jack's hands. "What's that?"

 

Jack ignored the question and walked over to meet him. As Jack approached, Daniel hopped off the gurney, smoothing the sheets so Jack could set down the file. Jack did as expected, only he didn't open the folder just yet.

 

"What happened?" Jack asked. He needed to hear for himself.

 

"I'm sure you've read the report. Prior. Staff. I was too busy being attacked to really remember all the details."

 

"Lose the attitude, Daniel." Jack slapped the folder open. "You're not making your case, here."

 

"I saw her, Jack. I saw her with them." His searching eyes held Jack's gaze. "I don't think you can understand how that felt."

 

"No, probably not." Distance had the ability to mask old wounds. One of the few perks that came with living on the other side of the country, for better or for worse. "You okay?"

 

"No," Daniel muttered.

 

Not the answer Jack wanted, but he could read between the lines. "I mean, other than that are you—"

 

"Yeah. I won't be going all zombie, if that's what you mean." He turned to Jack. "Things must be bad for you to have come all the way from Washington."

 

On multiple fronts, Jack thought. But he kept that to himself.

 

"The Nishta Project was conceived under presidential order," he explained, making note of Daniel's shocked expression. "Obviously, there are people misusing that directive."

 

"Obviously."

 

"It's not just the Ori that are a problem. Something else is going on and it stinks to high heaven."

 

"That doesn't make any sense," Daniel said. "I don't understand why there had to be a directive in the first place. Why would President Hayes use nishta to try to control the SGC? He knows that he can turn to you, General Hammond, or General Landry. We're not enemies."

 

None of them were enemies. But politics could be rough. While Jack didn't know all the details, he knew that Hayes felt pressure from his administration, particularly those who knew about the program, and the Appropriations Committee to make sure the SGC showed them some results. Jack never had liked to think about the financial end of things back when he was heading SG-1; he just wanted to get the job done. Things were different now. They had been ever since he'd been promoted the first time. He couldn't afford not to consider the implications of funding and the partisan politics that went into government.

 

"Hayes wouldn't be that underhanded," Jack said. "I doubt it's as black and white as it seems. And that's why it's more important than ever we sway the IOA and their respective governments into backing a unilateral agreement against the Ori. One less problem to deal with while we get to the bottom of the nishta issue."

 

Daniel nodded. "Right." He snuck in a small sly smile, easing some of Jack's concerns over his mental state. "You're becoming quite the diplomat."

 

"Yeah, and I hate it." Jack passed over a photo from his file. "What can you tell me about this place?"

 

"I've seen this before," Daniel replied with a frown. He adjusted his glasses and rubbed the brow over his right eye thoughtfully.

 

"You should have. The description is nearly identical to the one you gave about that place when you were off…" Jack made a fluttering motion with his fingers.

 

Daniel snorted. "It's like the palace where Vala and I were imprisoned. On the Plains of Celestis."

 

"The what?"

 

"The Plains of Celestis," Daniel mumbled. He traced his fingers over the photo before moving to review the rest. "Only this palace is smaller, much smaller. And it's on land."

 

"So, it's Ori designed?"

 

"Most definitely. Or, well, as far as I can tell. It's not like I had a chance to stop and smell the roses while being investigated for being a heretic." Daniel paused, his frown deepening as he turned to stare at Jack.

 

"What?" Jack asked.

 

"No suit."

 

Jack glanced down at himself. "Huh? What's your point?"

 

"Sam, Teal'c, and Doctor Lam have been coming in here fully geared up."

 

"Well, the doc can't find anything wrong with you. Otherwise, she wouldn't let you walk around in here without your bracelets," Jack said, pointing to the restraints on the gurney. "She doesn't see why we have to wear the hazmat suits. Not now, anyway."

 

Daniel's face brightened. "That means I can get out of here."

 

"Not exactly."

 

That pissed-off look Daniel seemed to have perfected in Mal Doran's presence made a comeback. "What?"

 

"Doctor Lam wants to be completely certain that you're okay."

 

"She's tested me five times," Daniel said with a frustrated sigh. "There's nothing left to check." He lowered his voice, stepping closer to Jack. He didn't miss the determination in Daniel's eyes, the same kind of fire he always got when he had his heart set on something. "I have to come with you."

 

"No, you don't."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

"Daniel…"

 

"Look, Jack. I've been to a building that is almost identical to this one. If you want to find Janet and gain any intelligence on this place, I'm your best bet for a clean and effective campaign."

 

"Quite the military mind," Jack said, arching his eyebrows.

 

Daniel sighed. "Yeah, and I hate it."

 

Jack considered Daniel's plea. He was right. If they wanted to hit this base with all they had, having Daniel's familiarity with the place would certainly cut losses. At the same time, Jack couldn't be certain that Daniel would be an asset. His emotions were too entangled with finding Janet, and it's not like there was any love between Daniel and the Ori.

 

Add the event on Kelowna into the mix and Jack wasn't feeling so great about letting Daniel join them. He wasn't keen on the mission period.

 

"Jack…"

 

"Daniel, you might be fine right now, but there's no telling what could happen hours or even days from now. I can't be in the middle of a mission off-world and have you snap and go Rambo on us." He chewed the inside of his lip as he weighed the possibilities. "I need reassurances that you can't give me."

 

"I know. I wish I could give you more than my word." Daniel searched his face, and once again Jack saw the passion, the fire, and the need to prove himself. The desire to try to save Janet, Sha're, Sarah, Vala…whoever.

 

Jack sighed and stared at Daniel, making known his own determination and passion. He wouldn't let this command go to hell.

 

"This mission will go as planned," Jack told him. His gaze was hard. "I won't let anything or anyone endanger my men."

 

Daniel was a bright guy. Jack knew he understood.

 

Never losing the fire in his eyes, Daniel nodded. "You're just going to have to trust me."

 

 

Chapter 10

 

"Now, the palace isn't all that far from the Gate."

 

"We'll be in and out in no time flat," Jack told Hank. They walked down the corridor, heading toward the Gateroom. "Don't worry."

 

Hank gave Jack that same look he'd seen him give his daughter on numerous occasions. Jack rolled his eyes.

 

Of course he knew it wouldn't be easy. Since when did any of their plans work? The whole scenario was obviously a set up – the Prior, Fraiser, the ease at getting intel on the palace. But the gains outweighed the risk. They had to know what the hell was going on at this site. They could be on the verge of uncovering something that would sway international opinion in their favor. They could even find something they could use against the Ori.

 

And they could be rescuing one of their own. As far as Jack was concerned, that was reason enough.

 

"We've handled worse situations," Jack assured Hank, pausing at the Gateroom door.

 

"These are Priors and the Ori, Jack. You might have Special Ops training on the top of your accomplishments, but that won't stop them from tossing you around like a rag doll."

 

"Now that's a pleasant image."

 

Hank stopped him. "This is no joke."

 

"Never said it was," Jack said evenly. "But it has to be done."

 

Hank knew it. Jack knew it. Nothing was going to change that fact.

 

Hank nodded, clapping Jack on the shoulder before he disappeared through the passageway that led to the control room. Jack tapped his fingers on the butt of his P-90, considering Hank's words. Looked like the helmets were a good idea, after all.

 

Jack slipped on his helmet, readjusting the night vision goggles he had attached to the rim. Without another thought, he walked into the Gateroom.

 

The teams hadn't fully assembled, but they looked about ready. He caught Ferretti standing in for an injured Harper on SG-5; Reynolds and his team standing by; and Carter, Mitchell, Teal'c and Daniel finishing organizing their weapons and gizmos. Jack's gaze fell to the G36k Mitchell was holding.

 

Jack cleared his throat and motioned to Mitchell with his fingers. "A word," he said.

 

Mitchell sauntered over to Jack. "What's up?"

 

"I'm not here to tell you how to run your command—"

 

"But you want me to split up my team into two smaller units," Cameron said, flashing him a knowing smile. "Sam with me and Teal'c with Jackson. Or vice versa. You want to be sure someone is there to knock us out in case Jackson and I go Living Dead on you."

 

"Sounds about right."

 

"No problem."

 

"Ah…that's not all," Jack said. Mitchell frowned. "Let's try to tone this mission down a bit, all right?" Jack pointed to Mitchell's G36k. "I know you can get a little…involved in your work."

 

"Ah ha," Mitchell said with a laugh. "I'm hearing you."

 

"Good." He forced a smile and motioned for Mitchell to go join the rest of his team, ignoring the curious expressions plastered on the faces of Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c.

 

Jack made his way toward the ramp, turning around to face the men and women assembled at the rear of the Gateroom. He thumbed his fingers on his belt and cleared his throat once.

 

"Alright, folks. Listen up." Jack waited for the chatter to fade into a handful of whispers. "You've all been briefed on the terrain surrounding the target. This is a search and rescue. We move in, grab Fraiser, get the hell out, and make for the Gate. Questions?"

 

Nothing but a murmur of agreement. Not a bad start.

 

"Feretti, I want you and SG-5 to hold the Gate."

 

"What about you, sir?" Feretti asked.

 

"I'll be heading into the palace with SG-1 and SG-3," Jack said. "Once we have a better idea of the interior layout, we'll reassess formation then." Jack searched the crowd, silently assessing everyone's state of readiness. Though he felt confident with the crew with him, he had to ask. "Are we clear on what we have to do?"

 

Another murmur of agreement passed through the group. Jack grunted with satisfaction before turning his attention to the control room. Inside, he saw Jonas seated next to Walter with Landry standing by their sides. Jonas was on standby along with SG-14 in the event they needed a rescue team themselves. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. Finally, Jack gave the nod to start the dialing sequence.

 

Jack exhaled slowly, turning his back to the teams, and faced the Gate. The ring started spinning. Jack had almost forgotten just how crazy it all seemed – watching a strange alien artifact charge itself before it exploded.

 

"It's been over a year now since you went through," he heard Daniel whisper near his ear.

 

Jack didn't bother to look at him. "I remember the first time we went through this thing."

 

"Good to know you haven't gone senile, yet," Daniel said. Through the corner of his eye, Jack caught his mischievous little smirk.

 

Jack remained still, facing forward. "I hated you."

 

"The feeling was mutual."

 

"You were a soft, sneezing, lying son of a bitch."

 

"You were a hard, unforgiving, single-minded ass."

 

Jack turned to Daniel, feeling the corners of his mouth turn upward into an impish smile. Daniel's face mirrored his own.

 

Yeah, it was crazy all right. But it was home.

 

The Gate shook, whining as the final chevrons locked. Feeling the anticipation build, amplified by the vibration that diffused from the ramp through his boots, Jack leaned forward. Then, right on schedule, the Gate ripped open, spilling its contents into a whoosh of light. Jack set his goggles into place and grabbed his P-90.

 

"Go, go, go!" he yelled, charging up the ramp and into the pool of light.

 

The journey was over before he'd finished yelling. Jack thundered down the small set of stairs beneath the Stargate and planted himself the roadway that led to the palace. Quietly, he started to search the area.

 

The planet was deep in darkness. Through the gritty and uneven scope of the goggles, he caught little to no movement, except for the SG personnel that were piling through the Gate. The moons that the UAV had uncovered earlier were nowhere in sight; Jack figured they were masked by cloud cover. The columns rose on both sides above him and he could see the palace as it loomed ahead.

 

Everyone kept talking about how small the palace was. Damn. Jack needed to have a talk with Daniel and Carter about what they considered "small."

 

"Report," Jack said, continuing to search the terrain.

 

"The area is clear," Feretti said. "We'll secure the Gate. You're set to go."

 

Perfect. "If things go south, I want you to contact the SGC," Jack said. He waved for SG-3 and SG-1 to join him. "Let's go."

 

Jack joined SG-3 and the two teams started to slink down the pathway to the palace. They remained quick but careful, keeping watchful as they searched the area through their night vision. Nothing out the ordinary. Nothing even ordinary. Just silence and a clear view of the palace.

 

What a palace. It curved and rose in a way that Daniel would have probably figured was majestic, if this were the time and place for that sort of thing. Jack could already anticipate the curves serving as perfect blind spots and hiding places. Snipers could be lining the roof.

 

"Put on your thermal vision," Jack told them. "I don't want any surprises."

 

Jack readjusted his goggles, switching to thermal. He raised his P-90, scoping both the tops of the palace towers and the perimeter around its base.

 

Nothing. Nothing at all.

 

The palace couldn't be empty. They'd put too much work in this plan for the damn place to be empty.

 

They reached the entrance, stopping at the gates. He lifted the goggles and set them on his helmet. While the coast was clear, Jack took the opportunity to regroup and reassess their current position. He reached into his vest and tossed C-4 to Carter.

 

"Extra insurance," he told her upon catching her puzzled look.

 

"You ready, General?" Reynolds asked.

 

Jack nodded. No sense in wasting any more time. "We get inside the main chamber, look for signs of hostiles, and secure the area." He turned to his old team. "Once we have everything under control, you hit the next level. If Fraiser is here, I'm willing to bet dollars to donuts she's in one of those towers."

 

"I can help with the layout once we're inside," Daniel said. He snapped off the goggles and slipped his glasses out of his pocket, sliding them onto his face. "I'm particularly familiar with the towers."

 

Jack didn't want to know. He just wanted the job done. There was something about this place that sent a jolt through his body and not in a good way, either.

 

He nudged his chin to the door as he raised his weapon. "Captain."

 

Willis grabbed onto the doors of the gates and pressed his body against it, waiting for Jack's signal. SG-1 and SG-3 readied their weapons and lurched forward.

 

"Now!"

 

The two teams burst through the doors and poured into the main foyer. O'Neill and Reynolds charged up the middle, circling and scouting, their weapons high and ready to fire. The rest of SG-3 fanned out in a circular pattern, quickly covering the floor. SG-1 remained by the door, watching their backs.

 

The main entrance was huge. There were columns inside, much like the ones outside, etched in Ancient, as far as Cameron could tell. Hell, they'd even left the lights on for them. At the back of the room was a large expansive staircase that reached up to the second floor before splitting into two separate wings. They formed two parallel balconies on either side of the main chamber. From where Cameron stood, he couldn't see any of the enemy lying in wait for them, but it didn't erase the creepy feel. The place reminded Cameron of those old mansions he'd visited in Rhode Island or the plantations from his home in the South.

 

Cameron happened to glance to his left and frowned when he noticed Sam was studying some little gadget intently. "Got something?" he asked her.

 

"I'm not sure," she said. "I'm picking up some heat signatures on the second level, but they keep fading in and out."

 

"How can you not be sure?" Jackson asked, glancing back out the doors.

 

"Don't tell me we got faulty equipment," Cameron said. Wouldn't that be the kicker?

 

"It could be anything from range to conditions on this planet." Sam held the thermal device higher, moving as she searched for more definitive reasons. "Either way, something is up there."

 

"Then we should investigate," Teal'c said.

 

"Just waiting for Boss Man to give the all clear," Mitchell said.

 

"Clear," General O'Neill said, taking the cue. He marched over to them while remaining alert. "Major Coleman and I will hold the stairwell that leads up to the second floor. We'll be ready in case you need reinforcements. No heroics," he told him, his eyes hard. "Just grab her and go."

 

"No problem," Cameron said. O'Neill stepped out of their way, allowing SG-1 room to make it to the stairway. Cameron felt O'Neill hot on their heels.

 

The four of them, followed by Coleman and O'Neill, climbed the stairs. Heeding O'Neill's advice, Cameron split the team – he kept Sam with him and had Teal'c watch Jackson. Both veered off onto different sides of the level while Coleman and O'Neill remained in the center.

 

Sam and Cameron quietly stalked down the balcony, pausing at each door while Sam checked her thermal camera. Every time they stopped, she would shake her head and they would try the next door. And the next door. And the next door.

 

"What? They disappear?"

 

"This way," she said, pausing to shift the weight of her P-90.

 

The two of them crept into the next room on their stop, finding that in reality it was another stairwell. This stairway was tall, narrow and steep, giving Cameron flashbacks to old ghost stories his grandma used to tell.

 

"I'm thinking we should have brought Casper along for this one."

 

Sam snickered. She moved ahead of Cameron and glanced upward. "There's definitely another floor up there." Sam took a step forward, pausing to touch her radio. "General," Sam whispered into her two-way. "We're advancing up a level. Over and out."

 

"Wonderful," Cameron said, following Sam up the stairs. "Let's go ghost hunting."

 

Teal'c remained on guard as he and Daniel Jackson investigated the building. The palace appeared to hold many secrets with numerous doors and passageways throughout its structure. This fact did little to ease the restlessness that Teal'c felt.

 

While he wished to find Doctor Fraiser as much as his friends, he did not see the usefulness in this mission. His years as First Prime of Apophis had provided him with the training and skill to tell the difference between a sound mission and one that was not. The quest to find Doctor Fraiser was indeed a trap. This he knew. But the nature of the trap remained unknown to him.

 

The Tau'ri could be brash and ignorant in their decision-making. It was one of their faults, one that angered Teal'c deeply, but one that he had learned to accept. He knew that the hearts of his friends were in the right places, even if they expressed themselves poorly.

 

But Teal'c had to admit to himself that his unease was not targeted on the planet or this building alone. He strengthened his grip on his weapon and glanced at Daniel Jackson.

 

He feared for his friend or what his friend could become.

 

Since the incident on Kelowna, Teal'c had noticed a change in the behavior of his friend. He knew that it could be solely due to the appearance of Doctor Fraiser, but Teal'c did not believe this was so. Teal'c feared that there was a change present within Daniel Jackson.

 

He understood that Daniel Jackson often became agitated when presented with a problem that he could not fix. Yet, his agitation over the course of the past few hours left Teal'c feeling cold inside.

 

"Teal'c," Daniel Jackson whispered. He was holding a device similar to the one that Colonel Carter had been carrying. "You can relax. I'm okay."

 

"I wish that I could believe your words, Daniel Jackson."

 

"Just trust me," he said. He stopped long enough to place his hand on Teal'c's arm. "I wouldn't hurt you or anyone else."

 

It was true that Daniel Jackson would never intentionally harm his friends. But what had happed with Volnek and the Sodan had not been intentional.

 

Daniel Jackson sighed and nodded, before he went back to his work. Teal'c felt guilty for his feelings, knowing that his friend understood. But Teal'c could not allow for a lack of vigilance. Not with the Ori and their powers.

 

The two of them entered another room on another level. It appeared to be yet another place filled will large books and ancient items. Under normal circumstances, Teal'c felt Daniel Jackson would have enjoyed a building such as this.

 

"Oh, hey, wait," Daniel Jackson said, making a motion for Teal'c to stop. He walked to one of the bookcases, holding up the thermal detector to the shelf. "I think there is a passage behind here."

 

"It would not be the first time we have encountered hidden rooms and passageways," Teal'c commented, as he helped Daniel Jackson search for a way to access the room behind the wall.

 

"No, every creepy civilization seems to have one," Daniel Jackson mumbled. He pocketed the device and lowered his weapon before he began removing books from the shelf. "One of these has to be a trigger."

 

Teal'c watched as his friend continued his fruitless search. Perhaps the answer did not lie within the bookcase.

 

"Daniel Jackson!" he called. Teal'c moved to stand near a statue. He had watched enough television to know that clues could be found in any place. "Perhaps we should try this."

 

Daniel Jackson stared at him as if he did not believe him, offering Teal'c a moment of relief from his concern over his friend's possible ailment. "This isn't that Resident Evil game that you like to play."

 

Teal'c reached over and pulled the arm of the statue. The bookcase groaned and shook, moving to reveal a secret passageway. Teal'c tilted his head and grinned.

 

"Okay, or not…" Daniel Jackson wiped the sweat from his forehead and grabbed the device, holding it into the darkened hallway. "I'm picking up something but it's faint. I think we should be careful."

 

"Indeed. We shall proceed with caution."

 

Teal'c followed Daniel Jackson through the passageway, remaining both watchful of his friend and their surroundings. The night vision goggles helped them in their pursuit through the darkness, though Teal'c did not enjoy the greenness that flooded his vision. He told his friend the same.

 

"It's because human sensitivity peaks in the green region of the optical spectrum," Daniel explained to him as they began to climb another staircase.

 

"I am not human."

 

"I am guessing you are close enough. You'd have to talk to Sam about that. Oh." Daniel Jackson stopped at the top of the stairwell and pivoted, bringing his weapon closer to his body. "I'm picking up something…"

 

Immediately, Teal'c readied his gun. He waited, listening through the dark and silence.

 

A screeching.

 

Teal'c stepped forward, focused solely ahead of him, concentrating on the sound. He opened fire.

 

There was another screech and a hiss, followed by the patter of tiny feet as they scurried away.

 

"Oh. It was a rat," Daniel Jackson said. He slowed his pace as they entered another large hallway, this one possessing some light. They both took off their goggles, but Daniel Jackson did not press farther.

 

"Are you well?"

 

Daniel Jackson nodded, but Teal'c could see the distress in his features. "I think you're right, Teal'c. This place obviously hasn't been occupied in a long time. This feels more and more like a trap every second."

 

Teal'c stopped and raised his P-90. "I did not divulge this information to you."

 

Daniel Jackson stared at him. "No, but I do know you well enough to read it in your face."

 

Teal'c nodded and lowered his weapon. Perhaps he was too distrustful of his friend.

 

Abruptly, Daniel Jackson pressed his hand to Teal'c's chest. "Wait. I'm picking up on something…not a rat." He jogged a few paces, stopping in front of a closed set of large doors. "There are people inside."

 

"You believe it to be Doctor Fraiser."

 

"I have to take that chance."

 

"Daniel Jackson!" His friend rattled the door handles and stepped inside before Teal'c could reach him. Teal'c pursued him, dashing toward the doors only to be horrified as they slammed in front of his face, barring him from access to his friend and what lay on the other side. He shook the doors.

 

"Daniel Jackson!"

 

"And you're sure?"

 

"I am certain, O'Neill."

 

"Dammit, try to get in there." Jack shook his head. He knew this was a bad idea. Jack grabbed his radio again. "Daniel? Daniel, are you there? It's O'Neill. Over.

 

Nothing. Of course.

 

"Daniel, dammit, answer me!"

 

Still nothing.

 

Screw it. Jack tried a different approach. "Mitchell, Carter, we have a situation."

 

"This is Mitchell. What's the problem?"

 

"Daniel's locked in some room. Possibly with some Priors. I need for you to double back to my position so I can go after them."

 

"Negative, sir." That was Carter. "There's a catwalk that crosses over to the west side of the palace. We can pick up Teal'c's trail and meet him at his current position."

 

"Roger that, Carter. Proceed."

 

Jack scowled, crossing from one side of the staircase to the other. So far, he and his men hadn't encountered any resistance, but Teal'c's distress call left him on edge. Jack was starting to consider the possibility that this wasn't really about Fraiser at all. The Ori wanted something from Daniel and for them to take elaborate steps to ensnare him meant it was pretty damn big.

 

"Is it bad, General?"

 

Jack stopped his pacing to catch a glimpse of Coleman. "Not yet. Just stay alert."

 

He was about to resume his guard when he heard Reynolds call out to him. "General, you want to come take a look at this?"

 

Jack instructed Coleman to stay put before he jogged down the steps to meet Reynolds by the main entrance. Reynolds and Reed were eyeing something in the corner, but Jack couldn't make heads or tails of it.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"It looks like a rat," Captain Reed said.

 

He glared at them. They called him down to look at a rat. "You're joking."

 

"At least I think it's a rat," she muttered.

 

Some rat. The thing had three eyes, fur that looked like the spines on a porcupine, and a tale as long as a snake.

 

"How come our scanners didn't pick up on these?" Reynolds asked. They watched as the creature scurried away.

 

Jack didn't know. He wasn't a scientist. And he wasn't going to call Carter to ask.

 

"They're alien," Jack said. "That's good enough for me."

 

It wasn't good enough for him, but that would have to do. If the rat-things had managed to originally evade their thermal and optical equipment, then who knew what else was lurking in the building. Jack slid his goggles back over his eyes and adjusted the settings.

 

"Crap!" he shouted.

 

The walls were teeming with them. Crawling, pushing, tumbling all over each other. It gave him flashbacks to the reports he'd read on the bugs that had overrun the Gamma Site. Jack tore the goggles off his head.

 

"They're in the walls," Jack said, fumbling through his vest pockets. "Tons of them."

 

"What?" Reynolds paled.

 

"Coleman," Jack called. "Be on the lookout for—"

 

He froze, watching as Coleman stared down one of the rats. He had his weapon drawn and pointed on the creature. The thing remained quiet, its long snake tail slithering back and forth as it watched him.

 

Quietly, Jack steadied his weapon and aimed for the little rat-bastard. Keeping his pace slow and deliberate, Jack started his approach on Coleman and the rat.

 

"Get lost." Coleman pulled a fake lunge at the creature and spit at it.

 

The creature growled – so not a rat – before it reared on its hind legs. Jack marched toward the stairs, increasing his pace. He wasn't too keen on the way the thing was acting.

 

It growled again, and then hissed. Jack geared up for a clean shot when suddenly the rat-thing belched, spraying a stream of liquid onto Coleman. The major screamed, dropping his gun before pulling at his jacket. The creature darted away.

 

"Dammit," Jack muttered, running up the stairs.  "Coleman?"

 

"It burns." He sucked in a deep breath, gasping as he looked down at his vest. The liquid was eating through his clothes. Jack didn't even want to scare the guy with what was going on with his hands. "God…hurts."

 

"Acid or something." Jack motioned for Willis. "I need you to get up here and help Coleman."

 

Jack moved out of the way to let SG-3's medic take control. He hopped down the steps and rejoined Reed and Reynolds.

 

"What the hell were those things?" Reynolds asked.

 

"I don't know. But I don't think it's a coincidence." Jack grabbed his radio. "Feretti, do you copy? Over."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"We have a possible situation on our hands. Is the Gate secure?"

 

"No problems by the Gate, sir. We're ready and waiting. Over."

 

"Good." Jack rubbed his forehead. "Be on the lookout for little…" How the heck was he going to describe them? "Look out for alien rats. Don't argue with me; just make sure that you do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. Are you equipped with shock grenades?"

 

"Yes, sir. Should we deploy?"

 

"Prepare them just in case. O'Neill out."

 

Jack glanced back at Willis, making sure that his six was covered. So far, no sign of the squirmy little vermin. Though, Jack didn't like the color in Coleman's face.

 

He turned to his radio again. "Carter, Mitchell, did you get all that? Teal'c? Daniel? This is O'Neill."

 

"We copy, sir," Carter answered. "We'll be on the lookout for any strange creatures that might be in the area."

 

"They're in the walls, Carter. Be careful."

 

"Copy that, sir. We're approaching Teal'c's last known position now. Carter out."

 

No answer from Daniel or Teal'c. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

 

"General!" Reynolds shouted.

 

Jack spun around and aimed his weapon, searching the floor. He could hear the rats scratching and hissing inside the walls, their movements sounding more aggressive, more frantic. Some of the material that held the walls together started to flake and crumble.

 

"This is bad, isn't it?" Reed asked, her voice trembling.

 

"Oh, it's bad." Jack double-checked his backup clips. "Everyone on guard. We're holding down the fort and not leaving until SG-1 is safe and secure."

 

Sam and Cameron jogged down the corridor, breaking for the large double doors that were set near the end of the hall. From her vantage point, Sam could see the doors had been opened, which meant Teal'c must have been successful. Or he and Daniel could both be dead.

 

Don't think that way, Sam, she told herself.

 

"Hurry, Sam," Cameron said, stopping to search the corridor. "I can hear the little gremlins munching through the walls."

 

She sprinted ahead of Cameron, charging for the double doors with her weapon locked and loaded. As she came to the opening, she stopped and aimed her P-90.

 

"Weapons down, now!" she yelled.

 

Her military training kicked in, helping to keep the shock from crippling her resolve. Teal'c had his weapon aimed on Daniel, who in turn was holding a Prior's staff and his P-90. Janet and a Prior stood by the window.

 

"He is not himself," Teal'c said, remaining where he stood.

 

"Don't listen to him, Sam," Daniel called back. "It's not what it looks like. I'm only trying to help."

 

"It looks like you're holding a Prior's staff, Jackson," Cameron said.

 

"Put the weapon down, Daniel," Sam repeated.

 

"As long as I have this, the Prior can't do anything," Daniel said. Sam watched him, knowing that what he said was a lie and wondered if he was doing it for Janet's benefit. The Prior's powers were localized in a certain portion of his brain and only augmented by the staff. What Daniel was doing was trying to even the playing field, she realized as he started to inch toward the window. "The Priors aren't infinitely powerful, Janet," Daniel continued. "They might seem to want to help, and I believe they truly believe that, too. But they are just willing slaves to the Ori."

 

"The Ori only want to save us, like they saved me," Janet said, her voice powerful and controlled.

 

"He's telling you the truth," Sam said, beginning to inch towards the Prior, Daniel, and Janet. Teal'c joined her while Cameron remained by the door. "We've seen what the Ori can do. Janet, we wouldn't lie to you." She met her friend's gaze, trying to make her understand somehow. All that they had been through together…"I wouldn't lie to you."

 

"The wicked tell you lies!" the Prior shouted.

 

"Shut up!" Daniel yelled back, shaking his gun.

 

"Your friends speak falsehoods to you," the Prior said, urging Janet to his side. "They did not save you. They could not save you. Only through the power of the Ori were you raised. Hallowed be the Ori!"

 

"You cannot believe the words of the Ori, Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c and Sam crept closer. "The Priors, through the Ori, will turn a person against their own people. I have witnessed this with my own eyes."

 

"He's not lying," Cameron added. "Women, children, innocent people – doesn't matter. Whatever works for the Ori."

 

"It is the will of the Ori," the Prior said simply.

 

"It's the will of the Ori to kill children?" Daniel asked. "To kill innocent men and women? To slaughter entire populations?"

 

Janet eyed the Prior and then returned her gaze to SG-1, the hesitation embedded in her face. Sam felt a twinge of hope. Janet was cracking.

 

"Janet, please come back with us," Sam said, pleading with her eyes. "We can sit down and talk."

 

"You've got a scared and lonely kid at home that loves you and misses you very much," Cameron added. "Don't turn your back on that."

 

"Cassandra," Janet whispered.

 

"Yes, Cassandra," Daniel said. Sam didn't miss that the distance between him and the Prior was decreasing rapidly, a fact that started to make her very uneasy. "At least come back with us so that we can show you," Daniel continued. "Then, you can make up your mind. But it has to be your mind. No one else's."

 

"Would you not like to see your daughter?" Teal'c asked.

 

Janet shifted her weight anxiously. "I –"

 

"Daniel," Sam cried. "Watch out!"

 

The Prior thrust his arm forward, attempting to call the staff to his hands. But Daniel wouldn't let go. He winced, pulling back as he struggled against the Prior's power while he tried to steady his gun at the same time. Daniel grunted, stumbling backwards, before he was hurdled forward by the force of the Prior's command. Daniel crashed into the Prior, collided into the window. Sam held her breath, hoping it would keep, following their every movement with her gun. Finally, the two moved away from the window, banging into the walls and the table. Sam still couldn't get a clear shot.

 

In the meantime, Janet had made a break for the door. "Teal'c!" Sam called.

 

Teal'c darted after Janet while Cameron blocked the doorway. She heard the distinct sound of a zat firing and a thump as Janet's body hit the ground.

 

One less problem to think about. Sam circled Daniel and the Prior, ready for any possible window of opportunity.

 

"Daniel, his staff!"

 

"I know." Daniel dropped his weapon and pushed at the Prior's face, digging his hand into his skin as he cemented his vice-like grip on the staff. But the Prior wouldn't back off. Sam was starting to wonder if the Ori made them incapable of feeling pain or least increasing their tolerance for pain.

 

Scratch…

 

Daniel and the Prior smacked into the wall again. With a grunt, Daniel overpowered the Prior, smashing the stone-crystal of his staff on the wall above their heads. The useless weapon fell to the floor. Sam immediately rushed to Daniel's side, pinning the Prior in place.

 

Scratch, scratch, scratch…

 

"What the hell was that?" Daniel breathed.

 

"Aw, hell," Cameron said. "It's them."

 

"Daniel, we have to leave," Sam said. She gave the Prior a good shove before tossing him in the corner.

 

"It does not matter what you do with me," the Prior said, his milky eyes seeing through her. "May your wicked ways be the death of you. You shall see the true might and power of the Ori."

 

"The rats?" Cameron asked. Sam stole a glance back at him and Teal'c. Teal'c had already scooped up Janet and tossed her over his shoulder.

 

The Prior smiled. It wasn't malicious or even arrogant. Sam thought Daniel was right. These people truly believed in the Ori.

 

"There will come the day when you shall join with us," the Prior told Daniel.

 

"Not likely," Daniel muttered, grabbing his gun.

 

"You know it. You can feel it. It is the will of the Ori."

 

"Tell the Ori to shove it," Sam said, scowling at the Prior. She nudged Daniel with her shoulder. "Let's go."

 

Cameron and Teal'c slipped out of the room with Sam and Daniel close at their heels. Quickly, Sam filled them in on everything that she knew so far as the four of them hurried to the foyer on the entrance level.

 

Jack shot another round into the floor, driving the rat-things back a few steps. As he reloaded, Reynolds took his place, firing to keep the creatures at bay. Willis and Reed held their own on either side of Jack and Reynolds.

 

"General, we can't hold this position forever," Reynolds said. He fired again. "They're getting brave."

 

Jack knew that it would be suicide to stay. He glanced over to Coleman's dead body sprawled across the stairs. He'd already lost one good man. He wasn't about to let SG-1 end that way.

 

Jack grabbed his radio. "Sierra Gulf One Niner, get your asses down here now!" Jack slammed a new clip into his P-90 and fired another round at the spitters.

 

The creeps were literally pouring out of holes in the walls. Somehow they'd gnawed through both plaster and stone, just adding to the wonderful and bizarre feats they could perform, aside from the nice little spitting maneuver. Jack wasn't interested in seeing how those teeth of theirs worked on bone.

 

Even the combined power from the four of them seemed to do little damage. For every sucker they blasted or scared away, five more would come running in to take his place. And Reynolds was right; they were getting braver and downright nasty.

 

A group of them belched and hissed, sending waves of acid onto the floor just diagonal to their location. Jack eyed the area warily, noting how quickly the liquid ate away the stone. Whatever the stuff was, it seemed to eat through everything. Wasn't that special.

 

That's when he saw them. Mitchell and Teal'c were leading the pack, storming their way across the balcony as they headed for the stairs. Jack could see that Teal'c had managed to grab Fraiser. Score one for the big guy.

 

Daniel and Carter were bringing up the rear, firing at something Jack couldn't see. He didn't need to guess what was hot on their tails.

 

"Clear a path for SG-1!" Jack shouted, changing his position and aiming for the base of the stairs.

 

Willis and Reed did the same, while Reynolds continued to fire a round to keep back the strays that were breaking off from the pack. The rats backed off, for the moment at least, as more continued to pour through the holes.

 

"Get moving!" Jack yelled.

 

Mitchell thundered down the staircase, firing left and right before he jumped the last few steps. He spun around, backing into SG-3 while firing into the crowd.

 

Teal'c hurried down after him, slowed considerably by the weight from carrying Fraiser. He raised his P-90 and fired a devastating round to his left. Then, he made a break for SG-3, allowing them to cover him.

 

The rats were moving in fast and hard. Carter and Daniel weren't going to make it.

 

Jack lowered his weapon, slinging it over his shoulder and went for his zat. Stepping forward, he started zatting the hell out of everything he saw, multiple times. The spitters lurched, convulsed, died and disappeared, not necessarily in that order.

 

He turned to another section, zatting anything that he could. "Go!"

 

Carter and Daniel stomped down the stairs, shooting at the little monsters that were yapping at their heels. When in the clear, Carter surged forward, pummeling any of the rats that got in her way.

 

Daniel followed her, but slowed as he reached the end of the set of stairs. Jack swore when he saw Daniel start to head back up the stairs.

 

"Jackson!" Mitchell called.

 

Daniel grabbed onto Coleman's arms and started to drag him down the stairs. Jack understood exactly what he was trying to do.

 

"It's too late, Daniel. We've got to go."

 

"We can't leave him," Daniel said with a grunt. "We've left too many of them behind."

 

Jack knew better than anyone the importance of never leaving a man behind. Hell, he'd instilled that number one rule into his team long ago. But this was neither the time nor place.

 

Jack moved onward, zatting as many as he could. Yet, they continued to flood the room. How many of them were there?

 

"Daniel, we have got to go," Jack said, moving to hit one that jumped over Daniel's head. He turned to his left. "Carter, watch your back!"

 

She spun around, facing one of the spitters that had jumped and become airborne, leaping towards her face. With a grunt, Carter smacked the rat with the butt of her gun and then gave it a ferocious kick, sending the thing flying straight across the room. It yelped in pain as it smacked against one of the inner columns.

 

"I've got him," Daniel said as he made it onto the floor. "I can—"

 

Daniel jerked back, moaning as Coleman's body burst into flames. Daniel made a hissing sound through his teeth, and he slapped his hand against his thigh, causing Jack concern as he considered the sudden outburst. But as Daniel made his way back to the rest of SG-1 and SG-3, he could see the flames on Daniel's cuff begin to snuff out into nothing.

 

Jack fell back to their original position. "You all right?" he asked all of them.

 

"We're fine, sir," Carter said.

 

"Just a burn," Daniel muttered.

 

"What are they?" Reynolds asked.

 

"The bastard children of a snake and mutant spider, I reckon," Mitchell said, backing away.

 

When they realized they had enough time to make for the exit, SG-1 and what was left of SG-3 joined Jack in breaking for the Gate. As they passed through the doors, Jack saw Carter slap a slab of C-4 on the wall. They ran down the pathway, grunting and heavy with sweat. Jack could hear the vermin rushing after them; the rats' distinctive patter filled the void behind them as they scurried toward the Gate. Occasionally, Jack and Reynolds would stop to fire into the darkness, trying to eliminate as many of the monsters as they could.

 

Carter hit the switch.

 

The explosion was brilliant enough, obliterating the doors and setting fire to the front of the palace. It bought them some time, though Jack could still hear the rats coming.

 

"Didn't we just do this a few weeks ago?" Mitchell complained, pausing to pick off a few rats before he sprinted to catch up with the rest of them. Jack paused to take his place, firing another round into the sketchy little creeps.

 

This wasn't going to work. The screeching rippled through the darkness from their left and right, not just from behind.

 

He'd be damned if they were going to die at the hands of some wannabe replicators.

 

"Down, down, down!" Jack yelled, waving his hand for them to stay clear. He grabbed a grenade from his belt, bit off the pin, and tossed the grenade into the heart of the pack.

 

The entire ground shook from the blast. Jack grinned proudly as earth, stone and bits of vermin were tossed into the air. The screeching sound of pain and death was music to his ears.

 

More screeching.

 

"Dammit."

 

They charged for the Gate, no longer looking back as the sound of the spitters filled the air. Jack knew they were surrounded with the little bastards coming at them from every angle. They needed off this rock, and they needed to get off now.

 

"Sir, what's going on?" Feretti asked.

 

"Shock grenade," Jack told him. He nudged Daniel over to the DHD. "Start dialing. No, not the SGC. Don't we have a medical base on that planet full of pink trees?"

 

"PJ8-477?"

 

"Whatever, just dial." Jack moved back over to Carter and Mitchell, offering them some backup. The three of them fired to their left, while Willis, Reed, and Reynolds concentrated their fire to their right. Feretti and his team provided cover on their six. Teal'c remained in the center, holding Fraiser.

 

Jack heard the Gate start to dial. "Feretti?"

 

"Ready."

 

"All right," Jack said. "On my count, turn away. One, two… now!"

 

Feretti tossed the shock grenade into the darkness while they all turned their backs to the palace and closed their eyes. Jack winced from the high-pitched whine, but was heartened to hear the sound of several thumps in the distance.

 

They began to fire again.

 

The Gate sprung to life.

 

"This is Daniel Jackson of SG-1. We have a medical situation. We're coming in hot. Please prepare for arrival."

 

Jack waited until he saw Daniel send the correct GDO signal and then motioned for everyone to fall back. They made a mad rush for the event horizon, allowing it to swallow them whole, knowing the creatures were just a breath away.

 

The last thing Jack heard before he was fragmented into a billions pieces was the belch and hiss of the rat-things behind him.

 

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