A Final View
A Final View
by purpleshrub
Summary: What happened on the other side of the mirror after the events of POV. SLIGHT Sam/Jack, but I'm not bringing him back to life or anything.
Category: Alternate Universe
Episode Related: 306 Point of View
Season: any Season
Pairing: Daniel/Share
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 01/24/04
"My fellow Americans. The past two and a half weeks have seen the greatest crisis the world has ever faced. In a nightmarish occurrence, large, hostile alien ships appeared out of the sky and attacked our planet without provocation. Entire countries were destroyed. Millions of lives were lost.
"Today I am here to tell you that four months ago, top scientists in the United States Air Force succeeded in unlocking a device capable of transporting matter instantaneously to distant planets across the galaxy. We believe that this is what led to the truly horrific attack we have endured."
The president paused, and for once, the horde of reporters was silent. Clearing his throat, the man continued, "We now realize, far too late, that the device, or Stargate, as it is named, was best left alone." His tone shifted from one of remorse to one of resolve. "But the time to stop the project has come and gone. We cannot bury our heads in the sand and ignore the threat that we now know exists out in space.
"The nations of our planet put aside their petty differences to face this attack, and I beg the citizens of this country and the world to remain so level-headed. These are frightening times, it is true, but they are also astonishing times. Scientists hope to use this extraordinary technology to bring to Earth technology, medicine, and knowledge of other cultures. This device, this Stargate, could be the single greatest thing to ever happen to the citizens of this world.
"I realize that my decision and orders to decipher and test the device without a more thorough assessment of the risks and my failure to notify our allies of this momentous discovery was unacceptable. I assure the public that the decision was mine alone, and that the brilliant scientists who have worked on the project were only following my orders. As such, I hereby resign from the presidency of the United States and stand aside for my capable Vice-President to assume the leadership of America. I salute all of you for your bravery, and shall be proud to stand among you in the days to come."
He turned briskly from the microphone. The reporters leaned in closer as the second-in-command was sworn in as President, but still were oddly silent. The new president stepped before the microphone. His speech was brief, and raised even more questions than the one before it. "Friends and citizens of the world. The Stargate project will employ the top scientists and soldiers from countries all over the world. It will be run on a day to day basis by the United States Air Force and international employees, both military and civilian. However, all the countries of the world will be allowed a say in major decisions on the project, and all countries shall benefit from anything we bring back.
"It will be a long road, my friends, but a wonderful, exciting one. A new office of information about the project and what the plans are for it is being created as we speak. Any further information will be passed on through press releases and our website, at www.stargate.gov. Thank you all." The new President waved graciously and stepped back, disappearing in the crowd of secret service agents. Suddenly coming to life, the reporters hurled questions at him, but in vain. He was gone. Every channel on TV was soon full of analysts, commentators and "tips" about the stunning information and turn of events.
In a grimy bar in southern Egypt, the bartender flipped through channels looking for a sports event. Lacking one, he turned off the little television. As the screen faded into darkness, Dr. Daniel Jackson tore his gaze away and turned to his companion. "I'll be . . ." he murmured.
"What?" asked Dr. Robert Rothman. The two had come in for supplies and (hopefully) information about the flashes in the sky they'd been seeing at the dig the past few weeks.
"You remember how I was late to The Lecture?" The Lecture had essentially finished off Daniel's academic career. Laughed off the stage, Robert had been the only one to stay loyal to him. Though Daniel had been regulated to a job as a Professor of Languages at a college in Nevada, during the summer Robert was always sure to invite Daniel to his digs. Between them, they never talked about The Lecture. Robert glanced at his friend in surprise, wondering if he was drunk.
"I remember. Didn't help the mood any."
Daniel licked his lips and swallowed a bit more beer. "I was stopped in the hall by two women. One was an older lady. Her name was Catherine, I think. And a younger woman with long, blond hair, named . . . I don't remember. They insisted that I stop and translate something for them immediately. They had a translation, but it was wrong . . . I suspect they used Budge." Daniel snorted as he mentioned Budge, and Robert had to grin. Daniel thought Budge was a doddering, stupid old fool and Budge had practically come out of retirement to help the campaign to bring Daniel down. Daniel continued, "I retranslated it for them . . . they had translated a word as "Doorway to Heaven" that I translated as "Stargate." They did come into the lecture, but left along with the others."
Robert frowned. "Daniel, that was four years ago."
Daniel shrugged. "True. But wouldn't it be odd . . . ?"
"I'd say." Finishing off the tepid beer, the men stood. As they browsed the marketplace, Daniel stopped before a street artist sketching in the dusty ground. "Robert. Take a look at this." Robert craned his neck and looked at the picture forming. It looked like an Egyptian pyramid with some sort of enormous foundation surrounding the base. Daniel switched to an Egyptian dialect and asked the man what he was drawing.
The man gestured at the sky as he answered. Daniel arched an eyebrow and told Robert. "He says word has it that this is what the alien ships looked like."
Robert gaped. "Like . . . pyramids? But, Daniel . . . That would mean . . ."
"That I was right? So it would. Hell of a way to find out, huh?" Robert nodded his agreement, but neither man pursued the topic further. Noting the late time, they resumed their shopping. They wanted to get back to the dig in time for supper.
Dr. Samantha Carter gazed out the window of the Air Force transport, looking down at what had once been Cairo, Egypt. Nothing remained of the city or its 6.8 million inhabitants. Guilt and loss swelled up within her. Four years ago, it had been her decision not to approach one Dr. Daniel Jackson with a job offer. Based on her experiences with the people of an alternate reality, she now believed that had Dr. Jackson been part of the SGA, the attack may well have been prevented.
She had made the wrong call--a horribly wrong one, if her hunch was correct. So many people had lost their lives. Jack had lost his life. Angrily Samantha brushed at her eyes. So. She had made a mistake. It was the past. All she could do now was try to correct it.
Dr. Jackson certainly hadn't been easy to track down. He'd struggled to find a job after the disastrous lecture she had witnessed. Eventually she had tracked him to a small college in Nevada (he apparently spoke over twenty languages; guilt struck again as she realized that he could have easily translated the warning of the attack). However, upon contacting the university, she had learned that Jackson spent every summer on a dig in Egypt or somewhere in the Middle East. Still trying to prove his theories, she supposed. Well, they certainly had been proven now.
When she heard that his last known location was Egypt, her heart had sunk. So much of Egypt had been destroyed . . . . But no, he hadn't been near the Mediterranean or any of the major cities. Communications with the dig had been knocked out at some point, but it was possible the attack was unrelated. Apparently their communications failed often. And anyway, Samantha wanted to make her offer in person.
She wasn't really sure what to expect. She had read Dr. Jackson's file. And she had briefly seen him at his career-ending lecture. Still, she had obviously not seen his vast potential. He could very well resent the Air Force's intrusion into his life and refuse the job.
Samantha frowned. When Colonel Maybourne, a morally ambiguous bean-counter, had learned about Dr. Jackson and his influence in the other reality, he had determined the doctor's presence a necessity to the SGA. Samantha feared that if Dr. Jackson refused her offer, Maybourne might have his NID minions abduct the man against his will.
While she had met the Dr. Jackson of the other reality, Samantha hadn't focused on him . . . hadn't thought to focus on him . . . until it was too late and they were gone. She had been fascinated to work with another version of herself, and the Jaffa had alternately interested and repulsed her, but her main focus had been on Jack. He had seemed so much like her husband . . .
Samantha bit her lip. She didn't want to think about Jack, or how that although he lived on in other dimensions, they would never be together again. She forced her mind back to the question of Dr. Jackson. He had wandered into her alternate's lab while they worked, holding two cups of coffee and obviously wanting to talk. He had blinked at seeing both of them, having obviously forgotten about Samantha's presence. After giving Major Carter her cup, he had sheepishly offered Samantha his own, and when she refused, asked them both if he could help or get them anything.
Samantha had snorted at that. How could an archeologist help two astrophysicists working on advanced technology? Seeing her incredulity, he had beaten a hasty retreat. Samantha had been surprised, upon turning back to her companion, to see the major glaring at her.
"What?"
The major had tensed, then clearly forced herself to relax. "There's no call to be rude to Daniel. He didn't mean help as in `doing it with us,' he was offering to be a sounding board for our ideas. Daniel and I help each other that way all the time . . . actually, he helps me far more than I help him." When Samantha's expression grew even more skeptical, her counterpart said, "Believe it or not, it's true. Daniel's such an intuitive thinker . . . he sees things the rest of us can't. Even without training in physics, he's taught me so much."
She paused. "I know, because I know you--" she smiled wryly, "that you don't like pity. But I do feel sorry for you, Doctor. Not only for your loss of your Jack, or because of the attack on your Earth, but also because you haven't had Daniel there to help you cope. He's my `little brother'; I can't imagine where I'd be without him." Major Carter had given Samantha a sad little smile, stretched, and returned her attention to the work at hand.
Samantha had noted that the whole base in the other reality seemed to have a soft spot for Dr. Jackson, despite his non-military status. It had both impressed and irritated her. She'd had to work hard to get the respect of the military personnel in her universe, and knew many of them would never like her. Yet, look at this civilian geek--of one of the soft sciences, no less--the wrong way, and half the mountain started shooting death glares at her. And just about every female employee Samantha had spoken to had gotten all dreamy-eyed at the mere mention of his name.
Samantha wondered how Dr. Jackson could possibly have garnered such reactions. And would it be the same in this universe, if he agreed to join the project? Samantha didn't want to open up to anyone--her soul hurt so badly since Jack's loss--yet a small inner part of her hoped she might be lucky enough to gain a brother in Dr. Jackson, as the other Samantha Carter had.
They were landing, in some little Egyptian village as old as time itself. From here, it was apparently a three hour jeep ride through the desert to the dig site. Samantha climbed into a Jeep so old it looked to be barely hanging together. Even the stoic airman driving her winced at the shudder the vehicle gave when he started it.
When the dig approached, it was a disappointment; several dusky little tents scattered around, almost lost in the huge swells of sand. Samantha was wilting in the blistering heat, and she was growing concerned that her driver had sunstroke.
Someone had obviously heard them coming. A figure stumbled out of one of the tents and approached the Jeep, squinting and holding a hand over his eyes. He was obviously Egyptian, and just as obviously confused by their appearance. He started jabbering away incomprehensibly, gesturing towards them and the sky. Samantha wondered if he somehow knew their purpose and was referring to the alien attack. She glanced at the airman, who shrugged. Holding up a hand, Samantha stopped the man and asked, "Dr. Daniel Jackson? Or . . ." she consulted the dig information for the head researcher's name. "Dr. Robert Rothman?"
This brought forth another burst of words, but also a "come, follow" gesture. After another glance at each other, the two Americans followed. Their guide led them into one of the tents and motioned them to stay. Then he was gone in a flash of sand-colored cloth.
The inside of the tent was very bare and utilitarian, but Samantha also saw several empty cases for very sophisticated cameras and what appeared to be other archeological tools. She brought out her thermos and offered some water to the grateful airman. A few minutes later her guide returned with an older man. He had short dark brown hair, a modest beard, and thick glasses.
He squinted at her and said, "I'm, uh, Dr. Rothman." He hesitated, stuck out his hand, then seemed to notice the muddy sand on it, and awkwardly withdrew it. "Uh, I, uh--" he pushed his glasses up his nose. "What can I do for you?"
Before Samantha could respond, their guide said something, gesturing to the sky again. Rothman nodded, and the man left. "What was he saying?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"What? Oh, Abir? He said a sandstorm is coming soon. You are very lucky you arrived when you did. The storms can be very dangerous. You should never venture this far into the desert without a native guide who can predict them." It struck Samantha as extremely incongruous that she had fought off an alien attack, traveled to an alternate reality, and been to another planet with those around her having only the highest respect for her abilities, and here, where she had least expected danger, she was being reprimanded like a child about to touch a hot stove.
Putting on her best business face, she said, "My name is Dr. Samantha Carter, and I'm here in my capacity as a civilian advisor to the United States Air Force. I'd like to have a word with Dr. Daniel Jackson. I was informed that he could be found here."
Dr. Rothman's eyes had widened at her words. "I'll be damned, he said softly. "This about that alien attack?"
"I'm under orders to only speak to Dr. Jackson, Sir."
Rothman blinked, then seemed to shake himself. "Uh, right. I'll get him." He eyed the small thermos the airman was holding, and turned to a cooler behind him, withdrawing two enormous water bottles and handing one to each of them. "You have to stay well hydrated," he told them, making it seem almost like a question, and ducked out of the tent.
Samantha was studying a detailed drawing of what appeared to be a tomb when the airman stiffened. A soft voice came from the entrance. "I'm Daniel Jackson." She turned to face him, quelling the butterflies in her stomach, and was instantly nailed by an intense blue gaze. She had met him before, yes, and in the alternate reality, but suddenly it struck her that she'd never had all his focus before. He was clearly intelligent and currently assessing her warily. "Dr. Samantha Carter," he murmured. "That is your name, right? I remember now."
Samantha blinked. This wasn't going at all how she had imagined. Dr. Jackson continued, "What can I do for you? Another translation, perhaps?" His voice was faintly ironic. Polite but distant.
Samantha swallowed. "I'm here to offer you a job." That caught him off guard, she could tell. The blue eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.
"And what would this job entail?"
Samantha hesitated, ready to form any number of answers. In the end what came from her mouth was something her husband would have been proud of. "Oh, you know. Going to other planets. Saving the world." That got a reaction. Dr. Jackson threw back his head and laughed.
"Dr. Jackson?" Finally, his laughs died away into a sigh.
"Please, call me Daniel." He was swiping at his eyes, still smiling a little. After composing himself, he grinned sheepishly and told her, "I suppose I shouldn't have laughed, but . . ." he shrugged helplessly.
Samantha hid her own smile. Her tone became businesslike. "Sir, before I go into any more detail I'll need you to sign a confidentiality waiver." By way of explanation, she added, "While the Stargate itself is no longer classified, much of the project's details still are." As Dr. Jackson started reading the agreement, Samantha turned to the airman. "Please wait outside."
Dr. Jackson looked up briefly and said, "No, don't wait outside." His gentle smile took the sting out of his words. "There's a storm coming. But Robert is right next door if you want to wait there." The airman looked to Samantha for approval, and after getting it, nodded stiffly and left. Dr. Jackson watched him go with a bemused expression. "Not much of a talker, is he?"
Samantha shrugged. "Just professional. Though I admit, I don't really know him. He just drove me out here."
After Dr. Jackson finished reading the agreement, he signed it and sat slid it over to her. He said softly, "I heard your program was recruiting only the best and brightest. And you'll notice, my resume is not exactly stellar. Why me? What do I have to offer?" Straight to the point. Great.
Samantha took a deep breath. They had debated whether to tell Dr. Jackson about the alternate reality and decided not to, at least not right away. It would just be too much to deal with. Instead she said, "We got a warning, about a month before the attack came. It appeared to be similar to Ancient Egyptian, but our translation team- which was admittedly not that great, because we didn't think it was important- took too long to translate it. By the time we realized what it meant, it was too late."
Dr. Jackson's eyes flicked over her as though he sensed there was something she was holding back. "And you think I could have translated it." He made it almost a question.
Samantha knew that he could. The alternate Daniel Jackson apparently had in less than five minutes. But she couldn't say that. "We got a good translation from you before."
Her companion seemed to consider that for a moment. "So . . . I would be a translator? Deciphering artifacts?"
Samantha hesitated. "Not exactly." He raised his eyebrows. Samantha said, "Actually, we believe you would work well on a first contact field team. Specifically, you would gate to previously unknown planets, help communicate with the local population and assess and technological or cultural information that planet has to offer."
He seemed to be thinking over her words, and said finally, "Sounds dangerous. And I repeat, why me?" Oh, yes. He definitely knew she was hiding something. Well, she couldn't very well tell him that an alternate version of himself excelled at the job, could she?
Instead, she said carefully, "A lot of the coming experts will be older and less mobile than you. This makes sense; it takes time to reach the top of your field. However, physically, people on field teams will need to be younger. You also aren't parked behind a desk, as many of your colleagues are. I mean, look at this place!" He smiled at that as she explained, "You're accustomed to isolated conditions, `living it rough,' per se, and are physically fit. All the teams will need a linguist, so the number of languages you speak is a huge asset, made even better by your knowledge of human history and behavior." She paused. "You know about threat assessment; you just warned us about the storm. And finally-" she met his eyes, "-you were way ahead of your colleagues in your own field. Yes, you were disgraced and driven away, but now the entire world, not just academia, knows that you were right, even if they don't know your name." Keeping her eyes even with his, Samantha finished, "We should have hired you four years ago. We didn't then. Please, join us now." Well, she'd made her pitch.
Dr. Jackson blinked, looking dazed. "You have a remarkably high opinion of me." He frowned. "What troubles me is how obviously you are hiding something. I've always distrusted the military and I admit freely that I'm unnerved by the way you're obviously editing what to tell me." Samantha's heart sank. She wondered if she should warn him about the threat Colonel Maybourne posed, but realized a vague threat would make Dr. Jackson even more adamant.
"When do I start?" Samantha raised shocked eyes to his. He smiled at her shyly, looking like a sheepish little kid. He even had dimples.
"Does this mean you agree?" She couldn't keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
He shrugged. "It's not like my job now is so wonderful. And despite my misgivings, it sounds amazing. I would like to finish up this dig, though. It wouldn't be fair to Robert otherwise."
"How much longer will the dig last, Dr. Jackson?"
"Oh, another few weeks. And please, call me Daniel."
"I think that can be arranged, Dr.--Daniel."
"Dr. Carter?" Samantha looked up somewhat impatiently. It was difficult to explain what they knew of Stargate physics at the best of times; interruptions did not help.
"Yes?"
"General Hammond would like a word." There was a significant pause. "Immediately." Hammond's aid looked extremely worried; never a good thing for someone whose superior oversaw the protection of an entire planet. Samantha quickly dismissed the recruits she had been lecturing to and hurried to the general's office.
Despite the apparent urgency of the summons, the general didn't even look up as she entered. "Sir?"
"Dr. Carter." He turned to her, his eyes weary. "I've just been informed that several documents retrieved through the Stargate have disappeared. The documents are all ones that were in languages we were unable to decipher, including the ones from P7X-042."
Samantha blinked, processing the information. "The Russians or Chinese?" Both nations had been especially angry they had been kept in the dark about the Stargate. P7X-042 had been a deserted planet SG-1 had explored. The machines they had found seemed extremely advanced, and since there were no native peoples to get in the way, it had first appeared to be a great success for the fledgling program. However, no one had managed to make the machines work . . . or even figure out what they were supposed to do. There had been a huge archive of papers . . . which no one was able to translate. After learning about the planet, both the Russians and the Chinese had insinuated that their scientists would be able to do what those of the Air Force had not. However, the United States had not yet allowed any civilians to view the technology and documents, and certainly hadn't authorized representatives of other countries to see them. Technically, the Stargate belonged to the world, but in truth, the Air Force and the U.S. in general didn't want to share.
General Hammond said, "Apparently it happened almost a week ago. Our diplomats were sure it was one of those two, and were not-so-discretely putting pressure on the Russian and Chinese governments to confess." He paused. "But now, it appears something entirely different is going on." He leveled a direct look at Samantha. "Daniel Jackson is missing."
"What?"
"Usually someone from the dig comes to the nearby village once a week. After two and a half weeks with no trips, a family member of one of the local workers got concerned and went out to the site." Hammond paused, and finally said with difficulty, "It was a massacre. The local works, the graduate students, the head archeologist . . . all dead, killed by P-90s. And Dr. Jackson was gone, like he had never been there."
Samantha said faintly, "The Russians and Chinese don't know about Daniel Jackson."
Hammond went on relentlessly. "Nearly a week ago, Harry Maybourne boarded a plane bound to Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. From there he chartered a private plane to Wadi Halfa, a city on the Egyptian border, and interestingly enough, less than 100 miles from the dig site." He gave Samantha a significant look.
"Oh, God." Samantha's mind reeled. What had that idiot Maybourne done? Didn't he know they had already recruited Dr. Jackson for the SGA? She stiffened, and said quietly, "Sir, I was aware of Maybourne's interest in Jackson, but never thought he'd resort to something like this--I was only concerned about what the Colonel would do if Dr. Jackson refused to join us."
The general nodded. "He may not have started work here yet, but Dr. Jackson is still one of us. We'll find him, Sam. I already have a team running down leads and investigating where he could have been taken. Everyone is very optimistic. The colonel was in too much of a hurry to adequately cover his tracks. And Dr. Jackson will be considered too valuable to be killed."
Samantha nodded, but said gravely, "Oh, I'm sure he's still alive, but I wouldn't be too sure of his condition. Daniel didn't strike me as the type to compromise his morals just because he's told to do so. In fact, when threatened, he's more likely to dig in his heels and become even more resistant." She groaned. "I should have warned him about Maybourne. But I was afraid he would interpret it as me threatening him."
General Hammond was sympathetic, but didn't make empty reassurances. He felt guilty for the fate of Dr. Jackson and the rest of the archeologists. It had been the wrong people getting too much information too fast that had targeted Jackson. He had briefly met the alternate reality's Daniel Jackson, and had almost immediately felt parental towards the gentle young man. He had been looking forward to meeting his reality's version. After assigning Dr. Carter to the team tracking Jackson down, he absently paged through the personnel files on his desk. God help them all.
Sick. He was definitely sick. And his glasses were gone. Daniel squinted. Had he actually been at a party? Damn. He couldn't remember a thing. If he had to get drunk enough to feel this bad, could he at least keep the pleasant memories of getting there?
"Ah, Dr. Jackson, you're awake." Daniel could hear the sardonic smile. "I was becoming quite concerned. Evidently you have quite a glass jaw."
Despite his blinding headache, Daniel strove to look at the man before him. As he took in the pudgy blurred figure, his memory came rushing back. This man wanted him to translate something. He'd claimed to be from "Stargate Command." Daniel had questioned him . . . Dr. Carter hadn't mentioned a visitor, and he'd spoken with her two days earlier about his flight back to the states when the dig was finished.
When his story failed, the man grew more menacing, making vague accusations of treason and of his duties to his country. He'd tried to force Daniel to leave with him, but Robert and some of the others and seen what was happening. Perhaps Daniel wasn't kosher in the academic world, but he got along with locals well at digs, the archeology students respected his teaching skills, and Robert was his best friend. They had tried to help him.
Gods, no. Unbidden, the memory of them being gunned down flashed before Daniel's eyes. One massive soldier had been more than enough to keep him safely to one side. They'd died because of him. It was his fault.
Daniel had barely glanced at the documents the man had presented him. He had no idea what they said, and he would do nothing to help his friends' killers. He sincerely hoped the man had been lying about his association with the Stargate project. He hoped he had not misjudged Samantha Carter.
Daniel glared weakly at the man, wanting to spit at him but realizing the futility of it. Besides, he hadn't had water in--how long? How long had he been there? Was anyone even looking for him? Probably not, he acknowledged ruefully. Since their communications equipment failed often, the dig was used to profound isolation from the rest of the world. The only ones to know he was gone were the others at the dig. And they were dead.
Stuck in his bitter self-recrimination, Daniel didn't acknowledge his tormentors. He didn't even pretend to look at the documents they thrust before him. They were yelling, but he ignored them. He remembered, faintly, hiding in the closet in one of his foster homes, dreaming himself back in Egypt with his parents.
When the first blow landed, he didn't even react.
If Janet Fraiser hadn't been so concerned about the situation, she would have laughed at the expressions of the townsfolk. Clearly, the natives of Griggs, Oklahoma, weren't accustomed to having strangers in town. Yet, suddenly, military trucks were rumbling in the streets and helicopters were landing in nearby fields.
Janet looked over at her friend, one Dr. Samantha Carter. She was really worried about Sam. She hadn't dealt properly with Jack's death, and seeing her husband's alternate; healthy, whole, and most empathetically not in love with her, would mess anyone up. This Daniel Jackson was more than the SGA's great new hope; he was someone not connected with the shambles of Sam's previous life, and he was the first person Sam had even remotely reached out to after Jack's death. Sam obviously blamed herself for his abduction. Whether or not she deserved blame, Janet didn't know. However, if Dr. Jackson wasn't all right, her fear for Sam's mental health would go up by a factor of ten. At least.
As they pulled up at the warehouse they had tracked Maybourne to, Janet prayed he hadn't somehow found out they were coming. They'd already tracked him to two other locations, one in Utah and one in Arizona, but they'd arrived to find the locations recently vacated. At the last, there had been a disturbing amount of blood. No one spoke it out loud, but everyone knew whose blood it was. Sam had visibly turned paler, but she had said nothing.
As the soldiers ran inside, weapons ready, Janet gathered together her medical supplies, and she and Sam both listened to the action inside. When they heard Maybourne surrender, neither spoke aloud, but the look that passed between them said plenty. Suddenly the radio crackled to life. "Doc, come in."
Janet jabbed at her radio. "Dr. Fraiser here."
"Unknown civilian down." Presumably, that was Dr. Jackson. "We're in the back room. Come on in, the place is secure."
As she hurried inside, Janet shot Sam a look and said briskly, "How is he?"
There was a crackle of static, then, "Alive. Unconscious. Beat up." As he spoke, the women hurried into the room. Releasing the radio, the man commented, "They really did a number on him. I don't know how they expected him to translate in this condition, but . . ." he trailed off, giving Maybourne a contemptuous look that spoke volumes about what he thought of the man.
Janet winced when she saw the beaten man. His face was swollen, so she couldn't distinguish his features well, but Samantha's soft intake of breath told her his identity. Janet fished out her penlight and knelt by Daniel Jackson's side. She silently cursed when she saw that his pupils were slightly different sizes and didn't react normally to the light. He definitely had a concussion, though how severe she didn't yet know.
She saw that he now seemed semi-aware, so she said in a soft, reassuring voice, "Please stay calm, Dr. Jackson. My name is Janet Fraiser. I'm a doctor. You've been injured, but everything is all right now. Just relax. You're going to be fine." His lashes fluttered and she knew he wasn't really following her. As she began a check for imminently dangerous injuries or ones that would prevent his being moved, Janet told her friend, "Talk to him. Try to keep him awake." Sam nodded and moved to Dr. Jackson's other side. She lightly held a hand and started rambling about some new development in astrophysics. Janet refrained from saying that advanced astrophysics would not have been her choice to keep someone awake.
Several hours later, Janet and Samantha reported to the General's office. Hammond went straight to the point. "How is he?"
Janet flipped open her file. "He was beaten quite severely and has a moderate concussion. He also appears to be malnourished and dehydrated. I wouldn't even hazard a guess as to his mental state. However, none of his injuries were life-threatening--as we suspected, Maybourne thought he was too valuable to risk permanent damage. Barring any complications, physically he should be fine."
"Has he said anything?" the General asked.
"No. We had to set three broken fingers and tape some cracked ribs, so we sedated him. In addition, I doubt he's had much in the way of natural rest since he was taken. I expect he'll sleep quite a while."
General Hammond nodded and turned his attention to Samantha. "I have word from the men interrogating Colonel Maybourne and his accomplices. One of his hired thugs confessed, but the other killed himself rather than be captured and Maybourne is quote, "disturbingly smug." Did you have news?"
"Yes. The paper trail that led us to Daniel is disappearing. Someone is helping the evidence disappear. I saved most of the information to disk, but whoever it is, is doing a very thorough job. It's a good thing we have a verbal confession." They discussed the aspects of the case a little more, and when the meeting concluded, Samantha went with Janet to the infirmary.
She sat by Daniel Jackson's bedside, trying to remind herself that it wasn't as bad as it looked. Although she wasn't really listening, she faintly heard Janet's nurses appraising the injured man and wondering if he was single.
Samantha hadn't been able to sleep, well, for a long time, but particularly during the last few days. She intended to sit by Jackson's bedside until he woke up, but was asleep within minutes.
For a moment, when he woke up, Daniel was completely confused. Then again, it seemed like every time he woke up, he was in a different place. This place, though, didn't look like another warehouse or interrogation chamber. It looked like . . . a hospital? Daniel blinked as he recognized Samantha Carter asleep in a chair next to him.
It appeared that he'd been wrong; someone was aware of what had happened to him. It was such a relief to be warm again, and not confronted by sneering faces the moment he opened his eyes, and--in a bed. He glanced at Samantha Carter, wondering if he should wake her up. If she stayed in that position very long she'd be pretty uncomfortable when she woke up.
As it turned out, he didn't have to decide. Samantha stretched and opened her eyes, looking surprised when she saw that Daniel was awake. She smiled at him, then seemed embarrassed and looked away.
Daniel studied his bandaged hand for a moment, then said without looking at her, "What happened?" Lifting his head, he listened intently as she explained who Colonel Maybourne was and his actions. She apologized profusely for not warning Daniel about him.
Finally, Daniel cut her off, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's all right. I forgive you." When she looked surprised, he said a bit sheepishly, "You're right. If you had tried to warn me about me, I just would have distrusted you." He paused. "Though I do wonder why Maybourne felt I could help him--you made a pretty good case for why I should join the SGA, but there are plenty of talented, respected linguists out there. Why did he target me?"
Samantha knew he expected an answer. She finally said reluctantly, "There is a reason. And I promise, we will tell you about it. It will just be . . . ah, overwhelming, I think. Please, be patient just a little longer."
Daniel supposed he'd have to live with that. And in any case, Samantha was spared any further questions, as a nurse noticed that Daniel was awake and ran to get Doctor Fraiser.
The next few weeks went by very quickly for Daniel. He found an apartment and started working on translations right away, including the pages that Maybourne had tried to force him to translate. It was difficult, yes, but he was making good progress on it. Unfortunately, so far it only seemed to contain rhetoric about how superior the technology was, and not what it did or how to use it.
He was surprised by how nice everyone was. He was actually treated much better by the military veterans of the program than his fellow academics! It didn't take long for Daniel to realize that these people clearly knew whatever information Samantha and Maybourne also access too. It was frustrating for him to not know, but as he got to know Samantha he trusted that her decision was the correct one.
And to be honest, he was too busy to worry about it much. The more he thought about the possibilities of the Stargate, the more excited he became. Finally came the day he had been waiting for; his first trip through the Stargate. "Nervous?" Wozniak asked with a smile.
"Yes," Daniel said honestly. He was going with his team, SG-1, to the first planet visited by Earth, called Abydos. Although the original team had been forced to resort to play-acting with the natives, they were definitely originally from Egypt, Daniel hoped he'd be able to talk to them.
SG-1. Part of him couldn't believe he was really here. Samantha squeezed his shoulder and he smiled at her. He was glad she was on the team with him; he would have felt intimidated if he was the only civilian. And while he admittedly didn't know anything about astrophysics, it was fun bouncing ideas around with Sam. The team leader, Charlie Kawalsky, was a good man, with a sharp sense of humor but who genuinely cared for his team. He'd forced Daniel to practice weapons and self-defense again and again, not only for Daniel's safety, but the whole teams'. Daniel also knew that Kawalsky had been the best friend of Sam's husband Jack, who died in the attack on Earth. Sam swore that Daniel would have liked Jack, though secretly Daniel wasn't so sure--Sam's husband seemed, if the stories about him were to be believed, to be a hardened military man who wouldn't have much time for someone like Daniel.
Matt Wozniak, the last team member, was the biggest man Daniel had ever seen, and it was 100% muscle. His sense of humor was so dry that it went over most peoples' heads--including Kowalsky's, though he claimed otherwise. Wozniak was interested in archeology and deeply impressed by Daniel's knowledge. Wozniak was the one to start calling Daniel "Little Brother" a nickname soon taken up by the whole team. And Wozniak was zealously protective--some marines who thought it was funny to harass Daniel had found themselves in the infirmary.
When the Stargate activated, Daniel could only stare at it in wonder. It looked like something out of a science fiction novel, and Daniel suddenly thought that maybe each life did have a purpose, and that all of his had been leading up to this. He had difficulty swallowing, and wondered what his parents would think if they could see him now. Drawing in a determined breath, Daniel stepped into the shimmering event horizon.
It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, a rollercoaster of stars and a sense of tumbling speed. Abruptly he was flung out onto hard sand, with shivers and a churning stomach. He wobbled unsteadily for a moment, hoping he wouldn't throw up. He wiped off the light frost on his glasses and looked around.
From the first mission's reports he knew they were in a replica of the Great Pyramid. There was nothing especially distinctive about the room. Daniel nodded to his teammates, indicating that he was ready. Together they stepped out into the blinding sun, Wozniak out front and Kawalsky behind the two civilians.
Kawalsky knew the way to the city, Nagada--he was the only survivor left now from that first mission. As they walked, Daniel kept glancing back at the pyramid. Magnificent.
The Abydonians knew that more visitors were coming from Earth, but not exactly when. As they entered the city, an excited crowd surrounded them. Several attempted to touch Sam's hair, and she had difficulty evading them. Daniel tried greeting them in ancient Egyptian as he knew it, but they didn't seem to understand.
"Skaara!" Kawalsky stopped, lowered his weapon, and embraced a boy with glittering black eyes and long, dust-filled braids.
Skaara asked eagerly, "O'Neill?" That was Sam's husband . . . .
Kawalsky shook his head and gestured to the others. "Sam, Matt, and Daniel." Then he made an eating gesture.
Skaara nodded eagerly and waved for them to follow. Daniel trotted a few steps so he could walk beside the boy. As they walked, Daniel pointed to various objects on the path, saying the name in ancient Egyptian and then looking to Skaara for the local version. The results fascinated him.
The people of Abydos spoke ancient Egyptian, but over time the pronunciation had changed so significantly that they could not understand each other. However, Daniel quickly began to spot patterns in the way the pronunciation was different. He was pretty sure he could speak it, but decided to listen to a few more Abydonians speak before attempting it himself.
Skaara ushered them in to a large tent, and immediately several young women hurried to give them some water. Then they were ushered to sit in a large circle, where several platters of what appeared to be food were displayed. Daniel turned to Kawalsky. "I'm going to listen a bit to the conversations around the table, see if I can understand it." Kawalsky nodded, pleased that Daniel seemed so confident.
A female voice caught Daniel's ear. ". . . at him. Hair like the dunes, eyes like the sky . . . do you think he is mated?"
"He must be." The second voice was light and musical. "Maybe to the woman warrior. Perhaps the light-haired ones travel in pairs."
The first voice agreed. "He is smaller than the other male warriors. Perhaps the light-haired ones are weaker."
Her companion disagreed. "No, he is fit, and was not worn by the journey between the Chapaa'ai and here." With a start, Daniel realized that they had to be talking about him--he was the smallest man in the team, and the only man with blue eyes. He started turning red, and noticed Kawalsky looking at him curiously.
"Little Bro?"
Daniel said softly, "Well, I can understand them."
Wozniak looked awed--actually, the whole team did. "What did you hear?"
"They, uh, a couple of women are--speculating, about whether we're single." His teammates chuckled and Daniel sighed. If they only knew . . . .
"Anything else?" Kawalsky asked.
"Well, if looking around hadn't clued you in, light complexions and eyes don't occur here. Sam and I are something of a curiosity."
Sam smiled, remembering the people trying to touch her hair. "I think I got that."
Eventually, an old man that Kawalsky identified as Kasuf, the leader stood. "The people of the first world do honor us by consenting to share their meal with us once again. We thank them most deeply for delivering us from the vile Ra, and honor them in our new history." He then gestured for them to begin eating.
Instead, Daniel drew his attention and then bowed his head. "Great Leader, I am one called Daniel, and among my people it is my role to communicate. I came hoping I would have the skill to speak to you and understand." The moment Daniel began speaking the native language, all the Abydonians had stopped and stared.
Kasuf was clearly shaken, but said graciously, "This is most pleasing news. Long have we wanted to ask your people about themselves, and share our history with you. Now we may rejoice most fully!" Daniel translated this for his companions, but soon found himself besieged by questions on all sides.
Seeing that the commotion was making it impossible for Daniel to eat, Kasuf invited him to eat in a more private chamber, but cautioned him that it was quiet because it was the chamber where people went to mourn the dead, and he might not be alone. Daniel explained the offer to Kawalsky, and once the team leader had given his OK, gratefully followed Kasuf.
The room was empty when Daniel arrived. It was very still, especially compared to the noise in the big tent. Daniel said again, "I thank you very much. Later I will be happy to answer questions, and have many of my own."
"I am pleased to hear this." And Kasuf left him in peace.
However, only a few moments after he left, a slight woman entered the room. She swiftly pushed down the veil that concealed her face, and Daniel drew in a breath--she was absolutely stunning. "You understand us?" The light, musical voice was instantly familiar.
"Yes. What is your name?"
`They call me Sha're."
That night as they prepared to go to sleep, Daniel was very quiet. "Hey, Little Brother, what's on your mind?"
Daniel said absently, "I met Skaara's sister, Sha're. Her husband was killed when Apophis attacked."
Kawalsky blinked. "Think I met her. Real beauty, isn't she?"
Daniel nodded. "Very smart, too, and curious about the Stargate. It seems that several members of her extended family were abducted by Apophis. She's the one who organized the Abydonians to help us defeat Ra, and now she wants to know how to travel through the Stargate, so that she can search for her family. Failing that, she wants us to look for them, and have someone from here living on Earth, in order to learn more about us, and be able to bargain with us on behalf of this planet."
"How very cosmopolitan of her," Wozniak observed. "Very forward-looking."
"And very left-wing," Daniel told them. "She wants to be the representative on Earth. She apparently wasn't happy in her marriage and doesn't want to immediately marry again once her mourning period is over, as is expected. She ordered me to start teaching her English."
Kawalsky looked thoughtful. "An Abydonian on Earth? Well, I don't think anyone had thought of that. It certainly would be interesting, though. I'll run it by General Hammond when we get back.
They stayed a few days with the Abydonians. Daniel was in his element, asking questions about various tools, activities and customs. He spent a great deal of time with Kasuf, Skaara and Sha're. They seemed to him to be the boldest of the Abydonians and the most likely to want to try new things. Kasuf was a wise leader, who understood people well. Skaara was enthusiastic and brash, but Daniel could clearly see traces of Kasuf in those black eyes.
As for Sha're? She was smart, curious, beautiful, questioning, sensual, and talented. Daniel was completely awed by her, and didn't understand why she seemed to have the same reaction to him. They spent hours together, talking and sharing stories. Daniel was shocked when he found himself telling Sha're about the death of his parents in a museum accident. He'd never talked about it to anyone before . . . .
A large crowd of Abydonians accompanied them back to the Stargate, urging them, especially Daniel, to come back soon. Kasuf and his family went with them into the pyramid. As Daniel started to dial the address for home, Sha're caught his sleeve.
"You will return, Dan'yel?" Daniel looked at her, and was surprised to see that her eyes seemed wet.
He took her hands and said sincerely, "I will return." Then he turned away and stepped through the Stargate. That night, the people in his dreams spoke in Abydonian.
Postscript--
Sha're got her wish. A few months after her official time of mourning was over, she was able to come to Earth. At first she lived on the base, but expressed an interest in getting her own apartment. A few weeks later, she proposed to Daniel. He nearly dropped the artifact he was holding and suggested that they try dating first. His face was red for days.
Sam and Sha're quickly became friends as well, especially as Sha're's English improved. Sam figured out fast that Sha're was a passionate woman who knew herself and what she wanted extremely well. Sam had no doubt that it would not be long before Sha're and Daniel were married.
Several months later, Sam asked the newly engaged Daniel Jackson to meet her in one of the science labs. "Sam?"
"Ah, Daniel, you're here." She motioned for him to sit down in the only chair in the room. He looked curiously at her and at the seemingly empty frame beside her.
"What can I do for you?"
Sam smiled, though the smile was a little sad. "I promised you once that I would tell you why we wanted you in the SGA. Have I got a story for you." Gesturing to the frame, she said, "This, my friend, is called a Quantum Mirror . . . ."
The End
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