AUTHOR: Celeste
SEQUEL: This is the sequel to Tested Loyalty and
Where Memories Flow, both of which are required reading for this third story in
The A’garja Series.
STATUS: Completed
WARNINGS: Minor Character Deaths, Language.
SPOILERS: Without pinning this series down too much it might help
readers to understand the timelines. Jack entered the Delta Universe in Tested
Loyalty after Tangent, Season 4. Events that take place in the Gamma Universe after
Tangent do include Failsafe, but both Tested Loyalty and its sequels assume a
very different set of events (due both to the absence of Jack and the deal
struck by Earth with Apophis in Tested Loyalty). So, unless specific events are
referred to, it is best to assume the latter part of Season Four through to
Season 7 did not take place although general canon storylines are picked up
including 2001, Menace, Unnatural Selection, Cure and early Anubis. Spoilers
include Solitudes, In the Line of Duty, Jolinar’s Memories, One Hundred Days,
The Fifth Race, Window of Opportunity, Shades of Grey, Children of the God’s,
Serpent’s Lair, Full Circle and Pretense. Brief spoilers to Season 7 and a very
flippant spoiler to Atlantis which will not cause you any concern, if you even
notice it!
CONTENT
LEVEL: 13+ (Shamelessly Hero Jack, Jack/Sam,
Daniel/Janet, Cassie/Other, H/C, Action/Adventure and Angst)
ARCHIVE: Jackfic. Others please ask.
SUMMARY: Jack has attracted the attention of the Nitan
Emperor!
DISCLAIMER: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of
Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions,
and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no
money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original
characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story
may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by
the author.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Many thanks
to my wonderful and very patient betas, Lorri, Anny and Donna who have helped
to fix and polish this story off ! Their help and advice has been invaluable.
All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.
by Celeste
“Oh, no you don’t!” Cassie
sang out to a startled looking Daniel as she blocked his entrance into her
family home.
“Don’t tell me you believe
in all that superstition!” her soon-to-be stepfather protested, leaning
casually against the doorjamb, his arms folding in front of him with a stubborn
expression lurking in twinkling blue myopic eyes. He watched Cassie take in a
mock breath of air at the sheer hypocrisy of his statement.
“I don’t believe you! You’ve
made a living out of superstition!”
The now eminent and recently
renowned archaeologist and linguist on an intergalactic scale took retaliatory
umbrage in direct proportion to the challenge issued by the glowing, beautiful
young woman clad in a simple pink strappy T-shirt and very tight-fitting jeans.
“Well if you’re comparing the study of ancient history and antiquities
to modern day wedding traditions,” Daniel began, taking a deep breath. Cassie
giggled, waiting gleefully for the gems that were about to follow. “I feel
obliged to inform you, that I do not intend to carry your mother off in a sack.
The only evil spirit lurking in this vicinity is the one trying to prevent me
from seeing the love of my life and I
already know what she looks like. And, despite the ever increasing bump she has
developed recently, I have not yet been attacked by second thoughts.
Furthermore...”
“I heard that, Dr. Jackson!” came the indignant sound of a very annoyed
Janet Fraiser.
“Oops,” Daniel grimaced,
snapping to attention as Cassie stepped back, her face alight with mischief. A
fiery red head appeared behind her daughter, her left hand resting protectively
over a swollen belly that did not in any way detract from its owner’s stunning
appearance. Being in the military, and therefore required to maintain a general
level of fitness, had ensured Dr. Janet Fraiser possessed strong stomach
muscles and she was not as large as might have been expected of a seven month
pregnant woman on the petite side. In fact, she looked radiant and, thinking
rapidly, Jackson decided he should tell her so.
“You look great,” he told
her, ignoring the retching motions that seemed to suddenly overwhelm the
teenager watching them. Janet threw her daughter a mock glare until Cassie beat
a hasty retreat. As she turned back to him, he watched with fascination her
anger melt away.
“Furthermore?” she inquired,
eyebrows raised.
“I was going to say the
tradition of not seeing the bride applied to the day of the wedding,” Daniel
finished his lecture, “but I suspect the wretch already knew that.”
“She did,” Janet agreed,
letting him in and accepting the kiss he dropped on her lips lightly. “Cassie’s
been researching the Net.”
“She has time to research? I
though you would both be racing around with dresses and things.”
“Daniel, this wedding has
been in the planning for months. If you remember, we intended to marry four
months ago...”
“I know, I know... We went
to watch the Grand Foruma Assembly ratify the Furling Alliance...”
“It’s not easy getting dates
rebooked,” Janet continued as she led the way into the kitchen and moved to
pour them both a coffee. He accepted the proffered mug gratefully. “But the
delay has given us more time to organize and, best of all, my dress did not
need much altering. Thank God I chose a design that catered for a growing
baby.”
Jackson laughed at his
future wife’s smug expression.
“I meant what I said, Janet.
You look radiant.”
He sipped the hot steaming
coffee, watching her cheeks turn a slight pink and a wave of happiness swept
through him that he could give her such pleasure.
“My only concern is ensuring
that the best man turns up!” Janet laughed. “I’ve never known a man disappear
in a flash of white light so many times before.”
“He’ll be there,” Daniel promised, swearing he would personally kill
Jack, if he managed to land himself in trouble and set off a chain of events to
derail this second attempt of theirs at marriage. It wasn’t really the
A’garja’s fault, he knew. But it was the consistency with which Jack managed to
attract trouble that left them reeling as they fought to catch up. Only to
discover that their friend had surged ahead in such a new and unimaginable
direction that Jackson would pinch an arm, any arm, just to check he wasn’t
dreaming.
It was the sheer magnitude
of the changes that had befallen the former SG1 commander that drove his own
current obsession, and, for the past month, he had been immersed in research at
the Foruma Institute. He was convinced
that in the depths of the accumulated knowledge the Foruma scientists had
collected over millennia, he would find clues to explain how a human from
Earth, subjected to the device of the Ancients, could prove the fulfillment of
an ancient prophecy in another universe.
He was getting close to something. He could sense it, and so, in a
brief moment of madness, he had considered suggesting that they postpone their
wedding until the baby was born. But one look at his fiancée’s excited
expression, when she had told him they had received confirmation of their
wedding date back on Earth, and he knew he could not, dare not, even think it.
Fortunately, for once, timing had been perfect. The A’garja’s presence had been
requested on their homeworld and arranging a ride home had proved very easy.
Mind, it helped having the matron of honor married to the most important man in
the Delta Universe. Even if the man himself didn’t realize it.
“Where’s he now? Sam
mentioned on the phone something about visiting his parents?”
“Yes, something they had to
tell him, apparently.”
“Thank God the Foruma have
come up with a cure for Mr. O’Neill’s genetic condition. Catherine was
thrilled. Poor woman. For a while, they believed they had lost both their
children.”
“Must be quite a shock
discovering instead that you have a family that spans across two universes,”
Jackson observed, putting down his coffee and pulling her into his arms. He
could smell the fresh scent of strawberry in her newly washed hair. She had
borrowed Cassie’s shampoo again. “Have you thought about where you want our
baby to be born?”
He could feel his bride for
tomorrow shaking with laughter. She looked up at him, brown eyes twinkling.
“You mean as in Earth, Halla
or hyperspace?”
He grimaced, not liking the
thought of the third option.
“What a weird life we lead!”
“And you wouldn’t miss it
for the world, Dr. Daniel Jackson,” Janet pointed out knowingly. “Would you?”
***
“Jonathan?”
O’Neill looked up, a soft
smile curving his mouth. His elderly mother stretched out a hand and he took it,
rising in an easy movement from the rock on which he had been perched. With a
slight sense of shock, he realized he had lost almost ten minutes just gazing
out at the surroundings of his parents’ retirement home in the hills of South
Dakota. They had chosen a beautiful spot
to see out their twilight years and Jack had felt a small sense of peace steal
over him, knowing that they were safe and settled. No longer grieving for the
loss of their first-born. Just for his sister, Lauren, who had died in a car crash
two years previously, leaving three young children with their distraught
father. The news had left Jack shaken. He had barely known the kids,
maintaining his distance ever since he had lost his parent’s first grandson
through his own carelessness. Sara had broken the news to him on his
overwhelmed parents’ behalf when she realized that no one had thought to tell
him. It had been difficult to handle in full Foruma regalia with the world’s
eyes on him.
Today, Jack was dressed
casually in beige slacks, with a T-shirt beneath the slowly weathering black
leather jacket that Sam had given him on his first return to Earth from the
Delta Universe. With brown leather shoes on his feet, he looked the perfect
picture of a visiting son, except the entire world knew his face and visiting
home would never quite be the same again. He had arrived in a flash of white
light, directly into his parents, living room, startling them despite the
advance warning they had been given. His father had shook his head, and then retreated
into his den.
“Mom,” he greeted her now.
She led him down the path
into the woods that lay to the rear of their property. She was quite spry for
the age of seventy-six, negotiating the tree roots that pitted their way with
ease. Still, Jack kept a firm hand on her elbow. She didn’t speak again until
they had entered a broad, leaf covered avenue with its a canopy of lightly
swaying tree tops forming an ever-moving dappling of sunlight on the ground.
“He’s thrilled to see you,”
his mother began, and Jack frowned, sensing suddenly that he was about to hear
something he was not going to like. “But his mind is not so good now. It
wanders a little and as you get older, you remember more from the past. Your
arrival has prompted memories that we had buried long ago.” O’Neill’s heart
sank. Seemed it was a family trait. “But now we feel you should know the
truth.”
“Truth?” Jack asked,
stopping in his tracks. His mother turned back towards him, her gray hair
contrasting with the blue eyes that burned brightly in a lightly-powdered,
creased face. He could detect the lines of suffering around her eyes, the hint
of the loss she had suffered and guilt tore at him. He could see she was
gathering herself and he let her take both of his hands in hers. Her eyes
searched his, looking for something unfathomable.
“We love you, Jonathan.
We’re so proud of you. Even before all this.”
The pause was heavy. He
swallowed.
“But?” he prompted.
“You are not our son. Not by
blood.” She paused slightly, a slight tremble running through her as he stood
there, frozen, unable to quite take in the import of what she was telling him.
The only mother he had ever known, Catherine O’Neill, hurried on, her words
beginning to run into one another. “We adopted you. I was having problems
conceiving and when news came through of a newborn that had been left abandoned
in a hospital, we applied to adopt you
immediately. Things were a little simpler back then. We were settled, well
known in the community, and the authorities wanted to place you in a family
home as quickly as possible.”
Time seemed to slow down,
the song of birds suddenly loud in his ears as he felt his senses intensify,
and Jack struggled to contain the spiraling surge of energy that his mother was
unconsciously provoking within him. Part of him wanted to reject what she was
saying. The news was too sudden. Too unexpected. He heard her gasp, as his
mother suddenly released his hands, drawing his attention down towards them.
Quickly, he acted to dampen the leakage that was shooting tiny currents between
the tips of his fingers. His hands returned to their normal color but when he
looked up, his mother, for he could think of her no other way, was staring at
him, wide eyes frightened, fingers pressed against her lips.
“Mom, I’m sorry. Are you
alright?”
His obvious concern seemed
to reassure her and she nodded, her hand falling away as a slight smile formed.
She studied him and then seemed to make a decision.
“I’m fine. Like a static
charge. Your father is right. You need to know this. Let’s go back and we will
both explain over dinner. I’ve got your favorite pot roast in the oven.”
Still reeling over his
mother’s revelations, Jack simply fell in with her wishes, years of respect
overcoming the roar of confusion. He wondered if he would be able to eat,
although he did remember his mom made a mean pot roast. Pizza and takeout had
never crossed her table in all the years of his childhood and youth.
“Kirana is cute,” Catherine
commented, as they slowly made their way back.
“Yes,” he agreed, thrown by
the sudden change of conversation.
“I can see how much you and
Samantha love her, as if she were your own.”
Jack relaxed and grinned
with unconcealed amusement, turning to look down at the upturned face of the
wise and canny old woman who had raised him. Blue eyes twinkled.
“You did this to me when I
was a boy too,” he admonished her fondly, noting, at the same time that his
mother still insisted on calling Sam by her full name. It was a beautiful name,
fitting for her wonderful daughter-in-law, Catherine O’Neill had told his wife
at the reception. Selmak had, unusually, broken into the conversation to offer
her full agreement and an immediate bond had formed between both his parents
and the Tok’Ra. To Jack’s amazement, Sam had simply blushed and acquiesced to
his parent’s insistence that they be allowed to use her full name. Even more
surprising, she seemed touched, understanding that her new mother-in-law
genuinely meant her compliment. Jacob had later explained that her mother had
also refused to call her ‘Sam’, and it seemed both Catherine and Selmak filled
a slot in Sam’s life that had been empty for too long. His mother had always
been very perceptive. A trait he had never inherited, now he knew why.
“You’re still our son,
Jonathan. Nothing can ever take that away from us.” There was a distinct
hesitation and Jack looked up. They had reached the low-slung wooden gate that
was the entrance back into his parents’ backyard, the whitewashed wooden
bungalow before them almost collapsing under the weight of rambling yellow
roses and orange pink honeysuckle.
“Tell me,” he insisted, his
tall bulk blocking her path.
“You probably noticed Dad is
quite emotional. The news that there is life beyond the stars, your return from
the dead...” Catherine’s voice wobbled, revealing her own distress at the
memory of his reported death and then later, his sister’s. Jack took her into
his arms, feeling her draw on his strength.
“It’s alright, Mom. I talked
with Janet. The Foruma should be able to help. There is quite an exchange of
medical information going on.”
“He wanted you to know that
you didn’t have to worry about this illness being passed on to you,” Catherine
explained. Jack closed his eyes at this example of his father’s love, lightly
resting his chin on his mothers silvery hair. So, he was feeling a little as if
his world had just been rudely pulled out from under his feet but he had
survived bigger shocks than this one. In a way, it was a relief. Reconciling
what he was now with who he had been had proven an impossibility, and he could
only imagine the raptures Janet and S’rella would be in once they got their
heads together. And their hands on him. He could almost feel the needles
withdrawing the blood from his body, never mind that the Foruma had more sophisticated
means for extracting his body’s fluids from him. He determined there and then,
that he would not allow them to subject him to their curiosity-driven demands.
There were some perks to his position and he was going to abuse them to the
full.
His father was waiting for
them in a kitchen filled with the mouthwatering aroma of well-done meat. The
anxious old man that turned to face him was a shadow of the stubborn fierce
person he remembered. Except for his eyes. Those brown orbs burned with an
aching pride when they rested on him.
“Did you tell him?” he asked
his wife, his voice quavering.
“Yes, Dad,” Jack answered
for his mother. His father drew himself up straighter and a glimmer of his
former strength shone through.
“I’m sorry, Jon. We should
have told you when you were old enough. We moved. No one knew and we were
happy. There was never a reason to change that.”
O’Neill raised a hand,
sensing his Dad’s need to explain, but not missing the slight shudder that
overtook his frail body. Catherine had moved to the stove, donning some oven
mitts, before extracting a large roasting pan stuffed with a leg of lamb,
surrounded by root vegetables.
“We’ll talk over dinner,
Dad. Looks likes Mom’s done us proud,” he commented, grabbing a kitchen towel
and moving over to take the bulk of the weight, easing the entire meal onto the
wooden trivet waiting for it. Remembering how his mother liked to serve direct
from the pot, he silently took the mitts from her before carrying the meal over
to the familiar kitchen table, already laid for three. A pang for his missing
sister swept through him.
“Seamus, sit down before I
have to scoop you up from the floor,” his mother scolded, almost shooing her
husband to the table. Jack straightened, and just stood there watching them,
feeling a sense of the passage of time since they had last been together for
Charlie’s funeral. His parents had been well then, their haggard appearance the
result of grief and not ill health. Then he had retreated into his shell,
barely emerging to return even the briefest of phone calls. The apparent
reemergence of Ra at the SGC had allowed him to immerse himself in his career
and a new battle and he had been quick to persuade himself that his family
would be better off if he maintained his distance.
Lauren had called to berate him and it was
with bitter regret that he remembered their last conversation had been terse.
His self-recrimination was now a furnace, feeding the energy ball that his mind
had only recently learned to store without leaving him at the mercy of a
rampaging headache. It hadn’t been long after that last contact with his sister
that he had found himself stripped off his rank and tossed to Apophis like an
old bone. A token to mollify the Goa’uld wannabe God. The rest was history. Literally.
And a story that appeared to fascinate Earth’s population even more so than the
discovery of the wealth of diversity that existed beyond its orbit.
It was almost as if his
personal story, and those of his wife and friends, provided some form of comfort
blanket to the billions unable to cope with the upheaval of their beliefs.
Counselor Haven had spared no energy helping Earth to come to terms with their
newfound status in the universe. O’Neill had discovered that the Foruma
diplomat was an old war horse when it came to fledgling planets joining the
wide flung party that went on beyond their skies. Earth was currently in a
state of shock, and Haven expected the political wrangling to start in earnest
very shortly. The forthcoming UN summit was to be the battleground and the wily
diplomat had requested the A’garja’s presence to help smooth the way. Daniel
had snorted when he had heard that one, but had dragged himself away from his
research to join him for the trip.
His unexpected enthusiasm
had been a surprise to Jack, until he had discovered a mass expedition to
accompany him was in progress. Finally, it had fallen to his wife to remind
him, with ill-concealed exasperation, that not only were Janet and Daniel due
to be married on Earth before their baby’s arrival, but that as bridesmaids,
Sam, Cassie and Kirana were duty bound to attend. Not only that, as best man,
he had better damn well make sure he was there too! Once he had been startled
into paying attention to what was going on with his family and friends, O’Neill
had also woken up to his son’s slowly developing relationship with one
Cassandra Fraiser. In the end, they had all come along for the ride and once
back on Earth, Jack had found himself sucked into the political nightmare that
was rapidly becoming Earth’s hallmark in his eyes.
However, when he had
received his parents’ request for him to visit them alone, Jack had put aside
all the demands on his time except for a quick briefing from Sam on what was
expected of him and when. The transporter technology installed by the Asgard on
the Kalluna II easily slipped him past the security net that now protected his
parents from both the ever curious and persistent media attention and
sightseers. Now, he knew why they had wanted to see him so urgently, he was
overcome by a need to learn his origins. To hear the story that had led his
parents to claim him as their own. He needed to know.
With a start, he realized
his mother had arched an eyebrow at him and feeling instinctively guilty, he
looked to his father, who subtly prompted him by joining his hands together.
Jack gulped and mimicked him, lowering his eyes to the pristine white
tablecloth.
“For what we are about to
receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful,” Catherine intoned. Jack opened
his mouth to respond with the accustomed response but a quick glance at his
mother silenced him. “And we thank you, God our Father, for the safe return of
our son to this table.”
Jack smiled and looked up to
see fond eyes resting on him.
“Amen,” he chorused dutifully
with them.
“And when was the last time
you said grace before a meal, Jonathan O’Neill?” his mother asked him tartly,
but with a giveaway twinkle in her eyes, as she served large spoonfuls of food
onto her best china plates.
“Too long, Mom,” he admitted,
slightly shamefaced.
“Probably met so many Gods
he has forgotten his own,” his father pointed out dryly.
The unexpected comment
startled Catherine. Then, her eyes met Jack’s and they shared one of those
special grins he remembered from his youth. A moment that took him back to his
teen years when they had regularly rolled their eyes over Seamus O’Neill’s
special brand of humor.
“Yeah, Dad,” Jack responded
softly, “I seem to tick them off too.”
It seemed his father was
having a good moment and he intended to make the most of it. Seamus returned
him a knowing look, and nodded before piercing his lamb with his fork. He
talked around the mouthful, ignoring the rebuking look his wife threw him.
“Son, when we traveled to
Chicago to see this baby that had become available, we knew he would be
special.” Jack stilled, swallowing his own mouthful of pot roast before it
could get stuck. “We just had no idea how special he would become.”
There was a small silence.
Finally, O’Neill cleared his throat, touched more that he would ever admit.
“”Chicago?”
His mother picked up the
tale.
“We had been trying for a
baby for five years and had been on the list to adopt for two.”
“Was Lauren adopted?”
Jack could have bitten off
his tongue at the sad expression that flitted across his mother’s face. Of all
people, he knew how hard it was to lose a child. It wasn’t right to outlive
them.
“I’m sorry,” he began but
Catherine cut him off.
“No, it’s fine. You should
know. Lauren was our own child. Once we had adopted you the pressure to have a
baby was less and then, one day, she just came along.”
Jack stretched out a hand,
his fingers covering his mother’s own.
“I’m glad she did. And I’m
sorry I wasn’t here when she died.”
“You should visit her kids,”
Seamus interjected roughly. “They’ve had a hard time, losing their mother. Tom
tells us they are over the moon to hear their uncle is the A’garja from another
universe.”
“I will,” Jack promised
readily, putting to the back of his mind the hectic schedule planned for him.
This was important too.
His instant agreement seemed
to please his parents and they exchanged happy looks. Catherine brightened and
poured Jack some iced water.
“So?” he prompted her.
“We went to Chicago Memorial
Hospital where you were being looked after. You were a puzzle, even then. You
just appeared in the nursery on October 20, 1957. The pediatrician determined
you to have been born within the last hour but there was no sign of your
mother. Your natural mother. Of course they didn’t have security cameras and checks
like they do now but the hospital was a busy place that night, and yet no one
saw anything. After two weeks of investigation, the welfare authorities decided
to try and find adoptive parents. They contacted us and, naturally, we were
thrilled. To be able to adopt such a young baby was like a dream come true. The
paperwork was completed quickly and we collected you from the hospital within
the week.”
Jack frowned, trying to
picture the scene in his mind, testing how he felt. He had seen pictures of himself
as a baby. If he asked, his mother would probably be able to produce them. As
if reading his mind, Catherine pushed her plate aside and stood up, moving to a
sideboard and pulling open a drawer. A familiar leather bound album was pulled
out and she brought it over, placing it between them on the white cloth, before
sitting down again. Her fingers stroked the worn-caressed cover reverently
before opening it. Jack stared at himself as a tiny baby, clearly only a few
weeks old. His mother was holding him proudly; her eyes shining with a
gratitude that he could understand better now than when he had first studied
this photo as a teenager. Then he had dismissed it with laughter, unaware of
the story that lay behind it.
“Your father took this
picture as soon as we got you back to our apartment. We remained in Chicago for
a few weeks until all the adoption procedures had been completed, and then we
moved to Minnesota. We registered you there, putting ourselves down as your
natural parents. I claimed I had delivered you at home just two weeks earlier.
Fortunately, our blood types matched and DNA testing was unknown then. There
seemed no reason for anyone to know you were not ours, and by then it felt as
if you were our own child. Jonathan, we never thought of you as anything but
our own son. Certainly we never loved you any less than we did Lauren.”
O’Neill nodded slowly.
“Wasn’t there an original
birth certificate?”
“Yes, but there was a fire
in the records department at the Welfare Department and the hospital did not
keep their records for more than ten years. By the time you applied to the Air
Force there were no paper records except for newspaper reports of the
mysterious appearance of a baby in the hospital where you were named Baby
Jonathan Doe. In fact, that is the name that went on the original birth
certificate and adoption papers. We liked the name and kept it. We registered
you as Jonathan O’Neill. So you see, there is little to connect you to Baby
Doe.”
“My whole life is public
property now,” Jack protested, trying to trace in his mind the paper trails
that could lead to his parent’s ruse being uncovered. In truth, they had
committed a felony, although somehow, he doubted the government allowing anyone
to prosecute them now. Still, it could make life awkward for them and he had
barely restrained himself from frying the last reporter that had accosted him
at a UN reception. His diplomatic skills had been sorely tested in the media
fray sported by his home planet. Halla was a tranquil haven in comparison. “There
must be witnesses. The welfare officer?”
“She was an amazing woman.
She would be in her nineties by now, if she is still alive,” Catherine
explained. She paused. “Are you cross with us?”
“Cross?” Jack asked,
momentarily puzzled,
“For lying to you all these
years.”
Jack stared at his parents.
Anxious faces peered back at him.
“No, Mom, Dad. I’m not cross
but I am glad you told me.”
His Dad leaned over, his
hand plucking at his son’s sleeve.
“Will it make a difference
to you? Over us, I mean. Discovering you again has brought a whole new family
into our lives. We don’t want to lose you. Not again.”
“Come back with me,” Jack
offered, sudden affection rising for the couple who had raised and made
sacrifices to see him through school and into the Air Force. A need to protect
them flooded him. It was worth it just
to see the look of sheer relief on their faces. They turned to one another,
Catherine searching his father’s face. He suspected they had discussed this
possibility already, for his mother simply smiled before turning to him.
“Thank you, Jonathan. Having
you ask means the world to us, but Earth is our home. Tom and the kids are here
too.”
“You’ve already thought this
over, haven’t you?”
He could not mask his
disappointment, even understanding and agreeing with their reasons. Somehow,
knowing that the couple before him were not his natural parents just
intensified his feelings and an acute sense of loss swept through him.
“Damn.”
“Son?”
“You’ve been great parents,
you know. I let you down, with Charlie. Then shutting you out.”
“You didn’t let us down.”
Catherine leaned forward, a frail hand taking his. “It was a tragic accident
but you were simply beyond our help. We couldn’t reach you. We had to learn to
forgive ourselves for failing you and then your career just absorbed you. It
made us angry and then they told us you had been killed.”
Seamus bobbed his head in
agreement, anger burning in his eyes.
“Dad?”
“It makes my blood boil, to
know what they did to you.”
Jack had no reply to that.
It was a pain he had thought buried when he had returned to Peterson Air Force
Base to confront those who had sacrificed him to Apophis, but still the hurt
simmered deep beneath the surface. He was skilled at schooling his features and
hiding his emotions, even from himself. Briefly, he wondered if it was a
subconscious feeling of betrayal that fed the energy store in his head. His
mother’s hand pulled back.
“That static charge again,”
she said wonderingly. His father just looked at him, clearly considering the
significance of the energy leakage.
“So you are angry too,” he
observed. “You know, I always thought they fobbed us off with your funeral. It
was a quiet affair, none of the usual military ceremony. Your General Hammond
presented us with the American Flag personally.”
“He did?”
He hadn’t known that. It
seemed his former CO had more than flouted regulations in his reaction to
Earth’s deal with Apophis nearly five years ago now. His father shuddered, and
seemed to withdraw into himself and, intuitively, Jack knew his Dad was not
going to be with them for much longer that evening.
“It’s okay, Dad. Thanks for
telling me. For everything.”
Later, after his mother had
settled Seamus in the den with a blanket around his legs and the television in
the background, they sat at the cleared table, tablecloth in the machine and
hot, freshly brewed coffee in large mugs before them.
“You’ve changed, Jonathan,”
his mother observed.
“A lot’s happened, Mom,”
Jack grimaced, staring into the black liquid, still swirling from when he had
stirred it restlessly with the tip of one finger until he had caught his
mother’s stern eye on him. She was silent and suddenly suspicious, he looked up
at her. “What? Come on, I know that look. You’re thinking. Tell me!” he
ordered.
“I’m wondering if you were
meant to be this way. That maybe you were placed here on Earth for a reason.”
His mother spoke slowly, and with good reason. O’Neill suddenly felt his neck
tingling, and that insidious voice that had been haunting his thoughts lifted
in volume.
“You’re not buying all that
A’garja legend cr... I mean nonsense, are you? Because if you are, don’t.
It’s... It’s...” He ground to a halt, floundering. They sat there in silence
and it wasn’t comfortable. A woman, nearly in her eighties, who had wiped his
bottom, fed, clothed him and loved him for years was staring at him as if
seeing who he really was for the first time. What was she saying? They had
chosen to reveal their fifty-year secret to him for a reason and it was a lot
to take in.... Finding that you were not who you thought you were. Oh, shit!
Oh, crap. Crap!
***
Commander Wespos was feeling
more than a little sick. He stared at the message he had just sent on a journey
across billions of light years to another universe. To the A’garja! His Commander-in-Chief!
Bah! Now it had gone, he just felt empty. No satisfying feeling of vengeance to
assuage the ache in his heart that was his constant companion now. Just the
bitter taste of ashes. His mouth twisted. He knew why. His communication would be
meaningless to its recipient. Looking across his desk to the two other
occupants of his office on the Allsatt Star, his resolve hardened. He knew one
message Jack O’Neill would understand.
Boll’shta! To be reduced to
this. But he would do it. He had to. His thirst for revenge had to be quenched
and he appreciated the fine symmetry in this scheme that would lay ghosts to
rest. He wondered if the Nitan and this Earthling had chosen today especially
to explain their plan? Probably. He stood up and moved to the tall view port
that allowed his gaze to travel from the stars above his head down to those
that danced at his feet.
He ignored the cough behind
him. He knew it was Robert Kinsey. A kindred soul in some respects. Also driven
by his hatred for a man who had brought him to his knees. It was discomforting
to find he felt an instinctive distrust for the man. As for Allaon… Well! A
Nitan onboard a Foruma battlecruiser. A spy so deeply entrenched on Halla, the
Foruma of Galaxies’ governing planet, that he could aid and abet the release of
the A’garja’s infamous would-be assassin. To be even meeting with these
conspirators was treachery of the highest order. But, he had committed himself
a long time ago and it was too late to back out now. He would do this.
“I’ll do it,” he ground out,
his eyes focusing on the brightest star highlighted against the most incredible
backdrop: a nebula swirl of red gold hydrogen gas edged by a blue fluorescent
cloud of dust. Beautiful! Just like…
“A wise decision,
Commander,” Kinsey purred.
Wespos turned in time to
catch the puny human’s self-satisfied glance to his Nitan colleague. What
interesting bed-fellows they made. So different, and yet, united by a common
cause. He decided not to comment on the obvious conclusions that Kinsey
revealed with his gloating body language. He did not care to know or understand
the nature of their partnership.
“How will your insider at
the A’garja’s daughter’s school circumvent the security?” Wespos asked instead.
“That is not your concern,”
Allaon replied, his eyes dissolving so that the Allsatt Star’s Commander almost
fancied that the Nitan was looking inward. Perhaps in communication with its
Master… He shivered. That his life had come to this! The betrayal of a lifetime
of dedicated service to his universe in order that he could extract justice.
Ultimately, it would be in the best interests of the Foruma, that now familiar
voice inside him argued. With the A’garja gone, the Forces would restore order.
Establish a more thoughtful, traditional approach to its cause. Cease the
pointless self-sacrificing culture that had infected its ranks. Spare others
this pain… The human appeared not to have heard his partner.
“Hallanian Security has been
compromised for years,” he boasted. “The Secret Service on Earth is far
superior. With all the technology at your disposal, I cannot understand why you
have not constructed a Nitan detector…”
“Silence!” Allaon ordered.
His eyes had returned to their usual cold mask as they swept over an oblivious
Kinsey before meeting Wespos’ more calculating ones. “It is enough to know we
have created an opening.”
The ship’s Captain nodded.
He could address this security breach later. If he lived.
“Very well. The Allsatt Star
will be waiting. Remember, my crew will be expecting high security risk
passengers, so act accordingly.”
“Of course!” replied the
oily Earth politician. “They are but children, after all.”
***
Sam studied her husband
thoughtfully as he dropped a light kiss on the forehead of a very sleepy little
girl. Kirana stirred, smiling in that hazy area between staying awake and
submitting to the heavy pull on her eyelids that would not take no for an
answer. There was a vulnerability about his gentle gestures tonight that was
unusual. He looked up and caught her perusal of him. A hawkish rise of one
eyebrow and a suggestive twinkle in his eyes was reassuring but not enough to
put her off the scent.
“Jack?” His face dropped and
a light sigh convinced her. Something was troubling him. He straightened up as
she moved towards him; not stopping until her cheek rested in the hollow of his
neck and his arms enfolded her tightly. The tension in his body was
unmistakable. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Not here,” he answered
softly above her. She could hear his heart slowly beating, in rhythm with the
rise and fall of his chest. He felt warm, solid and she inhaled his masculinity
in deeply.
“Where then?”
There was a pause and then
he drew away. For a moment, her heart tripped with an unexpected fear before
his hand grasped her and pulled her with him.
Ah, the perks of marriage to
the A’garja. Five minutes later, bright light fading from them, they stood
gazing at the small lake, pond really, by Jack’s cabin in Minnesota. The sound
of rustling leaves, and water rippling beneath them, filled the air. Standing
there on the little jetty, under the twinkling stars, with the cool night air
dispelled by the warm coat he had insisted she wear, Sam could be forgiven for
suspecting him of romantic intentions. Until he spoke.
“I was adopted.”
Of everything he could have
said, this wasn’t what she would ever have expected to hear and, for a moment,
she was speechless.
“Adopted?” she finally
managed. He did not answer her. “But what about your Mom and Dad? They’re your
parents.” She paused as her mind shifted gear. “Not your parents?”
His head shook slightly.
“Not my real parents.
Apparently I was abandoned in a Chicago hospital and Catherine and Seamus
O’Neill adopted me.”
“And you just found this
out? Today? Wow!”
“Yeah.”
“That’s... well, amazing.”
“Ya think?”
Sam winced. She wasn’t
making a good job out of this one. It occurred to her then that she was seeing
a side of Jack that was rarely allowed out. He looked lost and instinctively
she answered his unspoken plea.
“Come here,” she coaxed, moving
in close to his side and pulling him against her for the second time that
evening. This time, she understood the strength behind his hug. He was seeking
reassurance, confirmation that he did belong somewhere. She tried to imagine
how she would feel if her Dad told her something similar, and the sense of loss
and displacement was so overwhelming in its intensity that she pressed closer.
“They’re still my Mom and
Dad,” he told her, his lips moving against her hair.
“Of course they are.”
There was another pause and
Sam glanced up at him. He was staring thoughtfully across the water, eyes
slightly narrowed in concentration.
“Cassie and Kirana are
adopted,” she pointed out suddenly as the thought occurred to her.
“Their parents were taken
from them. They weren’t just abandoned!” Jack snapped, moving away from her
abruptly. So... this was the real problem. She watched him turn away and begin
to march up to the cabin.
“Jack!” she called after
him. He did not stop and she frowned, wondering what tactic to try now. “Jack,
wait, please!” Racing to catch up with him, she was lightly panting as they
reached the steps to the porch at the same time. “Jack, for heaven’s sake, you
have no idea why your mother left you. She could have been desperate, without
money. Or underage. Or husband gone. You don’t know. You said she left you in a
hospital. So she must have cared about you, wanted you to be looked after.”
“They found no trace of
her.” He placed his hand on the door handle, turned it and entered.
Momentarily, Sam was distracted.
“How?”
Jack grinned; mischief
suddenly erasing the uncertainty that had marred his features just seconds
earlier.
“Tranton! He switched the
handle for one programmed to my DNA but disguised as an everyday doorknob. So I
could drop in without worrying about keys and locking up.”
She nodded, resisting the
urge to dismantle the door lock there and then. Inside, the cabin was cold and
they both set to building a fire. Jack located the matches and soon the paper
had caught. They both stood watching the flames lick the kindling.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“Please.”
He disappeared back outside
again and she waited patiently, warming her hands over the rapidly growing
fire, catching the sound of the generator starting. By the time he was back,
she was already filling the percolator with water. They settled into an easy
familiar routine that they had established the first time they had vacationed
there as man and wife, with their own adopted daughter, Kirana. So far, they
had managed inside from the light of the moon shining through the windowpanes,
but now Jack switched on the lamps dotted about the sitting room and the
recessed lights under the wall cupboards. Clearly, he did not want the harsh
brightness of the main lights on tonight.
“Sorry,” he murmured as she
handed him his coffee.
She smiled her forgiveness
and let him beckon her over to the sofa. Snuggled up beside him, she felt a
deep sense of contentment. If only it could be like this all the time. Oh,
their life was exciting and fulfilling, with their every need provided for, but
these simple moments of solitude were to be treasured. The silence was
comfortable and her thoughts turned over his rather startling news.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
His fingers played in her
hair.
“Do you want to find her?
Your mother, I mean. I bet Thor would be able to locate her in the same way he
always manages to find you.”
“If she’s alive still. My
real father too.”
Well, obviously he had
considered that option already.
“And?”
“What?”
Now she sighed in
exasperation.
“Do you want to find them?”
“I don’t know.” This time
she waited him out. “It was difficult enough for Catherine and Seamus finding
out their son was the A’garja.”
He dragged the title out almost mockingly. It
wasn’t the first time that she had felt her husband was the reluctant holder of
this legendary name and for a brief moment, she glimpsed a view of his
perspective of the additional burdens his exalted rank brought him. Sure, she
understood the pressures he lived under as the A’garja, meeting the
never-ending expectations of those brought up on the ideal and not the
realities of the man who wore the cloak of destiny. But only on an intellectual
basis. Now, just for a moment, she could actually feel it and then it was gone.
Jack was looking at her strangely.
“I felt that too,” he
murmured, standing up, agitated.
Sam sat there frozen, unsure
as to what had just happened.
“What was that?” she asked,
suddenly conscious that she really did not want to hear this but, somehow, she
knew he was going to answer her and that really frightened her. If he wasn’t
going to ignore it, then it had to be serious. They had all learned from recent
events as he had adapted to his newfound abilities.
“I think I’m changing.” His
voice was low and the words forced out slowly. She found herself spellbound by
the hypnotic note in his voice. “I seem to be able to sense other’s minds. Like
I did with Tarar and a little with Lya. And Skar, obviously.” Sam began to feel
scared as she sensed that this development was a sign of the Ancients’ influence
on his mind extending way beyond anything they had imagined so far. There was
something more going on here.
“Have you told S’rella?”
“No, and you’re not to
mention it either,” he warned her, his eyes darkening. She frowned. So, she had
his trust but he was still a long way from meekly submitting to more tests and
questions from his doctors.
“Jack, we need to monitor
this! Have you had any more headaches?” she demanded, uncurling her legs to
stand before him. He didn’t answer and she grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly
until his eyes focused on hers. A shake of his head was the answer. Holy
Hannah, he was miles away. “Jack, what is it? Tell me. Please!”
It seemed ages before he
answered and when he did the clues began to join up together.
“Who am I, Sam? Really?”
***
Teal’c stood just within the
door to the small church in Texas, his huge bulk almost taking up a full half
of the door’s width. He towered above most of the guests arriving and as Chief
Usher, his duties should have included seeing people to their seats and handing
out the Order of Services. That task had quickly migrated to Janet’s cousin, a
nice young teenage boy of fifteen, who appeared completely awestruck by the
alien and totally fascinated by Teal’c’s golden tattoo. Relieved of the Earth
tradition, the Jaffa had settled into the role he had determined for himself,
and that was to check out every person coming within a hundred yards of his
friends. So far, he had detected nothing amiss and so his expression was genial
and friendly, a slight incline of his head bestowed on each new arrival whose
reactions varied from smiles, nods, to startled jumps.
This was not unexpected, as
Commander Tranton and the A’garja’s personal battalion were providing discreet
security in addition to the Earth authorities conducting security checks on
every guest. Dr. Fraiser had wanted to fulfill a childhood dream of marrying in
her hometown, in the church she had been all but raised in and with her family
all around her. Daniel Jackson had explained that her first wedding had been
conducted under the terms of her first husband. A selfish brute it would seem,
from the little information the alien had been made privy too, although it had
been enough to ensure that if he ever had the good fortune to meet the good
doctor’s first love, Teal’c would ensure his feelings were made transparently
clear.
The church was full when a
car drew up at the front, with Commander Tranton himself stepping forward to
open the doors. Dr. Jackson emerged first dressed in a black tuxedo with silver
cravat tie, grinning boyishly from ear to ear. O’Neill followed him,
grinning. Teal’c relaxed but only
slightly. There was something up with his friend and he sensed Colonel Carter
knew what it was about too. They had returned by transport from their
unscheduled break at O’Neill’s cabin early that morning. Despite their happy,
rested expressions, he had instinctively known they were hiding something. For
once, Jackson had not picked up on it. He was too wrapped up with the events of
today. As he should be, Teal’c mused.
“Hi, T,” O’Neill greeted
him, slapping him hard on his shoulder, a habit only he dared to indulge in.
“O’Neill,” he replied.
“Daniel Jackson, I trust you are prepared to make this promise of lifelong
commitment to Dr. Fraiser?”
The groom looked a little
taken aback, as if being forced to think about it for the very first time,
instead of the months he had been granted to ensure he was doing the right
thing.
“Sure he is,” O’Neill
answered for him, looking around the church curiously. He was studying the
backs of heads belonging to guests doing their best not to turn and stare at
the newest, and undoubtedly most infamous, arrivals. Teal’c’s heart sank a
little. The A’garja was in a manic mood, which meant he would be constantly on
the move and more likely to get in trouble. Skar, already seated at the front
had seen them and stood up. O’Neill smiled at his son, raising a hand in
acknowledgement.
“Skar’s here. We should join
him,” he suggested. “Are you nervous yet?” he added, turning to Daniel.
“Will you stop asking me
that?” Jackson murmured, looking embarrassed. He glanced at Teal’c. “He’s been
like this all morning.”
“Perhaps it is O’Neill who
is nervous.”
Jack laughed and disappeared
rapidly down the aisle, indulging the kids, who were more than happy to gawk at
the face of a man who was often seen on their television screens nowadays, with
a wink and a smile. Teal’c and Daniel exchanged raised eyebrows before the
younger man followed his best man. Now, the chief usher checked the watch
Colonel O’Neill had given him years ago.
It was five minutes before
eleven hundred hours, Central Standard Time, and a black vehicle was pulling
into the front drive. All other thoughts were forgotten as Teal’c silently
studied the alien machine with an engine that sounded in dire need of
replacement. The car spluttered to a stop. The door opened and Colonel Carter,
Cassie and Kirana spilled out, all dressed in the a green shimmering material,
but with styles adapted to suit the age of their wearer. Both the A’garja’s
wife and Cassandra had a princess bodice which dropped from just beneath the
bust to the floor, the material tapering to fullness at their ankles. Kirana’s
was designed for a little girl and stopped short at her calves. They looked
charming.
“Isn’t it great?” Colonel
Carter beamed at him when they reached the door. Her body turned with hand
outstretched to encompass the strange transportation in which they had chosen
to arrive. “It’s a 1936 Pierce-Arrow 1601
Metropolitan Town Brougham with a 12cylinder engine giving 185 horsepower! It’s been in Janet’s family for years.”
“That I can believe,” Teal’c
managed tactfully, refraining from inquiring as to why the car had equine
properties. His friend saw right through him.
“You should ask Janet’s Dad
for a ride. He’d be thrilled, I’m sure. Apparently he was up most of last night
polishing it.”
“It is indeed shiny,” he
admitted, glad to find something good to say about it. He hoped the good
Colonel would not notice he had not accepted her offer on Mr. Fraiser’s behalf.
“Where is Dr. Fraiser?” The American Classic was pulling out of the churchyard
and disappearing down the road.
“Janet? The car’s going to
collect her now.”
“They had only one of these
transports?”
Wide blue eyes turned on him.
“Well, they don’t exactly
grow on trees you know. We must take you to a vintage car fair before we go
back to the Foruma. You’ll love it.”
Teal’c paused, wondering how
he could avoid this one. He sensed such an excursion would be on a par with
fishing trips to lakes empty of the required life-forms.
“I promise to give this
consideration.”
Fortunately, Sam was too
distracted by her daughter pulling on her skirt to notice the lukewarm response
to her suggestion.
“Mummy, Mummy! Daddy’s
here.”
Teal’c and Sam looked down
the aisle to spot Jack’s head bent round the end of the pew to catch Kirana’s
attention. He was smiling at her, his hand emerging to wave. He had to be
leaning across Daniel Jackson to achieve this feat and from the sudden way he
disappeared, the groom was protesting vociferously. The Jaffa allowed a rare
smile to break his features, one shared with the three bridesmaids. Even Kirana
seemed to understand the humor in the situation.
“Jack’s in a funny mood,”
Cassie observed.
Sam sobered slightly.
“I think he’s been looking
forward to a day just for family and friends. Is General Hammond here?”
“He is. He is sitting in the
third row on the bride’s side with Kayla, Tessa and your father. The majority
of the SGC in attendance are on Dr. Jackson’s side to leave room for Dr.
Fraiser’s family and many friends.”
“I think I’m gonna puke,”
Cassie moaned suddenly.
“It’s just nerves. You’ll be
fine,” Sam reassured her.
“I’ll hold your hand,”
Kirana offered.
Cassie took her up on it,
and Colonel Carter began bustling around them, straightening the flowers
adorning their hair and smoothing out the ruffles in their dresses.
“You look wonderful, both of
you,” she sighed softly.
“You don’t look so bad
yourself, Sam,” Cassie pointed out, beginning to look a little more composed.
She ruined the effect with a panicked wail. “Come on, Mom, what’s keeping you?”
Teal’c checked his watch. It
was eleven hundred hours precisely and, as if to mark the hour, the strange car
made its second appearance. This time, Janet emerged, dressed in the palest
green gown that had the effect of making her chestnut hair glow like fire.
Similarly styled to her bridesmaids’, and so easily encompassing her growing
baby, her wedding dress varied by tapering into a longer train behind her, the
green transitioning into a silvery white. Her sleeves were also longer, ending
in a V to meet the sheerest white lace fingerless gloves that stopped at the
base of the thumb and that completed the outfit perfectly. Her hair was drawn
up into loose curls, pinned into place by a butterfly encrusted with sparkling
green gems. The resulting effect was magical.
Teal’c moved forward,
feeling his breath catch in his throat as he took her hand from the chauffeur
who had helped her out, steadying her as she made her way up the steps. Emotion
filled him as this petite woman for whom he had the utmost affection and
respect, gazed at her bridesmaids with warmth and pride.
“God, you all look
stunning!” she gasped, taking her daughter’s hands in hers.
“I can’t believe you, Mom!
Oh no, I’m going to cry! You just look so beautiful...”
“Take a deep breath,
Cassandra Fraiser, and slow your heart as we have practiced many times,” Teal’c
ordered sternly, well educated in the problems of tears and make up through
years of experience, and not just on Earth. His authoritative tone did the
trick and Janet smiled at him gratefully as she gave Cassie a gentle squeeze of
thanks. Turning to the bride, he continued. “I would like to take this
opportunity to say that, I too have never seen you look as radiant as you do
today. Daniel Jackson is indeed a fortunate man.”
For a moment, he saw a shine
in the doctor’s eyes, before she took her own deep breath.
“Thanks, Teal’c,” she
whispered leaning towards him. He stooped to accept her kiss, before stepping
back to allow Colonel Carter and Kirana to make their own greetings. The sound
of the organ striking up Mendelssohn’s Wedding March had them moving calmly
into position and then, the ceremony was off to a start. As Teal’c closed the
door behind them, he turned in time to get a grandstand view of the bridegroom
seeing his bride for the first time. The look on Daniel Jackson’s face was all
he needed. Today, in this church, before a God he had learned much of in his
study of the bible during his first years at the SGC, a vow of true love would
be made and kept. For a lifetime.
***
“Dad! We’re about to go in
there. You’ve got to tell me what it is you want me to do! Throw me a bone
here, please.”
Jack gritted his teeth
together, hearing what Skar was saying but knowing the wider the circle of
those who knew of his developing powers, the less time he had to evade the
clutches of S’rella. He loved the Auraan physician, really he did, but his
dislike of coming under a doctor’s professional attention was ingrained in him
ever since... well, flashes of his hospitalization following his extended tour
of Iraq sprang to mind. He turned to his son. Skar would understand that. He
had to trust him anyway.
“I can hear thoughts,” he
spoke quietly in Hallanian.
“What?” Skar exploded,
turning to stare at his Dad, in English.
“Shh.”
His son switched to the
Forumian language too.
“You mean other than when we
are linked?”
O’Neill nodded glumly.
“Cool!”
“Hardly.”
“What? All the time?”
“No. And I can’t make out
individual thoughts either. I just get swamped by a sense of emotion, an
understanding of what is in their mind. It happened with Sam on our own too.
Except she felt what I was thinking, as if I was broadcasting my emotions out
to her.”
“This is... interesting.
What do you want me to do?”
“Last time I appeared before
the UN General Assembly I could feel the conflicting agendas but the picture
was too confusing. I want you to see if you can help isolate those projecting
the animosity so I can focus in on them.”
“Isn’t that sort of
eavesdropping?” Skar accused. Jack paused, thinking the question through. He
guessed it was, but he was already sensing the thoughts through no choice of
his own, and the alternative would be to not appear at all. Misinterpreting the
cacophony was surely worse than trying to better understand the messages he was
receiving.
“No.”
Skar looked a little dubious
but seemed willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Suppose I fade out. Might
look a little strange,” he pointed out after a few seconds of thought.
“Then stop. On no account
are you to fade out. You’ll be sitting close by, so you should feel
sufficiently grounded but don’t risk attracting attention. OK?”
“Sure. I’ll play it by ear
then. This should be fun!”
His acid tone had Jack glancing at him shar