Area 52: Molotov Nightmares

The flashing red lights and claxon alarms were nothing new to the staff of Stargate command. Nor were the words "unscheduled off-world activation" sounding over the P.A. system all that unusual, but they still made Daniel's heart-rate kick up a few notches. He tore down the corridors, joining up with Carter and Teal'c as they came to a common junction and headed for the Control Room. The shimmering light of the wormhole reflected off the back wall of the enormous, three-story high Gate Room before them, the iris shielding the front of the device from possible incoming threats.

"Receiving a Tok'ra signal," said Sergeant Harriman, looking up at General Hammond for further instructions.

Daniel, Carter and Teal'c gathered behind Harriman to get a better view of their unexpected guest. In the gate room below, military personnel held their positions along the perimeter of the room and along the ramp leading up to the Stargate, weapons at the ready. The iris scissored open, revealing the serene blue puddle of light. A moment later, Jacob Carter stepped through the event horizon, leaving ripples in his wake.

"Stand down," Hammond ordered, and joined the members of SG-1 in going down to meet their old friend.

O'Neill burst into the Gate Room shortly after they got there, slightly out of breath and looking somewhat abashed. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.

Hammond pursed his lips at him. It was the third time this week Colonel O'Neill had been slow responding to an alarm.

O'Neill cocked his head at the Tok'ra and frowned. "Now why do you guys always have to be so melodramatic about everything? We've done 'end of the world' stuff before, and here's a news flash for ya—the world hasn't ended. So why not lighten up a little? Take a minute to smell the roses...maybe say 'hello' first before jumping directly into the doom-saying."

"Hello," said Jacob, obligingly. "Hey, Sam," he added affectionately as Carter slipped around Teal'c to greet him.

He pulled back, and his expression grew grave. This was not a social call; no matter how much he wished it were. "George, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."

"Of course," Hammond replied. "We'll adjourn to the Briefing Room." He led the way, with Jacob and the SG-1 team close behind. Jacob's obvious tension was rubbing off on all of them, and they wasted no further time with niceties.

Once the group was settled around the conference table, Jacob cut right to the chase. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news—again, that is—but the Tok'ra have received intelligence from an undercover operative in Anubis' ranks. It seems Anubis has developed a weapon that could effectively wipe out all of his enemies at once."

"Well?" asked O'Neill at last. "I assume there's more. This is the part where you're supposed to be passing out the doom and gloom pamphlets."

Jacob's head lowered briefly, and when he looked up again, it was Selmak who spoke. "This is a serious matter Colonel O'Neill. A good man lost his life to pass on this information. Hundreds of planets are relying on us to come up with a way of defending ourselves against this weapon."

"The weapon is already being tested, and if it's successful, Anubis will use it against all of his enemies. The problem is, the weapon's power source has been moved to a new location—I have the gate address, but the probes we've sent through the wormhole were disabled immediately, once they reached the other side. We sent a volunteer, but he never returned and the weapon remains active. We are sending our nearest ship to the planet's coordinates, but it is located on the outermost reaches of the gate system. It will take a month at the very least to reach it, and by then it will be too late."

"So we send a probe of our own," Carter suggested. "No offence, Selmak, but it couldn't hurt to try one of ours—it's possible our technology might be able to penetrate their defences where yours couldn't. Sometimes low-tech can be better; we've seen it before."

Carter was about to get up to follow his orders when Jacob held up his hand. "There's more," he said, Jacob's voice now issuing from his mouth. "When I said the weapon's being tested, maybe I should have clarified that it's being tested on the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri. Right now, as we speak, someone at Stargate Command is a walking, talking time bomb."

"Care to elaborate?" asked Daniel, in his best 'let's try to keep everyone calm' tone of voice.

"Basically, this weapon is made up of an amalgamation of technologies. Essentially, it's a Goa'uld implant bomb, much like the one used on your young friend Cassandra, but with some modifications that make it far more deadly."

"Teal'c's right," said Carter. "Naquadria is the only known substance more powerful than naquadah, and if the bomb was made of naquadria we'd have discovered it by now. All the personnel on site go through extensive medical screening on a regular basis. Such a device would have been picked up on our scans."

Jacob shook his head. "Not this bomb. Its core is naquadria, but the real genius of the bomb's design is that it utilises Tollan phase-shift technology and cloaking technology stolen from the Ancients. The phase-shifting allows the bomb to penetrate your Stargate's iris and lodge itself in the brain of anyone nearby. The cloak blocks the naquadria from any sensors that might be used to detect it, making it impossible to locate using conventional methods."

"But with less conventional methods...?" asked O'Neill, steepling his fingers in front of his lips, doing his best to keep up with the conversation.

Jacob tugged at the hem of his tunic, preparing to relay the part that they weren't going to like. "A week ago the Stargate at Tok'ra command was activated from off-world. We sent a team to investigate, but no one came through the gate. We thought little of it at the time, but we later discovered that that was when the bomb was delivered and became lodged in the brain of one of our soldiers. If we hadn't received intelligence from our undercover operative, we would never have found the device, and our high council would have been decimated."

Jacob nodded. "We used every scan we could think of, at first, but we had no luck. The person who carries the bomb has no idea it's in him, and there were no medical abnormalities evident in any of the Tok'ra who were exposed when the Stargate was activated. Only when one of the soldiers complained of having difficulties sleeping did we think to search the subconscious mind to find the bomb."

Carter smiled as she caught on: "Of course. Even though the device exists out of phase with our world, the human brain is incredibly complex, capable of functioning on many levels. It makes sense that, at least on a subconscious level, the carrier of this bomb would be aware of its presence."

"Exactly," Jacob said. "We used our memory devices to study the dreams of this soldier and found that he'd incorporated the bomb into his dreams. Everyone else was then tested, but he was the only one carrying a bomb. The operative in Anubis' camp said that two bombs were sent out. We found one...and we believe the other one is here."

Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So...this bomb...how exactly did you disarm it?"

Jacob's mouth drew itself into a hard, thin line and he drummed his fingers on the table for a moment before addressing the question. "We can't."

"You can't?" said Jack in disbelief. "Don't you mean, you haven't figured out how, just yet?"

"No. I mean we can't. From what we've seen in the dreams, the bomb is set with an automatic destruct to prevent tampering. Even though we now know where it is and could theoretically phase it back into our world, doing so would set off the bomb. We also now know that it's on a timer. There's less than four days left before it detonates, and the only way to disarm it is to destroy its power source..."

"So if we can't disarm the bomb or destroy the power source, what, exactly, are you proposing we do?" asked Hammond .

"The only thing you can do," Jacob replied. "Find out who's carrying the bomb and get him or her as far away from Earth as possible before it's too late."

Jell-o was never meant to be blue, Daniel thought morosely, making tracks in the colourful dessert with his spoon. Normally he didn't think much about it, but for some reason it was really bugging him today. It was unnatural. It wasn't right. Food should be green or orange, or brown. Blue made no sense. Although, he supposed, blueberries were an exception. His mind dwelled on blueberries for a while and it cheered him up a little. Blueberries were blue by nature. People liked blueberries—they were sweet and unassuming.

Hell—they were just blueberries, Daniel chastised himself, and he went back to digging trenches in his Jell-o.

Daniel looked up from his dessert to see Jack O'Neill standing opposite him with a tray full of food. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing—the same, boring black t-shirt he wore every day. The same standard-issue black t-shirt everyone wore. It was a silly question, and it made him smile.

Jack set his tray down and released his silverware from its paper napkin incarceration. "Did the Jell-o do something to offend you?"

Daniel looked at him questioningly, and then looked at the massacred blue gelatine in his bowl. "I guess I wasn't hungry for dessert," he answered with a shy smile.

Jack ate in silence for a while, watching Daniel poke at his Jell-o half-heartedly. It was odd—usually having lunch with Daniel meant being subjected to a non-stop talk on whatever new piece of ancient stone he'd come across. His friend's subdued behaviour didn't sit right with him.

Daniel looked up from his bowl distractedly, like he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. "Sorry?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I guess I'm not great company, am I? I've been burning the midnight oil a little too much lately—I think it's starting to catch up with me."

"I know what you mean," said Jack. "I think we're well overdue for a vacation, don't you? I say, once we've finished saving the world—again—we should hit Hammond up for a week's holiday. You could come fishing with me. What do you say?"

The thought of spending a week alone with Jack—in the middle of nowhere, no less—was enough to make Daniel squirm in his seat, and he was pretty sure some of his uneasiness showed on his face, because Jack immediately backed off.

"Never mind—I'll ask Carter. I figure if I keep pestering her she'll have no choice but to give in eventually."

Daniel felt a pang of guilt seeing the look of disappointment on Jack's face. "I would, Jack. Really, I would. But I've got so many projects on the go—artefacts don't translate themselves, you know. Besides, I've never caught a fish in my life. I'm pretty sure there's something about me that repels them."

"I've never caught anything, either," Jack argued. "That's not the point. Fishing doesn't require the actual catching of fish. It's just meant to be a couple of guys and the great outdoors. No phones, no distractions, and most of all, no Goa'uld. C'mon—would it kill ya to take a break from all this?"

Daniel deliberated for a moment and then nodded. "All right, I'll go," he said, and as Jack's face lit up like a kid with a pocketful of candy, Daniel knew he was getting in way over his head.

"Good," said Jack. "Great! I've got a brand new fire pit I've been itching to try out and a freezer full of nice, thick, filet steaks..."

Their conversation was interrupted when Teal'c arrived, looming above their table like a giant, affable monolith.

"Colonel O'Neill, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c with a respectful nod. "General Hammond wishes us to join him in the Briefing Room."

O'Neill eyed his barely touched plate of dinner wistfully. "You see? Now that's why we need to get away. Imagine eating an entire meal without getting called into a briefing."

"He did not," Teal'c replied. "He merely stated that it was a matter of urgency."

"Then we'd better get down there," said O'Neill. He scraped his chair back from the table and got to his feet, laying his napkin over his unfinished meal as if declaring it dead.

As Jack walked ahead of them, Teal'c took advantage of their relative privacy to ask Daniel a question that had been on his mind since entering the cafeteria. "Am I right in understanding that you have agreed to go fishing with Colonel O'Neill?"

Daniel chewed his lower lip and raised his worried blue eyes to look up at Teal'c. "Uh...yeah," he admitted. "I guess I did."

Teal'c laid a large, sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a hearty pat. "You are a brave man, Daniel Jackson."

"Please, take a seat, gentlemen," said Hammond as O'Neill, Teal'c and Daniel entered the Briefing Room.

Daniel eyed the assembly warily. Sitting on the opposite side of the table were Jacob, Dr. Fraiser, and a Tok'ra woman he'd never met before. Carter and Hammond had already taken their usual seats and were waiting for them to join them so the meeting could get underway.

"As you all know," said Hammond once everyone was seated, "we have a bomb on this base, and we need to find out who's carrying it. This is Shaneeth," he said, gesturing towards their new Tok'ra guest, who gave them a brief nod in greeting, with not so much as a hint of a smile. "She's here to assist us with the screening process."

"How, exactly, does this screening process work?" asked Daniel, with burgeoning anxiety.

It was Shaneeth who answered. "We'll be using our memory devices to access your dreams, and our holographic projectors to display them."

Daniel's eyes darted from Jacob to Hammond uneasily. "Don't you think that's a little invasive?" he asked, licking his suddenly dry lips.

"We would normally just ask the person what he or she sees, but since it's dreams we're talking about, the projectors are the only viable solution," said Jacob.

Daniel's mouth opened like he couldn't think what to say to that, and he blinked mutely at General Hammond for a full three seconds before finding his voice. "You can't seriously be okay with this," he said. "I mean, we're talking a complete disregard for personal privacy."

Hammond 's eyes narrowed at him, and when he spoke, he was all business. "I think it's a very small price to pay to ensure the safety of our planet and potentially billions of people across the galaxy. I'm ordering everyone who was on active duty when the Stargate was activated to undergo the screening process. Myself included."

Daniel's mouth had gone bone dry and he looked from one face to another around the table, hoping to find someone who agreed with him. But it seemed he was the only one who had a problem with it. And he had a big problem with it. "Maybe the screening won't be necessary," he said, hopefully. "Maybe the M.A.L.P. will give us something to work with."

"We sent the M.A.L.P. and the U.A.V.," said Carter. "Both were disabled shortly after they passed through the Stargate. We had telemetry from the M.A.L.P. for a split second before it was taken out, but the information we received was discouraging. The single, static image we were able to retrieve was highly distorted. We managed to clean it up enough to make out the body of the Tok'ra volunteer who went through the gate two days ago. We have no idea what killed him, or what's been disabling our probes."

General Hammond laid his hands flat on the table and surveyed the group gathered before him before settling his attention on Dr. Jackson, who blinked back at him apprehensively. "To expedite our search for the bomb, I've asked Dr. Fraiser to give me a list of anyone who's complained of sleep disturbances in the last week. Dr. Jackson, you were the only one on her list. I'd like to start the screenings with you."

"No," Daniel stated flatly, getting to his feet. Feeling the sting of betrayal, his eyes met Fraiser's across the table and she looked away from him guiltily. "Find some other way. I won't do it."

"Dr. Jackson, this is not a request," said General Hammond , but Daniel ignored him and walked out of the room, leaving the others to stare after him in disbelief.

"Okay," said O'Neill, raising his hand. "Hands up—who here didn't see that one coming?"

Part 2

Dr. Jackson sat hunched over his desk, his chin resting on his fists, gazing out at nothing in particular. His stomach was twisted up in knots. He knew there was no way out of taking the scan, but that didn't mean he was particularly happy about it. There was a knock at his door and Daniel peered over the rim of his glasses to see Dr. Fraiser enter his office with a sheepish duck of her head.

"Dr. Jackson—mind if I come in for a minute?" she asked. Daniel stared blankly at her and said nothing. She came in anyway, closing the door behind her. "Listen, Daniel, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. But under the circumstances I felt I had no choice. Even if General Hammond hadn't made it a direct order I would have told him you'd been having nightmares. Countless lives are at stake here—I hoped you'd understand."

Daniel slumped back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. "I know I overreacted back there, and I know that my precious privacy doesn't come anywhere close to comparing with all the lives that are at stake, but...I really don't like the idea of everyone watching my dreams like it's the Superbowl or something." His blue eyes screwed up at her as if he were trying to will her to understand.

Janet gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "None of us are thrilled at the prospect of having our thoughts probed while we sleep, which is why I've suggested to General Hammond that only two observers be allowed in the room during the scans, one Tok'ra and one member of the SGC."

Daniel thought about it for a moment. "If I have to do this...I'd like you to be the one in there with me. You are my doctor, after all—there's not much of me you haven't seen already anyways."

Janet saw the pleading look on Daniel's face and the mother in her melted. "Of course I'll be there, if that's what you want," she said.

"Thank-you," Daniel said quietly, and waited for her to leave so he could gather his thoughts. But she didn't leave. Instead, she shifted from one foot to the other and looked at him apologetically. "What? Now? I have to do this now? I can't! I'm not even sleepy. Can't they start with someone else? Maybe they'll find the bomb before it's my turn."

"I don't remember dreaming about bombs. My nightmares have nothing to do with bombs, I promise you," he said, sounding like an eight year old begging to stay up late on a school night.

"Daniel..." said Fraiser, lifting her eyebrow in a way she'd found effective in dealing with Cassandra when she got stubborn.

Daniel dropped his chin to his chest and took a few seconds to build up his resolve before pushing up off his chair. He passed Fraiser, giving her a sidelong glance, and opened the door. Two stalwart airmen with P-90's stepped in sync to block his exit.

Daniel fell into step next to her and looked at her askance. "You thought I was gonna make a run for it?" he asked incredulously.

Janet raised her large brown eyes at him and gave him a wry smile. "You can never be too sure in this place."

Jacob Carter and Dr. Fraiser sat in the observation lounge waiting with growing impatience. It had been two and a half hours so far. With the lights turned off and the flickering glow of candles illuminating the isolation room, all that was lacking was a sleeping archaeologist.

Tossing restlessly on the cot they'd set up for him, Daniel fingered the memory device at his temple and glanced at the one-way mirror. He couldn't see Fraiser and Jacob, but he knew they were there and that was enough to make falling asleep virtually impossible. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't relax. He even tried to kelnorim, but it was useless—his mind was in turmoil and no amount of candlelight and meditation could switch it off.

Finally Daniel gave up and raised himself up onto his elbows to look directly into the mirror. "It's no good," he said. "I feel like I just drank six cups of coffee."

Janet leaned over and whispered to Jacob, as if Daniel might hear her is she spoke any louder. "Would a sedative throw off the memory device?"

"It shouldn't," Jacob replied. "And if you don't knock him out, I have a feeling we'll be sitting here all night waiting."

Janet's lips thinned. She didn't like the idea of resorting to drugs to get Daniel to sleep, but they didn't have the luxury of time. Reluctantly, she took her leave of Jacob and entered the adjoining isolation room.

Daniel sat up as she approached. "I don't suppose you've come here to tell me I can go home now."

"I'm just going to give you something to help you sleep." With her best bedside demeanour, Fraiser set to work preparing a hypodermic needle.

Daniel sat quietly, watching her work. He flinched a little as the needle unloaded its stinging lump of venom under the skin of his left arm. As he lay back down, he grabbed hold of Fraiser's hand and she turned her startled brown eyes on him.

"Tell me everything will be alright," he said, already starting to feel the effects of the sedative. He blinked groggily up at her, fighting it all the way. "Tell me I haven't ruined everything." His eyelids had become too heavy to keep open despite his efforts, and he finally gave in and let them close.

Janet watched him battle against the drug, his brow deeply trenched in a frown even after the rest of his body had gone limp. She had no idea what he meant by what he'd just said, but she felt compelled to answer him, nonetheless. "Everything will be just fine, Daniel. Now relax and go to sleep."

Daniel's brow slowly unfurled and his mouth went slack. He was out. Dr. Fraiser gently set his hand back down at his side and gave his hair a gentle pat. She'd known the nightmares he'd been having were bad enough to make him come to her for help, but his recent behaviour had her worried. Either the dreams were being unnaturally induced by the bomb, or they were being naturally produced by his subconscious mind—and they were clearly having a profound psychological effect on him. In any case, she had a bad feeling Daniel was in trouble.

Jacob Carter had just finished calibrating the holographic projector when Fraiser returned to the observation lounge. The projector was displaying very little—just the odd spark of light or the ghostly shapes of faces and bodies in a swirling blackness.

"Are you sure that thing's working?" asked Janet, trying to make sense of the dark, garbled images.

"It's working fine," Jacob assured her. "The drugs you gave him pushed him into a deep sleep—deeper than he would have gone had he fallen asleep on his own. Give it a little time, the dreams will come."

Janet took a seat, settling in for the long haul. "Any word on how General Hammond is doing?" she asked.

"I just checked in with Sam," he answered. "She said he's been out like a light for the last two hours. No bomb sightings as yet." Hammond had taken it upon himself, as a gesture of good faith towards Dr. Jackson, to volunteer to undergo the scan at the same time. He was in the VIP suite at that very moment with Shaneeth and Sam monitoring his dreams.

It was another forty minutes before anything of interest showed up on the projector. Jacob prodded Fraiser, who'd started nodding off, letting her know it was time.

//Not surprisingly, perhaps, the first images that appeared were of a great pyramid and a vast landscape of blowing sand. Three pale moons hung in the sky overhead, and apart from the pyramid itself, they were the only thing of interest to be seen. Soon Colonel O'Neill appeared in the dream, dressed in desert fatigues, his short hair ruffled and dusty from the wind.

"You can get us home, can't you Jackson ?" he asked. He looked severely pissed.

"That's not good enough. My men here are counting on you. You said—no, you guaranteed—that you could get us home. That's the only reason we came through the gate in the first place."

The sand behind O'Neill swirled up into twin twisters which then transformed into Skaara and Kawalski—O'Neill's men—who looked equally irate at Daniel's ineptitude. Their eyes flashed a cold white and Skaara spoke, his voice the deep, resonant bass of a Goa'uld. "Bring us home, Dan-yel."

"Tell him," said Goa'uld-Kawalski, his glowing eyes turning to look at the back of Jack's head menacingly.

Suddenly the desert sand disappeared and became a forest, and Daniel was flying through it. He was floating near the treetops, following the movements of an SG team on the ground below him. The team entered a clearing, moving cautiously, watching each other's backs, and Daniel swooped down to join them. It was SG-1—O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Jonas—and they were being ambushed. Daniel stood there watching as the team was completely surrounded by Jaffa . Staff blasts exploded all around, and the clearing was filled with the deafening stutter of P-90 rounds.

Oma Desala floated down from her lofty vantage point and stood before him, glowing a pure, shimmering white, and looked at him with a kindly but stern expression. "You cannot tell him," she said.

"I can't just stand by and watch him get hurt," Daniel argued vehemently, watching as O'Neill's gun ran out of ammo.

"If you tell him, you'll ruin everything," Oma warned and floated up and away from him.

Daniel stood facing Jack, knowing what was going to happen but completely helpless to prevent it. As Jack loaded another magazine into his P-90 a staff blast caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around in a sickening pirouette before dropping him to the ground. Carter rushed over to him and turned him over, and he flopped lifelessly onto his back, pitchy blood and scorched cloth making a mess of his left shoulder. He was clearly unconscious, and yet he opened his eyes and stared directly up at Daniel.

Sitting watching in the observation lounge, Dr. Fraiser turned to Jacob, rubbing at her grainy eyes. They'd been watching for hours, and seemed to be getting nowhere. "Are all dreams this complicated?" she asked.

Jacob smiled at her. "Actually, of all the dreams I've watched, Dr. Jackson's are probably the most comprehensible."

"Actually, it's kind of fascinating," said Janet. "Half his dreams aren't even in English. Some of them were in Goa'uld, weren't they?"

Jacob nodded. "Fluent Goa'uld—with an unusual accent—but otherwise flawless."

"Fascinating, maybe, but not what we're looking for. I'm starting to think we may have a long search ahead of us."

There was a knock at the door and Colonel O'Neill popped his head in. "Hey, Doc. Sorry to barge in like this, but you're needed in the infirmary. Silas and his crew were working on the FRED, and apparently it collapsed on a couple of them. It's complete chaos—you better get down there."

Fraiser's eyes went wide—the FRED was a heavy piece of equipment, and if it fell on someone they'd be lucky to walk away from it in one piece. She looked at Jacob then through the window at Daniel.

"Go on," said O'Neill. "I'll cover you." When she looked at him uncertainly, he added: "C'mon Doc, this is Daniel we're talking about. We're so close, when he sneezes, I wipe my nose."

Fraiser smiled gratefully at him and hurried from the room. As soon as she was gone, O'Neill sat down in her still-warm chair and looked up at the holographic projection. Then he fished around in his pockets and dug out a bag of trail mix.

Jacob sighed and shook his head. "Nothing so far. But I gotta tell ya, I'm not surprised Daniel had a hard time falling asleep. If I had as many nightmares as he has, I'd probably never want to sleep again."

"Comes with the territory, I guess," said Jack casually. He tried to fool himself, but in the pit of his stomach he had to admit the comment really bothered him. Sure, the kid had been through a hell of a lot, but Jack had had no idea it was affecting him so badly. He was his CO. He should have known about the nightmares.

Jack sat for a while watching Daniel sleep, instead of the projected images he was supposed to be watching. Daniel was stretched out on his back, his hands tucked under his head, his legs splayed and twisted around the blankets. The pose reminded Jack of a golden retriever he'd had when he was a kid. Her name was Kit, and she was the most affectionate and loyal creature he'd ever known. She would lie like that, too—her belly exposed and vulnerable, letting him pet her—trusting him unconditionally. Jack found it amazing that after all he'd been through, and even now, in the grip of his nightmares, Daniel still managed to remain so trusting and vulnerable.

Jack cleared his throat and marshalled his straying thoughts. He was here to look for a bomb, not to eyeball Daniel's exposed belly. He wrenched his eyes away from his friend and tried to concentrate on the shifting images of the hologram. "What, exactly, are we looking at here?" he asked.

"All his dreams seem to have a common theme—they all involve you and your team."

"Not surprising," Jack replied. "We spend more time together than we spend apart." He sat quietly eating trail mix for a moment until a thought occurred to him. "Hang on—you said he was having nightmares...does that mean his nightmares are about us?"

Jack gave him a petulant glare, but dutifully returned his attention to the holographic dreams. "Hey! I recognize this place," said Jack. "Those cliffs, that beach...that was PX9-something-or-other. We went there a couple of weeks ago. Beautiful planet—sea caverns filled with ruins—Daniel was in Heaven."

//The tide had come in while they were busy exploring the caverns that contained the ancient relics Daniel was so excited about. Luckily they were well above sea level and didn't have to worry about getting flooded, but their passage out of the caverns now lay under several feet of churning ocean. They were essentially trapped until low tide.

Still, it could be worse—at least they had a pretty view from the cavern's mouth. Teal'c and Sam were setting up camp, getting a fire started and preparing to make dinner. Daniel was leaning against the cavern's entrance watching in awe as the setting sun filled the alien sky with a truly stunning palette of colours. Out of the corner of his eye he saw O'Neill coming up to stand beside him.

"Can't say I have," Jack answered, and as Daniel turned to look at him, he could have sworn he caught Jack quickly looking away, as if he'd been watching him and not the sunset when he'd answered the question.

Of course Daniel knew that was absurd...just wishful thinking on his part. And yet he couldn't help wondering if just maybe...

Daniel shook the delusions out of his head when he realised he'd been staring at Jack. "What? Nothing," he answered quickly.

"Teal'c's right, Daniel," Carter added as she coaxed the flames of the fire a little higher. "Tell him, or bit by bit, this thing's gonna kill you."

Daniel's tongue darted out to wet his lips. Jack was now watching him curiously.

"It's nothing," Daniel replied and glared at Carter, who smiled sweetly back at him.

"If you've got something to say to me, say it," said Jack. "You know how much I hate secrets."

"Of course—why else would you join a top-secret military organisation?" Daniel quipped facetiously.

"Fine," said Jack. "We'll have to do this the hard way, then." Jack stepped in closer and brought his hand up to cup Daniel's cheek. "Does it have anything to do with this, perhaps?" asked Jack, stroking Daniel's cheek with his thumb.

Daniel's breath hitched in his throat and he couldn't help leaning into the touch. He nuzzled his face against the palm of Jack's hand, closing his eyes to fully savour the moment. When he opened them again, Jack was only inches away, his skin tinted warm ochre by the setting sun, his rich brown eyes burning right through him.

"Or maybe it's more about..." Jack said softly, leaning in as he spoke until his lips were on Daniel's, effectively finishing the sentence.

Pressed up against the cavern wall, Daniel let out a strangled whimper before giving in and returning the kiss. It soon became heated, and as Jack kissed scorching trails along his jaw and down his neck, Daniel arched into him with a mewling moan, guiding Jack's advances with trembling hands.

Daniel's eyes cracked open and he noticed Sam and Teal'c observing them in an oddly detached way as they ate their dinner rations. It was enough to distract Daniel from the attentions Jack was paying him, and Jack pulled back, annoyed.

"Don't look at them, look at me," said Jack. "That is, unless you'd rather be over there with them. Go ahead if you want, but I can guarantee you'll have more fun here with me."

Jack's hand took a sudden detour and ended up firmly entrenched between Daniel's legs. The move caught Daniel by surprise and his head flew back hard enough to knock against the stone wall painfully. Daniel hardly noticed, distracted as he was by the unexpected massage Jack was giving him. In no time at all he was achingly erect, his hips rocking against Jacks' hand, desperately trying to increase the friction. Jack obliged, at first, rubbing him harder, getting him close to release...and then he stopped. Without warning, Jack stepped back, leaving Daniel panting and pleading for more.

Jack stepped in again, so close his body heat seeped into Daniel, but not close enough to actually touch him. Daniel wanted more than anything to close the gap between them, to feel Jack's body against his again, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. Jack toyed with him, his hands hovering over him, almost but not quite touching. The frustration and the throbbing ache in his groin quickly had Daniel shaking from head to foot.

Daniel's chest heaved with the effort of resisting him, his blue eyes so dark with need they were almost entirely black. "Please," he begged once more.

"Tell me, Daniel," Jack whispered in his ear, his breath stirring up goose flesh all over Daniel's body.

It was more than Daniel could bear. His throat was so tight with emotion the words nearly didn't come out at all. "I love you, Jack. Oh, God, I love you so much!"

The tender kisses he expected to follow never came. Instead, Jack shoved him forcefully against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Jack slowly withdrew a few feet and was joined by Teal'c and Carter. Daniel slid down the wall, his knees buckling beneath him as he looked up at Jack in confusion.

O'Neill cocked his head at him, his eyes cold and distant. "You're pathetic. Did you really think it would be any different this time?"

Carter and Teal'c took their place on either side of O'Neill, and as Daniel watched, they transformed into Shau'ri and Sarah, both exhibiting the glowing white eyes of the Goa'uld residing within them. To his horror, Jack's eyes glowed white as well, and the three of them advanced on him.

"No," Daniel whimpered and he tried to back further away. The cold stone wall of the cavern blocked his retreat, and there was nowhere left to go, except... Daniel edged closer to the lip of the cavern's mouth. He peered over the edge at the fifty foot drop to the rocky tide below and licked his parched lips. All the while, O'Neill, Shau'ri and Sarah slowly gained on him, taking their time, knowing there was nowhere for him to go.

Daniel turned to watch the trio descend upon him, Jack in the lead, pulling on a ribbon device with a sadistic smirk on his face.

"Jack, if there's any part of you still in there, I'm begging you..." Searing white pain exploded behind Daniel's eyes as Jack activated the ribbon device. His body spasmed, and then curled up in a tight ball on the sandy floor of the cave as he slowly succumbed to the torture device. A spray of foamy spittle erupted from his mouth as he fought to breathe. The pain was so intense it made him yearn for death. But somehow Daniel somehow managed to grab hold of Jack's arm and with the little strength he had left in him he heaved the other man over the lip of the cavern.

Daniel's shoulder was wrenched out of its socket as Jack dangled over the edge of the cavern's opening, tenaciously gripping Daniel's wrist. Weakened and emotionally devastated, Daniel looked down at Jack and said; "I'm sorry."

"No. But you will be," said the Goa'uld in Jack, and with a mighty yank, he pulled Daniel over the edge with him and the two of them plummeted to the roaring sea below.\\

O'Neill watched the nightmare unfold with open-mouthed shock. The trail mix sat forgotten in his hands as Daniel's subconscious spilled forth and revealed his friend's deepest secrets and fears. He knew he should have looked away, but he couldn't. He was completely mesmerized, his attention torn between the projected images of the dream and Daniel, who was tossing and struggling on the cot in the other room.

When Daniel jerked awake with a terrified gasp, Jack was suddenly jerked back to reality with him. He had to get out of there—Daniel couldn't know he'd been there, watching. He looked at Jacob, his mouth still hanging open and blinked at him mutely.

Jacob knew what was going through his mind. "Go on, get out of here. I promise I won't tell him."

O'Neill nodded at him gratefully and bolted from the room, anxious to be anywhere but there.

Part 3

It took a moment for Daniel to get his bearings. If anything, the nightmare had been more intense than usual, and when he woke up in a strange bed, it only served to fuel his panic. It wasn't until Jacob Carter rushed in that he began to remember where he was and what had happened.

"Take it easy, Daniel—that was one hell of a nightmare," said Jacob, coming up to stand near the bed.

"I'm here," came her voice from the doorway. Janet hurried over to his bedside, looking distraught. "I'm so sorry, Danny. There was an emergency and I was needed in the infirmary."

A look of relief flashed across Daniel's face and he let out a deep breath. "So then you weren't here—you didn't see that last dream?"

"I'm really sorry, but I had a medical emergency, and Colonel O'Neill offered to take over for me here while I was gone," said Fraiser.

Daniel's head shot up fast at that piece of news, his eyes going wide as saucers as he gaped at Jacob. "Jack?"

Daniel took Jacob's silence for what it was—an acknowledgement that his fears were justified. Jack had seen everything. Daniel's head couldn't begin to wrap around the possible repercussions this would have. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. He needed to be alone. With a flinch of pain, Daniel detached the memory device from his temple and threw it down on the bed before shoving past Jacob and Fraiser to get out.

Jacob gave her an odd look and shook his head. "I really don't think it's my place to say."

Jack needed to pace, and he needed a quiet place to do it. It was still early, but he knew that the SGC would still be a buzzing hive of activity. He wandered the halls for a while, trying to think of a place where he could be alone. After running into three airmen and all four members of SG-8, he was starting to think he'd have to go off-world to get any peace and quiet. It was at that moment that General Hammond caught up with him.

"General, you're awake, I see," said O'Neill conversationally. "You're looking very...non-explosive."

General Hammond smiled a crinkly-eyed smile at him. "I've been given a clean bill of health," he stated proudly. "As has Dr. Jackson , from what Jacob tells me. And that means it's your turn to take a nap, Colonel."

Funny, thought Jack, how the thought of someone spying on his dreams hadn't really bothered him much until now. With the memories of Daniel's nightmare still fresh in his mind, he was worried what sorts of things his own subconscious mind might decide to make public. Whoever was watching could be in for a very entertaining show.

"Uh...about that," said Jack. "Can't it wait 'til later? I've got some, uh...stuff...to do." He winced—it sounded lame even to his own ears.

Hammond 's cool eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "Is there anything you should be telling me, Colonel?"

Jack's eyes shot up instantly to meet the general's, thinking the other man had somehow read his mind. "Um...no, I don't think so, sir," he said.

"You've been late for duty three times this last week," Hammond said. "If it had anything to do with sleep disturbances..."

Jack felt himself relax a little. "General, I don't think there's a single member of my team that can claim to sleep like a baby. Restless nights are a part of the job."

"Still, you should have mentioned that you were having problems sleeping at the debriefing," said Hammond , his voice edgy with concern. "Now I've got Major Carter in the VIP room with Shaneeth and Teal'c. I want you to report immediately to the isolation room. Jacob and Dr. Jackson can do the monitoring."

"Um, yeah...that might not be such a good idea," said Jack. "Daniel's been having a tough time with this whole nightmare thing of his—maybe he should sit this one out."

"Colonel, as much as I appreciate your concern for Dr. Jackson's well-being, there's simply no one else available. All non-essential personnel are currently being gated to the Alpha site. So unless you'd prefer me to monitor your dreams myself..."

"No!" said Jack, a little too vehemently. "No sir, that won't be necessary. I'm sure Daniel will be fine."

"Very well, then, Colonel. Off you go," said Hammond , and as Jack turned to leave he added, "Pleasant dreams."

Jack flicked a wave at Hammond as he walked away, keeping his face turned so he wouldn't see the worry in his eyes. He wasn't too thrilled at having to face Daniel. At least, not yet—he still had a lot of serious thinking to do. He needed more time.

Daniel had scarcely settled down at his desk when there was a knock at his door. A part of him seriously considered telling whomever it was to go away. In truth, right now he wished the whole world would just go away and leave him alone. He hunched lower in his chair, as if that might make him somehow less...there.

"Dr. Jackson?" The voice on the other side of the door wasn't Jack's, and Daniel felt some of the tension drain out of him.

"I'm busy," Daniel called out, hoping that would be enough to compel them to leave. It wasn't.

The door opened a crack and Sergeant Harriman peeked his head around. "Sorry, sir," he said. "General Hammond asked me to bring you down to the isolation room."

Daniel's heart nearly stopped with the certainty that they'd either found the bomb in his scan or that he was about to experience some of those repercussions he'd been worried about. "Um...is there a problem?" he asked cautiously.

"No problem," said Harriman. "But we've got to step up the bomb search now that you've been cleared, and we need you in the observation suite."

Harriman started off down the hallway as he spoke, clearly in a hurry, forcing Daniel to rush to catch up with him. "Major Carter's already being scanned," he said. "We need you to monitor Colonel O'Neill."

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks and it took Harriman a few more steps to realize he'd lost his charge.

"Dr. Jackson?" said Sgt. Harriman, falling back to where Daniel still stood frozen to the spot.

"Yeah, Walter, I'm fine," said Daniel absently, and they started back down the hall again. "I...uh...I don't suppose there's anyone else who could take my place? It's just...I have a lot of work to catch up on."

They'd been walking at a brisk pace, and before Daniel knew it he was standing in front of the observation suite door. Taking a deep breath for courage, Daniel opened the door and stepped inside, only to find he was alone in the little room. The projector was set up but was currently switched off. In two short steps, Daniel walked up to the one-way mirror and looked down into the isolation room where Jacob Carter was busy futzing around with the memory device.

As he watched, the door to the isolation room opened and Colonel O'Neill walked in. Or rather, he snuck in; like he was afraid someone might see him enter the room. Jack quickly scanned the room, giving Jacob a cursory nod of greeting before his eyes finally settled on the one-way mirror. Daniel's mouth went dry and a shiver ran down his spine as Jack's eyes somehow managed to lock onto his, despite the fact that he couldn't possibly see him through the one-way glass.

He couldn't read Jack's expression. Was he confused? Angry? Insulted? ... Disgusted? It was impossible to tell, but Daniel knew it was wishful thinking on his part to hope that Jack might be merely confused. In any case, Daniel highly doubted the colonel was all that happy about what he'd seen in his dream.

"You about ready?" asked Jacob with a sympathetic look on his face that made Jack feel like smacking the guy. He didn't need sympathy.

"I can do that," Jack said and the snatched the memory device out of the Tok'ra's hand pre-emptively, giving him a look at him that made it clear that he appreciated the offer but that he didn't want any help. He placed the device on his left temple and felt it burrow under his skin. He was ready for it, and only a tiny bit of his discomfort showed on his face. As Jacob was about to leave, Jack called out to him. "Jacob, do me a favour, would ya? When Daniel gets here, tell him..."

"Hell, I don't know. Tell him...tell him I'll see him when I wake up." He may not have been the most eloquent orator on the planet, but that little speech was pretty pathetic even by Jack's standards and he shrugged apologetically. Anyway, what was there to say? It wasn't like Jack had even had time to figure out how he felt about all this. He was upset, sure, but he couldn't say for certain what it was he was upset about. It was just a stupid dream, after all. Jack once dreamt that Hammond and Carter were the two finalists on American Idol. Dreams didn't mean anything. He knew that. Except...

Jack took one last glance at the one-way mirror, wondering if Daniel was there watching him already. He gave his reflection a terse little smile and lay down on the cot.

"Yeah—that never gets old," Jack quipped and watched as the older man took his leave.

Jack closed his eyes and turned onto his right side like he did every night when he went to bed. He fluffed up the pillow and nestled his head into it, drawing in a deep, relaxing breath. The pillow smelled like Daniel, he thought—Daniel had lain in this very bed only a short while ago and dreamt about him. Dreamt? More like 'fantasized'. Jack's eyes popped open and he let out a soft groan. As if this wasn't hard enough as it was... He rolled onto his back, which wasn't as comfortable, but at least his face was no longer engulfed in the familiar scent of Daniel Jackson. And wasn't it strange that until now he hadn't even been aware that he knew what Daniel smelled like?

When Jacob entered the observation suite, it was to find a very sullen and silent Dr. Jackson, sitting there waiting like a prisoner about to be sentenced. He took a seat next to the archaeologist, trying to make eye contact and failing miserably. Daniel's eyes were glued on Jack, his expression impenetrable.

"I know," Daniel answered sombrely. And when Jacob was busy preparing the projector, he added almost inaudibly, "It's mine."

//The pond was as quiet and peaceful as ever—a sanctuary that only a handful of close friends ever got the privilege of visiting. The beauty of it was that there were absolutely zero distractions. Just the cottage, the dock, a fishing pole and the dappled water, glinting in the sunlight.

The word 'tranquil' sprang to mind when he looked out at the calm water. Jack liked the sound of it—it seemed to embody the very essence of what his hideaway was about. "Tranquil," he said aloud, letting the word roll off his tongue.

"Indeed," Teal'c said as he joined Jack on the dock. The formidable warrior was decked out in white shorts and a florid Hawaiian shirt, the blinding outfit being topped off with a fisherman's hat, replete with brightly-coloured lures. Jack watched the stoic Jaffa set up a lounge chair next to him and then pick up his staff weapon before settling down into his seat.

Jack sighed and cast his line out into the water with a plop, ripple rings marking the place where his lure landed. "I thought we went over this before, T. It's not about catching fish—I don't even have fish in my pond. It's about spending time with friends in a nice, safe, and most of all, quiet place. Tell him, Carter."

Sam had arrived, dragging another lounge chair onto the already overcrowded dock, and doing her best to squeeze in between Teal'c and Jack. "Sorry, sir, I'm with Teal'c on this one. I'd rather have a naquadria bomb to play with any day."

"Are you nuts?" said Jack. "This is perfection here. Or...well...almost. Where's Daniel? He said he'd be here."

"Do you not remember, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c, his eyebrow arched so high it made his forehead buckle around his golden brand.

Sam gently laid her hand on Jack's forearm. "Daniel's dead, Jack. He's been gone almost a year now."

Jack looked at her as if to say 'and I thought I was the dense one'. "What're you talking about? Danny's not dead. Look—see? Here he comes now." Daniel had sauntered around the side of the cottage and had come to a stop next to a large orange and white cooler that sat on the pristine lawn. He was wearing an off-white sweater and khaki pants despite the heat, and his blue eyes looked back at him without the aid of his glasses. "Daniel!" Jack yelled out. "Get your ascended ass over here, and bring me a beer while you're at it."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at Jack. "You know I can't do that, Jack. I'm not allowed to interfere."

"I'm talking to Daniel," Jack answered. "Can't you see him? He's right over there." He pointed at his friend, who waved back at him from the lawn. Sam and Teal'c looked to where he was pointing, but they obviously saw nothing there. "Never mind. I guess I'll have to get my own damn beer."

Jack set his fishing rod down and squeezed past Sam, quickly covering the distance between him and Daniel. "What's your problem?" he asked the younger man.

"What do you mean?" asked Daniel, his lips doing that slightly pouty thing that drove Jack up the wall.

"It's a beer for cryin' out loud! It's not as if I'm asking you to save me from being tortured to death over and over, or anything."

The frown returned to Daniel's face and deepened until he looked downright pained. "You know I would have..."

"Don't give me that non-interference crap. You were there. You could have helped me, but you chose not to. Hell, you wouldn't even give me a reassuring pat on the shoulder! Do you have any idea what it was like having you there and not even being able to touch you?" Jack lifted his hand to Daniel's cheek as if he wanted to caress it, but it passed through him without making contact.

"You're not allowed to touch me," said Daniel with a deep sadness in his blue eyes.

The sound of repeated staff-weapon blasts cut short their conversation. Teal'c had apparently decided to take fishing into his own hands, and the entire pond was alight with the orange glow of the energy weapon.

"Colonel O'Neill, I thought you said there were no fish in your pond," Teal'c called out over his shoulder.

"Then, are these not fish?" asked Teal'c, making a broad sweeping gesture with his staff weapon across the pond. Several bloated white shapes had floated to the surface. Far too large to be fish, Jack had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what they were. When he reached the dock and got close enough to see what the Jaffa 's weapon had brought to the surface, his greatest fears were realized.

Ghostly white and unmistakably dead, the body of Daniel Jackson drifted just beneath the surface of the water, so close to shore that Jack could almost reach out and touch him. His friend's dead blue eyes had milked over, and there was something lodged in his mouth. Something that didn't belong there. Something that looked like a carved stone, but couldn't be, because stones didn't glow like that. In the pond, hundreds of dead Daniels bobbed to the surface, each with cloudy white eyes and glowing stone mouths.

Sam shrugged and cast her fishing line out into the water. It snagged one of the floating bodies and she began to reel it in, grinning at Jack as she did. "I caught one, sir!" she announced proudly.

The body at the end of her line made a sickening thunking sound as it struck the wooden dock and Teal'c helped Jack haul it over the side of the dock with a grunt of effort. Flipping Daniel's naked body over onto its back, Jack reeled backwards, as much from the sweet reek of rotting flesh as from the horrific sight that met his eyes. Parts of Daniel's body had started to split open and peel away, and beneath his skin...

Jack backed further away, half-falling over Carter as she knelt down next to the corpse to get a closer look. Jack gagged slightly as she poked at the body, tugging the water-bloated flesh apart to reveal what looked like stone beneath. The stone was covered in Goa'uld symbols, glowing red with some sort of internal energy.

Ascended Daniel wandered up to Jack, his hands thrust deep into his pants' pockets and looked down at his own dead body with an almost child-like curiosity. "It's Goa'uld," he said.

"Well...duh," said Jack. "What does it say, mister I-know-the-secrets-of-the-universe?"

Daniel gave him his patented look of patient indulgence and knelt down on the dock next to Carter.

"Are you two about done with the pleasantries?" Jack said, rolling his hands in the air at them to get on with it.

"Right," said Daniel. "Well...these symbols here, along the outer ring on my chest are numbers in a descending sequence. See?" he said, as the glowing symbols flashed in a slow and steady chase around the perimeter of the corpse's torso. "It's counting down."

"It's a bomb?" asked Jack and Sam simultaneously. Daniel nodded at them, pleased that they'd caught on so quickly.

"Oh, don't worry," said Daniel as he stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. "You've still got a good three hours." He smiled serenely at Jack. "Plenty of time."\\

Up in the observation suite, Daniel and Jacob were suspended in a bubble of shock and disbelief.

"Can't be," Jacob chimed in. "That can't be right. We should have three days, not hours! The Daniel in the dream must have read the symbols wrong."

Daniel swallowed hard and licked his lips nervously. "No. He...I was right—according to the symbols in the dream, the countdown gives us just under three hours to diffuse the bomb."

Part 4

Jack was the last one to arrive at the Briefing Room, having been rudely shaken awake by Jacob after what seemed like only a few minute's sleep. General Hammond had called an emergency meeting the second Daniel had informed him of their new, fast-approaching deadline. And now Carter, Teal'c, Hammond and the two Tok'ra all stopped what they were doing and watched Jack enter the room and take his seat at the table. Jack couldn't help but notice that the only one who didn't look up was Daniel. Instead, the younger man studiously avoided looking in his direction. Jack sighed—if he got through this in one piece, he knew they'd have to have a little talk. But right now he had more urgent matters on his mind. Quite literally.

"As you all know by now," said General Hammond, "we are rapidly running out of time on this one. We need options, people."

"Sir," said Carter, "couldn't we just send a bomb through the Stargate to destroy the power source?"

"We've already tried that," said Shaneeth with typical Tok'ra smugness. "It was disabled before it had a chance to destroy the target."

"Again—high tech," said Carter. "What if we kept it simple, like a grenade or a basic missile? With no electronic components, there would be nothing for the weapon to disable."

"We've thought of that, too," said Shaneeth, making Carter's jaw clench in annoyance. "The power source is too close to the Stargate—the detonation would occur almost instantly. There wouldn't be enough time for you to close your iris."

"Well that shouldn't matter, should it?" asked Jack. "I mean, I'm no astrophysicist or anything, but I thought things could only go one way through a wormhole. That is what you told us, isn't it Carter?"

Sam smiled at him like a grade school teacher who'd finally got through to an inattentive student. "You're right, Colonel. Matter can only travel one way through a wormhole; but other things, like radio waves and certain types of energy can travel both directions."

Shaneeth, seemingly unwilling to be one-upped by a human, quickly added her two cents: "The power source is most likely shielded. It would take a very powerful explosion to take it out. The primitive weapons at your disposal may not have the capability of travelling back along the open wormhole, but we must assume the device is naqahdah based."

"And if our detonation of the device ignites the naqahdah inside it, the shock wave travelling back through the wormhole would destroy this whole compound." Sam's sapphire eye's flashed at Shaneeth as if to say 'two can play at that game'.

There was a moment's stillness as everyone around the table chewed on that last piece of information. It was Daniel who finally broke the silence. "Do we have any idea what killed the Tok'ra who volunteered to 'gate through to the planet?" he asked. "Because if he was killed by radiation or toxins in the air, someone in a hazmat suit might be able to make it through and destroy the power source manually."

"No such luck, I'm afraid, Daniel," said Carter. "The boys in the computer lab were able to clean up the video we received from the MALP. From the looks of it, he was shot by a staff blast as soon as he stepped out of the 'gate. Which means there's either someone guarding the power source, or it's been equipped with a motion-triggered defence system of some kind."

Jack shifted forward in his chair and laced his hands across the tabletop. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but aren't you guys overlooking the most obvious solution?" When no one answered, he gamely continued: "Why not just send me through the Stargate? If this thing in my head's gonna blow anyway, I might as well take the weapon out with me."

"Of course that's the obvious solution," said Shaneeth condescendingly. "That's exactly why it wouldn't work—Anubis would expect you to try it, and will have undoubtedly rigged the device to detonate should you attempt to pass through the Stargate."

"You're assuming a lot, there," said Jack, who was visibly bristling at her tone of voice.

Shaneeth arched her eyebrow at him. "I am. For instance, I assume that you haven't been off-world in the last week."

"SG-1's been on stand down since their last mission over a week ago," General Hammond confirmed, eliciting a smug look from Shaneeth.

"Are you really willing to take the risk?" asked Shaneeth. "Because if I'm right—and I am—then attempting to leave through the Stargate would result in the destruction of this complex and half your planet as well."

General Hammond consulted his wristwatch and abruptly got to his feet, his officers following suit. "I feel like we're spinning our wheels, here, folks. Now, there's two hours and twenty-five minutes left until detonation. I want a solution, and I don't think sitting here in this room cutting down everyone's ideas is going to make that happen. I'm giving you all twenty-five minutes to go off and brainstorm, and then we'll meet back here and try this again. If we still have no answer to this problem then I'll have no choice but to order Colonel O'Neill to take one of the F-302s and head as far away from Earth as possible in the time left." No one at the table looked pleased, but the general's steely gaze brooked no argument. "Dismissed."

General Hammond led a trail of grim-faced and determined people out of the room. Only Daniel remained seated at the long table, watching everyone file out the door. Watching Jack gather his notes, hesitate briefly, cast a furtive glance his way, and then follow the others out without a word. If he'd had any doubts before, they were gone now—he'd lost Jack. One stupid nightmare and he'd lost his closest friend.

An idea had been brewing in the back of Daniel's mind during the briefing. It was an insane idea, and it might not even work, so he'd decided to keep it to himself. Besides, if Hammond got wind of what he was planning, he'd probably go ballistic and have him locked up. He knew he must be crazy to even consider it, but he honestly couldn't think of a better way out of this mess.

Twenty-five minutes. It wasn't a lot of time, and he'd have to work alone. First things first, though—he had a letter to write.

As Jack left the Briefing Room he couldn't help stealing one last glance at Daniel, hoping to finally make eye contact with the other man. The problem was, when he got what he'd hoped for he didn't know what to do about it. Daniel had pulled out all the stops, and his expression was as pathetic and dejected as that of a lost puppy in a rainstorm.

But now just wasn't a good time. In less than half an hour he'd be hurtling halfway across the solar system, and in less than three hours he would leave this existence with a spectacularly big light show, scattering his atoms all over the galaxy. He wasn't kidding himself that they'd miraculously pull a solution out of their collective scientific asses this time. The Tok'ra had been working on the problem for days already and even they hadn't come up with anything useful. On the bright side, at least this death would be quick and painless...unlike several others he'd had to endure.

Enough time to put some of his affairs in order, he knew, but he just couldn't stomach the idea of spending his last moments on Earth making phone calls. Besides, there was really no one out there in the real world he wanted to talk to. His only connection out there was Sara, and he didn't think it was fair to dump this in her lap now. In any case, his life...his family...over the last seven years had been SG-1. They were the only one's he wanted to be with right now.

Jack paused as he reached the Control Room. Down below in the Gate Room, the last of the base's personnel were preparing to 'gate through to the Alpha Site. Sgt. Harriman, sitting at the controls, acknowledged his presence with a sad, knowing smile and then returned to his keyboard to enter the first chevron of the Alpha Site address.

Twenty-five minutes left, and his main regret was that everyone was too busy trying to save the planet to give him a proper send-off. He felt a bit like a fifth wheel, and decided he might as well make himself useful with what little time he had left. With jaw-clenching determination, he headed out for the hangar to help prep the F-302 for departure.

Daniel, perched at the top of the spiral staircase, waited until Jack left before quietly descending into the Control Room himself. Sergeant Harriman was too busy dialling the Stargate to notice him slip out of the room behind him. The hallways were deserted, which suited him fine. The fewer people who saw what he was up to, the fewer lies he'd have to tell. The first stop was his lab to write that letter, and then it was off to the armoury.

In a way he was glad he had so little time—if he had more time to think about what he was doing he might change his mind.

It turned out Jack's help wasn't needed in the hangar. The F-302 had already been fuelled up and prepped for launch. With a sigh, he checked his watch. Eighteen minutes and counting. Jack chewed the inside of his cheek as he debated whether or not he should use the time remaining to track down Daniel. He didn't want to leave things the way they were between them. He couldn't fly off to meet his fate knowing that Daniel thought he was mad at him. It wouldn't be right—Daniel deserved the truth—he wasn't angry, he was just...shaken.

His mind made up, Jack made his way to the 18th floor and Daniel's lab. Once there, he steadied himself with a couple of deep breaths and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and no sounds coming from inside. Jack's gut told him something was wrong and he pushed the door open. Daniel wasn't there, but there was an envelope taped to the lamp on his desk, and as Jack got closer, he saw his name written on it in Daniel's familiar scrawl. He plucked the envelope off the lamp, but before he had a chance to open it, the claxon alarms went off.

"Unauthorised 'gate activation," the automated voice announced over the PA system. "All hands to the Embarkation Room."

That feeling in Jack's gut jumped up several degrees in intensity and he bolted from the lab. He really hoped his gut was wrong this time.

Daniel's heart thumped painfully against his ribs, the rush of blood in his veins nearly deafening him as he re-entered the Control Room. Everything had gone smoothly until that point. He should have known it couldn't be this easy—Sergeant Harriman should have left by now. There was no logical reason for him to be in the Control Room now that the last of the personnel had been evacuated. Yet there he was, staring at him wide-eyed and about to raise the alarm.

As much as it pained him to do it, Daniel had no choice. "I'm so sorry, Walter," he said, and he raised his zat gun and fired a quick blast at the unsuspecting officer. Harriman writhed in pain as blue lightning tore through him, until blessed unconsciousness finally claimed him and he slumped to the floor in a heap.

His lips pressed in a hard, determined line, Daniel dragged Walter's limp body away from the controls and took over his seat at the computer. He wasn't nearly as adept at computers as Sam was, but he'd been at this long enough to know his way around the Control Room. He quickly entered the 'gate address into the computer and hit 'enter'. As he expected, the claxon sounded even as the Stargate sprang to life below him. In his head he could hear Harriman call out the familiar words: 'Chevron one, encoded'. He spared the unconscious man a brief look of regret for the pain he'd caused him, and then he shot the keyboard with the zat, and raced down the stairs and into the Gate Room.

He knew he would have very little time, now that the alarm had sounded; but it was more time than he would normally have had, thanks to the fact that only a handful of SGC personnel were left on the premises. From inside the Gate Room, he manually sealed the blast doors and disengaged the iris. The Stargate rumbled ominously...four more chevrons...three more...

Daniel made one last check to make sure he had everything he needed for his one-way trip.

Jack made it down to the Control Room just as Carter did, and they found General Hammond already stationed at the computer, staring down at the fried keyboard in front of him. Teal'c arrived just as the last chevron locked into place and the event horizon burst outward in a flash of blue-white light.

"Hell if I know," he answered her. In the Gate Room below, Dr. Daniel Jackson slowly marched up the ramp towards the stone ring, a large white flag in one hand. Hammond flicked on the intercom. "Doctor Jackson, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Step away from the Stargate. That's an order!"

Daniel paused a second, but then kept on going without even acknowledging the command.

Jack crowded up to the general, taking over the intercom. "Daniel! Get your ass back here, right now! We can talk things over—there's no need for this."

At the sound of Jack's voice, Daniel finally stopped, only a couple of feet from the event horizon. He turned around, needing to see his friend one last time.

Jack's breath caught in his throat, and he heard gasps of disbelief issuing from the others in the room. Daniel's flak vest was completely bricked up with C4, the wire leads sprouting out of him like a porcupine's quills, ending in a dead-man's trigger which Daniel held firmly in his left hand. Daniel's face was ashen, his eyes wide and dark with fear, but there was no mistaking the look of stubborn resolution on his face.

Daniel looked up at the astounded faces of his friends and licked his dry lips. "This is the only way," he said, his voice sounding eerily calm. "I can do this—I have to do this. I'm sorry." He gave them a weak shrug and turned back to the Stargate. With the white flag held high in front of him he approached the event horizon, going so slowly that he was barely moving at all by the time he was sucked into the wormhole.

"No, dammit!" yelled Jack into the intercom. But it was too late. Daniel was gone.

Part 5

Four pairs of eyes were glued to the Stargate, watching helplessly as ripples fanned out across the event horizon where Daniel Jackson had just gone through. Ten painful seconds passed in utter silence and then the wormhole disengaged with a whoosh and the Gate Room went dark.

"I think he knew that, Carter," said Jack quietly, running his fingers along the edge of the envelope he still clutched in his hands.

Carter looked at the charred keyboard and frowned. "I won't know until I take a closer look, but if it's just the keyboard that needs replacing it shouldn't take that long."

A deep-throated groan sounded from the shadows behind them and they spun around in unison, Teal'c poised, ready to attack if need be. They'd been so focused on the Gate Room that they'd failed to notice the still form of Sgt. Harriman leaning up against the far wall, a zat gun lying at his feet. They quickly gathered around him, helping him to sit up.

Harriman's eyes grew wide as his mind cleared from the effects of the zat blast. "Sir! Dr. Jackson..."

"We know, Walter," Jack said in a kindly voice, even though he wanted to scream and shout and maybe even hit something really hard. "What happened?"

Harriman rubbed the back of his head, scoping out the borders of the bump he'd received when he hit the floor earlier. "He came in here looking like some kind of mad suicide bomber, said he was sorry, then zatted me."

"Typical," Jack muttered to himself, absently spinning the envelope around between his fingers.

"Huh? Oh this? It's nothing, Major," Jack answered, and then quickly changed the subject. "General, request permission to organise a rescue mission?"

"Permission denied," said Hammond , lifting a hand to block the vociferous argument Jack was undoubtedly about to lob at him. "What Dr. Jackson did was reckless—hell, it was downright suicidal if you want my honest opinion—and I refuse to put anyone else's life at risk."

"With all due respect, sir," said Jack tersely, "this is Daniel we're talking about. We can't just give up on him."

General Hammond's expression softened. He knew how much Daniel Jackson meant to everyone in the room—himself included. In fact, there wasn't a soul in the SGC who wouldn't gladly volunteer to go after him, no matter what the risk. But it was his job to face the ugly truths and make the impossible decisions.

"Son," he said softly. "I know how much you want to bring him back, but I think we all know it's too late for that—Dr. Jackson was gone the second he stepped through that wormhole. As much as it grieves me to say this, we have to accept that he made a choice, however foolhardy, and he knew he wouldn't be coming back."

"You don't have a choice," Hammond countered, matching Jack glare for glare. "We're out of time, Colonel, so I suggest we get upstairs and see it anyone's come up with a way out of this mess. I don't want to lose any more good men today."

The screeching, chaotic transition through the wormhole was always a little disconcerting, but rematerializing on the other side fully expecting to get blown away made for a whole new level of discomfort. As Daniel slowly stepped through the 'gate, the first thing he was aware of was the sharp whine of an energy blast sizzling dangerously close to his head. It took everything in his power to fight his instinct to duck and run, and to remain perfectly still.

Another blast—again, disquietingly close to his head—zipped past him, but left him unharmed. As he'd hoped, the large white flag he was holding above his head was fluttering in the wind, drawing fire from the power source's motion-sensitive defence system. It gave him a chance to assess his surroundings.

The air was humid and warm, the wind gusting in the aftermath of a rainstorm, and the ground at his feet was soft and marshy. A tropical climate, then, he decided—and from the looks of the heavy clouds above, he'd arrived during the rainy season. He wasn't about to complain, though—the strong wind was all that was keeping him alive at the moment.

The dense foliage had been cleared around the Stargate, leaving a bald spot the size of a baseball field in the middle of the rainforest. He scanned the tree-line, but he found no signs of life, no indications of any patrols or guards in the vicinity.

The MALP and the Tok'ra's scouting device were nearby and both were shot full of holes, the remnants too insubstantial to provide cover. The body of the Tok'ra volunteer lay at his feet, his sightless eyes staring up at the sky, and the large, gaping wound in his chest teeming with larval insects. Daniel quickly looked away, thinking how close he was to sharing this man's fate.

The power source was several feet away—it would only take a handful of steps to reach it—but with its energy weapon aimed in his direction, any sudden move would get him thoroughly blasted, just like the Tok'ra. If he were to move slowly enough, however...

Daniel decided he'd have to test his theory eventually, and took a tentative and diminutive step forward. To his great relief, he wasn't instantly blown away. As he'd predicted, the fluttering flag made for a better target than he did, and the weapon continued to shoot at the large flapping cloth.

Careful to keep his movements to a bare minimum, Daniel took advantage of the soft dirt and planted the long flag pole into the ground. His plan was to sneak around the side of the power source towards the back of it, while the flag kept the motion sensors busy. However, a sidelong glance at the flag told him it wouldn't hold out much longer against the persistent barrage of weapon's blasts. He was left with a tough choice—pick up the pace now and risk drawing fire from the defence mechanism, or continue to take it slow and risk being caught in the open when the flag inevitably gave up the ghost and could no longer provide cover.

Steeling himself for the very real possibility that he might have just made the last bad decision of his life, Daniel took a deep breath and took a large step forward. The weapon paused momentarily in its onslaught against the flag, but by the time it swivelled towards him, Daniel had already frozen in place, denying the weapon of a moving target, and it went back to destroying the flag. He repeated the nerve-racking process three more times, building up enough of a nervous sweat to make his hand slick on the dead-man's trigger. He gripped it tighter, mortified at the thought of coming this far only to be taken down by his own clumsiness.

One last step brought him around to the far side of the power source and out of reach of the defence weapon's swivel range. Daniel crouched down and crawled the last couple of feet to the power source, not taking any chances. Behind him, the tattered remains of his flag rained to the ground like a pathetic ticker-tape parade and the whine of the weapon's fire came to a stop. Daniel sagged in relief, unable to believe his good luck.

Six inches shy of the power source, Daniel encountered a force shield. He'd been expecting it, and he only hoped it was the kind of shield that was penetrable at low velocities. He tested the barrier, his fingers skating across the golden, shimmering field. It yielded to his touch, allowing his hand to pass through. Evidently Anubis was confident no one would make it close enough to the power source to be a threat. Daniel's lips curled up in a tight smile—semi-ascended or not, Anubis was still a Goa'uld and prone to the same inflated ego that had marked the downfall of several lesser false gods.

Taking a moment to steady his nerves, Daniel fished through his pant's pockets and pulled out a pair of slim wire cutters. It was time to put the second part of his plan in motion—but, seeing as he hadn't expected to survive the first part of the plan, he hadn't put a whole lot of thought into the second part. He'd learned enough about bombs in the last several years to know how to deploy them, but this was the first time he'd ever had to build one, and he was praying he'd done it right. Because if he hadn't, and he sliced into the wrong wire...

What the hell, he thought; if he blew himself to Kingdom Come, at least he'd die knowing he'd taken the power source with him.

Holding his breath, Daniel carefully separated the red wire from the black wire on the trigger and made a decisive snip through the red one. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the earth shattering kaboom, and when nothing happened he chanced a peek to confirm that he was still in one piece and not a bunch of little ones. His breath escaped in a stuttering wheeze and he wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket.

One more snip and the trigger was safely disconnected from his homemade bomb. Daniel quickly shrugged off the C4-laden vest, glad to be free of it. He then dug through the pockets of his BDU's for the timing device he'd brought along with him. All he had to do now was attach the lead wires to the timer, set the clock for a five minute countdown, and make a run for it. So long as the power source wasn't fuelled by naquadria, he figured five minutes would give him enough time to make it clear of the blast radius.

As Daniel finished hooking up the timer, the thought occurred to him that this was all just a little bit too easy. Why wasn't the power source more heavily protected? He supposed that since the Tok'ra operative in Anubis' ranks had managed to leak the Intel on the bomb without blowing his cover, Anubis had no reason to believe his device was in any immediate danger of being discovered. So it made sense that Anubis wouldn't waste his resources protecting something he believed to be safe.

Still...Daniel couldn't fight the nagging feeling that his luck was about to run out. Wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes, he carefully placed the makeshift bomb inside the power source's protective shielding and set the timer for five minutes. The red digital readout blinked twice and then started counting down. 4:59...4:58...4:57...

Daniel scrambled away from the power source in a half-crouch, half expecting the defence weapon to swivel past its range and shoot him down any second. But his luck continued to hold, and the blast weapon remained aimed at the Stargate. With a renewed sense of hope, Daniel sprinted towards the tree-line at top speed. His lungs burned as they struggled to take in as much of the muggy air as they could to keep him going. When he hit the tree-line he kept running, the thick foliage scarcely slowing him as rubbery leaves slapped at him and razor-sharp fronds slashed at his clothes, hands and face.

His legs were nearly numb from pounding repeatedly against the marshy ground and a painful stitch in his side was threatening to overwhelm him, but he ignored it and ran for all he was worth. He felt like he'd been running full speed for hours, not minutes. Surely the timer must be close, he thought...

Suddenly the foliage that had been assailing him disappeared, and before his mind could fully grasp what that meant, he found himself plummeting down the steep face of a ravine.

The cliff face was mostly peat and soft earth, but it was freckled throughout with scree made up of hard boulders, and it seemed to Daniel like he was bouncing off every one of them on the way down. One particularly hard jounce against a boulder had Daniel shouting out in pain—from the sickening snapping sound and the way his right arm wouldn't move the way it was supposed to, he knew he'd received a bad break. Desperate to slow his descent before he could sustain further injury, he dug into the dirt with his remaining limbs. The slope was becoming gentler as he neared the bottom of the ravine, and he was starting to slow down, when the explosion hit...

This wasn't how Jack wanted to go—alone in space, facing a pointless death. He kept thinking he should be doing something—fighting it somehow. But the best minds of the SGC and the Tok'ra had drawn a complete blank, and this was the only thing they could come up with to save Earth. Part of him envied Daniel—at least he'd gone out fighting.

Jack swallowed past a heavy lump in his throat. He'd been doing his best not to think about Daniel; it only opened up a world of confusion and guilt. But now, out in the middle of nowhere and all alone, he found it impossible not to think about him. A vivid image popped into his head. It was from Daniel's nightmare, but to his surprise, it wasn't the steamy embrace that sprang to mind, but the devastated look on Daniel's face when he realized his declaration of love had turned Jack into a Goa'uld.

The poor guy had never had a relationship that hadn't ended in tragedy, so far as Jack knew. Shau'ri, Sarah, Ke'ra...it seemed like every woman he fell in love with had turned evil on him. So maybe it made sense that Daniel might turn his attentions towards him—after all, what could be safer than a guaranteed unrequited love? You can't lose what you never really had, right? ...Except, Daniel hadn't even been allowed that much—his mind had twisted it to fit the pattern, and the Goa'uld Jack of his nightmares had been born.

Jack shook his head, clearing those thoughts away. He knew he was reading too much into it—it was just a dream, he kept reminding himself.

He checked his watch and got a jolt of reality—less than two minutes left until detonation. Time just flies when you're about to die, he thought grimly.

The envelope Daniel had left for him was tucked into his jacket pocket, still unopened. He'd put off opening it until the last minute—literally—and now he couldn't bring himself to open it at all. He didn't want to spend his last remaining moments reading his best friend's suicide note. He wanted happy thoughts to fill those last few seconds.

Closing his eyes, Jack tried to focus on his happiest memory—the last time he and Charlie had played catch together—but what surfaced instead was the memory of seeing Daniel alive and well after he'd thought he'd died aboard Apophis' ship. And the way he'd hugged the stuffing out of him out of sheer relief.

"Daniel," said Jack aloud, "if you're ascended again and you're trying to send me a message, could you try to be a little less cryptic?" Jack waited, but there was no answer.

Then he realized he'd waited well past the time the bomb was supposed to go off. Jack cracked an eye open and checked his watch. Yep—he should have been space dust over three minutes ago.

Jack let out a deep sigh and he smiled. Daniel had come through after all. And then his smile died when he realized what that meant.

Water torture. It had to be water torture. Daniel felt himself being dragged back to consciousness by the persistently nagging fall of water droplets on his face. His eyes blinked open, taking in a slightly blurry world that was wet and green and muddy. It took him a few seconds to remember what had happened, and he wasn't at all surprised to discover that he'd lost yet another pair of glasses when he took his tumble down the ravine. But somehow he guessed that losing his glasses was the least of his worries.

Daniel made the mistake of trying to sit up, and a wave of pain swept over him that was so intense it made him want to throw up. The source of the pain immediately became apparent when he looked down at his body. Somehow the impact from the explosion had thrown him into a patch of bamboo with enough force to impale him on two of the long, thin shoots. His left thigh was speared through, as was his right shoulder, just beneath his clavicle, effectively pinning him to the ground like a great big frog waiting for dissection.

He couldn't see the wound on his thigh, but from what he could make out of his shoulder wound, the thin shoots had gone clean through, and the bleeding wasn't as bad as it could have been. He gently tested the rest of his body. His right arm was a constant source of pain, and he could tell by the way it lay at such an awkward angle that it was broken in at least two places. His hands and face stung from the numerous cuts obtained from his top-speed foray through the jungle, but they were shallow and nothing to worry about. He was bruised pretty much everywhere, from the feel of it, and the red-hot poker of pain that sliced into his chest every time he took a breath told him that he'd cracked or broken a couple of ribs. Add to that the throbbing in his head that beat in time with his pulse as if his brain was trying to beat its way out of the constricting prison of his skull, and that pretty much made his entire body that was one big injury. His pinkie toe on his right foot felt okay, he guessed, but that was a fairy small concession.

Glancing around, Daniel saw that the explosion had started an avalanche along the cliff face, leaving behind a fresh scar of rich brown earth and a mound of boulders and debris at the base. He was lucky he had been thrown clear of the falling boulders, some of which were as big as cars and would have pulverised him. His little patch of bamboo...or whatever it was...had been mostly flattened by the resulting mud slide, leaving only a few shoots standing. Again, he was lucky—if they hadn't been flattened, he'd be a human pincushion now. Or, if he'd been thrown a half a dozen feet to the left, he'd have been impaled on the much larger branches of the trees that stood nearby.

Yeah...he was lucky alright, he thought bitterly. By some miracle he'd survived against all odds with injuries that were painful but not life threatening. And that meant he could look forward to a slow death by starvation.

Daniel suddenly found himself wishing he hadn't written that letter to Jack, telling him to forget about him and move on.

Part 6

Dear Jack,

I know you probably think this is a suicide note, but it's not. Okay, maybe it is, a little, because I know I won't be coming back; but I don't want you—any of you—to think I did this because I wanted to kill myself. I don't. And this has absolutely nothing to do with you or with the nightmares, so you can get that thought out of your head right now, Jack.

I'm doing this because I believe it's the only way, and I also know that General Hammond would never order anyone to do it. If my plan works, both the power source and the Stargate will be destroyed, and I will have no way to get back home.

I know you, Jack, and I know you're already planning a rescue mission, but I want you to promise me you won't. Even if I somehow manage to survive the explosion, it would take months for anyone to reach me, and the chances of me still being alive are remote at best. I don't want you to waste valuable manpower and resources in a pointless mission to bring me home. You have more important things to worry about right now. You need to focus on a way to stop Anubis from trying this again.

I don't regret my decision. I know it's the only way to save you and countless others. My only regret is that I never got a chance to say a proper good-bye. I hope you will someday understand and forgive me,

Daniel.

Jack sat in the Briefing Room, staring at the letter in his hands. He'd already read it numerous times to himself and had just finished reading an expurgated version to General Hammond and the rest of SG-1. He'd kept the sentence about the nightmares to himself, figuring that was something Daniel meant for his eyes only. He waited in silence as the others absorbed the content of Daniel's last communication.

"He was right," said Hammond softly. "I would never have ordered anyone to do what he did."

"I still can't believe he did that," said Carter, string blankly ahead. "I can't believe he sacrificed himself again."

"He's not dead," said Jack with conviction. "If there's one thing I've learned about Daniel over the years it's that he's got more lives than a cat. Trust me—he's alive out there, and I'm going to bring him home."

Teal'c lifted a brow at Jack's lack of logic. "How is it that you can be so certain Daniel Jackson is alive?" he asked.

Jack frowned at the Jaffa in return. "Daniel's a smart guy. He said he had a plan, and I guarantee you that plan involved not getting killed," he said, his eyes blazing with determination. "Daniel's alive. I can feel it."

Sam nodded her head in agreement. It wasn't rational, but she felt the same way. She thought this must be what it was like to lose a limb; even when you know it's gone it feels like it's still there.

"Colonel, you do realise the very high probability that Dr. Jackson is dead?" asked Hammond .

"I'm well aware of the odds, sir," Jack answered. "But Daniel has been in worse situations and he always seems to pull through somehow. Dead or alive, I won't leave him out there."

General Hammond nodded, expecting no less from his second in command. "Very well, Colonel, I'm giving you a go to bring him back, but you'll have to go alone. I'll need Major Carter here to help devise a method of detecting the phase-shift bombs in case Anubis attacks again, and Bra'tac has requested Teal'c's help with the Jaffa resistance—a request I've already granted. If you do this, it'll have to be a solo mission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Thank-you, sir," said Jack with an even mix of relief and disappointment. It would have made him much happier if he could have his team with him, but he understood that Hammond couldn't very well send all of them off on a hopeless mission for God only knew how long, when there was an imminent threat against Earth and its allies.

They all pushed away from the table and went their separate ways, but Jack caught up with Carter a few minutes later as she was making her way to her lab.

Carter shook her head, her clear blue eyes solemn as she answered him. "I'm sorry, sir. Since we got the computer back on line a few hours ago we've attempted to dial the planet twelve times, each time with the same result. The last chevron won't lock—the 'gate on the other side was either destroyed in the explosion or buried in debris."

"So I'll need to get there by ship, and the Tok'ra ships are too slow to be of any use. I guess that means...Asgard."

"Asgard," Carter agreed. "If you can track them down, that is. Lately they've been pretty scarce."

"Oh, I think Thor still owes us a favour or two...or three. I say it's about time I gave the little grey fella a shout."

"Good luck, sir," said Carter. Her wide blue eyes spoke louder than her words—'I wish I could go with you'.

Jack gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and went off to call in a marker or two...or three.

Night time on P9T 337 fell fast, and the overcast sky allowed no starlight to get through. It was a pressing darkness, as black as any cave, and Daniel lay pinned to the ground staring up at the blackness above and wishing for a break in the cloud cover—just a tiny glimpse of the stars to remind him that he wasn't totally alone in the universe.

The rain continued to patter down on him through the overhanging branches of the nearby trees, and he was starting to forget what it was like to be dry. But at least he wasn't cold—long after the sun had set the cloying heat persisted, and Daniel had a feeling it wasn't going to cool down any time soon.

He'd spent hours trying to free himself from his bamboo restraints, but the shoots were too tall and jagged to pull himself free and too thick and strong to break. Of course it didn't help that his right arm was useless and a few ribs were broken, making the smallest movement excruciatingly painful. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring a knife.

But there was no sense beating himself up about it now. No need to, really, since the planet was intent on doing that for him. There was nothing he could do now except try to stay alive and hope that his friends were stubborn enough to come after him.

As Daniel lay there fighting bleak thoughts, he heard a thumping sound a few feet away in the pitch black. He craned his neck in the direction of the sound and strained his eyes against the oppressive darkness, but he couldn't see a thing. He listened intently for any other sounds, but all he could hear, apart from the pounding of his own heart, was the wind howling through the trees. If it was an animal, then it was an extremely quiet and patient one.

A strong gust of wind rustled the trees overhead, and there were two more thumps—one coming from directly at his feet. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, but it wouldn't do him much good—in his current condition there was no way he could possibly fight or flee. Whatever they were, he was completely at their mercy.

Another thump, farther away this time, and Daniel was starting to think that he was safe...whatever this was, it wasn't an attack. And then something hit him hard in the chest.

Daniel gasped at the blinding pain in his ribs, and his left hand flew to his chest in an attempt to ward off any further attack. His hand encountered a round, sort of fuzzy-feeling thing rolling down his chest towards his groin, and in a moment of panic he forgot about the bamboo shoots and tried to kick himself away from it. Searing pain shot through his upper thigh as the move caused the bamboo to rip his leg wound open even further.

The baseball sized object rolled to a stop in the hollow of his pelvis and rocked slightly with the rise and fall of his breathing. It wasn't moving under its own power, he realized. It wasn't alive.

With reason slowly returning, Daniel slowly reached his hand down to touch it and received no adverse reaction from it. Emboldened now, he carefully picked it up, examining its weight, texture and shape with adept fingers. Its surface was fuzzy and there was a distinct cleft and dimple in the sphere. Applying some pressure, he found he was easily able to dent it.

It was a fruit! The wind in the tree branches overhead had knocked loose some fruit and it was landing in his little patch of bamboo. Daniel had to laugh at himself for getting so riled up over nothing.

It was the first bit of good fortune he'd had since the explosion. He'd brought a few power bars with him, but they wouldn't last him for long; so if the fruit was edible and if he was able to reach enough of it, he might have a viable food source, abundant enough to keep him alive until help arrived.

As a few more fruit thumped to the ground around him, Daniel finally allowed his exhaustion to claim him and he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

It was touch and go for a while, but Jack was finally able to secure Thor's help in hunting down Daniel. Thor was more than willing to lend a hand, but he'd let Jack know that he was in the middle of some tricky negotiations that required the Supreme Commander's attention. It would be another eighteen hours at the earliest before Thor could get away from his duties and swing by Earth to pick him up. From there, Thor estimated it would take just over eight days to reach P9T 337, pushing the engines all the way.

If Daniel was still alive and well, he might be able to hold on that long, but if he was hurt, or if the environment on the planet was hostile, then nine days might as well be nine hundred. Jack wanted to tell Thor to screw the negotiations and get his skinny grey ass over here this minute, but he knew Thor was doing his best.

In the grey light of dawn, Daniel Jackson awoke from a nightmare—the one in which a Goa'uld-infested Jack had sent them both hurtling off the cavern's ledge to the dark abyss below. Only this time, when he woke up, it was to the stark realization that his nightmare had come true in every way.

And as punishment he'd been consigned to a watery grave. Granted, not the churning ocean depths of his dream, but close...and far worse. He'd have much preferred the quick end promised to him in the nightmare, rather than this slow, torturous death, drenched in a ceaseless drizzle and unutterably alone on a distant planet.

What little sleep he'd gotten had been interspersed with waking moments racked with pain. What made it infinitely worse was that it was impossible for him to shift into a more comfortable position. The parts of him that weren't already bruised, broken or bleeding now ached with the need to move and stretch. He needed to take his mind off his discomfort. He needed to do something.

"So...what's on the agenda for today?" he voiced aloud to himself, and was surprised when he heard a reply in the form of a loud squawk coming from a huge, inky-black bird circling overhead. Its golden eyes kept him in sight as its spiralling descent brought it closer and closer until it finally broke through the tree cover.

Daniel's only coherent thought as the bird swooped down towards him was that those powerful-looking talons would soon put him out of his misery. He braced himself; eyes clenched shut, waiting to feel the sharp claws tear into his defenceless body, but all he felt was the fanning wind from the creature's great wings as it landed a short distance from his head. Daniel risked cracking an eye open and saw the bird hopping closer, its cold, reptilian gaze regarding him cautiously.

A few hops later, the bird must have decided Daniel wasn't much of a threat and it squawked out a long string of birdsong before latching its claws onto one of the fallen fruit on the ground. Daniel smiled, thankful to find he wasn't on the menu.

Overhead, several more of the large black birds appeared, drawn by the first bird's calls. And with swift precision, the small flock descended and made quick work of clearing his little bamboo patch of the fruit. With their bounty firmly grasped in their collective talons, the birds took flight as one, disappearing into the treetops where they could eat undisturbed.

The only piece of fruit they hadn't taken was the one tucked into the crook of Daniel's elbow—the one of 'chicken little' fame. He reached for it and brought it closer to his face so he could get a better look at it. It was a dark red, and fuzzy like a peach. It seemed to have softened somewhat overnight, and it dented easily under the pressure of his fingertips. He sniffed at it curiously; it smelled sweet, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.

If the birds were eating it, then chances were pretty good they weren't poisonous, but there was no way of knowing for sure if it was safe for human consumption. Daniel thought about it for a moment. He only had three power bars, and an indefinite amount of time until he was rescued, if he was rescued at all. He would have to resort to eating the fruit eventually, he reasoned. He had no idea how much more fruit might land near enough for him to gather, and judging by the rapid ripening of the one he'd held onto, he had a feeling this was a limited time offer.

His mind made up, Daniel bit into the fruit. It was tart and sweet all at once, like a plum, and it was really juicy. Not bad at all, he thought, as he swallowed the first bite. When he didn't start convulsing and foaming at the mouth, he took it as a sign that it was okay to have another bite. He ate slowly, savouring every mouthful, and spat the pit out, watching the black stone arc in the air and land near the foot of the closest tree. Good shot, he thought, and grinned at his spectacular pit-spitting abilities.

It was probably his imagination, but he thought he was starting to feel a little better. Several more minutes passed and Daniel knew it wasn't just his imagination—he did feel better...a whole lot better, actually. The pain that had been a continuous presence since his tumble down the ravine had lessened considerably. It was still there, but what had once been an ear-splitting din was now little more than a nagging hum.

Daniel's eyelids slid shut, as he basked in the cessation of his discomfort and wondered how long it would last. He decided to take advantage of the situation and get some much needed sleep.

Back at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Jack O'Neill was alone in the darkened Briefing Room staring down into the empty Gate Room. It was the middle of the night, and everything looked so peaceful—there were no incoming wormholes, no teams heading off-world, no Goa'uld invasions...hell, there wasn't even any routine maintenance going on.

And it was really starting to piss him off. As far as he was concerned, this place should be bustling with people working overtime to get Daniel back. Whatever happened to 'rallying the troops'? For that matter, whatever happened to 'leave no man behind'?

Jack flipped open his watch and was dismayed to find that only five minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked. So much time on his hands...so little to do. Jack leaned his forehead against the cool, bullet-proof glass of the observation window and closed his eyes. With no other distractions, the memories he'd been fighting to suppress bobbed unbidden to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

He was back in the caverns on PX9 292. Jack had spent the entire day watching Daniel lose himself in what he claimed was one of the most important archaeological finds ever. It looked like nothing more than a bunch of cave paintings and broken bones to Jack, but Daniel was convinced he might have found hard physical evidence of the Missing Link.

All it meant to Jack was that it would be a long time before they would be able to drag their ecstatic archaeologist away from his discovery. Carter and Teal'c had abandoned him early on to do some spelunking, under the flimsy guise of collecting mineral samples for study. And that left Jack with nothing to do all day except watch Daniel play with his new toys.

Daniel's hyper, rambling account of the pre-historic people who once inhabited the caverns quickly became a droning background noise to Jack—something he nodded at occasionally whenever Daniel's crystal-blue eyes turned to him expectantly. His mind wandered as his eyes tracked his friend's progress from one new find to another, watching his long, inquisitive fingers fan across cave drawings as if their texture alone could unlock the secrets of the past. He watched as Daniel got so caught up in his work that he forgot he had an audience; his lips still moving despite the fact that he'd stopped talking aloud a long time ago.

Jack smiled—he loved it when Daniel did that, and it had been far too long since he'd seen this side of his friend. Years spent fighting the Goa'uld and doing whatever was necessary to survive had changed him. Daniel was a seasoned soldier now, as strong and as confident in battle as anyone Jack had ever worked with, but it had come at a price. Daniel had adapted. His passion for peaceful resolution had mellowed in him to become just another tool in his arsenal. And what's more, the man just seemed...tired. He'd seen too much and suffered more than any man should ever have to.

So it was with a certain amount of gladness that Jack watched the younger man return to his natural element, as absorbed and excited about this discovery as he had been about uncovering the purpose of the Stargate eight years earlier.

The day passed far more quickly than he'd expected, and soon Teal'c and Carter were back and setting up camp for the night. Jack was about to call out to Daniel to let him know it was dinner time, thinking he'd have to pry his fingers off the cave wall to get him to come, when he noticed the other man was no longer working.

Daniel was standing near the lip of the cavern, staring out at the ocean. As Jack approached, he found himself captivated by the way the warm light of the sunset made Daniel's youthful features glow. He looked...radiant. He looked happy. Jack felt an entirely different kind of glow come over him as he realized that he, too, was happy. Happier than he had been in years.

Without missing a beat, Jack answered truthfully; "Can't say I have." The words, and the feelings behind them shocked Jack out of his reverie and he snapped his eyes forward in embarrassment, but not soon enough to avoid the curious glance of his friend.

He'd thought he'd recovered from the slip nicely, leaving Daniel none the wiser. But clearly he'd been wrong. Daniel had caught his slip up and it had burrowed its way into Daniel's subconscious, manifesting itself in the other man's nightmares. And no wonder! If it confused the hell out of Jack, he couldn't imagine how Daniel must have felt. Talk about your mixed signals! Jack had no idea what had made him so blatantly flirt with the other man, but he'd been naïve to think that Daniel hadn't noticed.

Jack had tried to pretend it had never happened; had completely convinced himself that it had just been some weird trick of the light, that he'd been caught up in the moment...that it had meant nothing. And yet afterwards, he'd done everything in his power to avoid Daniel whenever possible and to keep him at a distance whenever they had to be in the same room. Whatever was necessary to block the whole incident from his mind.

When it came right down to it, this whole mess was Jack's fault, and he'd be damned if he was going to let Daniel pay for his stupid mistake.

Jack sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to banish the guilty thoughts from his mind. He checked his watch again. Only three minutes had passed.

Part 7

"You call this a ship?" said O'Neill, taking in the interior of Thor's vessel, which was cramped enough to make a Goa'uld Tel'tak feel like the QEII in comparison.

Thor regarded him with his trademark stoicism, his large black eyes blinking at him serenely. "While the 'Samantha Carter' may be the smallest ship in the Asgard fleet, it is by far the fastest," replied Thor. "You said time was of the essence, did you not?"

"I did," O'Neill agreed, "but...doesn't this thing come in a full-size sedan model?"

Ignoring the colonel's jibe, Thor answered evenly: "You will find this vessel is well equipped to take care of your needs on this journey."

Jack looked around the tiny ship doubtfully. There was no division between the cockpit and the body of the ship, and the whole thing was just a boxy-looking dome-shaped room. He'd been in comfier-looking cargo vans. What was he supposed to sit on? Sleep on? This was going to be his home for the next sixteen days, he wondered? His dismay at that thought must have been evident, because Thor answered his questions as if he'd asked them out loud.

"There are panels along the walls, O'Neill," said Thor in a deadpan voice that Jack was convinced held a touch of sarcasm.

Jack cocked his head curiously and set about prodding the walls to reveal a veritable cornucopia of amenities. One panel slid back and a decent sized cot slid down from its hiding place. Two more panels opened up to become single-seat chairs. There was a lazy-susan deal in one section that swivelled to reveal one of the tiniest and most efficiently designed lavatories Jack had ever seen. The rest of the panels turned out to be a refrigeration unit, a medical supply cupboard, a cooking platform and a bunch of storage space. Jack nodded to himself, impressed. The little 'Samantha' did seem to have everything...with one exception.

"Thor, buddy," said Jack. "Is this your way of telling me you wanna be more than just friends?"

Thor tilted his oversized head at him, blinking his viscous-black eyes questioningly.

"One bed?" Jack explained. "I love you, Thor, you know that; but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

"I am perfectly comfortable sleeping in my pilot seat," answered Thor, again, deadpan...or was that a smirk playing across those teeny little lips?... Nope. Deadpan. Jack sighed. It looked like he'd be hard-pressed for entertainment over the next eight days.

It also looked like Thor was under the impression they would be returning to Earth without Daniel. Either that or he had some interesting ideas about Jack's relationship with the archaeologist. Jack winced at that thought—the way they'd left things, he wasn't so sure Daniel would even be able to look him in the eye, let alone share a bed with him.

Jack sighed again and plopped down on the cot. Not bad, he thought. It was far more comfortable than it appeared to be. Settling down with his hands pillowing his head, Jack stared up at the rounded ceiling, already starting to feel the boredom weighing on him.

"This thing got cable?" he asked, and he could swear he head Thor sigh impatiently from his control centre.

By the time Daniel woke up again it was evening. The pain had returned, worse than before. Or perhaps it only felt worse because he'd had a temporary reprieve from it.

It was a starless night again, and he was still sopping wet, even though the rain seemed to have let up for the time being. Daniel felt a momentary wave of misery wash over him, and for the first time since he'd stepped through the 'gate onto this planet he felt truly disconsolate.

He felt a molten trail of tears score a path down his face before he even realized he was crying. As if he wasn't wet enough without adding his own waterworks into the mix! Mentally chastising himself for his lapse in optimism, Daniel forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down. Losing hope would do him no good. He had to keep fighting. He had to survive this somehow.

It was too dark to work on freeing himself from the bamboo shoots, and even if it wasn't, his efforts so far had gotten him absolutely nowhere. There really wasn't much he could do except wait and hope more fruit came his way.

He decided to do a mental inventory of everything he had on him and everything he had within reach, hoping he might come up with something he could use to free himself. He had the clothes on his back, which he desperately wished he could change out of. He had the wire cutters, which were too small to use on the bamboo, but might still come in handy. He had his micro-cassette recorder, which, by some miracle, had survived his spill down the ravine. He had seventy-five cents change in his pockets and a minty toothpick, still in its wrapper. Not much of a survival kit...but then, he hadn't really counted on surviving.

Daniel pulled out the cassette recorder. It may not be much help as far as survival went, but at least he could use it to send a final message to his friends if worse came to worst. He pressed the record button, but nothing came out of his mouth, so he hit stop and tapped the little machine against his lips, trying to think of something to say. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem—usually it was keeping his mouth shut that was difficult—but the pain was making it hard to concentrate, and he wanted his goodbye speech to be perfect. Trusting that he would eventually come up with something pithy to say, he set the recorder on voice activation and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket to keep it dry.

There was no wind that night, and that meant no free food falling from the sky. By morning, Daniel's stomach lining felt like it was eating itself, and the rain had started up again, dampening his spirits as much as his clothes. He had almost completely dried off, and had been enjoying the sensation, so when the rain pelted down on his face again, he let out a loud, frustrated growl. Then he remembered that his recorder was on voice activation and he dug his fingers into his pocket and rewound the tape. Only, he went too far, and when he hit playback, he was startled to hear Jack's voice coming from the machine's speaker.

"And lose out on the best blackmailing opportunity I'll ever get? Not a chance!"

Daniel hit the stop button. Hearing Jack like that, so relaxed...so playful, was like a slap in the face. It was a reminder that, even if he did make it home, things would never be as comfortable between them now as they were then. He squared his jaw, pushing away those depressing thoughts and resetting the recorder to voice activation. There was no sense dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. All that counted now was surviving to see another day.

The wind finally picked up late in the day and the sky grew dark with bruise-coloured rain clouds. It looked like he was in for one hell of a storm, and within minutes the rain was lashing at him relentlessly, the wind howling through the trees above. It didn't take long for the fruit-laden branches to unburden themselves of their load, and the ripe fruit rained down into his little clearing. Daniel greedily gathered as much fruit as he could reach and tucked them in close to his body. There was no way he was sharing his stash with those birds, he thought.

The first bite of fruit was so sweet and delicious he actually moaned out loud. And to think, he'd almost given in and opened up one of his energy bars! Some of the dark, red juice dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, but Daniel didn't care; he was too focused on filling his empty stomach to care about tidiness. The ever-present pain was already starting to retreat after eating two of the fruits, and as he finished a third, he was left feeling pleasantly numb. Daniel figured the fruit must be a naturally occurring analgesic, and he thought maybe he should try to save one for Janet to study.

The sudden realization that Janet would probably never see him again, let alone get her hands on the fruit, sent a dull pang of regret through Daniel. Then he remembered the recorder in his pocket and decided that he could at least tell the others about the fruit—and everything else that had happened while he was on the planet—in the hopes that the information may prove helpful in the future. He smiled a little, happy to finally have something useful to do.

"Uh...Okay, where do I begin? I guess I should start with what happened after I stepped through the Stargate..."

...Daniel awoke with a start, wondering when, exactly, he'd fallen asleep. It was dark now, so he had to have been unconscious for several hours at least. He blinked a few times—God it got so dark at night...and so quiet. He still felt numb from the fruit, and the overall sensation made him feel like he was floating in a sensory deprivation tank, something he'd tried once in his college days. There was absolutely nothing to distract him from the random and confusing images dredged up from the darkest recesses of his mind.

A tiny part of him was lucid enough to realize that the fruit, aside from being an analgesic, must also be a hallucinogenic. It was the only thing that would explain the kaleidoscopic thoughts and images that were spinning through his mind. Ridiculous things like painting Teal'c a blue-green colour to better suit his name, or chasing General Hammond down the corridors of the SGC while singing 'happy birthday' at the top of his lungs, were interspersed with real memories of Shau'ri and his parents. It was getting harder and harder to sort out what was real and what wasn't. A memory of Jack thrusting into him against a sunset-lit cavern wall brought reality crashing down around him—no way was that memory real!

God how he hated the way he'd left things with Jack. If only he'd had more time to set things straight between them. And what made it worse was that he couldn't even say anything to him on the recorder for fear of saying the wrong thing. He couldn't bear the thought of making things worse than they already were.

Daniel's head throbbed, and the pain in the rest of his body was rapidly returning. Without a second thought, he plucked one of the fruits off the ground and devoured it in four bites, and then he grabbed another one and slowly savoured it. Soon the jumbled mess of thoughts and images in his head began to make some sort of sense to him and as his pain ebbed away, he let himself drift off on a black tide of silence.

Jack was occupying himself with trying to uncover the inner workings of the 'Samantha Carter's panel system...alright, he was opening and closing the bed panel, watching the cot slide up into the wall, stopping it part way, then sliding it back out again. It had kept him occupied for well over an hour.

Thor glanced at Colonel O'Neill from his control panel, his eyes drawn down into thin black slits. It was as close to a scowl as Jack had ever seen on an Asgard face and he dutifully relented from his futzing activities.

"You know, time would go a lot faster if you had cable," said Jack, sauntering over to stand next to Thor. The view out the front portal was exactly the same as it had been for the past six days. Streaky stars zooming past them at a nauseating speed. "Not that I'm complaining—I love fiddling with 'Samantha's panels," he added with a slippery grin.

Jack watched as Thor drummed his long, alien fingers on the arm of his chair. The little grey guy seemed to be mentally counting to ten. Jack smiled. It had taken longer than he'd expected, but he'd finally managed to drive his diminutive friend up the wall.

"Perhaps you might like to choose a ceiling-scape to look at," said Thor with newly-reclaimed patience.

Jack shrugged and did as he was instructed. When he pushed the dial into the wall the entire ceiling of the dome lit up with a projection of a blue sky, spotted with fluffy white clouds.

"Cool," said Jack and turned the dial. Another projection, this time a starlit night, took its place. He skimmed through the selection and settled on an underwater scene that made him feel like he was snorkelling. "Sweet," he said and lay down on the cot to watch the fish swim by. "Can you play games on this thing?"

It was dark. It was always dark now—dark and silent and so peaceful. He was awake now...at least he thought he was awake. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference; day, night, awake, asleep, reality, hallucination...none of it made sense anymore. The only thing he was certain of was that when the pain managed to break through the fruit-induced numbness it was unbearable—far worse than it should have been, because it was the only thing he could feel. And it was starting to come back now.

He had no idea if he was screaming or not—if he was, he couldn't hear it—but the pain was so excruciating he'd be surprised if he wasn't screaming loud enough to scare off the wildlife for miles around. His shoulder and thigh were ablaze with fiery pain and the rest of his body echoed that pain with every beat of his heart. It felt like he was being brutally tortured, but the corner of his mind that was still clinging to reality told him that wasn't the case. He could no longer remember what had happened to bring him to this—hell, most of the time he couldn't remember his own name—but something told him that he'd brought this suffering on himself.

Fruit. He needed the fruit or the pain would make him lose his mind completely. Because as much as the hallucinations, blindness, deafness and numbness frightened him, it was better than the alternative. He felt around on the ground nearby, his dulled sense of touch making it difficult to identify what was fruit and what wasn't. Once he grabbed hold of something that seemed to be about the right shape and size, he brought it up to his mouth, sniffing it first, and then licking it. Only his senses of smell and taste seemed to be immune to the fruits' effects, and he could tell by the sweet tang on his tongue that the object in his hand was, indeed, a fruit.

He bit into it frenziedly, sucking down the numbing juices, immediately feeling the pain begin to recede. A few minutes were all it took until he was lost again to the void.

Jack paced incessantly behind Thor's control console, not giving a damn how irritating he was being. He stopped suddenly and approached Thor, who swivelled around to face him and held up a long, thin finger before Jack could speak.

"No, we are not there yet, O'Neill," said Thor, and then he quickly added: "And, yes, we are going as fast as we can."

Jack's shoulders slumped and he just stood there looking pathetic until Thor took pity on him.

"I estimate we will arrive at the planet's coordinates in less than five hours. I suggest you use the time to catch up on your sleep."

Jack wanted to argue with him, but he had a point. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since he started this mission, and he would need to be well rested once he got to the planet. "Alright," he agreed reluctantly, "but you'll wake me the second we get there, right?"

Thor took a moment to answer, as if he was considering letting his companion sleep as long as possible just so he could get some peace and quiet. "Of course, O'Neill," he said at last.

It seemed to Jack like his head had barely hit his pillow when Thor shook him awake again. "We there yet?" asked Jack groggily.

"Yes, O'Neill, we are there," said Thor, but there was something indefinable in the small alien's inflection that set off Jack's alarms.

"...But," Thor continued patiently," the sensors are not picking up any human life signs."

Molotov Nightmares