Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons

by Sally Malcolm

  “For what?” said Cam.

  Daniel shrugged. “For whatever’s in here.”

  Mitchell raised his weapon, and so did Teal’c. Behind them, Vala backed closer to them, although her eyes were still turned in the direction of the firefight. “Let’s just get inside,” she said. “Before we have company.”

  Daniel pulled his Beretta from its holster, holding it low as he pressed his hand on the door activation panel. It shot open and Mitchell was through it immediately, Teal’c at his shoulder. Daniel and Vala followed, fanning out behind them, weapons raised. The door hissed shut.

  “Don’t move,” Mitchell barked, although it didn’t look like anyone was moving in the unexpected tableau before them. A woman — Lucian Alliance, by the look of her clothes — stood with her back to them, the Oranian pistol she held aimed at the head of a young, oddly familiar, US airman who had his P90 pointed right back at her.

  “Welcome to the party,” said the airman, without shifting his focus from the woman. “I hope you brought snacks.”

  It was the voice that gave him away, knocking the ground out from beneath Daniel’s feet. “Jack?”

  A flicker of a glance in his direction, then a flash of the same astonishment he felt. “Daniel?”

  Jack’s weapon wavered for a fraction of a second and the woman pounced, reaching across the pedestal to grab his vest. “Back off!” she yelled, hauling him toward her over the device as she pressed her gun to his head. “Back off, or he dies.”

  Jack dropped his P90, letting it hang from his tac vest, and flung his arms out wide, as far from the device as possible.

  No one else moved.

  “I mean it,” the woman said, glaring at Daniel. “I’ll kill him.”

  “She won’t,” Jack said. “She needs me to activate the device. I have some kind of gene…”

  “Yeah,” Daniel said. “We know.”

  “You want your friend to live?” the woman said. “Then leave. Now.”

  Cam threw Daniel a glance, deferring to his decision. Carefully, Daniel lowered his weapon. Mitchell and Teal’c did the same, but Vala was standing directly behind the woman, unobserved. “Careful,” Daniel said, his words aimed at Vala although his eyes were fixed on the woman holding the gun to Jack’s head. “Easy does it.”

  “Now back off,” she said, shifting a little closer to Jack. Vala moved with her, silent as a thief.

  “Just shoot her,” said Jack.

  “You’re a fool,” the woman hissed. “You’re turning your back on a fortune.”

  “Really? I thought we were here to avenge the deaths of your people.”

  She grinned, showing wide teeth. “What better way to avenge them than by stealing the most valuable weapon in the galaxy from under the noses of the Oranians?”

  “Huh,” Jack said. “Oranians have noses?”

  Daniel almost grinned, touched by bittersweet nostalgia despite the precarious situation — or, perhaps, because of it. He glanced past the woman’s shoulder, caught Vala’s eye. It was time. The woman must have seen the look because she half turned, but not before Vala’s well-placed shot sent her twitching to the floor in a haze of blue energy.

  Released, Jack backed away, watching them all with a mixture of doubt and suspicion. Daniel didn’t miss the tense hold he had on his weapon.

  “Daniel,” Vala said, lowering her zat. “What’s going on? Who is this guy?”

  “I’m Jack O’Neill,” Jack said. “Who the hell are you?”

  He’d recognized the cold sweep of Asgard transporter technology the moment the beam touched him, dissolving his mind and reforming it someplace else.

  Not an Asgard ship, though. Human. Prometheus?

  He was in what they’d called ‘guest quarters’ but, despite the soft furnishings and the decent meal they’d provided, the airman stationed outside his door gave the lie to the term ‘guest’.

  He’d been there several hours. Time enough for the others to mop up the mess on the planet and to put the Ancient weapon permanently beyond use. They were in motion now, travelling faster than light back to Earth, and probably trying to figure out what the hell to do with an extra Jack O’Neill.

  Lying on the bed, hands behind his head, he stared out at the blurred star field and wondered whether he should have made a break for it back on the planet. Once he’d reached the Stargate he could have gone anywhere, could have been free. But free to do what? His life had always been about service, and, without that, what meaning would there be in wandering the galaxy? But the thought of returning to his life on Earth, of knowing that incredible things were happening beyond his reach, was profoundly depressing. It was almost enough to make him wish he’d taken Balen Tark up on her offer.

  When the door to his quarters eventually opened, he wasn’t surprised to see Daniel and Teal’c standing outside. They looked different from how he remembered them — older, changed by experiences he hadn’t shared — but they were still the same men. To him, they looked like old friends. Whether they were or not remained to be seen.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, but didn’t stand as they entered. Teal’c nodded to the airman and the door slid shut, leaving them alone together.

  “So,” Daniel said after a short silence, “this is a mess.”

  “I’m guessing,” Jack said, “there is no Major Hartkans?”

  “Nope.” Daniel moved further into the room and took a seat in one of the chairs next to the small desk in the corner. Teal’c remained standing near the door, hands behind his back. He looked odd with hair, the lines on his face more profound, but he still looked like Teal’c.

  “Hartkans,” Daniel said, “is ex-NID, a former member of a shadow organization called The Trust. Now it looks like he’s working with the Lucian Alliance. Balen Tark is one of the new leaders that emerged after their failed attack on Earth.”

  “And what’s the Lucian Alliance?”

  “A loose coalition of smugglers, arms dealers and thieves,” Teal’c said. “They have grown to prominence in the power vacuum created by the destruction of the Goa’uld.”

  Jack glanced at Daniel for confirmation. “So that’s true, then?” he said. “Turner fed me a lot of crap. I didn’t know how much to believe.”

  “It’s true,” Daniel said, “the System Lords are gone.” He let a beat fall. “Including Ba’al, by the way. He was executed by the Tok’ra. I saw him die.”

  “Good,” was all he said, because ten years on he still had nightmares and he didn’t see them ending just because Ba’al was gone. He pushed a hand through his hair, as if he could scrub away the memories.

  “And the Jaffa are free,” Teal’c added, with restrained but deep pride.

  Jack smiled, though he felt a weight of sadness. “I wish I could have been there to see that.”

  “You know why you couldn’t,” Daniel said. “You know why you shouldn’t be here now.”

  “Paperwork?”

  “Something like that.”

  A long beat fell. “So now what?”

  “Now you go home.” A frown creased Daniel’s forehead, the furrows cutting a little deeper than of old. “Colonel Caldwell wanted to beam you to the SGC for a full debrief, but Cam and I convinced him it wasn’t necessary.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the old place again.”

  “The brig?”

  “Even that.”

  “Jack…”

  “You have no idea!” he snapped. “To know all this is out here and to have no one — no one — to talk to about it? No way to help. To be cut off from everything and everyone that matters?” He dropped his head into his hands, trying to keep a lid on it all. “You have no idea, Daniel.”

  There was a long silence,
Daniel for once apparently lost for words.

  It was Teal’c who spoke in the end. “There are many things that matter, O’Neill,” he said. “Not all of them are to be found beyond the Stargate.”

  “There’s nothing that matters more than this,” Jack said, looking up. “And you know it.”

  Teal’c lifted an eyebrow. “You were willing to die for the Tau’ri,” he said. “Is Earth so perfect that there is no cause there worthy of the same sacrifice?”

  “It’s different,” Jack said. “Out here —”

  “There is great evil in your world, O’Neill. I have seen it. There is war, there is suffering, and there are men as cruel and corrupt as any System Lord. Why do you not oppose them?”

  “Hey,” he objected, “I can’t even join the military — I’m barred, remember? And what else can I do? I’m just one man.”

  “As was I, when first I opposed the Goa’uld.” He fixed Jack with a look. “There is always a way to fight for the people of your world, O’Neill.”

  Daniel gave him a sideways look. “Um, Teal’c? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not, Daniel Jackson? O’Neill is a man of great skill and ingenuity. This cloned body he now possesses gives him youthful vitality to complement his experience and wisdom.” His attention returned to Jack. “You could make a difference to your planet.”

  “He could get himself killed.”

  Jack felt his heartbeat kick up a notch. Maybe Teal’c was right. Maybe he’d been so fixated on what he couldn’t do out here that he hadn’t considered what he could do closer to home. Iraq, Syria, Somalia, a dozen other hotspots around the world — could he somehow make a difference? Could he help make Earth a planet worth dying to protect? “Well, it’s a thought,” he said and watched the smile twitch the corner of Teal’c’s mouth.

  A stomach-lurching shift in the ship’s motion made Daniel glance up at the ceiling. “We’ve dropped out of hyperspace.”

  “Home already?”

  Daniel just nodded to the window behind Jack’s head. He turned, standing slowly, breath catching as it always did at the sight of the beautiful blue planet.

  “Home,” said Daniel.

  Jack moved to the window, pressed a hand against the glass. This would probably be the last time he ever saw this sight, ever left the confines of the world below. It was the end. “I miss you all,” he said, without looking around. “I miss the SGC. I miss my life.” He took a breath, blew it out slowly. “But you don’t miss me. Jack O’Neill is still in your lives. And I’m not him.”

  Neither of them tried to deny it, but he heard Daniel get to his feet and come to stand by his side at the window. “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. “It must be very difficult.”

  Jack just nodded. “Hartkans told me George Hammond died.”

  “Yeah,” Daniel said with a catch in his voice. “A couple of years ago.”

  “I wish I’d known. I’d have liked to pay my respects.” He hesitated before he spoke again, bracing himself for the answer. “What about Carter? She’s not with SG-1 anymore?”

  “She’s okay,” Daniel assured him. “She’s Colonel Carter now, commanding the George Hammond. That’s a ship,” he added, as if Jack couldn’t guess. “Like this one, only better.”

  Relieved, proud, and a dozen other things he tried not to feel when it came to Carter, he said, “Well, that’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah.” Daniel cleared his throat. “Listen, um, you should probably know that she and Jack are —”

  “Don’t,” he said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to know.”

  Daniel nodded and after a moment said, “And that’s why you can’t stay. You can’t be a ghost in your own life.”

  “I know that.”

  “It’s tough, but — God, look at you. You’re young, you’re strong. Don’t waste time looking back.”

  Jack swallowed a retort and turned away from the window. Daniel, older now than Jack was, regarded him with serious eyes. Teal’c, strange with his white-streaked hair, stood watching him from the door. Good men, good friends — but not his friends. He had to let them go, for real this time.

  He glanced up at the ceiling. They’d beamed him right into these quarters, he figured they could beam him right out again. “So I just click my heels and say ‘There’s no place like home’?”

  Daniel smiled. “When you’re ready.”

  He took a breath. “I’m ready.”

  “Then take care of yourself, Jack. Stay out of trouble.”

  “You too.”

  Daniel tapped something in his ear and said, “Ready to transport in five, four…”

  But before the beam activated, Teal’c crossed the room. With a rebellious look at Daniel he said, “Do not stay out of trouble, O’Neill. Seek trouble out.” He unholstered his zat, handed it to him. “And when you find it, fix it.”

  Jack turned the gun over in his hands, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You betcha,” he said as the Asgard beam swept him away.

  Dawn was breaking over the mountains when Jack materialized in the parking lot of Bosco’s Tavern, still wearing his BDUs and holding Teal’c’s zat in his hands. The air was cool, fresh with promise, and he let it fill his lungs. Eyes closed, he lifted his face to the sun and for a moment he simply existed — young and strong, with life rolling out ahead of him.

  A breeze ruffled his hair and he opened his eyes. It was time to begin.

  Jogging over to his bike, he dug the keys out of his tac vest before shrugging it off and stuffing it and the zat into the top box. He’d just fired up the engine when an old man with a broom came out from behind the tavern, sweeping early fall leaves.

  He nodded when he saw Jack. “We don’t open for breakfast ’til six-thirty.”

  “That’s okay,” Jack said. “I’m not staying.”

  Leaning on the broom, the guy looked at him the way old men look at the young — a mixture of envy and indulgence. “And where’re you headed so early, son?”

  Jack grinned. “Trouble, sir,” he said and gunned the engine, turning the bike toward the road and the sunrise. “I’m headed for trouble.”

  STARGATE ATLANTIS:

  A Blade of Atlantis

  by Jo Graham

  This story takes place during the last episode of STARGATE ATLANTIS season one, “The Siege” Part 2. While waiting for the Wraith hive ships to arrive, and hoping that Daedalus arrives first, Atlantis’ defenders engage in a desperate struggle to prepare the city while dealing with the Wraith commando teams who have beamed into the city bent on sabotage. If they could not have held the city until Daedalus arrived, the history of the Pegasus galaxy would have been very different…

  Dr. Radek Zelenka crouched behind a corner, listening. The sweat was running down his forehead into his eyes even though it was decidedly chilly in the depths of the city. There were Wraith in the city. They had known that when he and two of Colonel Everett’s Marines had set out from the control room to the chair. The chair room itself was secure — it was the kilometers of corridors between that weren’t safe, and Dr. Weir had shut down the city’s internal transport system so the Wraith couldn’t use it.

  And yet it must be done. The chair must be online before the hive ships arrived, and there was no choice but that he go and do it. He had left Rodney to complete modifications to the puddle jumper that was to carry a nuclear warhead, and gone with the Marines.

  A nuclear warhead. Radek shook his head. He had been quite determined never to have anything to do with nukes, and see how that had turned out? No, he could not love them for any reason, had always thought he would not use them even to save his own skin, so great a moral evil were they. But, when his skin was indeed on the line, it looked different, as he supposed it always did — another thing he had l
earned about himself in Atlantis that was not entirely comfortable.

  One of the Marines motioned all clear, and Radek got up carefully. “It’s good, doc,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They hurried along the corridor until it opened into a wider area, perhaps some kind of former gallery or store, with floor to ceiling columns of twisted opaque and mirrored glass. It was very pretty, but also deceptive as their reflections shifted with each step. One of the Marines saw movement and spun around, the barrel of his weapon rising. As he moved the reflection changed, revealing the movement to be their own.

  “Damn,” the Marine said.

  “Yeah, don’t open up in here unless you have to,” the other said, gesturing at the columns. “Breaking all that glass will make a hell of a lot of noise.”

  “It is distracting,” Radek said. “For a moment I thought I saw…”

  The Wraith stepped out from behind the glass column, a flash of blue light emanating from his stunner. It caught the two Marines in its beam, dropping them bonelessly to the floor.

  Radek dodged behind another column. He could no longer see the Wraith or the Marines either, save for one outflung arm where one of the Marines lay unconscious on the floor. There was the sound of the Wraith’s footsteps, and Radek risked retreating to another column. The stunner fired again, blue beam illuminating his reflection on another column. The mirrored confusion worked both ways. With a rush, Radek ran for the corridor door, back the way he and the Marines had come. There was nothing else to do. He was unarmed, and he certainly could not drag two unconscious Marines. The best he could do was escape.

  The Wraith followed. Radek heard his footsteps behind.

  He crouched down, prying the cover off an air vent. He squeezed in, pulling the cover into place behind him. He wiggled backwards on his stomach, trying to get as far in as possible. If he could crawl back far enough that if the Wraith looked in he wouldn’t see him…