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magibrainChapter Summary: Allies appear, and make things worse. The situation at the SGC slips a little farther out of anyone's control.
Index post: [Fic] Beneath a Beating Sun - Index
For the first time in a long history of infirmary incarcerations, Jack made no protest at all.
He wanted to. Not just for his own situation, but for the wounded that rolled in on cots and stretchers with nurses calling over them; for the SFs standing up in the gateroom, aware that soon this could happen here, to them, as well.
He'd gotten his breathing under control, but everything else was failing him. His chest hurt, not just because he held himself so tensely. His head spun, and his vision couldn't decide whether to tunnel or fuzz. Even his saliva tasted thick and bitter. And the nurses could no more do anything about it than he could do anything about Anubis. He wasn't sure which – Anubis or illness – he hated more.
He needed to know what was happening, but couldn't parse the data. Aside from the Beta Site pilots and engineers, no casualties had come in. The base wasn't on high alert; no urgent announcements had been made. But Daniel hadn't returned to say things were all okay, and Jack was confident he would have, had they been.
So something was going on. Something which had caught Daniel's attention but wasn't immediately catastrophic – or was no more so than whatever had befallen the Beta Site. He wondered if maybe Fraiser's staff would let him sneak off, now that they had bigger things to worry about – and made it up thirty degrees before his world spun and dumped him back on the bed. (Dammit! Dammit, dammit...)
So he waited.
And waited, expecting any moment for the SGC to come crumbling down around him. Or up around him, given where the Stargate sat.
His brain was still going tripletime when Jacob Carter walked into the Infirmary, no longer looking like an avenging angel. Now he looked like someone caught down in the trenches, stubbornly not collapsing. And again – maybe always again – Jack froze up, shut down half of his mind and devoted the rest full-weight to extricating himself without success.
"...Jacob!" he said, and though he didn't choke, it sounded like he did. "Where did you come from?"
"Just got here," Jacob said, looking him up and down. "George sent me down. You're not still irradiated, are you?"
"As a matter of fact, I still am," Jack said, at a loss for anything else. "Radioactive and pneumatic. You just–"
"Dialed in on the second try," he said. "I was wondering about the busy signal. Looks like you've had a fun day."
"Some of us more than others," Jack said. "What's going on?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing." Jacob looked over the Infirmary. "Sooner or later you'll need to expand this place. You look like you've been here too long."
"In and out." Jack wrested his mind back on track. "Jacob–"
Jacob graced him with a look of amused sympathy. "Jack, would you like me to use a healing device on you?"
Jack returned the offer with a look of such hopeful desperation that it took all of Jacob's control to keep a straight face. "That would work?"
"It's a healing device. It can't fix everything, but I'd say it should take care of a little case like yours."
Jack was too focused on the possibility of being cured to object to styling it "a little case." "Well, if it's not too much trouble–"
"Jack. Seriously." Jacob folded his arms. "All you had to do was ask."
"Please," Jack said.
Jacob nodded. "All right. Where do you keep your device?" He looked around. "Hell, I could even patch up Dr. Jackson while I'm at it."
"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," Jack said.
"While I'm here, I might as well blitz through your entire infirmary," Jacob muttered, looking down the row of beds. "You don't seem to have a shortage of wounded."
"It's been one of those days," Jack said.
"Yeah. No kidding." He caught the attention of a nurse, quickly dispatching him.
Jack cleared his throat, and ground out the cough that followed. "I'm sorry – what's up? What's the catch? This qualifies as good luck, and we haven't had any since..."
Jacob inclined his head, waiting.
"I'm thinking," Jack said.
"Fair trade," Jacob said. "We need your help. Well, not you specifically."
"Really." Jack arched an eyebrow. "Haven't heard much from Team Tok'ra since you moved out."
"No," Jacob agreed. "It's been... well, 'interesting' is probably the wrong word for it."
"So you decided to come back to the fold now that Anubis is playing rough?" Jack asked.
Jacob snorted, probably hearing Selmak retort within his brain. "Actually, we'd like to borrow Daniel."
Jack didn't react quickly enough to conceal his alarm. "What?"
"A bit of his time, at least," Jacob said distantly. The nurse returned with the healing device and Jacob took it, activating it and holding it up. Jack shifted uncomfortably – heat appeared between his lungs; it felt like his blood was burning. Since when was healing supposed to hurt? Jacob's eyebrows raised. "Wow, Jack, when you screw yourself up..."
"Hhng," Jack acknowledged.
"Good news is, I think I can fix you," he said. "You're not nearly as bad off as Daniel was."
"What do you want with Daniel?" Jack asked. He wasn't about to let any member of SG1 out of his sight today.
"Anubis is on the move," Jacob said. "Which I figure you've gathered. One of the last things he did was to round up every Goa'uld in his thrall, and put them to death. Now that he has overwhelming force, I guess he doesn't have use for lieutenants any more." He cleared his throat. "A few of them figured it out and got away, but not many. Four Tok'ra spies were executed with the rest of the Goa'uld. One escaped, and was lucky enough to bring us back some information. Not much, but it could give us an edge. At least a little one."
"And Daniel?" Jack prodded.
"Anubis has taken to coding all of his files in Ancient," Jacob said. "A few of us know the language or the basics of it, but Anubis' dialect is incredibly obscure. You have the local expert."
Jack grit his teeth as Jacob seared away the fluid in his lungs. "You're – not – planning on taking him home with you, are you?"
Jacob raised his eyebrows, most of his attention focused on healing. "You have a problem with that?" he said, guardedly conversational.
(Yes!) Jack thought. He couldn't say it out loud – Jacob had him in an awkward position. He couldn't very well snap at the man who was returning him to much-missed health, and explaining that he didn't want his team split up for fear of getting more of them killed off would be in poor taste at best. "He's working on something important at the moment," he said, just as guardedly.
"Would this have to do with the glowing whatsit following him around the gateroom?"
"Yeah, that." Jack let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as the heat's focus moved from one lung to the other, still traveling in shocks and waves through the rest of his body. "It followed us home from work one day and's been hanging around ever since."
"You have any idea what it is?"
"Something that lived in the star at PV1-542 that may or may not be a viable defense against – Anubis!" He hissed as his lung burned clear, and took a deep breath to cover. (I can breathe,) he realized.
The heat diffused to a gentler, pervasive warmth. Cells he didn't know were damaged mended. "Really?" Jacob asked, tone downshifting two gears.
"Yeah. Some energy something with identity issues. It can shut off an incoming 'gate, and we figure that if it's energy and Anubis is energy–"
"Maybe it knows something," Jacob finished.
"Yeah."
"Think it does?"
Jack shook his head. "Not my department."
"Aha." Jacob nodded absently. "Well, I have the documents. I can leave them here."
"And you'll leave a forwarding address this time?"
Jacob looked at him sternly. "Jack."
Jack showed both hands in surrender. The next several seconds passed in silence.
"Jacob," Jack started, before he could back down. "About Sam."
Jacob's concentration flickered.
"I dunno. I just wanted to say–"
"Jack?" Jacob's voice was unusually stern. "Stop apologizing."
Jack swallowed.
"This is the job," Jacob continued. "I know you know that. If anyone survives Anubis at this point, we'll all be very lucky."
(And is that supposed to make either of us feel better?) Jack looked down. Losing to Anubis' suddenly overwhelming force was one thing. '542 had been different. An off-chance. An accident. A bad roll on a crapshoot, Russian roulette. For all Teal'c's speeches about dying as a warrior, it had been an execution rather than a battle. She'd died without a chance to fight back.
Maybe Jacob didn't realize that. Jack couldn't remember exactly what had been said between them on the Beta Site, and didn't know how many details he'd been given. He knew Jacob hadn't come back to Earth after the service. Maybe that was why he didn't make the distinction.
But Jack wasn't going to correct him – to do so would be to add insult to injury, and Jacob's injury was certainly still raw.
Of course it still hurt. Jack knew more than most how much it could hurt.
"So," Jacob began, adopting some of Jack's unease. "I never actually thanked you for delivering the eulogy."
Jack's first instinct was to apologize. Again. His second was to explain that he would have deferred to someone more qualified, but no one'd stepped up. He'd worked through all the defenses before realizing that none of them were a gracious way to accept someone's thanks. "I know I probably wouldn't have been your first choice," he evaded.
Jacob looked up, a Really now expression playing in his eyes. Jack knew he was being an idiot, but didn't know on what count. He cleared his throat.
Jacob looked down at the healing device, tying up loose ends before letting it deactivate. Both knew this was something that should be talked about. Neither knew what to say.
For the moment, at least, the awkwardness was cut short when Daniel barged into the infirmary, pulling up short as if he'd walked into something he wasn't supposed to see. "Oh! – hey," he said. "Um. I just put Satya back in my lab. Hammond said I should come down here."
"Yes," Jack said, taking the initiative to dump the conversation behind him. "Translation."
"Translation?" Daniel said, not following.
Jacob's head drooped, and Selmak cleared his throat. "We've obtained several files encoded in Ancient. We have few clues as to what they contain, but we hope they may provide us with means of finding a tactical advantage."
"Daniel. C'mere," Jack said, beckoning him over. "Healing device," he said by way of explanation.
Daniel obeyed on autopilot. "Do you have any idea what's in the files?"
"Only speculation." Selmak reached out automatically, activating the healing device over Daniel's shoulder. Daniel glanced down, blinking. "Hopefully, tactical or technical specifications. At this point anything will help."
"Okay. Well, if you have the files, I can get started on them now," Daniel said, taking a step and a half away before he realized that healing was best administered stationary. "...or whenever you're done. Er, thanks, by the way."
Selmak nodded. "And this alternate project of yours?"
"Wh – Satya?" Daniel asked. "What about her?"
"'Her?'" Jack asked. This was new.
Daniel stopped short. "Well... as far as I know, it doesn't technically have a sex or gender, but calling it 'it' all the time seemed pretty impolite."
"Daniel, I swear to God, if you wind up dating this thing–"
Jack found himself in the force of two stern gazes. Possibly three, though he couldn't tell. He waved a hand in surrender again.
"She's the representative of a race of beings who live in PV1-542's sun," Daniel volunteered. "Noncorporeal, not quite nontemporal but she certainly regards time differently than we do. Able to manipulate complex physical states, produce sound, shut off incoming 'gates, throw people across rooms." He gestured to his shoulder. "Somewhat hindered in communication by a desire to understand every nuance of everything before moving from point to point, which under other circumstances might actually be admirable."
"I've never heard of such a species," Selmak said.
"Neither had we, until we went to the planet," Daniel said. "But that's really no surprise. The star is almost impossible to approach. It can disable a ship in a matter of seconds – that's what happened to the first ship Anubis sent."
"What?" Selmak asked.
Daniel looked up. "The radiation," he clarified. "It's no surprise no one could get close enough to the pulsar to discover the entities."
"You say Anubis lost a ship," Selmak prompted.
Daniel blinked. On occasion he forgot that the Tok'ra and Free Jaffa weren't playing for the same team any more – they didn't share intel. "Yeah," he said. "He sent his First Prime, Herak, in his hok'ha'tak to take care of us the first time. Herak flew too close to the sun." His voice changed on the last words, picking up on the joke for the first time. (Like Icarus.) He shook his head to clear the tangent.
"It was a bit more impressive than that," Jack said. "He came into the system and boom. Like flipping a switch." He illustrated the fly-by with a fist and flattened hand. "Guess his shields weren't quite as good as ours." (As much good as it did us.)
"Interesting," Selmak said. Daniel moved to bring up the Jaffa council, their bid to find a way to use the star as a weapon, but didn't speak quickly enough. Selmak had other ideas. "Was the ship itself destroyed?"
"I don't think so."
Selmak nodded, letting the healing device go dormant. "Excuse me," he said.
"O...kay," Daniel said.
Selmak fished in his tunic, pulling out a Tok'ra hand computer. "Here are the files," he said, handing it to Daniel. "Please devote as much time as you are able to them."
"I will," Daniel said.
Selmak switched back to Jacob, who glanced over the infirmary, momentarily conflicted. "I'll come back for these boys in a bit," he said. "Nice seeing both of you again."
"Always a pleasure," Jack said, as Jacob took off. He looked to Daniel, but it was clear neither of them knew what was going on. "Well," he said. "I don't think there's any reason we need to stick around here."
"Yeah," Daniel said, turning over the hand computer and flicking it on. He glanced over the text as it presented itself, grimacing. This was decidedly not late Ancient – he didn't recognize half of the forms. (Well, that's what sixteen journals of extensive notes are for,) he reasoned, walking out into the hallway. Jack followed. "There was something I wanted to ask you."
Jack grunted.
"'Colin Craven?'" Daniel asked.
Jack folded his arms. "Famous invalid? The Secret Garden?" At Daniel's continued confusion he rolled his eyes. "Come on. You've never read it?"
"Actually, I'm more than a little surprised that you have," he said.
Jack pretended to take offense. "I read occasionally."
"The Secret Garden?"
"I read it a couple of times," Jack said. "...usually aloud."
"Ah," Daniel mouthed.
Jack's tone fell. "It was one of Sara's favorite books," he explained, his enthusiasm for the conversation gone. He exhaled, somewhat surprised that he could do so comfortably. "So?" he asked. "What's up?"
"Huh?"
Jack gestured as if the question was self-evident. Daniel quickly interpreted.
"Something's bothering me."
(That's obvious.) "About?"
"Satya."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, something bothers me about Satya, too."
Daniel was too preoccupied to notice that Jack had gotten the name right for once. "I don't know quite what it is."
"Need help?"
Daniel remained unamused, if he recognized the joke at all. "Ever since she told me how young she was," he said. "You know she actually came into existence after we left '542?"
Jack looked dutifully impressed. "Precocious kid."
"Yeah, but that's not what's bugging me."
"There's more?"
"Yeah – something else. Something about why she's here. I don't know." He shook his head. "Something isn't adding up right, and I can't figure out what it is."
"You're telling me there are things adding up right?"
"As much as they ever do." Daniel paused by the elevator, looking for all the world as if he was on the verge of realizing what was wrong. After a moment, he shook his head. "I don't know." He quirked his head, studying Jack. "Are you coming to help with the translation, or are you just following me because you have nothing better to do?"
"Barking up the wrong genius," Jack replied automatically. He smiled at Daniel's expression. "Good luck."
"Thanks." The elevator opened, and Daniel stepped in.
-
George was already elbow-deep in Beta Site reports when Jacob knocked, poking his head in without further preamble. George slid the reports away. "Jacob," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"
"I want to see the mission reports from–" He paused, trying to dredge up the designation. Quietly, Selmak prompted him. "–PV1-542." (Thanks.)
George nodded. "Of course." Technically, with the dissolution of the alliance, Jacob had no legal grounds to demand them. But letting politics stand in the way of cooperation now would be petty, if not suicidal. At any given time about three months' backlog of mission reports resided in a file folder at the back of the General's office, so finding the reams of paper devoted to the pulsar planet was simple. George fished out the most comprehensive overviews – the two Colonels', Major Carter's initial reports, and the second-lead scientist's – and handed them over. Jacob took them, scanning them quickly. "If I can ask," George said, "what are you looking for?"
"Anubis has only a few advanced ships," Jacob said. "New ones, at least. Most of the rest are his old ones, which are better than most Goa'uld motherships but nowhere near as advanced as, say, the hok'ha'tak Anubis used to attack Abydos."
George nodded. "So?"
"So that ship was never destroyed, as I understand it," Jacob said. "It was wiped clean by the pulsar. At the moment it's probably an irradiated hunk of metal drifting through space, but that doesn't mean it can't be salvaged. And if Anubis is focusing his efforts on making new ships and getting them into play as soon as possible, he may not have gone back to retrieve it."
Realization dawned on George's face.
"Now, it was moving when it got hit," Jacob said. "It's possible it fell into orbit or crashed into the planet, but it's just as likely that it wouldn't. It probably hasn't cleared the pulsar's kill zone yet, but when it does, we might be able to get to it."
In which case they would have one ship to contend with Anubis' growing fleet. The odds didn't impress either General, but they were an improvement nonetheless. "What can we do?" George asked.
Jacob shook his head. "At the moment, keep Dr. Jackson on that translation. I'll take this information to the Tok'ra High Council. We'll see how fast we can get a tel'tak out there to monitor the situation."
"All right," George agreed. "And I assume you'll inform us of your findings."
"Oh, I'll be back here one way or another," Jacob said.
-
(Hello,) Satya greeted – as always – when Daniel stepped into the lab.
"Hello, Satya," Daniel said. "Sorry for the false alarm before. Thanks for coming down to the 'gateroom with me." He had no idea if she felt inconvenienced by it, but it cost nothing to be polite.
(You're welcome,) she said, accompanied by a buzzing "Yrrrl." (Did things turn out well?)
"I'd say so," Daniel said. "For now."
(Should we continue our discussions?)
"I'd love to," Daniel apologized, "but something's come up. I need to translate something." He watched, trying to decipher a reaction. "It might help us fight Anubis."
(I understand.) Satya made a slow half-rotation. (We'll talk later.)
Somehow, she delivered the line without a hint of ominousness. "Thanks," Daniel said, and turned to the translation.
Six minutes passed in silence before a flash of light and heat filled the room.
Daniel froze. (That really can't have been–) He checked over one shoulder, stiffened unpleasantly, and finally got his feet and mind communicating well enough to turn.
Satya had condensed into something humanoid – at least, she had made a valiant attempt. She exhibited a distinct head and torso and four distinct limbs, the upper two of which terminated in rudimentary fingers and the lower two of which widened into flat stumps. She hadn't known what to do with most of the facial features, and her solution to imitating eyes was to dim the majority of her body and pour out the light through two circles roughly where eyes would be. They glowed with the intensity of small searchlights.
"Hhhhwwww," she hummed.
Daniel pulled off his glasses, cleaning them on a corner of his jacket before replacing them. The scene continued not to make sense. "Satya..." he began, three different questions fighting for simultaneous access to his tongue. "Please tell me you didn't just emit a pulse of radiation," won out.
(I changed states,) Satya said. (This required expenditure of energy. Is it good?)
"It's... very distinctive," Daniel said. "Very UFO. I really need to know what that flash was."
(Energy.) Satya turned her head, an action which totally failed to seem natural. Daniel tried not to shudder. (I've made you uncomfortable.)
"No! No. Uh... yes, a little, but that's okay," Daniel said. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just need to know what kind of energy you put out."
"Whhhhatkind," Satya said. Her speech didn't seem any more natural, either, as she hadn't gone to the trouble to synthesize a mouth.
"Yeah. Uh, okay." (...I can't believe I'm doing this.) He took a deep breath. "Light, and things like radio waves, electricity, and all of those exist in the same spectrum as other things like gamma radiation, which is very dangerous to organic life."
(Oh.) Satya's arms moved feebly. (I don't know how to distinguish these. Can you demonstrate gamma radiation?)
Daniel swallowed hard. "I'm sure one of the scientists could whip something up. –ah, in the mean time, I really have to go do something, so if you want to stay here – or, come along, whatever–" he headed at an angle for the door, nearly colliding with the man coming in.
"Hey!" Dr. McKay said.
"Heyyynnngh," Daniel responded. "What're you doing here?"
"I stopped in earlier to get information from the entity to clear up some of the records from '542," McKay explained. "I was hoping it would–" He trailed off. "...what's that?"
"That?" Daniel looked where he was staring. "Oh, that's Satya," he answered. "The entity."
"It looks different," McKay said.
"Oh, she changed states," Daniel told him. "From energy to... solid energy."
McKay jabbed his pencil entity-ward. "I'm pretty sure that's not possible."
"Yeah, well, welcome to the SGC," Daniel said. "I have to go see Fraiser to make sure I haven't accidentally irradiated myself, but you two have fun."
"Wh–" McKay began, but Daniel was already several metres down the hall.
-
Jack got to see a lot of administrative paperwork. On occasion, he even had to do some. Two things happened as a consequence of this: he realized that he really didn't envy Hammond his job, and he developed skills and tactics related to the avoidance of work. Most of these were based on the simple principle Act busy, and most of that manifested itself in the time-honored practice of harassing his scientists. His scientist, singular, these days.
So, after checking in with Hammond to get the latest updates, it was only natural he'd find himself taking the stairs to Level 18.
He looked both ways before stepping out into the hall, but saw no overenthusiastic documentarists lying in wait. With a wary look toward the general library, he made his way toward the labs.
Daniel wasn't there.
For a moment he entertained the ludicrous idea that he'd come out on the wrong level, because why else would McKay be in residence with diagnostic equipment? But McKay probably wouldn't have books on generative syntax and artifacts from various worlds cluttering the shelves and walls, so that explanation was flawed at best. The fact that he was taking readings on a glowing alien Jack was positive he hadn't seen before only made the situation more confusing.
He cleared his throat. "Doctor?"
McKay turned sharply. "Colonel. What are you doing here?"
"Looking for Daniel," Jack said. Aside from conversing with possible alien invaders, McKay seemed no more suspicious than usual. Jack sternly pushed the image of Daniel stuffed into a closet out of his mind. As if there would be room on top of all the books. "What are you and – what is that? – doing here?"
"Dr. Jackson went to the infirmary," McKay said. "I came to ask the entity some questions."
(What?) "And the entity is...?" Jack asked. One thing at a time.
McKay pointed at the glowing alien. "Don't ask me."
"And you say Daniel went to the infirmary?"
"Uh, yeah. Said something about radiation."
"Radiation?"
"I really didn't get details," McKay said. "All I know is that it's not putting out radiation that I can detect. I mean, thermal radiation, UV rays, but nothing dangerous."
(Okay. Daniel irradiated himself again and the entity went Close Encounters on us. Sadly, this makes sense.) "Infirmary," he double-checked.
McKay sounded annoyed. "Well, he said he was going to see Dr. Fraiser, so that's what I'd assume."
"Right," Jack said, with another glance at the alien. Entity. It stared at him from bright, round eyes. "...right. I'll be up there."
He left quickly.
-
Fortunately, Daniel didn't look too badly irradiated when Jack stopped in, waving off Fraiser as she made to come over. He hadn't changed into scrubs and wasn't attached to anything, which was usually a good sign. He looked more shaken than anything, but that was eminently understandable. "What's up?"
Daniel shook his head. "Long story," he said. "You?"
"Doing rounds. Checking things." Jack examined him more closely. "So, what're you in for?"
"I was a bit worried that Satya started spontaneously emitting radiation," Daniel said. "Apparently she didn't, but I don't doubt that she could if she wanted to."
(Great. One more thing I wish it – 'she?' – it couldn't do.)
"Well, your little entity is growing up into a fine... something. I tell you, that thing is getting progressively more disturbing."
Daniel paused. "Say that again."
"What? 'It's disturbing?'"
"Not that." Daniel waved a hand. "The other thing."
"That it's growing into a nobody knows what?"
Daniel blinked. "That's it," he said.
"What's what?" Jack asked.
"What's been bothering me," Daniel said. "She's too young."
"Yes...?" Jack said. "I thought we established that."
"Yes, but–" Daniel shook his head. "What I mean is–"
"Look, whatever," Jack said. "That's not what I came here for. Have you seen Teal'c since the wounded came in?"
Daniel thought back. "No," he said. "I haven't."
"What about Bregman?"
"...no."
"Uh-huh," Jack said, gnawing at the inside of his lip. "Well, that's probably not a good sign. Anyway, good luck with your entity."
"It's not my–" Daniel began, and Jack disappeared. As Jack was wont to do.
Daniel shrugged it off and walked back to his lab.
(Hello,) Satya said.
(One of these days,) he thought, (I'm going to have to find a way to explain when you do and don't have to say "Hello.") "I'm curious," he said. "Why do you feel you have an identity you're missing?"
"Why?" Satya repeated, hollowing out the word.
"You're very young," he explained. "From our perspective, the fact that you can communicate, that you can comprehend everything you can, is incredible. But people are not necessarily born with identities. It takes a while to develop them." He studied Satya's face, hoping for an expression that didn't materialize. "I could understand if older entities felt that they'd lost identity. You confuse me. I don't know why you feel it's natural to have an identity this early in your life."
(I shouldn't?)
Daniel backpedaled. "I didn't say you shouldn't. If you do, that's enough. I just want to know why."
Satya stared, unblinking. "I just do." (I can't explain. I only experience.) "I could–" (I could give you that experience? If that would help.)
Daniel caught himself. "As fascinating as that sounds, it might not be such a good idea," he said. Simple transfer of unrelated information had nearly driven Jack to an existential crisis. Not only did he not want to tie up the Stargate, he couldn't imagine having the entity's identity issues dumped directly into his consciousness. "But let's move on from there. You're sure you have an identity."
"Yes," Satya said.
"What else are you sure of? Or suspect?"
(Relating to identity?) "I have a distinct identity. An objective identity. I will recognize this identity. Once recognized I will retain it." (This is consistent with my observations.)
"You see?" Daniel asked. "Your intuition is good. You just need to take bigger steps – bigger leaps of reasoning. Trust yourself to find the answers. You just need a little faith."
(Faith,) Satya thought. Then, audibly, "Faith."
"Faith. Trust. Courage. Don't be afraid to make larger intuitive leaps."
(Because, if identity is intuitive, than an intuitive approach to discovering identity is more logical than a logical one.)
Daniel laughed. "Yeah. Basically."
(That's both logical and counterintuitive,) Satya said.
"Because you intuitively look for a logical approach?"
"Yes."
He nodded. "Well, I can understand that." He thought back. "The problem is, our logic is limited by our knowledge, and sometimes we can't construct an explanation as easily as we can assume one. I remember this planet called Kheb..." he trailed off. "Sometimes what we think is illogical is completely natural; it's just that our understanding of nature is incomplete or flawed. On Kheb..." he trailed off again.
On Kheb, dealing with Oma for the first time, when he'd first been exposed to the powers of an Ascended being, it had been Sam who'd remained skeptical, who'd looked for the logical answer. Concealed technology, slight-of-hand, something to fit what she saw into what she knew. Through Oma, Shifu, Orlin, him – she'd eventually made a place for them. Written them in as one more unexplained natural mystery up there with quantum physics and temporal theory. Eventually she'd related to them as she did everything else.
"I wish you'd had a chance to meet Sam," he said. "You remind me of her. Your intuition. She was also a very logical person, but she had a way of seeing something and just understanding it. And an incredible sense of curiosity, just like yours."
"I'm like Sam," Satya said.
"In some ways, yes, you're incredibly like her."
"Am I Sam?" Satya asked.
He hadn't been prepared for the question, and it hit him like a gutpunch. "...no," he said, and his voice sounded small and weak even to his own ears. "Sam is gone."
Satya faded. (Gone. Define?)
(...maybe I shouldn't have told it to leap,) he thought. (Maybe I'm being too impatient. Maybe sticking with a logical, slow progression is the best way...) He tried to face the truth, once more. It didn't feel like death, now. But it didn't feel much better. "Sam died."
"Sam does not exist," Satya supplied.
And now it felt worse. Satya probably couldn't read his expression, which was good – he couldn't control it. "...I don't know," he admitted. (You'd think I'd be an expert. You'd think I'd know all there was to know about it. But even given how often it's happened, I really have no more idea than anyone else.) "No one knows. There's been a lot of speculation, a lot of religions have tried to explain–" his sentence tied itself in inextricable knots. "What you call identity, a lot of humans call 'soul,' and what happens to the soul after death is–" he stopped again, started again. "I mean, for all I know–"
He ground to a halt. (...for all I know? For all I know, you're right. For all I know, you're–)
He stared.
Satya flickered. (...you're angry,) she guessed.
He jumped. "No! I just–"
(You're upset,) she guessed again. (I've made an incorrect assumption.)
He couldn't answer one way or another.
Galvanizing himself into action, he stood – stood too fast, tipping over the chair in which he'd been sitting. He mumbled something incoherent while trying to set it to rights. "Satya, would you wait here?" he said quickly. "I have to – I'll be back. Just wait here. Okay?"
Satya radiated confusion. Daniel nearly tripped over the chair once more on his way out the door.
-
He made it halfway down the stairs before his breath caught up with him.
It shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did. Rationally, he knew that. And it had come to the point where he could say her name or think of her without flinching, without sounds and sensations falling over him too tangled and too tight to escape. But this was different. This wasn't a mere mention, it was–
Her death was no longer intrusive. It still bothered him, and it certainly still hurt, but it didn't press itself into his consciousness at every opportunity. It was more that there was a slot not being filled, a Sam Carter-shaped hole in the way the universe should have been. Mentally, he had to keep stepping around it or he'd fall in.
And Satya had pushed him straight over the edge.
Jack was speaking with Hammond when Daniel burst into the office, catching himself against the doorframe. "Jack!"
Jack turned quickly, gearing himself up for colossal badness. "What?"
"Satya," Daniel managed, before his lungs had quite refilled with air. "Jack, I think–" he stopped, glancing around the office. "Is this a bad time?"
Jack looked back to Hammond. Hammond looked at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, what's going on?"
Daniel shook his head. "Uh... Jack. Can I talk to you? Alone? Just for a moment? I'd explain–" he cast Hammond an apologetic look.
Jack turned to his CO. "Sir?"
Hammond shrugged with one hand. Jack mirrored the gesture, and steered Daniel into the briefing room.
"You boys wanna step outside for a bit?" he said to the SFs at the entrances. They nodded, removing themselves. Jack turned to Daniel, who still hadn't mastered the art of breathing at a normal pace. (Seriously. No way can this be good.) "What's up?"
"How much do you remember about my Ascension?" Daniel asked.
Jack nearly choked on his own breath. After several days of choking on everything else, it was an unwelcome event. "Excuse me?"
"I mean – I can't remember much about it. And it's not like I haven't tried, either, it's just – I kinda remember talking to you, telling you something or other, and then bits and pieces, and then waking up on Vis Uban. But I don't know how much I told you."
Jack cleared his throat uneasily. This was not a subject he enjoyed discussing. Or remembering. "Why do you ask?"
"I don't know what happened," Daniel said. "I know I Ascended. But was it something I did? Was it something Oma did for me? –to me? What about Shifu?" he asked, switching topics so fast Jack's head spun. "We know Oma taught him to forget, the same as when Oma blocked my memories when I – I mean, even Ascended beings can have anomalies in their memories," he said. "We don't know the extent of that, or–"
"Daniel!" Jack interrupted.
"What if something could Ascend you without your control?" Daniel asked. "What if that same process could take away every memory you'd ever formed?"
"Then you'd have the most pointless something in the history of pointless things," Jack said. "What are we even talking about?"
"Everything!" Daniel said. "Everything that didn't make sense. Why of all the entities in the pulsar, this particular one came here, despite the fact that she didn't exist to see us or Anubis' attack. Why she feels that she should have an identity but doesn't. What if she did once?"
Jack shook his head. "You think Satya is some Ascended someone who got their brain messed with."
"I think Satya is Sam," Daniel said.
Everything telescoped. Jack's world narrowed, blocking out thought, blocking out color, blocking out sound. "What?" he said, and barely heard himself speak.
"When I was working on the Tok'ra files," Daniel said. "I got sidetracked. We started talking about identity – again – and she doesn't act like someone who can't form an identity, she acts like someone who's lost it."
"Go back to the part where it's Sam?"
"The timing is perfect so far as I can tell. And her instincts – why she came here. You should talk to her, Jack – her intuition, the way she thinks, her logic – you know McKay's been talking with her about the pulsar? Her interest in things, her – her attitudes – I'll admit not everything is spot-on, but it's close. Close enough. Closer than some people would be with their memories wiped."
So many mental wheels spun at once that Jack couldn't hear himself think over them. "Do you have any proof?" came out of his mouth.
"Proof? No, not as such. Just–" Daniel gestured helplessly.
Jack's voice dropped in pitch and volume. "This is not an idea you want to toss around casually right now."
Daniel stared. The bottom had dropped out of his universe, and that fact reflected in his eyes. "Who's taking this casually?"
Jack scrambled for words, for sense in the confusion. "It's just now, with everything going on–"
"Jack." Daniel's tone said what his words couldn't. Trust me. Believe me. Listen to me.
When he put it like that...
Daniel had a habit of being right about these things, or at least wrong in useful ways. A side effect of having his head stuck in a universe no one else quite got was that he noticed things no one else did. Jack didn't buy that Carter had reincarnated as the walking nightlight in Daniel's lab. That would qualify as miraculous luck, and at the moment he didn't believe in luck outside the spectrum of bad. But Daniel was on the scent, and it was best to humor him.
He steadied himself before walking into Hammond's office again. "Sir, I'd call Teal'c up here. Daniel has an interesting theory to present."
-
Time of undefined duration elapsed before Satya's logic resolved. Daniel had been upset. Daniel had left upset. Both indicated that something bad had happened. Something undesirable.
He'd asked her to remain in the enclosure, which didn't make sense. She understood that she had the ability to stop incoming wormholes, and understood the value of that; she didn't understand what could be obtained by her remaining stationary. But bad things were happening, and she'd agreed to help. She needed further instruction. And if she'd been the cause of the bad things, which she suspected, she needed to know what not to do.
(Find Daniel,) she thought – instinctively, intuitively, without pitching it so that humans could hear.
She'd studied human locomotion, but she had a lot left to extrapolate. She knew that it was a process of shifting a center of gravity from one point to another, balancing it over the mirrored lower struts, but didn't know the internal mechanics – the extent to which they could manipulate their internal alignment. She put one "foot" forward, carefully realigning her structure so that it represented the majority of her density before placing the other in front of it. She repeated the process, getting used to the feel of it, totally unaware that in comparison to a human walk she looked unnaturally fluid and mechanical.
She made it into the hall, reconciling the boundaries with what she had gleaned from Colonel Jack O'Neill's mind, from Daniel's, and from her own earlier excursions. Eventually she headed for the stairs – a sure means of moving between levels in a solid state. From a few of the rooms she could identify sounds. Everything was so excessively compartmentalized, something she'd never experienced before coming to the cold marble or here. Even after coming, before she'd made herself solid, it hadn't constrained her in such a way.
"Hey!"
Satya stopped moving. Another human, one she didn't recognize, approached. Three, actually. They'd been coming her way – maybe that was why she'd been instructed to remain there? She felt along the air, replicating in exacting detail the minor compressions to "speak." "Hello?"
"Wow," the human said. "That's – that's amazing. I was wondering, could I – I'm Emmet Bregman, by the way. I'm here to document what goes on here. Could I have a moment of your time?"
Once again, it came down to moments and time. Satya reached for the elusive understanding – once again, it evaded. It didn't feel good. It was important – obviously so, obvious from the patterns their minds were locked inside, obvious from the way they talked, the way they thought. But totally incomprehensible. (I don't understand!)
Emmet Bregman jumped. "What was – I'm sorry? I just want to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"
Satya examined him – sound, mass, approach and words. "Yes." After all, she wanted questions. "You gather data. This is good." She heard her own voice, and deemed it passible. Such a replication made her proud. "What are your devices?"
Emmet Bregman turned, examining them. "These? These are just to record. I'm sure you must have something similar?"
"We don't have technology."
His head tilted vertically – down, up, down again. She moderated the surface tension of her analogue, trying to replicate the motion. "I see," he said. "Uh, thank you. This is – wow. I mean, this is really an amazing opportunity. Your name is Satya, right?"
"Daniel named me Satya," she said. "To indicate a desire for truth and identity."
He pressed a hand to his centre. "I also desire truth," he said. "That's why I'm creating this documentary. Unfortunately, the people here haven't been too cooperative. They're in a tough position," he conceded.
(Why?) she asked, without synthesizing sound.
He jerked again, coinciding with her words. "What are you doing right there?"
"This is more intuitive speech," she said. "You're uncomfortable."
He nodded again. "It's very strange."
"I'm sorry."
"No, that's perfectly all right. I'm sorry, what was your question?"
"Why?" she asked.
Emmet Bregman's head rotated along another axis – horizontally. Again, Satya attempted to replicate the gesture, observing carefully to divine its meaning. "Oh," he said, after repeating the motion. His sound changed – the complex alterations that Satya had come to associate with apology or uncertainty. "These people have a strong interest in concealing things," he said. "And they have their reasons for it. Security and safety, mostly. It's hard for them to let go of that, even for legitimate concerns."
A number of Satya's conceptions shifted. (Concealing?) she wondered to herself. (Misrepresentation of accurate states for selective purposes.) "I see."
The information filed itself away with a trillion other nuances, to be mulled over and assembled into a cohesive whole. For now, she had other priorities.
"What do you want to know?"
-
Daniel had found a seat by the time Teal'c stepped in, though Jack's expression suggested that he'd made more of an ordeal out of it than was necessary. Colonel O'Neill wasn't looking forward to this meeting.
Teal'c nodded to them as he took a seat, slightly less impassive than always.
"Where have you been?" Jack asked in the interests of stalling.
"Thinking," Teal'c said.
(Ah. Probably locked himself in his room with his eight thousand candles.) "Anything earth-shattering? Or earth-saving?"
"No."
Not surprising. Still, Jack couldn't help the feeling he'd come up with something – his tone was three degrees warmer than flat frustration. (Well, if he thinks it's important, he'll come out with it. Until then we have so many other things to worry about.) "Someone briefed you about Jacob?"
Teal'c nodded.
Jack exhaled, and glanced at Hammond. Hammond looked to Daniel.
Daniel took a deep breath, trying to organize his ideas into words. He knew he sounded crazy, but didn't know where to start so as to sound sane. "We know that humans are capable of existing as energy," he began. "We've also seen evidence that an Ascended mind is no more immutable than an organic mind, and can still suffer anomalies of thought, memory, and intuition."
Hammond looked in no mood to sit through a theory lecture. "I assume this has something to do with the entity, Satya," he said.
Daniel nodded, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. He hadn't given much thought to organizing his argument. He hadn't had the presence of mind to. "General, the people on that planet and the entities maintained a communicative relationship that, to all indications–"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Daniel!"
Daniel jumped.
Jack turned to Hammond, cutting to the chase without regard to tact. "Daniel thinks Carter might have Ascended and wound up as that thing."
Hammond's expression hopped from tolerant to shocked without passing through the stages between. He looked to Daniel, who winced. "Do you have any evidence?"
"Circumstantial," Daniel admitted. "But it's an answer to a lot of the questions I've had."
"Do you know how this could happen?"
"No. No, I – we know that Ascended beings can help others Ascend. It's possible the other entities helped her."
"And conveniently forgot to inform her of the fact," Jack said.
Daniel shrunk in. The initial shock had faded, and Jack's cynicism had warmed up. This meeting would not get any easier. "If this is Ascension, it's an imperfect process," he said. "Memory – identity should be intact."
"Which apparently isn't the case," Hammond said. "So how do you know?"
"I don't know, exactly–" Daniel looked around the table. "But she was the one who came here. She has an intuitive understanding of wormhole physics. She came into existence as an entity just as we left the pulsar."
Hammond moved his hand. "That's not a lot to go on."
"No. It's not." Daniel ground his teeth. "A lot is just gut feeling. The way she thinks and interacts. It's recognizable if you look for it, it's just hard to quantify."
Hammond turned. "Colonel, aside from Dr. Jackson, you've had more contact with the entity than any of us," he said. "What's your opinion?"
Daniel looked down. Jack sighed – once again, he had to be the cold voice of realism. "As far as I can tell, sir, it's an alien. It stuck itself inside my head a couple of times, and I don't remember recognizing Carter."
"Her identity was erased," Daniel said.
"In which case it's a little hard to decide either way."
Silence passed around the table.
"Should we not inform Jacob Carter?" Teal'c asked, pre-empting Daniel as he regrouped his arguments.
"No!" Jack said. "Not until we have more information."
Daniel stared. "He's her father, Jack."
"And we don't know it's her. If you ask me, this entire thing sounds kinda sketchy." He looked at Hammond, then back at Daniel, lowering his voice. "He's still dealing with her death. As are the rest of us, I might add."
"But if I'm right–"
"If you're not, we're not putting him through that," Jack said. His voice dropped another few decibels. "It'd be like losing her all over again."
Hammond watched him silently.
"General," Daniel said.
"I'm inclined to agree with Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said. He knows what he's talking about, he didn't. "In any case, this may be a discussion for another time. Unless we can conclusively determine that the entity is Major Carter and find a way to restore her to normal, the reality is that it makes no difference to the situation at hand."
Daniel opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again when he realized that Hammond was right. It made a difference to him, not to the war effort.
"Right," he said. "Sorry."
Hammond stood. "See what you can find out," he instructed to soften the blow. "Keep me apprised."
Daniel nodded as Hammond bowed out. Teal'c lingered for a moment, observing, before heading for the stairs.
Jack put both palms on the table, focusing on damage control. "Daniel, it's not that we don't trust your instincts–"
Daniel glared over his glasses, clearly in no mood to be sweet-talked.
"We're just saying it merits further study," Jack tried. "Further study" was a good phrase. A Carter phrase, in point of fact. It emphasized the need for caution as well as affirming plausibility.
Daniel stood. "Never mind. I shouldn't have brought it up." He pushed his chair in, ramming it against the table. "Now's not the time."
(Damn right it's not.) Jack groaned inwardly. Daniel's mind went in too many directions at once even without external distractions, and this had not been a week for uninterrupted study. Bregman had only asked questions about Carter, and Jack had come down on him for that. To be fair, he really should be kicking the entity's ass for this. Or at least its ass-equivalent. He didn't think Daniel would go for that plan. "What do you want?"
"Talk to her," Daniel said, switching from sullen to entreating faster than should have been possible.
Jack winced.
"Just talk," Daniel pressed. "She won't scramble your brain just talking."
Jack raised both hands in surrender. "All right. I'll talk. But I doubt you'll change my mind."
-
Daniel's office was empty when they stepped in.
Jack looked over the premises, ensuring that nothing glowed that shouldn't be glowing. "Daniel?"
"What?"
"You didn't think it important to ask an SF to keep an eye on... her?"
"Up until a few hours ago she could go through walls," Daniel said. "Besides, she didn't do anything but float in the corner."
"I think she's doing something else now, though."
Daniel crossed his arms, doing a fair impression of a badger backed into a corner. "I am not her keeper," he said. "I've been trying to do ten different things at once. I don't have time to waste trying to keep someone uninterested in causing trouble out of trouble."
Jack held up both hands in a quiet I surrender. Daniel was frazzled, and making him defensive helped nothing.
"I told her to stay here," Daniel said, turning to her corner.
(So it doesn't follow orders,) Jack thought. "Should I be ordering a strategic sweep of the base?"
"She's not a danger, she's just–"
"Unpredictable?"
Daniel swallowed the adjective. "I don't know where she'd go."
Jack considered. "Maybe I should come back later."
"Wait on that," Daniel said, peering out into the hall. Jack followed his attention – a patch of light like a flashlight's beam swayed along the wall. (Something glowing this way comes.)
Satya padded in, very deliberately rotating her head to observe them. (There you are,) she communicated. (You were not in the areas I explored.) "Hello. Hello."
Daniel tried not to wince at its motion. "You were looking for us? Me?"
"Yes."
(Oh, yes.) "Daniel?" Jack asked, regarding Satya warily. "About this."
"Oh! Satya changed states," Daniel explained, not that Jack hadn't already seen that. "She wanted to approximate a more human form."
Jack looked skeptical. "It's nice," he lied.
Satya moved her head, diverting her attention to Daniel again. (You were upset when you left,) she said with conviction. (It wasn't my intention.)
"I know," Daniel said. "It's all right. I wasn't upset with you. Uh, Jack's here to talk to you," he introduced. "About your intuition."
Jack rolled his eyes, trying to come up with something to say. This wasn't the most awkward conversation he'd ever been dragged into, but it was still far from comfortable. "Hey," he said at length.
"Hey?" the entity repeated.
Jack glanced at Daniel, who hung on the exchange with childlike desperation. Jack exhaled, making the effort for his sake. "So, how's the identity thing coming?"
"Counterintuitively," Satya said.
(Meaning...?) "Aha," he said. "Uh. Sorry to hear that."
"Sorry?"
(Huh?) He shook his head. "So, Daniel thinks you might be..." he stumbled on a phrasing. "A good friend of ours."
(Major Samantha Carter, US Air Force,) Satya supplied in a perfect approximation of Carter's voice. He could almost place the memory she'd plucked it from.
"Yeah. That's the one."
"Am I?"
Jack answered carefully. "You tell me."
"I don't know," Satya said. "How can I identify this identity?"
"I don't know," Jack said, glancing sidelong at Daniel. "I'd think you'd know."
"I don't."
"I get that."
"You think I'm not," Satya said.
"I wouldn't dream of telling you who you are," Jack said. "As for who you're not..." He looked her over. "If you are Carter, you've got a pretty good cover story."
Satya went silent. Jack waited. And kept waiting. He looked at Daniel, and Daniel motioned him on.
"So?" Jack said at length.
"You're afraid I'm not her," Satya said.
"No." He shook his head. "I figured you weren't her."
"But you're afraid."
Jack shifted. He wouldn't have put it like that, but now that someone had... "Yeah. I guess."
"Of what?"
"I'm afraid that even if you're not, Daniel will convince you that you are and then you'll go and convince the rest of us." He glanced at Daniel, now frowning. "And we'll go on believing that, even though it's not true."
"My identity can change," she said.
Jack didn't follow. "What?"
She watched him, an element of sadness in her alien eyes. "If I became indistinguishable from her, down to my cognitive processes, would I be her?"
"No," Jack said, without thinking about the answer.
"Why not?"
Jack stopped short, trying to force his thoughts into words. At length, he answered with the only response he had. "Because you wouldn't be her."
-
He left the lab visibly shaken. He never wanted to have that conversation again – not that Satya had been particularly brutal, or emotional, or particularly anything except unsettling. But getting stuck between it and Daniel was unpleasantly like getting stuck between – well, like getting stuck between Daniel and anything he was irrationally invested in. Ke'ra or Reece or anything that would eventually come back to hurt them all in the end. What was worse, it usually wound up hurting Daniel more than anyone.
"Well?" Daniel asked.
Jack groaned inwardly. "It seems like an alien to me."
"At the moment."
He shook his head. "What are you getting at?"
"She's trying to reclaim an identity. Of course she doesn't have it now – just... hints. Indications of what it could be."
"Convenient," Jack said.
"Not really," Daniel chastised.
"Convenient for your argument," Jack backpedalled. "Yes or no, we can't disprove it."
"You're talking about the Swamp Man theory," Daniel said.
"The what?"
"Donald Davidson, Knowing One's Own Mind, nineteen eighty-seven," Daniel said. "Basically, assume Davidson walked into a swamp and was struck by lightning. Elsewhere in the swamp, another bolt of lightning coincidentally arranged a bunch of atoms in a shape exactly like Davidson, right down to the energy going through neural pathways in his brain. The swamp man would go on about Davidson's life, and everyone including it would believe it would be Davidson. But Davidson contends that it wouldn't." He smiled distantly. "Or, as he says, 'it couldn't recognize anything because it never cognized in the first place.' Despite being identical, its history wasn't Davidson's, and so any assumption based on that would be false."
"Should I be worried that you have all of this stuff memorized?" Jack asked. He was tired – the day had drained him more than he wanted to admit. He didn't have the resources to devote to Daniel's newest jaunt into existential philosophy, or whatever this was now.
"You have to admit it's an interesting problem." Daniel crossed his arms. "And not without relevance. Back when Apophis attacked Earth, and I went through the quantum mirror? We've since discovered that it could be reset, tuned to different addresses. Assume that happened while I was gone – I came back to a universe that wasn't technically mine, and the me who belonged to this universe wound up in mine, or somewhere else entirely. Maybe the only divergence between the two took place recently on – I don't know, on some Jaffa world that's never had any contact with Earth. The Earths of the two universes were identical."
Jack saw where this was going, and didn't like it. "Daniel–"
"In that case you and I would never have met before I came through the mirror. It would appear that we had, but it wouldn't be me. We'd interact as if we had worked together on X missions in Y circumstances for Z time, but all of those hypotheses would be false."
"...I guess," Jack said cautiously.
"Now assume that the other me – the me who belonged here – died," Daniel said. "In the last seven years would this have made any difference to you at all?"
Jack winced. "We're talking about totally different things," he said. "I think. As far as I know. This quantum mirror thing means that all of the yous out there are basically still you, right?"
Daniel moved in for the kill. "Only if you consider substance and not continuity to be what defines a person. In which case if Satya is indistinguishable from Sam, she is Sam, even if she wasn't always."
Jack cradled his forehead. This was like trying to untangle any given thing on Carter's blackboard. He could break down the words and letters and symbols, but put them all together and he drowned in gibberish.
He had a sudden, intense recollection of what it had been like when Satya touched his mind, and shuddered.
"You realize this is going to bother me all day," he said, dropping his hand.
Daniel nodded. "You know it's plausible."
"I know that getting yourself screwed up in a bunch of different universes and then getting killed off somewhere is exactly something you would do!" Jack shot back. "And as for your pet entity, no! I'm still not buying it!" He lowered his volume, but not his intensity. "It doesn't understand time. Carter understood time travel."
"Even humans are susceptible to physical injury that changes what they can understand. Ever heard of aphasia?"
"That's not the point!"
"What is your point?"
"I don't know!" Jack yelled. "It doesn't look like a Sam or quack like a Sam. So it's probably not Sam."
"Appearances aren't the point here! I know I wasn't exactly myself when I got back from Vis Uban, and this is a far more pervasive–"
"Might be, Daniel, might be! Not 'is!'"
"I've admitted the evidence is largely circumstantial, but you have to admit that it explains a lot–"
"Do I?"
"Jack!"
"Have you ever heard of Occam's razor?" Jack asked.
"Yes, 'explanation of a phenomenon should make as few assumptions as possible,' usually rendered as 'the simplest explanation is usually correct.' Well, when's the last time that argument held water around here?"
Once again it was Jack's turn to deflect. "That's not the point."
"What about her understanding of physics?" Daniel asked, pressing at anything that might possibly be an advantage. "You don't think–"
"Dammit, Daniel!" Jack didn't realize how far his patience had been pushed until he lost it. Even Daniel stopped, staring at him in surprise. "Carter was brilliant. I think we all got that memo. But there are lots of brilliant people out there, and not all of them are Carter."
"Jack–"
"This thing lived inside a star, for God's sake! Have you ever considered it might not be out of the ordinary for these things to know some stuff?"
"It's not just what she knows, it's–"
"You put any two people – entities, things, whatever – side by side, and you're going to see similarities if you look for them. And if you tell it to look for them, and it starts buying into this as well–"
"Her," Daniel corrected.
"–then you're just setting things up to see exactly what you expect!"
"Jack, I–"
"You're certain it's her?"
"Yes," Daniel answered, too quickly.
"And, for the sake of argument, what if it's not?"
Daniel dragged his teeth against each other, watching warily.
"If there's even the slightest possibility it's not," Jack said, "you need to keep that in mind. You won't do anyone any favors if you convince her she's someone she isn't. Especially not her."
"I know that," Daniel said, sounding for all the world like an annoyed teenager.
Jack watched him. He'd admit that he hoped Daniel was right – he couldn't deny that his heart had tried to climb up in his throat when Daniel delivered the news. The theory. But he couldn't escape the sinking feeling that it was going to be false hopes all over again, that it would burn them all in the end. "Don't just see what you want to see," he warned.
"You want Sam back as much as I do," Daniel said quietly, striking the heart of the issue without acknowledging anything else.
"Yes, I do," Jack said. "I want Sam back. I don't want the next best thing."
"And you're convinced that's what this is."
Jack spread his hands. "I don't know."
Daniel watched as he walked off. Part of him found it very sad that Jack was willing to let go any chance of finding Sam because he was afraid it might not pan out. He didn't realize that Jack thought something very similar: how sad it was that Daniel hoped and needed so strongly that he'd risk trapping them all in a delusion to reach after somebody already gone.
-
(Your mood is worse,) Satya observed.
Daniel went to his desk without prelude, shuffling a stack of notes and observations aside to make room for the Ancient translation. "It's just stress," he not-quite-lied.
(Can I help?)
He thought for a moment. "Do you know anything about the Ancient language?"
Satya moved her hands. "No."
"Then I'm not sure how you could, right now," he said.
Her eyes glowed in a manner totally unlike a Goa'uld's. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to apologize for," Daniel said.
"You mood is the result of my actions."
He pushed the translation aside. "No. Only indirectly."
She was silent.
He looked away, scanning the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Nothing told him what to do. "My mood is the result of trying to do too many things at once and not thinking before I open my mouth," he said, opting for undiluted truth. "It's the entire situation. The state of the universe. Not you."
"I'm a part of your immediate universe." She moved her hands again. (Approximating gesture,) Daniel thought. "I want to help."
He smiled weakly. "I know you do."
Another hand move accompanied an awkward, twisting tilt of her head. "Daniel. What if–" she stopped. (You want Sam back.)
He looked at her, tried to look through her. Tried to define, beyond a doubt, what she was or wasn't or could be or might be. "Yes. I do. We all do."
(And what if I'm not her?)
"Then you wouldn't be her." (If you are, it changes everything. If you aren't...) He shook his head. "I should get back to this translation," he said, reaching for the materials. (I just–)
"Do you desire truth, Daniel?"
He stopped midmotion. "What?"
"Do you desire truth?" Her voice modulated and flattened, humming into a different form. It had elements of... sadness, it seemed. Apology, reservation, uncertainty, fear. He couldn't isolate specifics.
"Yes," Daniel said. "That's part of why I work here."
"Do you misrepresent truth?"
He sat heavily. He'd tried to be entirely honest with her. He didn't know where the suspicion had come from. "I try not to," he said. "I don't want to. On occasion, yes, I've had to as part of my duties here. Sometimes, it's necessary – it's a lesser evil. The effects of misrepresenting the truth, of lying, are less harmful than telling the truth would be. But I don't enjoy it. I try not to, if it's not necessary."
She didn't visibly react. (Have you ever lied to me?) Her "voice" came tinged with the same muddle as her physical, but hurt more for being more direct. (Have you ever misrepresented the truth,) she amended.
"No," he said. "Never intentionally."
She was silent.
He struggled with words, trying to form a question, to ask why she'd asked. Before he could, his phone rang. Acting on instinct, he picked it up. "Hello."
"Dr. Jackson?" the voice said. "You're required in the briefing room."
Daniel's stomach knotted. "Now?"
"Yes, sir."
He looked at Satya. He didn't want to leave just now – to let the conversation hang on that note. But Anubis, or the Tok'ra, or the Jaffa, or whatever was happening wouldn't wait for him to untangle this mess. Assuming it could be untangled. "I'll be right up."
He hung up, looking despondently at the receiver. "I have to go," he told Satya. "I'll be back, though. All right?"
(All right,) she said, but her mental touch lacked something. He couldn't help the feeling that something had changed between them.
He tore himself away.
-
SG-1 reconvened in the briefing room with minimal fuss, though the standoff between Jack and Daniel didn't escape anyone's notice. Nor did Jack fail to notice that Teal'c's expression had still not reset to neutral – there was something in his eyes, but he couldn't tell what.
(There is something that man isn't telling us,) Jack thought. Of course, with Teal'c, that was a given.
Hammond cleared his throat as everyone sat. "Roughly three hours ago, CAIRN II tracked several objects entering the solar system beyond Neptune's orbit. They've just now been able to identify them. Three Goa'uld Al'kesh."
"Like the force that attacked the Beta Site," Daniel said.
"The force which attacked the Beta Site was likely a small scout fleet sent by Anubis to determine the state of the planet," Teal'c said. "Anubis knows both the location of Earth and its population. It is more likely these ships represent the vanguard for a larger Goa'uld fleet to come."
"A review of the engagements at the Beta Site suggest that the Prometheus may be a match for the al'kesh, even if it can't match an advanced mothership," Hammond said. "But that may only buy us a few days, if that, as well as tipping our hand. The president thinks it may be time to inform the world."
"Why?" Jack asked. "If every branch of every military on the planet mobilized–"
Daniel grimaced. "How about as a courtesy?"
"A sort of 'hi, just calling to tell you you're all gonna die?'"
Daniel dropped his head onto one palm, and shut up. (Why is it everything I say today makes something worse?)
"Colonel, what would you recommend?" Hammond asked.
Jack looked around the table, though apparently no one had any more of an idea than he did. "I think it's time to call in every marker we have."
"That may not amount to much," Hammond pointed out. "We can't contact the Asgard, and they've as much as admitted that they can't win a war against the Goa'uld. As far as we know, all of our other allies are in the same boat as us."
"It's better than doing nothing," Jack said.
"General," Teal'c put in. "I would like to return to the Jaffa, both to ascertain their status and to determine whether or not they have discovered a means of resistance."
Hammond nodded. As unlikely as Jaffa help was, there was nothing to be lost in looking for it. "I've already put a message through to the Tok'ra. Unfortunately they have little to offer." He turned to Daniel. "Has the entity offered anything?"
Daniel pulled his head back up. "She's offered to help," he said. "I doubt she knows how, specifically."
"And the translation?"
"It's coming. Slowly." He shook his head. "And if Anubis is already heading this way, I don't know how much use it'll be."
Silence fell.
Hammond pulled himself up. "We're not defeated yet," he said. "Everyone is looking for solutions. Bring any and all suggestions, no matter how farfetched, to me. In the meantime I'm going to put SG-3 and SG-12 out looking for a new Alpha Site." He stood. "Dismissed."
Jack grimaced as he stood. "This seems eerily familiar."
Daniel looked at him for a moment, then left without answering. Jack considered following, but couldn't see how it would help.
"You think the Jaffa will have anything?" he asked Teal'c.
Teal'c's expression didn't change. "It is possible."
"But you're not banking on it."
"It would be unwise to 'bank' on anything at this time."
"Right." Jack crossed his arms. "You know, if we'd moved faster, we could have evacuated '542."
Teal'c quirked an eyebrow.
"We can't evacuate Earth," Jack said. "Hell or high water, we're staying here."
"I am aware," Teal'c said.
Jack trailed off. (What am I doing?) he wondered. (I'm just talking for the sake of talking. Good god.) "Never mind."
Teal'c bowed out, leaving him in the briefing room alone. For the moment he didn't appreciate these deep-space sensors–'542's array, CAIRN II. He'd almost have preferred not knowing. Almost.
"We're not dead yet," he said to no one, a small act of defiance against the gathering storm. In a day, maybe two, that might not be the case. But he'd be damned if he'd let Anubis win without a fight.