Part I
Chapter 1: Gone Fishing
Now that the dust had settled after the little skirmish with Osiris, Jack
felt he needed a little time out on his own to think things over. There hadn't
really been time to grieve properly since Daniel...
He needed something to soothe his soul, and what could be more relaxing than
sitting under a clear blue sky beside a still lake with snow-capped mountains
reflected in its serene waters? Jack couldn't think of anything off hand. He'd
had a few days leave owing and decided to indulge in his favourite pastime -
fishing.
He'd driven up to a friend's fishing lodge a couple of days previously.
Yesterday, he'd taken the boat out into the centre of the lake, and caught
several fish.
Now, he was enjoying just sitting on the little jetty at the rear of the
property, fishing-rod in hand. It was bliss. Just what he needed. Here was time
enough and space enough to think of his lost colleague... friend; to assimilate
the knowledge that he was no longer there.
He thought fondly of the geek, the scientist who sneezed a lot, the thorn in
his side who'd turned his life around back on Abydos five - six? - years ago.
Yes, they'd been through a hell of a lot together - grown close... If he hadn't
have known otherwise, he could almost have imagined that Daniel was there with
him now.
He was startled by a tug on his line. It wasn't a particularly big fish, but
he enjoyed the challenge of playing it on the line until he could successfully
land the thrashing silver beauty. It was a fair-sized chub which would do very
nicely, together with the one he'd caught earlier, for breakfast.
Jack rose early next morning, the last day of his leave. He showered,
dressed and went into the kitchen. He'd gutted the two chub the previous
evening. Now he laid them on the rack in the grill pan, drizzled on a little
oil and sprinkled them with black pepper.
While he waited for them to cook, he returned into the front bedroom to lay
out his clothes ready for packing up later.
Something caught his eye. There was a figure sitting on the steps outside,
leaning against one of the supports of the porch. For a moment, it flashed into
his mind that it was Daniel come back to see him, but of course Daniel didn't
do fishing.
On closer inspection, the figure, which was facing away from him, looked
like an elderly vagrant. He was wearing a thick dark greatcoat, possibly on top
of one or two more - it was pretty cold at that altitude. Straggly grey hair
showed beneath a battered grey fedora. Jack went to the front door to see what
the fellow was up to.
As the door opened, the vagrant rose to his feet. Something about him seemed
vaguely familiar.
"Yes?" O'Neill asked.
"I've been waiting a long time for this, Jonathan. Sorry," he
said, pulling a gun from inside his greatcoat, "but you're dead..."
He fired twice into Jack's chest, dropping the big man where he stood, and
breathed deeply.
Chapter 2: Jonathan
The vagrant removed Jack's dog tags then quickly searched the body for a
wallet and any other personal items which he stowed in his pocket.
Next, he half-dragged, half-carried O'Neill along to the end of the jetty
and heaved him into the lake. He watched for a few moments as the colonel
drifted away on a current from a stream that entered the lake a little above
the property, then he went into the lodge.
The chub were just beginning to burn, but the stranger had caught them in
time. He pulled off his greatcoats, then hungrily tucked into Jack's breakfast.
Replete, he went into the bedroom where Jack had begun laying out his
clothes, and began a thorough search of his belongings. Satisfied, he found a
pair of scissors and set to, cutting of most of his beard then trimming his
hair back roughly to collar-length.
That done, he went into the bathroom, shaved and showered. Towelling his
hair, he looked in the mirror and smiled at what he saw. A proper hair-cut and
you'd never know the difference.
Back in the bedroom, he slipped into some of Colonel O'Neill's clothes.
Colonel O'Neill was obviously much fitter than he was, but then, Colonel
O'Neill hadn't been living on the breadline for many months, often scavenging
among the trash bins outside food joints for sustenance, so the fit was pretty
good - except for the shoes. They were the same size, though, and would no
doubt adapt themselves to his feet eventually.
Next, he spent a little time, familiarizing himself with Colonel O'Neill's
personal effects. Hm, so the guy called himself Jack, did he? Must
remember that. He practised Jack's signature from his credit cards. Satisfied
that it would pass muster, he rolled up his old clothes along with the hair
clippings and the practice signatures and dumped them in a bin-bag with the
garbage.
The final act was to swill the blood off the porch steps. As he was doing
so, a helicopter buzzed overhead at low altitude and skimmed out along the
lake.
"Jeez, where does a guy have to go to get some peace in this
world?" he muttered, squinting up as it flew overhead in a barrage of
sound.
He went back inside, packed up, just as Jack would have done, and loaded
everything, fishing tackle and all, into the back of Jack's truck. Having
checked that everything at the lodge was as Colonel O'Neill would have left it,
he locked up, slid into the driving seat and drove off.
He stopped at the second small town he came to, had his hair cut properly,
then drove on to Jack's home.
It was late afternoon when he arrived, which gave him several hours to get
to know Colonel Jack O'Neill before turning in and getting some sleep in a
proper bed for the first time in... how long? Was time really relevant in his
case?
Chapter 3: A New Beginning
He awoke early - alert and excited. This was it. Testing time. Make or
break.
He donned a freshly laundered B.D.U. then drove to the Cheyenne Mountain
Complex. As he entered the outer gates, a junior officer saluted. He parked up,
locked the car and ambled over towards the first check point.
Take your time. Act casual. Watch what everyone else does. Piece of cake.
He gave a crooked grin.
Having signed in, he was greeted by a pretty blonde woman in uniform. In the
times that he'd spent watching the complex, he seen her with O'Neill before, so
probably a colleague. That could be useful.
"Morning Colonel," she said, "how was the fishing?
"Fine, - er, Major," he replied, noting the insignia on her
uniform, "I hope I find you well?"
"As well as could be expected, under the circumstances," she
answered, a little less brightly.
Oh. So something going on here that he should be aware of, something to
watch out for. He let her lead the way into the mountain and swipe her card
though the security lock. The door slid open. An elevator? It stopped at
Sub-level 28. Deep...
He wondered what O'Neill did here - clearly something important. Something
classified? He followed the Major along a number of corridors, nodding to
people she acknowledged, and making a mental note of their faces and any names
she happened to drop.
They went into a... briefing room? It had a long table. There was a very
large black guy already seated there. He had a curious gold design on his
forehead. Weird. He was examining a piece of electronic equipment and
acknowledged the new arrivals with a slight smile and a tilt of his head. A
portly man with a bald head came over to greet them - a major general, judging
by the pips.
"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, welcome back," he beamed, "I
hope you're feeling refreshed."
"Yes, Sir," they replied in unison.
They all sat down, the general at the head of the table and 'Colonel
O'Neill' next to the major, opposite the big black fellow.
"Right, people," the general began, "I'd like your opinion on
this device that S.G.-7 brought back yesterday from P7Y 392."
"I have never seen anything quite like it before, General
Hammond," the black guy said, pushing the object across the table.
It looked quite intriguing. The stranger reached out for it but the major's
hand got there first.
"Excuse me," he said, removing it from her grasp with a frown.
She looked a little surprised. Hell, he out-ranked her, didn't he? Even
here?
He turned the device round in his hands. It was made of an iridescent dark
metal and fitted the palm comfortably. There were a number of indentations and
button-like raised areas across the top surface and a depressed square black
panel which could well be some sort of digital display when it was turned on.
There was also a short stubby projection which suggested that you pointed it at
something. He was fascinated. It took him only a few moments to open it up and
take a look inside.
"Hm, interesting. Looks like a turingium power source," he
murmured.
"A what?" asked the major.
She looked genuinely puzzled. So what was she doing on this team? Had she
just got on to it by virtue of her looks? Well, she was quite a tasty-looking
woman.
"I'll need to look at the rest of the works at a high magnification, of
course, to be certain, but I think it could be a matter transmutation
device."
"A what?" the woman asked again. Bimbo!
"It rearranges the atomic structure of whatever you direct the beam
on."
"What do you mean?"
God, but she was dumb!
"Well, I don't know that I can make it much simpler for you than
that," he replied rather tetchily.
"Jack!"
The general sounded a little offended. Oh-oh? Was she his knock-off or
something? He'd better tread a little more carefully. He was letting himself
get carried away. Must be the elation of getting his teeth into something that
was in his field of expertise again. It had been so long...
"Sorry, ma'am," he responded smoothly. "I'll see if I can get
it working and show you."
It wasn't too much of a challenge to power up the device which now sat
purring softly in his left hand. The black panel glowed pale blue. Dark blue
symbols fluttered across it and settled into a steady pattern. Oh-oh. What the
Hell did the read-out mean? It wasn't in any language he'd ever seen before.
"Where did you say this came from, Sir?" he asked the general.
"P7Y 392."
Hm. Must be some sort of map reference.
"Which would be where, Sir?" he risked asking.
"It's people call it Kay Pacha. It's in NGC 5139, omega Cen.
—Sir." the bimbo replied.
"That would be... omega Centauri, Major?"
"Yes, Sir," she replied, giving him a look which suggested that he
was the dumb one.
Omega Centauri? That was over sixteen thousand light years away! So
how in Hell's name had they gotten this little device?!
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