Author's Notes: I've never been able to accept the show's premise that SG-1 worked as a well-oiled team from the very beginning. I think it's more realistic to assume that it would have been a much "bumpier" ride back then when four *very* different individuals were struggling to learn how to work together. So this is my take on that first mission.

This was stupid.

"Again."

So stupid.

"Watch your grip."

So very stupid.

"Hold it steady."

So very very stupid.

"Come on, Daniel, you can do better than that."

Daniel Jackson, multiple Ph.D., bit back his retort and lowered the pistol.

"What's wrong?"

"My hands are sweating again." The archeologist proffered a damp palm for Jack O'Neill's inspection and then wiped first one, then the other, on the sides of his pants.

"Here, give it to me."

O'Neill took the Beretta from him and wiped the grip with a rag. Daniel watched in silence, hoping that Jack would call an end to the torture session for today. Instead, he handed the weapon back to Daniel who took it gingerly, trying to hide his distaste.

Maybe a distraction would work. "Isn't it time for lunch?" Although feeble, it was the first one that came to the archeologist's mind.

The Colonel glanced at his wristwatch and then gave him an assessing eye. "Fifteen more minutes," he decreed. "Then we'll eat. Don't forget, we've still got P.T. this afternoon."

Daniel couldn't keep his shoulders from slumping and O'Neill's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Daniel. We have our first mission off-world tomorrow. I don't expect you to be an expert but I do expect you to be able to handle your weapon, not to mention yourself, properly."

Fifteen more minutes, the archeologist reminded himself. He could do this for fifteen more minutes.

Jack watched Daniel with a critical eye. The younger man's dislike for the exercise was obvious. He handled the pistol tentatively, flinched every time he pulled the trigger, and, as for his aim - hell, he'd probably have better luck just throwing the damn thing at the target.

Apart from simple inexperience, Jack suspected he knew what lay behind the problem. Daniel was not a violent man. His weapons of choice, as O'Neill knew well, were words. Then there was the fact that the target was in the traditional human outline. Pointing a weapon at another human being, even in a simple outline, obviously went against Daniel's very nature.

Jack mentally shook his head even as he continued voicing corrections. Maybe he was making a mistake. He had known going into this that Daniel was a civilian. What he hadn't considered was how much of a civilian the archeologist really was.

Since they had returned from Chulak two weeks ago, Daniel had been undergoing training to equip him to be part of a first-contact unit. Early on, Jack had taken over as the archeologist's primary instructor. It was the only way he could be certain that Daniel was not avoiding his training. Previously, Daniel had repeatedly ducked out of his instruction with other personnel, using one excuse or another. That avoidance technique abruptly ended when the Colonel took over his training.

As he worked with the younger man O'Neill rediscovered levels of patience that he hadn't needed since - since he'd been a father. Sometimes it took all his willpower to resist banging the scientist's head against the nearest handy wall. If he had known going in what an immensely difficult job he was tackling . . . Jack O'Neill had never surrendered to anything or anyone in his life. But in the last couple of weeks he had come damn close.

Everything about the military mind was not only foreign to the younger man but also at odds with Daniel's own philosophical outlook. And despite Jackson's youth he was quietly, unshakably, stubborn about clinging to his own sense of right and wrong.

O'Neill's concerns had deepened during the past week. He'd known from the very beginning that Daniel Jackson was a genius. What he hadn't anticipated was how narrow-minded that genius could be when it came up against the military mentality.

As Jack had quickly discovered, one of the most important aspects of the military was also the most problematic for Daniel. Following orders was not something that came naturally to the kid. Every command immediately brought forth a veritable tidal wave of questions, arguments, and second-guesses. Which was no big deal in the safe confines of the SGC (despite being intensely annoying). But which could get someone killed in a hostile situation.

Jack sighed inwardly. He was trying to walk a fine line between giving Daniel the leeway he needed to learn (albeit slowly and grudgingly) what he needed in order to be an asset and not a hindrance to the team, and flat-out ordering him to comply or leave SG-1.

O'Neill recognized that at least part of his frustration was the result of last week's tragedy. He knew he was still on edge over what had happened to Charlie Kawalsky. Hell, the whole base was still on edge about that. As long as he lived he would never forget the sight of the Gou'ald-infested Major struggling with Teal'c at the edge of the event horizon, or the man falling to the ramp with half of his head gone when the Stargate was shut down. Shut down on Jack O'Neill's order.

They should have started going through the 'gate several days ago. But because of what happened to Kawalsky there had to be an official investigation - days of inquiries going back over every minute since they returned from Chulak, leaving no stone unturned in putting together all the pieces.

Then had come the memorial service three days ago. The sight of Kawalsky's bewildered, grieving parents was another memory Jack didn't think he was going to forget any time soon.

He sighed to himself, offering Daniel a few more admonitions while the fifteen minutes finally wound down.

"Okay, you can - whoa!" O'Neill interrupted himself as Daniel laid down the Beretta and started to move away. "Didn't you forget something?"

It was Daniel's turn to sigh. He picked up the pistol and -

"No!" Lightning-fast, Jack slapped the automatic aside. "Don't ever point a weapon at someone unless you're prepared to pull the trigger. That includes pointing it at yourself!"

The archeologist nodded quickly. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed and angry with himself. Just because he was tired and wanted this session to be over was no excuse for carelessness.

O'Neill glared at the shamefaced young man, wondering again if he was making a mistake. Apprehension joined with his anger and he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

Daniel looked up to see uncertainty in the brown eyes watching him, a surprising emotion for such a normally confident man. Fear shot through him when he guessed what was going through the Colonel's mind. He couldn't change his mind now!

"Jack, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful, I promise."

O'Neill let his hand drop to his side. "You need to be more than careful, Daniel. You need to learn this stuff, no matter how much it goes against your grain. It could save your life some day. And maybe you'll need it to save my life or Teal'c's or Carter's, some day. I need to know I can count on you to do what's necessary for the team."

The archeologist squirmed uncomfortably. Although the words were surprisingly calm, the tone was uncompromising. This wasn't just Jack, the man who was becoming his friend, talking. This was Colonel O'Neill, commanding officer of SG-1 and 2IC of Stargate Command, speaking.

"I know," he muttered, offering a weak, conciliatory smile. "I'm really sorry, Jack."

O'Neill sighed again, feeling his anger, if not his concern, begin to dissolve before the younger man's guilty expression. "Daniel, I believe you can do this if you make up your mind to do it. I need you to promise me you'll try your best."

Daniel shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He knew that Jack had gone out on a limb for him, allowing him to be part of SG-1 even though he was a civilian. And he had heard the muttered remarks behind his back from soldiers thinking O'Neill was crazy for permitting the archeologist to be part of his team. Daniel was sure they hadn't dared to say anything within the Colonel's hearing but they had no problem with letting him overhear their doubts - and worse - of his abilities.

The archeologist had learned long ago that it didn't matter whether a bully was ten years old or thirty years old. The mentality was the same. As he had always done when faced with petty tyrants, he kept his head down and done his best to avoid trouble. He had no intention of telling the older man about the harassment of a few idiots. Jack had enough on his plate. Daniel didn't want to do anything to add to the officer's burdens. Nor did he want to appear to be a weak sister who needed someone else to stand up for him.

"Daniel?"

He started, realizing belatedly that Jack was still standing in front of him, his head cocked as he waited. What had Jack been saying? His mind scrambled hastily for those last words and he swallowed.

"All right, Jack. I promise."

He hated having to promise, hated having to accept these military compromises. But he owed Jack nothing less.

At any rate O'Neill seemed pleased by his response and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I know it's tough for you now but it'll get easier with practice. Let's get some lunch."

Daniel bobbed his head, unable to be happy at the thought of becoming more proficient in military protocol. But that was something he would keep to himself.

Once they had gone through the line in the commissary, O'Neill turned around and spotted a familiar figure.

"Come on, Daniel," he called over his shoulder as he headed for a table on the far side of the large hall, a table that was currently occupied by only one other person. O'Neill dropped his tray on the table. "Hey, Ferretti," he said. "As you were."

"Colonel," the newly-minted Major acknowledged as he settled back into his chair. "Hi'ya, Doc."

Daniel smiled shyly as he sat down beside Jack. "Hi, Ferretti. How are you feeling?"

"Doin' good, thanks. The new C.M.O. just cut me loose. Told me to get something to eat first thing."

The archeologist looked from one soldier to the other. "C.M.O.?" he asked.

Damn, the kid had so much to learn. O'Neill kept his expression noncommittal as he answered. "Chief Medical Officer. It means he's in charge of the infirmary."

Ferretti grinned broadly. "It's not a he, sir."

"What?"

"The new C.M.O.'s a woman." He shook his head. "She's just a little bit of a thing, size-wise, but she's got an attitude at least ten feet tall. I got the idea she's someone you don't wanna mess with if you know what's good for you."

O'Neill shrugged. The medical personnel had been brought in under Hammond's direction. He knew he must have the C.M.O.'s personnel file among the piles of other files on his desk that he hadn't reviewed yet. He'd get to it eventually. For now it was enough to know that she had to be the best for the General to have brought her on board.

Ferretti glanced at Daniel. "How's the soldier life agreeing with you, Doc?"

The archeologist threw O'Neill a quick look who recognized the apprehension in the blue eyes. When Daniel hesitated, Jack said, "He's coming along, Major. No one becomes a soldier overnight but Daniel's doing okay."

Well. Daniel dropped his gaze to hide his surprise. He thought he'd been doing much less than 'okay' and O'Neill's words warmed him. Despite all his fumbling he still had Jack's support.

"Sir," Ferretti re-focused on the Colonel, "I wanted to say thank you."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "For?"

"General Hammond told me that you recommended me for promotion as well as taking over SG-2." Ferretti's smile vanished as his eyes clouded over. "I appreciate your trust. I just wish it hadn't happened this way."

O'Neill simply nodded. He had lost men in battle before, including friends. But never like this. Kawalsky had deserved so much better.

In the sudden silence that fell over the table, Daniel kept his eyes on his plate. He had not known Major Kawalsky well but he had liked him, despite their inauspicious beginning. And he would forever be grateful for the man's willingness to offer him a place on SG-2 when the archeologist had thought he couldn't be part of SG1.

Most painful for Daniel, Kawalsky was one of the few people who had met Sha're and Ska'ara, who had known them as more than mere names. With his death, Daniel's links to his family had decreased by one.

"Daniel."

He started, suddenly aware that Jack was talking to him. By the tone of his voice this wasn't the first time he had called his name.

"Sorry," he said with a weak smile.

Daniel swallowed when Jack exchanged looks with Ferretti. He didn't like the glint in Jack's eye. A moment later he realized why.

"Why don't we see what you remember from our last lesson on hand signals."

For an instant Daniel wanted to bang his head on the table. But he knew there was no escape, not even with a concussion. So he dug down for some of the fortitude that had sustained him for more than 20 years of a willy-nilly existence and managed to smile.

"All right," he said brightly, pleased to see that he had surprised Jack. However, Daniel had the uncomfortable feeling that this was the last time he was going to be pleased about anything. At least for awhile. Especially with P.T. looming on the horizon.

He barely managed to suppress a shudder at the thought.

Captain Samantha Carter moved around her new lab, carefully removing a variety of both ordinary and esoteric items from boxes and placing them on counters or on shelves, as seemed appropriate. As far as the box of books were concerned, she had been promised an actual bookcase which had not yet arrived. So the books would remain in the box for now.

A tiny Dresden clock - once owned by her mother - chimed softly in the corner. Automatically, she glanced at her watch to confirm that it was 2200 hours. Past time for her to go home, she knew, but still she lingered. Her new apartment was filled with boxes that she had barely begun to explore. As chaotic as her lab might be, her apartment was worse.

Normally, she would have thought that two weeks was more than sufficient time to get unpacked and settled in. But with the Gou'alds' daily attacks on the iris the first few days after they returned from Chulak, then the tragedy that had befallen Kawalsky - she bit her lip at the thought - and the resulting official investigation, everything and everyone was behind schedule.

Sam knew that if she went home she wouldn't be able to sleep until she had emptied more boxes. She was tempted to stay on base. But the last thing Colonel O'Neill had said to her several hours ago, as they finished up P.T., was to go home and get a good night's sleep. She had recognized his words for what they were - an order. Staying on base was not, unfortunately, an option.

As it most certainly had not been an option for Daniel Jackson. Sam smiled as she recalled the last time she had seen the archeologist. After a workout with Teal'c, of all people, Daniel had been drenched in perspiration and so exhausted he could barely stand. Even as O'Neill and Teal'c were dragging him off to the showers she had heard his voice raised plaintively . . . something about wanting to finish a translation exercise the Jaffa had given him. Only to have the Colonel override his protests with some cheerful comment about taking the archeologist home to 'enjoy' some sports program as well as a meal that contained at least three of the food groups.

Standing in the center of her cluttered lab, Sam laughed softly to herself. She had heard so many stories about her new C.O. But none of them had prepared her for the mother-hen persona he was exhibiting toward the young archeologist.

And tomorrow they would step through the Stargate onto another world.

The thought came out of nowhere, making her catch her breath.

This was different than Chulak. That had been a desperation-driven search-and-rescue mission with no real understanding of what they were walking into. SG-1 had been a team only for a matter of hours. Daniel had still been calling her Captain-Doctor. Even now, after she had asked him to call her 'Sam', she noticed that he still hesitated every time before saying her name, as if expecting her to withdraw permission.

Sam shook her head at the memory. She trusted that time would take care of the problem. As they became better acquainted she hoped the younger man's innate shyness might begin to ease. Although she had noted his shyness did not extend to either the Colonel or, she shook her head again, Teal'c. The Jaffa was responsible for the loss of Daniel's family yet, somehow, he had apparently found it in his heart to forgive the alien. It still amazed her every time she thought about it.

She had been both surprised and disconcerted when she first learned that the young civilian was going to be part of SG-1 - part of a first-contact team - and her feelings hadn't changed. But the decision wasn't up to Sam. She only hoped Colonel O'Neill knew what he was doing.

Sam had also been surprised by the easy, familiar relationship between him and the young archeologist. O'Neill was renowned not only for being a superb tactician but also for his ruthless brilliance in doing whatever was required in order to complete a mission. People who had spoken of him to her had done so both eagerly yet hesitantly, as if fearful that the Colonel might somehow overhear them and . . . respond negatively.

But she had not seen that fearsome personality yet. She did not doubt it was there, below the surface, but so far what she had seen was a determined, focused, even driven man who, happily, appeared to be largely unburdened by the ultra-macho mentality so prevalent in the military.

And when he was around the archeologist - Sam laughed softly at the thought. When the Colonel was around the younger man she saw an aspect of his personality that none of her informants had ever mentioned. Which was probably, she suspected, because they didn't know about it. Probably no one knew about it.

The battle-hardened veteran of Special Ops - tough, ruthless, feared - was, yes, she had to go back to her original impression, was a full-fledged mother hen around the young civilian.

Sam shook her head, marveling. It was almost an incomprehensible thought but she had been watching it for nearly two weeks and knew it was true. Something about the archeologist had gotten through that tough exterior of the Colonel's and touched something in the older man.

Despite teaching him - or at least trying to teach him - the skills he needed to be part of a first-contact team, the Colonel did not treat Daniel like a soldier. On the contrary. When the rescue team had first returned to Abydos the two men had greeted each other by their first names. They had been 'Jack' and 'Daniel' to each other from the beginning. Even now, as Sam sat in her lab recalling that moment, she felt an echo of her amazement when she had first observed the men together in that room on Abydos.

Abydos. A small thrill shot through her at the thought of the planet. On Abydos she had discovered much more than an unexpectedly informal relationship between Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson. It was an alien - an alien - planet that had provided her with a shock as great as the one she'd felt the day she discovered that a civilian archeologist had managed to unlock the secrets of the Stargate, secrets that she and a team of top scientists had tried in vain to understand for two years.

Sam stared at the box of books without seeing it, her thoughts drifting back to that room containing the cartouche-filled walls on Abydos, where the archeologist had revealed to them the previously unimagined possibilities of the Stargate. In that moment, when Daniel had unintentionally out-thought her in her own field, Sam had realized that she was in the presence of someone whose intellect not only rivaled her own but who was also capable of making intuitive leaps of logic that left her gasping in the dust.

Sam smiled wryly at the memory. No one knew, even she had not realized it until after the fact, but Daniel's innocent exercise of his formidable intellect had stirred her envy.

Remembering now, she felt a twinge of embarrassment. Shame on you, Sam, she scolded herself.

All of her life, her intellect had won her approval and attention. It had always been a measure of achievement, of accomplishment, and she wouldn't have been human if she hadn't also enjoyed the resulting plaudits. But in the young archeologist she had found someone for whom all those things meant little or nothing.

In Daniel, Sam had met someone who loved knowledge for knowledge's sake. There was no pettiness or mean-spiritedness in his nature. He had been as excited by her discoveries regarding the Stargate as by his own.

The archeologist would be good for her, Sam decided. He had already proven that he was more than capable of keeping up with her intellectually. Now, perhaps, as she worked alongside him as part of SG-1, she could learn to be more open-minded to what seemed impossible. The thought made her smile and - despite her reservations about having a civilian on SG-1 - she found herself hoping they might actually, eventually, become friends.

Her thoughts turned to the fourth member of SG-1 and her amusement died. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she did not have the same feeling toward the Jaffa.

No, not 'Jaffa', she reminded herself sternly. Teal'c. Her teammate. Yet she still had difficulty thinking of him as such.

In one sense she understood why the Colonel wanted Teal'c on the team. The alien was an incalculable source of intel. His knowledge of the enemy was priceless. His knowledge of traveling around the galaxy was equally priceless.

Yes, she understood why Colonel O'Neill wanted him on SG-1. And yet . . .

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Teal'c was a genuine alien, a staggering thought in and of itself. He carried within his body the larval form of a parasitic enemy, the likes of which they had never imagined. Although she did her best to hide her feelings of discomfort and a vague revulsion, she was very aware of them every time she was in the Jaffa's presence. She had been relieved - and inwardly dismayed by her relief - that the Colonel continued to pair Daniel with Teal'c during P.T. She hoped she was the only one who knew the truth, that the less interaction she had with the Jaffa, the better she liked it.

Nonetheless . . . she chewed her lip thoughtfully as she recalled those workouts. It had been a revelation watching Teal'c. Despite his size, the Jaffa was amazingly quick and agile, far more so than any human Sam had ever seen. And strong . . . she shifted in her chair, suddenly uncomfortable as she recalled the glimpses she'd seen of the more-than-human strength of the alien.

Yet he also possessed surprising body awareness and self-control, attributes especially noticeable in his workouts with the civilian member of SG-1. With growing surprise, Sam had watched Teal'c's serene persistence as he trained with the archeologist. Daniel was so clearly uncomfortable with the exercises. He was still struggling to master basic moves. All things considered, she thought that the Jaffa exhibited extraordinary patience.

Remembering the two working out against each other, Sam shook her head. Two men - um, one man, one alien - who should have been mortal enemies. Yet with each passing day they seemed increasingly comfortable with each other. It went against everything she knew.

It was all amazing, as Sam thought about the new SG-1. What was it composed of? A highly-decorated, irreverent, definitely not by-the-book officer whose career was, for the most part, hidden behind a 'classified' label. A brilliant, pacifistic-minded civilian archeologist driven by grief and, she suspected, guilt. An alien warrior who, until quite recently, had occupied the position of field general for the most frightening enemy Earth had ever encountered. And a theoretical astrophysicist who, despite also being military, was woefully inexperienced when compared to the likes of Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill.

Sam sighed and stood up. She needed to get out of here before her new C.O. found out she was still on base. As she walked toward the elevator Sam hoped again that Colonel O'Neill knew what he was doing.

Two levels below Sam Carter's lab, Teal'c sat quietly on the floor. He had just moved to his new quarters yesterday and, by his own choice, they were almost as spartan as those of the cell in which he had been held since his arrival at the SGC. Both O'Neill and Daniel Jackson, who had accompanied him in his change of quarters, had been dismayed at its barrenness and offered to embellish it with greater comfort. Which he had refused. The outer trappings of the room did not interest him. It was functional for his needs. That was sufficient.

Though his eyes remained closed he sensed the candles flickering before him, felt the slight warmth radiating from them. The candles had been a gift from Daniel Jackson the previous week after Teal'c had mentioned their usage in kel'no'reem. The Jaffa had not expected such understanding or consideration but he was beginning to realize that such thoughtfulness was part of the young scholar's nature.

Although he had completed his kel'no'reem he continued his meditative position, but now he could allow his thoughts to drift. Except towards Chulak. In that direction lay only pain and guilt and regret. Dwelling on what he had left behind on Chulak served no constructive purpose and did nothing other than weaken his resolve for the new path he had chosen.

Tomorrow he could go through the Chappa'ai to another world, something he had done countless times since entering the service of Apophis. But tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow, for the first time, he would step through the Chappa'ai as part of SG-1, warriors of the Tau'ri.

Despite his self-discipline Teal'c felt his heart quicken slightly at the thought. After two weeks of delay he was about to embark on a journey that would one day, he hoped, result in freedom for all Jaffa as well as the final destruction of the false gods.

His mentor Bra'tac had instilled the dream of freedom in his finest student. But in all their dreams, never had they imagined this path - allied with the Tau'ri of the fabled First World. Teal'c was quietly amused by the thought of his mentor's reaction. For uncounted years the story of the First World had been considered a mere fable, a specious tale - according to Apophis and the other false gods - to be derided and ridiculed.

That day in the prison chamber when Teal'c had seen the alien device on the prisoner's - O'Neill's - wrist, was the day he felt the scales had dropped from his eyes. Now, Teal'c understood why the false gods had worked so hard to deny the stories of the First World. As the Jaffa had told General Hammond, the truth of the First World was the first real proof of the web of lies spun by the false gods for millennia. And if Apophis and his ilk had lied about that most critical beginning, then all of their other claims must immediately become suspect, including - and most damning - their claim to be gods.

Tomorrow, the campaign to end the reign of the Gou'ald would truly begin.

But Teal's anticipation could not still the voice of his newly-freed conscience. Equally as important as his fight to free his fellow Jaffa was the vow he had made to Daniel Jackson to return his family to him.

Over the past two weeks Teal'c had been closely observing the young Tau'ri. What he had seen had surprised and impressed the Jaffa, as well as concerned him.

They had been meeting on a daily basis to exchange knowledge. And Teal'c had been repeatedly amazed, not only by how quickly Daniel Jackson absorbed the language and culture of the Gou'ald, but also by the depths of wisdom exhibited by the unassuming young scholar. But then there were their physical training sessions . . .

He had been silently displeased to discover the lack of self-control among many of the Tau'ri warriors. They were so often concerned with superficial competition, as if lifting a certain amount of weight somehow made them superior to another individual who was unable to lift it.

Teal'c had watched it all without expression but inwardly he wondered more than once at his decision to ally himself with the Tau'ri. Yes, this was the First World, but the behavior of its warriors was proof of how young this world still remained.

He had been encouraged to see that such childish competition did not impress O'Neill, nor had he chosen to be part of it. Indeed, when O'Neill was present such behavior immediately ceased.

The fact that O'Neill had requested that Teal'c work with Daniel Jackson during their physical training sessions was an honor and a responsibility the Jaffa had taken seriously. He had recognized immediately, and without surprise, that the young scholar was not comfortable in the workouts. Daniel Jackson was, after all, a scholar. If they had been on Chulak the young Tau'ri would never have been allowed to participate in dangerous activities. On Chulak someone of Daniel Jackson's abilities would be recognized as a precious resource. He would be revered and protected and treated with the respect that all those possessing great wisdom deserved.

But, as the Jaffa had observed, the Tau'ri were also very young in their lack of appreciation for wisdom.

The thought opened Teal'c's eyes and he stared at the candle before him without seeing it. He recalled several occasions in the last two weeks when he had observed Daniel Jackson being treated with less than respect by other Tau'ri. And he had also observed that O'Neill, preoccupied with his responsibilities, was unaware of the annoyance that Daniel Jackson was subjected to on a daily basis. But Teal'c also suspected that part of his unawareness was due to the fact that the other Tau'ri did not bother the young scholar when the C.O. of SG-1 was present. They were not, however, so concerned to hide their behavior in the Jaffa's presence.

Teal'c realized that his fists were clenched and he deliberately relaxed, but the exercise did not ease his memories. He had been extremely displeased by the treatment of Daniel Jackson and unsurprised by the fact that the scholar had not defended himself. That was not the role of a scholar, despite the efforts O'Neill was putting forth to teach Daniel Jackson.

But now Teal'c had been accepted by the Tau'ri. He was part of SG-1. The thought made him smile deep inside. He had learned to admire and respect Daniel Jackson a great deal during the past two weeks, not merely for his wisdom but for his character, both remarkable in one so young.

It was time that certain Tau'ri learned that mistreatment of the young scholar was an error that would no longer be permitted. It was a lesson that the Jaffa looked forward to teaching.

From Daniel Jackson his thoughts turned to his new team. When he considered O'Neill's skills and experience as a warrior combined with Daniel Jackson's wisdom and Teal'c's own knowledge of the Gou'ald, he could not still a sense of anticipation at the thought of how much damage they might be able to inflict on the false gods.

A nagging thought rose to trouble Teal'c. He was forgetting the fourth member of SG-1. Captain Carter.

A female warrior? Females held several critical roles in Jaffa society but to step outside all of those roles to claim status as a warrior . . . In nearly a century of existence Teal'c had never heard of such a thing. And he was deeply concerned that including a female on SG-1 would prove to be a grave error.

But he trusted O'Neill. And O'Neill had accepted Captain Carter as part of SG-1.

And yet . . . Teal'c had not forgotten the comment O'Neill had made to Captain Carter during one of their physical training sessions - that his superiors had given him no choice in her placement on the team. It had been a statement given with a smile and one that Captain Carter accepted with a smile as she almost managed to knock her C.O. off his feet. Because the Jaffa was still trying to learn his way around the Tau'ri sense of humor he was uncertain of O'Neill's meaning, though he noticed that Captain Carter had not appeared disturbed by the comment.

Had O'Neill been speaking truly? Had his superiors insisted that Captain Carter be a part of SG-1 for reasons the Jaffa did not understand?

Teal'c could not be sure but the unanswered questions deepened his concern.

Yes, he trusted O'Neill. And he could only hope that the decisions of other Tau'ri had not insured SG-1's destruction before it began.

Nearly forty minutes away by car, Jack O'Neill lounged back in his recliner as the game on television finally ended. Damn, that had been a good game. What a battle, all the way to the end of overtime. He yawned cavernously as he squinted at the clock above the fireplace mantel. Yep, definitely time to hit the sack.

He looked at the sofa, the occupant of which had fallen asleep with an archeological magazine on his chest, and sighed. As soon as they'd walked into the house, Daniel had immediately retreated behind one of his new magazines. Jack had recognized the little avoidance maneuver for what it was. The kid was withdrawing into that damn shell in which he habitually lived, except for those times when O'Neill was able to prod him out of it. But considering how badly the archeologist had been sleeping, Jack let it slide tonight, hoping the younger man would eventually fall asleep. Which he did.

O'Neill suspected he knew what was really going on. With their first off-world mission now only hours away, Daniel was coming face to face with his greatest hope that was also his greatest fear - going through the 'gate in the desperate hope of finding Sha're and Ska'ara, knowing all the while the immense odds against him. No wonder the kid wasn't in a chatty mood.

But now it was time to wake up his guest, at least enough for Daniel to stagger off to the spare bedroom where he had been staying since Jack brought him back from Abydos. The archeologist had begun making noises about finding a place of his own but so far O'Neill had managed to dissuade him.

Jack didn't expect to have Daniel as a roommate forever. But during 25 years in the Air Force he had learned to read people very well. And despite the archeologist's insistence that he was 'fine' (he was really beginning to dislike Daniel's use of that word), he recognized that Daniel was still - understandably - emotionally shaky. The nightly bad dreams only underlined that fact. O'Neill had no intention of letting the younger man out from under his watchful eye until he was convinced that Daniel had come to some kind of terms with his situation.

Damn, he hoped he wasn't making a mistake, allowing Jackson to be part of SG-1.

O'Neill understood better than almost anyone Daniel's need to be looking for his family. But the nightmares that continued to trouble the archeologist did not reassure him. Nor did tonight's little subterfuge. The kid's apparent absorption in his archeology magazine was an obvious attempt to avoid conversation.

But he had been pushing Jackson hard the last couple of weeks and figured the younger man needed a night off before their mission.

Their mission.

He really hoped he wasn't making a mistake. Earlier in the week he had toyed with the idea of asking Hammond to delay the mission in order to give Daniel time for a little more training. But he rejected the thought almost immediately. More training wouldn't help the civilian. Well, it would in one sense but not in another, more important sense.

Daniel was desperate to find his family, so desperate that he had agreed to be part of something that Jack strongly suspected the kid would ordinarily never have considered. With each passing day his dislike for all things military was increasingly obvious. Yet he persevered, trying hard to follow Jack's instructions as he slowly and unhappily began to learn the military protocol that would, hopefully, help to keep both him and the rest of SG-1 alive.

Yes, Daniel was learning. Slowly. Unhappily. And very reluctantly. Not exactly the attitude one hoped for in a new teammate.

If not for his two-fold promise to the young scientist that, yes, he could be part of SG-1 and, yes, they would find Jackson's family, Jack would have insisted that Daniel stay earth-side.

O'Neill rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he studied the sleeping figure. From what they had gleaned in their few excursions through the Stargate, plus the intel Teal'c had provided, it was obvious that Daniel's knowledge of ancient Egypt was going to be extremely important to the SGC. Especially in any future encounters with the Gou'ald. It made a hell of a lot more sense for the kid to remain on base, using his expertise on a much broader scale than he could being part of a single team. Not to mention the little fact that Daniel would be much safer staying on base.

Or so Hammond had argued.

Jack really couldn't disagree with his C.O. Nonetheless, he had promised Daniel. Besides, with all that the kid knew, he might be able to give SG-1 some kind of an edge during their travels through the Stargate. Providing, of course, he didn't get himself or his teammates killed first.

A faint sound drew his attention back to the sleeping figure. As he watched, Daniel shifted on the sofa, a frown suddenly appearing on his face. His breathing quickened and he tossed his head back and forth. Knowing what was coming, O'Neill moved forward to put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He gave it a gentle shake as he spoke.

"Daniel, wake up."

Jackson tensed beneath his hand and sucked in a breath. O'Neill gave him a harder shake, raising his voice.

"Come on, Daniel, wake up."

Daniel's entire body jerked convulsively and then dazed blue eyes were looking up at Jack.

"Wha'? Jack?"

"Welcome back to the land of the living, buddy," O'Neill said dryly, releasing his grip.

Daniel blinked and looked around slowly. "What's . . . going on?"

Jack tapped his watch. "Time to hit the sack."

"You woke me up to tell me to go to sleep?"

"In your bed," O'Neill emphasized, suppressing a smile. "That sofa isn't really long enough for a comfortable night's sleep. Trust me, I know."

Daniel sat up, shoving his sliding glasses back on his nose and letting his feet drop to the floor. Jack watched while the kid gathered his scattered wits, only belatedly noticing the magazine now in his lap. Daniel ran his hand over it and cleared his throat.

"I'll go up in a little while," he said casually. "I want to finish this article - "

Jack leaned forward and yanked the magazine out of Daniel's grasp.

"Hey!"

"You can finish reading this later. We have a mission tomorrow and you need to get a good night's sleep."

"I will - "

"Yeah, I know you will 'cause you're going to bed now."

Daniel looked away but not before Jack saw the flicker of pain in his eyes.

"Look, Daniel - "

"Yes, Jack, I'm going to bed."

The archeologist stood up, his features once more an expressionless mask. O'Neill cursed silently and snagged the younger man's arm as he walked by. Daniel stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Jack?"

The hell with dancing around the subject.

"We may not find Sha're and Ska'ara tomorrow," O'Neill said quietly, "but we will. Eventually. You know that, right?"

Daniel's lips tightened briefly, then relaxed, his eyes softening. "I know you will. If not tomorrow than another day."

"Not 'me'. 'We' will find them. Are we clear on that?"

Ah, success. Daniel gave a small smile, brief but genuine.

"Yes, Jack. We're clear."

"Good. Go to bed."

The younger man laughed softly as he headed for the stairs. "You should do the same, Colonel."

"I will in a minute." O'Neill moved slowly toward the kitchen, pausing when Daniel stopped, his hand on the railing, and turned back.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

Daniel hesitated, then said quietly, "Thanks."

"Any time."

That won him another brief smile and then the archeologist started up the stairs.

O'Neill waited until he heard the door to the spare room close, then he allowed his breath to escape in a large sigh. He programmed the coffee maker so that it would be ready in the morning, then headed for his own bed. Hopefully, he'd get some decent sleep himself tonight. Sure as hell, he was going to need it tomorrow.

At 0800 hours the next morning Daniel was standing in the 'gate room with Sam, waiting for Jack and - he hoped - Teal'c. He knew that right now Jack was in Hammond's office and the General was talking to the President. About Teal'c. Surely, there would be no last minute change of plans. Surely, the Jaffa would be accepted now. Without his intervention in stopping the Gou'ald who had invaded Kawalsky when it tried to go back through the Stargate -

Daniel shivered at the possible ramifications. Fortunately, the worst hadn't happened. Except - he closed his eyes at the memory - the worst had happened to Major Kawalsky.

But despite his sorrow over the Major's death, Daniel was thankfully, guiltily, aware of fresh hope. As Captain-Doctor Carter - no, he corrected himself, she had asked him to call her Sam. As Sam had said a few minutes ago, Kawalsky's ability to access the Stargate was proof that the Gou'ald hadn't taken him over completely, proof that something of Kawalsky had remained.

Which meant that his hope for Sha're and Ska'ara now had a solid foundation. They were out there somewhere and they would know that he was looking for them, that he would never stop looking for them.

O'Neill strolled into the 'gate room as if on a casual walk. He nodded at Carter and then met Daniel's anxious eyes.

"Right about now I think the President is chewing on Kennedy's ass," he said, smirking at the thought of the NID jackass getting his just desserts. "Teal'c will be joining us shortly."

He saw Daniel sag in relief. Then Hammond appeared and Jack turned to meet him.

"Colonel O'Neill, is SG-1 ready to ship out?"

"We are, sir."

"Then you have a go for a standard recon mission on P3-575."

"Yes, sir," Jack acknowledged, then straightened when Teal'c entered the room, wearing standard combat gear. He smiled in satisfaction as the Jaffa stopped in front of the General.

"Reporting as ordered," he rumbled.

O'Neill tapped Teal'c's arm. "Sir," he noted, nodding at Hammond.

Teal'c looked at him then back at the General. "Sir," he echoed.

Hammond smiled. "Welcome aboard, son."

Son? Jack's eyebrows arched in pleased surprise as he and Teal'c joined the other members of his team. They stood at the back of the 'gate room, waiting for the Stargate to finish its revolutions and open the universe to them.

Sam could hardly contain her exultation. Finally, finally she was where she belonged. She was about to walk through the Stargate, experience the unbelievable reality of traveling through an artificial wormhole, and end up somewhere else in the galaxy, on an alien world. All within a few seconds. Who knew what kind of advanced technology and science she would discover? Would the 'gate never finish dialing?

Teal'c watched, all the while acutely aware of the tension vibrating through the young scholar standing beside him. The weight of his staff weapon was familiar and reassuring in his hand. There was no way to know what dangers lay before them, no way to know if Sha're or Ska'ara were on the other side of the Chappa'ai. But he had made a vow to Daniel Jackson that he would find the archeologist's family and he intended to keep it, regardless of the cost.

Daniel shifted uneasily, rotating his shoulders against the unaccustomed weight of his backpack, uncomfortably aware of the holstered pistol at his side. Excitement warred with his continuing grief and fear for his family. With all his heart he hoped he would find them on the other side of this wormhole. But his heart also beat faster at the thought of stepping onto an alien world. The possibilities were beyond imagining.

Jack O'Neill watched the 'gate revolve. He appeared completely relaxed, at ease. But someone who knew him well (which included no one at the SGC) would have recognized the tension around his eyes and mouth. His two previous trips through the 'gate had been disasters. One had ended positively, the other negatively. What this third trip would bring - the first time with SG-1 as a complete unit - was anyone's guess.

He felt Daniel stir beside him and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The past two weeks of training - broken up by the tragedy of losing Kawalsky - had only doubled his determination not to let the archeologist out of his sight while they were off-world.

"Chevron Seven locked," he heard the technician call over the loudspeaker.

Before them, the Stargate exploded open in a violently beautiful display of inconceivable power. O'Neill barely kept himself from flinching at the sight. Although he had now seen this display several times, he still marveled at the alien intelligence who had created such an instrument, an instrument that human science said was impossible. Obviously, human science still had a hell of a lot to learn.

"SG-1," Hammond said formally, "you have a go."

O'Neill opened his mouth to order Teal'c to take point, only to catch Carter's eye. In the split-second before he spoke his thoughts raced, lightning-fast. It made sense to send the Jaffa first. He was vastly more experienced than the rest of SG-1 in gate travel, not to mention vastly more experienced with the Gou'ald and their tactics.

But this was SG-1's first mission. Carter was his 2IC. Jack had already witnessed her sensitivity over any perception that she should be treated differently because she was a woman. Jack's only concern about his 2IC was her relative lack of field experience. But he suspected that she wouldn't see it that way.

The MALP had indicated no danger on the other side. Although he knew how quickly things could change in the field, O'Neill decided that this time the risk was acceptable in order to allow a less-experienced soldier to precede one more experienced.

"Carter," he ordered, "take point. Teal'c, you got our six."

He saw the faintest of smiles briefly touch her lips. Then she nodded, hefted her MP-5 and moved up the ramp.

"Daniel," Jack said with a jerk of his head. He followed Carter up the ramp with the archeologist at his side. Behind them he heard the heavy, firm tread of the Jaffa. Together, SG-1 entered the artificial wormhole of the Stargate -

• and seconds later were spat out on a planet halfway across the galaxy.

Ouch! Shit! Sonofabitch!

O'Neill finally rolled to a stop, gasping for breath, his body throbbing from having bounced down a hell of a lot of very hard stone stairs.

This was P3-575? The MALP had advised them that the weather was good here. But his first impression was that they were doing a replay of the mission to Chulak.

Damn, it was cold!

Ignoring his pain and frozen-to-the-bone chill, Jack pushed himself to his knees, his weapon ready as he automatically threat-assessed their new surroundings. He was peripherally aware of Teal'c standing a few feet away, staff weapon ready, doing the same thing.

But there was no immediate sign of threat from the wide-open expanse surrounding them so O'Neill stood up, wincing slightly as his abused body protested. Just in front of him Carter was also rising to her feet. She looked a little shaky and he said,

"Carter? You okay?"

"Yes, sir. Just landed a bit hard."

"Tell me about it." He rubbed his hands briskly, relieved to feel the warmth of a bright sun on his face. This wasn't like Chulak after all. The planet's temperature was probably in the law 80's. Which meant -

"I thought you fixed this problem, Captain," he grumbled.

"Sir?"

"About turning into popsicles every time we go through the Stargate."

"Ah, actually, sir, that problem is one we're still working on."

"Great." He glanced down at the heap sitting near his feet. "Daniel? You in one piece?"

"Uh, yeah."

That was not the strong affirmative Jack wanted to hear but securing their perimeter had to take precedence. "Teal'c," he directed with a wave southward, "check it out. And Carter -" he gestured in the opposite direction and she gave him a brisk nod.

"On it, sir."

As they moved away Jack crouched down and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Talk to me, Daniel."

Daniel raised his head and winced, one hand reaching for his head only to immediately drop back to his side. "I'm fine, Jack."

"I'll be the judge of that." O'Neill gently shoved the archeologist's hand aside, his own fingers exploring the shaggy head until Daniel jerked away.

"Hold still," he ordered, exasperated but unsurprised when the young scientist tried to pull away. "Damn it, Daniel - "

"I'm fine, Jack, really."

"I said hold still. Would you prefer that I have Teal'c sit on you?"

That won Jack a glare and he grinned. "Just stay put for five seconds so I can see for myself that you're okay." Without waiting for a response he carefully checked the tender area on the side of Daniel's head. There was no lump, no abrasion, no blood. But to be safe he put the younger man through a few of the usual tests for concussion, the results of which all supported Daniel's claim to be fine.

"Okay," O'Neill said, rising to his feet and extending his hand. "Lucky you got such a hard head."

Daniel accepted the hand up and immediately forgot about his C.O. as he focused on their surroundings. Jack took another look around to confirm there was no obvious sign of danger, then turned his back on his team to investigate his own little problem.

He winced as he pressed a hand to his right side. Lower ribs, he realized. Must've banged them good rolling down the stone stairs. They hurt but the pain wasn't debilitating. Bruised, not broken, Jack thought with relief. Beginning their first official mission with injuries requiring an immediate return to the SGC would have been a lousy omen for the future. But sore ribs weren't a big deal. There was no need to tell anyone. In the past he had operated successfully in enemy territory with worse injuries.

Satisfied with his decision, O'Neill turned his attention to his surroundings. According to the MALP they were on a plateau that rose nearly a hundred feet above the surface of the planet. Surrounding them was a large, mostly empty expanse of what had been - sometime in the distant past - a huge room. Once upon a time the ground had been covered by a stone floor, a floor that an ancient catastrophe had broken into large and small chunks, which in turn had been worn down by age and weather and now mixed with the dirt and sand.

The Stargate rose high above them. Set on top of a stone platform ten feet above the ground, it could only be accessed by the stone stairs that three-fourths of SG-1 had fallen down when they came through the 'gate. Behind the Stargate rose a badly damaged but still imposing wall that ran at right angles perhaps fifty yards along the borders of the original room and which looked to be about forty feet high, although it had obviously once been much taller.

Jack turned slowly in a circle. He had closely scrutinized the images from the MALP video but those images didn't do justice to the reality. As was clear from the rubble and miscellaneous debris, the huge room in which the Stargate had once stood had been part of an even larger complex - a pyramid. But not one a Gou'ald ship was going to be using any time soon, O'Neill thought with satisfaction.

The Stargate now stood in lonely splendor on its stone platform completely exposed to the elements, except for the partial protection of the damaged wall behind it. Massive remnants of the ceiling and walls that had once surrounded the 'gate now lay scattered over the terrain, much of it half buried by native rock and sand and scrub brush. The rest of the pyramid wasn't in much better shape. Which confirmed SG-1's safety, at least from any Gou'ald landing craft.

O'Neill surveyed the vast, empty plateau that had once been enclosed, impressed in spite of himself. From where he stood, Jack estimated the original room could probably have easily held a couple of football fields side-by-side. And according to Daniel, this room would most likely have been just one of a series of rooms in the larger structure. Even with the evidence before him he couldn't wrap his mind around the size of the pyramid that had once dominated this plateau. The damn Gou'ald always had to have the biggest toys on the block. But clearly someone here hadn't liked that idea.

As Jack's eye followed the rubble that more or less lined the southern edge of the original pyramid, there was no missing the crater. Wanting a better view, he climbed back up the stairs - wincing as his activity pulled at his sore ribs - to stand beside the Stargate. Ah-hah, just what he'd thought. The crater was far too neat and uniform of a hole to be natural. From this vantage point he could also see that the depression was perhaps thirty feet deep and twice that distance wide. Part of the crater lay beyond the plateau on which they currently stood, but it was obvious that enough of the impact had struck the pyramid to turn it into a very large pile of rubble.

O'Neill whistled softly under his breath. Someone - perhaps with toys even bigger than the Gou'ald - hadn't taken kindly to a pyramid being built here. Most likely, they hadn't taken kindly to the Gou'ald, either. Which gave them a lot in common with Jack O'Neill. Damn, but he would like to meet them.

It had been these pictures sent back by the MALP that had caught the SGC's interest. It had seemed simple enough for SG-1's first official mission. Check out the destroyed pyramid and see if there was any evidence of who or what had done it. Anything beyond that would be gravy.

He carefully descended the stone stairs again, keeping a careful eye on his footing until he reached the ground. Glancing around, Jack spotted Teal'c, still moving along the exact line left by the rubble on the southern edge of the plateau, his staff weapon ready for action. He nodded in approval. The Jaffa was not about to assume anything despite the destroyed pyramid.

When he turned his head to check on his 2IC, he could see Carter doing the same assessment as she moved steadily across the plateau, her MP-5 cradled in her arms for instant access. The sight made O'Neill nod again. So far everything was going according to plan.

It suddenly occurred to him that Daniel was being awfully quiet and he turned around, concerned that the archeologist might be hurt worse than had first appeared. His disbelieving eyes observed Daniel two-thirds of the way across the plateau, striding rapidly toward the remnants of the pyramid, a mountain of stone that looked, even from this distance, extremely unstable.

"Daniel!" he bellowed. "Freeze!"

He was peripherally aware of both Carter and Teal'c turning around but Daniel didn't even slow down.

Shit!

Carter and Teal'c were both more than a hundred yards away. Jack was closest, less than forty yards from the archeologist. Pausing only to give his other two teammates a wave to continue with their perimeter check, he immediately hefted his weapon and began double-timing toward the quickly-moving figure.

Despite his speed, O'Neill knew he'd never reach the kid in time. But to his complete amazement Daniel suddenly stopped. For an instant, Jack thought he was about to turn around and come back, properly repentant. But instead he sent his C.O.'s blood pressure shooting up another fifty points by abruptly turning northwest and continuing.

"Jackson!" Damn it to hell, he was going to kill that kid!

Because the archeologist was now moving somewhat parallel to him, the distance between them closed rapidly. And the fact that Daniel had reached the rubble of what had once been another wall slowed him further as he had to pick his way between the massive chunks of stone.

While running toward the younger man O'Neill's eye had automatically calculated a more direct line and a moment later his hand descended on a heedless shoulder and yanked him around. He jerked the archeologist to a stop, a painful jab from his bruised ribs not helping his temper.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled, deliberately leaning into Daniel's personal space until only inches separated him.

The archeologist looked at him with huge eyes. "Wha - what?"

"You were supposed to stay with me until Teal'c and Carter finish checking this place out! What the hell do you think you were doing running off on your own?"

The hand still gripping the archeologist's shoulder gave him an angry shake and irritation joined the surprise in those big blue eyes as he tried to pull free.

"I wasn't - you didn't say anything about staying with you. I just wanted to check out that cave. We're still within the original complex and I - "

For an instant the pulse pounding in Jack's head made it hard to hear Daniel's - not an apology, no sirree, not this boy, just a damned explanation. After the fact, no less. But before he could explode all over the younger man, an unwelcome thought washed through his anger like a cold shower. He *hadn't* ordered Daniel to remain with him. He had simply taken it for granted - and how stupid was that, considering he was dealing with a civilian? - that Jackson would know to stay put until Carter and Teal'c had finished checking out the perimeter.

He had put Daniel through so much training in the last two weeks but he was pretty certain they hadn't touched on this one. Something so basic yet O'Neill had somehow let it slide by.

The realization of his oversight didn't erase his anger but it did re-direct it. To the person who most deserved it. Namely himself.

Carefully, deliberately, O'Neill released his grip on the archeologist and held a finger in the air. "Okay, this is O.T.J. Training Lesson #1. Whenever we gate anywhere you are to stay with me until I say otherwise. You got that?"

"O.T.J.?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Leave it to the kid to fixate on one word and miss what he was saying.

"On-the-job training, Daniel. And unless you give me your word, right now, that you will stay beside me until I give you the all clear, you're going back to the SGC."

The archeologist's mouth opened as indignation darkened his features. "How can you - "

"I'm not hearing what I want to hear," O'Neill interrupted. "So you go back. Now."

"No!"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he faced down his recalcitrant archeologist. "Either you give me your word or you go back now. Ah!" he warned, seeing Daniel's mouth open again. "Your next words will determine whether you go or stay."

He watched Daniel's mouth close and open again a few times and finally the younger man scowled at him. "All right, fine! But I still need to check out the cave."

Jack stared at the archeologist, torn between surprise and irritation. On the one hand, Daniel had given him what he demanded. On the other hand, he made it clear that O'Neill's victory was a flimsy one. Dr. Jackson wanted to study something and - while he was giving his C.O. the opportunity to accompany him - he clearly intended to study it with or without Jack's presence.

Well, O'Neill would just see how well the younger man listened.

"In case you haven't noticed," he said with deliberate sarcasm, "that place is nothing but one honkin' pile of rocks. There's no way in hell I'm letting you near it."

"Not the pyramid," Daniel said impatiently, "the cave. See?" He gestured.

Oh, hell. Now O'Neill saw what the archeologist was talking about. He'd been so taken by the destroyed pyramid that he hadn't noticed the opening in the wall of rock just to the north of the ruined structure.

"Why do you want to go in there?"

"Because the entrance is clearly artificial."

O'Neill glared at the offending gap in the rock. Now that Jackson had pointed it out he could see that the younger man was right. That was no natural crack in the wall. Someone sometime in the past had carved out the opening, all nice and neat.

"Just hold on," he ordered, reaching for his radio. "Carter, report."

Her voice came through in a rush, edged with excitement. "The perimeter is clear, sir. But I've been taking some readings and there appear to be some unusual elements in the soil."

"How unusual?"

"One of the elements is the same mineral that the Stargate is composed of. But there's another element that, well, my equipment can't identify it."

"Is it dangerous?" O'Neill demanded.

"I can't say for sure, sir, but I don't think so. I would like to take some soil samples. Maybe we can figure it out back at the SGC."

The same mineral that was in the Stargate? Here? Damn. His thoughts darted back to that first mission to Abydos and the discovery that Ra was forcing the people to mine the ore containing that mineral, a mineral that they found out later was crucial to Ra's power.

Jack glanced at Daniel to see that the archeologist was watching him, practically twitching with impatience.

"While she's doing that I can take a look at the cave," he suggested hopefully.

Uh-huh. "Stand by, Carter," O'Neill ordered, then said, "Teal'c, how do things look on your side?"

"The south perimeter is also clear," the Jaffa reported. "However, I have reached the edge of the plateau. From here I can observe a village on the surface of this world, approximately three miles from our position."

"What!" Daniel's exclamation almost drowned out the last part of Teal'c's report and O'Neill frowned at the younger man.

"What's it look like?"

"It appears to be a simple village, O'Neill."

Daniel sagged slightly. For an instant he had dared to hope . . . but the odds that Apophis would be here with Sha're in a 'simple' village were astronomical. But while disappointment settled heavily in his stomach, his natural curiosity and professional interest remained. Even if he wasn't going to be reunited with his family on this mission, he still had a job to do.

He gazed at the cave while thinking about the village. He needed to explore them both. Would he be given the time?

Jack considered both Carter's and Teal'c's words. Like Daniel, he strongly doubted Sha're or Ska'ara were here. But that had been only one potential aspect of this mission. He knew that the SGC would love to get its collective hands on more of the Stargate element. It would be easy enough to gather up a few samples. There was just one problem - if there was a village that meant this planet was populated. And those people had the right to decide if they wanted to share the minerals on their planet with anyone else.

He glanced at Daniel who was looking toward the cave again. For the first time he was really glad the kid was on the team. He'd probably be able to communicate with the natives and, Jack suspected, that friendly, unassuming nature would go a lot further than the typical military mentality in this situation.

O'Neill pressed his radio's transmitter. "Carter, hold off on your samples right now. But check around, take some more readings so we have a better idea of what's what. Teal'c, you stick with Carter. Daniel and I are going to check out a cave. We'll meet back at the Stargate in a half-hour."

He barely heard their acknowledgements, distracted by Daniel suddenly standing in front of him. "I'll need much more than a half-hour if I'm going to - "

"Daniel," the Colonel cut in, "that's all you're getting right now. Then we'll head for that village. We need to talk to these folks. Afterwards, if everything works out, both you and Carter may get some more time to play around here."

Daniel hesitated, momentarily torn between both desires. But if it worked out as Jack suggested - he nodded before starting toward the cave again.

O'Neill walked beside him, his eyes darting everywhere. Just because there was no immediate threat didn't mean one wasn't about to pop up from behind the wall. Speaking of the wall . . .

Their walk had brought them to the end of the crumbling barrier and the terrain beyond it suddenly loomed into view.

"Well, well," Jack noted in mild surprise. This world was much less like the endless sands of Abydos than he'd first thought.

Beyond the wall they could now see the rising topography below the plateau. Several miles in the distance the desert gave way to scrub land, which in turn led up into increasingly forested slopes and, faintly visible many miles off, full-fledged mountains.

As Jack studied the landscape, Daniel said, "Definitely more biomes than on Abydos."

O'Neill looked at him. "Say what?"

Daniel returned his skeptical gaze. "Biomes are the major regional groups of distinctive plant and animal life according to the region's physical environment." He waved at the distant view. "The plants and animals you find in a desert are very different from the plants and animals you find out there in the forests and in the mountains."

Jack nodded while making a mental note to self. Don't ask Daniel questions unless he really wanted to know the answers.

As they neared the cave, O'Neill grabbed the archeologist's arm and pulled him to a stop.

"What - "

"Stay here," he ordered. "Until I tell you it's safe to come inside."

"But - "

"Ah!" He waved a finger in the younger man's face. "Any arguments and you're back at the SGC."

Daniel subsided with a frown and O'Neill moved past him, weapon ready as he approached the cave. He couldn't see anything that looked remotely threatening. There was nothing but debris-scattered emptiness surrounding them on three sides with the hill directly in front of them. As he neared the entrance, Jack stopped to carefully survey the opening. It was about six feet high and less than half that wide, the sides and top unnaturally smooth and curved, allowing for easy access. Definitely not natural.

He reached out with his MP-5 until the barrel poked through the opening. Everything looked clear so O'Neill turned on his flashlight and moved warily through the entrance, ducking to avoid banging his head. Inside, he found a large empty room perhaps thirty feet squared. He was impressed at how well the size of the room had been disguised from the outside. But as his flashlight moved around the room it picked up some familiar writings on the wall.

Jack tensed, his hands tightening on his weapon. Damn, the walls looked just like that room on Abydos that Sha're had showed Daniel. Well, not so much writing here but they still bore an uncomfortable resemblance.

"Daniel," he called, his voice echoing in the cavern. "Get in here."

Before he had finished speaking the archeologist was inside. He had thought to turn on his own flashlight and the added light only confirmed O'Neill's initial impressions. Jack got a brief glimpse of Daniel's delighted expression before the kid moved closer to the wall.

"Tell me we're not looking at another history of Ra," Jack demanded, pleased to hear his voice sounding normal, with no trace of the nerves he was suddenly feeling.

"Okay, we're not looking at another history of Ra," Daniel said matter-of-factly.

"You sure?"

"No, I'm not sure, Jack. I need time to translate this, okay?"

O'Neill bit back a snarky response, waited a beat, then said, "Fine, translate. But don't be too long."

He moved away from the archeologist to stand just inside the entrance, preferring the sunshine streaming in to the darkness deeper in the cave. Except all that ancient writing shit seemed to indicate that it was more than just a cave. The realization raised goose bumps along his spine and he cradled his MP-5 a little more tightly. If they had actually stumbled across another room like the hidden room on Abydos - on their first fucking mission - Jack swore he was going to shoot something. Or someone.

After twenty endless minutes, he had had enough.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?" The vague, uninterested response was nothing more than O'Neill had expected. A few long strides brought him up beside the archeologist who was still moving his flashlight slowly over the ancient writing, going back and forth between studying the wall and scribbling in his notebook.

"Now, Daniel."

"Now what?"

"Now you can tell me that this stuff isn't about Ra."

Daniel backed reluctantly away from the wall. "It's not about Ra."

"You're sure?" Jack demanded, thinking that the kid better not be playing with him if he knew what was good for him.

"Yes, I'm sure." The archeologist gestured at the wall. "These are straightforward hieroglyphics thanking the gods for their protection. As for the hieroglyphics on the other walls I'll need time - "

"The gods? As in Ra? Apophis?"

"No gods are mentioned by name," Daniel said, "which is unusual."

Jack didn't care and he breathed a sigh of relief. "What kind of protection are they talking about?"

"From evil - " Daniel took a few steps back and swept his flashlight back and forth over the wall. "That's interesting."

"What?"

"It's getting lighter in here."

"What?" Jack repeated automatically as he looked around.

"Don't you see? The hieroglyphics are easier to read because it's getting lighter in the cave."

The archeologist was right. When O'Neill had first entered the cave it had been pitch black. Now, though it was still dim, the darkness had lightened considerably. And it sure as hell wasn't because of two measly flashlights.

Jack gripped his MP-5 more tightly as he studied their surroundings suspiciously. "Where's the light coming from?" he wondered aloud.

Daniel turned around slowly, his flashlight darting over the walls and ceiling, then said, "I think it's coming from the walls."

"The walls?" But after a close scrutiny of the room Jack had to admit that Daniel was right. The walls and ceiling were all emitting a very faint glow.

"Look," Daniel exclaimed.

O'Neill turned sharply to see - oh, shit. The rear wall - at least part of it - had turned into a doorway. When the fuck had that happened? And how in the hell had he missed it?

"Daniel, no!" Jack grabbed the archeologist as he darted forward and gave him a hard shake. "Just wait one damn minute, you hear me?"

"But Jack - "

"I said no, damn it! Now just stay put!"

He gave Daniel's arm one last shake for emphasis, his irritation ratcheting higher because their brief argument had distracted him. Anything could have happened during that one vulnerable minute and O'Neill had to bite back more angry words as he examined the opening in the wall that - he was sure - hadn't existed a moment ago. Another wary investigation led him into a smaller room. Three of the walls were blank but the fourth contained the same kind of writing as in the larger room. But this room also contained something else.

"Okay," he called and Daniel burst into the room, only to stop in his tracks.

"Surprise," O'Neill said.

Daniel moved forward slowly as he took in the small pedestal that stood in front of the only wall in this smaller room that contained hieroglyphics. But it was the pedestal itself that caught his attention first. It stood roughly waist-high and small rocks - some kind of crystals - adorned the flat surface on top. He gazed at them in fascination then looked up at the wall of hieroglyphics.

"So what is this?" Jack demanded.

The archeologist shook his head slowly. "I have no idea, yet. I need time to translate the hieroglyphics." He glanced around the room. "I think it's getting lighter in here, too."

He was right again and O'Neill's eyes narrowed. "Okay, this is too weird. We're leaving."

"We can't! This is here for a reason, Jack. I need to - " his words caught in his throat as the increasing light picked up something new.

"What the hell?" O'Neill demanded.

Immediately in front of and above the pedestal a new - symbol? - a foot wide and three times that high was now visible on the wall. As he gazed at it, Jack was certain it had nothing to do with hieroglyphics.

He moved up beside the archeologist, his own flashlight focused on the whatever-it-was. "That looks like one honkin' bar code!" he said in disbelief

Daniel tapped a finger against his lips, his eyes alight with a fire that his C.O. was beginning to recognize.

"I have no idea what it is," he admitted, "but it obviously means something. Its placement seems to link it with the pedestal. I don't - damn, what's wrong with me!"

He yanked off his pack and burrowed through it until he emerged holding a small video camera.

Jack straightened as his own internal alarm clock went off. "Time's up," he warned.

Daniel ignored him, too intent on filming the pedestal and wall to even acknowledge that his C.O. had spoken. O'Neill glared at him.

"We have to go, Jackson. If I have to drag you out of here - "

"Just another minute," the archeologist tossed over his shoulder as he raced back toward the main room.

Well, at least he was headed in the right direction. O'Neill grabbed the younger man's backpack and followed him out to the larger chamber, completely unsurprised to see Daniel continuing to film the walls. He was tempted to drag the kid out of here by the scruff of his neck but instead he shook his head and reached for his radio.

"Carter, we're going to be a few minutes late."

He waited for a response but nothing happened. "Carter," he tried again, "respond."

Nothing.

"Teal'c, what's going on?"

The butterflies that had started when Carter didn't initially respond now filled his stomach. He headed for the entrance, snagging one preoccupied archeologist along the way.

"Jack, wait - wait a minute. I just need to - "

O'Neill ignored his pleas and protests, pulling the younger man with him as they burst out of the cave back into the bright sunshine.

"Stay with me, Daniel," he ordered, shoving the backpack at him before trying his radio again. "Carter, Teal'c, respond!"

The archeologist finally realized something had happened and he stopped arguing to watch Jack, furrows creasing his brow as he swung his pack back on his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know!" O'Neill snapped. "But if you move one foot away from me I'll put you in the infirmary. Come on."

What had he missed? Daniel thought back to their time inside the cave but he had been so excited by what they'd found that he couldn't remember what Jack might have said or done in there. Something had happened, something had put Jack on alert. He thought about the pistol strapped to his right leg and swallowed uneasily. Could he really use it?

O'Neill headed directly for the last place he'd seen Carter - at the southwest edge of the plateau, only yards from some massive stone chunks of what remained of the pyramid wall. It had been a half-hour, just one fucking half-hour! The MALP had showed the area was clear. They had checked it out thoroughly and it was all clear. So what in the hell had happened to half his team!

As he neared the large mass of stone behind which Carter and Teal'c had earlier disappeared, O'Neill heard, faint but distinct, the sound of tiny pebbles being dislodged, followed by the very familiar sound of boots scuffing along the ground. He lifted his MP-5 just as his 2IC came into view, Teal'c looming behind her.

"Sir!" she stopped in her tracks as did the Jaffa.

"Damn it, Carter!" he snarled, letting his weapon sag in his arms as he glared at both of them. "Why in the hell didn't you answer when I radioed you?"

Sam looked at him with startled eyes. "You didn't - um, I didn't receive any transmissions from you." She glanced over her shoulder at the Jaffa, who said,

"I did not hear any transmissions either, O'Neill."

"All right, radio check." It only took a moment to discover that all four radios were working perfectly fine and O'Neill gazed around in exasperation.

"So what the hell happened?"

"Maybe the cave blocked the signal," Daniel suggested but Jack shook his head.

"I tried again when we got outside. Still didn't work."

Carter frowned. "I don't understand it, sir. Maybe it's something in the environment . . ." her voice trailed off and she turned quickly to her C.O.

"Sir, it may be that this new element I've discovered in the soil has some kind of dampening properties. Selective dampening properties at that, since my equipment is able to register its existence. I need to take some samples, sir."

O'Neill groaned inwardly. From the beginning he had noted Carter's tendency - which only increased when she was excited - to lapse into all manner of techno-babble and scientific prattle. None of which answered his immediate concern.

"Right now I just want the radios to work," he said flatly. "Let's try a little test."

He ordered Teal'c and Carter to remain where they were while he and Daniel walked back to the Stargate. The radios worked perfectly both then and again when O'Neill moved over to the cave.

"Okay, Carter," he ordered, "you and Teal'c head back the same way you went last time. Radio me at ten yards."

"Yes, sir."

O'Neill waited, glancing at Daniel only to see the archeologist gazing toward the cave. As if sensing his C.O.'s gaze, he looked back with a sheepish smile that made Jack shake his head.

"Sir?"

"You're coming in loud and clear, Captain. Go another ten yards and try again."

"Yes, sir."

This time she didn't radio back and O'Neill's calls to her and Teal'c went unanswered. Once again he headed for the southwest edge of the plateau, only to see his missing teammates appear as he neared it. Sam was smiling.

"Good call, sir. I'm not sure whether it's the element in the soil or something to do with this - " she gestured at the massive mound of broken stone from the pyramid forming a rough, ten-foot high wall only a few yards away from them - "but something is obviously blocking the signal here."

"Fine, just so long as it's not blocked anywhere else."

"Well, sir - "

"Carter," O'Neill interrupted with scant patience, "is this whatever-it-is going to be a problem elsewhere?"

She hesitated, then met his gaze squarely. "I don't know what's causing the problem, sir. If it's this new element, I have no way of knowing, yet, how widespread it may be in the soil. But if something else is blocking the signal - " she gave a small shrug - "there are also a number of variables . . ." she paused to give him a hopeful look.

But Jack wasn't interested in hearing about her exciting variables. "We need to check out the village that Teal'c saw. Providing Daniel's able to get through to the people, we'll see about getting permission for you to take some of their dirt back to the SGC."

"Yes, sir."

Jack debated briefly with himself. This mission had been scheduled as a quick, three-hour, in-and-out deal. But they were going to have to try to make contact with the indigenous people of this planet which meant it was going to take a hell of a lot longer than three hours.

"Carter, contact the SGC. Tell them what we've found and that we're going to need a day or two here."

"Yes, sir."

O'Neill turned to the Jaffa who had been standing quietly on the side. "Teal'c, show me where you spotted that village. Carter, when you're done talking to the SGC, join us."

"Yes, sir."

The Jaffa waited until O'Neill looked back at him before giving a brief nod and walking off.

As they followed him across the plateau Daniel's sense of excitement, which had deflated when Jack dragged him out of the cave, began to grow again. The MALP hadn't given any indication of a village but then again it hadn't picked up the cave, either.

But the archeologist saw an obvious reason for the machine's omission. Teal'c was heading directly toward the opposite end of the plateau and the scrub brush that grew up along the edge there was not only thick but, as they moved closer, it looked quite impenetrable. And the fact that it grew some ten to twenty feet above their heads probably didn't help visibility either. Except, Daniel realized, at the spot where the Jaffa was leading them.

Here there was a gap in the thick brush approximately five feet wide and the reason why was immediately obvious. The remnants of an old path snaked through the gap and down the steep, precipitous side of the plateau, disappearing from view approximately fifteen feet below them.

"Everyone get down," O'Neill said as he sprawled on the edge of the plateau that overlooked the view below them.

Daniel stretched out beside Jack, fumbling momentarily with his glasses and binoculars. When he was finally able to look through the binoculars, what he saw slammed his heart up into his throat.

Teal'c had been correct. There in the distance was a village straight out of ancient Egypt.

Situated in the middle of a sprawling desert, it looked smaller than Daniel knew it was. The buildings were all two or three stories high and though it was impossible to tell for sure at this distance, Daniel had no doubt that they had been built from mud bricks. Just to the north of the village was a small grove of trees. There were a few others, some kind of palm, scattered around the village. But most stunning of all . . . the archeologist swallowed at the sight of the broad river winding its way past on the far side of the village. It wasn't as large as the Nile but - he shook his head, marveling - it clearly served a similar purpose.

The land on both sides of the river had been heavily planted with what he suspected were different grains. And that small grove of trees above the river, just north of the village . . . he couldn't be sure but they might be date palms.

It really was a scene out of ancient Egypt.

"No wall," Jack noted.

Torn from his fascinated scrutiny, Daniel blinked at him. "What?"

"It looks like Abydos but there's no wall around the village."

Leave it to the military man to key in on that little detail. "The architecture and building materials were quite standardized in ancient Egypt," the archeologist explained. "That's why it resembles Abydos. But walls were only built around cities during dangerous times."

O'Neill gazed at the village with narrowed eyes. "So," he drew out the word, "that place down there isn't expecting trouble."

"Apparently not."

The words were almost inaudible as Daniel's attention returned to the scene before them. Jack smiled to himself. Only he knew how concerned he'd been about the archeologist's reaction to finding himself in an environment similar to Abydos. He hadn't been sure how much the kid's memories of his idyllic year there - particularly the brutal way in which it had ended - might interfere with his effectiveness on SG-1.

He knew better than anyone what Daniel was going through now. And he was pleased to see that, so far, the kid was doing okay. Well, except for that not-so-minor matter of ignoring orders when they were in the cave. O'Neill intended to have a long talk with the archeologist over that little point when they returned to Earth.

Jack was also very interested in the intel that Daniel had - unwittingly - just given him. No walled village meant no trouble expected. Apparently, the Gou'ald hadn't bothered this planet in quite a while.

Despite its shaky beginning, the day was definitely looking up.

As he continued to peer through his binoculars, movement on the river caught his attention. What the -

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What, Jack?"

"On the river."

"If you're thinking that's a boat, you're right." There was no missing the amusement in Daniel's voice. "Actually, it's a skiff, probably made from papyrus."

O'Neill watched through his binoculars as the tiny craft moved along the water, helped by -

"It has a sail on it," he noted in amazement.

"Yes, Jack." The amusement in the archeologist's voice was stronger. "The ancient Egyptians are the ones who invented sails."

"I'll be damned."

After looking his fill, O'Neill was ready for the next step. Peering down the remnants of the path, he grimaced at the steep angle. This was not going to be fun. Hearing boot steps behind him he glanced around to see his 2IC approaching, her eyes widening as she took in the distant view below them.

"Carter?"

"We have 24 hours, sir," she reported. "If we need more time, we'll have to advise the SGC then."

O'Neill nodded. "Teal'c," he ordered, "take point. Carter, watch our six."

As he moved cautiously down the trail, Jack immediately felt gravity pulling him forward. He had to lean back to counteract it while still watching where he walked. On either side of the path twigs and scrub branches poked at them and small stones developed the unnerving habit of rolling unexpectedly out from under their boots as they walked.

One large bush had grown up right in the center of a small jog in the trail. It reminded O'Neill of the tumbleweeds in the western deserts but this bush was firmly rooted, which necessitated a cautious skirting around it.

Giving a quick look ahead, Jack was disgruntled to see Teal'c moving steadily down the steep incline. Apparently he wasn't having any trouble with his footing, which Jack felt was distinctly unfair of the Jaffa.

O'Neill found he was often having to catch himself when the uncertain footing betrayed him and sent him sliding down a few feet. From the muttered imprecations behind him, he knew that Daniel and Carter were having the same problem. To add to their aggravation, the scrub vegetation that grew right up to, and in several places, onto, the old trail was blocking any breeze while the sun beat directly down on them. With each careful step, Jack could feel another bead of sweat trickling down his face. The now steady burning from his bruised ribs wasn't helping either.

Damn, but he would be glad to get to the end of this.

Because of the overgrowth and the winding construction of the path itself, it took nearly an hour before they finally reached the bottom of the plateau. O'Neill swallowed a sigh of relief but heard it echoed by the two youngest members of the team. All of them were drenched in sweat and bore numerous small bruises and scratches from the unforgiving brush that they occasionally had to force their way through.

Not to mention that his sore ribs were hurting like hell after their little exercise. Nope, Jack wasn't going to mention that.

"Take five," he ordered. He pulled out his canteen and took a long draught. Not only did he need it but with that river running past the village, lack of water would not be a problem.

Both Daniel and Carter followed his example while Teal'c continued to keep watch.

"Considering how uncared for that path is," Daniel noted, "it's likely that the people of this planet haven't been up to the plateau in a very long time."

Sam glanced back at the path. "Because the pyramid was destroyed?"

"Maybe. But it's clear that the Stargate isn't part of their daily lives."

Jack considered Daniel's words. "So they don't like gate travel?"

The archeologist shrugged. "According to Teal'c, the Stargate is often used for other purposes. For many cultures it has a religious significance."

"But not here."

"It doesn't appear so, no," Daniel acknowledged. Which, although he didn't say so out loud, seemed to support the idea that the culture on this planet had developed apart from the Stargate and, he suspected, the Gou'ald. Which would make it different from Abydos.

One of the things that had most surprised Daniel during his year on Abydos were the differences between the ancient Egypt he knew from his studies and the Abydonian culture. The Abydonians were obviously descended from the same culture. But in several ways it was clear that the Gou'ald had not only contaminated the Abydonians' way of life but also taken it in a different direction. Which might not be the case here.

Daniel knew he was extrapolating from insufficient evidence. But the simple fact that the village they had seen from the plateau was not walled spoke volumes.

"How do you wish to approach, O'Neill?" Teal'c said, still staring at the village.

Jack studied the surrounding terrain. The ground was naturally rocky here, with the addition of mounds of ancient stones scattered around the base of the plateau. He couldn't imagine the power it had taken to turn the pyramid into a massive pile of debris, a good deal of which had ended up here.

"It looks as though a lot of the rubble from the destroyed pyramid landed down here," Sam noted, unconsciously echoing her C.O.'s thoughts.

"Yeah," O'Neill agreed. "But that still only gives us about a mile of cover before it ends. Then there's nothing but wide-open desert so there's no chance for a covert approach. We'll just have to walk in." He glanced around at his team members. "Everyone stay alert," he added, giving Daniel a pointed look. "Teal'c, take point. Carter, you got our six."

He couldn't tell if his look registered for Daniel simply put his canteen away and readjusted his boonie.

They walked in silence for awhile, conserving their energy under the bright sun. Now that they were away from the plateau, Daniel could feel a breeze on his face. He sniffed eagerly, smelling the water from the river and - he sneezed - the growing crops. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out an allergy pill and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with a mouthful of water from his canteen. He didn't really need the pill at this point but he didn't want to be distracted by an allergy attack during a critical moment.

Behind Daniel, Sam was mentally reviewing their discoveries - if she could use that term for the little they had found - on the plateau. Her hands itched at the thought of being able to dig up samples of the soil around the destroyed pyramid. Here was a possible source for the actual crude mineral that the Stargate was made up of. What might she discover when she studied the samples in a laboratory setting? Not to mention the other, unidentifiable element.

Sam had read Colonel O'Neill's report on that first mission to Abydos - both the original report and the recently revised version (she suppressed a smile at the thought) - so many times she had almost memorized it. And then there was the information that Daniel had provided after his return to Earth two weeks ago. It had covered that first mission to Abydos from his perspective, as well as his discovery of what had become known as the cartouche room.

Walking under the increasingly-hot sun, Sam stared at the shaggy head in front of her, suddenly realizing how incomplete the archeologist's report was. She had been so excited to review this new information she had overlooked the fact that, though he had spent a year on Abydos, Daniel had revealed almost nothing in his report of his personal dealings or relationships with the Abydonians.

Can you blame him? her conscience demanded unexpectedly.

She winced inwardly. No, she couldn't blame the civilian. But if he'd been military, it would have been a different story.

But he wasn't military.

Which is exactly what worried her.

And yet . . . she recalled the Colonel's brief comment about Daniel having discovered some hieroglyphics in the cave. There had been no time for the archeologist to read them but he had videotaped them. Perhaps he might eventually discover something helpful to the SGC in the ancient writings.

It was that same expertise that had unlocked the Stargate, her inconvenient conscience reminded Sam. The same expertise that had permitted the team on that first mission to Abydos to communicate with the Abydonians. The same expertise that had provided them with critical intel that allowed the team to defeat Ra and return to Earth.

And it was the same expertise that had provided them with more critical intel on that disastrous mission to Chulak.

The same expertise they were likely to need here and now.

Sam felt torn. She would much prefer that SG-1 be made up of all military personnel. Really, Daniel belonged at the SGC where his expertise would benefit the entire program, not to mention the fact that he'd be much safer there. Yet she could not deny how critical his expertise had already been, mostly off-world.

Did the Air Force have any personnel who were proficient in the ancient Egyptian culture? That would be the best of both worlds. She had no idea if such personnel existed but she suspected that if they did, General Hammond would already have had them assigned to the program.

Sam had never been interested in esoteric knowledge, a category she had always put the "soft" sciences into. But maybe it would be worthwhile to learn . . . She knew how to study. She had a Ph.D. in theoretical astrophysics, after all. How much was really involved in learning about an ancient culture? Maybe, she mused, she might be able to pick up a little something on . . . oh, knowing the language would come in handy.

"Daniel?" she said.

"Yes, Sam?" he responded, half-turning around to look at her and promptly stumbling into the Colonel in front of him.

O'Neill grunted at the impact. "Watch where you're going, Daniel."

"My fault, sir," Carter said apologetically. She waited a beat but when their C.O. didn't respond, she said, "I don't know anything about hieroglyphics, Daniel. Is it very involved?"

"Actually it is, Sam, which is part of the reason why it is such a fascinating language."

Sam had to smile to herself. He sounded so thrilled that she had asked.

"The word 'hieroglyph' comes from the Greek 'hierogluphos' which means 'sacred carving'," Daniel explained. "It's a system of writing used by the ancient Egyptians that combines logographic, syllabic and alphabetic elements."

O'Neill groaned. "Do I have to listen to this?" he asked the world at large.

"I'm answering Sam's question, Jack," Daniel scolded, then continued without missing a beat.

"Basically, hieroglyphs consist of three kinds of characters. There are phonetic characters that include single-consonant characters, like an alphabet. But it also includes many two or three consonant characters. The second kind involve logographs which represent actual words, and the third kind of characters are determinatives. Determinatives indicate the semantic category of a word that's spelled out without indicating its precise meaning."

"For crying out loud, Daniel, if you've got to talk about that crap, speak English!"

"One of the many interesting aspects about hieroglyphics, Sam," Daniel continued obliviously, "is that it evolved with absolutely no vowels. The ancient Egyptians also did not use any form of punctuation or spacing. And hieroglyphics were written both vertically, in rows, as well as horizontally, in columns. All of which makes translating very challenging."

"It sounds very complicated," she said weakly. Actually, it was sounding more and more like ancient cultures should be left in the hands of a certain archeologist where they clearly belonged.

"Oh, it is. There are over seven hundred ancient Egyptian symbols representing actual words as well as thousands of others that were used for individual sounds, some of them quite intricate. And, of course, now that we have the Stargate and are visiting worlds where the ancient Egyptian culture has continued to evolve, that number will undoubtedly increase."

"All right," O'Neill interrupted the flow. "Let's focus here, people. Daniel, take a gander through your binoculars. Do you see anything about the village up ahead that looks out of place?"

Sam couldn't suppress her smile this time, despite feeling a little dazed by the flood of information she'd just received. She hadn't missed the note of desperation in the Colonel's voice. He really wanted to change the subject. As did she, now. Her question about how much was involved in learning an ancient culture had just been answered in spades. If his brief - thanks to the Colonel's interruption - overview of just the language of ancient Egypt had overwhelmed her, how much more overwhelming would she find the culture itself?

Daniel had no idea what his little dissertation had done, Sam thought. She had just gotten a hint of the knowledge contained in the young scientist's shaggy head. Yes, he would be a great resource for the SGC. But for the first time Sam wondered if he might not be an equally valuable resource on SG-1. Mulling over this surprising thought, she was still aware of Daniel's reassurance to the Colonel that, no, Jack, nothing appeared to be out of place.

The temperature continued to rise as they hiked across the desert. Jack sourly eyed the village still some distance away as he wiped his streaming features. "Just what I needed. More sand and sweat. I really hope this isn't all we can expect to find on other worlds."

"I'm sure there's much more to this world than that," Daniel said, his tone mildly scolding. "After all, we are talking about the ancient Egyptians." At least, he caught himself, it appeared that was the culture they were looking at. He couldn't be absolutely sure until he was actually in the village, talking to the people who called this planet home.

O'Neill's foot slipped slightly in the sand and his bruised ribs twinged, sending his irritation soaring. "Yeah. I remember. Slaves to Ra. I wonder who these people are slaves to."

As soon as the words left his mouth Jack knew he was in for it. Daniel took an extra-long stride that brought him up beside his C.O. and stared at him with disbelieving eyes.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

A half-hearted apology was on the tip of O'Neill's tongue but he swallowed it. Despite knowing a lot of his crankiness was the result of sore ribs, he couldn't resist winding up the archeologist a bit. Besides, the irritation might help the younger man forget about his missing family for a little while.

"Come on, Daniel. Even back on Earth the ancient Egyptians are mostly known for the pyramids, right? And now we know the pyramids are just landing strips for some alien parasites. What's left but a lot of godforsaken desert?"

Daniel's mouth opened and closed momentarily in outraged astonishment and Jack had to swallow a grin.

"What's left? What's left?" The archeologist's voice rose as his features flushed with indignation. "How can you say that? We use materials every day that were invented by the ancient Egyptians."

"Such as?"

"How about paper, Jack?" Daniel flung at his clueless C.O. "Is that significant enough for you? And how about what we use to write on paper - black ink? How about the 365-day calendar and leap year? How about one of the earliest systems of writing? How about sails? You saw them being used on that skiff, remember? And how about - "

"Daniel," Sam interrupted, concerned at the young scientist's passion. "I think the Colonel's just - "

"I can speak for myself, Captain," O'Neill cut in. He was secretly entertained by Daniel's voluble defense of his beloved Egypt and more than a little impressed. He'd had no idea that so many of the things the modern world took for granted actually originated in ancient Egypt.

The brief exchange between Carter and their C.O. barely slowed the archeologist. "I'll bet you have no idea how advanced their medicine was either. I'll bet you didn't know that there were 82 medical specialties in ancient Egypt. Teeth were filled, fractures were set, even successful brain surgery was performed. And how do you think - "

"O'Neill."

It was the Jaffa's tone of voice rather than his name that jerked the Colonel's head around. The archeologist was still in full flow and Jack cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Not now," he snapped as he moved up beside Teal'c to meet the approaching individuals just emerging from the small grove of trees. He sensed Daniel coming to stand next to him but his attention remained focused on the new arrivals.

They didn't appear dangerous. There were only two of them and as they came closer O'Neill could see the boys more clearly. One looked to be in his mid-teens and the other no more than ten or twelve. The older boy was holding a bow in one hand but it was pointed at the ground.

Daniel's heart pounded as he watched them approach. Despite their different ages, the boys wore the same kind of garb, a rectangular piece of linen that was wrapped around the hips and tucked under a belt, which reached to the mid-calves and left their upper bodies exposed. How many times had he seen this same kind of clothing represented in ancient drawings? Now here it was in front of him. More evidence that this civilization appeared to mirror ancient Egypt on Earth.

As did the fact that both boys' eyes were outlined in kohl. As did their hair styles. The older boy's hair was cut extremely short while the younger boy's head had been shaved, leaving only a single braided forelock on the side of his head. While such hair styles were a common part of ancient Egyptian fashion, Daniel's stomach still lurched uncomfortably at the sight. It reminded him, all too painfully, of the children on Ra's ship, the children who had been lost when he and Jack blew it up. Something that hadn't occurred to either man until later.

He swallowed hard and shook off the memory. When he took a step forward Jack grabbed his arm.

"Hold it," he snapped.

The archeologist glared at his C.O. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to try to talk to them. That is what you want me to do, isn't it?"

O'Neill eyed the younger man carefully but Jackson looked okay. He released his grip. "Go for it," he invited.

Daniel turned back toward the boys who had stopped several feet away and were now eyeing them with obvious uncertainty warring with curiosity. He smiled and tried a standard greeting, speaking softly in the melodious language he loved.

The older boy brightened instantly and responded. Daniel was immediately aware of the different accent and inflection and as he listened he recognized that some of the grammar and vocabulary was also different. But overall the language was similar to what he had learned on Abydos. Feeling fresh confidence welling up, he launched into some introductions.

Jack gritted his teeth as the pleasant, incomprehensible language flowed around him. Damn, but he hated this, not knowing what was happening, not knowing what was being said, not knowing if his team was in danger. But simultaneously he was hugely relieved that Daniel was with them. Communication with the indigenous population would have been impossible otherwise.

He had previously thought that Daniel's expertise would be useful to the SGC. But now Jack realized as he never had before how critical Daniel's abilities were going to be for SG-1 as they explored the galaxy.

Based in large part on the intel that Teal'c had provided as well as their own brief experience and the fresh evidence now before them, it was clear that the culture of ancient Egypt had spread to a lot of different planets. There was also the little fact that the Gou'ald had usurped that culture for its own. What had started out as an act of compassion, allowing the archeologist to join SG-1, was now looking like a smart tactical move.

The thoughts darted through his mind, lightning-fast, while he waited.

"Daniel," he finally interrupted.

The archeologist threw him a quick, impatient look. "Just a minute."

"No, now. I need to know what's going on."

"Jack - "

"Now!" O'Neill snapped. Couldn't the kid obey one simple order without arguing?

The two boys drew back at his tone and Daniel quickly raised his hands and smiled, speaking in a reassuring tone. After a moment the older one nodded and Jack felt the brief tension subside. Daniel turned to him, his eyes dark with annoyance, but he never dropped his smile.

"It's mostly just been introductions, Jack. This is Anen - " the older boy nodded and smiled back, "and this is Senbi." The younger boy gazed at the strangers wide-eyed but offered a shy smile.

"And I've introduced us to them," Daniel continued.

"Just what exactly have you told them about us?" Jack said, careful to keep his tone casual this time.

"That we're peaceful explorers from a far-away land and that we'd like to become acquainted with them and the others in their village." Daniel's annoyance fell away before his rising excitement. "I asked them the name of this land," he said with shining eyes. "They call it Kemet."

Okay, this was obviously a big deal to Jackson but O'Neill had no idea why. "And that's interesting . . . why?"

"Kemet means black earth, Jack. It's what the ancient Egyptians on Earth called the fertile land around the Nile River. And - " Daniel looked on the verge of hyperventilating - "it's also the name they used to identify their land - ancient Egypt. Do you know what this means?"

Actually, Jack didn't and he didn't intend to be sidetracked. "You can tell me about it later. Right now we need to talk to whoever's in charge of that village so Carter can get her samples and we can find out if they know anything about the Gou'ald." Which didn't seem likely, given what the archeologist had said about the village's lack of defense. But O'Neill needed to be certain.

The excitement in Daniel's eyes dimmed and Jack felt a stab of regret. But they were not here for a vacation. They had work to do.

The archeologist said something to Anen who nodded and gestured toward the village as he answered. While the pair talked, Jack turned to the Jaffa still standing alertly beside him.

"Teal'c," he said quietly, "do you understand what they're saying?"

"I recognize some of the words, O'Neill, but the actual language differs from Gou'ald in several respects."

What he was hearing now sounded, at least to Jack's untrained ear, just like what he had heard spoken on Abydos. Daniel didn't seem to be having trouble understanding or making himself understood. Which, Jack hoped, boded well for the mission.

Finally, the archeologist turned back to his C.O. "They'll go with us to the village and introduce us, but then Anen and - " he smiled at the little boy - "Senbi have to go hunting for the creature that attacked their goats last night."

Anen and Senbi shared a rapid-fire conversation, to which Daniel contributed briefly, then both boys nodded. So did Daniel who looked at Jack again with questioning eyebrows.

"Okay," O'Neill said easily with a quick glance at the rest of his team. "Let's go."

As they walked the boys were now chattering easily with Daniel. Jack had no clue what they were talking about but there was one thing he needed to know before they got to the village.

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?" the archeologist returned without losing his focus on the boys.

"What kind of weapons would you say these folks are likely to have on hand?"

Daniel gave him a quick glance before gazing at the village. "I can't say for sure at this point. Obviously, they use the bow and arrow. The javelin, um, throwing spear, was popular for several thousand years, as was the sling. Until I get a closer look at this culture, I won't know if they've advanced beyond those simple weapons."

"Okay, but if you see anything that looks like it may mean more advanced weaponry, I need to know ASAP."

"All right, Jack."

O'Neill swallowed a smile at the slight edge in the younger man's voice. Nope, this wasn't a vacation. And he wasn't about to let Daniel forget that little fact.

Anyway, the archeologist had given him more intel. Though potentially lethal, primitive weapons concerned him a hell of a lot less than something like Teal'c's staff weapon. So long as they remained alert, O'Neill figured they'd be able to handle whatever they came up against.

The village now loomed directly in front of them. Jack's eyes skimmed over the two and three storied buildings but saw nothing to concern him. Nonetheless . . .

Daniel had moved a step ahead as he talked with the boys. Jack took an extra stride that brought him up directly behind the archeologist and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Daniel, I think you should walk behind me."

Jackson turned his head. "Why? I asked them to bring us here so we can talk to their people. You can't communicate with them, Jack."

O'Neill sighed in exasperation. "We don't know what to expect and you're too exposed - "

"So are Anen and Senbi," Daniel pointed out. "It'll be all right, Jack. Don't worry so much."

O'Neill barely bit back a curse. An oblivious civilian tells him not to worry that they're entering a completely unknown situation? Oh, yeah, that'll fly. Not.

But they were now entering the village and the narrow street did not permit several people to walk abreast. Immediately, the buildings reared up around them and O'Neill hunched his shoulders involuntarily.

"It's so narrow!" Carter exclaimed behind him.

"Yeah," Jack acknowledged, "and the line of sight won't be worth shit. So watch yourself."

"Yes, sir."

Damn, this he remembered from Abydos. Narrow streets, constricted thoroughfares, nondescript mud brick buildings two and three stories tall surrounding them. It was so damn easy to lose your sense of direction, especially when the sun was straight overhead. Overall, very claustrophobic.

But now there was something new to be added to the mix. He could hear voices coming from somewhere in front of them. Still faint at this point but there were definitely people ahead.

Jack realized that his hands were aching from the tight grip he had on his MP-5 and he loosened his hold slightly. Though alert to his surroundings, he was still aware of a growing sense of unreality. The silence, the hot sunlight shimmering down on them, the clear air slightly clouded by dust rising in the slight breeze, the same breeze that was now bringing to him faint smells of . . . onions, he thought, and fish, and . . . water. And green, growing things. And spices he couldn't identify but which added to the overall exotic, foreign feeling.

The hairs on the back of O'Neill's neck prickled slightly as his eyes darted everywhere, but there was nothing to see except characterless buildings that seemed to have been built with absolutely no planning in mind, forcing the narrow streets to constantly twist and turn back on themselves like a damn maze . . .

Sure as hell, this reminded Jack of Abydos. The whole damn village was nothing but a giant rabbit warren.

He glared at the shaggy head an arm's length in front of him. Daniel was still chattering away with the two boys while his head turned constantly, his eyes taking in everything there was to see, which wasn't much at this point. O'Neill just hoped the archeologist remembered to warn him if he saw anything out of the ordinary or potentially dangerous.

The distant voices were getting closer, as were the smells. Much closer, as in just-around-the-corner closer -

They turned the corner and there it was. Daniel smiled in delight.

"What is this?" he heard behind him.

"It's all right, Jack," he hurried to reassure his C.O. "It's the market."

Daniel didn't know where to look first. The street widened a little here, creating a miniature plaza, and the sudden noise and smells burst around SG-1. The market was filled with people who, for a brief, unnerving moment, all appeared identical. The men were all dressed in the same style as Anen and Senbi. The women all wore plain white linen shifts, some short-sleeved, some long-sleeved, some held up by thin straps over the shoulders. As his eyes darted here, there, everywhere, the archeologist felt as if he had fallen into a picture from one of his textbooks on ancient Egypt. The sensation was even stronger here than he had felt on Abydos, for here it appeared - at least initially - that the culture had not been contaminated or distorted by the influence of the Gou'ald.

People were everywhere, some beside the merchandise they were selling and others moving about in search of something to buy. His eye roved swiftly over the merchandise, his nostrils dilating as he caught a whiff of garlic and aromatic spices. He saw baskets of vegetables, fish, figs, pottery, beverages and . . . immediately in front of him Daniel saw a woman holding out a length of linen to a man who - the archeologist's eyes narrowed for a better view. Ah, he was holding a cup containing some kind of grain. Obviously payment for the cloth.

"Jackson," O'Neill growled behind him.

Daniel started, belatedly realizing that the noisy marketplace was quieting as more and more people became aware of SG-1.

"Now would be a good time to talk," Jack said.

He was relieved by the archeologist's prompt nod but when Daniel started forward O'Neill stayed at his side. In the center of the tiny plaza, the archeologist stopped and looked around with a friendly smile as he began speaking.

Jack couldn't begin to guess what the younger man was saying and didn't care, so long as it kept things calm. He was more focused on the people. It hadn't escaped his attention that their initial expressions at seeing SG-1 had been surprise and uncertainty but no real fear. And what he was beginning to see as Daniel kept talking was a lot of curiosity.

If O'Neill had needed confirmation that the Gou'ald hadn't bothered this planet for a very long time, if ever, he now had it. Strangers were obviously not considered dangerous. But then how in the hell had these people, who according to Daniel were descended from the ancient Egyptians on earth, come to be here? If the Gou'ald hadn't brought them here, who had? But if the Gou'ald had brought them here, why had they then left them alone?

Anen was talking to the people now and Jack saw smiles beginning to appear on some faces. The boy then said something to Daniel who nodded. With a quick grin at O'Neill, Anen quickly darted down another narrow street, closely followed by Senbi.

"Daniel?" O'Neill said with forced patience. "A little update would be nice."

"Relax, Jack," the archeologist replied, never losing his smile. "I've just been telling these people the same thing I told Anen. He's gone to get his grandmother. Apparently she's a person of some importance here."

The man who had been bartering with the woman for some linen came a few steps closer and rattled off something at Daniel. The archeologist said something in return and the man turned around, gesturing at the market.

"Daniel?"

"He asked if we are interested in buying - well, actually this works by the barter system. But he asked if we were interested in bartering for anything here. I said that we'd like to look at the merchandise."

"Great," Jack grumbled, nonetheless relieved to see the people beginning to return to their own bartering. He had to keep reminding himself that his feelings of inadequacy because he wasn't in control of the situation weren't important. Sure as hell, it was Abydos all over again.

"Okay," he muttered, "we play nice."

Daniel mentally ran through the contents of his pack. Most of it he was sure his C.O. wouldn't allow him to part with. But he'd packed some handkerchiefs. And he had several chocolate bars. Enough to begin with, if bartering turned out to be necessary as an ice-breaker.

The problem with this thinking was that the archeologist couldn't forget his initial hypothesis. If this culture had evolved undisturbed by outside influences, he didn't want to do anything that might pollute it. He only hoped that SG-1's presence here now wasn't already doing just that.

The team began to wander around the market that had returned to normal, though they were still the object of curious eyes. Sam followed Daniel's example, smiling and nodding, but she was still considering something he'd said earlier. Finally, she had to ask.

"Daniel, you said something about Anen's grandmother being important?"

"That's right."

"I thought women were just possessions in this culture. Like - " she barely caught herself, swallowing Sha're's name so abruptly that she coughed.

Daniel stopped and faced her. "Actually, Sam," he said, "in ancient Egypt, women from all walks of life possessed rights, responsibilities, and privileges that weren't seen anywhere else in the ancient world."

"What?" she exclaimed.

He nodded, his brief smile lingering a bit longer this time. "After the 5th century B.C. Greek historian, Herodotus, visited Egypt he wrote, 'The Egyptians themselves in their manners and customs seem to have reversed the ordinary practices of mankind. For instance, women attend market and are employed in trade, while men stay at home and do the weaving.' That was all very different from what Herodotus was used to seeing in other parts of the ancient world, including his own Greece where the women were restricted to their homes and had virtually no rights or influence in society."

Sam stared at him in bewilderment. The archeologist had just overturned the little bit that she thought she knew about ancient Egypt.

"But you . . . I mean Sha're - " damn, the name slipped out in spite of herself. To her surprise he only nodded.

"Remember, Sam, ancient Egypt spanned millennia. Some cultural attitudes changed over time and, not surprisingly, the customs among royalty differed in several respects from the common people. But in general the ancient Egyptians looked on marriage as a personal matter that required only the consent of both the man and woman. Sometimes a woman's father might be involved to encourage her toward a particular man, but the woman still had a say in the decision."

Daniel noted Sam's shocked expression and Jack's equally astonished look and glanced away. He knew why they were both surprised. Jack hadn't fully understood what had happened on Abydos. He had thought Sha're was simply a gift from the Abydonians to the supposed servant of Ra. Jack had been so wrong.

Shortly after Jack and the others had returned to earth, Sha're had told Daniel that Kasuf had indeed suggested the marriage, but only after seeing his daughter's obvious interest in the archeologist. Sha're had wanted the marriage and, once Daniel had recovered from his bewilderment over all that had happened in those few incredible, turbulent days, so had he.

He had never regretted his decision to remain on Abydos, not once. It had been the sweetest, most joyous year of his life. Which he had destroyed with his own stupid, unforgivable, curiosity.

"Head's up, Daniel."

Jack's quiet words broke through Daniel's misery and yanked him back to the present. He looked up to see Anen, along with his shadow, Senbi, coming toward him through the narrow street. Accompanying them was a woman, Anen's grandmother, no doubt.

She was of average height and as she grew closer, Daniel was able to identify several aspects of her dress and appearance that immediately indicated the woman to be several cuts above the common laborer.

Though wearing the same white shift as other women, it had been enhanced with an intricate black design that had been dyed into the fabric. Then there was her footwear. The archeologist had already noticed that most of the people were barefoot, though some wore simple sandals made of braided papyrus. But Anen's grandmother wore genuine leather sandals, the tops of which glittered with bright gems.

Her dark hair was such a complicated style that Daniel had no doubt it was a wig. And though make-up was part of every ancient Egyptian's fashion, hers was more meticulous and elaborate, evidence that she had time to spend on her appearance.

Unlike the people they had seen so far who wore black kohl, her upper and lower eyelids had been painted in a beautiful shade of green, which, if Daniel remembered correctly, was made from malachite or other copper-based minerals. Her lips and cheeks were warmly red, most likely from a type of clay called red ochre. No doubt about it. This was a woman who had both the time and financial resources to enhance herself to a degree that the other villagers did not.

But more than her dress or make-up, her jewelry confirmed her status. It wasn't only that she wore earrings, bracelets and several rings on her fingers. That wasn't surprising. One of his earliest memories was listening to his parents' discussion of how ancient Egyptians enjoyed wearing jewelry, a fact that his later, more formal, studies had confirmed. Indeed, he had noticed as much among the villagers in the market place.

But the quality of her jewelry was markedly different. The most important difference - it was all gold. And the quality of workmanship was exquisite, with gems of amethysts, garnets, jasper and onyx worked into the designs. Taken together, the colors set off her white shift in a beautiful contrast of blues, greens, browns and gold. But it was the magnificent necklace - an amulet, he corrected himself, after a second look - that caught and held his attention. Gold had been worked into an intricate design that contained several pieces of brilliant blue lapis lazuli. It was an exquisite piece of art that would, he realized ruefully, be considered priceless if it had been discovered on earth.

As she came to a halt in front of him, he caught a whiff of the scented oil on her skin, something flowery and fragrant, more so than the scent of castor oil that most of the other villagers were wearing. Then her dark eyes pierced his and Daniel jerked to attention. Enough focusing on the woman's appearance, he told himself. It was time to make her acquaintance.

The archeologist felt O'Neill stir at his side. Not now, Daniel thought.

"Jack," he said under his breath. "Please don't interrupt. Let me do what you brought me here to do."

Jack held his tongue with an effort. The woman's sharp eyes raked over each of their faces, lingering on O'Neill until Anen said something in her ear. Then her gaze shifted to Daniel and she spoke in a short, sharp tone.

Daniel responded and Jack gritted his teeth as he waited. Watching the archeologist's expression and gestures, he recognized that the younger man was using his "we come in peace" spiel again before introducing the members of his team. The woman spoke again, Daniel answered, then they continued in a rapid-fire, back-and-forth conversation.

Finally, her questions ended and she gazed hard, once again, at each one of them, before barking out one last brief comment as she turned to march away again.

"She wants us to go with her," Daniel said.

"Yeah, I got that. So?"

Daniel winced at his C.O.'s obdurate tone. "Jack, please. Let me do this my way and you'll get your questions answered. I promise."

O'Neill heaved a deep, irritated breath. "Okay. But no way am I eating any alien lizard on this trip."

The archeologist grinned as SG-1 started after the woman. "I don't know, Jack. You may prefer lizard to some of the other possibilities."

"What?" Jack looked at the younger man but Daniel hurried past him.

Shit.

Sam Carter was bored. Bored, bored, bored.

SG-1 had spent the afternoon sitting on the sidelines and watching while Daniel talked to Anen's grandmother, Mehtetweshket, and several other people whom the archeologist had advised Jack were among the leaders in the village.

That was one of only a few bits of information Daniel was able to give them. It was hard to tell who had the most questions, Daniel or the villagers. Either way, the archeologist was given little time to translate his conversations for the rest of his team.

When dusk began to fall and everyone scattered for their evening meal, Daniel started to provide his teammates with the gist of his drawn-out conversations, only to be interrupted by Mehtetweshket who invited them to eat at her home. Which is what they had been doing for the last hour.

Sam sighed to herself. Here she was on an alien planet light-years from Earth, surrounded by aliens she couldn't communicate with, that none of them, except Daniel, could communicate with. Who knew what kind of dangers might be lurking just outside this building?

Nope, recapping their situation wasn't helping. She was definitely bored.

Daniel had told them that their hostess, Mehtetweshket, was a woman of substance and that her home reflected her status. Sam had to take his word for it because to her, it just looked like another one of the mud brick dwellings that lined the narrow streets. Okay, it was bigger than the others they had passed in their walk. But there wasn't much to the place, not to mention that the furniture was sparse - a few low, square, three-legged stools, one high-backed chair, and a couple of small tables.

Narrow windows had been placed high on the walls, to protect the people inside from the heat of the beating sun, Daniel had told her when he noticed her interest. The earthen floor was covered with reed mats and a stairway led up to the flat roof. Which was where she discovered they would eat. The people sat on the ground/roof on reed-stuffed cushions as they ate their meal from a low table.

As the sun set, lamps or torches - she hadn't thought to ask Daniel what they were called - had been lit. She had examined one and discovered that it was a bowl of pottery containing oil and a wick. Simple but effective.

With the coming darkness, the air had begun to cool. The vast sky overhead began to twinkle with countless stars and, she had to admit, made for a magnificent view.

Sam looked around at the people who had joined them for their roof-top meal. According to Daniel, they included Mehtetweshket's three sons (and their families), two daughters (and their families), and assorted members of the extended family.

Several young children played nearby and Sam had been a little nonplussed at first to see they were all naked. Daniel had noticed her expression and explained that the ancient Egyptians had a different attitude toward nudity than modern-day Colorado Springs. With the brief explanation he had given her a rather firm, get-with-the-custom look that made her realize she might be revealing a bit of an attitude.

Feeling herself squelched, Sam had concentrated on her nodding and smiling techniques, only to find herself the object of much interest around the table, especially with the older boys. Apparently teenagers were the same all over the galaxy. Not wanting to fan their curiosity or their libidos further, she had turned her attention to the head of the table where Daniel and their hostess continued their animated conversation. The Colonel sat on the other side of Mehtetweshket and the sight made Sam suppress another smile.

There was no missing the fact that Colonel O'Neill was an alpha male in every sense of the term. Which made it all the more amusing to see him up against an alpha female. The fact that the pair were having to hold their pointed, occasionally acerbic, conversation through Daniel - who was undoubtedly, in his own diplomatic way, softening the more astringent aspects of the dialogue - didn't seem to be slowing either one down.

Though Sam didn't realize it, O'Neill was aware of her boredom. Despite the distractions, he was acutely aware of all of his teammates and how they were responding to the situation. Carter was bored, Teal'c was mostly silent, observing everything, but able to respond a little to the occasional questions asked by their dinner companions. And Daniel . . .

Daniel sat beside their hostess, directly opposite Jack. The archeologist was as animated as O'Neill had ever seen him, his eyes shining with interest as he remained focused on Mehet- what's-her-name. Jack had tried, he'd really tried, to wrap his tongue around her name but in the end settled for calling her 'ma'am'. After a sharp look at him, Daniel had explained - so Jack found out later - to their hostess that 'ma'am' was a title of respect where they came from. She in turn had given the Colonel a stern look, but Jack was pretty sure he'd spotted a glint of humor in her eyes.

Despite being unable to carry on a real conversation, Jack was surprised to realize that he was feeling pretty comfortable, or as comfortable as he would allow himself to get on a mission filled with unknowns. The crowd that had joined them for the meal was outgoing and talkative, happy to chatter in his direction even if all he could do in return was smile and nod. And, he had to admit, the food was very good with no alien lizards in sight.

Jack had been happily astonished to discover that the main drink was beer (another one of the ancient Egyptians' inventions, Daniel had informed him with a bit of a smirk). No, it wasn't Coors, but it wasn't half bad. Granted, they were on a mission so he couldn't drink much. But it still added a very nice, unexpected flavor to the meal.

He glanced at his empty plate with a touch of regret. The food had been good (even apart from the beer), a hell of a lot better than MRE's. Unless his taste buds were fooling him, their meal had included both duck and fish. In another one of Daniel's asides, he had told Jack that the inclusion of so much meat in their meal was another indication of their hostess's well-do-status. There had also been a tasty, spicy, lentil and vegetable stew that reminded him of a few undercover missions in the Middle East during his Special Ops days.

Despite needing to focus on what was going on between Daniel and the ma'am, Jack found his gaze straying to the group of young children playing merrily a few yards away. One of them in particular had caught his attention when they originally arrived.

When they were first ushered inside the house, O'Neill noticed a small garden through a side doorway. Childish shrieks of laughter drifted out to him and the sounds struck him like a punch in the stomach. His first instinct was to run away but instead he forced himself to the doorway where he could look out into the garden.

He was vaguely aware of trees and bushes growing in some kind of formal pattern, but the sight of the kids held all his attention. Two little girls were playing at the far end of the garden but just a few feet away from him a little boy was trying to . . . hell, it looked like he was trying to juggle some small wooden balls.

Jack's heart gave a queer little lurch in his chest. The child looked to be six or seven years old and - really - there was no resemblance to his son. Except for those dark, sparkling eyes . . .

As if feeling his gaze, the boy looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of the stranger. Jack tried to smile but it felt as if his face was frozen.

He didn't realize Daniel had followed him until the younger man came up beside him and said something to the boy. The child responded and the archeologist smiled.

"His name is Kebu," Daniel said.

O'Neill tried another smile and was relieved to feel it spread across his face. Kebu responded with a shy smile of his own and Jack found himself kneeling in front of the child.

"Hi, Kebu. I'm Jack," he said, patting his own chest. Then he gently touched the small balls in the boy's hands. "I like juggling, too."

Daniel said something in that pleasant, incomprehensible language and Kebu's smile widened. He held the balls out to O'Neill in unmistakable invitation. Jack took them and stood up, backing away a few steps before he began juggling them in the air.

Kebu shouted in delight, a huge smile filling his small face. Daniel grinned.

"You do realize, I hope, that you're not getting away without giving him a few lessons."

Sitting on the roof now, half-listening to Daniel's incomprehensible conversation with their hostess while watching Kebu playing with the other children, the memory of those few carefree moments made Jack smile. Even if nothing more came out of this trip, he would have some nice memories to remember their first mission by. But a short while later he discovered that they were going to get something more from their visit to this planet.

Their hostess had offered them sleeping space on her roof and, at Daniel's urging, O'Neill had accepted with thanks. As they lay on top of their sleeping bags, Daniel quietly told them - finally - the results of all of his conversations with the villagers and particularly Mehtetweshket.

"It's amazing, Jack," the archeologist said, his excitement not dimmed by the need to whisper. Do you know what they call the river? Ar. It's the same name that the ancient Egyptians called the Nile River. And there are other villages all along this river, just like in ancient Egypt - "

"Daniel," O'Neill interrupted. "I'm sure it's all amazing but what I need to know right now are just two things."

The archeologist's head bobbed, barely discernible in the darkness. "Yes, yes, I know. I was getting to that, Jack."

"Well, I need you to get to it now."

He heard a long-suffering sigh from the younger man, then Daniel said, "The answer to your first question - whether the Gou'ald have visited this planet - is 'no'. With reservations."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Keep your voice down," Daniel reminded him softly but firmly. "According to their oral history, nothing like the Gou'ald have ever come here. But Mehtetweshket admits that their oral history is not complete. We need to talk to her brother, Netnebu. He can provide us with more concrete information."

"How come she can't and he can?"

"Mehtetweshket is not a scribe, Jack. But Netnebu is. He can read and write so he has access to the written history of this culture."

"Which one was her brother?"

"He wasn't here tonight. Mehtetweshket said he went to the next village up the river in order to prepare some kind of contract. But he'll be back tomorrow morning. We can talk to him then."

Tomorrow morning? Okay, that would work, Jack thought. "What about the samples Carter wants?"

Daniel rubbed his eyes wearily. "Mehtetweshket and the others agreed that we could take some samples back with us."

"Good," Jack nodded as he stretched out on his sleeping bag. "Good job, Daniel."

"Thanks," the archeologist said softly, glad that he'd been able to hide his growing depression from his C.O. He deliberately hadn't mentioned how amused Mehtetweshket had been with his request. These people obviously had no idea of the potential to be found in their soil.

Daniel had barely begun his conversations with the people of this village earlier today when - despite his excitement - he began to feel a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. The people had been quick to confirm that no other 'visitors from far away' - Daniel's carefully chosen figure of speech for the Gou'ald as well as anyone else who may have come through the Stargate - had ever visited.

Despite the fact that this innocent admission only confirmed his initial hypothesis, Daniel had been badly shaken by the inevitable conclusion. This world had not been polluted by outside forces. For millennia - if not longer - it had been left alone to develop naturally, evolving according to its own innate time frame.

What would happen if Sam's suspicions - that this world contained both the mineral from which Stargates were created as well as another intriguing new element - were proved right? Undoubtedly, the SGC would want more. How would that work? What would happen to these people? To this planet?

Even using a best-case scenario, there was no escaping the fact that these people and their culture would be changed by the sudden influx of outsiders into their world. It would be inevitable. The people of Kemet would have no choice in the matter. The thought made Daniel cringe.

That he might be part of an outside force that would forever alter this culture was a sickening thought. Every instinct he possessed urged him to protect this world from such contamination. But how? How could he stop it now? And if he did, somehow, find a way to stop it, the archeologist also knew his future with the SGC would disappear, as would his ability to go through the Stargate in search of his family. But that couldn't happen. He couldn't let that happen.

Daniel's thoughts turned to Abydos and his throat tightened. Abydos had already been contaminated by the Gou'ald so the Abydonians' first contact with the Tau'ri last year had not contained the same sense of immediate danger. Nonetheless, he winced at the thought of the American military setting up some kind of presence on Abydos. He had no doubt that kind of operation would already be in the planning stages except for the little fact that the Abydos Stargate had been buried when Daniel returned to Earth with Jack.

Despite its primitive culture, Abydos possessed something that the military would most certainly want to get its hands on - the mines of Ra. Filled with the element used to create the Stargates as well as being, according to Ra himself, the foundation of his power.

In a little over one earth year, the Abydonians would unbury their Stargate in the hope that Daniel would return with Sha're and Ska'ara. At which time the military would again have access to Abydos and the Stargate element.

Daniel took a deep, shaky breath. He was going to have to come up with some kind of plan before that happened, some way to protect Abydos. But at least he had several months in which to devise a strategy, a luxury he did not have here on Kemet.

The longer Daniel thought of his dilemma, the worse he felt. It didn't help to hear Jack's unconcerned snores practically in his ear. When he lifted his head he could see that Sam, too, was asleep on the other side of Jack. Nearby, the household of Mehtetweshket was also sleeping as everyone relaxed in the cool night, a welcome contrast after the hot day. Only Teal'c, who had insisted on taking first watch, was still awake on the roof.

When he had first asked Jack to be part of SG-1, Daniel had never considered this scenario. But now he had to, not only for this planet but for other planets they would eventually visit.

Daniel closed his eyes but his mind continued to race. Sleep was an impossibility. He was aware when Sam took over the watch, followed eventually by Jack. The archeologist was more than happy to get up when O'Neill finally shook his arm.

"I'm up, Jack," he whispered.

Wrapping his jacket tightly around him, Daniel kept watch over his team and the sleeping inhabitants of the village. When he noticed the first faint streaks of light began to appear in the night sky, he sighed in frustration. The day was almost upon them. He was running out of time.

As sunrise began to lighten the inky blackness of the sky, the indistinct forms of sleeping people spread out on the roof began to stir. Watching, Daniel stretched out his arms and legs and rotated his head to relieve a slightly stiff neck, unhappily aware that he still had no idea how to protect the people and culture of this planet from being contaminated by outsiders. Most immediately, he had no idea how to protect them from being contaminated by Earth's military interests.

"Daniel?"

He glanced down to see Jack looking up at him, one hand gripping the MP-5 that had remained beside him all night.

"Good morning," Daniel responded quietly.

O'Neill shifted in his sleeping bag and barely bit back a groan. What in the hell was so good about it? When he finished his time on guard he'd swallowed a few aspirin before returning to his sleeping bag. That had helped him to finally fall asleep but now . . .

As Jack had known would happen, the muscles and ligaments around his bruised ribs had tightened during the night and any move felt like a bad idea. He thought longingly of a long, hot soak in a tub but quickly shoved it out of his mind. Even if it was possible on this planet, it would be as good as an admission of how lousy he felt. Having made it this far, he was damned if he was going to allow this mission to be cut short because of some sore ribs.

More than anything else, he was pissed with himself. Such a stupid injury was something he would have expected from his civilian archeologist. Even Carter, with her limited field experience, seemed to be a more likely candidate for something like this. But no, it had happened to Colonel Jack O'Neill, C.O. of SG-1, a 25-year Air Force veteran with most of those years spent in Special Ops.

"Jack? Are you all right?"

Oh, hell, even Jackson had picked up on something.

O'Neill reluctantly looked up to find he was now the object of interest of his entire team. Teal'c had left off his kel'no'reem and come over to join them, while Carter had awakened and was now sitting up in her sleeping bag next to him, her eyes dark with concern. On his other side, the archeologist watched him with blue eyes huge with apprehension.

Shit. Jack was going to have to come clean, at least partially, because there was no way in hell he was going to be able to hide his stiffness when he got up.

"I'm okay," he gritted as he forced himself upright.

"Sir - " Carter started.

"I said I'm okay, Captain," O'Neill snapped, fixing her with a sharp eye. "Just a few bruises from those damn stone stairs yesterday."

Sam nodded and visibly relaxed. "I have a few of those myself," she admitted, wincing as she climbed out of her sleeping bag.

Daniel glanced behind him to see that everyone was rising now. From the opposite end of the roof, Mehtetweshket noted his gaze and lifted a hand in acknowledgment. He waved back and she started toward them.

"Jack, Mehtetweshket is coming over," he said quietly, guessing his C.O. would prefer to meet her on his feet.

Sure enough, Jack shoved the top of his sleeping bag away and began to clamber free, slowly, wincing despite himself.

Daniel mentally shook his head, partly in admiration for his C.O.'s stubbornness and partly in reproof. He had no doubt that Jack would give him hell if he tried to hide an injury - just as he had done yesterday when they came through - so unceremoniously - this planet's Stargate. Obviously, O'Neill did not hold himself to the same rules of disclosure. He sensed that the older man was being less than candid about his 'few bruises' and Daniel would have challenged him on it except he had to stand up to meet Mehtetweshket.

She greeted him with a warm smile and morning welcome which the archeologist returned. O'Neill was now standing as well and, despite his unshaven, disheveled appearance, he acknowledged her arrival with a composed nod.

"Morning," Jack said. Without missing a beat, he said to Daniel, "When's her brother coming?"

O'Neill waited while the two shared some more of that incomprehensible language, hoping his discomfort was not obvious. A moment later the archeologist turned back to him.

"Mehtetweshket says that Netnebu should arrive with the sun, which I think means full sunrise, probably within the hour. Meanwhile, Mehtetweshket suggests that we eat and - " Daniel's lips twitched and Jack's eyes narrowed.

"And what, Daniel?"

"It's all right, Jack," Daniel said soothingly. "Among my conversations with the village leaders yesterday, I mentioned that it is our custom to bathe when we rise from sleep and she's offered us the facilities."

"They have bathrooms?" Sam interrupted eagerly, then winced and threw her C.O. an apologetic look. "Sorry, sir."

"Not bathrooms, exactly," Daniel said, the twinkle in his eyes obvious to all of them. "But the well-to-do ancient Egyptians, such as Mehtetweshket, did have bathing facilities."

O'Neill eyed the archeologist with deep suspicion. "How about we take a look at these facilities."

This was easily agreed to and the Colonel had no trouble making up his mind quickly. Though he was impressed by the desire for cleanliness exhibited by this ancient culture, Jack decided to forego the offer of a bath, particularly since, with his aching ribs, it would have required the assistance of a servant. Teal'c also declined the offer but both Sam and Daniel took full advantage of the 'facilities'.

A little more than an hour after waking, they were all enjoying the satisfaction of having a solid breakfast under their belts. Sam and Daniel were also feeling much refreshed after their baths while the heavy-duty pain relievers that O'Neill had taken were finally kicking in. Not to mention the fact that he had stolen a few private moments to wrap up his ribs. Despite the pain and effort it had taken, it had helped a lot. Hell, between that and the pain meds, he was practically feeling normal again.

So when shouts reached them that a boat was arriving, SG-1 was able to hurry toward the river with the rest of the Mehtetweshket's house.

As he walked with his teammates up the slight rise, Daniel felt a pang in his heart. The feel and occasional squeak of sand beneath his feet, the smells of the nearby river, growing crops, exotic spices and the excited chattering by the natives of a language that had died out on Earth eons ago, all intermingled in his thoughts, stirring up old memories of his childhood in Egypt.

Now was not the time for memories, he reminded himself firmly. Ahead, he saw people coming and going from the direction of the river, although the river itself, dipping low between its banks, couldn't be seen at the moment. But Daniel could see the tip of a sail and knew from the size of it that the boat was much larger than a skiff.

The ground ceased rising and at the apex of the low hill, the entire scene below them became visible.

A crowd of people were milling around two large boats that had been drawn near the land, while two smaller skiffs were just casting off. Going fishing, Daniel suspected. He noticed that several members of Mehtetweshket's had congregated around one of the large boats and he pointed.

"That's probably the boat that Mehtetweshket's brother is on. By the way - " he threw a quick glance at his C.O. "Did I mention that Netnebu is Kebu's grandfather?"

O'Neill's eyebrows rose. "Good. Well, providing he's anything like Kebu. Hope the apple didn't fall far from the tree in that family."

As he spoke he started forward, beginning to descend the shallow slope while holding himself with a certain rigidity that Daniel noticed with growing concern. Even with the medication Jack had taken, he still seemed to be experiencing some kind of discomfort. But he knew better than to voice his concern in this very public setting.

As they neared the chattering crowd, Daniel's attention was drawn to a tall figure just stepping away from the boat. He was very lean, the archeologist noted, verging on gauntness, but the deep-set eyes that peered from those sharply accentuated features showed no sign of ill-health. It was impossible to guess how old the man was. His shaven head did not permit any sign of gray hair and his dark features revealed few wrinkles. No, no sign of age, or anything else except a piercing focus that was unnerving in its intensity. As he continued to walk toward them, Daniel was suddenly struck by a calm so absolute as to appear more than human that the man wore around himself like an invisible cloak.

The archeologist had caught some of the chatter from Mehtetweshket's servants and knew for a fact that this man was the one they wanted. As they neared, he felt distracted by a slowly growing sense of anticipation, almost tingling in its intensity.

"That's Netnebu, Jack," he confirmed. "The people have already been telling him about us."

"And he doesn't look like he wants to tell us to get the hell off his planet," Jack said. "So that's a good sign, right?"

Daniel was torn between an uncanny anticipation and amusement at his irreverent C.O. "We're about to find out. Slow down, we don't want to crowd him."

SG-1 stopped several feet away, except for Daniel who took a couple more steps toward the man before he paused.

As Netnebu approached, Daniel's breath came a little faster. If he didn't know better, he would swear he was gazing at a five-thousand year old statute. The sharply-defined features that carried no extra flesh looked as if they had been carved out of the same stone that had created the pyramids. Though deep-set, the dark eyes were still piercing as they fell on him and the archeologist tried to ignore the faint tremor that ran through him under the weight of that dark gaze.

He could see how the merciless sun had burned naturally dark skin to ebony but even this close the scribe appeared ageless. Which only strengthened the uncanny sensations that gripped Daniel.

Daniel stopped a few feet in front of him, lifting one hand in greeting. Netnebu listened as one of his sister's servants said something in his ear, then nodded and waved her away before turning his attention to the archeologist.

Jack sighed internally as he waited, yet again, for his archeologist/linguist to make nice with one of the natives in a language he didn't have a hope of understanding. He reminded himself that, in spite of the delays, they were making progress. SG-1 had received permission to take the soil samples that Carter was drooling over. Now they just needed Mehet-what's-her-name's brother to give them his final pronouncement about what the history of this planet had to say about any past visitation of the Gou'alds, and then SG-1 could be on its way.

O'Neill had a sudden pleasing thought. Hell, maybe this character could even shed some light on who, or what, had destroyed the pyramid on the plateau god-knows how many years ago. That would really be the cherry on top of Carter's cake of soil samples.

Although the mission was taking longer than originally anticipated, Jack had to admit it looked like the extra time was going to be worth it. Not only were they on the verge of having their very first official mission peacefully under their belts, but they were about to come away with some possibly important intel and, maybe, possibly important dirt, if Carter's theories panned out.

What more could a C.O. want?

Even as these pleasing thoughts circled happily through his mind, O'Neill remained alert to his surroundings, particularly the dialogue going on between his archeologist and Mehet-what's-her-name's brother. What the hell was his name? Neten, something. Damn, he was glad Daniel was around to keep track of that shit. Of course, Jack admitted ruefully, if the archeologist hadn't been with them, the C.O. of SG-1 would have made a greater effort to grasp these multi-syllabic names. Fortunately, he hadn't needed to.

He straightened as Daniel turned to him.

"What've you got?" he demanded, surprised and a little suspicious to see that the archeologist's eyes were shining with excitement.

"Jack, their written history goes back over twelve thousand years! Do you know what that means?"

Oh, hell. O'Neill sighed, figuring he owed the kid one. "No, Daniel, what does that mean?"

"It means that this planet's history pre-dates the history of the ancient Egyptian civilization on earth! Even taking into account the Gou'ald involvement on Earth, we're still looking at a time period that only goes back approximately ten thousand years. But this - " his expansive gesture took in the entire planet.

"The civilization of this world is at least two thousand years older!"

Jack tried to listen patiently, wondering if any useful intel was going to come out of Daniel's flood of verbosity. Then his ears perked up when Daniel continued -

"It most likely *wasn't* the Gou'ald who brought these people here, which means someone else - another advanced race - must have lived, or at least visited, Earth during that time."

Another advanced race? Who knew Earth had been such a galactic hot spot? Hell, maybe those characters who foamed at the mouth every time they started talking about aliens crash-landing at Roswell weren't so crazy after all.

O'Neill noticed that Netnebu was standing quietly, watching the excited archeologist with slightly-raised eyebrows, and figured it was time for an interruption.

"I'm sure it's all fascinating," he said loudly, keeping a smile plastered on his face so as not to alarm anyone by his tone. "And you can think as much as you want to about it later. Right now, we're being a little rude, don't you think? Allowing our host to wait around like this."

Daniel stopped in mid-stream and his eyes darted toward the silent figure. In an instant his enthusiasm collapsed and he offered what sounded like an apology to Netnebu. The ancient Egyptian nodded graciously, then asked what was obviously some kind of question. Daniel turned immediately to his C.O. with fresh excitement.

"He has to meet with some people in the village to arbitrate a disagreement over property rights. But he's willing to take us to the shrine if we can go now."

"What shrine?" O'Neill demanded, immediately suspicious. No one had said anything about any shrines.

"The shrine of this village." Daniel's eyes shone with awe. "The shrine dedicated to the local deity. Jack, the religious worship of these people pre-dates the time of pharaohs and the vast temple complexes. During this time the priests were chosen out of the midst of the village to serve the shrine - their version of what would eventually become the temple - as well as the village." He shook his head in amazement. "You have no idea how far back we're looking now at the history of not only ancient Egypt but of Earth's earliest civilizations."

"Yeah, okay," Jack interrupted. "But why do we have to go to this shine?"

"Oh," Daniel said, only slightly deflated by his C.O.'s lack of appreciation. "Well, the shrine is where they keep their written history."

"Can't he - " O'Neill pointed at Netnebu - "just answer our questions?"

Daniel opened his mouth, closed it, then gave Jack a look that was less than admiring. "We're talking about more than twelve thousand years of history here. Netnebu hasn't read it all. But he is willing to allow us to review it, providing the priest agrees."

O'Neill stared at the archeologist in growing horror. "Are you telling me we have to wade through twelve thousand years of history just to get a couple simple questions answered? Hell, we'll be here forever!"

Though the idea didn't seem to faze the archeologist - no surprise there, Jack thought wryly - he did respond in a conciliatory manner.

"No, Jack. The oral history that Mehtetweshket and the others summarized for me yesterday goes back nearly eight thousand years. That means we only need to focus on the earliest four thousand or so years of their written history."

Only four thousand years? The idea still staggered O'Neill. But he felt a little better at the realization that the people had apparently managed to cover all the salient points of eight thousand years with Daniel yesterday. If they could do all that in one afternoon, then Daniel should be able to cover half of that period in a morning, right?

"So," he said briskly, "how much time are we looking at? A couple of hours?"

The archeologist gazed at him with narrowed eyes. "To begin with, maybe. But how long it will actually take for me to review four thousand years of this planet's history, I have no idea."

Damn, that wasn't the response Jack had been hoping for. Nonetheless . . .

He glanced at his watch and turned around to see his 2IC and Teal'c waiting patiently.

"Okay, Daniel and I are going to check out this shrine. Carter, you and Teal'c go get your samples. And stay up there on the plateau unless I tell you otherwise." As soon as they got the information they needed, Jack intended to haul the archeologist, even if kicking and screaming, back to the Stargate. It would save time to have the other two members of his team already up there, waiting for them.

"I'll radio if it looks like we're going to need more time," he continued. "If we're not up there by 1100 hours, I want you by the Stargate to make sure I don't have any trouble getting through to you."

"Yes, sir. Should I contact the SGC?" Sam said.

"No, not yet. Let's wait and see if we need the extra time."

"We will, Jack," Daniel said.

Jack threw him a brief glare. "Let's wait and see. Who knows? Maybe it'll take you less time than you think."

He looked back at Carter in time to see . . . he wasn't sure what it was but a split-second later it was gone and she was looking at him with her usual calm, matter-of-fact expression.

"Go get your samples, Captain," he ordered. "We'll be in touch."

"Yes, sir." She spun around and started off, an expressionless Jaffa at her heels.

When O'Neill glanced at his archeologist he was surprised to see Daniel looking after the pair, a faint frown marring his expression.

"What?" he demanded.

Daniel waited a moment until the pair was out of earshot before turning to O'Neill.

"Jack, are you sure you want to send Teal'c and Captain - um, Sam, off together? From what Teal'c has told me, the Jaffa culture is quite patriarchal. It may be too soon to expect him to recognize that she's a capable soldier in her own right as well as your second-in-command."

O'Neill shook his head. "Teal'c knows that Carter's 2IC of SG-1. He has all the experience in traveling around the galaxy. He's the best one to watch their six. And he knows better than any of us what to expect from the Gou'ald. Those are things Carter needs to learn. Besides, she can teach him a few things herself."

"Like how the military operates?" the archeologist guessed. (I know he needs to learn that, too. But I'm still not sure - "

"SG-1 is a new unit," O'Neill interrupted. "Sure, we're going to have growing pains as we get used to each other. But that's just part of the process. Besides," he added with some emphasis, (Teal'c's not the only one on this team who needs to learn how the American military operates."

Daniel wanted to groan under the pointed look but refrained. O'Neill eyed him for another long minute before gesturing forward.

"Let's go check out your shrine."

The archeologist sighed but turned back to Netnebu. A brief word of explanation made the scribe nod and he gestured toward the village.

Leaving the wide open spaces that surrounded the village for the narrow streets winding through the town raised O'Neill's hackles. He continued to grip his MP-5 tightly as they walked, constantly trying to see around the next corner before they got there. But the constricted and constantly twisting thoroughfares made it an impossible task.

Jack told himself he was being silly. He had been all through this village yesterday, met most of the folks who lived here. And not once had he seen or heard anything to cause him the least concern.

But nonetheless something had tweaked his antennae and he was too experienced to ignore it. Maybe it wasn't anything important. But 'maybe's' were meaningless in an unknown situation. O'Neill remained alert.

Netnebu led them through the entire town, patiently answering Daniel's unending questions as they walked. When they reached the opposite side of the village the buildings came to an abrupt end. Then, after a break of twenty feet, they saw another building, built of mud brick like the others but standing by itself. Jack was no archeologist but he figured that the very isolation of the building was proof it wasn't a regular part of the village.

The moment the archeologist spotted the small mud brick shrine he stopped in his tracks, enthralled. He drank in the sight for a moment before digging his video camera out of his backpack.

"This is amazing, Jack!" he exclaimed as he put the camera to his eye and began filming.

Otherwise occupied, O'Neill barely heard Jackson. He ran through a quick sit-rep of the area, sighing internally when he finished, relieved to find nothing of concern. Okay, he told himself, now he could relax a bit. But Jack's instincts rejected the idea.

He cast yet another wary glance around, sparing an extra few seconds to stare at the peaceful village scene behind them. O'Neill had to make a quick side-step to avoid a preoccupied archeologist who was making a slow circuit of the small shrine, never lowering the video camera from his eye. Jack threw a disparaging look at the unprepossessing little mud brick building. Yeah, it looked old. And small. How in the hell Daniel could be so spellbound by something that looked like it had been erected by a bunch of kids over a weekend was something O'Neill couldn't begin to understand. It had to be one of those archeologist things.

Of greater concern was how such a small structure could possibly house thousands of years of this planet's written history. Might this be some kind of trap?

O'Neill glanced warily at Netnebu who was standing quietly a few feet away, watching the preoccupied archeologist with faint bemusement. Yeah, Jack silently commiserated with the scribe, I know the feeling -

Sensing movement behind him he spun around, his weapon ready.

A single figure stopped a few yards away. A quick scan of the old and unarmed man made O'Neill lower his weapon,

"Sorry about that," he said affably.

"What?" Daniel turned, the hand holding the video camera dropping to his side. His eyes widened as he beheld the new arrival and he didn't need Netnebu's brief introduction to know who it was. With shining eyes, he moved slowly toward the still figure

Jack wasn't a certified genius like two members of his team but it didn't take a genius to figure out that this character must be the priest. Nonetheless, he remained wary, watching as Daniel spoke to the guy, watching the guy responding, watching Netnebu watching everyone.

When the archeologist finally turned to his C.O., he still looked thrilled. "Jack, this is the priest of this shrine and the village. His name is Esamenope." He said something to the priest while he gestured at Jack, who figured he was being introduced.

"Hi'ya," he acknowledged with a brief salute while he groaned inwardly. Didn't any of these guys have simple names? So far the only names he hadn't had trouble with were the kids.

The priest nodded to O'Neill before getting involved in a three-way conversation with Netnebu and Daniel. Jack continued to watch while he readjusted his initial impression of the priest. Despite his frail build and dark, wizened features, the old man had a certain presence that was more formidable than his physical appearance first suggested.

O'Neill chewed his lip reflectively. All things considered, he decided he wouldn't like to get on the bad side of this guy because his gut told him that the priest would be a formidable enemy. Hopefully, getting on his bad side wouldn't become necessary.

When Daniel finally turned to Jack, O'Neill relaxed slightly. The archeologist's beaming expression told him that everything was going according to plan.

"Esamenope has agreed to allow us to look through their written records. But only in situ, we can't remove any materials from the shrine."

Gazing once more at the homely little building, Jack nodded. "No sweat," he agreed. After all, what in the hell could that place hold that anyone would be interested in?

After Daniel thanked Netnebu for the introduction the scribe nodded to each of them before walking away. For their part, Jack and Daniel, preceded by the priest, headed for the shrine. Just inside the opening, Esamenope paused to lift an oil lamp from a niche in the wall. It was already burning and as he moved further into the building, its light shone feebly in the dim space.

"Hell," Jack muttered, "we need more light than this." He had already pulled out his flashlight in expectation of something like this and now he attached it to his vest. But Daniel's hand closed over his, stopping the movement.

"Just a minute, Jack," he said quietly. "Let me get permission first." After a brief moment of conversation, the archeologist released his grip. "Okay, go ahead."

Both he and Jack made sure their flashlights were securely fastened and turned them on. The powerful instruments illuminated the small, square chamber in which they found themselves.

Daniel caught his breath, his disbelieving eyes moving slowly over the altar, for an altar it obviously was. Blocks of stone had been set one on top of another to create an imposing altar that was split into two levels. The lower level held several oil lamps, all burning brightly. But unlike the ones in Mehtetweshket's home, these were not made of pottery. Though the light was not perfect, there was no missing the soft sheen of gold that made up the seven oil lamps. On either end of the upper level more gold sculptures had been placed, tall, narrow, intricately designed, and glittering with countless small, gleaming gems. They reminded Daniel somewhat of over-sized candle holders though they didn't hold any candles.

But after being held in momentary astonishment by the unexpected golden beauty decorating the altar, Daniel's attention turned inexorably to the large piece - no, a tablet - of stone resting on the upper level of the altar, between the two larger candlestick-like gold sculptures. Even from this distance he could see the writing engraved into the tablet, although not what it said. As he moved closer, Esamenope snapped out a sharp command and his tone startled O'Neill.

"Daniel?" he said warningly.

Daniel reassured the priest before saying, "It's okay, Jack. Esamenope was just warning me not to touch anything."

"Why?" O'Neill demanded suspiciously. "Is this stuff booby-trapped?"

The archeologist sighed. "No, Jack. Everything here is sacred, dedicated to the gods. Only the priest can touch the altar."

As he moved closer, he spared a moment to marvel that that there were no 'god' figures represented on the altar. Nor was there any writing on any of the walls of the room. In point of fact, in the entire room only the stone tablet on the top of the altar bore any writing.

"Curiouser and curiouser," he murmured to himself.

A few feet from the structure, he stopped and gripped his flashlight with one hand, pointing it directly at the tablet. His first good view of the writing struck him like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air out of him and leaving him standing on shaking legs.

"Daniel?"

"I'm fine, Jack," he said, a trifle breathlessly. "It's . . . this is . . . amazing. The writing . . . it's unbelievable . . ."

His voice, already softened by astonishment, trailed away and O'Neill shifted impatiently beside the priest.

"Daniel - " he started again but the archeologist cut him off.

"It's proto-hieroglyphics, Jack!"

O'Neill swallowed a growl of frustration. "We really don't have time for another language lesson."

Daniel barely heard him, his whole being caught up in an effort to translate the writing of which there were only a few examples on Earth. His fingers itched to be able to actually touch the tablet, to run over the carved letters and discover, more by touch than formal translation, what the tablet wished to reveal to him.

As he neared the end of the first line his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to think over the sudden pounding of his heart. This was new and yet . . . he'd seen similar language . . . just yesterday, in the cave up on the plateau. Was there a connection? There must be. But if the cave on the plateau was connected to this shrine, then it was logical to assume that there had also been some kind of connection - in some impossibly distant long-ago time - between this village and that cave.

And perhaps with the Stargate as well?

Maybe the Stargate figured more prominently in this people's past then the people themselves realized.

But how could that be? According to everything that Mehtetweshket and the other villagers had told him yesterday, they knew nothing of the Gou'ald. Daniel was convinced they were telling the truth. And to further support their words, he hadn't seen any indication that the Gou'ald had ever been part of this world's history.

Which meant that the people of this world had been brought from Earth by another advanced race. If so, that might explain the differences he was seeing in the religion that was part of the culture, a religion that had diverged from that of ancient Egypt on Earth.

With an effort, Daniel shoved the exciting theories into the recesses of his mind so that he could concentrate on the tablet. It was exceedingly difficult, as he had known it would be the moment he recognized the writing. Although he had seen pictures, during his doctoral work, of the few examples of proto-hieroglyphics that had been discovered, there had been so little of it available that he felt now as if he was doing more guessing than actual translating.

"Jackson!"

Daniel started, realizing belatedly that his C.O. was calling him. He turned around to see one thoroughly annoyed Colonel and grimaced.

"I'm sorry, Jack. It's not easy to read this script."

O'Neill sighed noisily. "That can't be the history of this planet."

"No, no it's not." Daniel glanced back at the tablet, his growing sense of awe making him tremble inwardly. "Based on the bit that I've translated, hopefully correctly, it's a . . . it's a kind of prayer of thanksgiving as well as a memorial to the . . . um, well, I think the word can be translated 'unknown' but I believe it's more likely be to 'unnamed' gods who 'created', or maybe 'established' the people in this world."

Jack was listening with skeptical eyebrows. "Are you telling me this is like the creation story in the Bible?"

"No, not really. Although creation stories are very common among ancient cultures, I don't think that's what we're talking about here. I believe the adjective 'established' makes more sense in context. Unnamed gods established the people here on this planet."

"Not the Gou'ald?"

"Extremely unlikely. The overall tone makes it clear that these are benevolent gods. And the fact that they are unnamed - " Daniel shook his head "- that's unprecedented in ancient Egyptian religion." He hesitated. Should he mention the similar language he had noticed in the cave up on the plateau? Something in the archeologist resisted the idea. No. Not yet.

Feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the decision, Daniel kept his eyes on the altar. Behind him, O'Neill said,

"Does it say anything there about where they keep their records?"

Daniel didn't bother trying to explain that he had barely worked his way through half of the tablet, and that much only because he had done a lot of guessing. His C.O.'s question could be answered quite easily from another direction. He glanced back at the priest. "Esamenope?"

Jack waited with ill-concealed impatience while the archeologist engaged in another round of conversation with the priest. As nice as the local residents had been to his team, he really didn't want to spend another day on this planet. He'd been trying to hold back and let Jackson do this at his own speed, but if they continued at this rate they were never getting out of here.

Daniel turned back to him with a frown. "I'm not sure I understand. He says we need to go down."

O'Neill glanced around, his gaze sweeping the small square room. "Down where?"

But Esamenope was already walking toward the far wall. Jack and Daniel exchanged glances, Daniel's questioning while Jack was dubious, but the latter finally shrugged and followed the elderly priest who had stopped in front of the wall and crouched down.

As he grew closer, Daniel noticed for the first time the faint carving just to the right of the juncture of the two walls, down at knee-level. It was a carving - more of an outline, really - of a bird.

Daniel frowned in incomprehension. A bird? He looked closer and noticed that the wings of the carving appeared to be extended. A bird in flight.

Esamenope said something, too quietly for the archeologist to catch, then with one finger he touched the carved head, then the outstretched wing, then brushed his hand across the entire carving.

O'Neill's hands tightened automatically around his weapon as, with a long, drawn-out, rumble-grumble, a previously unnoticed slab set in the wall slowly dragged back, disappearing behind the main wall and revealing an opening perhaps five feet tall and two feet wide.

"I'll be damned," Jack marveled. "Technology way back when, huh?"

Daniel stared in astonishment. He didn't recall anything like this from his textbooks. Granted, the light wasn't the best inside the shrine but the fact that they hadn't seen anything to indicate this possibility - no imperfections in the wall, no signs of disturbance on the floor . . .

"Amazing," he murmured. Though he didn't say so out loud, he strongly doubted that the ancient Egyptians had created this hidden doorway. Once again, his thoughts turned to the cave on the plateau and once again he squelched them.

Esamenope lifted the small oil lamp in his hand as if gesturing and Daniel nodded. The priest nodded in return and disappeared through the opening.

"Jack, I think - "

But O'Neill had already figured it out. Double-checking that his own flashlight still had plenty of power, he followed the priest through the makeshift door into the darkness beyond, hearing Daniel's boot steps behind him.

A long series of stairs took them some thirty feet underground. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they found a short hall way, at the end of which Esamenope waited beside another opening, this one larger than the one up in the shrine.

As O'Neill reached him, the priest drew back so that they could go on. Warily, gripping his weapon firmly, Jack took a couple strides into the next room before stopping in his tracks.

They were standing at the entrance of a vast cavern that stretched away from them in every direction, disappearing finally into darkness. The dim light made details impossible, except for the most important detail. Row upon countless row of clay pots filled the space, each one approximately three feet high and perhaps two feet in diameter.

Jack stared in dumb horror at what looked like a million large clay pots. He knew, he just knew, this was where twelve thousand years of this planet's written history was kept. All in those fucking, never-ending rows of pots.

He glanced at the archeologist and then closed his eyes in pain, because Daniel looked like he was gazing at the Promised Land.

Oh, shit. They were going to be stuck here for the remainder of Jack's life.

Time disappeared while Daniel stared at this priceless evidence of a planet's history. Finally, his absorption was interrupted by a query from Esamenope. The archeologist spoke quickly to ally the priest's concern.

O'Neill glanced warily at the priest. He might not be able to speak the lingo but he had no difficulty recognizing the apprehension in the old man's voice. "Problem?"

"No, Jack. Esamenope is entrusting us with his people's history based upon the assurances of Netnebu and Mehtetweshket that we will not betray his trust."

O'Neill's eyebrows rose. He hadn't thought about how easy all this had come to them, but then he hadn't realized the influence of Mehet-what's-her-name and her brother. SG-1 had really lucked out, he realized, running into that woman first thing.

"And you said?"

"I told Esamenope that we were honored by his trust and would not betray it, of course."

Jack suppressed a smile at the 'of course' that Daniel tacked onto the end of his statement. The innocence of the younger man still amazed him. But he was glad that, at least this time, he could support Daniel.

"We'll keep your secret," he gravely assured the old man. Though they couldn't speak each other's language, O'Neill hoped the priest recognized his sincerity.

Apparently something got through for the old man nodded and began to move along the near wall, using his oil lamp to light other lamps placed in a series of niches that ran along the wall.

Jack watched him for a moment before glancing at the archeologist. Daniel was still gazing around the huge cavern, his mouth open slightly. Despite the dim light Jack couldn't miss his entranced expression.

"Do you feel that, Jack?" he murmured.

"Feel what?"

"It's perfectly dry in here. No humidity. Even though we're in an underground cavern with temperatures cooler than normal, there's no humidity."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"I expect that these clay pots are filled with papyri. And as long as it's in a dry climate, papyrus is perfectly stable. It won't deteriorate."

O'Neill frowned. Something made from a plant could last indefinitely? "You sure about that?" he had to ask.

Daniel nodded in a distracted fashion. "Papyrus is formed out of highly rot-resistant cellulose. In a humid climate molds will develop and destroy it. But not in a dry climate. Not here."

He stared up at the ceiling but their flashlights weren't powerful enough to piece the darkness above them. A similar sweep of their lights around the cavern indicated the same problem. They simply didn't have sufficient equipment to light this vast space properly. But even if they had brought such equipment, Daniel wasn't sure that he would have used it. The intensity of such powerful lights might be dangerous to these ancient artifacts. Nonetheless . . .

"I wonder how on earth they managed to do it? Something must be regulating the humidity but I don't see anything - "

"Yeah, well, you can wonder about that back at the SGC," Jack said. "We came down here for a reason, remember? So where do we start?"

He could see how thrilled the younger man was over all this and regretted having to play the heavy again, but he had no alternative. They were on the clock here and they didn't have time for sight-seeing.

O'Neill was relieved by Daniel's immediate, albeit reluctant, acknowledgment. "Esamenope says if we want to know the beginning of his people's history, we have to go to the first pot." He gestured across the vast array toward the opposite end of the cavern, lost now in darkness. "That way."

Jack followed the gesture with fresh dismay but kept his response to one word. "Sweet," he groaned.

But it turned out not to be as bad as he first feared. The darkness played havoc with their senses but thanks to the lights that Esamenope had lit the length of two walls, O'Neill discovered that they only had to walk the length of a couple football fields in order to get where they needed to go. But finally they were standing at the beginning - or the end, depending on one's perspective - of the endless rows of pots.

"Oh my god," Daniel whispered as he stared more closely at the large pot.

"What's wrong?"

"This isn't clay."

Jack stared at the pot in confusion. "What?"

"It's stone," the archeologist said in a half-whisper. His hand made a sweeping gesture that encompassed several rows. "These oldest pots are all carved from stone, each one is carved from a single block of stone. Look at them . . . so beautifully formed. We're definitely looking at pre-dynastic technology . . ."

His voice trailed off and O'Neill mentally shook his head. Technology? He had no idea how someone could be so thrilled by a bunch of old pots.

Jack backed away a few steps, folding his arms over his MP-5 and exhaling a large breath, because he knew this was Daniel's show. He also dug up all the patience he could find because he also knew this was going to take awhile, even if Daniel hurried. And there was no way in hell that Dr. Daniel Jackson was going to hurry over this.

As he knelt down beside the pot, Daniel was already digging through his backpack. Although the artifact was made of stone, he decided not to use one of the usual coarse brushes for fear that beneath the dust of ages that covered the stone, there might be some fragile and easily-damaged markings. Finally deciding to err on the side of caution, the archeologist chose his fine camel hair artist's brush that he normally kept for the most delicate work.

For the first several minutes, Daniel focused on the pot itself, moving his flashlight slowly over the surface as he gently brushed the dust and dirt away. He noticed that the brush was shaking slightly in his hand, which made him aware of the faint trembling that gripped his entire body. Calm down, Daniel told himself firmly. But that was easier said than done.

Before him, within easy reach, stood an artifact that had survived more than one hundred twenty centuries, twelve thousand years, and ended up on a planet light-years from the world where its creators had been born.

During their walk through the cavern, Daniel had paid close attention to how the pots had been formed. The clay pots all followed a similar design, one that obviously mimicked the older stone pots. But he had noticed small differences here and there. The urge to stop and examine the different pots more closely had nearly overwhelmed him more than once. It had taken all of his strength to continue walking.

And now he knelt before what was probably the oldest container in this great cavern. As the dirt of millennia gradually gave way before the gentle pressure of the brush, he saw that the surface was plain, without any adornment, and the harsh light of the flashlights washed away any subtle changes that might exist in the color of the stone.

Daniel winced at the thought of the damage the harsh artificial light might be doing to the surface of these ancient artifacts. At least this one was made of stone and was not as fragile as the clay pots. But what he really needed was time to set up a proper -

The sound of Jack clearing his throat broke into his wistful dream and he gritted his teeth. To do what he had to do meant that he had to move as quickly as possible, had to go against a lifetime of training and experience. For a moment he couldn't move as he struggled against the feeling that his overwhelming need to find his family had led him to make a deal with the devil. Finally, murmuring a soft apology in ancient Egyptian, he gently touched the top of the ancient stone figure, his fingers moving carefully around the lid where it fitted so perfectly into the body of the pot. He moved his flashlight slowly around the lid while dabbing gently with the small brush.

"It appears to have been sealed with wax," he murmured absently.

"They had wax back then?"

The archeologist didn't bother looking up from his inspection. "Yes, Jack. Beeswax." In sudden alarm he twisted around to face the priest who was still standing by the wall, watching them.

"Esamenope?" he said quickly, but a moment later he relaxed. The priest had met his anxious query with reassurance. Beeswax was still in use so it would be a simple matter to re-seal this pot when they had finished with it. Then it could once again be left safely among the rest of this . . . this astonishing collection of history.

The more he thought about it, the more amazing Daniel found this whole repository. The cavern was more than thirty feet underground so it was no surprise that the air in here was cool. What was a surprise was the fact that the air was not uncomfortably cool. And the greatest surprise that he kept coming back to - no humidity.

There were any number of ways that the modern world could maintain temperature and humidity in a chamber. But this cavern appeared natural, with absolutely no indication that Daniel could see that would point to humans having helped to form it. The walls and ceiling were made up of roughly formed stone, the irregularities further proof of their creation by the normal geologic ebb and flow of the planet.

Which made the lack of humidity and moderate temperature even more remarkable.

But though he would have loved to investigate these anomalies, Daniel knew he would not be given the time. He needed to focus on what he was here to do. Which, in itself, was equally amazing and remarkable.

Swallowing guilt and regret for his unseemly haste, Daniel set down the brush and unwrapped his collection of dental picks. After another study of the snug joint fitting the lid to the pot, he chose one of the smaller picks.

"What's that?" Daniel heard from the peanut gallery.

"It's what I'm going to use to try to get through the wax," the archeologist said patiently.

"Why not just yank off the lid? I mean how tight a seal can wax be?"

Daniel closed his eyes briefly. Was Jack really serious or was he just pulling the archeologist's chain? Either possibility was annoying but he hoped it was the latter. He wouldn't be responsible for his actions if he ever saw his C.O. deliberately inflicting damage on a twelve-thousand-year-old artifact.

"I am not going to risk damaging this pot or its contents," he said flatly. "If you really want to help, shine your light here, not on the pot directly but just so that the backwash of the light catches it."

The archeologist ignored the grumbling and focused on the narrow gap between the lid and the pot that was filled with wax. With every nerve on alert, he very gently, very slowly, began to insert the pick into the hardened wax. He blew out a deep breath and set to work, moving with agonizing care in an effort to avoid any damage.

Daniel had no idea how much time had passed before he finally cleared out the last of the wax. He studied the large pot one more time, triple-checking that he hadn't missed anything, wanting to be certain there were no cracks or other flaws that might be worsened by handling the twelve-thousand-year-old relic.

His heart was pounding unevenly as he finally, ever-so-carefully, gripped the small protuberance on top of the lid. Daniel swallowed hard, then gently began to lift the lid. Feeling resistance he immediately released it and peered more closely into the narrow crevice that separated the lid from the jar. Ah . . . he could see where some of the wax had dried underneath the lid. It was still sealed.

The archeologist picked up the dental pick again and, very gently, slid it beneath the lid where he slowly, ultra-cautiously, began to work through the dried remnants of the wax. It took several careful, nerve-wracking minutes of effort before Daniel finally felt the lid lift slightly under the gentle pressure of the pick.

He licked suddenly dry lips and once more gripped the knob and eased it upwards. This time the lid came up easily, the faint grinding of stone against stone confirmation of how snugly the lid fit.

Lightly suddenly brightened around him and Daniel immediately threw out an obstructive hand. "Not the flashlight!" he snapped.

Immediately the light turned away, leaving behind only a faint glow of the backwash.

"How in the hell are you going to see anything with no light?" O'Neill demanded behind him.

"I'm afraid that the light from our flashlights may be too strong," the archeologist explained. "Let me have one of the oil lamps."

Despite fresh grumbling, Jack immediately took one of the lamps from a nearby niche and handed it to Daniel. Holding his breath, Daniel raised the lamp in the air until its light illuminated the inside of the pot. For a split second, shocked delight held the archeologist motionless, then he whispered,

"My god!"

The jar was packed full with scores of neatly-rolled papyri.

Daniel started to reach into the jar but pulled his hand back. Although he rarely used them, he kept a small box of plastic gloves with his archeological tools. If this occasion didn't call for their use, nothing did.

"What're those for?" Jack demanded as the archeologist pulled on a pair.

"I don't want the oils from my skin to contaminate the papyri."

"Of course not."

Daniel could practically hear his C.O. rolling his eyes but ignored him. Once again he reached into the pot, hesitated to still the trembling in his hand, then gently closed his fingers around one roll. Slowly, carefully, he eased it free until he could lift it up and out. Daniel was awed by the realization that the material felt like a fresh piece of papyrus. There was no sign of brittleness or age. If he didn't know better, this roll could have been placed in the jar just yesterday.

Kneeling on the ground, he moved the oil lamp closer, but not close enough to risk burning anything, and then cautiously began to unroll the papyrus. As the ancient script was revealed to him, his vision blurred momentarily. Blinking hastily, Daniel sat hard on his excitement, taking deep, controlled breaths. After a moment he was able to look at the writing more closely.

More proto-hieroglyphics. Which was no more than he had expected. Historically, he had moved back millennia before the earliest records of ancient Egypt on Earth. He turned the papyrus at an angle to better pick up the soft light from the oil lamp, then smiled in delight. Under these circumstances it was impossible to be sure, but the script looked as if it had been written in the black ink invented by the ancient Egyptians, an invention that must also be millennia older than previously thought.

Daniel's first thought was that he would be here for hours, translating these very obscure symbols, many of which he had never seen before. He had only brought a few reference books because he had never imagined anything like this. For the most part, he realized uneasily, he was going to have to rely on his near-photographic memory.

But before he had a chance to feel overwhelmed by the task, he noticed the smaller script near the upper edge of the sheet, and sighed in mingled relief and disappointment.

"It's dated," he said out loud.

"What?"

"This sheet is dated . . ." Daniel chewed his lip as he thought back to his discussions with Mehtetweshket. The dating system on this planet was fairly similar to the system of the ancient Egyptian civilization on Earth. Assuming that system continued back into their earliest histories, then the date on this papyrus was approximately eleven thousand years old.

This was going to take awhile but nothing like what he had initially thought (and deliberately avoided mentioning to his C.O.). Which was good news for their mission but disappointing as well. What he wouldn't give to be able to spend an extended period of time working his way through these ancient records -

Daniel cut off the thought, sighing gently to himself. He carefully rolled the papyrus back up and, even more carefully, started to lay it on the floor, only to snatch it back up at the last minute.

"Jack, I need something to put this on."

"What's wrong with the ground?"

"I don't want to take a chance of it getting wet or otherwise damaged."

"The ground isn't wet, Daniel."

The archeologist gritted his teeth. "I am not setting this down until I can put it on a more protected surface."

"Oh for crying out loud!"

In the end, Daniel was able to carefully lay the papyrus on an unrolled sleeping bag. One by one, he cautiously removed other papyri, checking the date on each one before setting it down, keeping careful track so as to keep them in order.

It turned out that the papyri were stacked one on top of the other, each row separated from the next by a layer of wax. How on earth it had been formed so neatly and precisely - no, Daniel thought reluctantly, he didn't have time to go into that aspect either. He thought briefly and anxiously about how long it was going to take to re-pack this jar properly, then discarded the thought as unproductive for the moment.

When he finally reached the papyri at the bottom of the jar, the first one he lifted into view proved to be what he had been looking for. Daniel's first sight of the date on the sheet nearly made him drop the precious item. He caught his breath, trying to grip the papyrus more firmly without pressing the papyrus between his fingers unnecessarily.

"I think this is it," he murmured, unaware that his voice trembled. "According to the date, and these first few words . . . if I'm translating them properly . . ."

Twelve thousand years ago, an unnamed scribe, servant of the unnamed gods, had set down the events that had led a civilization from a star light-years across the galaxy to this planet. Daniel vaguely realized that he was trembling again, but he was too focused on the obscure script to care.

From his position leaning against the near wall, Jack divided his attention between the archeologist, transfixed by whatever he was deciphering, and occasional treks back to the opening that led out to the stairs up to the shrine. For his part, the priest disappeared for awhile, reappeared long enough to take a look at what Daniel was doing, then disappeared again.

O'Neill had gone back up to the surface at the end of two hours to check in with Carter. She advised him that they had reached the plateau and were checking for the richest sources of the elements from which she would take samples. Jack confirmed with his 2IC that they would check-in again in two more hours. After that bit of excitement, he returned to the cavern to find that Daniel didn't appear to have moved since he had begun working his way through that roll of papyrus.

Jack's eyebrows rose at the length of the roll. Hell, it had to be more than four feet long and there looked to be a whole lot more yet to be unrolled. Damn, it was going to take even longer than he had first feared.

"Daniel," he demanded, "just how long is that sucker?" He sighed in frustration when the archeologist did not respond. When this kid focused he really focused.

"Jackson!" he snapped.

Several more seconds passed before he heard an abstracted, "Umm, hmm?"

"How long is that thing?"

"This?" Daniel spared him a brief glance over his shoulder, not even straightening from his crouch over the papyrus. "I'm not sure yet. It's not uncommon for some rolls of papyri to be twenty feet or more in length. I'll let you know when I get to the end."

O'Neill swallowed a sarcastic remark. He could do this. Patience was a prime requirement in special operations. Being patient had saved his life many times. But it never got any easier.

As the three-hour mark passed, Jack straightened. Time for a little archeological sit-rep.

"Daniel."

Nothing. Of course not. Jack snorted at himself. He moved a few steps closer and raised his voice.

"Earth to Daniel!"

The archeologist started and his head jerked up. He winced under O'Neill's flashlight and Jack turned it aside.

"You got anything yet?"

"Jack, I need more time - "

"I'm not stopping you, Daniel. I just need to know if you've got anything. Give me something to work with and you can go back to that chicken scratching."

The archeologist frowned at his C.O.'s description, but his excitement outweighed his annoyance.

"I'm having to guess at a good deal of this." The admission wrung a grimace from the archeologist, but he doggedly continued. "But as best as I can tell, this civilization is from Earth. The people who were brought to this planet twelve thousand years ago were the ancestors of the people who came to make up what we know as ancient Egypt."

"Daniel," he said warningly.

Though dim, the light was enough for him to see the glare the archeologist gave him. "You asked me a question, Jack. I'm trying to answer it."

"Okay," O'Neill grunted. "I'm listening."

"I don't think this is the earliest written record on this planet," Daniel said abruptly.

Jack almost groaned. "What, this isn't the right pot?"

"Yes it is, here in this cavern. But - " Daniel cast another look at the ancient script, five feet of which he had so far uncovered - "it appears that there are records even more ancient in the old temple."

"I thought you said they didn't have temples here."

The archeologist shook his head impatiently. "It's not . . . I think what we're looking at here are two separate civilizations. The one we know, which is obviously descended from the ancient Egyptians, and the civilization that brought the ancestors of these people to this planet."

O'Neill stared at the younger man, tempted to scratch his head. "So . . . there is a temple somewhere where these other guys wrote everything down?"

"The temple is in the cave on the plateau," Daniel said softly. Which revelation hadn't really surprised him when he discovered it. He felt he was beginning to recognize the pieces of a puzzle that both excited and dismayed him.

Jack closed his eyes briefly as he fought a sudden upsurge of frustration. After several seconds passed he was able to respond calmly. "The same cave that you - "

"Yes," Daniel smiled briefly, "the same cave you and I explored for a few minutes up on the plateau."

It had been a hell of a lot longer than a few minutes, Jack was tempted to argue, but he let it go. "So we have to go back up there to find out the answers to a couple of lousy questions? Why in the hell didn't these guys tells us about that cave in the first place?"

"I doubt if anyone knows about it," Daniel said thoughtfully. "Think about it, Jack. The records are here but how often would anyone want to access them? Only a scribe and possibly the priest could read them and they have more important things to do on a daily basis."

He paused to study his C.O. who was looking less than enthusiastic. The archeologist glanced down at the ancient script, hoping he wasn't revealing anything that might arouse Jack's suspicions. What he had told Jack was true, as far as it went. But what he hadn't mentioned yet . . . well, after all, they were only hints in the ancient writing about how the unnamed gods had provided a way for the planet's inhabitants to force the evil gods off this world . . . a way that had been hidden in the temple on the plateau.

In his mind's eye, Daniel saw again the crumbled remains of the huge pyramid that had once dominated the plateau. Was that the kind of power that could be accessed in the old temple? The thought of such power falling into human hands terrified him. Look how humans had already ravaged their own planet with comparatively insignificant weapons. Human beings weren't ready for the kind of power that had turned the pyramid into ruins. Daniel wasn't sure humans would ever be ready for that kind of power.

He was suddenly, overwhelmingly, grateful that the people of this world had apparently not bothered to study the very beginnings of their civilization. There was no telling the damage that might have resulted if -

"Hell," Jack said, his voice breaking through Daniel's preoccupation. "We really need to go back up there? To find a temple in a cave? Just to get a couple lousy questions answered?" He sighed in resignation. After all, they had to go back up there to get to the Stargate. "Hey," he said abruptly, in a much lighter tone. "A temple in a cave? Is that like a bed-in-a-bag?"

Daniel gave his C.O. a withering glare but Jack's grin was unrepentant. With a put-upon sigh, the archeologist turned back to the papyrus.

"I need to finish translating this," he said with a snap, making it clear he intended to do just that.

Jack's grin lingered for a moment as he moved away, only to change to a frown at the realization that they were probably going to be here for much longer than another hour.

He rolled his eyes at the thought, consciously resisting another glance at his watch. He really didn't want more confirmation of how long they had been down here. But despite feeling as if they had been in this place for at least a day, he knew it was, in fact, still morning. Very soon, however, they were going to hit the end of their second two-hour-period which meant he would have to go top-side to contact Carter about requesting the SGC for yet more time on this planet.

O'Neill groaned inwardly at the thought. The good food and nice people notwithstanding, he really didn't want -

He straightened abruptly, every battle-honed instinct screaming in alarm. What had he heard? Something. So faint he couldn't be sure . . .

Jack glanced at the preoccupied archeologist and moved swiftly back to the opening of the cavern, then down the short hallway. Standing at the bottom of the stone stairs he strained to hear. But all he heard was silence -

There. There it was again. His heartbeat stuttered momentarily then kicked into high gear as he spun back into the cavern and raced toward the barely-visible figure still kneeling on the floor at the opposite end of the great room.

Though the sound had been distorted and muffled by the earth that surrounded them, O'Neill had no doubt about what he'd heard. It had been the distinct, unmistakable blast of a staff weapon.

His hands tightened around his MP-5 as he heard, faintly but definitely - and getting closer - more explosions.

Sonofabitch. He'd been wrong. What he'd heard hadn't been the blast of a staff weapon. Those explosions were coming from a whole hell of a lot of staff weapons.

(One hour earlier)

Even while she was focused on taking soil samples, Sam remained aware of the Jaffa standing a few yards behind her. The realization kept invisible spiders racing up and down her spine and she hoped that her discomfort was not obvious to him. Except, she was pretty sure that it was.

It had been a long, silent hike back to and then up to the top of the plateau, made more arduous because she refused to ask the Jaffa to slow his pace. With gritted teeth she kept up with him, though she could feel herself beginning to falter as she forced herself up the last several, near-vertical feet of the trail that meandered up the side of the plateau. Sam had been so exhausted and relieved to reach the top that for a horrifying minute she thought she might break into tears of thankfulness.

Fortunately, she had managed to swallow them. Working to maintain her most capable, professional air, Sam immediately busied herself with checking over the ground once more, searching for the richest pockets she could find of the minerals that she wanted. It had taken a long time to narrow her search until she could finally begin to take actual samples, careful to mark each bag with where she had found it.

It was all slow, tedious work that, though she tried to ignore him, was made more difficult by her acute awareness of the Jaffa. Occasionally he would leave her to make a circuit of the area but he was never gone long. And with each passing moment she felt her tension, created by his presence, ratcheting up another notch.

Sam knew he was here to guard her while she worked. She knew that. And he had not said or done anything that she could take exception to. Nonetheless, she would have been willing to hand over six months of her salary if it would have convinced him to leave her alone for while.

Sudden movement behind her made Sam immediately drop her unproductive thoughts and whirl around, just in time to catch a back view of Teal'c heading for the edge of the plateau.

"Teal'c - " she started, only to snap her mouth shut when he shoved an imperative hand at her.

Fuming, Carter climbed quickly to her feet to follow him, uncertain whether to be concerned or aggravated by this interruption of her work. To her bewilderment, he stopped right at the edge of the plateau, peering down through the thick brush and scrub trees, as if searching the surface of the planet. Sam's instincts snapped to attention at the sight of his alert stance and she hastily went back to snatch up her weapon before going after him again. She slowed her pace as she neared him but his massive physique made it impossible to see around him. Taking one last step that brought her up beside him, she tried to peer through the obstruction of dense, tangled brush, but without success.

Though Sam hated to ask, she had to know. "What is it?" she hissed.

Teal'c heard the question but he was too focused on trying to confirm his senses' warning to respond. He had heard . . . something. His sharper vision was able to penetrate the thick brush to search the terrain below the plateau, looking for proof.

There.

Despite the distance Teal'c had no difficulty recognizing them and his grip tightened on his staff weapon.

It was a Jaffa patrol. A dozen Jaffa were moving directly toward the village, just a mile below their position.

O'Neill and Daniel Jackson needed to be warned. He reached for his radio, then let his hand drop when he remembered he would have to go back around the ruined pyramid before the radio would work.

His eyes narrowed as he watched, wanting to gather all the information he could before moving back toward the Stargate to contact O'Neill. The patrol was not following standard strategy nor were they moving in standard formation. On the one hand, it was understandable. Teal'c's own survey of this planet had revealed nothing threatening. The natives here were incapable of standing up to a Gou'ald force. Obviously this patrol had come to the same conclusion - how? Where had they come from? How long had they been on this planet? - and were behaving in a more relaxed manner than normal. Nonetheless, Teal'c felt an swift upwelling of displeasure. If these Jaffa were under his command, they would be punished for such a lack of discipline.

He gave himself a brief mental shake. He was no longer allied with the Gou'ald. The lack of discipline exhibited by this patrol could work to SG-1's advantage.

Teal'c's thoughts came to a dead stop as his eyes focused on one of the Jaffa. Even at this distance there was something familiar about him . . .

Shak'l!

Teal'c felt his respiration increase and sternly brought himself under control again. Was it possible that he might be able to return Daniel Jackson's family to him so quickly?

"Teal'c, what's going on?"

Captain Carter's insistent voice broke into his concentration. "A Jaffa patrol," he said tersely, not taking his eyes off of that figure near the front of the formation.

"What? A - what?" No, she thought immediately, it couldn't be. "That's impossible," she exclaimed, then winced at herself. Just great, Samantha, she told herself. Very professional.

Angry with herself, Sam darted back to her pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. When she returned to Teal'c's side she knelt down, adjusting for the distance, and then began searching the landscape below. Trying to ignore the obstruction of nearby branches and leaves, she focused all of her attention -

And there they were. She counted quickly - twelve tiny figures moving toward the village where SG-1 had stayed last night. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to take in more details, but she couldn't, not from this distance. But she could make out the armor, the staff weapons, and knew that Teal'c was correct.

Sam lowered her binoculars to rub her eyes. Even with the aid of artificial magnification, she had a hard time following the movements of the tiny figures below them. She couldn't help a brief, slightly resentful look at the imposing figure - with his vastly superior senses - beside her but there was no time for side issues.

"Teal'c, can you tell anything about them from here?"

"They belong to Apophis," he said flatly.

Sam stared disbelievingly at the Jaffa. He could identify the symbols on their foreheads from here? Or were there some other ways to identify - she cut her thoughts off. Focus, she thought.

"We need to warn the Colonel," she thought aloud. Ordinarily, it would have been simple enough. But the radios would not broadcast from their current position. She would have to go back to the Stargate and contact the Colonel from there. Except then she wouldn't be able to raise Teal'c while he remained here, watching. And the Colonel had ordered them to stay together up here. Of course, he hadn't foreseen this . . .

Sam didn't like her choices but urgency forced her hand. Colonel O'Neill and Daniel were in much greater danger right now than Teal'c.

"I'll head back to the Stargate," she said. "You keep an eye on that patrol and let me know if anything changes - " she stopped as the Jaffa suddenly moved forward, shoving aside a mass of interfering shrubbery with one long arm as he looked about to go over the edge of the plateau.

"Teal'c!" She grabbed his arm and uncertainty shot through her when she felt the impressive musculature beneath her fingers. At the same instant that she realized she could never hold him if he chose to continue, he stopped his forward motion to turn on her. She flinched inwardly under his blistering glare but made sure there was no sign of it in her voice when she said,

"What do you think you're doing?"

She felt the muscles under her grip tighten and for an instant feared he was just going to pull away. But instead he said coldly, "I must speak with one of those Jaffa."

"You . . . what?" Sam gaped at him, momentarily dumbfounded. The first thought that shook itself loose was less than diplomatic.

"Are you crazy?" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth and turned immediately to a more solid argument. "We can't let them know we're here. If that patrol discovers our presence it would not only compromise the mission but our lives - "

Teal'c turned sharply toward her and she kept her grip on his arm with an effort. The look he gave her made her cringe inwardly.

"When I last saw Shak'l," he said, his tone freezing the marrow of her bones, "he had just been named to Apophis' personal guard. It is likely that he knows where Daniel Jackson's mate is located, perhaps his brother as well."

"So?" Sam demanded. She stared at his implacable features in growing disbelief, feeling her heart sinking as she recognized his intentions. "Teal'c, you can't!"

Did this female know nothing of a warrior's honor? Teal'c had given his word to Daniel Jackson and here, so quickly, lay the possible resolution to his quest. He easily pulled out her grasp and, without hesitation, moved quickly into the near-impenetrable scrub brush and trees as he headed down the steep incline.

Sam stared after him, furious and - damn him! - intimidated. Which, she was certain, had been the Jaffa's intention. She gripped her radio, only to remember again that the signal would not carry from this side of the ruined pyramid.

Damn it! She needed the Colonel. She needed to warn him about the patrol. And he would figure out some way to rein in Teal'c -

Carter closed her eyes, suddenly realizing what she was thinking. What was the matter with her? She was 2IC of SG-1. Teal'c was under her command and she had to stop him from taking such an impulsive, potentially deadly, action.

Except he was already gone, moving downhill with amazing speed and surety. Especially considering there was no path to follow on this side of the plateau. Sam gritted her teeth in frustration as she watched his large form quickly swallowed up by the obscuring trees and thick scrub brush. She had her orders and they didn't include chasing after Teal'c or a Jaffa patrol. But by the time she got close enough to the Stargate to be able to use her radio to apprise the Colonel of the situation, Teal'c would be long gone,

Ultimately, one fact stood out above all others. If she remained here, Teal'c would end up facing that Jaffa patrol alone.

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled. She really hadn't expected to be committing a court-martialable offense on her very first mission through the Stargate. But there was no alternative.

Cursing under her breath, she began to make her way down the same path Teal'c had taken, her pulse accelerating as she took in the near-vertical wall of rock and scrub brush that she had to climb down. One thing was certain. She was tired of feeling intimidated. No more.

Daniel didn't know what was happening. One moment he had been torn between excitement and foreboding while he attempted to translate proto-hieroglyphics older than he could wrap his archeologist's mind around, and the next moment Jack had his arm in an iron grip and was dragging him out of the cavern, up the stone stairs and through the shrine, all the while ignoring his protestations and questions.

As soon as they reached the exit to the shrine his C.O. yanked him to a stop and pointed a threatening finger at him. But it was O'Neill's fierce glare that proved to be more effective than a sudden face-full of ice water in silencing the younger man.

The archeologist watched in bewilderment as Jack cocked his head in a distinct listening gesture, then Daniel's stomach surged into his throat at the sound of nearby explosions. Was that - ? No, he thought fervently, it couldn't be. It couldn't!

"Jack?" he said, barely audible.

"Stay beside me," O'Neill said shortly, the anger in his voice not diminished by the fact that he spoke in a near-whisper.

Daniel nodded, sensing the anger was not directed at him. For himself, he was terrified at the thought of what was happening to the villagers. How, how could this be? How could the Gou'ald be here now? He closed his eyes at the thought, trying to swallow but his throat was too dry. Equally terrifying was the thought that this attack was somehow connected with SG-1's visit to this world. How that could be, he had no idea. But the coincidence seemed too great to be a coincidence.

He suddenly realized that he was still holding his backpack, which he had been rummaging through again when Jack grabbed him down in the cavern. Quickly, he shoved it back onto his shoulders, trying to ignore his shaking hands that made the task more difficult than usual.

Jack suddenly keyed his radio, speaking quietly but urgently. "Carter, Teal'c, you read me?"

But his efforts went for naught and after a moment he gave up.

The questions continued to race through Daniel's mind, overwhelming him with their intensity. He tried to ignore them, tried to focus on Jack, who had taken a step out of the shrine to peer cautiously around. Apparently, he saw nothing of immediate danger for he left the shrine, moving swiftly and keeping low, his weapon ready.

Daniel followed closely, trying to look in every direction at once, listening, listening, but only able to hear the pounding of his pulse in his head.

Then the world exploded around him and he felt himself falling as his vision went black.

"Jackson!"

Daniel blinked dazedly, then winced in pain. He raised his arms defensively and felt them shoved back down, then another slap across his face brought him back to aching consciousness.

He looked up to see a familiar, though slightly blurry at the moment, figure leaning over him.

"Jack?" he mumbled.

"Yeah. You okay?"

"What happened?"

"Never mind that now. Are you okay to move?"

There was a new note in his C.O.'s voice - urgency mingled with rage - that cut through the fog lingering in Daniel's brain. Reacting to the tone, the archeologist took a quick survey of himself, relieved to find all parts intact and usable, if somewhat bruised and battered.

"I'm fine," he said, wincing as he sat up. "What happened?"

"A building blew up right in front of us. We got caught in it."

Daniel looked quickly around. "Jaffa? They know we're here?"

"Yes it was and no they don't. Not yet." Jack was standing now and held out a hand. "Come on, we've got to move."

With his C.O.'s help, Daniel climbed to his feet, staggered momentarily, then released his grip.

"We have to help these people!"

"Right now we could do with a bit of help ourselves," Jack shot back. "Let's go."

Daniel started to protest but Jack was already moving again, and the archeologist's eyes widened when he realized that the older man was favoring his right leg.

"You're hurt!"

"Keep your voice down!" O'Neill whispered fiercely, turning down yet another nameless little street.

Daniel winced, irritated with himself. He needed to help Jack, not hinder him. Shoving back his shock and fear for the villagers, the archeologist focused on their situation. There were still periodic explosions, off to their left, on the other side of the village, but fewer than before.

"What about Sam and Teal'c?" he called softly.

"I've been trying to raise them, but no luck."

The pair must still be taking samples, Daniel thought, then caught his breath. Were they still on the plateau, obliviously taking samples? The Jaffa must have come through the Stargate . . . what if Sam and Teal'c had been surprised? They might be captured or -

Daniel firmly stomped on his unproductive, fear-driven thoughts. Sam was a soldier, Teal'c was a warrior with tremendous experience. Even if the Jaffa had come through while the pair were still up on the plateau, they would have been alerted by the noisy opening of the Stargate. They were all right, he just knew it.

But where were they now?

He coughed, belatedly realizing that the air was thick with the dust and grit from the destroyed buildings and acrid with smoke. But worse were the intermittent sounds of screams and cries, sounds filled with terror and agony, sounds that ripped through his heart and left him fighting back tears of grief and anger.

Worst of all was the smell of seared flesh . . . a smell that warned him not to look closely at what had once been homes and businesses but which were now graves -

"Shit!" Jack snapped, stopping so abruptly at the corner of a building that Daniel plowed into his back. Daniel heard the hiss of pain from the older man and his wandering thoughts snapped to attention.

"Jack, how badly are you hurt?" he demanded.

"I'm okay," O'Neill retorted but there was a sick note to his voice that deepened Daniel's concern. He started to move up beside his C.O. but Jack immediately shoved him back.

"Don't," he whispered harshly, the word immediately followed by a nearby scream. His heart in his throat, Daniel peered over the older man's shoulder.

"Oh, god, no," he whispered, stunned and sickened by the sight that met his eyes.

They were just outside of what had been the market area a few hours ago. Now it housed an ever-growing crowd of human beings, bruised and battered and terrified, who were being shoved together like cattle being prepared for slaughter.

Watching from their hiding place, the archeologist stared in horror. "Jack!" he choked out.

Daniel's agonized whisper was accompanied by a bone-bruising grip on his C.O.'s arm. O'Neill couldn't help a wince even as he snapped back - "Be quiet!"

"But, Jack, we have to help these people!"

"Daniel - "

The archeologist released his grip to gesture frantically toward the ugly scene. "It's just like what happened on Abydos! The Jaffa are kidnapping people to turn them into - "

This close to the younger man, Jack had no trouble hearing his audible gulp before Daniel rushed on. "We have to stop them!"

Hearing the desperate note in Daniel's voice, he gripped the archeologist's arm, gritting his teeth as he felt the quivering tension vibrating through the archeologist.

O'Neill tried to force back his own white-hot anger at what they were seeing. His first responsibility was to his team. He had to get Jackson out of here, had to find Carter and Teal'c. Then, if there was a chance . . . the thought burned in his throat.

"Daniel, they outnumber us almost six to one. Not to mention we can't reach Carter or Teal'c -"

His words caught in his throat at the sight of the little boy, Kebu, being carried kicking and screaming out of his devastated home and thrown into the ever-growing group of hostages.

"Sonofabitch," he snarled. Rage burned though him, molten-hot, as his hands tightened around his MP-5.

"Jack - "

"Just shut up a minute!" O'Neill snarled as his mind raced through several possible rescue scenarios. But first, first he had to locate his missing team members.

He wished desperately that Teal'c was with him because he had no idea how long this process would go on. Teal'c would know, not to mention that his staff weapon would be mighty handy right about now. Was there enough time to do . . . something? He looked at his teammate but Daniel had no eyes for anything except the horrific scene before them. The kid was an archeologist, a scientist, for crying out loud. He sure as hell hadn't trained for this.

Five years ago Jack could have turned his back on this horror and walked away. Special Ops had called him to make despicable choices more than once. But he wasn't the man he'd been five years ago. Hell, he wasn't the man he'd been even a year ago. The loss of his child, the destruction of his marriage, and the faith of a stubborn, naive young archeologist who refused to give up on him had all changed him in ways he still hadn't fully come to terms with.

What he knew now, as well as he knew his own name, was that he could not turn his back on the desperate plight of these people.

All the while the thoughts were racing through his mind, O'Neill's training and experience were observing the scene and calculating the odds. Finally, he shook his head and grasped the younger man's shoulder.

"Come on," he ordered.

"No!" Daniel tried to pull away but the grip was too strong. He winced as his C.O.'s fingers dug into his flesh but the pain wasn't enough to distract him. "We can't leave, Jack! We have to help them!"

"We will, but not here," Jack hissed. "Too many hostiles, too well-organized. Maybe we can do something up near the Stargate. But we have to leave now to avoid them seeing us on the way back."

They had to move fast, but even with a head start they were likely to be spotted in that long, flat, two-mile expanse between the village and the cover of the rockier terrain near the plateau. And the pain from his injured leg and freshly-bruised ribs hadn't eased up any. But despite the fact that his mind was churning through alternatives scenarios, he couldn't come up with a better idea. Maybe it would come to him in their run across the desert.

Dragging Daniel with him, O'Neill steeled his heart against the younger man's anguished expression. They sure as hell couldn't go forward here. They'd have to find another route, more circuitous, through the town so that they could head for the plateau. And equally critical, as soon as they were out of hearing, Jack would try to contact his missing teammates. The two-hour limit had come and gone. When he didn't contact her, he knew Carter would have tried to radio him.

Except she hadn't.

Even as he hurried down the narrow, twisting streets, one hand firmly gripping the archeologist's arm, O'Neill tried to shove down his growing apprehension. Maybe Carter had been so wrapped up with her samples that she'd simply lost track of time. Except that he didn't believe it. No way in hell would Carter have forgotten, but even if she had been attacked by temporary amnesia, Teal'c would have remembered.

Something had gone wrong up on the plateau.

As much as he resisted the idea, O'Neill knew it was the only one that made sense. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped that when he was finally able to try radioing Carter and Teal'c again, he'd be successful.

But he didn't think he would be.

"Stop!"

Jack stumbled, catching himself just in time as he felt his arm almost yanked out of its socket. Daniel had nearly torn himself from his C.O.'s grasp and as O'Neill whirled furiously on him, the archeologist whispered frantically -

"Netnebu!"

Shit!

Jack released the younger man and Daniel raced into the ultra-narrow street, reminiscent of an alley, they were just passing. Lying on his back a few feet inside was a familiar figure rendered almost unrecognizable by blood and torn flesh, his eyes staring sightlessly.

Daniel's heart skipped several beats as he fell on his knees beside the scribe. Shock and horror swept over him as he got a close look at the horribly battered features of the man.

"Netnebu," he pleaded as he jerked out his canteen and struggled with shaking hands to open it. "Netnebu!"

Barely aware of Jack behind him, guarding the entry to the alley, Daniel finally got the canteen open. Afraid to try to move the old man, he gently trickled a few drops of water into the half-open mouth. Nothing happened and he tried again, blinking fiercely as he fought back tears.

There! His heart leaped at the sight of the scribe's Adam's apple bobbing slightly. Carefully, he poured a few more drops and this time heard a faint gulp.

"He's alive!" he whispered jubilantly.

Netnebu blinked, then his eyes opened wide. Daniel shifted slightly so that he was in the scribe's line of sight and the old man blinked again.

"Da . . . Dan . . ." he croaked.

"Yes," the archeologist said quickly, allowing a tiny bit more water to trickle down the man's throat. "I'm here and Jack's here." Damn! He was speaking English. Cursing his shredded nerves, Daniel immediately switched to ancient Egyptian.

Leaning against the wall, O'Neill kept a wary eye on the street. They didn't dare linger much longer. Even though most of the chaos belonged a few streets over, that could change in an instant.

It hadn't escaped Jack's notice - though he fervently hoped it had escaped Daniel's - that all of the villagers who were being rounded up were young and attractive. Kebu - his gut clenched at the thought of the child - had appeared to be the youngest, with the majority looking to be in their late teens and a few in their early 20's.

What had happened to the villagers who were older or younger than the apparent target age was something he really didn't want to think about.

A guttural shout just around the corner had O'Neill shrinking back into the fragile shadows of the alley.

"Don't move!" he hissed over his shoulders as he raised his MP-5, then lowered it again even as he spotted the approaching shadow. If he fired, O'Neill knew every Jaffa in the village would be on them in an instant. Instead, he set down his rifle and pulled out his knife.

The Jaffa tramped into view, his staff weapon lowered, obviously not concerned for his safety. But his snake-enhanced senses must have warned him because he suddenly wheeled toward the alley at the same time he yanked his staff weapon up.

O'Neill leaped for him, one hand closing over the half-opened mouth while the other hand brought the wickedly-sharp blade sharply across the exposed throat.

There was a strangled grunt of pain, a sudden geyser of blood -

Then O'Neill was dragging the dying Jaffa into the alley, not stopping until he reached the end. He lowered the Jaffa to the ground, grimacing when the glazed eyes found him, waiting until the last, guttural breath departed.

A quick glance around revealed plenty of debris and Jack hastily covered the large form. With any luck, the body would not be discovered until long after they had left the village.

O'Neill moved swiftly back to the entrance of the alley where he scooped up his MP-5 before turning once more to the pathetic, broken form of what had recently been a proud man, beside whom Daniel still lingered.

He spared a brief, regretful look at Netnebu. They didn't have time to help him, even if help was possible. And they sure as hell couldn't take him with them. Apart from making it next to impossible for them to escape, moving him would probably kill him faster than leaving him here.

"Jackson," he hissed, "we've got to go."

For an instant he thought Daniel hadn't heard him or else was ignoring him. Then he realized that Netnebu was saying something, in such a weak voice that, even if Jack had understood the language, he wouldn't have been able to hear. But the archeologist was leaning over the scribe, his head almost touching Netnebu's while he held his hand.

With a last murmured exhalation, Netnebu's eyes fluttered and closed. Watching, Jack felt his throat tighten. Damn it to hell. Forcing back his emotion, he prodded the archeologist.

"Let's go," he snapped.

Daniel remained kneeling by the still figure for a moment, his head bowed, then he stood up slowly. O'Neill pretended he didn't notice the shimmer of moisture in the younger man's eyes as he turned back to the street, only to be pulled up short by Daniel's sudden grasp of his arm.

"Wait, Jack."

O'Neill glared impatiently. They didn't have time for this!

"Wait for what?" he grated.

"We have to go back to the shrine."

Jack stared at the younger man in disbelief. "We what?"

Daniel threw a quick look at the scribe's body, then turned to his C.O., determination warring with his grief.

"Netnebu asked why the 'invaders' had come here and I told him they intended to kidnap his people and take them to the plateau - " Daniel's features twisted briefly - "where they would take his people away into slavery. He said that there's a way to get to the plateau that's faster than walking across the desert. We can stop them!"

Jack tensed, hope warring with reality. Nice people notwithstanding, this was a primitive culture. "How in the hell can we do that?" he demanded.

Daniel gestured in the direction of the shrine. "There's another way to the plateau but we have to go back down into the cavern."

"What! Daniel, that cavern is one fuckin' big room but there's no way - hell, the old man was probably delirious - "

"Jack, for god's sake - " Daniel stopped, collecting himself. "Netnebu knew he was dying. He wanted us to save his people."

O'Neill closed his eyes momentarily in frustration. What Daniel was saying made no sense. And they were losing precious time -

"Jack, please!" Daniel gripped the older man's arm tightly, giving it a little shake. "I believe Netnebu knew what he was talking about. Please, please let's go back to the shrine!"

For an instant O'Neill struggled between his experience and Daniel's frantic plea. But when he looked into those huge blue eyes filled with desperation and, yes, certainty, his breath escaped in a gasp of frustration.

"For crying out loud!" he snarled. "Let's go!"

During their interminable journey sneaking back the way they had just come, ducking and dodging every time they heard a suspicion sound, O'Neill wondered repeatedly at his stupidity. How in the hell could he go against every bit of training and experience he possessed in the impossible hope that this primitive culture had some kind of secret something-or-other that could help one ex-Special Ops officer and a thirty-year-old-going-on-fifteen-way-too-smart-for-his-own-good and with no military training whatsodamnever scientist-geek defeat a whole hell of a lot of shoot-first-and-don't-bother-asking-questions-later Jaffa?

Of all the stupid, asinine stunts he had pulled in his 25 years in the Air Force, Jack was disgustedly certain that this one went right to the top of the list -

Suddenly he found himself facing one murderous ancient Egyptian priest, his features twisted in rage and wielding a club already dripping with blood.

O'Neill stopped in his tracks. If Daniel hadn't been directly behind him he would have taken an instinctive step back from the fire in those black eyes. For a split second he feared he was going to have to pull the trigger to stop the advancing figure, then Daniel snapped out something as he moved up beside his C.O.

Esamenope stopped, his blazing eyes darting from one to the other, and the archeologist continued to speak rapidly. Jack gave them a few seconds before he gestured sharply with his weapon.

"We're too exposed out here," he warned. "We need to get to cover."

Daniel nodded and said something to the priest, who turned without a word and led them back into the shrine. They waited tensely while Esamenope opened the secret entry to the stairs, then raced down them and back to the cavern.

As they reached the entrance, Jack immediately turned back to the archeologist. "So how do we get to the Stargate from here?" he demanded.

Daniel raised a wait-a-minute finger as he continued his rapid, low-voiced conversation with the priest. O'Neill waited impatiently, his hands tightly gripping his MP-5 while his ears strained for any sounds from above. The explosions had stopped and although he knew there was no way voices could carry down here, in his imagination he could see and hear what he knew was still happening in the village.

"All right, okay," Daniel said, nodding vigorously. Jack's eyes were instantly on him, then flicked to the priest who turned around and started back up the stairs.

"Where's he going?" he demanded.

Daniel stared after the priest as he disappeared from view. "He's going back up to fight."

"Out-numbered by at least eight to one? A club against staff weapons? Is he nuts? He'll be killed for sure."

The archeologist threw him a tormented look. "It's his village, his people. He's going to fight."

O'Neill shook his head regretfully but also in understanding. As much as he would like to have helped the old man, his responsibilities lay in another direction.

"So did he mention how we're supposed to get to the Stargate?"

"Yes, this way." Daniel led him back across the cavern, all the way back to the jar they had opened, where the roll of papyrus still lay on the ground.

"Damn it!" the archeologist snapped as he reached down and Jack stopped him.

"We don't have time, Daniel."

"But, Jack, I can't just leave this here, like this - "

"Sam and Teal'c may be in trouble, not to mention we've got a whole bunch of the local folks we're hoping to rescue before they're dragged through the Stargate. We don't have time!"

Daniel recognized the truth of his C.O.'s words, but everything within him rebelled at the thought of leaving this priceless piece of history exposed and unprotected. Not to mention all of the other scrolls that he had removed and set aside - he swallowed in bitter frustration.

Was he willing to sacrifice Sam or Teal'c to save these scrolls?

The instant the thought leaped into his mind Daniel knew his answer. Without another word he turned away and, focusing his flashlight, began searching for the symbol that Esamenope told him would be at the junction of the walls.

And there it was, at knee-height, barely visible. Daniel's searching fingers felt the symbol carved into the rock before he saw it, a crude outline of a bird in flight. The same symbol that appeared at the junction of the walls up in the shrine.

Remembering the priest's instructions, he touched the outline carefully, in sequence, while he murmured the eons-old prayer.

Then Jack was yanking him back as, with a long, drawn-out, rumble-grumble, a slab of the wall slowly dragged back, disappearing behind the main wall and revealing an opening perhaps five feet tall and two feet wide.

Deja vu.

Anticipating this time, O'Neill grabbed Daniel's shoulder a split-second before the younger man started forward.

"Hold it," he snapped as he glared suspiciously at the inoffensive opening.

"Jack - "

"Daniel!"

The archeologist sighed but made no further protest. He watched as his C.O. leaned forward cautiously, gave the opening a quick but comprehensive look, then bent down and stepped warily through.

Daniel waited impatiently for permission to follow. Since they couldn't save the scrolls, he wanted to be out of here, out where they might be able to save Sam and Teal and, he prayed, the villagers.

He swallowed at the thought of his teammates. It was impossible to imagine that the Jaffa could have been taken by surprise. But Sam had little experience with traveling through the Stargate. There was no telling -

"Come on, Daniel." Though spoken quietly, O'Neill's words echoed loudly.

Immediately Daniel was moving through the opening, then dropped to his knees to find the corresponding symbol on this side of the wall -

Quickly, the archeologist repeated the sequence and he had barely finished repeating the prayer before the slab of stone rumbled back into place.

Daniel stood up cautiously and was relieved to discover that the tunnel ceiling was perhaps six and a half feet high. They would be able to walk upright at least.

Apart from their two flashlights, darkness surrounded them. But the dim light was enough to confirm what Daniel's sense of touch had already revealed. The walls of the underground tunnel were perfectly smooth, unnaturally smooth.

As if reading his mind, Daniel heard Jack say, "No way in hell could these people with their technology have created this."

"They didn't," Daniel said quietly.

"How do you know?"

"The papyrus. It's a long story."

"Then tell me later. This tunnel goes to the Stargate?"

"To the base of the plateau. I'm not sure but I think there may be another path - hidden inside the plateau - that goes up to the top."

"Then let's go."

Daniel followed Jack's tall figure, his thoughts torn between what was happening above them, the ancient scrolls left unprotected in the cavern, and exactly what he needed to tell his C.O. about what to expect when they got to the temple in the cave on top of the plateau.

"Shit!"

Daniel started, surprised from his thoughts. "Jack, what's - oh!"

He had been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed. But just as had happened in the cave up on the plateau, the walls and ceiling of the tunnel had begun to give off a soft light.

Thanks to the increased light, they could now better see the tunnel - ceiling, floor and both sides were perfectly smooth. And the tunnel itself appeared to lead them straight forward with no turns as far as they could see.

"Damn," Daniel heard Jack mutter.

The archeologist could sympathize. The tunnel had obviously been created by advanced technology. And Daniel had a good idea of who had created it. He didn't know if Jack would be interested in knowing who. But he had no doubt that his C.O. would be vitally interested to knowing why.

When Daniel had begun deciphering the ancient account of how the people had first come to this world, he had been stunned to discover that the 'unnamed gods' had provided a way for the people to protect themselves. And then he had discovered that the protection was two-fold . . . and immediately realized his own ethical dilemma.

At first he had feared that the ancient temple on the plateau offered the power that had destroyed the pyramid. But further translation had dissipated this fear, only to raise another.

He had wanted so much to protect this world from being contaminated by outside forces. And the ancient tale had given him a way to do just that. Providing it still worked. Providing he could figure it out.

Providing Jack allowed it.

If he told Jack only that there was a way to stop the Jaffa from ever using the Stargate, Daniel was pretty sure the man would tell him to do it. Except they would have to find a way to protect Teal'c from the effects of what - if he had translated the proto-hieroglyphics correctly - the archeologist suspected was some kind of shield.

But the shield wouldn't only target the Jaffa.

Daniel rubbed his eyes and tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. That was one of the aspects he wasn't sure of - how comprehensive, how devastating the shield's effects would be.

He knew Jack needed to know everything that the archeologist had discovered. But if he told him everything, Daniel feared the older man's reaction.

The fates had answered his desperate, unspoken plea by giving him a way to protect this world. Never again would its inhabitants have to fear the ravages of the Gou'ald or other intruders. Netnebu and the others could rest peacefully in their eternal sleep and Kebu and the rest of the villagers could live freely, in peace and happiness, to develop naturally as nature intended.

How could he not use the gift he had been given?

But Jack O'Neill trusted him. He had accepted him as part of his team, trusting that he would do what was necessary to protect the team. And he had trusted the younger man with a piece of his heart, accepting him into his life, opening himself up to Daniel as he hadn't dared to do with anyone since he lost his son.

How could Daniel betray that trust?

What in the hell was she doing?

The useless thought ricocheted fruitlessly around inside Sam Carter's head as she clung to some roots growing out the wall of the plateau. She noticed with more than a little concern that the roots were breaking away, one by one. Any minute she was going to lose her hold and plunge straight down. Considering that she was still a good thirty feet from the ground, Sam felt this was not a good thing.

Sam made a silent promise to herself - if she survived her current situation, she was going to kill a certain Jaffa.

Providing the Colonel didn't kill her first.

Her eyes darted above, sideways and below, searching desperately for another foot- or handhold. But there was nothing that would hold her weight. Just as this dismal conclusion crossed her mind, she caught her breath at the sight of the last of the roots breaking free.

And she was falling.

Sam clawed frantically at the rapidly passing wall of rock but there was nothing to break her fall.

The weight of her pack was pulling her inexorably over backwards and, stuck in free-fall, Sam twisted and contorted her body, trying to counteract gravity.

Her hands struck and instinctively curled around a half-revealed massive chunk of stone, looking as if it was growing out of the plateau wall.

With all of her strength, Sam wrapped her arms around the rough stone, and her body came to a jerking stop that nearly tore her shoulders from their sockets.

Pain erupted up her arms and exploded in her shoulders.

But she hung on.

Considering the alternative, she had no choice.

Dislocated shoulders were a small price to pay in order to continue breathing.

Gasping for breath, badly shaken, Sam hung on the rock outcropping, closing her eyes to block out the revolving scenery. She didn't know how much time passed before it felt safe to open her eyes so that she could assess her situation.

Though still intense, the pain was no longer threatening to tip her over into unconsciousness. And the landscape was no longer turning cartwheels. Both positive steps in the right direction.

But most amazing of all, when Sam finally looked down to get an idea of where she was, she was stunned to see that the ground was almost within reach. Maybe ten more feet before she was back on terra firma.

Without hope, she studied her immediate surroundings, only to find what she expected. Except for the rock to which she was currently clinging, the wall was smooth down here, with nothing for an opportunistic hand or foot to grasp.

Taking a deep breath and sending up a brief prayer in case anyone was listening, Sam released her hold and plummeted down again, curling into a ball as she fell.

This time the fall was brief. She hit the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs in a whoosh, but her position automatically sent her rolling forward, which was exactly what she had hoped would happened.

It felt like forever before Sam stopped rolling and lay still, panting for breath while her body throbbed unrelentingly.

But her training did not allow her to remain still for long. Forcing her aching head up, Sam realized that she had been extremely fortunate. If she had hit the ground just a few feet over she would have landed squarely on a massive pile of broken stone, remnants from the destroyed pyramid above.

The breath she was just beginning to regain escaped her in a gasp of relief. Reaching around for her MP-5, Sam gripped it firmly, then winced and looked at her bleeding hands. Damn. She flexed her fingers experimentally and winced again. She knew she needed to clean the cuts and scrapes and bandage the worst ones. But there was no time. Gripping her weapon more gingerly, she struggled to climb back on her feet.

It took two tries before Sam finally managed to stagger upright, and her still-shaky legs warned her to move cautiously. She cast a wary eye around but the naturally rocky terrain, enhanced by massive mounds of broken stone, did not give her much to see. It was both protection and hindrance and Sam knew she needed more intel, as fast as possible.

Sam took one look up the sheer wall of the plateau, shuddered at the realization that she had just come down it, more or less in one piece, and hastily turned her gaze elsewhere. At least she could be fairly confident no one was going to follow her down this way.

Trying to ignore her body's painful complaints over its recent mistreatment, particularly the relentless throbbing of her abused shoulders and shredded fingers, Sam focused on the reason for her original insane decision to climb down the side of that damn plateau.

First item on the agenda - to find a certain soon-to-be-dead Jaffa.

Unbeknownst to Sam, Teal'c had already reached the opposite side of the plateau, and crouched in the shelter of the rocks, only yards from the ancient path they had used just the day before.

His heart beat faster in anticipation while he waited, every sense alert. The sight of another patrol of Jaffa coming out of the village, herding a bunch of shocked, weeping hostages before them, had not surprised him. The most obvious reason they would come to this world would be to harvest humans for potential hosts. More than one patrol would be needed in order to gather a large enough number to make this raid worthwhile to Apophis.

When the original patrol - of which Shak'l was a part - had met up with the one coming from the village, Teal'c had expected the original patrol to head off to one of the other villages that Daniel Jackson had told them existed along the river. But instead the two patrols had joined forces and headed back toward the plateau.

Teal'c had watched this unexpected action, his mind racing as he considered the possible reasons for this change in tactics. To have so many Jaffa guarding such a relatively small number of prisoners was - ordinarily - a waste of one's forces.

Although he didn't understand their reasoning, it didn't matter. That the two patrols had joined forces meant that he would have to battle twice as many foes as he had originally expected. That didn't matter either. Shak'l was getting closer to him with each passing moment.

Only one thought gave him pause.

His enhanced senses had enabled him to identify the villagers long before humans could have done so. Teal'c recognized a number of the younger people from the meal they had eaten at Mehtetweshket's home last night. Several bore the marks of blows, several were weeping, all appeared to be stunned into near-insensibility at the sudden horror that had overtaken their lives.

As First Prime of Apophis, Teal'c would have been required to disregard the humans. Only Apophis' desires mattered and the deaths of potential hosts were meaningless in comparison with fulfilling Apophis' desires.

But unlike his brethren, the Jaffa was no longer a slave to false gods. The lives of these villagers must matter to him or else Teal'c would prove that he was no better than the still-enslaved Jaffa.

As he studied the approaching figures, Teal'c resolved that he would be his best to avoid injuring any of the prisoners. But his first responsibility was to Daniel Jackson and the vow he had made to the young Tau'ri.

Teal'c settled into position, his hands gripping his staff weapon with the ease of long familiarity.

Even though periodic glimpses of his wristwatch confirmed that they were moving more swiftly through the tunnel than they had while crossing the desert yesterday morning, O'Neill still felt as if they had been walking through this damn tunnel forever.

He had tried three times to contact Carter and Teal'c, without success. Jack figured the radio signal wouldn't penetrate the earth above them, at least he hoped that was the reason. He was more than an hour overdue for a radio check and his 2IC had to be concerned. She and Teal'c should still be on top of the plateau but it was possible that - unable to contact their teammates - they had decided to head back to the village. It would be a violation of his orders but the situation had definitely changed. Either way, Jack could only hope they hadn't had a too-close encounter with the Jaffa patrol.

Although this tunnel might be a faster and safer way back to the plateau, O'Neill hated every step of it. They were totally blind down here, blind and deaf, with no way of knowing what in the hell was happening up on the surface.

He was constantly fighting the temptation to break into a all-out run in an effort to get this damn tunnel over with. But - even apart from his injuries - he knew better. Keeping Daniel at his side, Jack alternated between rapid marches and short sprints. Though it didn't feel like it, he knew they were covering ground almost as quickly as if they had been in a full run, and this way they wouldn't be breathless and exhausted at the end.

O'Neill dared not let his thoughts linger too long on what might be happening above their heads. It was too easy for his imagination to run riot. He couldn't do anything down here except make sure that he and Daniel got through the tunnel as quickly as possible. Once they were topside again, he would deal with whatever they found then.

But while Jack was trying not to think about whatever might be going on above ground, he couldn't miss his companion's tension. At first he had put it down to normal fear for his teammates. Fear and, probably - although SG-1 had only been on this little a little more than 24 hours - a large helping of grief for Netnebu and the other villagers.

O'Neill was sorry for what had happened to the village, too. But despite his desire to help these people, he was nowhere near as invested in them as the archeologist. He had seen how quickly and deeply Daniel made friends before on Abydos. And he had seen it happening again here in the last day. The kid wore his heart on his sleeve, which probably had something to do with why the villagers had accepted them so quickly. Again, Jack thought wryly, much like Abydos.

But for all its benefits, wearing your heart on your sleeve had a definite downside. Especially when it meant having to watch someone you liked hurt or, worse, die.

So it made sense for Daniel to be unusually quiet and withdrawn.

But as they moved from quick march to sprint and back again, over and over as they traveled through the seemingly unending tunnel, Jack gradually began to sense that something else was going on with the archeologist. There was something . . . some other emotion, gripping the younger man. It wasn't fear . . . it wasn't grief . . . it wasn't anything he could grasp and identify.

But it sure as hell was something.

"Any idea how much longer?" Jack said abruptly.

They had traveled in silence for some time and his voice made him wince. It not only seemed unnaturally loud but it echoed down the tunnel.

But Daniel reacted far more strongly, starting so badly he stumbled and nearly fell.

Jack caught his arm and yanked him back upright, swallowing a gasp of pain when his ribs protested, holding on until the archeologist had regained his footing.

"Th - thanks, Jack," Daniel said, looking at his feet as he spoke.

O'Neill stared at the younger man in growing perplexity. What in the hell was going on with him? He knew a direct question would only get one of those damn 'I'm fine' responses and he didn't think his temper could take it at this point.

His mind turned back to the events of the morning. Daniel had seemed perfectly normal, up until the time they first found themselves in the underground cavern. Excited out of his gourd at being face to face with thousands of years of this planet's history. But based on his brief but intense friendship with the archeologist, that was probably standard behavior.

Daniel had seemed pretty preoccupied while he struggled to translate what O'Neill gathered was ancient and obscure language, but he had put that down to the tunnel vision the kid habitually fell into whenever his attention was caught by anything old.

Jack cast a surreptitious glance at his companion. Daniel was staring straight ahead while he walked and chewing on his lower lip hard enough that his C.O. expected it to start bleeding any time.

Something was going on with the younger man and O'Neill was beginning to get an uneasy feeling that it was something that he needed to know.

Looking again at the dimly lit tunnel ahead of them, his attention quickened. The light was different up ahead.

"Daniel," he said quietly.

The archeologist glanced at him then ahead again and Jack realized that though Daniel had been staring straight ahead, he really hadn't been paying attention to what he was seeing.

"This may be the end," Jackson said, equally quiet.

And he was right. The closer they got the more obvious it was - they were running out of tunnel. A blank wall faced them.

Instinctively, O'Neill slowed as they neared it, one hand grasping Daniel's arm so he didn't get ahead. He looked it up and down, searching for something, anything, but it was perfectly blank. Then Daniel knelt down, his head reaching out.

"Daniel!"

"It's all right, Jack, see?"

O'Neill grunted in acknowledgement. There it was again at knee level, the figure of a bird, carved into the smooth stone. He waited while the archeologist went through the same rigmarole as before. The instant he heard the rumble-grumble of stone sliding against stone, he pulled Daniel back.

As the once hidden, now visible stone door slid open, it revealed a staircase going up in a vertical continuation of the tunnel.

Jack eyed the staircase suspiciously. Unlike the stairs that led from the shrine down to the cavern, these stairs were perfectly, unnaturally, formed, evidence that they belonged to this unnatural tunnel.

"Jack?"

O'Neill glanced at the archeologist who was watching him curiously. "Yeah," he said shortly. As he moved toward the staircase, Daniel said,

"Maybe I should go first - "

Daniel take point? Jack rolled his eyes at the thought, even though he knew the archeologist couldn't see his expression since he was still behind him.

"I got it," he said.

Warily, trying to watch each step before he put his weight on it, Jack started to climb the staircase. The walls of the tunnel closed around him as he moved upward until they almost brushed his shoulders and he had to lean forward slightly so that the back of his pack didn't drag against the wall behind him. He had to fight a sudden, uncharacteristic surge of claustrophobia, trying very hard to avoid the thought that he was a sitting duck if anyone happened to come at him from above.

The long silence in the tunnel had heightened his senses and now Jack was very aware of the sounds of his breathing as he climbed. He could feel gravity pulling at his pack, pulling him backwards even while he was leaning forward, a position that added to the strain on his legs. The impact of his boots on each stone stair echoed loudly in the narrow space and he could only hope that no hostiles were within hearing range.

He could hear Daniel below him. He figured that the archeologist wasn't even thinking about trying to be quiet but it didn't matter. Neither of them were making that much noise and they couldn't really do anything about the noise they were making.

The muscles in his legs were burning when O'Neill realized they had reached the end of this part of the tunnel. The staircase ended just below a flat, featureless slab of stone. As he ran his flashlight over it, Jack suddenly realized that he had made a mistake.

There, at the lower corner of the slab, he saw the now-familiar carving of a bird.

This was why Daniel had suggested he go first.

O'Neill closed his eyes briefly, overwhelmed with frustration and a sudden desire to get out of this damn tunnel. It took a moment to quell his unruly emotions and only when they were under control again, did he say quietly,

"Daniel, you need to tell me how to get this open."

He really had no choice. The narrowness of the staircase would not permit two people to share space, so Jack couldn't change places with the archeologist. Nor was he about to make them climb all the way back down these damn stairs so that Daniel could precede him back up the staircase. Besides, when they got through this damn roof, he wanted to be the first one to poke his head out. Just in case some not-so-friendly types were prowling around topside.

This was the only way.

Daniel was silent for a moment but the argument O'Neill had been expecting didn't come. When the younger man finally spoke, he sounded weary and - Jack frowned - apathetic.

"It's a sequence, Jack. You have to touch different parts of the carving while you offer a prayer to the unnamed gods."

"Okay, let's go over it a few times. I want to be sure I get this right in case there's some kind of booby trap if I get it wrong." The thought had just come to O'Neill and didn't make him feel at all comfortable.

Learning the sequence was simple enough; wrapping his tongue around a bunch of incomprehensible sounds was not.

Three times he tried and failed to repeat the sounds that Daniel spoke and finally he raised a hand to stop the archeologist.

"Just a minute," he growled.

Focus, O'Neill, he demanded to himself. With all his might, he mentally shoved aside his frustration and fear for the missing members of his team, emotions that had steadily intensified over the past hour until now the pulse in his temple was pounding so hard that it felt like his head was about to explode.

The best way to help his team right now was by wrapping his mind around an ancient language he had never bothered to try to learn, not even a few words. He hadn't bothered because - you are a grade-A jackass, O'Neill - he'd always had Daniel Jackson, linguist extraordinaire, around for that.

He sure as hell was paying for that screw-up now. Deservedly so, Jack had to admit. But he damn sure didn't want his team paying for it, too.

He couldn't screw this up. He had to get it right for his team's sake.

Okay. One more time.

Jack took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. And did it again. Then he looked up at the carving just inches from his face and positioned his right hand, while with his left he kept the flashlight shining steadily on that small figure some had cut into the stone millennia ago.

"All right, Daniel," he said quietly. "Give it to me again."

Equally quietly, enunciating carefully, Daniel repeated the ancient prayer. O'Neill echoed the words, touching the applicable part of the carving at the end of each phrase. As the last word left his mouth, Jack's fingers gently brushed across the entire carving and then quickly pulled away.

For an instant that lasted a lifetime nothing happened. O'Neill suddenly realized that he was holding his breath but wasn't sure if he dared letting it out. Then he was ducking so fast he almost lost his balance on the stairs.

Above his head a square of light suddenly appeared. Sunlight.

There had been no rumble-grumble of stone moving this time. One second, their exit was blocked. The next second, a neatly squared hole was above them.

As badly as Jack wanted to look, the brilliant sunlight after an hour underground in a dimly-lit tunnel was too much. He had to look away, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden pain, hoping desperately that no immediate threat loomed above them.

After a dangerously long minute, his eyes adjusted and O'Neill stepped slowly, cautiously, up out of the tunnel and onto firm ground.

His first immediate thought was that Netnebu and Esamenope had delivered in spades. The plateau rose up out of the ground less than ten feet away, its walls climbing up, up and disappearing high above them.

He heard Daniel scrabbling up the last step and did a quick three-sixty to make sure no one else was around. But it was impossible to be sure. There was no one in the immediate vicinity, but the terrain was rocky, made even more so by huge mounds of crumbled stone that had fallen eons ago from the destroyed pyramid above.

But the hair on the back of his neck rose as he smelled . . .

He grabbed the archeologist and shoved him face down to the ground, falling on top of him even as he raised his MP-5.

Sonofabitch! They'd come out right into a firefight!

Hard on the heels of the thought a staff weapon fired, dangerously close. But not, Jack realized, in his direction.

An MP-5 resounded, also very close, immediately followed by another staff blast, which triggered a whole hell of a lot of more staff weapons.

Shit!

Just as he had feared might happen, the missing members of his team had come down off of the plateau in search of their C.O. and archeologist. That had to be Carter's weapon. He just hoped one of those staff weapons belonged to Teal'c.

O'Neill raised his head just high enough to take another quick look around, but with his head lifted, he had a better sense of where the weapons were being fired.

He gave Daniel's arm a fierce yank and when the archeologist looked at him, gestured toward some massive boulders just yards away. On his belly, trying to keep his weapon out of the dirt, Jack crawled over to the boulders and, as he pressed his way around them, found that they provided some solid cover, a small rocky nest.

Squirming over, he made room for Daniel as the younger man crawled in after him.

Weapons fire was now sounding continuously from around the east side of the plateau. Even though they were on the south side, the noise was still too loud for normal conversation to be heard.

O'Neill was cursing a blue streak, albeit silently. If everything had been quiet, he would have had Daniel looking for the stairwell that the archeologist believed existed. They could then have hopefully beaten the Jaffa and their captives up to the top of the plateau where Carter and Teal'c *should've* been waiting for them. At that point, they might have been able to come up with a plan to free the villagers.

But all the thinking and planning he had done while marching through that fucking tunnel was useless now. Carter and, most likely, Teal'c had come down off the plateau and were now in the midst of an all-out battle with the Jaffa.

Damn, he hoped Carter and Teal'c were okay. He really didn't want any Jaffa interfering with his new plan - to murder both his 2IC and their newest alien recruit just as soon as everyone was safe.

However . . . all might not be lost. From the sounds of things, everyone was involved in a pitched battle. The Jaffa were probably focused on Carter and Teal'c. Which meant a careful, sneaky, expert in Special Ops just might be able to creep up on them from behind.

"Stay here!" he snarled in Daniel's ear before turning away.

It was a tortuous, painful and agonizingly slow crawl from boulder to rocks to mounds of broken stone, until he had reached the southeastern corner of the plateau. During his journey, O'Neill had listened with gritted teeth to the sounds of the continuing battle. From time to time weapons fire diminished, but never for long. He was more relieved than he could say to hear the MP-5 occasionally adding its voice to the fray, although it was obvious Carter was now conserving her ammunition. Which was a good thing since they hadn't come prepared for a war.

O'Neill pulled himself upright against the face of the plateau as he prepared for his next move. Then the sound of footsteps startled him and he pressed back against the rough rock wall and reached for his knife. It sounded like only one person was moving toward him and, despite their stealthy efforts, the treacherous footing had given them away. Better a silent knife than gunfire that would bring a whole hell of a lot of unfriendlies on top of him.

Jack waited tensely, every nerve alert, as he heard the Jaffa coming closer -

He lunged, one hand closing over the enemy's mouth while he jerked up the knife -

and barely stopped himself from slashing Carter's throat.

Fury surged through O'Neill and he jerked her with him as he moved swiftly back, back, until he thought it was safe to stop for a moment.

Only then did he drop his hand from her mouth. "What the fuck are you doing down here!" he snarled, fighting to keep his voice down.

She stated at him with huge eyes, obviously shaken. "Sir . . ." she whispered tremulously, then swallowed convulsively.

But in those couple of seconds, O'Neill had shoved down his fury. They had no time for this now. He opened his mouth to speak only to snap it shut at the sight of the red gloves she was wearing. Except they weren't gloves. Her hands were a bloody mess.

"Captain?" he demanded.

The dazed look left his 2IC's eyes and she straightened. Following his gaze to her hands, Sam shook his head.

"It's all right, sir. Just superficial cuts." She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. "Sir, Teal'c and I have engaged more than twenty Jaffa who are holding an unknown number of hostages. Teal'c just identified another Jaffa patrol heading toward the plateau and I was moving to a better position in order to engage . . .

While he listened, O'Neill's mind was racing through the information he was receiving. Later, he would read the riot act to the members of his team. Right now, he had to get them out of this.

What most chilled his blood was the change in their odds. In the village, he had assumed they were dealing with a single Jaffa patrol. But it sounded like Carter and Teal'c were already battling at least two patrols and now another one would soon be joining the fray.

Not to mention the hostages, caught between unrelenting fire from both sides.

He spared a second to silently curse his lack of knowledge of Jaffa tactics. He had gone over standard battle tactics of the Gou'ald with Teal'c but clearly he still had a lot to learn.

"Sir!" Staring over his shoulder, Carter's eyes suddenly widened and O'Neill immediately spun around to face this new threat.

"Oh, for - Daniel!"

Standing out in the open in full view of anyone who might poke their head around the corner of the plateau, completely unprotected, Daniel was running his hands over the rock wall at approximately knee height.

Sonofabitch - his entire team needed keepers!

As Jack raced toward the archeologist, one part of his mind knew what the younger man was doing. But to disregard orders and leave cover, with absolutely no disregard for his safety -

Daniel took a step back, smiling as he turned toward his C.O. But his expression changed with ludicrous speed at the sight of the infuriated Colonel charging down on him. Immediately he jumped forward into the rock wall of the plateau - except he went straight through it and disappeared inside.

Shit!

An instant after the archeologist disappeared, O'Neill reached the exact spot where he had disappeared from. With absolutely no surprise he found himself facing a large opening in the plateau wall. And inside, lit by the backwash of the flashlight, he saw Daniel turning in a slow circle as he took in his surroundings.

"Jack, there are stairs in here."

O'Neill spared a moment to drag in a huge lungful of air, resisting an overwhelming desire to curse at the top of his lungs or rip out his hair or carry out any other stress-relieving activity. Instead he gestured sharply at his 2IC. When she reached him, he snapped, "The staircase in here is supposed to go all the way to the top of the plateau. You and Daniel get moving. I'll get Teal'c and we'll follow you up."

"But, sir - "

"Now, Captain!" he snarled.

She jumped at his tone. Throwing him a crisp - "Yes, sir!" she immediately moved into the cave.

O'Neill waited just long enough to see her reach the archeologist's side before he headed back around the side of the plateau. At this moment he had just one thing in mind - to grab Teal'c and disappear inside the base of the plateau before another Jaffa patrol showed up.

He was hoping it would be a quick peek around the rock wall, instantly spotting Teal'c who would be nice and close by, catching his attention and a quick retreat.

But the instant O'Neill peeked was the same instant he realized that they were up shit creek without a paddle.

The third Jaffa patrol had arrived and Teal'c, forced to retreat behind a small mountain of destroyed stone, was surrounded.

SG-1 was definitely having a bad day.

Daniel knew his C.O. was still furious with him and though he regretted it, he couldn't see that he'd had any choice. They had barely climbed out of the tunnel before Jack threw him on the ground, and he immediately realized why. What sounded like a small war was going on frighteningly close to their position. After the first shock, the archeologist recognized that the weapons fire was coming from the side of the plateau where they had come down yesterday, via that ancient path. There was no way they were going to be able to go back up that path.

Which meant that Daniel had to trust the old priest's last words, that he would find the way into the side of the plateau if he walked at a 90 degree angle from the tunnel exit to the plateau wall. And sure enough, digging around at knee level he uncovered an ancient carving of a bird. He barely had time to run through the sequence, see a six-foot-high and two-feet-wide section of the wall disappear, then duck inside when he saw one livid Colonel bearing down on him.

But just as quickly Jack disappeared again and Sam rushed in. Daniel was horrified by the state of her shredded hands but she brushed off his concern and pushed him toward the staircase.

"No, Sam! I have to shut the opening or the Jaffa will just follow us."

So they waited. Daniel didn't know about Sam but his heart was in his mouth the whole time. He quickly located the bird carving inside the cave wall that he had expected to find, but then he had to kneel in the darkness, waiting and hoping, fighting the fear that kept trying to take control.

As they waited, what Daniel now expected happened again. Slowly, faintly, the darkness receded before a dim light that lessened their need for flashlights. The archeologist gazed around the cave that housed the staircase but there was nothing to see. The faint glow seemed to come from every direction, out of the very rock.

"What the - " Sam spared a brief moment to look around, her eyes wide with wonder, before immediately turning her attention back to the entrance to the cave.

"Daniel, what is this?"

"I don't know for sure, Sam. But I believe it has to do with the advanced race that brought these people to this planet."

"What!"

But there was no time for a discussion. She suddenly stiffened, yelled at Daniel - "Get ready!" - and pressed herself against the side of the entrance.

Jack and Teal'c suddenly exploded into the cave, ducking to avoid the energy blasts following them through.

Instantly, Daniel was running through the sequence, repeating the prayer as fast as he could, praying it wasn't too fast.

And the entrance was gone, replaced by rock.

O'Neill was breathing hard, one hand pressed against his side and blood running down the side of his face.

"Jack, you're wounded!"

But his C.O. shook his head. " 'm okay," he said shortly, then glared at Sam.

"Carter, what the hell are you two still doing down here?"

"Sir, Daniel had to close the entrance behind you."

Hard on the heels on her words an explosion boomed just outside the cave and Jack eyed the wall of rock uneasily.

"Teal'c, how long do you think it'll take for a staff weapon to break through?"

"I don't think it will, Jack."

O'Neill glared at the archeologist. "Why not?"

Daniel gestured, his hand taking in the entire cave. "Because this isn't an ordinary cave. It was created, just like the tunnel that led us here." He looked at his C.O. "There's no time to go into it now, but I think the same race that destroyed the pyramid on top of the plateau also created the tunnel and this staircase. I think it'll take a lot more than a staff weapon to break into this room."

For it was a room, despite its cave-like appearance.

Jack threw a quick look around the room and nodded briefly. "Okay," then grimaced as he looked at the steep staircase.

"I'll take point, Teal'c, watch our six."

And they began the long ascent.

There was nothing to do but climb, putting one foot after another as they moved steadily up the inside of the plateau. Daniel would have been fascinated and overwhelmed with curiosity if not for their grim situation and the anguished thoughts that would not leave him alone.

From the moment Jack had first alerted him to the Jaffa invading the village, Daniel felt as if he had been re-living his worst nightmare, with a great many new nightmares thrown in.

Sneaking out of the shrine to discover that many of the younger residents were being rounded up by the Jaffa while the other villagers and the town itself was being destroyed . . .

Finding Netnebu dying, his last words a prayer that they would save his people . . .

Rushing back to the shrine with an angry, resistant Jack because Daniel was certain the dying scribe had told him of a faster way to the plateau . . .

Nearly being killed by - or Jack nearly killing - an enraged Esamenope who had paused long enough to confirm Netnebu's words, only to rush away from them, bent on a suicide mission . . .

It was Abydos all over again. Only worse.

Discovering the Jaffa attacking the village, seeing the round-up of the innocent, terrified people, finding Netnebu dying, had brought his worst memories flooding back - memories of the day Jack had come back to Abydos and Daniel had lost everyone and everything he loved - Sha're, Ska'ara, his life on Abydos.

The memories flowed together, from Abydos and now Kemet, memories that continued to run through his mind on an unending loop.

And he couldn't escape the thought that the Jaffa had attacked unnervingly soon after SG-1 had come through this planet's Stargate. Coincidence? He didn't believe it but he didn't know how it could be otherwise.

But despite the turmoil of his thoughts, Daniel was all too aware of their situation. They had to get up to the top of the plateau before the Jaffa and their hostages, had to get into the temple in the cave, had to - Daniel - had to figure out the hieroglyphics in order to turn on the weapon, the shield - whatever it was - to keep the Jaffa from going through the Stargate. Or ever coming back through it again.

Daniel's heart pounded harder at the thought. He was pretty certain that the shield would somehow kill the Gou'ald symbiotes the Jaffa were carrying. And without their symbiotes, the Jaffa would also die sooner or later. Perhaps immediately, if Daniel had translated a particularly difficult phrase correctly. But either way, the Jaffa would die. He knew it and the thought sickened him. Teal'c had discovered the truth about the Gou'ald. Who was to say some of these Jaffa might not do the same?

But an even more sickening thought was doing nothing and knowing all of the people of Kemet would eventually be killed or - worse - dragged off to be turned into hosts.

He couldn't see any way around it.

But what was he going to tell Jack? He had to tell him something. Teal'c would have to go through the Stargate before he turned on the weapon or his symbiote, too, would be killed.

Daniel fully intended to tell Jack about that problem, as soon as he translated the writing in the temple and knew exactly what they were dealing with.

But the fact that the weapon - shield - would turn the Stargate into a locked door that no one, not Jaffa, not human, could ever come through again - the archeologist feared Jack's reaction to that critical bit of information. After all, they now knew this planet contained the mineral that made up Stargates, as well as some other unknown mineral that had so excited Sam.

Although Daniel knew nothing about military thinking he was certain that the SGC would want more of the minerals. But surely, surely not at the expense of the inhabitants of this planet!

In the midst of Daniel's uncertainty and apprehension was a distracting, ever-growing concern for his C.O. The thought made him look up. Immediately above Daniel, Sam was climbing steadily. Just above her, Jack continued to ascend the steep stone staircase at a dogged pace.

Daniel knew that Jack was hurting a lot more than he would admit. It was nothing obvious but more a matter of the older man's body language. He had reluctantly confessed to some bruises this morning - had it only been this morning? - when they had all been around to notice how stiff he was. But he had also dismissed the possibility that it was anything serious. And they had allowed the subject to be dropped, Daniel thought with chagrin.

Except, he realized, they hadn't really allowed the subject to be dropped. Jack had dropped it, and in such a way that Sam and Teal'c hadn't questioned him. Perhaps it was because they were soldiers, or "warriors" as Teal'c said. It might be as simple as being used to following orders, being used to not questioning their commanding officer.

Maybe it was because Sam and Teal'c didn't know Jack well. Maybe part of it had to do with the fact that they hadn't spent a lot of time in Jack's presence. But Daniel had been literally beside his C.O. since they arrived on this planet. That fact, plus the fact that, as an archeologist, he was used to noticing small, apparently insignificant facts that other people would disregard or overlook.

For whatever combination of reasons, Daniel had noticed. And despite the insanity of the day he had watched with growing concern the older man's increasing discomfort. This was more than bruises or stiff muscles.

But despite his desire to help, the archeologist hesitated. He knew instinctively that Jack would not react well if Daniel suggested they stop so that the man's injuries could be better assessed and treated. And despite the pain O'Neill had to be in, he was setting a stiff pace up the steep staircase in an effort to intercept the Jaffa before the hostages could be taken through the Stargate and lost forever.

As soon as they got to the top of the plateau, Daniel thought, he would have to tell his C.O. about the weapon/shield that could be activated from somewhere inside the temple. He was sure that Jack would jump on the idea.

But was he going to tell Jack the rest of the story?

Daniel still couldn't make up his mind.

Sweat dripped down his face and he took an irritable swipe at it. As much as he didn't want to think about whether he was betraying Jack's trust by withholding part of the truth, at least it helped to distract him from how miserable and exhausted he was. He recalled from their briefing that the plateau rose some 300 feet above the surface of the planet. How many stairs were required to take them up 300 feet? He didn't know but every overworked muscle in his legs and back was protesting that it was too many.

Daniel did his best to ignore the pain, to ignore the feeling that his body had turned into one throbbing ache . . . He had thought he was in good shape. He still thought he was, under ordinary circumstances. But behind him, he could hear Teal'c's even, effortless-sounding tread. In spite of the alien's own exertions today, not the least of had been engaging more than two dozen of his former warriors-in-arms in a fierce firefight, he suspected that Teal'c was just getting warmed up. In comparison to the Jaffa, the archeologist felt like an invalid.

But he felt even worse when he compared himself to Sam and an injured Jack, both of whom were moving steadily up the unending staircase, never breaking their stride. Daniel understood for the first time why his C.O. was always on his back about physical training. Being part of a first-contact team required a great deal more physical endurance than the ordinary day-to-day life of an archeologist.

What was he going to tell Jack when they got to the top of the plateau?

Jack stopped them once for a short breather. There was no conversation, just the sound of harsh breathing while everyone except Teal'c took a quick drink of water from their canteens. Before the burning in Daniel's muscles had begun to subside, they had to start moving again.

Daniel didn't know how much time passed before he began to feel as if they had always been here, climbing up through the inside of the plateau. The dim light was no longer a comfort because it revealed nothing other than unnaturally smooth stone surrounding them on all sides. He could not feel any kind of draft but the air remained fresh. The temperature was cool, very similar, the archeologist thought, to the temperature in the cavern below the shrine.

As quickly as that, his thoughts were filled with his fears for the villagers. Surely, the Jaffa hadn't killed everyone! No, no, he hastened to reassure himself. The Jaffa wouldn't casually destroy future hosts, would they? Any resistance would certainly be immediately put down. Daniel winced at the thought of Esamenope and his club. He hoped with all his heart that the old priest had someone survived. And Mehetweshket, too, although he suspected that she would probably have also done her best to fight the invaders. But the village would need as many of its elders as possible to help it to recover, to heal, to move on.

And they would also need back the young people of the village whom the Jaffa were even now probably forcing up the path on the other side of the plateau. Daniel's eyes closed briefly at the memory of little Kebu, screaming and struggling in the casual, brutal grip of a Jaffa. SG-1 had to save that little boy. Had to save all of the people from an unspeakable future. Whatever it took.

"Daniel."

The sound of his name, croaked out as it was, startled Daniel from the daze he had fallen into. As he blinked and looked around, the archeologist realized that he must have been on auto-pilot for awhile, following his team members up the stairs without really being aware of it. Sam had stopped just above him and Jack just above her.

They had reached the end of the staircase. Above Jack's head stretched out a smooth, impenetrable looking slab of stone.

Just like in the tunnel.

Jack called him again and Sam pressed herself against the wall. Though Daniel appreciated her action, it wasn't really necessary. This staircase was much broader than the one in the tunnel and he cautiously moved up past Sam, up to Jack's side. When he reached that top level, Daniel's first thought was one of concern for his C.O. who was frankly leaning against the wall. O'Neill's features were streaked with dirt and sweat, like the rest of his team, but it was his pallor, visible even in the dim light, that made Daniel catch his breath.

"Jack?" he said softly.

"Just get the damn thing open," O'Neill returned.

The naked weariness in his voice scared Daniel. Without a word he ran quickly through the sequence and an opening suddenly, silently, appeared in the stone slab above their heads. Daniel swallowed. This had opened as silently as the exit from the tunnel, both of which were very different from the rumble-grumble of moving stone walls in the shrine. But why the difference, he had no idea. And, he reminded himself, this wasn't the time to worry about it.

"It's dark up there so watch yourselves," O'Neill warned. "Get moving, Jackson."

For an instant Daniel hesitated, about to suggest that Jack go first. But a look into those dark brown eyes made him swallow the suggestion and climb swiftly upwards until he was free of the endless staircase.

Pitch blackness surrounded them and Daniel immediately turned on his flashlight and looked around. Along with recognition came relief. They had come out into the cave he and Jack had explored yesterday.

Moving closer to the walls, the flashlight picked up the hieroglyphics he had partially translated and videotaped yesterday. Daniel glanced over his shoulder but could see no sign of the opening in the wall that had led them into the smaller room. At least, no sign yet.

He heard the others climbing out but most of his attention was focused on recalling everything that had happened here yesterday. When he and Jack had come into the cave it had been pitch black, just as it was now. How long had he worked to translated the wall before that strange light began to glow? Daniel couldn't remember exactly. He had been too absorbed in the work to pay attention to time. Ten minutes? Fifteen? Maybe more? Certainly not much more than that because Jack had only allotted him a half hour before they had to leave and meet back up with Sam and Teal'c.

When had the opening in the wall first appeared? Daniel didn't know. But he suspected that the opening might coincide with the walls and ceiling of the cave beginning to throw out that dim light.

A sharp intake of breath behind him turned Daniel around. Sam was holding her weapon awkwardly, caught between her arm and her body, while trying to get her hands to grip it. Jack reached out and pulled the MP-5 away from her, leaning it against a wall.

"Teal'c," he said, his voice echoing in the chamber, "get out there and see how far up those Jaffa have come."

Without a sound, Teal'c vanished outside.

"Captain, sit down."

"Sir, we don't have time - "

"That wasn't a request, Carter," O'Neill snapped.

Reluctantly, she lowered herself to the floor of the cave and Jack knelt painfully beside her.

"Can I help?" Daniel said hesitantly.

"Yeah," O'Neill threw over his shoulder. "Tell me what the hell we're doing here."

Daniel hesitated, took a deep breath, and blew it out. "I think the other room, the one we were in yesterday, may be the temple, or at least the entrance to the temple, that the papyrus was talking about. Somewhere in that temple is a weapon, or at least a way to trigger a weapon, that will turn the Stargate into a Gou'ald-killer."

He had spoken with deliberate drama because he didn't want any misunderstanding. His words certainly got his C.O.'s attention as both Sam's and O'Neill's head jerked up. But the archeologist was watching Jack and when blazing brown eyes met his, Daniel knew the older man understood.

"It'll kill the snakes the Jaffa are carrying?"

Daniel nodded, his throat suddenly dry. To speak in pedantic terms about defending oneself was one thing. To talk about killing individuals . . . that was something else entirely. But he had an obligation to the people of this world. And to his team.

"The symbiotes, yes."

Thanks to the flashlights, Daniel could see Jack's eyes narrow. "How does it work?"

"I'm not sure. I believe that the weapon is actually a kind of shield that covers the event horizon. As best as I understand it, it targets any Gou'ald who comes or goes through the Stargate."

"Just the snakes?"

Daniel had been waiting for that. "The symbiotes, definitely. But there was a kind of a warning that makes me think it may also target anyone who carries a symbiote. And, possibly, anyone without a symbiote but who is in close physical proximity to a symbiote. That part is unclear. I may be wrong."

"Sir," Carter started, "that means Teal'c - "

"Yeah, I got that, Captain," O'Neill snapped. "So we send Teal'c home before we turn on the weapon."

Daniel closed his eyes briefly. He couldn't do it. He couldn't stay quiet. "Jack, I think there's another aspect to this shield."

"Such as?"

"I believe it's a secondary line of protection. When the shield is activated, it not only kills symbiotes and those in close contact to symbiotes, but it also blocks anyone else from coming or going through the Stargate."

Jack glared at him. "You said it just kills the snakes!"

"I'm not talking about killing - " Daniel stopped to gather his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I didn't have time to read through it all. I think the shield becomes some kind of an impenetrable force field. I'm extrapolating here but if I'm right, even apart from killing the Gou'ald, the shield will not permit anyone to come or go through the Stargate."

"Like our iris," Sam suggested. "Is it visible?"

Daniel gave a small shrug. "I'm guessing yes to the first and I don't know to the second. Does it matter?"

"Possibly," the astrophysicist said thoughtfully, then yelped and looked at her C.O. Jack had done a hasty job of disinfecting the scrapes and cuts on her fingers and palms and was now wrapping her torn-up hands.

Watching, Daniel felt a fresh surge of guilt. Jack needed medical care himself and instead the archeologist had been standing around gazing at the hieroglyphics while discussing the weapon he was going to try to turn on. Daniel winced at the thought. But he couldn't see that he had any choice. Except he wasn't sure how this would work. Hopefully, they could send Teal'c through the Stargate before they turned on the weapon, providing the archeologist could figure out how to do that. But then, once it was turned on, if Daniel's extrapolations were correct, no one else would be able to go through the Stargate, including the remaining members of SG-1.

Would it be possible to turn the weapon on long enough to stop the Jaffa, then turn it off so that SG-1 could go through? At this point, Daniel didn't know how the weapon worked. Worse, even if it was possible, if SG-1 turned off the weapon so that they could get back to the SGC, the weapon would remain off. The Gou'ald could come right back through the Stargate and continue to harvest all the people on this planet until there was no one left.

Teal'c needed to go through the Stargate before the shield was turned on. Jack and Sam were both injured. They needed to get back to the SGC. And even if they hadn't been injured, they would never want to stay here if they had a choice. They needed to go through before the weapon was turned on.

Daniel swallowed. But if he stayed behind, he could see the weapon was turned on and the world protected from the Gou'ald. Maybe, eventually, he could teach some of the villagers how to operate the weapon so that he could turn it off long enough to go through the Stargate and back to Earth, then it could be turned on again so that it would continue to protect Kemet.

Except if he taught any of the residents of Kemet how to use this advanced technology, he would be committing the very sin he was trying to prevent - contamination of this civilization by outside forces.

"O'Neill."

Everyone jumped and Jack swore. "Damn it, Teal'c, give a little warning before you sneak up like that."

The Jaffa stood in the entrance to the cave, almost blocking out all the sunlight. "The Jaffa patrols are more than half-way up the side of the plateau. Their progress appears to be slowed by their hostages. I estimate that they will be here in approximately a half hour."

"Shit." O'Neill climbed to his feet, wavering a bit when he got upright. But he turned away from Daniel's helping hand.

"So where in the hell is this weapon?" he demanded as he glared at the younger man.

"I'm not sure where the weapon is," Daniel admitted, "but I think the controls to the weapon are in the temple."

"And where in the hell is the temple?"

Despite the gravity of their situation, Daniel smiled and gestured. "Through there, I think," he pointed at the suddenly revealed entrance at the rear of the cave. Perfect timing, he thought, looking around to see the darkness of the cave receding under the growing glow coming from the walls and ceiling.

"Sir," Sam started, her voice soft and filled with awe as she gazed at the ceiling. "This technology is amazing - " she stopped abruptly as Teal'c approached her and extended his hand.

"Uh, thank you, Teal'c," she said as he lifted her effortlessly to her feet.

"You are welcome, Captain Carter." They locked eyes for a moment, then she looked back at their C.O.

"Sir, if I could just take a few minutes to examine - "

"We don't have a few minutes, Carter," O'Neill snapped. "Daniel, you take Carter and find the controls. When you've figured it out, we'll send Teal'c back first. Then - "

"O'Neill," the Jaffa interrupted. "I cannot leave while you - "

The Colonel spun around to face his teammate. "This time you follow orders!" he snarled. "Daniel, Carter, move! Radio me when you're ready with that thing. Teal'c and I are going to keep an eye on the patrols heading this way."

Jerking his head at the alien, O'Neill stalked out of the cave, silently followed by the Jaffa. Daniel gazed after him, feeling residual shivers from the look in their C.O.'s eyes. He pitied the patrols who would soon reach the top of the plateau. If Jack's expression had been any indication, he intended to tear every single one of the Jaffa apart with his bare hands.

A warrior-like attitude, the anthropologist in Daniel recognized. But something to be avoided, nonetheless, if at all possible.

"Daniel?" Sam said, and he turned quickly to her. The light was bright enough now for him to see the pain and discomfort in her expression, despite her efforts to hide it. Daniel squelched his desire to offer more aid. She needed him to focus on what they had to do.

"It's through here," the archeologist said.

He started forward but Sam stopped him. "Let me go first," she said quickly.

Daniel sighed to himself but obeyed. He watched as she disappeared into the smaller room and waited tensely, his hand brushing awkwardly against his pistol.

"Clear," Sam's voice drifted out to him and Daniel rushed in after her.

The room was just as he remembered, a little more than half the size of the outer room, empty except for the pedestal. Unlike the outer room, all the walls in here were bare of writing except for the wall in front of the pedestal. Though instinctively drawn to the hieroglyphics, Daniel hesitated. Was the secret of the temple to be found in the ancient writings that he loved, or should he be checking the walls for the familiar carving of a bird in flight?

"Daniel," Sam said as she moved slowly around the room, "what is this place?"

"I'm not certain," the archeologist admitted, "but if it's not the temple itself, then I think it may be the antechamber to the temple."

She frowned at him. "Like a waiting room?"

"Maybe. At this point, I'm just guessing."

Sam glanced around the dimly-lit cave. "We don't have much time, Daniel. What now?"

"I'm going to translate as much of this wall as I can," he said. "It may tell us exactly what we want to know. Could you please check the walls for any kind of carving of birds? If it's there, it should be around knee-high."

Sam nodded and immediately began exploring the walls. For his part, Daniel studied the hieroglyphics, his mind racing as he drew on a lifetime of study and knowledge, with a large helping of intuition, as he worked to translate the ancient writing as quickly and accurately as possible.

Lost in his work, he jumped when Sam reappeared beside him.

"Sorry," she apologized. "There's nothing on any of the walls."

"Then the key has to be here," Daniel muttered, "in these writings."

Carter looked toward the outer room. "If Teal'c's guess how long it would take the Jaffa to get up here is correct, then we only have about twenty minutes."

"I know," the archeologist said absently.

He felt her move away but was too engrossed in the hieroglyphics to realize that she had drifted over to the pedestal.

"Holy Hannah!"

Daniel started and looked around, only to see Sam giving him an apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said, "but I wasn't expecting that to suddenly appear on the wall."

That was the same alien symbol that Jack had called "one honkin' bar code" yesterday.

Her eyebrows rose at his expression. "This same thing happened yesterday, too?" Though it came out as a question, Daniel knew she meant it as a statement and nodded as he turned back to his work. He was getting close, he thought in rising excitement, mixed with new relief.

Just a few minutes ago he had feared that one of them would have to remain behind to turn on the shield again after everyone else had gone through, in order to protect this planet from future raids. He had thought he would be the best one to stay but he doubted Jack would have agreed. Yet the thought of Jack or Sam or Teal'c staying here for the rest of their lives had been inconceivable.

But now, if Daniel was translating properly, he realized that staying behind wouldn't be necessary. Timing would be critical. But if it had worked in the past - and it apparently had - then it would be possible.

It had to work.

As much as he wanted to hurry with the translation, Daniel repeatedly warned himself to go slow. He had already discovered that the shield was protected by at least one trap intended to ensnare the unwary and he couldn't afford to overlook any other obscure warnings -

"Daniel?"

The archeologist was tempted to ignore Sam except there was an odd note in her voice. Frustrated and impatient he turned around again to see her standing in front of the pedestal, gazing at it as if it held the secrets of the universe.

"What?" he demanded.

One bandaged hand moved slowly through the air over the flat surface of the pedestal. "Do you know what this is?"

"No," he said as he took a couple of steps toward her. "I glanced at it yesterday but there's no writing or anything else on it, just the crystals."

She nodded slowly. "I think it may be some kind of control panel."

"What!" Daniel moved closer, his heart beginning to race. This might be -

"You see this?" As she pointed, the tip of her finger brushed the triangular crystal in the center of the array.

Simultaneously, Daniel yelled, "Sam, no!" just as a large opening suddenly appeared beneath her feet.

O'Neill stalked swiftly back toward the cave, his mind racing. He had been around the perimeter of the plateau twice to make sure that no one was sneaking up on them. But Teal'c had remained near the path on the southern edge of the plateau, monitoring the patrols' progress up the steep, twisting incline. When Jack reached his position a few minutes earlier, Teal'c had reported that the Jaffa were getting closer. In another fifteen or twenty minutes the patrols, along with their hostages, would reach the plateau's surface and be just a quick stroll away from the Stargate.

He rubbed his throbbing head as he walked but it didn't help. He was annoyed that his sore head seemed to be making the burning ache of his ribs even worse.

Shit, this wasn't good. He was about to lead his team into one hellacious battle and he could hardly move without a groan of discomfort.

He sure as hell hoped that Daniel had figured out how this weapon worked. Because if he hadn't, O'Neill was strongly tempted to just send his team through the 'gate. If the last patrol had hooked up with the other two, SG-1 would be facing more than thirty hostiles if they stayed here. As if those odds weren't bad enough, there were a score of hostages who would be caught in the middle of all that firepower.

The thought of being snaked made O'Neill shudder. But at least the hostages would still be alive. And maybe, somewhere down the road, someone could manage to find a way to unsnake them.

Maybe. Not good enough.

Jack knew he was not capable of standing by while a bunch of innocent people were dragged off to the most hideous kind of slavery he'd ever run across. If there was a chance of saving them - if there was any kind of chance . . .

As he entered the cave, he saw light coming from the entrance in the back that led into the smaller cave.

"Daniel, Carter," he called out as he approached. "Tell me you've figured this out - "

"Sam, no!"

Daniel's cry shot Jack's blood pressure through the roof as he started running. Just as he reached the entrance he saw Carter -

standing in front of the pedestal-thing, starting to fall through a hole in the ground -

Daniel running toward her, his hands outstretched -

knocking her away -

while he plunged down through the hole, disappearing before Jack's disbelieving eyes.

"Daniel!" he hollered.

He took a impulsive step forward before common sense froze him where he stood. If the ground was unstable, he could follow the archeologist right down. Which would not be good.

"Carter!"

She was lying face down on the ground but when he called her name she stirred.

Shit!

"Teal'c," he snapped into his radio, "Come in."

Silence, then through a sudden surge of static, he heard the Jaffa respond.

"How much time do we have?" Jack demanded.

"Perhaps fifteen minutes. Perhaps less."

They needed Teal'c here, but O'Neill needed Teal'c's eyes where they already were.

"Wait ten minutes," Jack said finally, "then get in here as fast as you can."

"Understood."

Painfully, wincing with every move, O'Neill managed to pull off his pack and rummaged hastily through it. As he was doing so, Carter slowly sat up, rubbing her forehead. Jack cursed silently at the sight of the large, rapidly swelling goose-egg forming just above her right eye.

"Carter, you with me?"

She blinked and turned her head slowly in his direction. "Colonel?"

"Listen to me, Captain. We're running out of time. Those Jaffa patrols are almost here."

Her eyes widened and he was relieved to see clarity return to her expression. She looked around again and suddenly gasped.

"Sir! Daniel - !" On her hands and knees she started toward the hole in the ground.

"Freeze, Carter!" O'Neill snapped, finally finding what he was looking for in his pack. He stood up quickly then staggered as dizziness momentarily gripped him. After a few seconds he dared to straighten upright, only to wince as the movement pulled at the sore muscles and ligaments around his ribs.

Jack stood still for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together as he mentally pulled himself together. Holding the rope in one hand, he moved cautiously forward, grateful for the alien light in the cave that made his flashlight unnecessary. The ground appeared firm and as he got closer to the opening in the ground he realized why.

"Damn it," he whispered in frustration.

The ground hadn't given way beneath Carter. The hole was perfectly square, with no sign of any dirt or other debris clinging to the edges.

A booby-trap.

"What the hell happened, Carter?" he demanded.

The Captain was still rubbing her forehead but she had not advanced further since he ordered her to stop. Tearing her worried gaze from the opening in the ground she looked up at him.

"I was looking at the crystals on the pedestal, sir. I think they make up some kind of control panel."

A surge of hope warred with apprehension in O'Neill. That sounded just like what they wanted. Except everything had gone to hell.

"And then?" he snapped as he inched closer to the hole.

Though still sitting still, Sam stretched forward as far as she could, also trying to peer down into the hole, but without success.

"I think I might have triggered this, sir," she said miserably. "I was looking over the crystals and they seem to be set up in some kind of pattern. The center crystal caught my attention and I . . . I called to Daniel as I pointed at it but when I looked at him, I think my finger brushed it, the crystal, I mean. Then I was falling but something - Daniel - knocked me aside."

There was no missing the pain and guilt in her tone but O'Neill shoved that knowledge aside. He'd deal with that later. Right now he had an archeologist to dig up - and damn that kid, he'd better be okay! Besides, if anyone was going to figure out how this supposed weapon worked, it be Daniel. None of the rest of them could read this shit.

Finally, he was close enough to be able to peer down through the opening. His heart clutched at the inky darkness below. The light glowing from the room's walls didn't penetrate below the ground. He reached back for his flashlight and then aimed the light down into the hole.

Unremitting blackness was all he saw and he slowly moved the flashlight around, trying to ignore the invisible hand tightening around his throat. Daniel was down there and Jack was going to damn well find -

His breath escaped in an unpremeditated whoosh of relief.

Daniel was several yards down, resting on some kind of outcropping or ledge. He lay in a crumpled heap, unmoving, and the sight turned Jack's heart inside out. Well, of course he wasn't moving, he told himself firmly. He was unconscious, for crying out loud!

O'Neill took a step back to look at his 2IC. She was still sitting on the ground, one bandaged hand holding her head, the other resting limply at her side. Carter was in no shape to go down there and Teal'c wasn't available. Which left it up to one rapidly aging Colonel.

Jack loosened the knot holding the rope together and began to fashion a harness. It would have to be something he could sit in, he realized. His ribs couldn't take any more abuse. They continued to throb unmercifully, in sync with his aching head. The deep gash in his leg also seemed bent on getting attention. But none of that meant anything. He had a man down.

"Sir," Carter mumbled, and he looked at her with fresh concern.

"Captain? You still with me?"

"Yes, sir. What about Daniel? Is he - " she stopped. Beneath the dirt on her face Jack could see her pallor.

"He's about twenty feet below," O'Neill said matter-of-factly as he measured out a long length of rope while eyeing the pedestal thoughtfully. There was nothing else he could tie off to so he took a close look at it, which proved to be reassuring. The pedestal wasn't just sitting on top of the floor of the cave, it actually appeared to part of the floor, as if it had been carved out of the stone that made up this entire cavern.

Grimly, hoping his guess was right, Jack tied the rope securely around the base of the pedestal and returned to the hole in the ground.

"Carter, keep the light focused on Daniel," he directed.

"Yes, sir," she responded, the speed in which she grabbed the flashlight proof of how much she wanted to help.

The memory of lowering himself down through that yawning blackness was one that O'Neill knew would be haunting his nightmares for a long time. The various throbbing aches that had conspired to take over his entire body didn't make the trip any easier. He didn't think he drew a full breath until he finally settled down beside the huddled form of his teammate. To his relief, he saw the younger man stirring.

"Daniel, can you hear me?" he said while he quickly checked out the younger man. As his fingers reached the archeologist's right shoulder a hiss of pain escaped the kid. A closer look made O'Neill swear under his breath. Damn, the shoulder was dislocated. There was no way in hell Daniel was going to be able to get himself back up out of here.

"Daniel, talk to me," Jack ordered as he began to unfasten the archeologist's backpack.

A groan mixed with a faint mumble answered him and O'Neill swallowed a surge of relief. "Come on, kid," he insisted. "What's hurting? Besides your shoulder?"

"No, no," Daniel protested weakly. " 'm fine, really."

"Like hell you're fine. Talk to me or I'm going to have to find out the hard way."

"Jaacckk," whined the younger man, and O'Neill had to grin. No one had pronounced his name like that since he'd been a kid. But this was no time for a trip down memory lane.

"Talk to me, Jackson. Now."

"Head's sore," the archeologist said reluctantly.

Damn, two blows to the head in as many days. Jack gently investigated and found a lump, still bleeding slightly, on the back of his head.

"Can you sit up?"

With his C.O.'s help, Daniel finally managed to sit upright, but his harsh breathing and sweating features were proof of how much effort it took him. O'Neill pulled him gently back against him, keeping one hand on the kid's uninjured shoulder. The change of position seemed to help and he felt some of the tenseness leave the younger man's body.

"We need to wrap up that dislocated shoulder," Jack said, "but I don't have time to do a decent job. Hang on."

Using the supplies from Daniel's pack, he fashioned a rough strapping to hold the arm against the kid's chest. The archeologist didn't say a word during the process but a few gasps escaped in spite of his efforts.

When Jack finally finished, he was sweating in sympathy. He spared a few seconds to give the kid a comforting squeeze then peered upward, closing his eyes against the brightness of the flashlight. Immediately, the light was removed.

"How much time's passed, Captain?"

"Since you started down there? Not quite ten minutes, sir."

O'Neill was momentarily surprised. It seemed as if they had been down here for hours.

"Radio, Teal'c. We need him here ASAP."

"Yes, sir. Sir, I can take his place - "

"No," O'Neill immediately rejected her offer. "We're about out of time and Daniel may need your help to figure this out."

"I think I have," Daniel said weakly, still resting in his C.O.'s arms.

"Good," Jack said as he began to untie the rope he was still wearing. "But we're still staying together. You sure you're not hurt anywhere besides your shoulder or head?"

"I'm sure. And they don't hurt much."

The Colonel spared a moment to glare at his white-faced teammate. "You're a lousy liar, Jackson."

"O'Neill." Teal'c's deep voiced boomed down and Jack started, accidentally squeezing the younger man's shoulder and eliciting a gasp of pain.

"Sorry," Jack said automatically as he looked up to see the massive form of the Jaffa looming over them. "Teal'c, Daniel's injured. I'm going to rope him up so you can lift him out."

"Can you tie him to yourself, O'Neill? I will lift both of you up at once. It will save time."

As clearly as if he had voiced the warning, Jack realized the Jaffa patrols had almost reached the top of the plateau. For a split-second, he hesitated. Trying to lift two grown men simultaneously wasn't something he would ever contemplate. But he knew Teal'c was much stronger than a human and figured the Jaffa knew his own strength.

"Okay, if you're sure you can do it," he said.

"I am sure, O'Neill."

It took a minute of fast thinking for Jack to figure out how to tie Daniel to him in such a way that neither Daniel nor Jack himself would be further injured by the pressure of the ropes on pre-existing injuries. But once he was certain of his knots, he called up to Teal'c. Who immediately lifted them up and out of the black abyss as if they weighed no more than a couple of small kids.

Once sitting on the stone floor, Jack drew a deep breath of relief, only to gasp in pain as his bruised ribs protested. He could feel Teal'c untying them and heard the deep voice say, "Daniel Jackson, what is your condition?"

Humph, O'Neill couldn't help thinking, but felt a small spurt of pleasure nonetheless. It seemed a wildly inappropriate moment to recognize that all his careful planning in throwing the Jaffa and archeologist together at every opportunity had paid off. Daniel and Teal'c had not only developed a good working relationship but seemed well on the way to becoming friends. Not bad considering that, right after Teal'c had acknowledged his involvement in the loss of his family, the archeologist had wanted nothing to do with the Jaffa.

But there was no time for self-congratulations. Jack picked up his weapon off the floor and climbed, wincing, to his feet. He glanced around the chamber and his heart skipped a beat.

"Where's Carter?"

"Here, sir," she called from the outer chamber. A moment later she poked her head around the wall. "Just watching for hostiles," she explained.

O'Neill nodded. "You keep doing that," he said. She had stayed close, as he ordered, but still managed to keep an eye on their six, now that Teal'c was no longer in a position to do so. Good thinking. Too bad she hadn't obeyed his orders as well earlier.

Something they'd deal with later.

He looked at Daniel who was now standing up but looking shaky. Teal'c apparently thought so too for he hadn't removed his hand from the archeologist's good arm. O'Neill glanced at his watch and winced.

"Daniel, you said you've figured this weapon out?"

The younger man nodded. "It does take the form of a shield, Jack, around the Stargate. It appears that it can be set at two different intensities but I think the highest intensity is what we need." He cast an anxious look at the Jaffa beside him. "It's designed to kill Gou'ald symbiotes but - " he glanced at the wall of hieroglyphics. "I think it takes several seconds to . . . well, reach full intensity. If Teal'c is near enough to the Stargate when it's turned on, he should be able to get through before it's fully powered."

Jack had been listening intensely and now he dared to give a brief smile. "Sweet."

The Jaffa met his gaze with his own dark, unreadable one. "What of the rest of SG-1?"

"You're the one in most danger, Teal'c," the archeologist said softly. "Our only risk is being physically close to you. As far as I can tell, it's not designed to harm humans, so long as there are no Gou'ald symbiotes in the vicinity.

"Okay." Jack's mind raced as he juggled what they knew with what they needed to do. "Teal'c, get back to the Stargate. Take Carter with you. As soon as Daniel's got this thing up and running, the two of you get yourselves through the 'gate. We'll be right behind you."

"I should remain here, O'Neill," the Jaffa said matter-of-factly, "to ensure your success."

Jack glared at him. What in the hell had happened to following orders?

"We don't have time for this!" he snarled. "Get out of here, now!"

Teal'c took a step away, his eyes shifting to the white-faced archeologist, who managed to give him a weak smile.

"We'll be fine, Teal'c," Daniel said.

O'Neill knew the kid meant to be reassuring, but his wobbly stance and weakening voice were anything but reassuring. Jack opened his mouth to start yelling but the Jaffa abruptly turned and strode swiftly out. Then he heard Carter's raised voice.

"Sir, the Jaffa patrols have just reached the plateau!"

"Get to the Stargate, Captain! And make sure Teal'c goes through as soon as the damn thing is open!"

Jack spun back to the archeologist who was already peering at the crystals on top of the pedestal. O'Neill's jaw dropped as he realized the hole in front of the pedestal had disappeared but he had no time to worry about that now.

He grabbed his pack and shoved it back on his shoulders, his mind racing. Ten minutes, he thought. From the top of the path to the Stargate was about a ten minute walk. It took about the same amount of time from the cave to the 'gate. But Carter and Teal'c, though using every bit of cover they could find, would be hauling ass and should get there first.

But there wasn't much cover right around the 'gate. And that oversized mushroom that Carter had taken to calling the DHD was totally out in the open.

And all bets were off as soon as the Jaffa patrols spotted them.

"Daniel?" he said, not wanting to ruin the kid's concentration but needing to remind him of the passing time.

"Yes, Jack, I know," the archeologist said without looking at him, his eyes flicking endlessly between the scribbles on the wall and the crystals in front of him. "I can't afford to make a mistake."

"The booby trap again?"

"More than one."

That silenced O'Neill. He moved swiftly to the entrance to the larger cave, listening intently, but he couldn't hear anything. Which was good. Silence was good.

He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Daniel carefully move one crystal from the upper right side to the lower right side. Progress! Jack opened his mouth to ask how many more of those rocks had to be moved around but bit back the question. He didn't doubt that Daniel was going as fast as he dared. The younger man knew as well as anyone what was at stake.

A sudden thought propelled O'Neill into the larger cave and all the way over to that entrance. He cautiously peered out but from this vantage point, he saw only a wide expanse, empty except for the scattered debris from the destroyed pyramid. And, seemingly miles away, the Stargate stood in solitary splendor.

Motion on the perimeter of his vision made him tighten his grip on his MP-5. Ah, just for a split-second, he got a glimpse of Carter's blonde head before it disappeared behind a pile of rock. Okay, good, they were more than half-way to the 'gate.

He ached to be out there, providing covering fire for his teammates, but for the moment he was needed right here.

With a shrug of his shoulders, O'Neill pulled off his pack and dug through it. In a separate package, strapped together, he found the blocks of C-4. For a second he was tempted to line the whole damn opening to the cave with the explosive but he resisted the impulse. He didn't want to destroy the weapon, shield, whatever it was in the smaller cave; he just wanted to make sure no one would be able to get to the damn thing.

After placing the C-4 at the top and sides of the opening, Jack pulled out the timer and calculated. No, he'd have to set that after Daniel finished figuring out the weapon, since he had no idea how long that would take.

O'Neill finished setting the device before looking at his watch and wincing. He couldn't resist a glance back toward the smaller cave. Desperation tasted brassy in his mouth but there was nothing else he could do.

As he started to return to Daniel, a sudden explosion had him ducking back, only to immediately peer around the entrance.

Shit!

The Jaffa had spotted his teammates.

Carter and Teal'c ducked behind the last mound of protective debris available. They were less than twenty feet from the 'gate, just six feet from the damn DHD, but the blasts from staff weapons kept them trapped where they were.

Even as O'Neill watched, he could see the Jaffa spreading across the plateau even as they continued firing. Sonofabitch, in another minute they'd be able to come up behind Carter and Teal!

Jack whirled around and raced back into the smaller cave. As he burst inside he saw Daniel moving more crystals.

"We're out of time, Jackson!" he yelled over the increasing sound of explosions outside.

"I can hear, Jack!" the kid shouted. "Just another few seconds - "

"Carter and Teal'c are about out of seconds!"

Daniel ignored that, his eyes darting over the hieroglyphics yet again. There, and, yes, that one . . . and there. And this.

Holding his breath, he moved the last crystal in place.

"What're you doing?" O'Neill snapped. "Finish that!"

"I . . . I did." I think. Daniel kept that last thought to himself as he looked from the crystals arrayed on the top of the pedestal to the hieroglyphics on the wall. What had he missed? He couldn't see anything that he'd missed. But . . . wasn't something supposed to happen?

Jack glared at the pedestal, his eyes sweeping the room. But nothing had changed and all he heard were the near-constant explosions from staff weapons outside.

"Shit," he whispered. It hadn't worked. They were all in deep shit.

A hoarse scream from outside jerked him around. Then more screams.

O'Neill charged back to the entrance to the cave to peer out. Jaffa were going down all over the place. Those closest to the 'gate were on the ground, screaming as they clutched their pouches. Those further away from the 'gate were in trouble but still able to fire.

"Come on, Daniel!" he yelled over his shoulder as he moved out of the cave to duck behind some massive boulders.

"Carter!" he shouted into his radio. "Open the 'gate! I'll cover you!"

"Sir!" he heard as he opened fire.

As he focused on the enemy, he saw Carter burst out into the open and head directly for the DHD. She hit the symbols as fast as she could and the instant the event horizon exploded open, O'Neill saw her start punching in the code on her GDO.

Jack ducked to avoid a staff blast and shot the Jaffa before he could trigger the staff again.

"Come on, come on!" he muttered.

He was vaguely aware of the hostages scattering across the plateau, but he couldn't spare them any attention. They were just going to have to stay out of the way because he didn't have time to be careful with his shots.

What worried him most was that he'd seen no sign of Teal'c. Being only twenty feet from the 'gate, he was probably in the same shape as the enemy Jaffa on the ground. But at least they were still moving, even if feebly.

Carter ducked behind the DHD as a staff blast came perilously close to her. O'Neill killed the Jaffa, then heard his 2IC over the radio -

"It's all clear to go through, sir!"

"Then go!" Jack ordered, gritting his teeth at the thought of Teal'c. But once Carter and Daniel were through the 'gate, maybe he could get to Teal'c and -

"Carter!" he roared.

For Sam had started running not toward the 'gate but back to where she and Teal'c had been hiding.

Shit shit shit!

But there was nothing O'Neill could do other than what he was already doing. The enemy Jaffa had figured out that the further away from the Stargate they were, the less damaging the effects would be from the shield. Though in bad shape, more than a third of the remaining Jaffa were still able to use their staff weapons and were moving toward the Colonel's position.

O'Neill was firing steadily now. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight of Carter pulling Teal'c from the rocks. He was leaning heavily against her, one arm around her shoulders while the other was wrapped around his stomach.

Sam was bent half-over under his weight but she dragged him forward nonetheless. One of the enemy Jaffa spotted them in front of the Stargate, completely exposed, and raised his staff for a killing blast -

But O'Neill shot him down before he could fire.

How Carter got Teal'c up those stone stairs, Jack couldn't imagine. But after what seemed forever, he finally saw the pair disappear into the shimmering blue vortex.

"Daniel!" he yelled as he swung around, only to see the younger man flat on his face a few yards away.

Jack lunged for the kid. "We gotta go!" he shouted as he dragged him upright. "There're still hostiles out there."

Daniel feebly shook his head. "Takes . . . time . . . for shield to reach . . . full intensity."

Shit, now O'Neill remembered. It would take several seconds, the archeologist had said.

He sure as hell hoped the kid was right.

"Come on, Daniel!"

The younger man struggled upright but O'Neill kept a tight grip on him. He led him back to the entrance and propped him up against the wall.

"Hold on a second," he said as he picked up the timer he'd previously placed. Five minutes, he decided, hoping that would be enough time for them to get clear. But he didn't want any Jaffa coming in here and maybe, somehow, turning off the weapon. Not after everything SG-1 had gone through to get the fucking thing turned on.

"Come on," he said, pulling the archeologist against him while he lifted his MP-5 in his free weapon.

When he peered out of the cave again he couldn't believe his eyes. All the Jaffa were down now, and only a few were still moving.

He gave the younger man a quick grin. "You called it, Daniel."

But Daniel didn't smile back. The misery and grief and plain exhaustion on the kid's face turned Jack's feeling of triumph into ashes.

"Let's go home," he said quietly.

He pulled the archeologist along as fast as he could. The Jaffa might not be a threat anymore but the C-4 was going to go off any minute. He wanted to get them as far away from the cave as he could.

They had nearly reached the DHD when the explosion erupted behind them but Jack didn't turn around. He practically carried the younger man up the stone stairs and then plunged the both of them into the event horizon.

Jack O'Neill was not used to defeat. He was especially not used to defeat at the hands of a junior officer. But as he sat on a bed in the infirmary he had to admit, if only to himself, that he had come up against one hell of an adversary.

Captain Janet Frazier, the new C.M.O. of the SGC, moved quickly but calmly around the infirmary, giving orders to subordinates, examining x-rays and other test results, and indulging in the occasional low-voiced conversation with Dr. Warner.

O'Neill had returned from X-ray a half hour ago and had been twiddling his thumbs ever since. But that part he didn't mind. He had been more than willing to wait around to see how the other members of his team were doing.

It had been a hectic welcome-home those first few minutes. When he and Daniel stumbled through the 'gate, he had yelled for the iris to be closed, even as he was falling. He had already observed Carter and Teal's lying at the foot of the ramp, surrounded by medical personnel, half of whom immediately surrounded him and Daniel, loaded everyone on gurneys, and rushed them to the infirmary.

Gradually, things had calmed down. The gash in O'Neill's calf had been stitched up, x-rays had proved his ribs were bruised, not broken, just as he had told a scowling Frazier, and still more tests confirmed that he didn't have a concussion.

To his surprised relief, Carter didn't have a concussion either. Her worst injuries were the numerous cuts to her hands, the deepest of which was showing signs of infection. Jack heard Frazier order a course of antibiotics for Sam, but was relieved by the physician's calm.

The person he had been most concerned about was the one who ended up in the best shape. Despite nearly being killed by that alien shield, Teal'c was doing better than the rest of them. Upon his arrival in the infirmary, he had informed Dr. Frazier that he and his symbiote were perfectly well. This calm self-diagnosis seemed to curdle the C.M.O.'s temperament and O'Neill had to fight to control his grin at her expression.

"I will be the judge of that, Mr. Teal'c," she proclaimed coolly, just before ordering what sounded like every test in the book for the Jaffa.

As for Daniel . . .

Jack couldn't think about the archeologist without being overwhelmed by guilt. He had known going into this that the civilian would require special care. So how was it that Daniel had come back from their first mission in such bad shape?

The dislocated shoulder had been repaired but out of all of them, Daniel was the one who ended up with a concussion. He was now arguing with Dr. Frazier who wanted him to stay here for the next 24 hours.

O'Neill eyed Frazier sourly. He had already tried to leave the infirmary twice when her back was turned and both times the petite physician had ordered him back to the bed. The last time she threatened to sedate him if he tried it again.

But there were things that needed to be done, actions he needed to take. And he couldn't do those sitting in this damn, antiseptic-smelling room. The sound of rising voices caught his attention.

"But Dr. Frazier," Daniel was protesting, "I don't need to stay here to rest."

"As I have already explained, Dr. Jackson, I need to keep an eye on you."

"You've already run all your tests. All that's left is for me to lie here and I have work to do - "

"No, you don't," she returned sternly. "Not for now. You need to rest - "

It was Daniel's turn to interrupt. "But I can't rest here. I mean, look." He waved a hand in the air, a gesture that encompassed the entire room.

O'Neill could sympathize. Besides SG-1, SG-2 had just returned from their first mission and were now undergoing their post-mission physicals. Add to that, the senior tech guy that Jack thought went by the name of Siler had apparently fallen down some stairs and was now getting his sprained ankle wrapped up.

Nope, Jack thought, this place sure as hell wasn't conducive to rest.

"Dr. Jackson - " Frazier started, only to be interrupted again.

"I'm sorry," Daniel apologized. "I don't mean to make things more difficult for you. But if I just need to rest, I can do that anywhere." As he spoke, he raised imploring blue eyes to the physician who blinked, looking startled, then dropped her gaze to the chart in her hands.

"Well," she said in a considerably softer voice.

Ah-hah, just what O'Neill had been waiting for. "Doc? You got a minute?"

She looked from the archeologist to the 2IC of the SGC, then said, "Stay right there for the moment, Dr. Jackson," before walking across the room to Jack.

As she reached him, he said quietly, "Doc, I need to get out of here. Now."

The petite physician gazed up at him, clearly unimpressed. "Colonel, I don't - "

"I have an appointment with the General I need to get to ASAP," he interrupted. They locked gazes momentarily while Jack hoped she didn't call Hammond to confirm his statement. He did have an appointment with the General ASAP. Hammond just didn't know about it yet.

Her eyes dropped first. "I see." She traded charts with the nurse standing near by and ran a practiced eye over its contents. Finally she raised her eyes to him.

"Very well, sir, you can go."

"Thanks," he said as he slid off the bed. He gave Daniel a wave and strode quickly out of the infirmary.

Two hours later, Jack walked out of Hammond's office. His request to put the debriefing off until tomorrow morning had been granted, thanks to the General having already read Frazier's medical reports on the members of SG-1. But before O'Neill could escape, Hammond turned the subject to several administrative matters that had taken the entire rest of the time to iron out. But at least those matters had been taken care of. Unfortunately, certain other matters couldn't be disposed of so easily.

Pausing outside the General's office, O'Neill swiped a hand over his face. Now he needed some cold hard facts, facts that - if his suspicions were correct - would require that he read the riot act not just to one but to every single member of his team. This fiasco could not happen again. They weren't going to get this lucky again. First things first. Military courtesy dictated that he start by confronting his 2IC.

Hell, he was so not looking forward to this.

Sam Carter leaned back in her chair and stretched, then grimaced at the monitor. She had been working on her report since Dr. Frazier released her from the infirmary but it was not progressing well. Not progressing well. Sam shook her head at herself. That was putting it mildly

Every time she tried to set down the details of what had happened on P3-575 she came face to face with her failure.

Sam closed her eyes at the thought. Not even during her first days at the Academy had she felt so . . . ignorant as she had on P3-575. All of her training had seemed so inconsequential beside the Jaffa's experience and, most intimidating, his implacable will.

But despite her despair over that debacle, she was aware of a fresh sense of hope. Teal'c had surprised her in the corridor after Dr. Frazier had released her. She hadn't been expecting him and when she walked out of the infirmary Sam had been startled to find the Jaffa waiting.

"Captain Carter," he said without preamble, "may I speak with you?"

"Um - " Sam said in surprise before catching herself. She took a quick look around but there was no one within earshot. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"It was extremely dangerous for you to follow me down the plateau." He nodded at her hands. "You were injured in the process. Why did you follow me?"

She stiffened, meeting his gaze unwavering. "It was my duty, Teal'c. I was responsible for you, for your safety."

His eyes narrowed and she sensed his confusion, but to her surprise he changed the subject.

"When I was brought down by the alien device, you disobeyed O'Neill's orders by returning to assist me through the Stargate."

"That's correct," she said, inwardly pleased by the evenness of her tone.

"You disobeyed O'Neill because you believed yourself to be responsible for me?"

"Yes," Sam said flatly.

He was silent for a long moment, then to her surprise he bowed slightly before her. "I am in your debt, Captain Carter."

With that he had been gone. Recalling that unexpected conversation, Sam couldn't help feeling that something positive had come out of their disastrous first mission. Disastrous . . . the word echoed in her thoughts, mocking her, and she sagged in the chair. Worse than disastrous, she had failed. She had failed everyone, worst of all herself.

She had disobeyed a direct order, no, more than one direct order. Her throat tightened at the thought and the possible consequences.

Sam glanced at the clock for the tenth time in the past five minutes and then scolded herself. There was no way to know when she would receive Colonel O'Neill's summons and she might as well get some work done -

A loud knock on the door made her jump. "Come in," Sam called, then was startled by the sight of the Colonel in the doorway. She had never expected that he would come to her.

"Carter," he said.

"Sir," she responded, sliding off the chair and standing at attention.

"As you were," O'Neill said, closing the door behind him and taking a few steps into the room.

Sam deliberately relaxed her pose but kept her hands clasped behind her back to hide, she hoped, her nervousness. She kept her eyes front and center, hoping also that he could not hear her pounding heart. However this went down, she was not going to make excuses.

"What happened, Captain?" he said quietly.

Taking what small comfort she could in the fact that he wasn't yelling, she still had to swallow before saying, "I abdicated my responsibility as 2IC of the team, sir."

"Meaning?"

There was no inflection in his tone and his expression remained neutral. Sam had no idea what he was thinking and that made her even more nervous. But she was not about to give in to her emotions.

"I allowed myself to be influenced by Teal'c's knowledge of the Gou'ald, sir."

"How so?"

"When Teal'c told me that he wanted to get a closer look at the Jaffa patrol, I not only didn't stop him but I went after him. Despite the fact that it was a violation of your orders."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"I, uh . . ." Sam floundered briefly, not wanting to put the onus on the Jaffa. "He was, um, very certain of his actions. So certain that I, uh, didn't stop him."

The Colonel eyed her expressionlessly and she had no idea if he saw though the flimsiness of her words. "Why didn't you check with me first before you made your decision?"

"The element that I wanted samples of was interfering - "

"- with radio transmission," O'Neill interrupted. (Yes, I remember. But that would have cleared up as soon as you got a little distance from your position. Once you moved away from that area you could have radioed me and advised me of the situation. Why didn't you?"

His matter-of-fact words fell like stones in her ears. Why hadn't she?

Sam stared at him, aghast at herself. There it was. So simple. So inexorable.

She had forgotten that simple, critical fact about the radio transmissions. As their earlier tests had proved, as soon as they had left the immediate area where the element was buried, their radios had cleared up. There had been no need for her to take the time to go all the way back to the Stargate - it would have been so easy for her to contact him as soon as she got several yards away . . . how had she forgotten?

Asking herself the question revealed a truth that burned through her heart.

Teal'c.

She hadn't just been intimidated by the Jaffa. She had been - still was - afraid of him, despite their brief discussion outside the infirmary. As Sam considered her actions, she was shocked to realize that her emotions had actually clouded and interfered with her judgment.

Sam couldn't breathe, stunned and dismayed by this revelation. She had been afraid to tell Teal'c 'no'. Partly because she feared him but also partly because she suspected that he would have disregarded any order she gave him.

She had excelled at everything she put her mind to throughout her life, both personally and militarily. Yet here, when she finally won the posting she had wanted more than she had ever wanted anything else, Sam Carter had failed abysmally. What kind of commander did it make her when she had no authority over an individual ostensibly under her command?

Sam lowered her gaze as shame filled her. How could she not have known these things about herself?

Jack O'Neill had 25 years of experience in commanding men and women. As he watched the emotions she was unable to suppress sweeping across her features he felt a swell of sadness. He recognized where the real problem lay and it did not belong at his 2IC's doorstep.

"You made some mistakes, Captain," he said matter-of-factly. "Mistakes that I expect you will not repeat. But I made the bigger mistake."

Despite her shock and dismay with herself, Sam was even more surprised by the Colonel's words. "Sir?"

His lips tightened. "I was so concerned with getting Daniel and Teal'c comfortable working together that I left you out of the loop. You and Teal'c also need to learn how to work together. He needs to recognize your authority as my 2IC. The fact he didn't recognize that during the mission is largely to blame for things going to hell on that planet. Even discounting those other Jaffa." O'Neill paused to give her a long, searching look.

"When he took off after that patrol, why did you go after him? Why didn't you move to another area and contact me?"

Sam flushed but met his gaze squarely. She knew why - now. She had been so flustered and overwhelmed by Teal'c that she hadn't been thinking clearly, hadn't thought through the situation as she was trained to do. But she refused to use her fear of the Jaffa as an excuse. Besides, that would never happen again. Of that she was certain.

"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, "I - I probably should have. But that would have taken time. And meanwhile Teal'c would have been alone, without any back-up. It didn't matter how well he knew the Gou'ald or the Jaffa. He was my responsibility, even if he didn't want to be. So I chose to back him up."

Jack sternly suppressed a smile. Yes, Carter had made some mistakes. But she had good instincts. Despite the daunting circumstances, she had made the same difficult call that he would have made if he'd been in her shoes.

Actually, he thought, he would first have tried to cold-cock Teal'c. Unconscious, the Jaffa couldn't have gotten himself or the team in trouble. But that probably wouldn't have worked out very well. Sparring together during P.T. had given O'Neill a much clearer idea of Teal'c's strength and tenacity. Not only would his efforts probably have done little except to piss off the Jaffa, he would still have had to follow him when Teal'c insisted on chasing after that patrol.

O'Neill shook his head at himself. "Have you finished your report?"

Involuntarily, Sam glanced at the monitor. "Uh, no, sir."

"Finish it up and get a copy to me and the General. Then go home and get some sleep. You know the debriefing's scheduled for 0900 tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir."

Jack nodded and turned away. Just as he reached the door, she called after him.

"Sir?"

He paused, half-in and half-out the door. "Yeah?"

Sam's flush deepened but she met his gaze, unwavering. "I won't let you down again, sir."

"I know that, Carter," he said, before closing the door behind him.

Back in the corridor, he considered his next step. Daniel's lab was one level up and Teal'c's quarters was one down. His desire to face either one was utterly non-existent. But he couldn't put it off, not if he intended to remain C.O. of SG-1.

O'Neill figured that since Daniel had been able to sweet-talk himself out of the infirmary, the kid had probably disregarded Dr. Frazier's instructions to rest and was instead busy in his lab going through all the crap he had stuffed into his backpack from Kemet. And, Jack suspected, he'd probably forgotten to take the meds she had prescribed since leaving the infirmary.

The thought made him shake his head and sigh. He needed to drag him out of the mountain and back home. Once he had Daniel under his roof, properly fed and medicated, then he'd chew him out for disobeying orders on that damn planet. Except he'd also have to say something about what a great job the archeologist had also done on that damn planet.

Hell. That was going to be tricky.

But right now he had to take the elevator down so that he could confront a certain Jaffa.

Damn. He didn't want to confront Teal'c. He didn't need Daniel's input to know that the Jaffa came from an alien culture utterly unlike anything O'Neill knew. And reprimanding Teal'c for something that was maybe permissible within his culture was something Jack wasn't sure he knew how to do.

The SGC needed Teal'c. Hell, Earth needed Teal'c, needed all his knowledge and experience. Jack didn't want to alienate him. But he had no choice. He had to take the risk because, sure as hell, this kind of thing couldn't happen again.

Which also meant that he was going to have to figure out a way to get Carter and Teal'c to work together, particularly to get Teal'c to recognize Carter's authority over the Jaffa. That was likely going to be a tough nut to crack, particularly if what Daniel had said to him about the patriarchal culture of the Jaffa was accurate.

One floor below O'Neill, Teal'c gazed at the candles before him, unable, despite his efforts, to enter into a state of kel'no'reem. And he knew why.

He had behaved on the planet as if he was only a young Jaffa, new to the service of his god. He had ignored the orders of O'Neill and placed his teammates in unnecessary danger. Why? Because he had acted rather than thought.

If he had still been in the service of Apophis, he would be executed for such failure.

He did not know what penalty his failure would exact here, among the Tau'ri. But he would face it, regardless.

The Jaffa took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled slowly.

He had been amazed to discover that Captain Carter had climbed down the plateau after him. And then later she had ignored O'Neill's orders - Teal'c had not been so far gone that he had missed O'Neill ordering his 2IC to go through the Chappa'ai - in order to come back for him.

Captain Carter had risked her life, twice, for him. She had behaved, in every way, as a warrior, as someone Teal'c would wish to have at his side in battle.

As he contemplated the events of the past two weeks, particularly the last two days, Teal'c realized again how much his life had changed. His beliefs in the gods - false gods - had changed drastically. His belief in the Jaffa's place in the universe had also changed drastically. But it appeared that he still had much serious thinking to do.

He lifted his head as his sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of someone approaching his quarters. As he listened he realized who it was.

Judgment was at hand.

O'Neill knocked briskly on the door and heard a firm, "Come," from inside. He turned the knob and pushed the door open enough so that he could poke his head in.

Teal'c was kneeling on the floor, facing a bunch of burning candles. Right, he was doing that meditation thing. Feeling increasingly awkward but hoping he was giving nothing away, Jack said,

"Hey, Teal'c. You got a minute?"

The Jaffa met his gaze, his expression neutral, neither welcoming nor forbidding. Jack took that as permission to enter and closed the door firmly behind him.

"You, uh, mind?" he gestured toward the bunk. No way in hell was he going to try to become one with the floor.

The Jaffa gave him a faint nod and he signed inwardly as he sat down on the edge of the bunk and met Teal'c's inscrutable gaze. Any thoughts of dissembling vanished under the weight of that stare.

"You know why I'm here, don't you?"

"I disobeyed your orders to remain with Captain Carter on the plateau."

Simple, uninflected, matter-of-fact. He gave O'Neill nothing to grasp. Fine. He was an old hand at playing hardball.

"That's right. You disobeyed my orders, disobeyed Carter's orders, and in the process nearly got a lot of people killed, including us."

Once again he saw the dark head nod slightly but that was it. O'Neill squelched his growing irritation and tried for a little matter-of-factness of his own.

"Teal'c, I understand that you know more about tactics and, hell, more about everything there is to know about fighting the Gou'ald. But I need you to remember that SG-1 is a team and we work best as a team."

Jack paused, searching the Jaffa's expression but it was as unreadable as a block of stone. He sighed internally and continued.

"The next time we run across something like this, you need to tell me so that I can make a determination what SG-1, as a team, is going to do about it. Understand?"

Teal'c inclined his head a fraction of an inch.

O'Neill would've liked a little stronger show of understanding but realized that this was as much as the Jaffa could give him. Hopefully, as they got to know each other better, Teal'c would begin to feel more comfortable and open.

Time to move on to a tougher subject.

"I don't know much about Jaffa culture, Teal'c. But I get the idea that Jaffa women don't normally become soldiers, uh, warriors."

Teal'c raised his head at that and met Jack's eyes squarely. "They do not."

Point to Daniel. Jack would have to remember to thank him for the insight, after he finished chewing him out.

"Yeah, well, things are different here on Earth. At least - " O'Neill hesitated, wondering if he had to get into the whole gender equality business, but decided that was far too complicated to tackle now.

"Anyway," he continued, "Captain Carter is not only a fine scientist - she probably knows more about the, uh, inner workings of the Stargate than anyone else on the planet - but the Air Force has also recognized her as an excellent, um, warrior."

As he struggled through this paean of commendation for the good Captain, Jack gave silent thanks that she wasn't around to hear it.

"All these reasons are why she's the 2IC of SG-1. Which means when I'm not around she's in charge. You remember me telling you about this before?"

Another, almost imperceptible nod.

Feeling as if he were trying to march through deep mud, O'Neill plowed on. "Why did you ignore my orders and go after that patrol?"

Teal'c met his gaze with his own dark, unreadable one. "Shak'l was part of Apophis' personal guard when I last saw him. I believed that he might possess the knowledge of where Daniel Jackson's family is located."

Oh, shit.

Of all the scenarios he had contemplated in trying to guess Teal'c's motivation for disregarding orders, O'Neill had not considered that one. But then he'd had no idea the Jaffa was concerned about the whereabouts of Jackson's family.

"You want to find them, do you?"

"I have sworn to Daniel Jackson that I will return his family to him."

Hell.

O'Neill scrubbed his face hard as he recognized something he should have seen earlier - the guilt that Teal'c was carrying. Add that to the promise he'd apparently made to the archeologist and the Jaffa's actions on that planet suddenly became understandable. Nonetheless . . .

"We will find them, Teal'c," he said quietly. "But meanwhile we each have a responsibility to the team and to the SGC. I need to know that I can depend on you to follow my orders. And I need to know that when I'm not around, you will follow Captain Carter's orders. I'll always be glad for any intel you have but you are not to disregard orders again. Is that clear?"

Teal'c gave another slight nod. "You have my word, O'Neill."

Jack nodded, feeling a weight drop off his shoulders. "Good." He stood up and gestured at the still-burning candles. "I'll let you get back to your, uh, I'll let you get back to it."

"O'Neill."

Jack stopped at the door. "Yeah?"

"What of my punishment?"

"Punishment?"

"I defied your instructions. I endangered both SG-1 and the mission."

O'Neill blinked. "Yeah," he said slowly, "you did. But part of that's my fault."

"I do not understand."

"I know." Jack sighed. "Look, I'll explain it all later. For now," he grinned suddenly, "on our next mission, you have to do all the cooking. That should take care of the punishment."

Teal'c stared at him blankly but Jack thought he sensed something new this time - emotion. Confusion. The thought widened his grin.

"Night, Teal'c."

A last regal nod sent him out the door. As he headed down the corridor, Jack thought over the last few minutes. He had no doubt that the Jaffa would keep his word. But there was more to it than that. He was also going to have to figure out how to put Teal'c and Carter together more often, let them get comfortable with each other.

Tomorrow, O'Neill decided. He'd see that the two of them were thrown together during P.T. Nothing like a little sparring to get to know someone. And, maybe, he could arrange for Teal'c to be allowed to leave the mountain, at least long enough for a real get-acquainted dinner with the other members of SG-1.

Wait a minute, Jack thought in sudden inspiration. All the members of his team were still in the mountain. No time like the present to start a little bonding. And no better way to do that than over a good steak. His stomach growled at the thought and he nodded in satisfaction, only to sigh.

If he was going to delay dragging Daniel home tonight, he'd have to give the archeologist hell now. Afterwards, he'd make a telephone call.

Two levels above, Daniel sat slumped in his chair, looking at but not seeing the images on his monitor. Ever since they had returned to the SGC he had been going over and over the events that had occurred on Kemet.

He hoped with all his heart that the shield was working. He hoped, by now, the hostages had made their way back home. There would be grief and pain and mourning but, he hoped, they would be able to rebuild their village and their lives.

Daniel hoped desperately that little Kebu and the others were all right. He hoped, despite the odds, that Esamenope and Mehtetweshket had survived the attack. He hoped not only for their own sakes but because all of them, young and old, were needed to restore normalcy to Kemet. He didn't know if there was another scribe in the village but, if not, then he hoped there was one not too far away, so that the gift of writing would not be lost.

And he grieved. For Netnebu and all the others who had died so needlessly.

The archeologist leaned back in his chair and his recently dislocated shoulder twinged in discomfort. He rubbed it absently, but it couldn't distract him from his thoughts.

Up until a few weeks ago, Daniel had lived his entire life without being able to truly comprehend the concept of hate. But now he understood for now hate lived in his heart. Hate for the Gou'ald. A hate that had only been strengthened by the events of the last two days.

They were vicious, egomaniacal monsters who had stolen their human forms and, in the process, forced their hosts into the most horrific, unthinkable kind of captivity. The Gou'ald were truly evil as he had, even a year ago, not believed possible.

But despite what had happened on Kemet, Daniel could not find it in himself to hate the Jaffa. They believed the Gou'ald were gods and served them as such. They were merely weapons of the Gou'ald - misled, lied to, betrayed on a daily basis by their so-called gods but oblivious to the truth.

But not all of them. Teal'c was proof that hope remained for the Jaffa.

So many villagers had died. So many Jaffa.

Daniel sagged in his chair, weighed down by grief and sorrow for all that had gone wrong, for all those who had died, and for his part in that horror. He blinked back tears, then jumped at the sound of someone banging on his door. He sniffled hastily, giving his face another swipe before saying, "Come in."

His heart sank at the sight of Jack standing in the doorway. Here was the man who had taken him in, befriended him, fought for him, the man who had given Daniel his whole-hearted trust, a trust that the archeologist had betrayed. He was not ready to face Jack. But when his C.O. shoved the door closed behind him Daniel knew he had no choice.

Daniel watched the older man take several steps into the room before leaning against a bookshelf, his hands in his pockets. His sharp eyes studied the archeologist and Daniel could feel the growing heat in his face under that searching gaze.

"You don't look so hot," Jack noted. "You sure you should've left the infirmary?"

"Dr. Frazier released me," Daniel said, wincing at his defensive tone.

"Yeah, I heard you sweet-talking her." O'Neill's eyes flicked over the piles of books open before Daniel, stacked one on top of the other. "But I think the Doc's definition of rest is different than yours."

The archeologist lowered his head so that Jack couldn't see his eyes. He studied the slumped figure as he debated which way to take this.

When he'd walked into the office, O'Neill had been poised to chew the younger man's ass off for the stunts he'd pulled on that damn planet. But his first sight of the archeologist had him instantly revising his battle plan. There was no need to chew the kid out because it was clear that Daniel was already doing a dandy job of chewing himself out.

Later, O'Neill decided, he would point out the mistakes Daniel had made on that planet and make it clear that he didn't want any future repeat. But first, he realized, he was going to have to give the younger man some encouragement because Daniel was carrying one hell of a load of guilt. Which he didn't deserve to be carrying.

But the archeologist did deserve a pat on the back. "You know," Jack said quietly, "you did good out there, Daniel - "

"Good!" Daniel shot to his feet, suddenly furious. "How can you say that? I did everything wrong and they - " he pointed at the monitor with a trembling hand - "suffered and died because of it. You and Sam and Teal'c . . ." He gulped but forced the words out - "you all almost died because I didn't figure out the hieroglyphics sooner! Even those Jaffa . . . they didn't have to die. If I'd done a better job we could have had the shield in place much sooner. And the Jaffa would never have been able to come through the Stargate! They'd all be alive . . . Netnebu and the others would still be alive - "

Jack had stood silent during the first part of Daniel's tirade, as still as a statute in spite of his growing astonishment. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed the archeologist's good arm, slamming him back in his chair with a thud. Unprepared, Daniel's mouth shut with a snap, and he winced as he bit his tongue.

"Just shut up for one minute, Jackson," O'Neill snapped, "or so help me you're going to get a face-full of water!"

Suiting his words to action, Jack grabbed a nearby coffee cup and moved quickly into the tiny bathroom. He poured the coffee down the sink, rinsed out the cup and filled it. Then he reappeared in front of the younger man, cup in hand.

"Now," he growled, "do you want to drink this or wear it?"

Daniel stared at the cup then up at Jack. One look at that dark expression made him realize that his C.O. was more than prepared to carry out his threat. He cleared his throat before daring to speak.

"Since I have a choice," he said, his voice only slightly unsteady, "I would prefer to drink it."

"See, you are a smart guy," Jack sniped as he handed the cup over, watching while the younger man took a couple sips before setting the glass on the counter.

"Do you really blame yourself for what happened on P - whatever?" he finally said.

"It was my fault," Daniel said, almost inaudibly.

Jack stared at the slumped figure in disbelief. "How in the hell can Jaffa coming through the gate to blow that village to hell and kidnap everyone be your fault?"

He watched the archeologist open and close his mouth a few times, then the slumped shoulders slumped further.

"When I was down in the cavern reading through that papyrus about the very beginnings of this civilization's history . . . it told a story about how the village saved two dying strangers, but then the villagers themselves started to become ill. So the strangers brought the entire village through a great stone circle - "

O'Neill's eyebrows rose but he didn't interrupt.

" - to this world. The strangers told them everyone would recover and then they disappeared. And all of the villagers did recover and Kemet became their new home."

Daniel paused, swallowing painfully, and Jack said cautiously, "So you found out how those folks got from Earth to this planet. That's good, right?"

"There was - the story didn't end there. Centuries passed, their civilization was growing slowly, peacefully, and then other strangers, the scribe writing down the story referred to them as 'dark' or 'evil' strangers, came to this world. These strangers called themselves gods and started to enslave the people. But other strangers, who claimed to be the same two strangers the ancestors of the villagers had saved centuries before, returned. They fought the evil strangers, there was a great battle and the evil ones were killed and their great edifice - the pyramid - was destroyed."

Well, well. Just as they'd thought when they saw what was left of that pyramid, the Gou'alds got their asses kicked back then, too. Despite his surge of satisfaction at the thought, O'Neill kept quiet because he sensed the kid wasn't finished.

"The people worshipped the strangers who had saved them - again - and the strangers . . ." Daniel darted a misery-filled look at his C.O. before dropping his gaze - "said they would leave behind an instrument to protect the planet in the future. The people asked the strangers to stay but they were told that wasn't possible, that the strangers were not of their kind. So the strangers left and the people have worshiped them ever since as the unnamed gods."

Jack nodded to himself. Now the pieces were falling into place. The 'instrument' that the aliens had put in place millennia ago to protect the planet had to be the shield that Daniel activated, that killed the Jaffa's symbiotes, that had come dangerously close to killing Teal'c's as well.

"I was still trying to decide what I should tell you," the archeologist said, so softly that O'Neill could barely hear him. "I wanted . . . I wanted to protect those people . . . I didn't want their natural development to be contaminated or their world interfered with. And I - I knew if the weapon that had destroyed the pyramid eons ago still existed, the SGC would want it. So I decided not to tell you anything. And then the Jaffa showed up and you dragged me out of the cavern. Even though I didn't have time to translate any more I knew enough . . ." He darted another one of those misery-laden glances at his C.O. but immediately looked back down at his clenched hands.

"I know - " Daniel took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "I know you can't trust me anymore . . ." he stopped short. How could he ask for another chance when he had so clearly proven he was not trustworthy?

Jack stared at the bowed head while he processed the archeologist's confession then shook his own head.

"Daniel," he said quietly, "don't you get it? What you did proves I can trust you."

"What?" Daniel's head snapped up so quickly that O'Neill winced in sympathy. "How can you say that? I wasn't going to tell you anything about the weapon. And when I discovered the information about the shield my first thought was to use it to keep anyone, including us, from coming through the Stargate again."

"Yeah, I got that." Jack suppressed his smile with an effort. "But you did tell me about it, remember? Not about the strangers coming to Earth or the weapon, true, but we were a little pressed for time. What matters is that you did tell me what I needed to know at the time." He hesitated as he debated how to phrase his question. The kid was already upset and he didn't want to make things worse. But he had to know.

"What about the weapon that destroyed the pyramid?"

Daniel shook his head. "Maybe there was more in the papyrus about it but I didn't get a chance to read it. I don't know anything more than what I've told you."

O'Neill nodded. "So, no harm no foul. Besides, given our situation at the time, that stuff wasn't as important as the weap- uh, the shield." Gazing at the forlorn figure, he decided to remind him of the most important point. "Which you told me about when we got back up on top of the plateau, remember?"

"But - but . . ." Daniel stopped in confusion. What point had he been trying to make? It had been so clear before he began his confession to Jack but now . . . he wasn't sure of his point now.

O'Neill watched the younger man flounder for a moment before taking pity on him. "Okay, let's take this one step at a time. First, blaming yourself for the Jaffa coming through the 'gate and blowing things up and killing people, is crazy."

"Why did the Jaffa come through the Stargate shortly after we did?" Daniel said wearily. "Why then? The people of Kemet were clear that no one like the Gou'ald or Jaffa had ever come to their planet before."

"Yeah, well that stuff you translated is proof they were wrong."

"But they didn't know that. As far as their oral history was concerned, they were correct. No one had bothered them for millennia. Not until we showed up."

Jack felt a twinge of irritation at the kid's stubbornness. "Daniel, there's no way to know if the Gou'ald were somehow monitoring that gate or maybe they just dialed in occasionally, like they've done with our 'gate, remember? Sometimes shit happens, Daniel, and no one's responsible for it. It just happens, okay? However it happened, the Jaffa came through when the shield wasn't working, which may or may not have had anything to do with us. It's not your fault, not Carter's, not anyone's."

The archeologist was still staring at him but at least he'd closed his mouth, which O'Neill considered to be a step in the right direction.

"Okay, where was I? Number two or three? Never mind. Anyway, as nice as it would've been to stay and help those people, it wasn't an option. We were in the middle of a firefight, surrounded by hostiles, both you and Carter, then Teal'c, were wounded - " O'Neill smoothly omitted any mention of his own injuries during those critical moments.

"-and we needed to get the hell through that gate before it was fully powered up or it would've killed Teal'c's symbiote - and Teal'c - for sure. If we'd waited around, Teal'c would've died. We had no choice, all the way around. And 'cause you set that shield to maximum, now no one can get back through, human or Jaffa or anyone else."

Jack stopped at the look of fresh misery on the kid's face. "What?" he demanded.

Daniel swallowed but it didn't ease the ache in his throat. "I wanted it to happen."

"Wanted what?"

"To make it impossible for anyone to come back through the Stargate. But now we can't send any help back to them."

O'Neill sighed gustily. "For crying out loud, Daniel, they've been surviving just fine on their own for, what? Over twelve thousand years?

"I know," the kid acknowledged, "but I still wish . . ." his words trailed off and Jack sighed again.

"I'm sorry we can't get back to offer them some help," he admitted. "But that's the way it is. Come on, Daniel, don't you have any faith in those folks?"

Daniel's head jerked up and Jack smiled at his glare. "I guess that means you do. Good. So do I. They'll deal with what happened and move on. We need to do the same." He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"Maybe it's just as well we didn't have time to figure out how that shield worked. Now that I think about it, it really wasn't that great a weapon, long-term."

"What?" the archeologist said in astonishment.

"Okay, I admit that shield is one hell of a defense. But it does have one big weakness."

"Weakness?" Daniel bristled. He couldn't explain why but he felt protective toward the long-ago aliens who had brought the ancient Egyptians to Kemet. "What weakness?"

"It protects the Stargate," Jack acknowledged, "but we know the Gou'ald have ships. Hell, we blew up Ra's. There's nothing to prevent them from coming back in a ship."

Daniel blinked at the older man before he suddenly realized that Jack didn't know the whole story. How could he? The linguist hadn't told him.

"It doesn't matter, Jack," he said with a faint smile. "The shield protects more than the Stargate. Remember after it was activated, its effect gradually spread from the area immediately surrounding the Stargate across the plateau?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Hell, how could I forget that? I thought for sure those Jaffa furthest from the 'gate would get us before the shield got them."

"Well, the shield's effects didn't stop there on the plateau. It continued to spread until the entire planet was shielded."

O'Neill stared at him, open-mouthed, then scowled. "Why in the hell didn't you tell me this sooner?"

Daniel gave a small shrug. "You said it yourself. We were a little pressed for time. Besides, what difference would it have made if you knew?"

Jack started to retort, then stopped. As he mulled this over he had to admit the kid was right. It wouldn't have made any difference if he had known about the full power of the shield beforehand. But now that he knew the whole story, he really wished they'd been able to figure out how it worked.

"Well," he said finally, "I'm just glad it wasn't turned on when we came through the 'gate. Teal'c would've been dead before we knew what had happened."

Daniel nodded. That was one thing he could be grateful for.

"But it's working fine, now, right?" O'Neill said unexpectedly.

The archeologist looked up to meet his C.O.'s dark eyes and realized he needed a bit more affirmation. Daniel's mind flashed back to Kemet and the sight of all the dead and dying Jaffa sprawled across the plateau. He closed his eyes but the images remained.

"Yes," he said quietly. "It's working just fine now."

"Still . . . it's too bad we didn't have time to figure out the technology," O'Neill mused, unable to let go of the idea. "We sure as hell could use that here."

The military mind, Daniel thought bitterly. "We lost much more than that, Jack. Kemet's history could have shed a great deal of light on our own. That's knowledge we will probably never have now."

Jack shook his head. "I'm sure all that's very interesting, Daniel, but we're not in this to learn about culture. We need to find ways to protect ourselves from the Gou'ald."

It was Daniel's turn to shake his head. "Jack, the cultural knowledge we just lost on Kemet is undoubtedly the tip of the iceberg. Just think of the possibilities out there in the galaxy, not to mention the scientific aspects that I'm sure Sam wants to find. There is so much to learn out there, and so much of it can help us to better understand ourselves and our own past."

"Look, Daniel," O'Neill said, "all that won't mean squat when the Gou'ald show up in our airspace - and we know damn well that's going to happen sooner or later - to blow the hell out of this planet."

"So that's it?" the archeologist said quietly. "Military objectives are all that matter here?"

Jack felt uncomfortable under those intense blue eyes. He recognized the kid's disappointment and regretted it but he wasn't going to lie to make him feel better. "I'm not saying that if we come across some interesting bit of technology or cultural stuff out there - providing we have time to check it out - that we're going to ignore it. But as far as our primary mission is concerned, we're looking for stuff to help us fight the Gou'ald. Like that weapon that turned the pyramid to dust. It could help us to survive a Gou'ald attack."

The archeologist looked at him for a long moment. "Even if we'd had the time, Jack, I doubt if we could have figured it out. That shield was obviously extremely advanced alien technology. And now that it's been activated, no one can pass through the Stargate, coming or going. Remember? It will kill any Gou'ald or Jaffa who tries."

O'Neill listened, slightly suspicious. The kid had dropped the argument suspiciously fast, which definitely wasn't his usual M.O. But he really didn't want to get into a full-blown squabble right now so Jack decided to go along with it. Recalling their brief, tension-charged discussion while on the staircase inside the plateau, he said,

"And it keeps ordinary people from going through, too?"

"Yes."

"Like some kind of force field," Jack remembered.

That finally won a smile from the exhausted-looking archeologist. "Yes, Jack, like the force fields in those sci-fi movies you watched as a kid."

Jack smirked. "Hey, they kept me out of my mom's hair on Saturdays for years."

Daniel shook his head but his smile widened and Jack felt a distinct sense of victory. He wasn't going to lay into the younger man tonight; the kid had more than enough on his plate. Later Jack would make sure certain that the archeologist understood the importance of following orders. Later he would remind the kid in no uncertain terms that while he could question his C.O.'s orders when things were peaceful, he was not to question them during a hostile situation.

But that would come later.

"Better get your things together," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I intend to leave this mountain in a little while and you're coming with me."

"But - "

"Ah!" Jack interrupted, having expected this. "You're exhausted, you're supposed to be resting, and if Frazier finds out what you've really been doing she'll have your ass back in an infirmary bed before you know what hit you. Now, you can go home with me or go back to the infirmary. Your choice."

Frustrated, Daniel eyed the books spread across the top of his work surface and then the monitor. "Jack, there are so many unanswered questions. I need to - "

Jack cut him off ruthlessly. "Home or infirmary," he said firmly, remembering that he needed to make a telephone call. "You think about it because when I come back you're leaving this place, one way or the other."

Daniel glared after the tall figure as it disappeared out his door. Of all the unmitigated meddling meanies!

He started at the thought. It had been one of his mother's favorite phrases, most often used against her husband when he insisted that she stop work to eat or sleep. He hadn't thought of it since their deaths.

Daniel's vision blurred and he had to blink rapidly for a moment. Of all the unmitigated meddling meanies . . . he looked again at the now empty doorway and felt the unaccountable tightness in his throat easing. It had been a very long time since someone had cared what happened to Daniel Jackson.

The archeologist began to close his books carefully, one after the other. He had no intention of going back to the infirmary and Jack had made it clear that he had only one other alternative. Home.

Home. Daniel paused in his cleaning up, then laughed softly. He was going to have to go home with an unmitigated meddling meanie.

He could live with that.

But first he had some unfinished business to tend to. Daniel he glanced quickly at the clock on the wall, hoping that Sam was still on the base.

Sam was still in the mountain and she was not happy about that. But she had no choice. She had promised herself that she could leave after she had finished her report. But it had taken much longer to write than she expected. And if she had felt bad before she sat down to write it, she felt worse now.

In her lab, she stared blankly at her computer screen. Sam wasn't used to making mistakes and the taste was bitter. But worse, she wasn't used to failure, and that feeling made her want to gag. Worst of all was gazing at her finished report. Putting her failure into words for the Colonel and General to read had been one of the hardest things she had ever done.

Sam closed her eyes at the thought. She knew that her memories of her first official off-world mission as part of SG-1 would always be tainted by her failure on P3-575.

It had all been so different than she had expected, had hoped -

A knock on the door brought her sharply erect. Had the Colonel returned? But no, the tentative rap on the door bore no similarity to the Colonel's authoritative knock.

"Come in," she called.

To her relief and surprise, Daniel appeared on the other side of the door, his arm in a neat sling. His shy, hesitant smile made it clear that he was not certain of his welcome. Well, she could fix that.

"Hello, Daniel. This is a nice surprise."

"Thanks." He came further into the room, casting a curious glance around her still-in-the-process-of-being-unpacked-lab. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No," Sam shook her head. "I was just working on my report."

Daniel's smile dwindled. "The report, yes. I guess I should - "

"Don't worry about it. There's plenty of time to finish it."

He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and she suddenly wanted nothing so much as to put him at ease.

"Grab a stool, for heaven's sake. And tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Sam hadn't tried teasing him before and she wasn't certain how he would respond. She was pleased when he was able to give her a brief quirk of a smile.

"How're your hands?" he asked as he sat down.

She looked down at those bandaged members. "A little stiff and sore," she admitted, "but nothing Dr. Frazier's pain medication can't handle." Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. "But I suspect you didn't come here just to inquire about my hands."

He flushed and shifted in the chair. "I had an idea that I was hoping you might be able to help me with."

She nodded encouragingly. "I'll be happy to help, if I can. What's your idea?"

"I was just talking to Jack and he says that the SGC is only concerned with military objectives. Is that the official policy? Of the SGC, I mean."

"I haven't seen anything in writing but I wouldn't be surprised. It does makes sense." She made her tone as gentle as she could, knowing her response would not make the archeologist happy.

"Sam," Daniel said diffidently, "don't you think it's a good idea to also explore the cultural aspects of the societies we're going to be encountering?"

Sam opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She had a fine line to walk here. As 2IC of SG-1 she had an obligation to support her C.O. But she hated to see Daniel so miserable, his slumped shoulders eloquent of his distress. Besides, she had her own hobby horse to ride. She recognized the importance of military objectives but she suspected that the possible scientific and technological information waiting to be discovered on another planet might equal or surpass anything military.

"Speaking personally," she said carefully, " I think that it would be helpful to explore the cultural and scientific aspects of the cultures we encounter during future missions. However, I am not the one that sets policy at the SGC."

"Well, I think the SGC is being short-sighted." The words came out flat and uninflected, and were all the more powerful because of it.

Sam sat back in surprise as she gazed at the unassuming young scientist but immediately realized her error.

In the beginning, she had been so sure it was a mistake to allow Daniel to be part of SG-1. But how critical had his presence just proved to be on P3-575? He was the entire reason for the mission's initial success. Not to mention the fact that, without Daniel, they would have had no clue about the shield protection, much less how to activate it. Without that protection all of SG-1 would have died.

And equally important, at least to Sam, was Daniel's heedless, headlong effort to save her. When the ground opened up so unexpectedly beneath her feet, she hadn't had time to do anything. If not for Daniel, she would have been the one who had fallen through that hole; she would have been the one injured or killed.

Sam looked up to meet those intense blue eyes, and the last of her objections to having a civilian on SG-1 disappeared.

"You may be right," she admitted, "but I don't see that there's anything we can do about it."

"Maybe there is," he said.

She was surprised by the unexpected glint in his eyes. Though she didn't know the archeologist well, Sam had the sudden feeling that he was up to something.

Suddenly wary, she said, "Like what?"

"You've worked in the Pentagon, Sam. You know lots of important people, don't you?"

"Some," she said cautiously. "Why?"

But he disregarded her question for his own. "People important enough to convince the SGC to broaden their policies?"

Uh-oh. Now she saw where the young man was going. "Daniel, I really don't think - "

"Come on, Sam," he urged. "We both know how important this is. Who could we contact?"

"Daniel, I cannot go against - "

"But you're not! If this works, you'll be helping the SGC to take a more healthy, more realistic look at the civilizations we encounter in the future. It we're willing to look for more than just weapons, think how much we could learn traveling through the Stargate!"

Caught in that mesmerizing blue gaze, Sam could feel her objections crumbling. Besides, she had to admit she agreed with his thinking.

"Well," she said weakly.

Daniel smiled hopefully and Sam felt her lips reluctantly curving upwards as well. "So what exactly do you want us to do?"

"I think we should write a letter," the archeologist said immediately and she realized that he had been thinking about this. "To someone with the authority to order the SGC to assess missions in terms of their possible cultural and scientific aspects, as well as military."

Sam's mouth opened and closed, then she coughed. "Oh," she managed faintly, "is that all?"

"So who would we send the letter to?" he insisted.

Talk about thinking outside the box! Sam stared at him for another moment while she tried to wrap her mind around his plan.

"Ultimately," she said slowly, "only the President has the authority to change the SGC's mission parameters."

"So we'll send our letter to him!"

"No," Sam rejected that idea. "Any letter would have to go through too many levels to get to him. It's unlikely he would receive it."

She had been thinking out loud and was dismayed to see Daniel deflating before her.

"So, how would we . . ." he started to ask in a subdued voice and Sam couldn't stand to see his disappointment.

"It could still work. We could send the kind of letter you're thinking about to someone close to the President. That would not only win us, hopefully, some support high up, but it's more likely the President would receive it."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "So who?"

"There are a couple of possibilities," Sam said, considering them. "But first, why don't you tell me exactly what you want to say in this letter of yours?"

By the time they had finished the letter, she had made her decision. One of the officers who had been part of Sam's original team at the Pentagon was - as she remembered - related to the man who was now the President's Chief of Staff. She would contact the officer, reminisce about the good old days, and request that he pass along an innocent letter.

By the time she finished relating her plan to Daniel, he was nodding. "And the Chief of Staff?" he asked. "He could get our letter to the President?"

"As I recall," Sam smiled, "his office is about twenty feet from the Oval Office. Don't worry. He'll be able to get the letter to the President."

"Good." Daniel's response was so soft that she nearly missed it. As she looked at him, Sam realized that the young man didn't look well.

Well, no wonder, she scolded herself. Look at all he had been through in the last 48 hours. In fact, now that Sam thought about it, he had held up as well as any soldier could have.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

Now why didn't she believe him?

"You look like you need to go home," Sam insisted.

He shrugged - or tried to. His sudden pallor made her wince. Instinctively she reached out to offer him a reassuring pat but a flash of pain up her arm made her pull back. Daniel glanced from her bandaged hand to the sling that held his injured shoulder still, then gave her a rueful look.

"Aren't we a pair," he noted. "And Jack would fit right in."

"I hope this isn't a sign of things to come," Sam said, hoping to coax a better smile from the archeologist.

"What?"

"Running for home with hostiles right behind us. A bit unnerving to have that happen on our first mission. I hope it isn't a sign of how our future missions are going to go."

She was pleased to see that wonderful shy smile finally appear on his bruised face.

"We can hope - "

They both jumped as the door banged open to reveal their C.O. "All right you two, enough with the techno-crap. It's time to get something to eat."

Sam and Daniel exchanged glances and she said cautiously, "Sir, the commissary is closed at this time of night. There won't be anything but cold sandwiches - "

She stopped when O'Neill smirked at her. "You're new to the area, Carter. I happen to know this great place called O'Malley's. They've got steaks that will melt in your mouth. I called in an order and the guard topside just called to say it was here. They're bringing the stuff down to my office. Let's go. We'll pick up Teal'c on the way."

He watched benevolently at the two youngest members exchanged quick looks before standing up and following him out. As Jack strode down the corridor he said over his shoulder, "Daniel, what was the stuff the gods on Olympus used to eat? You know, the food of the gods?"

As he waited for a response, he could practically feel Daniel's eyebrows rising.

"Ambrosia, Jack."

"Yep," O'Neill nodded. "Well, O'Malley's puts that stuff to shame. You'll see."

He thought he heard a faint snicker behind him but ignored it. Growing pains were no fun, Jack thought, but at least they didn't last. It would take some work but he figured that, in time, his team was going to be just fine. He would make sure of that.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah, Daniel?"

"Do we get to sleep in tomorrow?"

Thinking of the injuries the members of SG-1 had sustained during their first mission, O'Neill knew it would be awhile before any of them - well, except for Teal'c - would be ready for anything vigorous. However, there was no law that said he couldn't pull Daniel's chain.

"We've got P.T. at 0800 tomorrow," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?! Jaacckk . . ."

Jack grinned at Daniel's plaintive protest. Yep. SG-1 was going to be just fine.

END
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