Verily, verily I say unto you,
Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die,
it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
John 12:24

1. Daniel

"They all got up and left? But they seemed pleasant to me."

"Well, my theories were certainly unorthodox. Imagine what your people would have said if someone had made a similar claim about something historically important to you. I was terribly underfunded then, and they couldn't really afford to side with me, and risk becoming a bum too."

Daniel could just make out the outline of a frown on Jonas' features, his teeth shining against the darkness of the night outside the car window. He wanted to look closer to try and find the Kelownan's deeply hidden sarcasm, but he could only afford a glace before the traffic warranted his attention. "Well it still wasn't very nice."

"The academic community on Earth isn't all that nice. But they're out there digging in the dessert, getting covered in dust and scratching their heads at writings they can't even begin to understand when I'm ..."

" ... You're living it."

Daniel felt a grin creeping inevitably across his face. "Of course I still spend a good deal of time in the desert scratching my head at unintelligible writing."

"But you get to scratch your head on alien planets."

"And I'm one of the few archaeologists who carries a gun, not including Indiana Jones, of course."

"I've never read anything of his."

Daniel chuckled, he and Jonas had so much in common to talk about that he sometimes forgot that he didn't have the same knowledge base. With Teal'c it was easy to remember to explain things. It wasn't just that Jonas looked human, but this feeling that he often got, as though they'd known each other their entire lives. "That's because he's not real. He's a movie character. Carries a whip, deals with supernatural artifacts, hates snakes. Tell you what,=, when we get home, we'll head over to my place and watch it. It's been a long trip, we deserve a break."

"I thought we were taking a break." It certainly had been a vacation for the two of them - an archaeological conference in Chicago. Daniel's old colleagues had definately been surprised to see him, especially after he'd disappeared from academia nearly eight years ago. They were drawn to his lecture out of curiosity, nothing more, but they'd stayed the entire time, unlike the last lecture he'd given. He got the last laugh, though. Showing up well dressed, with a young and particularly happy-go-lucky assistant to give what he had to admit was a brilliant lecture on Egyptian burial techniques, even if it was just a ploy to encourage archaeologists to take ultrasounds of canopic jars before opening. Hopefully this would give the SGC advanced warning before they had another problem like Sarah/Osiris on their hands.

"So we were. But as much as I enjoyed seeing my old friends' -no, colleagues- mouths drop, it's good to do something completely non-work related."

"If only the Colonel could hear you now. He thinks that you and I never do anything but work."

"Well, we are going to go home and watch a movie about an archaeologist - though we don't really see him do a lot of archaeology in between the fighting and the beautiful women."

"There are beautiful women? You didn't mention that before."

"Jonas, I'm surprised at you. Is that all you think about?" He teased. Jonas was probably one of the greatest intellectual minds he had ever encountered. He was even beyond Sam in most things and could probably do her job as well if he wasn't so gracious. Still, he had this childish innocence about him that kept Daniel from being intimidated and often invited teasing.

"Well I obviously think about archaeology. And right now I'm thinking we should stop for food."

"That's quite a repertoire, Jonas: women, science, and pizza."

"Pizza sounds good. Can we get one with pineapples, anchovies and peanut butter?"

"Jonas, do you want me to throw up?"

"Not particularly, Daniel. Why, do you feel sick?"

"It's just anchovies and ... "

"Pull over."

"I'm not really going to throw ..."

"Pull over!"

Daniel jerked the car right off the highway, sending them against their seatbelts and causing the cars rushing past them to honk maliciously. He'd barely opened his mouth to ask about the sudden need to pull over when Jonas leapt our of the passenger seat and began a mad dash across six lanes of speeding traffic. Daniel felt his heart stop as he watched the alien dodge the fast moving vehicles, nothing more than brush strokes of color on a black canvas from his point of view, missing a permanent splash of blood on the pavement by luck alone. "God." He breathed. He would have to explain the dangers of car/person collisions and the wisdom of crossing highways in the middle of the night, wearing black.

Daniel waited until there was absolutely no one coming and ran across. He didn't see any body parts along the way - a good sign. The other side of the road was a field, with a few bushes dappling yellowed grass before reaching a patch of taller grass. He stumbled down the embankment toward a black lump peaking above the grass. He could only assume that Jonas was hunched over something. "What's the matter? You scared me half to death."

Jonas turned, arms soaked in blood, tears welling in his eyes, almost giving Daniel his second heart attack of the night. "It's hurt."

"What's hurt?"

Daniel edged closer, seeing the dark form that Jonas was hovering over. He could barely make it out. It couldn't be. "Jonas, I think you should stand up very slowly and step back towards me."

"But it's hurt. It needs our help."

"Jonas, that's a black bear - an adolescent one, but still capable of ripping you to pieces, especially when hurt and cornered. Please, I'll call someone to help it. Now get up."

"It doesn't understand this world Daniel. Humans are responsible for its injuries - it's our duty to help it." His voice was full of passion and a certain tone of melancholy that Daniel was not used to hearing from his abnormally cheery compatriot.

Daniel reached for the gun Jack had made him take along just in case they did run into another archaeologist-turned-Goa'uld, extending it slowly as Jonas reached down to scope up the body before him. "It's okay, Daniel. It's not going to hurt me."

Daniel felt his hand shake. He had been trapped on Goa'uld motherships, had his head invaded by alien lifeforms, been stranded deep under the ocean, fought in numerous battles, but he had never felt such primal fear. The bear was completely conscious, dark eyes staring up suspiciously close to Jonas' throat, blood slipping from a crippled paw to untouched white flesh looking just enough like the aftermath of an attack to make Daniel shiver. One move and his friend would be dead.

"You're not going to shoot me, are you?" He could only gawk. "Do you think you could get the car? He's kind of heavy." Daniel had to fight to tear himself away from the scene as Jonas took his time moving forward, grunting from the strain. How was he going to explain the loss of their resident Naquahdria expert and team member to bear mauling after an archaeology symposium? Then again, stranger things had happened.

2. Jack

"Jonas did what?!"

"He rescued a wounded bear from the side of the highway."

"Jesus Christ! He's insane! Why do we let him off base at all?"

Daniel furrowed his eyebrows playfully. "I don't know, Jack, aren't you the one who approves that kind of thing?"

"Shut up, Daniel. Tell that bear hugging idiot to get is ass in here so I can yell at him, will you?"

"Yes, Sir." Daniel gave a mock salute. Jack just rolled his eyes, Two mad scientists ... what am I going to do with them?

Jack stared down at the stack of personnel files on his desk and groaned. Hammond had said that they were grounded to let Daniel and Jonas go to some Geek show, but he knew that the real reason was to force him to stop procrastinating on his paperwork. He was in a love hate relationship with the military. It gave him big guns, let him romp around on alien planets, let him save the world, but there were two major trade-offs, well maybe three, but he wasn't going to think about the third one, even thinking about it was against regulations. Problem 1: Politics. Problem 2: Bureaucracy. Paperwork, a subset of problem two, was the bane of his existence. You had to fill our forms in triplicate to get a new roll of toilet paper around here. Sometime he wondered why they didn't skip the toilet paper and just use the forms. Speaking of paper, he should stop bitching and hop to it.

Just as he settled down at his desk, squiggling as best he could into that monstrosity of a military issue desk chair, he heard footsteps the door.

Four knocks, followed by some very unmilitary shuffling, signaled ... "Well if it isn't Doctor Doolittle himself." He grumbled as he moved from his semi-comfortable seated position to open the door.

"Who's ..." He had on the meek grin today. At least he's expecting what's coming to him.

"What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed! I don't know if you've forgotten, but you're not just Joe Smith. You're a member of a team, a key specialist in the technologies that could be used against the Goa'uld, and a friend. You can't just go around risking you neck every time your ecological consciousness calls!"

Jonas was cowering in the corner. Jack could see his inner deliberations: desire to please verses what's on his mind. His voice shook only slightly as he met Jack's eyes. "It was in pain, I couldn't just do nothing. I could feel its suffering"

"Yes, you could have. It's a wild animal; you've got to be careful. You should have listened to Daniel."

"How was I supposed to know that it was dangerous?"

"Hmmm ... let's see. How about the claws and the sharp teeth?"

"Bears always seemed nice on television."

"I thought you only watched the weather channel."

"Yeah, there's this bear that keeps telling me to prevent forest fires."

"Ahh, you're one of the many to be seduced by the machinations of Smokey."

"Machinations, Sir?" He could recognize that voice anywhere. He tried to resist turning to meet bright blue eyes and straw blond hair.

"Yes, machinations, Carter. I've been reading the dictionary." Two seconds, nearly double his normal time. Good boy, Jack. I knew you could ... damn she looks hot, even though I've seen her in the black shirt and blue pants a thousand times ... Shut up.

"Me too! I find the P words particularly fascinating. 'Phantasmagoric,' now there's a word."

Jack utilized a careful eyebrow raise, though he was still a novice under Tealc's wise tutelage. Sam followed suit.

"What?" Jonas asked innocently, though Jack could never really tell if he was putting it on. No one could possibly be that dense, could they?

"Well, Carter, you just missed Jonas' declaration of love for Smokey the bear." He tried to give her a winning grin.

"Too bad. Anyway, Sir, I just came down to see if you wanted my help."

"Help, Carter? I think I've got the toilet paper requisition forms down by now."

"Well, Sir, since you are doing the annual base maintenance report ..."

"That time of year already? Time flies when you're having fun." He dug through the pile to a pink form snug in the middle, a frown etched on his strong features. God, am I that far behind? he thought with a sigh.

"I thought you might use a ... um ... summary of some of the more technical ..." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Jonas creeping stealthily toward the door, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Wait a second. Wasn't I just in the middle of yelling at you?" He wanted to be mad, but he was really grudgingly getting to like the kid. True, he was annoying a good percentage of the time, but it was beginning to grow on him. It was nice having a little optimism some of the time -especially after Daniel seemed to have lost a lot of it- even if the only thing he could find to do with optimism was poke fun at it.

"No, Sir. I believe we were discussing the skullduggery of a particular member of the genus Ursus."

"Skullduggery?" Two eyebrow raises in one day, he was on a roll.

"Haven't gotten to S yet, Sir?" Carter offered him a wry smile and earned herself a punch on the arm for the effort.

"Well, Jonas, I'm going to let you off the hook this time - you being an alien and all, but if you know the bear's genome."

"Genus."

"Whatever. You should know that it's dangerous. Put all that supposed brainpower of yours to some use. Now that you know better, you'll act more responsibly." He fixed Jonas with his best I'm-in-command-so-you-better-listen stare, but he could see a twinkle in the young man's eye that told him that he would do the same in a heartbeat. Luckily, they would being going to an alien world tomorrow, assuming he got through that stack of papers, where he could keep an eye on the boy wonder. All of this defiance ... he was clearly spending way too much time with Daniel.

"Thank you, Sir. I'll leave the two of you to it, then." Jonas gave them a scrupulous look. He really is that observant. Damn him. Luckily for him, Jonas mad it out the door before Jack could glare at him.

"Well, Carter, what's been happening with the machine-children this year?"

3. Daniel

He was there again. This place was timeless. He could return to it with the flutter of an eyelid, a single beat of the heart. In the ever-changing chaos of his life it was the one thing that remained constant.

The regal amethyst of the silent sea extending into infinity, rippling across his vision to fall submissively at his feet without a sound of complaint ... the warm wind whipping across the gray swirl of the dunes slipping between the atoms of his being like water through a sieve, extruding all the turmoil of emotions until the pain and regret melted into the horizon, where earth and sky met in an honest embrace ... it was all there for him to adopt, taunting him. Timelessness called to his corporeal form, emphasizing its weakness. There was knowledge in that ocean, as in the pale orange sky, the clouds dancing from one shape to the next in holy reverence. There was knowledge all around: in every small grain of sand, in the flow of the tide, in the void between things that watched the universe make and unmake itself a million times over. He sighed, exhaling worry and drawing in warmth and energy.

"Remember." The voice was deep and warm, dimensionless as it reverberated against itself. He recognized part of it as his own, but there was something else in it, a sea of compassion as vast as the ocean before him, and a sorrow as deep.

He could feel the pure joy of this place, beyond the concerns that tugged at his soul. Even as the suns and the sea and the breeze cleansed him, there would always be that part that call back to the mortal coil, the bonds of love there enough to compel his ethereal presence the way the wind twists and turns the pale haze of smoke as it rises from the passion of fire.

And then his body was calling to him. The first sense to return was pressure, the hand laid delicately on his shoulder - alien at first. Then smell awakened from its sleep, inhaling the dusty musk of his lab - the smell of old books and artifacts. Sound returned alarmingly, a new voice, so bright it startled his eyes with blinding light before vision disentangled itself from the fusion of emotions and senses that composed his inward eye. "You were wrong, I still have my head."

Daniel opened his eyes to Jonas' smiling face, as the young man removed his hand from his shoulder, holding him with the look of pure concern in his eyes, "You were there again, weren't you."

He didn't have to nod; they both knew Jonas was right. He just squinted, raising a heavy hand to his temple, body awkward. How could Jonas read him so well? They had become close very quickly after Jonas had taken that staff-blast for him. It was more than just the fact that they had each risked their lives saving each other, though. Jonas was the only one on the base who didn't expect him to be the old Daniel. He had all the memories of that Daniel, with very few extra. He looked the same ... he acted the same -for the most part- ... but he wasn't the same. There was this place, buried deep within his heart but floating on the outskirts of his mind, haunting him. There was that unspoken emptiness in every breath, the slight awkwardness in this conundrum of a body, and an undercurrent of regret, for all the things he had missed, even if he couldn't remember them. Sometimes he felt as though he did things because others expected it of him, or because they were what the old Daniel would have done.

Jonas was the only one who expected nothing and gave everything. He was the one who knew. "I think you and I have been spending too much time together."

"If that's how you feel, I'll leave." He sounded disappointed, but not judgmental.

"I wouldn't miss out on hearing Jack's response to your little escapade yesterday. Besides, this is your office too." Daniel looked up from where his eyes had been resting absently, with a smile. He felt some of the weight lifting.

Jonas leapt up onto the lab table, picking up a couple of the books Daniel had been reading, rifling through the pages. After he had gotten over some initial competitiveness, Daniel had surrendered to pure awe at the speed with which Jonas read. "Well, Jack knows the meaning of the word 'machinations.'"

"Impressive."

"And I'm still going on tomorrow's mission. Have you read the survey reports? There appears to be writings in the entry room. From first glance they seem to be a mixture of Latin, Ancient Greek, and Goa'uld. It's reminiscent of the language of the ancients. And the cave paintings, they're magnificently beautiful. I can't wait to see them in person." He smiled, barely looking up from the books laid out in his lap.

"There's so much beauty in the universe." Daniel sighed absentmindedly.

That statement did manage to tear Jonas away from his fascination with Daniel's book on Roman pottery in Britannia. Their eyes met, looking past each other to the wonder of existence around them, matching each other in intensity. "There's hardly enough time to take it all in."

"I think we have more time than you think." He whispered, thinking of the place.

Jonas nodded in silent understanding. Daniel could sense it within him: the growing belief, perhaps nurtured by some completely alien experience, that a part of them was indeed eternal.

The silence was striking, highlighting the elegance of the shadows in the dank underground room, but it was companionable.

Daniel would be the one to break the reverie; "I think we were about to watch Indiana Jones before that whole mess with the Colorado Fish and Wildlife service."

"Shouldn't we be working?"

"Working? We're just waiting for Jack to finish his paperwork before the mission tomorrow. Come on, we'll get some of that pineapple peanut butter anchovy pizza of yours, enjoy the beauty of life, etc. I can't concentrate on work right now."

"Me neither. I can't shake this feeling ..." Daniel raised his eyebrows in question. "Something tells me that things are about to change, drastically - that I should hold onto the moment while it lasts." Daniel nodded as they rose to leave. A moment could be a lifetime, he knew that much from his dreams.

4. Teal'c

He stepped out of the shimmering pool of light nonchalantly, immediately scanning the area for possible dangers. They always checked the MALP before leaving for a new world, but he never trusted the crude visual images it produced next to his own well honed senses.

His preliminary inspection confirmed the information from the MALP: no hostiles. In fact, no people. There wasn't even anything for people to hide behind, with the exception of a small pillar made out naquadah - he could feel its pull in his very blood, even now that his symbiote was gone. He also observed no entrances of exits from the chamber. Teal'c was pleased his team was not in immediate danger, but simultaneously displeased. All of the walls were covered with inscriptions from the floor to the lights that ringed the top of the dome. Teal'c could recognize some of the symbols, but he couldn't make any sense of them. This added to his displeasure - sitting in a room with no entrances or exits and no threats waiting for JonasQuinn and DanielJackson to translate what appeared to be hundreds of pages of alien text would make any warrior displeased.

"This looks like fun." O'Neill groaned. With O'Neill around, Teal'c never had to voice his displeasure. It made it all to easy to maintain his stoic exterior. Inwardly, he was bored. "And I was looking forward to some action to break up the monotony of paperwork."

"Personnel files too literary for you, Jack?"

"On the contrary, Daniel, I would almost rather read the dictionary."

"Really?"

"But enough about me. Why don't the two of you translators get ... um ... translating. The sooner you start the sooner we can get out of here.."

Seeing as he really had nothing else to do, Teal'c took a second of the many surveys he would undoubtedly make of the chamber. The walls sloped up to form a relatively high-ceilinged dome - large enough to contain the Stargate, at least. The floor was of a fine white sand, which oddly did not become airborne and cover everything when they stepped across it. The alternating blue and orange lights that ringed the ceiling cast an eerie glow over the floor as the colors blended and faded together. The writings were really quite aesthetically pleasing, with several paintings - a symbol that he did recognize.

"DanielJackson, is that not the symbol of Thoth?"

"What?" DanielJackson looked up from the altar, which he and MajorCarter were examining. Teal'c pointed to a drawing of a man with the head of a bird, holding a crude scale before him. The blue lighting of the room almost made his eyes glow. Teal'c chose to ignore this trick of light. This might be more interesting than he had originally thought, for Thoth had long been the servant of Anubis. "Yes, Teal'c that does look like Thoth."

"Thoth, haven't heard of him before. Sounds like a snakehead." O'Neill commented from where he was already seated on the steps leading to the Stargate, fiddling with the straps of his pack. O'Neill never really could stand still. Teal'c recalled fondly the times he tried to get him to meditate, of course he had missed out on a good 15 minutes of Kel'no'rem, because of it.

"I don't think you would like him, Jack. He was the god of science, magic and paperwork. He supposedly invented the Egyptian writing system. He was especially known for a section in the book of the dead, where the souls of the dead are weighed against a feather. If the soul is heavier than a feather it is devoured by the eater of souls. If lighter, it is taken to Anubis, who leads them to the underworld. Thoth is depicted as a rather passive figure, recording the judgment. I always assumed that we had never encountered temples or writings about him because he was not really an active participant in much of the in-fighting part of the mythos. In this image, however, he, not Anubis seems to be the one handling the scales, passing judgment."

"On the contrary, DanielJackson, Thoth has always been active. He is an underling of Anubis, and has been so for centuries. He does not generally participate in battle and is rarely seen, keeping only a small guard of very adept Jaffa for his own protection. His main function has always been technological development."

"Do you think he is responsible for Anubis' state of partial ascension?"

"I do not know. Last I heard he was experimenting with genetics."

"Like Nirti?" Teal'c looked immediately to JonasQuinn. He usually flinched when he heard her name spoken. He couldn't blame him; she had invaded the most private part of him. If you don't have rights to your on genetic code, what rights do you have, after all? Teal'c would never say this out loud, but he considered what Nitri had done to Jonas tantamount to rape - the worst kind of violation, short of being taken as a host.

JonasQuinn didn't react this time, however. In fact, JonasQuinn had been uncharacteristically quiet since they arrived. He knew the mythology as well as DanielJackson, yet he did not jump in enthusiastically, but continued to stand still and tall as the obelisk, staring at the strange writing carved perfectly down its length as though it contained the meaning of life itself.

"What does it say, JonasQuinn?" Teal'c allowed the slight hint of concern to slip into his voice. Despite his cool exterior, Teal'c cared vary much for JonasQuinn. It had been nice to have another non-native on base with him. He was no longer the one that every stared at, mouths open, when he made comment. He even had plenty of advice to offer the other alien, and had taken him under his tutelage for acclimation to Earth. They had many intimate moments of humor as they observed the eccentricities of human behavior. Though it happened less and less, especially with Dr. Jackson's return, he helped JonasQuinn to cope with the many glares he received in the hallways from those who blamed him for DanielJackson's supposed death.

"Hmm?" Flustered Green eyes roamed to find his, just burying a look of intense discomfort in their friendly depths.

"You have been staring at the obelisk."

"It just seems familiar, that's all."

DanielJackson frowned, approaching the marker, and running his hand down the writings, as though he could find the message in the material itself. "It says, 'I will destroy the something and the something will fall apart.'"

"That was helpful, Daniel." O'Neill squinted sarcastically. "Now if we can find out anything about Anubis' genetic experiments from this, it might make up for all the sitting on my ass staring at the ceiling I'm going to have to do."

"Well, it appears to be made out of a Naquadah enhanced compound. It also seems to contain some sort of ..." MajorCarter began as a set of rings descended from the ceiling, causing DanielJackson to dive out of the way, knocking JonasQuinn over. Teal'c didn't have to think as he raised his staff weapon to the man the stone circles left in their wake, his reflexes were automatic.

O'Neill had bolted to his feet with his P-90 pointed at the intruder, and MajorCarter had done the same, finishing her sentence apprehensively, " ... mechanical structure."

"Hello, I'm Nuscha. Welcome to Golgotha." He was a lean young man, attired in a simple white robe with the symbol of a lyre embroidered over the heart. He had long blond hair and a layer of fine, nearly-white hairs for a beard that surrounded a broad and inviting smile. His eyes were a brilliant amber color, filled with passion and truth. Even the mistrusting warrior in Teal'c, the man who had even questioned the God he had served loyally since he could talk, couldn't help but trust him. He lowered his staff weapon as the man lowered himself to the ground in quick and genuine supplication. "I have been waiting all my life for this day."

"Christmas?" O'Neill smirked.

"The day that you would come."

"How did you know we had arrived?" MajorCarter asked with a smile, P-90 already swinging carelessly in front of her.

"I felt it in my heart." The young man gave her a brief smile and moved toward where JonasQuinn was still lying on the floor, immobile. Teal'c could not tell whether or not it was fear or reverence or something else entirely that had kept him there. Nuscha helped him to his feet, keeping their eyes lock together the entire time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," JonasQuinn said, barely keeping the wonder from his voice. At least he was acting a bit more normal - normal for JonasQuinn, of course.

"The honor is all mine. Come, see your people."

"My people?"

"In time your heart will find its own path."

"How very clich." O'Neill grunted, a glare in his eyes. Teal'c wondered why.

Nuscha dragged JonasQuinn over to the ring platform, Jonas looking over his shoulder with a shrug and a look of confusion. He was so easy going he would go along with nearly anything that did not cause pain to others. Teal'c never thought this attitude to be very wise. In fact, he had listened to O'Neill complain about some incident with a bear -whatever that was- as an example of how he was too trusting. Then again, I feel myself strangely trusting of this man. Teal'c thought, shifting his hand higher up on his weapon and forcing his mindset to return to vigilance. A small part of him knew this was overcompensation, but he forced those thoughts as far from the forefront of his mind as he could.

As Nuscha embraced JonasQuinn, Teal'c overheard DanielJackson tell O'Neill quietly, "Golgatha, place of the skull."

"Lovely."

"Please," Nuscha indicated the circle made by the impression of the rings in the sand and Teal'c stepped inside it with the others. Nuscha slid his fingers down the obelisk to the last symbol, which Teal'c recognized as the symbol for Thoth, and pressed it.

Teal'c felt the familiar loosening of his atoms as they were transported many feet to the surface.

5. Sam

Samantha Carter was pleasantly surprised at the vision that awaited them when they reached the surface. The chamber containing the Stargate, which she could only assume was underground, had been musty and dark, an eerie glow cast by artificial lights imparting a deep sense of foreboding. It had been all she could do to keep herself from shivering. Compared to the chamber, the temple -she guessed it was a temple- was a sanctuary of light. It, too, possessed a dome structure, though one so high that the ring of skylights that illuminated it were barely visible against the sterile white marble walls. The walls were intricately carved in bass-relief, depicting gatherings of people, many of them studying books. The theme of the weighing scale was repeated, but here it did not have the ominous feel of the last judgment upon it. In fact, she thought on most of the figures here warmly inviting. They were familiar; yet fresh as the white marble they were carved from.

She let her P-90 swing by her side - there were people here, but they were all carved from stone: marble status, much like those she remembered from childhood trips to museums. There was even one that looked suspiciously like Michelangelo's David.

"Amazing," Daniel breathed. He had practically grown up in a museum, after all. He of all people would appreciate this. "Look at this masonry! This must have taken ages. How many statues must there be here? And all in perfect condition!"

"342." Nuscha answered, almost casually - though Sam could detect a small amount of pride in his voice. Sam couldn't help but be attracted to this strange young man - in a completely platonic way, of course. He had this ethereal grace in his movements, as though every action down to the smallest was divined by some higher power. He walked with destiny behind him and his passion for life practically shone from his eyes, illuminating everything around it. She knew it was the physicist in her speaking, but she almost felt as though he was operating in his own reference frame, a reference frame so powerful and complex that it drew others into it, catapulting towards the speed of light and away from normalcy. But when you were in his reference frame, everything seemed perfectly fitting. You've been reading too much on relativity, Carter.

"How did you ... amazing." Daniel stuttered, distracted mid-sentence by the intricate carvings on the ceiling.

"You might want to close that mouth of yours, Dannyboy, you could land the Prometheus in there."

"Mmmhmmm." Daniel continued to gawk, nearly running head-on into a statue as he tried to walk and stare at the ceiling at the same time. Sam could barely stifle a giggle. What would the colonel say about that? He would just tease me. I love it when he teases me ... think about something else ... ruins, yes, ruins.

Upon closer examination, she noticed that there was only one thing that stopped this from being a completely restored and slightly alien version of the pantheon - other than the fact that it seemed dedicated to only one god, not many- and that was the obelisk that stood out like a redwood in a grove of pine trees, especially because it seemed to be the only writing in the place. This one was identical to the one in the lower chamber, except for a possible difference in the writings, and was probably the controls of the ring devices, now conveniently hidden in a circular representation of the world - not Earth, but Golgotha.

"So, Daniel, care to enlighten us about whatever's going on in that little head of yours, or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open?" Jack complained, tapping his foot impatiently. As much as she loved Jack, he could be annoying sometimes. He never seemed to stop and appreciate all of the beautiful things they'd seen on their adventures.

She admitted it was easy to become numb after wonder after wonder flashed before your eyes, but this was still breathtaking. She had sensed some numbing in herself, the curiosity of the scientist trudging along without all of the wonder, until Jonas joined the team over a year ago. She remembered fondly the pure awe he would show at the simplest things -on Earth and off-world- reminding her how much she took everything for granted. She wondered idly if he would ever lose the strange reverence he had for ... well ... nearly all of life.

Speaking of Jonas ... how come he hadn't tripped over a statue looking at the ceiling or started jumping up and down from excitement? If anything would amaze him, it would be this place. She let her eyes find him. He was staring at the largest statue in the place, a woman with magnificently large eyes and full lips curved into a mona-lisa-like smile, with perhaps a greater degree of mischievousness, hair curling down her features in playful ringlets, holding a bronze scale out before her and examining a long feather with her free hand, clearly meant to be taken from the owl that rested alert on her shoulder. Jonas was looking deep into her eyes, as though she were alive.

Sam came to stand next to him, "Penny for your thoughts."

"I thought pennies were pointless, at least that's what the Colonel says."

"It's an expression. It means, 'what are you thinking?'"

She expected him to make some comment about the exceptional beauty or craftsmanship of the statue, or even a long diatribe on ancient Greek and Roman mythology, but all Jonas said was, "She scares me." His voice was soft, a near whisper as though the mysterious woman could hear him through her statue. She could almost feel him tremble as he spoke.

"Do not worry about Minerva, my lord. You are far greater than she," Nuscha smiled, giving a slight bow. How he had overheard, Sam couldn't figure.

"I'm not your lord." Jonas sighed wistfully, the weight of the world seeming to descend upon his features as swift and silent as the night, clouding his normally sunny grin. She had not seen him look this tired since he had that tumor in his brain. Sam wanted to reach out and grab his hand, perhaps give him some strength to face whatever demons seemed to lurk in those barely-recognizable features. "Think about me as you would a brother, or a friend. Call me Jonas." The following lines were almost practiced, forgotten in Nuscha's sudden arrival in the chamber. "This is Major Carter,"

"Call me Sam." She didn't know what prompted her to offer her first name, just that she felt as though it would be wrong to inhibit the frankness that emanated almost palpably from the young man, with formalities.

"Yes, Sam," Jonas continued, "And that's Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c, and ..."

"Daniel." Daniel said, wandering over from where he had been examining a statue of an intensely muscular man, who she had heard Jack refer to as 'The Terminator of Ancient Rome.'

"Welcome, Daniel." Nuscha smiled, grin almost as bright as Jonas'. "You, too, have a great role to play." He turned to look at all of them in turn, grin broadening, "So do you all."

Sam saw Tealc's caustic eyebrow-raise from the corner of her eye, where he stood examining the entrance to the temple. Jack's remarks were not late in following, "Yeah, yeah, we've already saved the world like 8 times, what's a few more?"

"I believe it is 9 times."

"Thank you, Teal'c the ever-quantifying."

"You are welcome, O'Neill."

"Anyway. I've heard this whole you have potential for greatness crap before, from some little grey men who have been pretty damn undependable in helping us become great." Sam would give the Asgard a little more credit than that, though not much.

"I will help you as much as I can, though I have little to offer beyond my own faith."

"Joy."

Nuscha ignored Jack's sarcasm Thank God and walked over to where Jonas continued to stare at the statue. "You must come, my ... Jonas. I have but a meager token for you." He took Jonas' hand and began to lead him toward the exit with Teal'c in tow.

Jack followed grudgingly, calling to Sam as he left. "Keep a eye on Daniel for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, like trip over his own tongue while salivating over one of those statues."

"It's okay, Jack, I think I'm ready to go with you. This place seems to be created purely for aesthetic purposes. It's just as much a meaningless tribute as any other Goa'uld monument; it just seems less gaudy in the absence of all the gold and jewels and bangles. The only bit of writing in this place doesn't tell us much."

"What does it say?"

"It says the same thing as the other one, except this last word, which seems to mean complete ... or maybe ..."

"Triumphant." Jonas finished for him, brows furrowed in concentration, or perhaps worry.

"Yes, triumphant. And the only god -or should I say goddess?- being worshiped here is clearly Minerva. This is a shrine to education, writing, and justice. Though I find it odd that there are no writings here, especially compared to the lower chamber."

"Writing is a privilege, not a right." Nuscha said, as he ushered them toward the tunnel that lead from the temple, lined with small alcoves containing statues, each holding a lit torch in their hands. "All know how, but only the priests are allowed."

"Well that's very strange, for the patron goddess of education."

"Yes, the inner light of knowledge shines forth from her very eyes. Only those who earn the right to know the divine secrets can innovate, for naught would survive in the glow of such pure light. All study very hard so they might do this. Though the life of a priest is the hardest of all, many would do it in order to serve their god."

"And you?" Daniel asked, concerned.

"I would someday like to be able to write, but she is not my god. How can someone who regards her subjects as nothing more than numbers be a true god?"

"Are you the only one who feels this way?"

"No, but I am among few. People ask me what right I have to question - if my life is only happiness. Before Minerva ordered the world there was nothing but chaos and destruction. Now, there is no war, no poverty, no crime. I know of these things only through legend. Everyone has what they need and she asks nothing in return."

"She asks nothing? That doesn't sound very snakeheadish to me." Jack stared in disbelief.

"No, nothing, other than that we obey the laws."

"So she makes you build monuments in her honor?" He was insistent.

"No, this temple has been here all of our recorded history, we have filled the inside with art borne out of love for our caretaker. Only the best artists are allowed to display their work here."

"Do her laws require that you attend to little snakey creatures?"

"I do not know what you mean."

"What about fighting for her?

"Oh, no. Almost all of the population would gladly lay down their lives for her in battle, but she has never asked it of us. Still we train very hard in hopes of being one of the select few in her personnel guard."

"So what are these rules?" Jack seemed skeptical that any Goa'uld would make rules that didn't involve worshiping them. From what she'd seen of them, Sam tended to agree. But the Tok'ra must have started somehow, and she trusted them. Perhaps there were some Goa'uld who truly cared for their subjects, though she tended to doubt it.

"Oh, just basic ones. Don't kill, torture, steal or otherwise harm your neighbors, are the serious ones. There are a lot of rituals, but they're not punishable, everyone does them because they want to. They make life more interesting."

"Sounds like a utopia," Sam said, with little confidence.

"Or is it an ... untopia?" Jack mocked.

Daniel corrected him absently, "You mean distopia, Jack?"

"Yes, distopia. Besides, it doesn't matter how good she is, she's a Goa'uld and a false God and therefore has to be stopped."

This comment made Sam pause. She wondered if posing as a God was wrong if it really was a perfect as it seemed. She knew it couldn't be that perfect, but these people were happy. They lived lives without suffering, lives full or art and science and faith. She almost wished she could live somewhere where she didn't have to fight, when every scientific discovery wasn't just a hope for another military advantage and everyone strove to be their best, not for personal gain, but for fulfillment.

She almost hoped that this was truly an 'untopia,' because, if not, she wasn't sure whether or not she could ethically help to destroy it - even if it was run by a Goa'uld. If everyone benefited and no one was harmed, did it matter if it was a lie?

"I agree, O'Neill," Tealc's booming voice brought her back from her own thoughts, "I believe that stopping Thoth is the key to stopping Anubis."

"In mythology, Thoth only records. Anubis is the one that leads the way to the underworld."

"You mean, Cerberus?" Nuscha stopped walking to turn and look at Daniel, causing Jonas to walk straight into him.

"Sorry." What was wrong with Jonas today? He was so distracted.

"No problem."

Sam could almost see the wheels turning in Daniel's head. "Yes, of course. In Egyptian mythology, Anubis is the guardian of the underworld, represented by a jackal. In Roman mythology it is the 3 headed dog Cerberus that guards the entrance to the underworld. He is seen as being watchful, with no pity."

"Sounds like our man to me." Jack muttered, grasping his P-90 instinctively.

Daniel appeared to ponder, asking his question very deliberately, with a degree of urgency that they all felt in connection with Anubis. "Nushca, has Cerberus ever been here? Does Minerva ever see him?"

"Only once. Cerberus came and took some people away. Minerva became enraged, and insisted that those souls were not yet ready to travel to the afterlife. She said they were not ripe. Ceberus would not listen, and took them anyway. Minerva banished him from our world until it is our proper time."

"Did you witness this?"

"I was quite young. I was among those in the group that Minerva was showing to Ceberus to demonstrate what worthy souls we were, but I was not selected. Cerberus only took the best fighters." There seemed to be a hint of melancholy in his tone. At that time he had obviously believed whole-heartedly in his goddess. She wondered what had changed. "There was only one thing that Cerberus said that confused me, and puzzles me to this day."

"Only one?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"He accused her of, being weakened by her new host and urged her to remember their original goal."

"Minerva is the member of a species called the Goa'uld, who are essentially parasites. They take humans as hosts." Sam explained. Oddly, Nuscha seemed neither surprised nor concerned.

Of course, Daniel was already off on his mythological analysis. "Well, Athena -or Minerva in the Roman tradition- was said to spring from Zeus' head. Maybe it wasn't Zeus, but Thoth."

"You think that story's literal?" She asked.

"If springing from someone else's head isn't a description of switching hosts, I don't know what is."

Again, the scientist in her emerged. She couldn't help but believe in the inherent goodness of science and rationality. "I find it hard to think of Athena as being malicious. I mean, wasn't she supposedly the protector goddess of Athens, the seat of Western Philosophy?"

"Well, knowledge is power." Jack mumbled, speaking more aptly than he probably imagined. She adored these little flashes of brilliance in him. Perhaps that's why they got along so well. As much as she loved Daniel and Jonas, it was hard being around intellectual types all the time. Sometimes things just weren't a complex puzzle, and Jack always reminded her of that.

Still, she smiled shyly, admitting that she was guiltily indulgent in the powers of knowledge, for science was her altar. "To tell you the truth -though Dianna, the huntress, was always my favorite- I had a great deal of respect for her. I mean she was always pretty good, at least compared to the others."

"Feminist," Jack accused with a playful glare.

"Thank you, Sir." She had never pretended to be anything other than a feminist, since the day they met. What else could she be - one of the few women in both the military and the Stargate program? She wondered why it had taken him so long to finally point it out.

Daniel charged on, oblivious to their slightly flirtatious interlude. "Well, Thoth wasn't much different from Athena. He was the Egyptian god of knowledge, represented by the Ibis."

"Ibis?"

"Bubulcus ibis, family ardeidae." Jonas piped up, finally involved in the conversation - though a bit absently. It was the Jonas dictionary speaking, not the man.

"Thank you, Mr. Animal Planet. And I say it again: Ibis?"

"A bird, Jack. Which is interesting because Minerva's symbol was the owl."

"Family Strigidae, order ..."

"Shut up, Jonas."

"We're also forgetting that she was also the goddess of war. Though Mars was actually the God of battle, Minerva was responsible for the creation of all of the technology of warfare."

"As much as I'm loving all of this mythological speculation, Daniel. I'd like to kick some Goa'uld butt, or at least do some recon for later Goa'uld butt-kicking. So I ask you, Nuscha, are we there yet?"

6. Daniel

Daniel could barely contain his excitement. For just a moment, he was able to completely and utterly forget his past. When he blinked he did not see the dreamscape: the amethyst ocean and the gray dunes. If only he could be lost in present wonders like this forever. He could see why Jonas was always so "up." If you fascinated yourself with every detail, read through every book and filled your mind to the brim with information, mediating always on some new wonder, you'd never have to face that emptiness. You would never be alone in that place of self-pity or doubt on the brink of despair or perhaps enlightenment.

His mind was a circus of sound bytes and images. He could here the echoes of the past filter through his mind, lectures and readings on various mythologies sifting through the layers of consciousness, catching and coalescing with almost a will of their own. It made so much sense. Thoth did not need armies, he never would. He had realized long ago the thing that other Goa'uld did not.

They did not need fear or pain or extraordinary splendor to compel loyalty in their subjects. The better control, the more pervasive, insidious rule, was through benevolence. No matter what Minerva said, it would be done. She had never done anything that appeared to be against the people's best interest. If she said that going to war for her was best, then they would do it in a heartbeat. And the rule of law, how ingenious! Saturate society with enough rituals, enough laws, that people become habituated to following orders. Sneak in a small ritual here, another there, until you cultivate a value system that serves your will.

Control knowledge, information, so that you are the only source of both truth and judgment, and you did not need military dominance. Military rule was a waste of resources for someone who could control without fear.

If Minerva could resist the need to dominate directly, to torture and wage continuous warfare, then she could rise above the petty feudal bickering, always a fight to maintain control from within and from without. All it took was a little self-restraint and some well crafted pretension at empathy. She would be a lot harder to defeat than most system-lords. In fact, it would take nothing short of full deprogramming to win this kind of war, for unlike their normal battles, it was one for the hearts and minds of the people.

"Here we are." Nuscha stopped at an alcove, containing a statue. It looked just like the other hundred alcoves with statues that they had just passed.

"Amazing," Jack commented dryly.

Nuscha ignored him, pushing past him to the alcove and walking straight through the statue and the wall.

"Amazing, indeed." Teal'c responded, Jack rolling his eyeballs and sticking his well-armed hand cautiously through the wall before stepping through himself.

Daniel could hear him through the wall, "Okay, Nuscha, this better be good."

Jonas followed without hesitation or the spark of wonder that normally lit his eyes, almost as though he was expecting it. Sam and Teal'c were next, with Daniel taking up the rear.

The chamber on the other side was as plain as could be, except for what appeared to be a deep well of water in the center, dark surface still as a slate of glimmering opalescence. The walls were bland limestone and perfectly flat. Daniel could not detect a single marking. On the far end of the room there were several steep steps descending into another room. "Down there is the room of the prophecy. While the room where I found you tells our history, it tells your future." Nuscha said, looking directly at Jonas. "Only a prophet can read it."

"Can you read it?" Daniel inquired.

`"How do you think I knew to expect you?" He asked, continuing almost dismissively, "And this is the room of truth. It is where I learned Minerva;s true nature."

As Nuscha spoke those words, Daniel realized that there was a strange quality to the sound here. It seemed louder, purer and more beautiful than any language he had ever heard spoken, at least out loud. He shivered. He could hear the dimension of the divine in Nuscha's voice. The only thing he had heard similar to this was inside the great pyramid in Gaza, inside the King's chamber, supposedly built at the perfect dimensions to conduct beautiful sound to the human ear. But that chamber had deteriorated from years of disuse. This was how it was supposed to be, echoes reverberating upon each other, folding and twisting to fill every possible space, increasing in both complexity and harmony.

"Can Minerva see this 'prophesy?'" Jack asked, casually roaming and examining the walls, trying to find any kind of marking there. He even went so far as to poke one in scrutiny. Daniel couldn't conceal a grin looking at his friend eye all the walls suspiciously.

"Of course not. Only the worthy can even pass into this chamber."

"So I'm worthy, huh?" Jack turned to face the smiling prophet, eyebrows raised. "I happen to know several, well ... persons, who might disagree with you."

"You do not have to be free of sin, you just have to believe in good." Jack opened his mouth to protest, only to be silenced, "It's harder for most people than you think, Colonel."

"Well, Mr. Prophetman, do your thing."

Nuscha then grabbed Jonas' hand and brought him to kneel before the pool, looking down at the perfect reflection that dwelt there. Jack appeared to shift uncomfortably. Ever since he found out that Goa'uld nested in still water, he had been wary of it - at least off-world. Nuscha whispered something in Jonas' ear, and Jonas nodded once, eyes cloudy and distracted. He stared straight ahead, even as Nuscha grabbed his head and pushed it into the black depths. The second his skin kissed the surface of the black pool, destabilizing it for what seemed like an eternity, the walls of the room lit up, a fiery orange color. They were covered from floor to ceiling in writings.

He was nearly too entranced by the magical appearance of even more alien text, to notice that Jack Sam and Teal'c all had their weapons trained on Nuscha.

"Let him go." Jack said looking down the sights of his P-90. "What have you done to him?"

"I do not mean anything by this, Colonel O'Neill, I am simply setting him on the path. His soul must be cleansed before he can begin his journey." He spoke calmly; as though dunking people's heads into mysterious pools of water was something he did every day. He released Jonas and raised his hands in the air when Jack did not lower his weapon. "You have my word. I mean no harm."

Jonas shook his head, spraying Daniel with a faint mist of water. He rushed to Jonas' side and kneeled down next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder as he shuddered.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. A little wet though." He grinned, lifting the weight from Daniel's chest. That was the familiar grin, not that morose distracted look that Jonas seemed to have been wearing all day - not that it could dampen Daniel's great mood. This planet was one archeological treasure after another. He could spend years working on this.

"Check him, Daniel."

"I do not sense a symbiote, O'Neill," Teal'c commented flatly, though Daniel could sense the concern in his voice.

"Neither do I." Jack growled. Jesus, I nearly forgot. It was hard for Daniel to remember that Jack had been implanted with a symbiote and could now sense Naquadah, and obviously it even escaped Tealc's hyper-attuned memory. Hell, Teal'c even remembered when Daniel owed him a dollar, how could he let something like this slip? Still, it was impossible to imagine how Jack had ever come to allow such a thing to happen, though he knew deep down. It was simple: Sam had asked. He wasn't sure if he knew this from a true memory, for he certainly would have been watching, or if was just an instinct. "Check him out anyway, Daniel."

Daniel reached out a tentative hand, trying to smile reassuringly - though Jonas' slight grin did more to pacify him than the other way around, the young man submitting as he ran his hands through wet hair and along a sturdy jaw line to the back of his neck. Jonas opened his mouth compliantly, letting Daniel shine his penlight down his throat. No penetration wounds, no symbiote, at least. Daniel breathed an inward sigh of relief, though he never expected any deceit from Nuscha.

He knew that he couldn't sense a symbiote, but he did sense something different when his skin brushed against Jonas'. There was something familiar lurking there, something more than the physicality that develops between friends. Their eyes locked, and Daniel saw something growing in those green orbs, knowledge dawning and unfolding like a kaleidoscope, alighting features with power and longing. It sent a shiver down Daniel's spine. He was even more concerned for his friend than he had been seconds earlier when there was a chance that he had become infested with a Goa'uld. Something deep down told him that history was repeating itself, and even though Daniel Jackson had spent his entire life seeking comfort in the stability of history, he couldn't help but quail from the sense of danger that tore through his gut.

But the look in Jonas' eyes calmed him. Perhaps it was that wave of power washing over him, but he could almost bring himself to believe that everything would be okay. Almost.

Jack was now in the process of hauling Nuscha to his feet by the front of his robe. "Why did you do that? If you do something like that again, I'm going to have to have to shoot your vague proverb-spewing ass. Got it?"

Nuscha answered him evenly, straightening out his robe and meeting his eyes, "It will not happen again. There is no need." Ordinarily, such a statement would fuel the fire of Jack's anger, as Daniel knew from experience. There was nothing Jack hated more than passive aggression, though his own sarcasm could sometimes be construed that way. Somehow, the tone of Nuscha's words seemed to soothe the Colonel, despite their questionable rhetorical implications.

"Look, I'm going to trust you on this one, but if you do anything else causing a member of my team to be ..."

"... Wet?" Jonas asked with a chuckle. Even Daniel couldn't understand why Jonas was still trivializing the incident. Sure, he had participated in a fair number of strange cultural rituals, but he would still stay away from any pools of water on Goa'uld controlled planets. In fact, Jonas should know this. He remembered him talking about falling into a tank full of symbiotes as one of the scariest moments in his life. How could that memory have suddenly escaped him?

"... . in danger ... " Jack shot Jonas what Daniel supposed was a meaningful glare.

"I understand, Colonel. If you would please come with me, we may meet up with our people." He reached again for Jonas' hand, but Jack shook his head menacingly.

"Jonas, Daniel, get translating."

"I can tell you what it says ... they should accompany us to the village."

"To be perfectly honest, I don't trust you. Now, take us to the people." Jack motioned with his P-90. Surely he didn't mean that as a threat. Daniel thought. He was perfectly happy to stay and translate the writings, though his job would be made much easier if he could have Nuscha's help. He turned to meet Jonas' eyes, expecting to find a similar expression of exasperation, but found a look of indecision, instead. He seemed to be debating whether or not to say something. Daniel gave him a slight shake of the head. Now was not the time to question Jack. Even after a year working together, Jonas still didn't seem to know when he was pushing Jack too hard, looking for trouble. Then again, Jonas was really observant. He probably just didn't care. Or rather he did care, he just found making his point to be more important.

"Later, guys." Daniel smiled and waved, stopping Jonas just as he opened his mouth to object.

Nuscha lead the others out of the chamber, a sheepish smile focused at Jonas, who smiled back encouragingly. Jack and Sam followed side by side, with Teal'c taking up the rear.

The second they were alone, Daniel turned to Jonas, who was already staring intently at the writing on the back wall. "What did he say to you?"

He offered a doleful half-smile, "That we are responsible for the sins of mankind."

"How uplifting."

"Yep, but true. Everything we do, every thought we have. Every decision we make, either increases the good in the world or aides the evil. Even if we don't sin, it's our duty to animate good, so that we might make the world a better place."

"It's a noble sentiment, Jonas, one I fervently believe in. But do you think we could ever bring enough good into the world to compensate for all of the evil? I mean the Goa'uld alone ..."

"I think you need to have a little more faith, Daniel." Jonas smiled, non-threateningly, shaking some more water from his head and purposefully splashing Daniel, "Now let's get to work."

Daniel nodded, switching into full archaeologist mode. These writings were probably some combination of Ancient and Goa'uld, which would make sense for someone fighting against the Goa'uld during the time of the Ancients, possibly raised in a culture of Goa'uld. The first word he recognized was one that he feared greatly, the word for superhuman, Hok'taur. He was about to point it out to Jonas, when he noticed that the other man was deeply buried in the writings in the corner. He had his notebook open, but he was not making notes or referencing anything in particular. It was almost as though he was examining the patterns made by the inscriptions rather than the words themselves, staring past them into oblivion. Daniel wasn't looking forward to mentioning this whole thing to Jonas. He had undergone a great deal in the attempts to create a Hok'taur, and Daniel hated to bring those bitter memories to the surface.

Of course, the military implications were much worse. If Thoth really was creating Hok'taur for Anubis, that made it imperative for them to stop him. Daniel thought about the super soldiers that they had encountered in battle. The very thought sent a chill down his spine. If Thoth had somehow involved the people of this planet in the creation of the super soldiers, he didn't know what he would do. They had to be stopped; the entire galaxy was at stake.

He was about to share his suspicions with Jonas, when a cloud passed suddenly and stealthily across the Kelownan's face. His eyebrows furrowed in an expression verging on pain, an errant hand drawn to his lips to be pressed there in nervous worry. He knew already. It was just a question of who was going to speak first. Jonas beat Daniel to the chase, surprising him with the depth of his knowledge, "Thoth is working on a project much like Nitri's, though his progress is much greater. He appears to be combining a very advanced process of eugenics and the use of a real time gene manipulation machine like Nitri's."

"How do you know that?"

"Says right there, Daniel." Jonas pointed to some vague looking symbols on the wall in front of him. Daniel could speak both Goa'uld and Ancient fluently, but he didn't quite comprehend these writings. It was a concise blending of the two, leaning more on the Ancient side than the Goa'uld, which was mostly used for scientific discussion and much of the familiar Goa'uld rhetoric of superiority. He said the words in his head, admiring how, in this context, the two languages worked so well together. The Ancient was heavy though - an early dialect, he suspected. He could analyze the rhetorical structures and roots, but this language was much different from the one he knew. The word Jonas had pointed to seemed close to gibberish to him without examining each word carefully. How did Jonas get all that so quickly? He started at his enchanted eyes, still deeply engrossed in the beautiful calligraphy before him.

"He's patient, this one. He's not like the other Goa'uld: power hungry and impulsive." Jonas continued, "He can afford to wait. You see the machine Nirti used," his voice tensed just slightly, so in-control that anyone other than Daniel would not have noticed, "on me. She was rushing it, panicked for her own survival. The device was never designed to do the job it takes nature millenniums to accomplish - even the Ancients didn't have the kind of technology that could do that, otherwise they would have been able to save themselves. The device was only ever supposed to perform small leaps in the evolutionary chain; anything else would result in instability, as we have seen. Thoth has been using his strategically in this capacity and has been for centuries. I think ..."

"Uh ... Jonas, I hate to interrupt, but how are you divining this information?"

"I memorized your notes on the Ancients. The ones you made when you were recovering from having all those voices in your head, remember?"

"I remember making the notes, Jonas. But I can't read this language of the top of my head."

A small incredulous frown appeared on Jonas' face. "Oh ... well that's interesting." He shrugged.

Daniel's mouth dropped in disbelief. "You can't justb shrug this one off, Jonas. Remember when Jack stuck his head into that device and got the Ancient library downloaded into his head?"

"I read the report." He flashed a slightly pleading and purposely winning smile at his friend, all the while giving Daniel a pang of guilt, realizing that Jonas hadn't actually been there back then. "It's not the same, Daniel."

Daniel couldn't stop himself from changing hats from archaeologist to concerned nag. "If you read the reports you would know that Colonel O'Neill showed an impossible ability to read Ancient, and it almost killed him. I think you should go back through the gate and have Janet check you out." Daniel tried to put on his best, you-better-listen-to-me-or-else face, but -remembering how much luck he had with the whole bear thing- steeled himself to call the Colonel and get him to order Jonas or at least send Teal'c for some physical coercion. He would try it himself, except he and Jonas were pretty evenly matched in strength and build. It made for great sparing partners, though Jonas almost always won out by virtue of pure stamina. The guy just kept bouncing back.

As a matter of fact, he was currently in the process of bouncing down the steps to the lower chamber, footfalls echoing like a shower of chimes, calling over his shoulder, "I want to check out the room of prophecy first. You know how much I like prophesies." Daniel was surprised Jonas could bring himself to joke about it. He was a 'pick up and move on, make the best out of it' kind of guy, not a 'trivialize things and set up heavily armed barriers of sarcasm' kind of person, like Jack.

Daniel sighed, rolling his eyes, "I'm serious, Jonas. Jack's not going to be happy if he has to come back here and drag you through the Stargate. I'll be perfectly fine translating by myself. Let Janet check you out, just to be safe. You can come right back." Jesus, I'm starting to sound just like Jack. Daniel thought. Dealing with Jonas made him look back on how exasperating he had once been and cringe.

"Wow, Daniel, you have to see this." A voice floated up from below, bodiless but full of the most beautiful sound of awe Daniel could imagine. The archaeologist in him couldn't be contained. He would take a look, retrieve his friend, and get to work.

Daniel arrived at the bottom of the steps to find ... "Jonas, I hate to break it to you, but there's nothing here." The walls had changed to black obsidian, an enveloping shiny darkness, calling forth a thousand possibilities, reflecting the light of his flashlight off the walls. He had to admit it was both captivating and intimately terrifying, but then again so was the future. The future for Daniel Jackson was just that, a dark room that had once been filled with symbols and meaning and truth, left desolate and empty. Any light that he tried to shine on it, just rebounded, a dark walled prison trapping him in the moment, in this thoroughly linear body. He looked at his reflection, the specter in the obsidian mirror and observed the sadness in lost blue eyes.

"Daniel, you need to get your prescription checked. The walls are covered with constellations, they're circling, resolving. Time is passing and I can finally see their motion. They know, Daniel. The universe knows its destiny. I can't believe I never saw this before! The only way you can predict the future is through intention. The universe has plans for us ... "

Another figure resolved itself beside him in the mirror, the hope in the features eclipsing the sadness in his own in their brightness, transfixed by all the beauty of the universe. Daniel could just claw at that beauty, ache for it, remember fragments of it in a dream, dig deep for it in the every day things. Jonas was shrouded in it now and he couldn't help but feel a slight bit jealous. He pulled his friend down to earth with the sadness in his tone, "I want to see it, but I can't."

Their eyes met, though he couldn't read that expression. It would take him years to traverse the universes contained in that gaze. "Daniel, you have too ..."

Before he could finish, both their radios jumped to life with the familiar but still disconcerting sounds of P-90s chattering away, casting an enchantment against the enemy, staff blasts playing the syncopatic melody over their constant drone. Daniel's heart leapt into the chorus, an erratic and paniced rhythm to further confuse the din.

Jack was shouting, his voice breaking off every now and again in a volley of fire. "Under attack ... group of soldiers ... not Jaffa ... pinned down in the square ... " Then an unexpected and quick crescendo as the radio fizzled out with what Daniel swore was Sam shouting a strangled cry of "Colonel."

Daniel tried his radio almost immediately. "Jack! Come in Jack!" He didn't think his already strained heart could beat any faster, but apparently it could.

"He needs our help." Jonas said, matter-of-factly, emotion lurking just beneath the surface of a strangely calm exterior. If Daniel had more time to think about it, he might say Jonas was in a daze, but he was too busy being dragged up the steps and down the corridor to notice.

7. Jack

Jack O'Neill didn't trust this kid. Or did he? His instincts told him that he was telling the truth when he said that he no longer served the Goa'uld and that they were false Gods, but he knew that he was hiding something, and that whatever the big secret was, he wasn't going to like it when he found out.

"Tell us about your people, Nuscha."

"Now I am taking you to see the others."

"And who might these 'others' be?"

"The others that have lost faith in Minerva and have dedicated themselves to the prophesy."

"So these others are prophets?"

"No, they are witnesses."

"You know some sciencey guy once said that you can't observe something without changing it."

"Heisenberg, sir?" Sam asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, that guy."

"That name means nothing to me."

"Of course not. Look, we've done this whole prophecy thing before. It didn't work for me then and it certainly doesn't work for us now. I'm definitely willing to entertain an overthrow of a Goa'uld, but don't expect us to move mountains or anything."

"You can move mountains with enough faith."

"Right." Jack gave a smirk. He hated these tent-revival types, on Earth or otherwise. And he thought he had escaped. Then again, did it really make a difference if they worshiped Jonas or the Goa'uld? Wasn't it his duty to stop the worship of false gods? No, it was not. He'd been around Teal'c and his revolutionary rhetoric too long. He was a military man, and his standing orders were to recover technology and form alliances to fight against the Goa'uld.

Hell, Thor was a false God, so was Oma Desala, and the Tok'ra that committed the same horrible acts as the Goa'uld in order to fight them. Who was he kidding? He wasn't an explorer or a wise man. His job was security and nothing in the job description said he was supposed to enlighten the mysteries of life. It wasn't as though he never lied for national security, killed for national security. In fact, his entire career in black ops had been about doing the dirty work to keep his people safe. If it would help Earth deal a fatal blow to Anubis, he would tell the people that Jonas was the creator himself.

"I'm just saying, we're going to need more than witnesses if we want to defeat Minerva. We're going to need fighters."

Nuscha nodded solemnly. "We would give our lives for Him."

Jack desperately wanted to laugh at this, though he knew her was guilty of much the same. There were few things more important to him that protecting his team, Jonas included. Still, he had to put Earth first. He always had. He wondered if these people would put their faith before the fate of their planet. He managed a weak smile. "Well, what do you have in the business of fighters?"

"We are few, but there will be many once they hear His words."

"And you know this because ..."

"I'm a prophet."

"I see." Jack smirked. This was getting weirder by the moment. He sighed, as they moved away from what seemed to be the central area, much like a bazaar. He tried to repress the memories this brought back from his time in Iraq. The loud bickering in some Goa'uld dialect, the sheen of metals displayed in the harsh desert sun, the smells of fresh meat and fruit wafting pleasantly above the over-sweet odor of too many people in one place. Not a single person would meet his eye. He was used to aliens being afraid of him, but he wasn't even sure if these people saw him. Most places the people couldn't help but stare at the strangers from another world.

Nuscha smiled encouragingly as they reached a small cloth tent near the edge of the pyramid, but out of the way of what seemed to be the main area. It looked as though it had never been clean, caked in the fine red dust that blanketed this desert plateau. The heat of the sun beat down harshly, the two moons setting on the desert horizon. Jack smiled, remembering Abydos, the bittersweet taste of nostalgia on his lips. There were so many good memories there, but he had saved those people only for them to be destroyed by a bigger, badder Goa'uld, one that they had helped come to power. At least they were still happy on another plain of existence somewhere, though Jack doubted one could really be happy as one of the ascended. He had been given the opportunity himself, but he had made it clear to Daniel that he would rather die.

Daniel was strong -one of the strongest willed men Jack had even known and admired- but even he couldn't "release his burden" - not completely anyway. For Jack it would have been worse than anything even Ba'al could have done to him to be doomed to watch those he cared about suffer and eventually die and be able to do nothing for them. He would never have that kind of courage.

Nuscha drew back the tent flap with a smile, causing a haze of red dust to fall. He stepped beneath it as though it were the cleaning haze of snow, letting it mark his dusty robes red. Jack followed with a sigh. This was too important to screw up. At least he had left the civilians where they'd be safe. Far away from this so-called prophet and whatever it was that he could do. He would just have to swallow any misgivings and play along. Teal'c and Sam stepped in behind him.

There was a circle of people sitting on the floor wearing plain and dusty robes much like Nuscha's, with the same bony appearance and ethereal grace. They had drawn an intricate pattern of lines and circles in the sand, reminding him of a Zen garden and were in the middle of a chant. He counted four heads. Great, four monks. This will be a hell of a battle. He thought sarcastically.

Still, he couldn't help but be lost in the power of their words, even if he could not understand them. They spoke to some sort of sympathetic feeling in his own body, warming his very blood, exciting and stirring parts of him that were long forgotten in years of skepticism and duty, sorrow and loss. He was being reawakened, brought back from the dead by their chant. He could feel the want rising - the need to believe in something greater, in purpose or destiny. So much had happened, he had been so swamped by evil and suffering that he sometimes forgot all of the good in life that he was fighting for. But these haunting words, floating in the air like the breath of life itself, voices alone - a cry for help but together nothing short of a prayer, hope undiluted, they calmed all inquietudes, bridged all gaps, and healed all wounds.

But before that peaceful feeling could truly overtake him in its entirety, he felt his fear rally the forces of denial to fight the good fight, escaping his thought in a loud cough that stopped the song. The emptiness returned, numb and cold, but welcome.

"These are your witness, or fighters, if you like, Colonel O'Neill."

Jack tried valiantly to hide his sarcasm, but failed miserably. "So these are our fighters."

One of the monks looked up, deep-set obsidian eyes meeting his own chocolate brown ones and sending a shiver down his spine. There was a flash of incredible intensity there, power and weakness, truth and sorrow, all bound together and ready to overtake him. "Do not underestimate us." He said, voice quietly threatening. Jack barely had time to blink before he was off the ground and standing inches from him. He laid a hand on Jack's chest. It was a seemingly delicate touch, but another wink of the eye and he found himself being propelled backwards and out of the tent flap he had just entered.

He landed on his tailbone with a rather embarrassing thud, lucky they were dealing with a planet filled with sand. He stood, sending a cloud of red dust into the air as he brushed himself off, clinging to the last of his dignity with a very put-on smile and charging back into the tent, feathers ruffled, but relieved that he had four super-monks instead of just four monks on his side.

"Impressive." Teal'c said with a raised eyebrow.

"Bite me."

Teal'c looked away innocently. Why do I always get the feeling that he's mocking me?

Nuscha rushed to his side a frenzy of concern. "Are you alright Colonel?" He seemed so goddamn sincere. Where does he get this unnatural sympathy, anyway? "Please excuse Isa, Colonel. He believes that we should have already made our move against Minerva - that we need not wait for our savior as long as we know Minerva to be wrong. He is a little restless."

"Glad to see he's put this restless energy to good use. Preparing for war are we?"

"We are prepared to fight Colonel. We will do anything to ensure the survival of our people, sacrifice ourselves if necessary." He met Jack's eyes. There was something in him that reminded Jack of himself: a kind of impetuous, sometimes reckless, devotion. They reached an understanding almost instantly - they would defeat Minerva and Anubis, and nothing would stop them. It was a worthy alliance, made in a glance, unbreakable.

Still there was something there that scared him. Perhaps it was a look in the mirror at his own rabid intensity. Looking back at some of the things he had done in the name of his country, righteously and almost blindly, he shivered. He saw this quality in Isa, familiar, but frightening none-the-less. Men like them were a necessary evil, because, hell, they got the job done.

Nuscha looked from one to the other with a wan smile, perhaps seeing the bittersweet future that they would forge together and mourning it. "Are you satisfied, Colonel?"

"I am definitely impressed, though I need to have more recon on Minerva's forces and her popular support before I can say for sure. Punching-with-no-windup abilities aside, Minerva does still outnumber us."

"We have the element of surprise ..." Isa began.

"I have been telling him that without a leader, we will have all of Golgotha fighting against us. Even if we were to gather followers there would be nothing short of civil war."

"If we succeed in killing Minerva there will be no leadership on their side either," Isa protested.

"I happen to know that, if Minerva is killed, there's another evil snakehead, far worse, who will come and quash your rebellion in a heartbeat."

"I does not matter, for our leader has come. His name is Jonas Quinn. I have seen him with my own eyes, Isa. Now take Colonel O'Neill on your next reconnaissance mission. They will be making preparations for the next selection."

"Now?" Jack squeaked. He couldn't let Jonas and Daniel alone in the temple with a Goa'uld on the way.

As though reading his thoughts Nuscha pushed him out the door. "She will not appear, do not worry. She does not interfere much in our daily lives. She will send a few of her guard in a cargo ship to pick up those selected. We just observe the trials, keep records of who she has."

"How many?"

"If they all survived the experiments, about 2,000. We know of at least 500 that have survived and live among us as soldiers, government officials and general keepers of the peace."

"How large is the population of Golgotha?"

"Approximately 3 million all distributed in towns of a several thousand each across this dessert."

Jack breathed in a deep sigh. "Seems like a lot for just the few of us."

"Like she herself says, if we take out the leader, the followers will submit." Nuscha stated, passionately. If he believed nothing else Minerva said why would he choose to believe that? Jack wondered fleetingly.

Isa's features darkened, "We must hurry if we want to find an adequate vantage point."

Jack simply raised his eyebrows. "After you."

<<<>>>

It had all happened so quickly. The people in the marketplace had barely given them a second glance, but the second they ran into what he could only guess was one of Minerva's deputies, dressed in the typical Jaffa chain-mail shirt with a breastplate bearing a scale, leather strap up sandals and a rather ridiculous mohawk impersonation hat, they had opened fire.

They had just passed out of the marketplace into the edge of a square, approaching a small amphitheater-like structure, ringed with vaulted arches and columns. He was just thinking how this position was very easily defensible, when the first shot echoed out from behind one of the columns.

Jack hadn't even had time to think, he was too busy diving behind a stone wall and avoiding the bits of it that rained down on him from each successive blast, eating the wall away slowly, to wonder why there were any other people around. There were only about eight guards, and there were four of them. It was not an even fight.

He sprang up, giving one of the guards a good blast from his P-90 directly in the chest, diving back under cover just in time to miss a similar fate. He heard Teal'c firing his staff weapon off to his left, and had succeeded in taking out another two Jaffa. Carter was somewhere behind him.

He could barely register the blast of motion as a Jaffa sprung from behind one of the pillars that held up the training arena and came toward him. Luckily, Isa was there nearly as quickly. They hit each other with such force and speed that Jack's eyes failed to follow the action. So Minerva's experiments must be working, both on the monks and on her chosen. Before he knew it, he was ducking, barely escaping the body of the Jaffa as it flew back through the wall with enough force to crumble an entire portion of it. Jack felt the wake of derbies as they crashed into his huddled form. So he would have some bruises in the morning, if he made it to the morning. He peaked above the wall to see how Isa fared in this fight, but he was gone.

He couldn't help but notice that this Jaffa didn't have symbiote pouch, though judging by his agility and strength, he might be even stronger than both Goa'uld and traditional Jaffa. He would have to ask Teal'c if this still made him a Jaffa, though that would be venturing a little too far into the linguistic side of things.

The "Jaffa" had retreated to behind the corner of the building after Isa's sudden attack. Four down, four to go. He grabbed a grenade from his jacket; he didn't have to turn to look at her to know that Carter saw his intention. He lobbed the grenade in the direction of the building that the "Jaffa" were hiding behind while she laid down cover fire. There was a brief intermission in the fire. He hoped that he had gotten all of them, though he seriously doubted it. Teal'c was still firing to press the advantage. Jack utilized the break in fighting to radio Daniel and Jonas and alert them to the situation.

"We're under attack. A group of soldiers, not Jaffa have us pinned down in the square outside the ... "

Jack O'Neill had been in the heat of so many battles that it seemed almost lukewarm. He could barely remember the days when it seemed to pass so quickly that it was overwhelming, yet this was a thousand times worse. Time seemed to pass in flashes. One moment he was on the radio. Another, he heard the explosion of gunfire behind him, Teal'c voice yelling at him. He could feel his body spinning around, to find an attacker he hadn't even known was there. There was no way could have gotten behind him. Still, there he was, white light flying from the tip of his staff weapon into Jack's chest. He was too stunned to feel the pain. The moments seemed to stretch into infinity, as Isa seemed to come out of nowhere to confront the attacker. He didn't see the outcome of this epic battle, however. He was too busy falling to his knees, hearing the heart-wrenching wail of Carter's scream. Where those her delicately calloused hands pulling him to her, or was that the grip of death?

Darkness. A second, a minute, an eternity, a single breathe.

Then warmth diving through the sea of pain so intense that it had transformed itself into pure pressure, constraining the thirst for life, freedom, and joy in every cell. There was a voice calling to him, thawing the ice of this frigid space. It spoke with the love of centuries, rich and layered, folding the layers of time and space to encircle him in its warmth, familiar, recognizable, caring. It beckoned to him, a light, teasing, calling him out of the darkness, courting the pain in him and loving it, forgiving it, changing its purpose.

There was so much love in the universe. He couldn't abandon it. He opened his eyes to the blue of an alien sky, familiar faces, and the habitual denial that love alone could make miracles.

8. Sam

Millennia passed in an instant as the darkness clutched at her soul, the moment that she had feared for so long coming to life before her.

There was nothing she could do to stop it, just as she couldn't stop herself from loving him. The guard seemed to appear out of nowhere. Maybe she had spaced out. Maybe she had closed her eyes in relief when the firing stopped; maybe she had been distracted with worries about Jonas and Daniel. She understood why the Colonel had chosen to keep them away from what she could only call "thought pollution." Still, their collective naivety was just as dangerous alone in a cave as it was out here with the religious fanatics. She knew that they were both capable fighters, she just seemed to get into this mother-hen frame of mind when it came to those two. The military made it easy for her to suppress these kinds of natural instincts, however. That's what the chain of command was for. Still, it was utterly unlike her to let her mind wander in the heat of battle. She was an experienced officer, not easily rattled, and incredibly focused.

But it had happened anyway. She opened fire the second the neurons in her brain connected with her eyes and she saw the figure standing before her. But it was too late. She saw him fall, a gaping staff-blast blistering and smoking on his chest. Those were the fires of hell, for her. Somewhere in the background she vaguely registered Tealc's shouts of warning, but it was drowned out by the incessant pounding of her own heart, the sharp rasp of her own breathe.

She felt empty, truly afraid. As long as he was there, she could never truly be afraid. But in a second all of her hopes and dreams were dashed - the deftly guarded fantasies that kept her coming through the gate despite all of the risk. In these fantasies, she could live the ordinary life that she so longed for. Only seconds after she saw him fall, she wondered if she could go on living without him, the fear was gripping.

But she drew unbelievable courage from it at the same time, the kind of maniacal and slightly dimwitted bravery that she generally associated with some of the more gung-ho marines, but bravery none-the-less. What did she have to live for without him, after all?

Sam jumped out from behind the only thing between her and the blasts from that staff weapon, knowing simultaneously that it was reckless and that Jack would have done the same had there places been reversed. She was surprised when she did not receive a wound matching that of the man she loved. Perhaps the tears that were threatening to break loose from her eyes had clouded her vision, because she completely missed how Isa had managed to get his arms around the neck of this soldier and snap it so quickly.

She stood there exposed for a second, but an eye-blink later, she felt a body hurling itself against her, strong and forceful, but surprisingly protective. She was thrown back behind the wall, in such a state of shock that she didn't know how long it took for her regain composure and peak out from behind the wall. The guards hidden behind the building had resumed their fire, so she clicked back into soldier mode, exchanging what she took to be a rather purposeless volley. She had no idea what had become of Isa, but Teal'c was still reliably by her side.

They had reached a stalemate. Every few minutes she stole a glance at the body before her. It wrenched her heart every time, but she still looked, she supposed she owed it to him. Every once and a while she thought she saw him take a shuddering breath, but that must have been wishful thinking. It would be a miracle to survive a direct staff blast to the chest like that. Then again, since when did the normal laws of human mortality apply to Jack O'Neill?

She felt the latest magazine getting light. She would soon be out of ammo if these guys kept it up much longer, and she really didn't like the idea of that happening. It was time to do something decisive, though she didn't know what. The cloud of hopelessness and confusion that had descended upon her normally astute mental capacities had her trapped. She had no idea what to do.

Luckily, the decisive action presented itself, albeit in exactly the wrong form. She closed her eyes wishing with all of her heart that she was not hearing and seeing what her eyes and ears told her was going on.

She heard Jonas' rich tenor shout above the shooting, strangely soothing. She could feel the voice calming the fear that she felt, knowing that Jonas and Daniel were also in the line of danger. She didn't think she could stand to see one of them harmed in addition to the Colonel. That would probably push her from her already tenuous grip on reality. She was having momentary blackouts, after all. Wasn't she?

"Lay down your weapons." She heard Jonas command. She knew he was na*ve, but not that na*ve. He couldn't possibly expect them to fall for that, could he? Yet the firing had stopped. Her mouth dropped at what he did next. She must have been hallucinating, because Jonas simply walked around the corner of the wall that she had been hiding behind and into the line of fire, as though he were taking a casual stroll through the marketplace. She could hear Daniel's harsh whisper, beckoning him both to take cover and get a hold of his sanity.

She wanted to do the same, but her jaw was locked and her mind transfixed. She could almost feel a wave of calm spreading outwards from him like the ripple of a stone dropped in a pond. "I am not your enemy. Minerva fears me because I have the power to show you what she really is. She fears your independence. I do not. You have the choice now, you can kill me where I stand, or you can lay down your arms and listen. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you that you will see the truth in your own hearts. But it is your choice, not the choice of some false God. My life is in your hands, do with it what you will."

Jonas stood completely still for what seemed like an eternity, staring intently at the place where a beam of light might flash to strike him down, but none came. "Come out, and I will show you the light." He said placidly, extending his hands. Sure enough, two soldiers emerged, hands up.

Now that she got a good look at their enemy, she realized that they were only boys, children of 19 or 20, brainwashed by the promises and rewards of a false God. But they had been in Minerva's confidence, and so, she supposed that -somewhere deep-down- they knew the truth.

The second she was convinced that they had truly surrendered; she rushed out from her crouching position behind the wall, to Jack's nearly still form. She was right, he was still breathing, though shallowly. She could see the lines of pain etched deep onto his face and wanted nothing more in the world then to hold him in her arms and sooth all of that pain away. "It'll be okay, Sir." She mumbled. "We'll get you back through the gate in no time." Even as she spoke those words, she began to doubt them. His breathing was so goddamn weak. She couldn't even stifle a small cry of anguish.

Jonas was by her side in mere seconds, bright eyes saddened by the body before him. "We have found so many ways to kill our brothers." He sighed, snapping Sam's attention away from Jack's pulse for just a second. This didn't sound like Jonas. Sure, he got a little frustrated with his people's attempts to blow each other up, but this was the first time she had heard a hint of such deep sadness in his voice - as though he was somehow to blame for the invention all instruments of war.

But she only glimpsed the sadness for a brief moment, so brief that she couldn't really be sure that she had seen it at all - though deep down she knew that she had. His eyelids slid a curtain over those infinitely expressive green eyes, veiling the sadness, and transforming it. He bit down slightly on his lower lip as he guided his hands to the mangled mass of skin and cloth that used to be Jack's chest. And she was sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her, because in an instant the minefield of blood and muscle was the taunt smooth chest dappled with curly silver hair that she had dreamed of laying her head on. She had imagined herself nestled into the crook of his arm, fingers playing through his hair. She wanted to cry in joy to hold him and kiss him and never let go, but her sensibilities clamped themselves firmly back down the second she saw him healthy and safe and she was a million miles away again, settling for a gentle smile.

"How do you feel, Sir?" She was so focused on the bewildered look in those chocolate brown eyes that she didn't notice that Jonas had slipped away to where Daniel and Teal'c were speaking guardedly with the two soldiers.

"Peachy." He reflected her smile, with the same intensity, though twisted sarcastically. "Is it just me, or was I just shot in the chest?"

"You were. Jonas healed you."

"He what?!" He squawked, and she couldn't help but giggle at him. Of course, he was being overly-dramatic for her benefit, she could see him scanning her, eyes catching on the places on her cheeks where tears must of spilled warm and honest, but unnoticed. There was something in his expression that told her that he knew it was Jonas all along. "Why couldn't he have picked up on this whole thing before they put the damn snake in my head?"

"Why don't you ask him, Sir?"

"Well, Carter, I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful."

"Since when has that ever concerned you?"

"Are you implying something, Major?" He grinned.

She grabbed his arm and helped him to a sitting position and changed the subject. "Feel like talking to the guys who shot you?"

"What?"

"Jonas made friends."

"My savior." He grunted, swatting her arm away as he stood slowly to his feet. "What kind of healing service is this, anyway? The kid didn't even get me a new knee."

Sam laughed heartily, valiantly resisting the urge to wrap her arms around his waist as they walked toward the others. She couldn't help but think that everything was about to change - that maybe in the near future she wouldn't even have to privilege of smiling with him. Perhaps she was just suffering from the shock of almost losing him yet again, but she doubted it. There was a definite sense of foreboding in the air.

And she could hear Jonas' soft whisper orchestrating it all, "Look beyond the exterior. Yes, she has great power. She comes from the sky. She blesses the people. She protects you from Anubis. But didn't she let Anubis come down to see you? If she were all-powerful, she wouldn't need guards. She wouldn't need lies and deceptions. If Anubis were such a threat, wouldn't she get rid of him? Anubis controls her, not the other way around."

He had made believers of them already, she could tell.

"Believe in me." Jonas smiled, "Not as a God, but as a fellow man. Believe in your neighbor, your lover, your brother, your daughter, the stranger from another world. We all have good in us. Believe that you can find power in goodness alone. Only then can you be happy. It is not true happiness if you do not choose it for yourself, if you do not sacrifice for it. All I ask you to sacrifice are your illusions."

He let out a grin so radiant that it had them all entranced. "Minerva is a false God and brings with her false happiness."

Was that flash of light from his power alone? No, it couldn't be. It was a staff blast. Sam feared the worst, but was relieved to watch Jonas spin around to see Isa wielding a staff weapon, pointed at a guard lying in a heap on the ground, a grotesque burn smoking on his arm.

"What did you do that for?" Jonas asked, the smallest drop of anger in his otherwise calming tones.

"He was going to shoot you."

Jonas glide beside him, lowering the staff weapon. "You didn't have faith, Isa. I told him that it was his choice to shoot me, and he made it. It was not your right to interfere."

"But you would have died!"

"Don't worry, Isa, it's not my time."

"You are flesh and blood, like the rest of us. You may be able to heal, but as you just said, you are a man, and you must be careful. If Nuscha is right then the fate of the rebellion rests in your hands, and it is therefore my duty to protect you - at all costs."

Sam stopped briefly to wonder how Jonas had known his name, but the thought was wiped clean from her mind by what he did next. He knelt down and healed the wound of the soldier that Isa had just shot.

"What are you doing?" Isa nearly shouted.

"He made a bad choice. We all make back choices, and it is our duty to forgive in other what we would like to be forgiven for."

"He will try to kill you again."

"I will not." The guard spoke, voice grisly and tired sounding, but enthusiastic none-the-less.

"How do I know that?" Isa nearly spat.

"Because I, Mat of Golgotha, will swear on pain of death, on the ashes of all my ancestors, on the air I breathe and the ground I walk upon, that I will follow this man to the ends of the earth and back. He did save my life, after all."

"You don't need to swear." Jonas smiled cheerfully, helping the young man up and ruffling his sandy blond hair amiably. "I have faith in you."

<<<>>>

When they had walked through the marketplace before, the crowd seemed not to notice them. In fact, they almost parted for them. Now that Jonas was traveling with them, it was almost impossible to move. The news of his ability to heal had spread faster than wildfire, and the two guards -brothers, as it turned out- who had been shooting at them just an hour before were busy not-helping the situation by calling out his praise.

Jack was clearly bored, as Jonas seemed to find illness after illness in the crowd and heal it. In fact, there seemed to be a disproportionate amount of sick people in this community of people who were clearly physically superior to ordinary humans, for she had since confirmed with Teal'c that Isa and the guards could move almost faster than the wink of an eye and that she was not losing time. She supposed that Minerva might have introduced many diseases into the populous to assist in her eugenics projects, weeding out the sick and strengthening the immune systems of the living. Sam was amazed that Jonas could heal so many with a grin on his face. It had taken just a few to almost completely do Aiyanna in.

Even she tired of the constant press of the crowd, of Jonas' encouraging maximums and the miracle of healing. She wanted to get back to the Stargate. There was something about this place that deeply disturbed her. She had tried to voice this concern to Daniel, who seemed to readily believe these unsubstantiated gut feelings, or at least tolerate them, but Daniel had been a bit spacey since he had been dragged away from something to translate. He seemed to look past the crowd deep into the dessert somewhere far away, eyes searching, perhaps even longing.

"Are you okay?" She asked when he didn't respond to her statement about how this place gave her the creeps.

"I'm sorry, what?" He squinted at her, as though she were made out of the light of the sun itself.

"Are you alright? You seem a little dazed."

"I'm fine." She did her best concerned mother-hen impression. "Really, I am. This is all just a lot to think about."

"I know what you mean. I just want to get back to base and get this whole thing sorted out before we take any more steps blind."

"I would actually rather stay. I want another crack at those translations, though I might be a bit useless. It seems that Jonas can pretty much speak the language."

"Oh. I would say that's amazing, but it seems a little mediocre after all the things we've seen him do today."

"Indeed ..." with that remark, stolen from Teal'c, Daniel wandered off, to ask Jonas a question, she suspected.

She sighed; becoming bored, herself, the noise of the crowd slowly chipping away at her patience. Though she was not nearly as bored as Isa seemed to be. He looked ready to punch his way through the throng. She was about to move over to start up a conversation when she overheard Jack's conversation with Mat.

"We were under orders to shoot at any foreigners. You must be mighty warriors to draw the fear of someone so powerful."

"She'd better fear us. We've killed a lot of snakeheads, and if Anubis isn't around to protect her 24/7 she's got to be trembling in her boots. She's the geeky type, the scientist, you know. They always need some muscle to keep them safe." Sam snuck up behind them and cleared her throat loudly, raising her eyebrows menacingly. Jack retreated with his tail tucked between his legs, "Except for ones as capable and multitalented as Major Carter."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome."

"Um, Sir, I was wondering ..."

"When we can get done with this shit and get back to base?" He grinned mischievously.

With any ordinary commander she would be stuck in an internal debate, wondering if he was kidding, if he's testing her commitment to the mission, if he's hitting on her, even. But Jack wasn't an ordinary commander; he was Jack. In fact, she would never have to debate, because she couldn't see anyone else ever asking. She didn't hesitate. "Actually, yes, Sir. I think it would be wise to get a good understanding of what's going on with Jonas before we commit to anything."

"I think it's a bit late for that, Major." He jerked his head toward the crowd of cripples and elderly now clustered around Jonas, fighting just to touch him.

Sam noticed that his breath had quickened and he'd developed a small ring of sweat around his forehead. All of this healing had to take its toll. She didn't need to look at him to know that Jack noticed too.

"Alright, Dr. Doolittle, that's enough for today. We've got places to go, people to see. You know the whole ... " His voice trailed off as the crowd of old women parted to reveal a young mother, deep-set brown eyes wide and imploring, carrying a small child, entire leg swollen from what appeared to be some sort of bite, probably a snake. The child's breaths were ragged, his lips almost blue.

Sam noticed a quiet look pass between Jonas and his colonel. It is the instant and almost unnecessary agreement that there are some things that we must always sacrifice for. Jack barely nodded, trying to maintain his cool military exterior even though the whole team and the people of dozens of planets knew that Jack O'Neill had a huge soft spot when it came to children.

Moments like these were ones where she knew that she could never stop loving him, moments when he tried so hard to be tough when he was one of the most compassionate men she knew. Though Jonas wass making it a tough contest at the moment. The difference between the two was that Jack O'Neill knew how to override his conscience and even his compassion when it was for the best and Jonas Quinn did not. Jonas knew how to compromise, but he couldn't deal with the guilt of knowing that he had gone against everything he believed. The guilt of Daniel's death nearly overtook him, even though it was Daniel's choice to die, not his. It took an extraordinary soul to be a good man and make the bad-guy decisions. It took even more to live with them.

Though she had promised herself that she would not follow this track again, she couldn't help but think it. She wasn't sure she could stand to know that she loved a man who has done some of the things that Jack must have done, to survive, to follow orders, to save his country, his planet. She always admired people like Jonas, but Jonas was and always would be a dreamer, alone in a world of monsters trying to tear him apart. It's people like Jack, and sometimes people like her, who kept the dreamers of the world safe.

Then and there, Samantha Carter made a brief and fervent wish, that, for once, Jonas would be allowed his dreams, unpolluted by the compromises people like Jack inevitably made to protect those dreams.

9. Jack

Jack O'Neill didn't like what he saw. He knew it was a bad idea to let the Geeks get a little headway on the translation before they headed back. His job as a CO was to make sure everyone member of his team stayed healthy, and happy - if he could swing it. One look at the crumpled form in front of him told him that something had gone wrong. Again. Years of government work, if not just years in general, had taught him one thing: there's always a catch.

"Alright, kid, we're heading back to base. Now."

Jonas looked up, startled, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes, bewildered by their surroundings. Jack knew his senses weren't honed by a career in the military, but Jonas could usually at least sense when someone was standing practically on top of him.

"I was just doing some ... um ... translating, Sir. I would like to stay here until the job's done."

"You may have acquired superhuman powers, but you're still a rotten liar. I've been working with Geeks for a long time - longer than I would like, as a matter of fact- and I've never seen a single one translate by curling themselves into a ball and shaking. You're strange, but not that strange."

"Thanks." Was that a smile or a wince? "I was just a little cold."

"Cold? It's 100 degrees out!" The kid was a lot worse off then he thought. He really should have stopped him sooner. But how do you tell a sick person that they have to continue suffering because you're a little tired or you CO is bored? "Let's just have the Doc check you out, and if there's nothing wrong we can come back. These writings have survived how many years? They'll still be here waiting for you."

Jonas rose slowly, his usual boyish grin muted by pain in his features and regret in his eyes. Regret, or was it guilt? You really have been around these Geeks too long. He instantly berated himself. You're thinking too much. "Excuse me, Colonel, I've got some translating to do. I'm fine."

Jack probably saw the tremors in his legs before he felt them himself. He rushed forward to catch the young man seconds before he collapsed like the tower of Babel. Either Jonas was heavier than he thought, or he really was getting too old for all this. "You're fine when I'm Luke Skywalker." He grabbed Jonas' arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, getting another chance at diagnosis close by. Unfortunately it was even worse than his suspicions. No wonder he was cold! So much heat radiated from him that Jack swore you could scramble an egg on his forehead, and he was drenched with sweat, bathing Jack in alien perspiration, blech! The shaking continued, uncontrolled and chaotic, as though he was trying to tear himself apart from the inside out. "Don't let all these newfound powers go to your head. Walking is harder than it seems, after all. Now let's get you out of here, one step at a time."

Jack felt a head nod on his shoulder so they moved slowly up the steps to the main room. Daniel was seated atop his discarded backpack examining some etchings near the floor. Jack wondered how someone wrote nearly on the group without getting a handcramp.

He could see Teal'c's shadow, even that seeming stoic and still, standing guard silently at the entrance. It was good to know that the Jaffa was keeping an eye on things, preventing them from attracting more sick and disabled. Damn handicapped people! This is why he stopped believing in a benevolent God. So many sick, and all bothering him! So many suffering and God didn't even lift a finger to stop it. He did his best to alleviate suffering, but what good could one man really do?

Carter was almost finished taking the water sample that he ordered, careful not to touch the water to her skin. He was briefly distracted by that look of utter concentration on her face, the shine in those blue eyes, illuminated by her intensity. This is what he meant about God! What kind of cruel deity would let him fall for his 2IC. He forced himself back to the task at hand, listening to the arrhythmic heartbeat resonating loudly next to his and the gasping breathes that raked the already frail body in his arms.

"Let's pack it up campers. We need to get the Boy Wonder here back to the batcave ASAP."

"But ..." Daniel began.

"I've said it to one scientist and I'll say it to all. These ruins will still be here when we get back."

"But these translations could be the key to understanding Jonas' condition."

"I don't have a condition."

"Yes you do!" They shouted in unison. At least they agreed on something.

"You took pictures. Let's go. What is it with this planet anyway? Some sort of sarong song or something."

"Siren's song, Jack?" Daniel raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I'll stop trying the mythical metaphors when you get out that door. For the last time, we're leaving."

"I just have one question." Jonas coughed.

"What's that?"

"Who's Luke Skywalker?"

Jack sighed, would the kid ever stop asking questions? Even on his deathbed.

"Who's Luke Skywalker?!" Teal'c almost yelled. Even Jack knew better than to question the Great Star Wars in the big man's presence.

10. Janet

A nice quiet day in the infirmary was just what she needed after that big fight with Cassandra. When would she grow up and realize that biker boys were really not in her best interests? Janet was relishing in the peace of the office, alone with loads of medical equipment and a mile-high pile of mindless government work to distract her. But it would all be coming to a close soon because SG-1 had left yesterday, she should be expecting to go to the Gateroom sometime soon. They never managed a routine mission, did they? Everyone else on the base felt connected to SG-1 because, well, they were SG-1, but Janet Fraiser knew and loved them purely due to the fact that she spent most of her time looking after them.

"Unscheduled off-world activation." The PA speakers boomed, alarm klaxon's going off as usual. It's about time, she thought. Time to schlep myself over to the gateroom. SG-1's in trouble. Again.

She ran off down the hallway, white lab coat flying behind her like a cape, the rest of the medical team not far behind. Wait for it ...

"Medical team to the gateroom." * ... There it is.*

I wonder who it is this time. Has Colonel O'Neill blown his knee again? Or maybe Teal'c is having problems with Tetronin. She sighed, mid stride. As if I should be so lucky. I might even welcome a staff weapon burn -a non-lethal one of course- as long as it's not another alien virus or a mind download or something.

Dr. Fraiser broke into the Gateroom, behind all of the SFs with their guns lowered, barely out of breath. 7 years working at the SGC had given her plenty of time to master the run from the infirmary. The gate had already shut down, which at least meant there were no enemy pursuers, and General Hammond had made his way down from the control room, entering just in front of her and making his way directly to the beginning of the ramp.

Her initial observations made her give an inward groan, probably an alien virus. Jonas was outstandingly pale, even as she approached. The nurses will be happy to spend more quality time with him. And I get to keep them in check and maybe check him out in the process. Yum. All the other members of the team appeared fine, though Daniel had a somewhat sour look on his face, beneath the look of concern that they all bore. There must have been some really nifty ruins on the planet, she decided.

Colonel O'Neill and Sam were supporting Jonas delicately in between them. At least he can still walk. She told herself, as he collapsed onto his knees at the bottom of the ramp and proceeded to throw up all over the General's shoes.

As Hammond bent down to lay a hand reassuringly on the young man's shoulder, murmuring in his soft Texan accent, "Are you alright, son?" Janet couldn't help but smile to herself. Was there any other place in the world where a civilian scientist could get away with ruining a General's dress shoes? O'Neill had that twinkle in his eye that signaled an onslaught of sarcastic remarks, silenced quickly by a brief glare from the General. Sam just barely stifled a giggle, Daniel doing the same. Teal'c could only raise an eyebrow.

"I'm fine," Jonas groaned. "Sorry, Sir."

Janet stooped down to take a pulse and feel his forehead. Jesus, he was burning up. Alien virus. Possibly limited to Kelownan physiology. Aka. headaches, groundbreaking medical discoveries, and lots of coffee. This was going to be a long day.

"Every time he says that I believe him less and less. Darn Kelownan pride, can't ..."

"Help me get him onto the gurney." She barked at Colonel O'Neill. Did she really sound that domineering? All in a days work. Who else got to snap at a special ops trained colonel on a daily basis, not counting the general, of course? I love my job. Sometimes.

"I can walk."

"Shut up and let us get you to the infirmary." Who else got to snap at an alien on a daily basis? With the Colonel's help she managed to get Jonas on the gurney.

"Has Jonas done anything that might cause him to come into contact with a disease that the rest of you haven't?"

"You mean other than healing the sick and magically reading alien text?" Jack smirked.

"Jonas has been healing people?"

"I'm right here, guys, and I haven't been healing them, I've been expelling their demons." Add delusional to the symptoms and get an MRI and a PET scan, stat.

"And an alien dunked his head into a pool of water." Sam produced a sample container filled with a clear liquid to accompany the worried look on her face.

"I'll have to run a lot of tests." She sighed, rushing the gurney out of the Gateroom, yelling over her shoulder. "General, I'll need your shoes for a ... um ... sample."

<<<>>>

"First thing's first, Doctor, is he contagious?"

"Well I can at least eliminate the alien virus idea. The stomach sample you so generously provided, Sir, showed that he hasn't ingested anything unusual unless you count chocolate covered fishsticks, of course."

"Yuck." O'Neill groaned. Sam managed to get away with just wrinkling her nose, but only barely.

"And I haven't found evidence of antibodies amassing in him or the rest of SG-1."

"What about the sample we gave you?"

"Just plain H2O, I'm afraid."

"His case reminds me a great deal of Aiyanna after she healed us. His white blood cell count is dropping and he's showing sign of extreme fatigue verging on shock."

"But Jonas must have worked on hundreds of people, some of them with permanent or genetic ailments, while Aiyanna got sick after only healing us."

"There's always the chance that the two are utterly unrelated, though it seems unlikely. We have to remember that Jonas is a healthy young man in excellent shape when Aiyanna was frozen for thousands of years and was struggling with both the unfreezing process and the terminal stages of a virus."

"But if Jonas was an Ancient wouldn't she have recognized that?"

"I didn't say that Jonas is an Ancient. Besides, how would she have known? Jonas hadn't demonstrated any healing abilities before."

"He showed other unusual talents though. How do we know this isn't Nitri's doing?"

"We don't. Though I doubt it. Nitri has nothing to gain from a Hok'tar that can heal people, that's what a sarcophagus and a hand device are for after all. And why would she want to read whatever this language is?"

"To find out something about the Ancients?"

"I don't think even Nitri is sophisticated enough to program the knowledge of a language she doesn't even know herself into the genetic code. Besides, I saw no evidence of a tumor or anything of the sort on the MRI. We've always known that Jonas' brain function was different than ours, now I show him using his brain differently, and using areas that are usually dormant."

"Like when I had the library in my mind"

"That's right, Colonel."

"JonasQuinn never placed his head in such a device, DoctorFraiser."

"I know Teal'c. I hate to say it, but I think that we might have to consider the possibility that this entire thing is completely natural."

"Natural?! He could barely stand, Doc, and he puked on the General's shoes. Besides, how normal is healing people?"

"For Jonas it might just be normal, Sir. He's suffering from the incredible strain of healing so many people, but other than physical stress, these changes in physiology don't seem to have affected him. His mind isn't showing the same kind of deterioration yours did."

"So next time we find a head pluggy library downloading thing, we stick Jonas in it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"But he seems relatively normal, in an overexcited puppy dog sort of way."

"'Seems' is the operative word, Sir. I mean, how much do we really know about him? When he first came here he was the only example of his kind that we had. We assumed that he was the rule, but what if he's the exception?"

"He was considered a genius among his people." Sam reminded them.

"We don't even know how exceptional he really was though. I mean he's so damn modest all the time. I always thought, yes, Carter, I do think occasionally: If Jonas' people were so brilliant why were they so behind us technology-wise?"

"They haven't even developed the technology to test him and see what's different. I mean, I just assumed. When I saw differences between him and Dr. Keiran I wrote them off as due to age, exposure to Naquadria, the effects of schizophrenia. I never stopped to consider that there was something drastically different." Janet wished she had considered it. This might have been prevented. Though they weren't seeing any long-term side-effects, it was only a matter of time. Working at the SGC had taught her that nothing came without a price.

"So Jonas is different, we all knew that. What are we going to do about it?"

"Isolate the changes and see if there's anything we can do to help him, I guess. If he stops over exerting himself it might not even be a problem, Sir."

"There's going to be a downside, Doc. Trust me, there's always a downside." The Colonel sighed. So someone else agreed.

"I hope you're wrong, Sir. We would do well to gather some info right now. For all we know this could be just a developmental stage, though something tells me it's not. We need to find the trigger. I'll find out more about Jonas' experiences on Kelowna." She felt guilty, he'd been here over a year and she'd never really asked him about his past. It was easy to get distracted by his enthusiasm for anything and everything new. If only I'd taken the time to show some interest, I might have seen this coming. She scolded herself.

"Have you found anything in the ruins, Dr. Jackson?"

"Actually that's where I run into a slight problem. I can't get even a single word without Jonas, sir."

"Certainly you don't mind asking for his help, Doctor."

"No, it's just ... he's asleep."

"He's been asleep since I pulled him out of the MRI machine about 37 hours ago, Sir. He slept through all of his injections. Curled up like a child in the infirmary as we speak."

"Well that does it. I'm grounding SG-1 at least until he wakes up, and probably until we find out what's going on."

"Sir ..."

"No, Doctor Jackson, you may not return to the planet. Dismissed."

11. Daniel

Jack had cornered him in the hallway on the way back to his office. He should've expected it, with the way he had sulked out of the briefing room, lost in a storm of emotions that he couldn't understand. He needed to go back to that planet. He could feel destiny waiting for him there. It was like a gravitational force, duty the only thing fighting against it, and frankly, Daniel didn't know how much longer duty could hold out.

"Jesus, Daniel," Jack growled as he tugged on his shoulder, forcing him to stop his determined walk to the relative comfort of his artifact- covered space. "You've reverted to your old annoying self. 'I wanna see more ruins, waaah waaah!' I'm not sure this whole um ... unasencion thing has been good for you." He tried vainly to joke. Daniel couldn't even crack a smile.

"I don't know, Jack. I think you're right."

"You do?! Are you sure you haven't come down with something, like Jonas? We could prove 'ole Fraiser wrong on something medical."

"I mean, about there being some sort of Siren's call about the planet. There's just something ... calming about it. This peaceful feeling as though I'm where I'm supposed to be, letting the universe guide me. It reminds me of what little I remember from when I was ... "

"... ascended."

He nodded tentatively, eyes glazing over and passing into mystified nostalgia. What he couldn't tell Jack -though he desperately wanted to- was that someone was there. He didn't know who, exactly, but they had been very close. Not just a mentor like Oma, but a friend, a kindred spirit, a love, if such words could be used for the ascended. And he had a feeling that whoever it was that was watching PX-1218 had been somewhat involved in his descenscion, saving him from a harsher fate, somehow. He wracked his mind, trying desperately to remember, but continuing to hit walls. He could only get a whiff of emotion. Some part of him was crying out with loss, but all those well-built walls kept the sorrow in.

Jack was gazing at him quizzically, maybe even a bit sympathetically. He tried to put on a stoic face, though he had the feeling that it came out a distracted scowl. An awkward silence passed between them before Jack shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, concern showing through. Both of them were playing roles in this dance of haphazard communication. Jack sighed. "When you're ready to talk, Daniel ..." he said openly, brushing past him toward his office. "I'll be in my office doing paperwork and waiting for Jonas to tell us what the hell is going on."

Jonas! Daniel stayed glued to the floor, eyes following the grey of the walls into a bland infinity. He had almost forgotten about Jonas in all of the chaos of his own thoughts and emotions. His friend was still sick in the infirmary; he should go down and watch over him. He turned around and walked towards the infirmary, nearly knocking over another civilian carrying a bunch of papers and making an airmen jump out of his way, lost in thought.

He needed to understand what was going on on Golgotha. It made sense, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. He knew that Thoth had been employed by Anubis to conduct eugenics experiments, but the super soldiers were already completed, what did Thoth hope to gain from a planet of superhumans? Jack had informed him of how Nuscha had said that the Minerva had protected the people of the planet from Anubis. It didn't make sense. If she were truly in opposition to Anubis and in possession of a force that could defeat him, Anubis wouldn't have hesitated to attack.

Then it hit him. Thoth wasn't finished. That's why she had banned Anubis. The super soldiers that they had been fighting were only the first step. They were cloned, the Goa'uld within them modified to obey rather than follow its own thirst for power, the host cloned and then brought back from the dead. That was its only weakness. Thoth intended to create a new race of super soldiers, more loyal than the Jaffa, with loyalty instilled in both the symbiote and the host, and no weapon -even the information that they had recovered from the device in South America- would stop them. He shuddered with the thought.

Before he knew it, he was standing facing the unblemished white of the curtains in the infirmary. He could feel Jonas beyond those curtains; the fallout of his inner peace was deeply stirring, even through physical barriers.

Daniel took a deep breath and stepped around the curtains, brushing past Janet on her way out. She offered a wan smile, but didn't dare disrupt the near palpable bond she saw in Daniel's focus.

He needed Jonas to wake up. Some part of him, deep-down, knew that Jonas would be okay, that this was even routine. Daniel was less worried for his physical health than the sadness that he sensed in him, even now - as though he really had taken on all of the sins of mankind.

He couldn't hide a troubled frown, not that Jonas' eyes were awake to see it. "It's not you fault," Daniel whispered, taking his place at the young man's side, barely conscious of how right it felt - that it was his destiny to stand at Jonas' side for an eternity.

Jonas had truly seen the suffering in the world, and that was only one world in thousands. He had felt it and loved it and tried to heal it, but even Jonas could not take on the burden of all of mankind. He just didn't have the strength to heal them all. Still, together, at least there would be two of them, if that could make a difference. Daniel felt himself sinking into relentless pessimism and rationality, like quicksand. Perhaps he was truly world-weary. He had to snap out of it. He had to be strong, for Jonas, because he was almost convinced that Jonas could feel him.

Daniel was just about ready to settle in for the long haul, throwing as much love and encouragement at the draining sadness he felt before him, when Jonas opened one smiling green eye then another, raising his hand to his lips to silence the cry of glee that Daniel was about to unleash.

"Daniel, you have to help me." Jonas gave a harsh whisper, arm outstretched, eyes imploring, sucking him deep into their emerald depths to the plain of higher truths where every atom in the universe truly held beauty, but equally encompassed sorrow.

Daniel looked away, trying to shrug off the obvious gravity of the plea. "Sure. Can I get you a glass of water or something?"

He felt a hand snake out to ensnare his own, still struggling to avoid that gaze. Daniel could feel the warmth of a pulse against his, slightly slower than his, dominating it and regulating it - but that was completely normal for a Kelownan, wasn't it? And the calm spread outward from Daniel's heart, eating away at the corners of consciousness, devouring every worry, every grain of self doubt, until it touched upon a note of bliss that echoed back from the past electrifying every cell to a state of hyper awareness. It was there with a universe of detail, the voices lurked within the chorus of a single breath and silence spoke volumes unchallenged, that they met.

A voice filled the void, the spaces between heartbeats, making everything not better, but more. The tone was rich and melodic, saturated with just enough pain and longing to compel the tides of his own sympathy. "You know what I'm going to ask you." Jonas' words were steady, without a hint of reprimand.

"You want to go back."

"With all my heart."

"General Hammond said you have to stay here. It's for your own good. I wasn't here, but I read the mission reports. Last time something like this happened, you came close to killing yourself trying to do good."

"And you succeeded in killing yourself trying to do good. You have to understand. My life means nothing in comparison to what these people mean. I'm responsible for them."

"Jonas, you can put your skills to just as much use here. Earth needs you too."

"You felt something on my planet, didn't you Daniel? You knew somewhere deep down that you were supposed to be there. It's a whisper, and it's calling to me. Don't you understand? I've never truly known who I am, because who I am and what I am meant to do are one and the same. I'm meant to be there, Daniel. You have to let me follow my destiny. He'd want you to."

"Who's on that planet, Jonas?"

"He still cares about you, worries even."

"Who?"

"My father."

"There's a part of me that misses him still."

"Maybe that's how you and I became friends so quickly."

"No, you and I are friends of our own right. So how is He?"

"You can speak to him yourself."

So another voice slipped gracefully into the conversation, multiplying the dimensions of his inner space and pushing him to a new depth of love and fulfillment. His inner being shuddered as the tranquility nestled into his heart.

"I've missed you too." The voice was deeper than Jonas', but just as soft. It lacked some of the luster of wonder, but conveyed the longing much more plainly, an additional degree of sadness, verging on mourning. Though what a being that cultivated such a sense of joy within him could have to mourn was beyond him. He drank deep of the familiar tones, the familiar soul.

"I wish I could remember ..."

"You chose to forget, Daniel."

"I what?"

"You chose to leave the past behind because the future was more important. You couldn't be burdened by all that you sacrificed."

"What did I sacrifice?"

"I tried to save you. I tried to show you that people have to be left to their own fate, even innocents. Once upon a time we shared the pain of watching those we love suffer and make mistakes, as is the burden of our kind, but it was too much for you. You didn't have faith, Daniel. Part of loving someone is having faith in them."

"I ... I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"Help him, Daniel. Let him decide his own fate."

He nodded silently, feeling the bright haze of security and recognition die around him, a little bit of him dying with it.

Jonas' words were harsh and unnatural as they jolted through the cold air of the infirmary, as though these were the first words to reach his newborn ears. "Help me, Daniel."

The need in those words alone, more powerful than duty or regulation or gravity, was enough to push him over the edge. He gave Jonas' hand a squeeze signaling his agreement.

The words were in his head again. "I need the artifact from P4X-4539, you know the ancient device you've been banging your head against for weeks now."

"We've been banging our heads against it, until you unveiled your magic talents. I'm curious, though: what does it do?"

"Lets me walk through walls."

"The iris? But we can't dial out."

"I can. I'm just going to need your help."

"How?"

"I'm running on empty. If I could just borrow a little strength from you ..."

"Do you even have to ask?"

Daniel saw a gleam in Jonas' eye. Even if he was privy to some great universal secrets, he was still humble enough to react to a simple show of friendship.

"It'll hurt."

"I don't care, just do me a favor and throw me a bone."

"What kind of bone?"

"What does the obelisk say?"

"I'll tell you later, promise. Janet's about to leave, we have to act."

With that, Jonas shot out of bed with surprising force, all of the electrodes attached to him ripping off - though the monitors maintained a steady beat.

"Nifty," Daniel whispered, walking as nonchalantly as possible into the hallway, and, seeing no one there, motioning for Jonas to follow. They made it back to the lab without meeting a soul, though Daniel did have to steady Jonas just once as he began listing to the side.

Once safety locked inside, Jonas raided Daniel's supply closet for the spare pair of BDUs that the archeologist kept there for when his own became too dusty and started to work on his allergies, while Daniel fetched the artifact from one of the sealed drawers. It formed the shape of a human hand, its shadowy grey surface covered in a mix of symbols: letters and form like the ancient's language, though complete nonsense. Daniel and Jonas had tried pressing their hands against it every which way, with little success, though they both refused to believe that its purpose was purely decorative.

"Wanna see something cool?" Jonas grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't tell me ..." Before Daniel could finish his sentence, Jonas pressed his palm to the device and it formed a liquid grey surface on the bottom of his hand. Daniel shook his head disparagingly. *Too painfully simple, yet impossible.

Jonas chuckled, though his features soon softened. "Daniel ..."

"Don't say your goodbyes, Jonas."

"I wasn't going to Daniel. You and I have a business to take care of on the other side. I just wanted to thank you for doing this for me, for trusting me."

Daniel didn't know what to say. He could barely stand the cleansing sincerity in that tone, the smile in those eyes. "You're welcome."

Jonas let his deviceless hand rest gently on Daniel's chest. Daniel was getting around to thinking that this was weird, when he felt a tingling in his fingers and toes, spreading down his arms and legs at a lightning pace, before he was even able to open his mouth to yell in pain, the tingling crescendoed to a crackling as a bolt of energy exploded from him and into the waiting hand. His limbs turned to jello, as strong arms lay him gently on the floor.

It seemed like eons before he was strong enough to move again, lost in a sea of numb desperation, with no agency, blankness where memories and dreams faded together in a comforting blanket of irrationality. The voice was there, and he smiled. Then there was someone at the door to his little sanctuary of dulled confusion. From all around there came a pounding sound, so bright and loud that he felt as though his head would implode from the pressure. What was that?

Oh yeah, a warning klaxon. Why did that trouble him? ... Jonas! He forced his emptied muscles into action. He stood a little shakily, the room spinning around him and took a few deep breaths.

Then, before his muscles had a chance to complain, he ran out toward the Gateroom. SFs were stalking down the corridors, barely giving him a second glance as they converged on their target. Daniel had almost made it when he suddenly lost all desire for motion, a great calm overwhelming him. Somehow he knew that this wasn't just a side-effect of the drain. Jonas was close. He leaned back against the wall to try and hone in on the source of the feeling. Suddenly, the solid concrete that he had been resting on just seconds before seemed to melt away, and he fell back into waiting arms.

"Daniel," Jonas hissed, "I was hoping to keep you out of trouble."

"It seems like you found some."

"I tripped a failsafe when I tried to deactivate the backup system."

"What backup system?"

"The one that stops people from dialing manually while the gate's hooked up to the generator."

"Why couldn't you just wait to get cleared by Frasier?" Daniel sighed.

Jonas' eyes fell as tears threatened to fill them. "I should have told you earlier. They've taken Nuscha."

"God!" Daniel breathed. From what little he knew of him, Daniel had grown to truly like and respect that man. "Let me come with you."

"No. You have to brief SG-1."

"Jonas, we could have gone without you."

"The people need me, you know that."

"Fine, they need you. Now what are we going to do about it?"

Jonas walked past Daniel, into what he just noticed was one of the armories, and pulled two zats out of a box, tossing one to Daniel.

Though he hated betraying the sanctuary of the only place on this plane of existence he could call home, he knew that he needed to do this. Daniel grabbed the zat, as Jonas took his arm, nodding as he pressed his other hand against the wall in front of them. A second later, they were out in the corridor, and running toward the Gateroom.

The blast doors had sealed themselves and a troop of SFs was waiting as they rounded the bend. "Dr. Jackson, Mr. Quinn, you shouldn't be here, we have a saboteur in our midst." One of them commented.

"Sorry," they said in unison, zatting the five airmen before they could even raise their weapons. Another miracle later, they were standing in the Gateroom, lights flashing and klaxons blaring around them.

"I'm going to need a little more from you Daniel," Jonas said gently.

Daniel nodded, feeling the crackle of desperate pain return as the gate began spinning almost of its own accord, cheverons clicking in place to form the familiar angry column of what seemed to be water, the iris winking the shimmering pool of water out before it even appeared. Daniel sank, completely exhausted, to his knees as Jonas began walking up the ramp.

"See you on the other side, Daniel."

"The translation, Jonas. You promised," he chocked weakly.

"Chiergabas are docile heard creatures domesticated by the Golgathans for food and a Machierdold is someone who manages them."

With that, he extended a metal covered hand, warping even the indestructible metal of the iris as he leaned through it with casual ease. The wormhole's dispersion amid the hypnotic rhythm of the klaxons served as a gong beat of worrisome finality.

"I will destroy the manager and the docile heard creatures will fall apart ..." The words danced in his weary mind, flirting with familiarity and calling him back to his days of comparative religions. And then it rose from the depths almost involuntarily ... "I will strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will scatter."

He didn't even stop to take a breath as his body carried him toward the blast doors almost as involuntarily as the unruly will of memory. He pressed the button to open the door, walking straight into the muzzles of several M-16s and a group of fierce looking airmen. He never really considered the terrifying quality of the SGC's defensive teams until he was standing in front of them rather than behind as he waited for his turn to speak to whoever had just entered the wormhole.

"Look, I had my reasons. Now I need to speak with General Hammond." He rushed forward, heart pounding in his chest, concern for his friend overpowering his need for self-preservation until the airmen pushed him back into the Gateroom. "Damnit! Jonas is about to walk into trouble. I need to ..."

Then he heard it. Another sound adding to the blare of the unauthorized gate access warnings and the bright flashes of red light that were already drilling themselves deep into his brain - the familiar swoosh of the wormhole forming and the unsettling blue glow that it cast over the room. Jonas just won himself a 38 lead - 38 minutes when he could walk into his doom. Daniel cursed to himself, drawing suddenly flesh-weary arms through his hair and sighing.

And then the SFs began to part, like the red sea. Daniel knew what was coming. "Pulling an eggs benedict, Danny-boy?" Jack's voice was harshly reprimanding, without the usual playful lit, something Daniel hadn't truly heard in years. He looked up to meet abyssal brown eyes, eyebrows raised impatiently.

"Benedict Arnold. Look ... Jack, I ... we need to go get Jonas before it's too late."

"And who's fault would that be?"

Daniel sighed, finding a strange rage growing within him, rushing through his arteries like a wildfire, igniting and laying waste to his well-learned diplomacy. "Enough with the sarcastic quips, Jack! In 38 minutes we need to go through that gate!"

"That's just what I intend to do, Daniel, but, naturally, I'm a tiny bit concerned that you've snapped, considering you just broke a shitload of military regulations, base security procedures, and ... oh let's see ... personal trust. Not to mention recklessly endangering us and a member of my team who also happens to be your friend. Now, please ..."

"Dr. Jackson, what the hell do you think you're doing?" General Hamound's familiar Texan drawl boomed as the SFs parted further to allow the General's considerable form to approach.

"I ..." What are you going to say? That your soul-mate from a higher plane of existence told you to do it and now you realize that it was a mistake? I don't think so. That inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Jack was whining. Daniel didn't usually listen to his inner doubts, but he was working under a deadline. " ... he coerced me. Alien mind control ... you know ..." He withered under Jack's disbelieving stare. " ... Look, the point is, I know what the inscription on the obelisk says now and that's why in ..." He looked down at his watch. "... 36 minutes, we need to haul ass through that gate." He couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice.

General Hammond met his eyes, scrutinizing the very bonds of fear and anguish that held them wide open and unblinking. "Briefing room," was all he said.

12. George

General George Hammond couldn't help but notice the way Colonel O'Neill glared at Dr. Jackson. He could see the contempt in his gaze, and maybe even a little of the wounded trust that hid beneath it. Teal'c stood stoically behind Jackson, though George couldn't tell if this was to protect the rest of them from whatever completely unpredictable move he was about to make next or to protect the archaeologist from O'Neill. Major Carter had a look of concern stitched deeply into her brow and couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Daniel, as though he were going to explode at any minute.

"General, I think we should send Dr. Jackson down to the infirmary ..." O'Neill practically growled.

"I'm fine, Jack. I did this of my own free will. It would be a waste of time." Daniel turned to face him, a plea written on every inch of his features. "General, just hear me out."

The general considered the pained expression in those clear blue eyes. He had seen Daniel's silent plea a thousand times before, from when he wanted to launch a rescue mission to when he lay dying, but he had never felt this kind of intensity before, as though the powers of the universe were thrown behind the appeal. He couldn't help but be drawn in by it. "Go ahead, son." His comment was met by a hastily concealed scowl from Colonel O'Neill.

"The inscription on the obelisk reads, 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.'"

"Matthew 26:31." Colonel O'Neill murmured, earning him the full attention of everyone in the room, "Irish Catholic," he explained. George shook his head; he never thought he would see the day when Jack O'Neill expounded Bible citations in the briefing room. Admittedly he'd seen stranger, but not much.

"So you see why we have to go back to the planet?" He could hear the urgency in Dr. Jackson's voice.

George sighed, "I'm not sure what biblical references have to do with this, Dr. Jackson."

Dr. Jackson fidgeted nervously, hands playing impatiently through his hair as he ran his words together in haste to get them out. "I can't believe I never saw it before, it's so blatantly obvious. Jesus was an Ancient. I mean, think about it, he possessed amazing healing powers; he was brutally killed only to have his body disintegrate then reappear three days later when he gave his people one last teaching. Even the whole immaculate conception thing makes sense."

"How so?"

"Imagine, you're a member of a dying race; you've ascended to another plain of existence, but you still want to further your species' corporeal development. Your people have been ravished by a disease, what would you do?"

"I would look for a cure," Major Carter answered.

"And how would you do that? You would look to a species similar to your own that was seemingly unaffected, like humans. You might try incorporating your DNA into theirs, so that you might have some sort of biological legacy. I mean, we know that the Asguard are in a similar situation and are employing techniques of genetic manipulation and tampering."

"So all those things that you might read about in the tabloids, if you happen to be the kind of person who reads tabloids, about alien babies are true?" Colonel O'Neill quipped, only to receive a harsh glare from Dr. Jackson.

"Is it really that hard to imagine that the Ancients might try this as a sort of last-ditch attempt?"

"So Jesus Christ was essentially a hybrid." Major Carter smiled. She was a scientist to the bone. She probably jumped at the chance to be able to rationalize the Christian religion.

"He did call himself the Son of Man and insist that his father was in heaven. I mean, there is that very long lists detailing Mary's genealogy, perhaps there is something inherently significant or Ancient-like about her line and the line descending from Abraham and Jesus' father. The writers of the Bible were pretty obsessed with genealogy and 'begots' after all."

"Are you suggesting eugenics, Dr. Jackson?" George asked, worriedly. He couldn't have their biggest allies be involved in the same thing as the Nazis. Where was the moral high-ground in that? Then again, who needed a moral high-ground in a war that the populous at-large did not know about?

"Most of the old testament reeks of eugenics. God kills the unworthy. He promises Abraham and his descendants that they will one day rule the holy land. Perhaps he is talking about all that the Ancients left behind, or Earth, the Stargate system, the fight against the Goa'uld, everything. Most of the Old Testament is God eliminating the weak blood, whether it be forcing them to wander through the desert to destroy the weak of body, the punishments after the whole golden-calf incidence to rid himself of the weak of faith, or the destruction of the towns of Soddom and Gomorah for the weak of mind. Even Noah's Ark can been seen as nothing more than a metaphor for ethnic cleansing - despite the fact that there really was a flood."

"That almost sounds like something we might expect from Nitri or Thoth, but the Ancients?"

"Well, we know from Anubis that not all the ascended are good or perfect. I mean, we've been assuming that Anubis is the way he is because he found some sort of loophole to ascend, but what if he wasn't a mistake, just as I wasn't a mistake? He's just being punished. In fact, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Imagine the desperation, the turmoil, of those years when the Ancients were first beginning to ascend. They were unused to their condition and the power it presented them. They wouldn't have had rules against intervention right away, and they still would have been searching for ways to avoid this disease. They were still intimately connected to the land of mortality and those within it, and concerned about their fate. I imagine that the faction that seeks to intervene in human affairs and stem their suffering, like Oma and, I guess, myself, was larger. They might not even be above the use of eugenics to engineer a race much like their own, one capable of carrying their torch."

"You mean that thing I stuck my head in?"

"Perhaps. We could even go further if we take the events in the Garden of Eden to be true. Maybe Eden was a lab, Adam and Eve lesser-evolved forms of the Ancients, not susceptible to this disease, or perhaps a genetic defect that made it impossible for them to reproduce. But the lab rats achieved consciousness, and the experimenter was forced to let them evolve on their own. Or perhaps they realized that the necessary evolution could not be done in a lab."

"I'm not sure I would go that far, Dr. Jackson." George frowned. Dr. Jackson sure was reading a lot into the Bible. But, then again, that was his job. George just never expected that his own religion would ever be one debunked and melded onto fact by his resident archeologist. Even after they had seen so many of the world's religions and their Gods proven false, he somehow still found it within himself to continue his faith. Now all of that was being thrown into question. Still, with the fate of the Earth in question, he couldn't afford to be biased.

"So it's a tad bit extreme, but I can still see how someone like Anubis might come about. Let's say he's an assistant, a follower of this movement to develop a cure with eugenics. He might be one of the angels of destruction, sent from heaven to rain fire and kill the wicked. Maybe he gets to like this too much, or believe it too fervently, and is committed to the development of a hok'taur. But then everything changes."

"There's a paradigm shift between the new and old testaments," George guessed.

"That's right. Something happens, a disaster maybe."

"Like what happened with Orlan."

"That's right. Suddenly the ascended realize that their intervention has drastic consequences and renounce most of their ties to this plane of existence. There's a huge swing away from this direct eugenics and Anubis is left on the out and punished for it. He allies with Thoth to better develop human beings, continuing his eugenics program through the rules and regulations imposed by Thoth in his various forms. We have reason to believe that the Golgothans are actually a more advanced form of the super soldier we have been fighting, and are potentially even more dangerous."

George still found himself reluctant to believe. He generally thought of the Ancients as benevolent beings. After all, they had saved Dr. Jackson, built the Stargate system, and created the non-violent Zen tradition on Earth. Then again, he was falling into that old trap, like when a child fails to see his parent's wrongdoings. Just because they were glowing beings literally capable of enlightenment, it didn't mean that the Ancients didn't have a shaky past. It didn't mean that they didn't have sects, some good and bad. Maybe someone like Anubis really did have a place, and maybe he was once allied with people like Oma Desala. Maybe he was one of the reasons that the Ancients shunned the more interventionist of their kind. Still, he wanted to believe that the Ancients were good. The universe would become much scarier place if they weren't. Perhaps that's why they resigned themselves to not intervene. "That's an awful lot of speculation, Dr. Jackson. Can you offer us any hard evidence?"

"Just a feeling, really. I was once ascended, you know."

"Pretty soon, you're going to start using this 'I was once ascended' thing to convince me that you can take the square root of a negative number or something," Colonel O'Neill quipped.

"Actually, Sir, you can ..."

"Shut up, Carter. I don't want to hear it. But if messing with things is against the law, how come we've got the whole New Testament, all 1064 pages of it?"

"1064 pages?"

"Don't you check to see how many pages you have to go when you read?"

"No. But to answer your question: loopholes, every good law's got 'em. Oma seems to have found quite a lot of them. Now, Jesus is mortal. He's the self-proclaimed Son of Man. This means that anything he does is not really intervention by the Ancients. He operates outside of the law. He can come down and teach the people of Earth the basic building blocks of what they need to one day ascend. "

"This is all very good, Dr. Jackson, but what does it have to do with Jonas?"

"That's what the prophecy is about. Jonas spoke to me about his father, in heaven. Jonas is the Jesus of this planet, and he is going through that gate to fulfill the prophesy, trying to do the same thing that Jesus did on Earth 2 millennia ago."

George considered this for a moment. If Jonas was trying to lead a rebellion against Minerva, a Goa'uld, he was still on their side. That didn't explain why Dr. Jackson was so panicked, or his previous act of mutiny. "Look, Jesus walked the Earth for thirty-odd years. We know of his birth, a few of his key speeches, and his death. We know close to nothing about his life, not to mention the nearly 27 years that are just plain missing. Jesus came to Earth to die. It's not his life that eventually converts people, it's his death. Jonas is going to his death. "

George sighed. He trusted Dr. Jackson. In fact he trusted him enough to risk lives, his own included, at a word, but he still had a hard time believing his words. He wanted to believe that Jonas was the next so-called Messiah, but he just couldn't. He knew Jonas. He was young, passionate, empathetic, and idealistic, but he was not Jesus Christ. Jesus was never just a man. Still, if Jonas' death could truly produce a Jesus-like mass conversion of an army of super soldiers, was it worth it? "While I am not entirely convinced by your analogies, Dr. Jackson, there is clearly a Goa'uld threat to be dealt with and a chance to deal a blow to Anubis. At this point, Jonas' actions are unpredictable and must be monitored if we don't want this to explode in our faces."

George didn't want to be the one to say it, and he certainly didn't want to have to order it, but it was his duty to his country and all those oppressed by the Goa'uld. "If the Golgothans are a threat, no matter how harmless they appear now, perhaps they are the enemy."

Surprisingly, Teal'c was the first one to protest. "They still possess the will to obey or disobey."

"Do we know that?" Sam responded with a grimace.

"If you felt the same about the Jaffa, I would not be here now." Teal'c seemed almost angry with Major Carter, something unusual, but, then again, no one appreciated free-will as much as the once enslaved.

"They deserve a chance, Sir." O'Neill's voice was both hardened and regretful. He was decidedly avoiding taking sides, rather taking the cautious middle path. He met George's eyes significantly. George knew that if it came down to it, O'Neill would wage war against the enemy, even if Teal'c opposed it, even if they were effectively innocents. The super soldiers they knew were slaves to biology and if the Golgothans proved to be the same, O'Neill would not hesitate. He would grieve, but he would never hesitate.

George nodded curtly. "SG-1, prepare to disembark. Dr. Jackson, I need to speak with you."

Major Carter shot Dr. Jackson a quick look of support as she followed Teal'c out of the briefing room. O'Neill was already halfway to the elevator.

"I made a mistake, General." Dr. Jackson began, remorse and regret burning in his eyes. "I acted without full knowledge of the situation, and I broke more rules than I can count, and should be punished accordingly. At the time I believed that Jonas needed to be on Golgotha, and I still believe in him. Now, I believe that SG-1 needs to be there too, and that I need to be there. You may not believe in prophesies, General, and I'm not even sure I do, but like the Golgothans, I need a chance."

George could not deny the plea on Jackson's face. He was confused by the longing he saw there, as though he was only staring at the shadow of a man, half-present. He did not believe Dr. Jackson was working for the enemy, and while Jackson might not be entirely rational at the moment, George believed that his presence was necessary. George didn't really know why, but he believed Daniel's words. Somewhere deep-down, he was swayed by the nearly palpable need that seemed to emanate from the archaeologist. "You will face punishment, Dr. Jackson, and it will be rather severe. Now, however, you are needed off-world."

Daniel practically ran out of the room.

13. Daniel

Daniel crashed through the doors of the Lockerroom, nearly knocking Jack over as he made for his locker. Jack grabbed his wrist and clenched it just tight enough to make his strength felt without hurting Daniel. Sam and Teal'c were probably off gathering gear, so they were left alone. Daniel never thought that there would come a day when he was afraid of Jack O'Neill, a man he loved as a friend and trusted with his life, but, for a second only, that fierce stare made his heart leap. The anger melted into concern in an instant, however, reminding Daniel painfully that, as long as the fate of the world lay in their hands, Jack was first a soldier then his friend.

"I need to know that you're not going to flip out on me again, Daniel." Jack said icily. For some reason, Daniel always found Jack's quiet tones more menacing than if he were shouting. When Jack yelled, Daniel could just yell right back, but now his implied request was just as much personal as it was a command.

Daniel stared into those dark eyes, noting how they studied him warily. "We need to help Jonas."

"As far as I'm concerned, Daniel, Jonas is a liability. Whatever's going through his head, while he might think it is in line with our objective, is not coordinated with it. Jonas is a loose-cannon. I can't afford to look after both of you. If General Hammond says you come, that's an order I can't disobey. You proved that you are just as much of a problem as Jonas is, so as much as I would hate to do this to ya: if you set so much of a toe out of line, you're going back through the gate faster than you can say 'Hallelujah.' And Jonas is going to help us start a rebellion, whether he wants to or not."

Daniel was exasperated. Why couldn't Jack understand? "Don't you see? Jonas is Jesus. He has the power to save us all. He's walking into a trap. At first it's all healing and turning water into wine, but I really don't like how the story ends, Jack. But ..."

"And I've yet to see a lick of that wine, Daniel, and I'm not going to. Know why? 'Cause there's only so far metaphor and analogy can go. Now, Jonas is an Ancient, I can accept. Aliens have the Bible, I can accept. Jesus was an Ancient, I can accept. But Jonas is the Messiah? Not a chance in hell. I mean it's Jonas, goddamn it!"

"I think you just broke a couple of commandments."

"So sue me. The point is, Daniel: just because Thoth is all obsessed with his victory around year zero ..."

"Actually, it wasn't really year ..."

"... just because Thoth was all obsessed and some new-age-hippie-gone-mad of a guy blesses him and spouts some vaguely familiar and, might I add clich, maximums, it does not mean that history is going to repeat itself. I would like to think that we are free to choose our own future. Besides, since when do you actually take the over the top pompous shit that we hear from every stinking Goa'uld seriously?"

"I'm right, I just know ..."

"Daniel ..." He sounded threatening. "Is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Jack, you're just going to trust me, that's all there is to it." He wanted to tell, Jack. Before Jonas came along, Jack had been his best friend, and he still cared deeply about him. He just ... Jack would never understand. They had seen so many false Gods fall, and Jack was a skeptic to begin with. Even if the Ancients weren't Gods in the Christian sense of the world, it didn't matter. That didn't make prophecies false, or change the fact that Jonas had to die for the sins of a very key contingent of followers. That didn't stop the danger they were all in.

"Trust you?! I seem to remember that just a few minutes ago I was trapped on the other side of the blast doors while a certain mad scientist let 'Jesus' walk right to his death."

"I know. You're right." Daniel sighed. He'd made the first mistake. He set the ball rolling and put Jonas in danger. Then again, Jonas said that they would see each other again, and Daniel believed him.

"I am?"

"You are, and I'm really really sorry. But, Jack, Minerva's going to come back and she's not going to like what Jonas is trying to do."

"And we'll fight her, Daniel. I'm just as concerned about Jonas' health as you are, but he had enough strength to overwhelm about a dozen SFs trying to corner him in the control room single-handedly. I think that he'll be okay. He's just doing what we were all planning to do anyway. Look, Daniel, when we step through that gate, in all likelihood, we'll find ourselves in the middle of a firefight. I don't want to hear any more about the Jonas/Jesus parallels. I get it, but frankly, we've got bigger fish to fry."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Jack." He meant that he was afraid, not that Jonas would die fighting, but that Jonas would die willingly. He needed him too much. After his descension, Jonas was the only one who understood. He needed Jonas to survive. Daniel needed to convince him out of walking in his father's footsteps. Daniel didn't know what he had been thinking. Jonas couldn't be allowed to choose his own path. He was too important. Daniel shut his eyes, willing the tears away.

"Well, I'm sure God knows what you're talking about, Daniel, 'cause I certainly don't."

Jack wouldn't believe him. Jack could never believe him, not if Jack wanted to dohis job. He had to act, prophecies and destiny aside. Jack would do whatever necessary to win this war, including letting Jonas walk to his death. He remembered how Jack had left him wounded on that Goa'uld mothership, alone to find his way home. He remembered the instant of intense pain and regret in Jack's eyes as his jaw was set in determination to do what he came to do. And Daniel had made it easier for him, as he would do now. "I guess I'm not sure either."

"Then quit your blabbering and get on your guerilla gear, we've got ourselves a revolt to win."

<<<>>>

Daniel could feel the difference in the air the second he stepped through. It was stale, but charged, leaving the sting of foreboding on the tongue. It was evening now; the statues of the temple seemed menacing with their lifeless stares and the way they seemed to move in the light of oil lamps and torches, replacements for the absence of the sun. Daniel shivered as he walked down the long stone corridor and out into the dusk.

Thunder cracked through the restless air and lightning could be seen on the horizon in a haze of angry purple clouds, formed like a bruise on the otherwise ordered sunset of the desert sky.

But it was not the storm and its humid and uncomfortable air that sent shivers down his spine, but the post silhouetted against the sunset, bringing out the colors of blood in the clouds. Jack motioned for Daniel to stand back while he and the rest of the team investigated. Daniel didn't mind. He already knew what it was.

He heard Sam's surprised gasp in confirmation, stepping forward and letting the shadows resolve themselves into the form of a human head skewered through a tall thin post with a gold emblem representing a scale welded on top to prevent the head's removal.

Daniel recognized the long blond hair and the wide all-encompassing eyes in a moment. It was Nuscha. Jonas had indeed been too late.

"Where is everybody?" Sam asked cautiously, swinging her weapon around the deserted square, nothing moving but the rushing of the soft desert wind as it plunged into the storm on the horizon.

"Out there," Daniel replied, pointing to where the storm gathered. "They are awaiting an answer from Jonas."

Jack gave an exasperated guffaw, but Daniel ignored it, stating evenly, "Well, I don't see anyone around here."

Teal'c spoke up from behind the two of them. "Indeed, O'Neill, the buildings appear to be abandoned as well."

Daniel gave Jack a look both of rebuke and of entreaty. He needed to see Jonas; he could feel the pull in his being, his soul being drawn toward the storm like the mournfully detached desert wind.

<<<>>>

On the edge of the storm they found a vast camp of squatters, seemingly thrown haphazardly from the violence of the lightning and wind that still flashed as angrily as when they set out. Despite the vast nature of the camp, it was eerily silent. It wasn't a silence of reverence or the dreary silence of sleep, but of fear.

Daniel could see the terror on their faces as they wandered the makeshift streets of this shantytown, meandering aimlessly through tents and fires and faces ashen and eyes wide in the death-throws of the sunset. A strange hush had overtaken the members of SG-1 as well, though perhaps it was out of reverence. The Golgothans had evacuated an entire city in the course of an afternoon. It was impressive, in the least.

"Legend states that we must return to the ways of our forefathers in times of trouble." They spun to find Mat standing behind them, now clothed in the robes of a monk.

In a second Isa appeared beside him. "It has been centuries since a state execution. We all mourn." His voice was passionate, but echoed emptily in the silence. "Nuscha was a good man, a dreamer, but a good man." His features were dark as he turned from them, gesturing toward the storm, undaunted by its proximity. "Nuscha was very important to Him. He has taken it hard." His words were even, but Daniel could detect the slight waver of doubt deep beneath them as they excited sympathetic stings deep in his own denial.

"As they say, 'There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.'"

"So now we're quoting Shakespeare?" Jack's sarcastic quip whipped out from behind him, causing Daniel to turn and glare.

"It means that all life is important," Daniel said softly, turning away from the group and walking out into the desert.

He could hear Jack asking him what the hell he thought he was doing, but Daniel studiously ignored him. He needed to find Jonas. He was drawn to that hopeless anger and unbridled sorrow like a moth drawn to a flame. He could remember how that felt, having so much power without being able to use it to save the ones he loved. Death was final and inevitable, if not the end. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt, that God didn't weep with the suffering of even the most insignificant and hateful being, simply because it was the way of the world.

As he drew further away from camp and closer to the heart of the storm, he could make out a white robbed figure seemingly wandering through it, oblivious. Lightning flashed around them, but Daniel was not afraid. Lighting was brilliant but brief, and worldly. There were few worldly things that could truly scare him anymore.

Still, as he approached, he could feel the anger in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was as though there was power coursing through him. Suddenly there was a flash, was it memory? He was on the Pel'tak of a Goa'uld mothership facing the black robed figure of Satan himself. He could feel the anger and grief of the universe in all its righteous glory coursing through him, consuming him.

He could feel the prickle of raindrops as they fell defiantly, absorbed by the cracked desert floor in an instant. They seemed to burn through his skin like freshly shed tears. Another flash and he remembered a lush tropical forest and a deserted temple. The cold stone of an altar once used for human sacrifice, a thousand miles away, barely solid beneath his feet as he made the heavens weep the tears he could not. He wanted some evidence of his pain in the real world as he was forced to watch his best friend be tortured to death. He needed to be strong then, show Jack a calm face as his own empathy tore him apart from the inside, just as he needed to show calm now.

He came up behind Jonas, noticing the tremors coursing through his back as the wind whipped around them.

"They killed him. They killed him, and all he ever did was believe." Daniel might have interrupted to remind him that despite his benevolent ideology, Nuscha had been a revolutionary. They were all revolutionaries, and while their deaths might not be right, they would certainly be justifiable. Daniel couldn't bring himself to remind Jonas of this, however. "I couldn't save him." Jonas' shoulders slumped forward, as the words escaped his lips, nothing more than a strangled whisper.

"You can't save everyone." Daniel placed a reassuring hand on his friend's back.

Jonas turned and gave him an empty half smile. "I can try."

Daniel just shook his head, "The only way to save everyone is to control them all. But once we do that, we might as well have killed them."

"I have the power."

"I had it once too. I let my sadness and my anger consume me. Even if what Anubis did was wrong, I couldn't stop him. I realize now why I had to be punished, as he was punished. No matter how noble our cause, the second we begin to interfere the world loses its meaning. It becomes part of us, part of our will, and ceases to be that amazing thing that we are trying to protect."

Jonas sighed, allowing Daniel to pull him into a brief hug. "I know. It just seems that it is always the innocent who have to suffer. I can't be anything but sad and angry."

"We might not be able to save everyone, Jonas, but we can win this war, and stop all of the suffering that Anubis has caused."

"I would do anything ..." Jonas' words were lost in the last throws of the dying storm as he placed a delicate hand around Daniel's shoulders guiding him silently back toward camp.

<<<>>>

Daniel stood proud at Jonas's side atop the milky whiteness of a sand dune in the twilight, illuminated by Jonas' inner light. A sea of faces stretched out before them, though Jonas used the now-calm warmth of the dessert wind to spread his words.

"I know you have never been given any reason to question - that Minerva and her rules and reasons reign in this place and have served you well. But this is not life. You cannot become enlightened unless you choose to be good. You cannot be forced. She is robbing you of your will and thus your ability to live on. Believe in me, and I will show you how you might transcend this mortal coil.

"You are tempted by the order and stability she provides, by the material pleasures and the years of peace. It is easy to be tempted, my brothers and sisters. I have myself been tempted by a coercive government that offered me everything in exchange for my silence. I too, was seduced by stability. But, by choice, I left that world, and now I stand here before you.

"It is not Minerva and her powerful starships that scare me. Not even Cerberus, guardian of the underworld frightens me. I am not afraid of death, my friends, because after death I will return to my father's side, where you may join me. There is much to do after this life. No, the only thing I fear is apathy. It is not the violent ones that scare me. There are always weapons that can match theirs on the battlefield, but not without soldiers to man them.

"I know the dangers of silent complicity, and I ask you to fight it. Minerva is a false God. She intends to use you as soldiers in a war against the good of the universe. She has stolen your freedom and she seeks to pray on the freedom of others as well. Do not be the tools of the guardian of the underworld. My Father once said, 'Take up your cross and follow me.' It means that we must each fight our own fight against evil. I ask the same of you now."

His eyes sparkled as he looked out at his followers, and Daniel was seduced by the calm of belief that settled into his heart. Still, he felt the snake of doubt slithering on silent feet into the dark corners of his mind. What if belief wasn't enough?

<<<>>>

"The prodigal son returns." Jack scowled at Jonas as he and Daniel entered the tent they shared with the monks.

"Good evening, Colonel O'Neill." Jonas replied with a smile.

Daniel watched as Jack's words caught on his tongue and chuckled inwardly. It was near impossible to stay angry with Jonas.

"Jonas, how dare ... Why did you do it?"

"I thought I could save him, Jack. I knew you wouldn't let me go. And, as sorry as I am that I betrayed your trust, I had to try. Every soul is worth it."

Jack sighed, looking suddenly old and tired as his silver hair sparkled in the firelight and the conflict raged in his eyes. "I see why you had to go, Jonas, but you did betray our trust, and, no matter how noble your intentions, how can we know that you won't do it again?"

Daniel was about to open his mouth to defend his friend, but Jack shot him a glare. There had to be consequences, after all. Daniel turned from Jack's gaze to look at Sam as she struggled to remain quite in the face of Jack's calm accusations. Teal'c even appeared to shift uncomfortably.

Daniel finally let his eyes settle on Jonas. He too, appeared older than his times, the pain of Jack's mistrust apparent in his bright green eyes. Daniel's heart went out to him, knowing that even in the pain, there was only love. His heart stirred. For someone who loved so much and so unconditionally, didn't Jonas deserve to be loved, not mistrusted? Still, it was the love in his friend's eyes that stilled his anger.

"I will not have cause to hurt you further, Jack." He seemed almost ashamed. "But by the time this day is done it is you who will have betrayed me three times."

"I thought I was supposed to deny you, before the cock crows twice." He growled sarcastically, looking straight at Daniel, who winced.

"If only we should be so lucky." Jonas mumbled, moving to sit next to Sam, who enfolded him in a quick embrace, despite the daggers in the Colonel's eyes.

Sam broke the hug to meet Jack's gaze head on. "Look, we've all had a rough day. Let's have something to eat while we figure out our plan of attack. We've got the very best the military has to offer. Will the Messiah take chicken enchiladas or turkey and mashed potatoes?" Sam grinned hopefully, trying to break the tension as she rooted in her pack for a choice of MREs. Even Jack couldn't help but laugh a little as he made a grab for the Salisbury steak.

<<<>>>

He dreamt of the beach. The crashing of the waves was electric now, and urgent, the wind that usually calmed him charged with a hint of worry. He heard his beloved's voice, calm and clear, felt his comforting presence wrap around him. "You have to let him go Daniel."

"No!" His inner voice screamed, still young and full of enthusiasm, lacking the tired list it had acquired in his waking hours.

"You let me go." The voice reprimanded without accusation, almost warmly.

"An entire planet was at risk. I couldn't just let them die." He pouted to the wind.

The reply was patient. He could almost see those warm brown eyes twinkling. "What makes you think there isn't just as much at stake?"

His mind sighed, exasperated. "Why do you have to be so goddamn wise?"

"Now, now, don't speak the Lord's name in vain." The voice chuckled and Daniel could feel the warmth entwining in his very soul. Tendrils of a sympathetic consciousness enshrouding him and comforting him, exciting a memory of love so intense that it took his breath away, igniting the already brilliant sky with the intensity of its passion. He had given this up. It must have been for a good reason.

"I love you so much. Don't leave me." He choked back a sob, feeling the first acid kiss of raindrops as they fell through his ghastly form, the manifestation of his own sorrow.

"I will never stop loving you, Daniel Jackson. But now you must wake. We only ever had these moments, the infinity in the cracks of space-time between breaths. Neither of us could ever escape our ties to the material world. Unlike the others, beyond the chains of time altogether, we are bound by duty. We chose duty before, Daniel, and we'll choose it again. Please, my love, you must wake, my son needs you."

Daniel felt the equivalent of a warm hand on his check, love bleeding through to his broken but still-beating heart.

He awoke with a start, eyes blinking back the haze of sleep and fighting to make out the shapes in the darkness of their tent. He felt somehow empty inside, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine. He fumbled for his glasses, realizing that the bedroll next to him was curiously vacant. He struggled to his feet and stumbled out of the tent under the brilliance of a completely alien set of stars, bright in the desert night.

He nearly tripped over the cloaked figure that sat by the entrance, basking in the starlight. He sat beside him wordlessly, making his worry felt in the tiniest of movements.

"You know what this is, Daniel?"

"It doesn't take a good historian to recognize the Last Supper metaphor, Jonas."

Jonas looked at him quizzically but responded, "Then you understand."

"You can't just go off to your death, Jonas. You're far too important. You have the power to fight Anubis. I couldn't fight him because I was bound by the laws of the Ancients, even if I had the power. You have both the power and the mandate. Even if we somehow defeat his super soldiers, Anubis will still live on, with the power and the knowledge of the Ancients. We need you."

"I can feel their pain." Jonas closed his eyes, a wound beyond the physical etched onto his features. "Only through death can I relieve it. Don't you understand, Daniel? I came here to die. They cannot believe that we will sacrifice for them until we do. They cannot see Minerva's evil until she shows it to them. If I must die for the truth, then, like my Father, I will die to open their eyes." Daniel felt those words like an arrow to the heart, reminded of the other sacrifices that his love had made for the world. "Deep-down, you know I have to do this."

Daniel nodded but he couldn't beat back the tears in his eyes. "You're my best friend. I don't want you to die."

"You know as well as I that death is not the end." Jonas offered a comforting smile as he pulled Daniel into a tight embrace. Daniel sobbed against his shoulder. He had lost so many people in the fight against the Goa'uld, and it never got any easier. He knew death was not the end, but there was still a selfish part of him that wanted people he loved to stay in his life. So many of the citadels of his heart had already crumbled to the ground. He deserved to keep something good in his life, didn't he? Especially after all this life had cost him.

Jonas just fixed him with a compassionate stare, and Daniel felt all of the pain and loneliness in his heart drawn out into those eyes. "I'm coming back. You're my rock Daniel. You've kept me grounded through all this, there's just one thing I need you to do."

"Anything, Jonas."

"Believe in me."

"I believe."

"Then let me go."

Daniel chocked back a sob as he nodded. He couldn't make this any harder for Jonas. He remembered his own friend's fervent pleas when he himself lay dying. It tore him apart to know that he would be leaving them, but he left anyway. Who was he kidding? There was never anything to do but believe. He had to make this as easy on his friend as possible.

He pulled Jonas in for another quick embrace, unable to meet his eyes for fear that he wouldn't be able to hold up. Jonas had other ideas, however, because he grabbed Daniel's chin and forced him to look. All Daniel could see there was love, love so intense that it compelled belief. "It will be okay, Daniel."

Daniel let out a choked sob as he watched Jonas turn and walk into the pale inklings of dawn on the horizon, white robes billowing out behind him. He looked truly divine, and Daniel stood feeling the same ethereal wind cascade around him, sobbing silently until the white dot disappeared into the outskirts of the town silhouetted against the brilliant orb of the sun that painted the clouds with godly beauty. Everything about the moment was fated.

Before he could control his tears, a form barreled out of the tent, sinewy muscles wound tight in fury, P-90 grasped tightly in one hand. "Daniel!" Jack's voice crescendoed, surrounding him and laying siege to the delicate walls of his emotional control. He couldn't even begin to respond, to defend himself. "You let him go ... AGAIN!" Jack looked as though he might hit something, the closest thing available at the moment happening to be Daniel. Not that he would've cared, no tangible hurt could be more than a scratch compared to the gapping wound in his soul.

Their commanding officer's shouts had roused the other members of SG-1, who appeared, alert and ready for battle, outside the tent.

Upon seeing Daniel's tear streaked face, Sam automatically moved to comfort him, hugging him and asking silently with compassionate blue eyes what was wrong.

"Where is he?" Jack shouted.

Daniel's lips trembled. He couldn't bear to tell him what Jonas had gone to do. "He's returned to town."

"And he took Isa with him?"

Daniel couldn't help but show his bewilderment. What was Isa doing? "He went alone."

"This is just great, Daniel. Two missing religious leaders, just what I need!" Jack exclaimed in frustration, returning to the tent just long enough to retrieve the rest of his gear. "I'm going after him. Carter ..." He paused, staring at Sam's vain attempts to comfort Daniel, anger building in his eyes. "... Carter, you're with me. Teal'c, keep an eye on Dr. Jackson, and make sure he doesn't do anything else stupid."

Sam shot Daniel a look of apology as she rose to followed her commanding officer across the dessert toward the dawn of the day of judgment.

14. Teal'c

Teal'c sat patiently atop his and DanielJackson's gear, staff weapon laid out carefully across his lap. Only his eyes moved as they followed DanielJackson in his fervent pacing.

"I doubt expending your energy in such a pointless fashion will aid us in this rebellion, DanielJackson."

Daniel stopped in his tracks, fixing Teal'c with a pleading stare.

"Nor will it help us to save JonasQuinn."

"What if Jonas doesn't need saving, Teal'c?"

"You believe that he must die for this cause?"

"I don't know. I trust him to do what's right." Daniel buried his face in his hands. "I just wish I knew for certain. I wish we could win this war without having to sacrifice him."

Teal'c cocked his head to the side. As much as he wished that JonasQuinn could be saved, and as much as he cared about the man he had known for what seemed like such a short time, they were warriors. He would fight even to his own death to protect his friends, but there were times when you just had to admit that soldiers die. "There are always sacrifices in war, DanielJackson."

DanielJackson heaved a weary sigh. Teal'c could almost feel the anguish radiating from him. He hoped that it was unfounded. Though a rumble at the back of his mind was fast dispensing with that hope. He knew that sound as well as his own breathing. It was the deep humn of a Goa'uld mothership readying to land. He turned his gaze to the pyramid in the distance. A small, at least in his experience, ship descended through the clouds, blowing a great cloud of dust through the streets of the deserted town.

"Oh my God. She's here," DanielJackson breathed.

Teal'c stood swiftly, shouldering his pack and readying his weapon in one seamless motion. "Come, we must make our way back to town."

DanielJackson did not answer him, though Teal'c could read the fear etched into his expressive features as though it were painted in the air.

<<<>>>

Teal'c went into high alert as they approached the town square. There was already a crowd forming there, and he could see a ring of Minerva's personal guard standing atop adjacent buildings. These must be the ones who had stayed hidden in the town last night. He was surprised by their number. There was now a raised platform in the center of the square with a sea of people packed all around. Teal'c pulled the hood of the robe Mat had insisted he take over his head to hide the gold tattoo on his forehead. He could feel DanielJackson trembling behind him as they pushed through the crowd.

JonasQuinn was tied to none other than a life-sized cross an odd metallic instrument attached to his head. He squinted in pain as blood rushed from gapping wounds in his hands. Teal'c heart ached as he felt the familiar tide of anger flowing through his veins. He was quick to harness it and hone it for his purpose. He would remain silent for now, but he would have his revenge on the gold-clad figure with a purple cape that sat regally in an ornate gold chair next to his tortured friend.

Minerva spoke, the deep threatening tones of a Goa'uld oddly softened to a near seductive purr. "Behold your so-called savior. He would have you rise up against your God, forsake yourselves to an eternity of damnation, and a Godless world. Since I have taken your people under my protection, for millennia, you have wanted nothing. Now this ingrate would have you end that for some illusion of freedom. He has no authority in this place, He is nothing but a twisted malcontent."

With that she stood, gold-plated body armor clanking in the hushed awe that descended upon the crowd. She lifted her scepter and touched it to Jonas' heaving chest. Despite his desire to remain calm, Teal'c couldn't help but grind his teeth in a deep growl.

"Who are you?"

"Jonas Quinn of Stargate Command, son of Jesus of Nazareth."

"And who am I?"

"A Goa'uld scientist serving under Anubis." He sputtered through clenched teeth, droplets of red peaking out at the sides of his mouth.

"Wrong answer." She smiled seductively, running a finger down JonasQuinn's cheek. "Too bad Nitri did not live to see what a lovely body she let slip through her fingers." Teal'c looked away from her wicked smile in disgust, focused instead on the pain stick that hovered above much-abused flesh. She turned to the crowd as she shocked him yet again. "See how he suffers. If he were truly the son of a God, he would break all that binds him now and stop this. But he cannot stop me. I am his God and I can be either compassionate or merciless. I have been a compassionate God, but I must protect my people from such blasphemy. You've heard it from his own lips!"

JonasQuinn spit out a great spray of blood as she removed the pain stick, wounds in his hands weeping. "She is false God! You must fight her."

"Well, it seems it is my word against yours. Luckily, I have brought a witness." With that, the crowd close to the platform parted to reveal Isa. Teal'c clenched his fists. He would track down the one that betrayed his friend and kill him.

Isa stepped up onto the platform, eyes apologetic as he kissed JonasQuinn's bloodstained cheek before he turned to face the crowd. "He is not a God. He is a man and a revolutionary sent from a different state. Minerva has given us so much and if we prove ourselves to her she is willing to give us more." Teal'c was too angry to hear the regret in Isa's sigh, the denial in his words. His eyes did not leave the form of Jonas' betrayer as he sank back into the crowd.

Teal'c felt a trebling hand on his shoulder, and looked up to meet MajorCarter's tear-stained eyes. But there was a cold fury there as well, more intense than he had ever seen in her. If that hate had been focused on him, even Teal'c, the mighty warrior, might quail. "We won't let him escape, Teal'c." It was the vow of a warrior, made bound in blood.

In a flurry of motion, Minerva turned away from JonasQuinn to face her audience. "Death is the price for treason. But I am not unreasonable. I leave you with a choice. I offer you a world where you are free to face my wrath or one where I protect you from blasphemers like this one. All in favor of protection?"

Her words were met with a mixed cry of support. Teal'c knew from experience that there were many that would listen and affirm calls for freedom, but few who would sacrifice their own security and the security of loved ones to support it.

JonasQuinn seemed as though, despite all his hopes, he knew this to be true - expected it, even. "You cannot escape me. I will return," he spat.

"We shall see." Minerva smiled, raising a hand covered with the gaudy gold of a hand device. Teal'c practically growled, pushing himself closer, shunting those in front of them in front of him to the side as though they were made of nothing but air. He noticed a similar parting of the crowd off to his left. He could only assume this was O'Neill.

"Jack, no!" Teal'c heard Jonas' shout resounding like crystal above the shouts and mutterings of the discontented masses, and looked up just in time to see Minerva fall in a shower of familiar P-90 fire, her guards grouping around her and around Jonas. Teal'c strained harder against the mayhem that had now broken out around him, people fleeing from the platform, eyes glued to the traitorous form as he attempted to flee the scene, like a hawk circling his pray.

Before Teal'c could get near the platform or his target, however, there was a great flash of light and Minerva, her guards, and the cross upon which JonasQuinn was suspended had all disappeared via ring transport. Teal'c couldn't be bothered, though - his query was still before him, trapped. But the dark mane disappeared beneath the rushing sea of people as Teal'c approached. He let out a near-growl, and pushed the last frantic Golgothans away to reveal the most unexpected scene.

MajorCarter was straddling the monk, hood pulled back to reveal a mop of bright blond hair - so innocent in contrast to the hate in those pale blue eyes and the fact that she held a gun against the man's temple. "Move an inch and no amount of superhuman stength is going to save you." She blew her hair out of her eyes, and twisted the collar of Isa's robes until he was nearly chocking. "Where have they taken him?"

Isa coughed and spluttered.

"MajorCarter, perhaps he would be better able to answer if you were not choking him." If she was surprised that Teal'c was standing behind her, she did not show it, so intent was she on finding the answer to her question.

"Thanks, Teal'c." She didn't sound particularly grateful. In fact, she seemed almost resentful that she had to loosen her hold on her captive.

Isa took in great gasping breaths. "They took him to the temple."

MajorCarter shot Teal'c a glance and he made to follow her unspoken order to try and retrieve their gravely wounded teammate, but Isa interrupted. "You must believe me. I don't want to see JonasQuinn die anymore than you do."

"That's why you betrayed him, right?" MajorCarter drove the barrel of her handgun deeper into Isa's temple.

"You don't understand. Jonas is a worthy man. But he is a man. He is not worth sacrificing our people for. Minerva offered me a deal. I had to act in the best interests of my people." Isa was crying now. Teal'c turned away in disgust. The traitor was acting in his own best interests. "Wait!"

Teal'c turned and raised an expectant eyebrow. "If she goes," he gestured to MajorCarter, "and convinces them she is Jonas' widow, the guards must let her pass. It is the law."

"Teal'c." MajorCarter nodded, leaving Teal'c pointing his staff weapon at Isa and sprinting away.

Isa continued to whimper. "Jonas would have you be merciful."

Even though he knew JonasQuinn and DanielJackson would not approve, Teal'c knew a few things about bloodlust and about human nature. He knew that if you allowed self-serving traitors such as this one to live, they would only betray you again. He knew that in the universal laws of duty and honor upon which he operated, he was justified in killing one that had betrayed a friend he swore to protect. He knew that his soul would not be able to rest as long as this traitor lived. JonasQuinn had preached compassion, but Teal'c remembered a quote from this Bible DanielJackson spoke of: "An eye for an eye."

Isa's neck made the most satisfying sound when it snapped.

15. Daniel

Daniel made to follow the rest of the jostling crowd out of the square and toward the desert encampment. He was just making his way out of the city-center when a rough hand clamped down on his shoulder. He recognized the firm grip almost immediately. "Jack," he whispered.

"Daniel." Though Jack O'Neill wasn't always a man of few words, he was always able to convey his displeasure with a single one.

"You shouldn't have done that." Daniel refused to turn and face him. He was already tetering on the edge of doubt. The last thing he needed was Jack O'Neill's accusatory glare.

"I was trying to save his life, Daniel. He's a member of my team and my friend. There's no need for him to die for this revolution. They saw Minerva bleed. Now they know she's not a God."

"He asked you to stop." This was the first betrayal. "After all you've seen, Jack, how can you deny that there is truth to myth? How can you say that it's just a story when we live it every day?"

"Because history controls myths not the other way around, Daniel. Nothing's written. Even if fighting the Goa'uld is pointless, even if Jonas really is destined to die a martyr, I can't just sit back and do nothing." Tears kissed his cheeks, "Maybe it's my destiny or just who I am, but I have fight. I have to try to stop tragedy in this world, or die trying."

Daniel was thrust crudely against Jack, whom the rest of the crowd seemed to be avoiding. Jack was quick to steady him and quicker to push him away, looking at him expectantly.

"If you have something to say, why don't you say it?" Daniel pouted, as they left the city limits, practically shouting so they could hear each other, between the panicked yells of those around them.

"You're the Rock, Daniel, and not the one who beats people over the head with chairs and fights mummies wearing a loincloth, either. Tell them that their king, the Messiah, commands they fight. With an army of super soldiers on our side, we can win this war."

Daniel sighed. "You know I can't do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Remember when Satan tempted Jesus in the wilderness. He showed him the world and offered him rule over it. He refused, because of what it means to have faith. People need to choose their paths in life. Being good is meaningless if it's done by coercion. Anubis literally is Satan. You know, the fallen angel?"

Jack scowled. Somehow, Jack thinking and Jack in pain looked remarkably similar. "Well let's offer them something then. Food? Medicine? Pretty beads? A Naquadah reactor? A ticket to heaven?" Daniel was reminded of the days when Jack insisted that their only purpose was to get technology to fight the Goa'uld, regardless of the immoralities they had to commit to gain it. He had been tested with the NID shadow group that stole the touchstone and the people waging war for the sake of ethnic cleansing. After that ... Daniel thought he had some effect on Jack. Perhaps he was mistaken.

"Jack, that's also known as the second temptation of Christ and probably the root of the Spanish Inquisition, the missionary destruction of Native American culture, and plenary indulgences. And, yes, Jack, those are all bad things."

"Oh. Well I don't give a rat's ass about Christ. If they don't fight, we're going to lose this war and they'll become hosts."

"We can't make them fight if they don't want to, Jack. They were happy." But how much was happiness worth? Daniel didn't know anymore. He had been happy before he descended - at least he thought he had. But that had been his choice. These people had to choose to fight, otherwise it was a meaningless fight.

"They're being used by Anubis, Daniel. Just like Shar'ae was used, just as Ska'ra was used, just like I was used, just like all those Jaffa camped out at the Alpha Site were used."

"The Jaffa choose rebellion, Jack. These people have the right to be happy. If they fight they will die. We don't have the right to force them to die."

"In case you haven't noticed, Daniel, we're at war! It's the battle between Good and Evil and Satan is winning. Sometimes you have to make some compromises. What right do these people have to their happiness if because of it the entire galaxy has to suffer under Anubis? These aren't just people Daniel. They're nice now, but they're going to turn into killing machines soon. You've killed Jaffa, Daniel. This is no different. These people are either with us or they're against us, and if they're against I have no problem sentencing them to death."

"Listen to yourself, Jack!" Daniel could see the doubt in his friends eyes, just before it was drowned by Jack's unique brand of dutiful stubbornness. This man had withstood torture with nothing more than his determination an his wit, what chance did he have of convincing him with that stubborn glint in his eye?

"Someone's got to make the tough choices, Daniel. I'm choosing the freedom of the galaxy."

"Even if it means taking theirs?"

"It's a small price to pay. Now let's fight."

"What happened to turning the other cheek?"

"This isn't some biblical story, Daniel. This is reality. Jesus would be with me on this one, and Jonas is too. He wants to see the Goa'uld dead as much as you or me. Now tell them that it is the will of the Son of God that they fight and they will be rewarded in the after life, etc."

"If I go up there and say that then we will have become no better than the Goa'uld, using people and masquerading as Gods. Are you willing to win the war at the cost of your own integrity?" Who care who wins a war between Evil and Evil, after all?

"Like I said, Daniel, small price."

"You will be abusing Jonas' memory." Daniel choked out the last protest as they arrived at the small dune atop which Jonas had given his last sermon, the pure blue of the sky against the dunes just serving to remind him how much beauty there was in this universe to be preserved.

"I will not. He'll tell you so himself when he gets back. I don't have anymore time to bicker, Daniel. Tell them, that's an order." Jack turned to go, leaving Daniel free to approach the dune to speak. He was no Messiah, but perhaps he was a Peter.

"May God forgive you, Jack." Daniel whispered, watching the retreating figure, standing tall as he disappeared into the crowd, exuding some sort of maniacal energy that caused those near him to give him a slightly wider birth. "That's the second time you've betrayed him."

16. Sam

Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had seen hundreds of bodies and a fair amount of blood in her time and she never let it get to her before. She was an officer in the USAF, after all. She could do this.

She took a step forward and opened her eyes. She couldn't even begin to stifle the sob as it rose inevitably in her throat. It was worse than she'd dreaded. She couldn't see his face, but she imagined those young features contorted into a mask of pain, a perversion of the man she had gown to know and love. There was so much blood, covering the dusty red of the floor with a brilliant shade of crimson ... and the pure white of the sheet with the blood spreading on it. Her hand shook as she reached out to touch ... wait, blood spreading ... She could hope, couldn't she?

Sam stripped the sheet away to discover a perfectly prone figure, heart catching in her chest as she saw the look of concentration on his features - the look that said that he would keep trudging on always. He wasn't breathing. But the wounds continued to bleed. She touched her fingers gently to his neck. There was a pulse! It was faint, but undeniable. She remembered when they were trapped on the crashed mothership. Jonas could go a hell of a long time without breathing, thank God.

Her first aid training took over as she rolled Jonas onto his back and leaned down to begin mouth to mouth. Her thoughts spiraled. She could to this, even though she was weak in the knees choking back tears. Why? Maybe because it was Jonas. She couldn't help but think of him as her baby boy. She knew he was only a few years younger than her, but he had that childish wonder about him, always tugging at her sleeve like a six-year-old in a candy shop. And someone had tried to take that innocence and wonder away. He trusted too much - believed too much in the goodness of humanity, even facing all the evil in life day by day. They had tried to protect him from it, from his own unconditional love, but they had failed so drastically.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed the bloody hand resting reassuringly on her cheek, blood mixing with her tears to form a warm red soup, a testament to what it was to be alive: it was suffering, but vivid and vital suffering.

"Everything's going to be fine, Sam." His voice was barely a whisper.

"Jonas!" She exclaimed, grabbing him and holding him tight, even as he exhaled sharply from the pain. "We thought you were... . We couldn't afford to lose you." She tore a slice of the sheet and began wrapping it around the gapping wound on his palm. She pressed the transmit button on her radio quickly. "Colonel. Jonas is alive. We need to get him back to the Stargate."

His smile was weak, but illuminating. The same trust and joy that she had been decrying earlier appeared now, comforting her. She was awash in his vision. Yes, everything would be all right. They would go through the Stargate and things would go back to normal: talking in the science lab, beating burly Airforce men at pool, exchanging knowing glances at Jack's latest intellectual faux paus, exploring strange worlds, and all with that bright smile by her side.

"Sam, you need to listen to me very carefully," he coughed.

She snapped back to the present. "We need to get you back through the gate."

"No, Sam, you need to get out of here. There's very little time."

"We'll go through the gate right now. I can drag you the ring platform."

"No. Sam, you're going through that gate. In ten minutes and thirty seven seconds it will all be over." Why did he have to be so goddamn noble? They could make it back to the gate. Ten minutes and thirty seven seconds was plenty of time ... . How did he know exactly?

"Jonas, what's happening in ten minutes?"

"Thoth is trying to take me as his new host."

"That's why we have to go!" She began dragging him toward the ring platform, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

"Listen." She felt herself coming apart inside. His voice was quiet but commanding. She couldn't help but slow her step. "This ends in ten minutes." He grabbed her hand, blood gushing from his wound as he did so. His features were set, not even a ghost of a wince touched them. He guided her hand to his stomach, just to the right of his naval.

"Jonas?"

"Nitri stole all of her ideas from my people." His hand was pressing hers down, until it touched something hard - a lump, not muscle.

"Oh my God," she breathed. It was a bomb, just like the one Nitri implanted in Cassandra. "You control it?"

He nodded. "I am responsible for the sins of mankind. They live within me," he managed to say before losing consciousness.

"Jonas?!" she cried. She would not lose him, not like she lost Daniel. She had been with him like this, talking to him when they both knew the end was near. She'd had closure, but it still tore her apart from the inside out and she'd be damned if she'd go through it again. She needed, even more than Jonas, to believe that there was goodness in the world. She could feel it ebbing away, day by day. The military had toughened her heart, forced her emotions far beneath the surface. They had dulled her fear, her pain at seeing the inevitable suffering of the world. Hell, they'd even regulated her love, but they couldn't have joy. They couldn't take the wonder of their mission away, even though it got duller and duller each day. Even though she numbed to the many amazing this before her eyes, joy and exhilaration lurked just out of view, waiting to be summoned. Jonas had reminded her of the wonder in life, that even though goodness was ebbing day by day, it was something worth fighting for - worth dying for. She would fight to keep Jonas' faith and his love in the world, even if she had to die doing it.

Samantha Carter drew her knife. "I'm sorry, Jonas," she whispered. He wouldn't get to sacrifice himself today. The blade swung down into the soft flesh of his stomach, harvesting the power that lurked there.

She transmitted one last message over the radio, jumping into the circle just as a set of rings descended from the ceiling, holding fast to her precious bundle. That small lump of flesh, anointed with blood and a pinch of the one element in all the universe that found its home at the root of evil, held her fate and the fate of the galaxy wrapped up in its macabre depths.

17. Jack

Jack O'Neill stopped dead in his tracks. That melodic voice struck him once again, warming a heart grown hard with war and anger and ripping it from its resting place deep within his chest in the very same sentence. "I'm delivering a bomb to Thoth's ship, Carter out."

He didn't know how many seconds he stood there, stricken, his mouth gaping, before responding. "Carter, hold you position. Come in Carter. Goddamnit, Sam, you are going to wait. It's a suicide mission!"

He dropped all pretences of blending with the crowd, breaking into a run. He knocked several merchants in the bazaar over, fighting against the tide fleeing town to hear Daniel give what he hoped would be a good speech. Some kid crashed against him, spilling an armful of strangely shaped melons onto his feet, where they broke open and spilled dark purple juice over the white of his robe. "Ouch!" he swore.

Jack could see the entrance to the pyramid looming before him, two guards standing before it. He still couldn't believe them all wearing the outfits of Roman Centurions. He really felt as though he were back in Biblical times. He approached the nearest one casually, trying to hide the conspicuous melon stains by giving the guard the old stare-down. "I demand to see the body."

"And you are?" the guard asked incredulously.

Swallow your pride, Jack. "His father."

The guard scanned him from head to foot, skeptically. Jack made his best attempt to look innocent, though he had a feeling that it came out rather foolish and slightly cross-eyed. "I don't believe you." The guard scowled, returning Jack's stare with newly ignited fury.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said I was his widow, would you?" Jack didn't give him time enough to respond, zatting him from the hip at close range. The humane use of a zat was a waste, however, for the second soldier caught him with a staff weapon blast as Jack used him as a human shield. You win some. You lose some.

He dove behind a large boulder near the cave mouth, just missing a shot in the chest by a few seconds. The second guard wasn't nearly as lucky. Jack reached down to grab the force field doohicky from the guard's wrist. "At least I still look too young to be Jonas' father," he muttered as he stepped directly through the projection of a rock obscuring the entrance. That was interesting. I have super powers too.

"Shit." His voice reverberated around the walls of the temple as he cursed. He ran down the long corridor as fast as he could.

Jonas was lying unconscious a few feet from the ring platform, with two toga clad Jaffa standing near him. They were having an argument, probably bickering over what was clearly a lapse in burial procedure. Jack did hesitate to zat the first one he saw. He didn't even think about the firing he did. He was too preoccupied with what must have happened to Carter if there was a group of Jaffa here arguing. She'll be okay. She escaped to the ship. She's doing her thing as we speak. Doing what thing? Getting killed, tortured, snakeheaded, shot at ... Shut up. He really did need to get control of those thoughts of his.

The second guard was still firing at him. Damn. He executed a crude by effective barrel roll, narrowly missing to staff blasts and shot to his feet, knees screaming in protest. A well-aimed bolt of energy eliminated the threat. For now. Why was he so skeptical? Oh yeah, the military. Shoot first, ask questions later ... no wonder he'd lost faith in happy endings.

Speaking of unhappy endings ... Jonas. The kid was losing enough blood to bankrupt the Red Cross. There were the cuts on his hands, a lot less pretty than all those stained glass windows, the bruising beginning to develop on his temples from that ESP inhibition device, but that wasn't all. There was a gash on his side, a wad of cloth stuffed hastily into the wound. He didn't remember that in the Bible - though he did remember something about a spear . . . . But he didn't need to know where it came from to know that this spelled trouble.

Jonas appeared to be breathing -though shallowly- and his pulse was extraordinarily slow. Was that normal for the Kelownan? He didn't know, but he did know one thing: If he didn't get him back through the Stargate right away, Jonas was going to die. Even if he did get back, things weren't looking good.

Jack hoisted the body ... no, the man ... onto this shoulder, trying to shift his weight to further the damage as little as possible and drenching himself in blood. His body cried out in protest. He was definitely getting too old for this.

Jack couldn't help but feel that all of the white marble statues, scattered throughout the temple, solitary as ghosts, were staring at him, blank white eyes boring through the many walls he had constructed around his true emotions, his true state of panic and desperation. They could see how weak he was, and they judged him for it. It unnerved him. He needed to do the right thing, even if it meant betraying the whole death-wish martyr thing his friends were becoming increasingly infatuated with - at least Jonas and Daniel were.

As he walked slowly toward the circular rings in the floor, his determination stalled, as shiver raking the battlements of his inner strength; she flashed into his mind. Taking Jonas home meant leaving Sam. She could be in danger; she could be caught; she could be in desperate need of his help. But she was a military officer, and a good one at that, and so was he. So it was his duty to ensure the safety of his team, his entire team, and that meant taking care of those in need - and Jonas was definitely in need.

Still, he paused over the ring control. Jonas probably wouldn't make it; he should focus on members of his team that he could save. But ringing to the ship might only alert them to Sam's presence. He still didn't like her being up there with no one to watch out for her, -without him there to protect her. Jonas was the Messiah, but Sam was his ... his what? Sam was Sam.

As if he had heard his internal dilemma and was determined to make the choice even harder, Jonas awoke to give a whisper so faint that he couldn't tell whether he heard it with his ears or in his mind, echoing from his shoulder like the angel of conscience sitting there, "You let Daniel go ... let me."

That did it. He pressed the button.

18. Daniel

"Jesus Christ!" Daniel yelled when Teal'c placed a large hand on his shoulder.

"On this planet I believe it would be more appropriate to say, 'Jonas Quinn!'"

"Thank you, Teal'c. And I thought I was the linguistics expert."

"You are welcome, DanielJackson."

"Look, Teal'c, could you please not sneak up on me like that again?"

"I will attempt not to, DanielJackson."

"Thanks."

"Teal'c, Jack wants me to give a speech and tell these people that Jonas is their God and will promise them eternal life and freedom from suffering and a whole host of good things if they agree to fight against Minerva."

Teal'c seemed to frown. "I do not believe that was JonasQuinn's intention."

"I know, Teal'c. I trust Jonas. I have faith in him. But Jack's right. We're at war." And, 'all's fair ...'

"If we do not allow them the freedom to choose, we are no different than Minerva."

"I know that too, but they will be worse of if Minerva finishes her experiments."

"It is up to you DanielJackson."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Daniel sighed. Why couldn't his tests of faith, effect less people? God, help me.

With that thought, he found his breath slowing. His heartbeat echoed in his ears like the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore. And he was there again, looking out across the regal purple sea.

"For someone so young ... You have a beautiful soul, Daniel." The voice caressed him, buoyed him up on angel's wings until he felt light as a feather, floating above all the concerns of the world.

Daniel did not rip his eyes from the horizon, though he felt a pressure - a warm breath on his shoulder. "How can you say that when I don't even have the strength to believe? I want so badly to follow ... but I have to think of the greater good."

"How can you think of the greater good in a form so flimsy?" The voice chuckled, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. "You and I were blessed with divine foresight, and still we could not judge what was best. Our kind have destroyed worlds trying to protect people we saw as being good."

Daniel felt the tears running down his cheek, liberating. Sometimes all he needed was to cry - to acknowledge the suffering of the world. Sometimes the universe needed someone to cry for its injustices. He felt a warmth spreading up and down his arms, finally turning to face the being that had been at the back of his mind since his descension, watching over him.

The warm brown eyes bore into him, a compassion as deep as the vast amethyst sea lurking there - and love, unconditional. He was wearing the familiar monk's robes of sandy grey, and his skin almost glowed white, as though barely containing a light so bright that it would be blinding, uninhibited. He reached out a hand to dry the tears from Daniel's cheek, like the soft gust of a hot summer's wind. "There was a time when we shared our sadness."

"But I gave it up." Daniel looked down at the gentle gray sand, embarrassed. How could he sacrifice a love like this? He felt as though he were about to burst. It was a bittersweet happiness, but he knew that in sharing their pain, they had healed each other.

"You still had work to do in the mortal coil. I have never blamed you." Daniel reached out to touch that soft skin, to penetrate through to the light that would scald him now. He remembered days when they had shared their light, when he had walked with Christ. But he was repelled - it was like opposite magnets, unable to touch, not like the painful sting of a force-shield. "You mustn't, Daniel." He saw a touch of sadness in those bright eyes. "I waited millennia for a love like yours, I can wait until your work is finished. You have much important work to do."

Then he felt the peace slipping from him, like the inevitable ebbing of the tide. Daniel reached out with every tendril of consciousness - every atom of his fragile form. He knew this was goodbye, though his love would always be there to watch over him and listen. "No!" He pleaded. He wanted to stay in this comfortable space forever.

"I love you, Daniel Jackson."

"I love you too," Daniel whispered as reality returned in a flood of harsh shouts and bright sunlight.

"Excuse me?" Teal'c was staring at him, eyebrow raised.

"I'm ready." Daniel smiled, quick to cover the sorrow of their parting. He knew his love heard his response. With that he ascended the burning sand of the dune, without stumbling. Daniel had never felt as home anywhere on Earth than in the desert. He raised his hands and the crowd quieted, even down to the last pleading wail.

"I wish I could tell you that all you have to do is believe, and your suffering will end. I wish I could promise you that we will win this war. Yes, it's a war. I wish I could promise you eternal happiness. But I can't. There are few things I can say with certainty: I can tell you that Minerva is a false god, as you saw with your own eyes. She can be defeated, and must be. Minerva will use you, and your bodies to fight on the side of evil. She works for Cerberus."

There were gasps and whispers traveling through the vast multitude of people before him.

"But it is not just your own souls at stake. She will use you to take the freedom and happiness and security away from others like you. There are hundreds of worlds filled with life, and Minerva will use you to control them.

"I wish I could tell you that Jonas Quinn is a god - that he will step in to save you. But Jonas is just a man."

Another gasp.

"He is a man with the powers of something higher. And he will fight on your side when he returns. But, no matter what His powers, God cannot intervene. This is our fight, our test, our cross. We must fight Minerva, for our souls and the billions of other souls out there that deserve the same freedoms as we do. Jonas believe we will win. He staked his life upon it. I believe we can win. Do you?"

19. Janet

Dr. Janet Frasier looked nervously at her watch. It had been nearly ten hours since Colonel O'Neill had come pelting through the gate with Jonas hoisted over his shoulders. There had been so much blood, Janet had assumed they were both wounded. Of course, the second she went to examine him, Jack had slapped her hands away.

In fact, the second Jonas was loaded onto a gurney, General Hammond had to practically order the gateroom SFs to restrain the colonel to keep him from going back through the gate. He kept screaming about Sam, and how she was stranded on a Goa'uld mothership.

Only General Hammond's well reasoned argument that they didn't want to make the gate busy in case she was in trouble and needed to dial home, had kept Jack calm - well, relatively calm, considering the love of his life was in mortal peril.

Janet had known about the attraction for a long time, but she was still unsure they were truly 'in love.' You nearly died in someone's arms so many times, you saved their life and had them save yours, you spent so much time together you could predict the other's response ... well, it was easy to get your souls kind of intermingled. But, then again, what was love, if not the desire to put someone else's life before your own.

Maybe one day, we'll be able to say that about all human beings ... but that day would be long in coming.

She sighed. She was exhausted. A five hour surgery trying to keep Jonas alive, with the colonel poking his head in whenever he took a break from sitting in the Gateroom, still bloodied, waiting for Sam to get back.

Sam had returned at hour six, having spent a great deal of time hiding and waiting for the battle raging around the Stargate to calm. She had a nasty burn on her left arm where a staff-blast had just grazed her,forearm but she was fine. Of course, the second Janet had released her, she and a finally-clean colonel had returned to the Gateroom to wait for Teal'c and Daniel.

Janet had seen the shell-shocked look in Sam's eyes, the way her hands shook, the way Jack purposely avoided asking questions about the situation on the other side of the gate. The battle was bad. She supposed it had to be, if the fighters were all super soldier quality. Sam hadn't even gotten involved, even after killing Minerva. How were Daniel and Teal'c supposed to survive that?

Janet turned from her thoughts back to her patient. Jonas was still critical, but she was confident that glass-is-half-full Quinn would pull through. His vitals were steady, and he had a slight smile on his face. Janet ruffled his soft brown hair. "We need you, Jonas," she said warmly. "You have a lot of people praying for you." Already, half the base had stopped by to wish Jonas well. It wasn't just the ladies either. Everyone appreciated Jonas' infectious enthusiasm and the way he was always there to listen and empathize with any problems. Janet herself had spoken with him about Cassey on numerous occasions. He just had to survive.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes, writing them off as exhaustion. She decided to lie down on the bed next to Jonas. There was no way she was leaving now. Cassey would gladly microwave herself dinner if she knew who Janet was staying for. Janet suspected that her adopted daughter had developed a bit of a crush on Mr. Quinn. Like half my nursing staff.

She had just closed her eyes when the alarm klaxons went off. "Unscheduled off-world activation." Just my luck. But she wasn't really complaining. If it was Daniel and Teal'c ... she would gladly trade her shut-eye to have them back safe and sound.

Cursing her short legs, Janet arrived in the Gateroom just in time to see Daniel hurtle through, a large gash above his right eye (sutures) and a bruise developing on his right cheek. Teal'c seemed to be limping a little, but they seemed relatively unharmed.

After Jack and Sam finished hugging Daniel and nodding to Teal'c, Janet stepped up.

"Daniel, Teal'c, how did you manage to come back with only a few bruises? From what the Colonel tells me, you were in the middle of the battle of the century."

Daniel just winked. "Miracles." Janet didn't know Daniel was the religious type. He'd debunked most of the major world religions as acts of alien interlopers, after all. Even Christianity did not remain unscathed.

"I don't know if I believe in miracles, Daniel. I'm going to have to check you out nonetheless. Now let's get started with a ..." She tugged on his arm to lead him back toward the infirmary, motioning for Teal'c to follow.

"Janet."

"Yes?"

"You're hoping if you keep talking I won't ask." He fixed her with a stare so full of pain that she couldn't resist him.

She sighed. "I'm afraid it's a waiting game from here on out. We did all we could. I'm amazed he even managed to survive. He lost so much blood, we barely had enough of his in storage to compensate."

"Is that a miracle, Doctor?" Janet wasn't sure. Even before she came to work at the SGC, Janet's faith had been pretty fallen. Most of what she had seen since she came here could have been misconstrued as miracles. The Ancients weren't Gods, yet they could intervene just like in the Bible. Maybe there were acts of God, without an actual God. Or maybe one was waiting out there beyond all of the aliens with superhuman powers. But who was she to say that these powerful beings weren't gods? Did gods have to be anything more than omnipotent beings? She truly didn't know.

"The jury's still out on this one. Just let me tend to the two of you and then you can go see him." Lack of proof, however, wouldn't stop her from praying. She would pray that Jonas would survive to charm the nurses another day.

20. Daniel

Daniel could almost feel the pain in his own heart - the bond between them was almost tangible now. What he had felt the first time they met, that unshakable feeling that their fates were somehow intertwined, had grown into a life-debt and then into a deep friendship had expanded until it devoured his entire universe. He was devoted to Jonas and his cause, bound for an eternity.

He finally understood the devotion of the disciples, those for whom Jesus was a living breathing reality, not just a set of maximums to be saved by. They had lost a friend, and frenzied and confused by the loss of a beloved leader, racked with fear of the government that had just executed their hero, they couldn't but help do what they did. He, too, had felt the overwhelming guilt, the self-loathing that came with doubting, if only for a moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thought, to entrench himself firmly in the present, away from the memories of fleeting bliss, of undiluted strength, in its purest form.

Still, the steady beeping of the heart monitor invaded his sanctuary, reminding him of the rhythm of the waves as they crashed against that great shore, or the comfort of another heartbeat intertwining with his own.

Deep in the middle of the night, when he wasn't sure whether or not he slept or dreamt, though it barely mattered for them, he had been compelled to reach out to smooth the hair on Jonas' sweat-soaked forehead, to try and calm the nightmares that raked his body, throwing him against the bounds of bandages and life support tubes. Daniel had regretted it.

The second skin met skin, a thousand screams invaded his head, a thousand prayers whispered desperately into the din, a thousand hearts quickened in fear, the beat almost deafening. But beneath the calamity, he could still feel the overwhelming abyss of longing, as it reverberated in his own sympathetic soul, in every atom of this estranged corpse, dragging the memories from the depths. And he knew why he had chosen to forget. The pain of being ripped from the bosom of love that made up their community, all the bounds and connections flowing from being to being suddenly torn away. The departure from the easy path, and perhaps the right one - the loss of that great driving force of destiny, a shattering pain in every step. They were both ghosts, doomed to forever haunt this strange land of flesh and death, perhaps as punishment, but no punishment was so great. No, it was a sacrifice, as voluntary and as necessary as the choice of any true martyr. Still, he wondered why he had been cursed with such compassion as to carry this burden.

He had withdrawn his hand in fear and reverence at Jonas' ability to suffer such pain and survive. Now he felt a familiar presence tug at his consciousness, bringing him back to the waking life and the present moment.

"Daniel?" His voice was barely a whisper, choked by the forest of tubes and wires that seemed to grow around him, threatening to burry him alive.

"I'm here, Jonas." He wanted to reach out to squeeze his hand, but Jonas' hands were both heavily bandaged, so he had to settle for laying a hand lightly on his shoulder. The touch was reassuring none-the-less - for Daniel at least. He's still here. He hasn't left me. There are some things in this world that you can put your faith in.

"Sam?"

"She made it."

"The Golgathans?"

"They took heavy loses battling Thoth's Jaffa, but they are going to fight on our side."

"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you Daniel." His smile was weak but utterly warming. Even the oppressiveness of this deep damp underground, the stench of death and ailment of this place, the bruising of his boyish features, his inner light was overwhelming. He had so much faith in everything. The reward of that smile was better than anything ... well, almost anything. Daniel felt the smile reflecting in his own lips, intensifying and multiplying through the dank space until it was full.

"You did it. I only did what I did because I was true to you."

"But you still chose to be true to me, and that means a lot. You were my rock."

"Ahhh, I'm your rock. You see, Jack and I were wondering which one of us was your Peter. I was your successor, but he was the one to deny you 3 times."

"Don't understand." He coughed, wincing.

"It's high time you read the Bible. And it looks as though you're gonna have some free time coming up."

"If I can get someone to turn pages for me." He indicated his hands.

"I'll do better. I'll read it to you. Maybe even in the original language, if you behave."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Besides, after all we've been through, we deserve a break. It might be mythology, but at least it's not archaeology. Family history makes it personal, after all."

Jonas chuckled. "You're good at distracting me from the future, Daniel."

"Hey, that's what we archaeologists are for."

"Is that what this Peter does in the Bible?"

"Peter carries the torch after the crucifixion. He founds the Church to preserve Jesus' teachings. Jack was hoping that he wouldn't have to do that. He claims that he and organized religion don't mix. I told him that the military is organized religion, though he still insists that I'm the religion expert."

"But you are both Peter. Every single person who witnessed the events on Golgotha or has read the reports or has heard of this Bible of yours is Peter. We all have the duty to carry the torch, to spread the name of goodness before it comes time to fight."

Daniel tried to make light of it. "Jack's not going to be happy with that one." His playfulness withered in the faces of the sincerity shining forth from those brilliant green eyes. Jonas truly believed that they could resist, and he guessed that he believed too. But he could see the wistfulness in those eyes, the sorrow that he was missing something, and he felt it in his own heart too. They both gave up ascension,: power, knowledge, what might be a greater ability to fight, destiny, love, community. They both gave up so much. "Tell me we made the right choice." He didn't have to say which choice he meant, for they both felt it in the bound of sorrow between them, the all-consuming weight of the flesh, still so unnatural.

"We did the right thing. I spoke to my father one last time, before he returns. And he is coming, Daniel. I said that I wanted to die. I was ready to let go, but he said he would return and when he did we would fight side by side against the forces of evil. And that day would be the day of judgment, when every conscious being in this corner of the universe from humans to Goa'uld to the undead will have to choose sides, weighted by all the experiences of their lifetimes, and make the ultimate choice: will they fight on the side of good or evil?"

"Good will triumph."

"How do you know? Anubis is strong. He has the power of the Ancients on his side."

Their eyes met, both knowing the answer before it was spoken. The two men smiled, bemused grins adding just a small token of hope to the universe, but it might be just enough. Daniel felt the word welling up from within him, from every atom in the universe trying to fight against the trend toward destruction, trying desperately to love its neighbor, despite the void that would always remain between them. The voice of the world flew from his lips, free at last from that desperate cage of his heart. "I have faith."

-FIN-