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 My Friend, Danny

Two weeks had passed. The newcomers were settling in, although they still found themselves overwhelmed by some tidbit of information on an almost daily basis.

It was pure serendipity that Mike and Bernie boarded the bus that would take them to the entrance of Cheyenne Mountain just behind Daniel and Casey.

"So, let’s see…this is your third Tuesday here. I take it you’ve decided to stay?" Daniel asked, only half joking.

"For now," Mike replied honestly.

"Fair enough," Daniel nodded.

"Have you thought about looking for a house or apartment?" Casey asked.

Bernie glanced at Mike, who shrugged slightly. "Not yet. We’ve talked about it…a bit. There’s just so much here to take in, that it just…" Her voice trailed off.

Casey tipped her head sideways. "When you know…in your heart…that it’s right, that you’re meant to be here, you can start looking."

Mike took note that Daniel was nodding his agreement. "You’re not upset that we’re a little…um…"

"Hesitant? In over your head? Wondering if you’ve taken leave of your senses?" Daniel asked, a smile on his face.

"I take it you’ve heard those things before?"

"Everyone…well, every civilian scientist…who comes into the SGC has the same worries. It takes time to adjust. Not just to knowing about the SGC and the Stargate, but in what that knowledge entails," Daniel said gently. "I don’t expect anyone to jump right in and feel comfortable."

"Good," Bernie exclaimed. "I understand about the training. I’m just not comfortable with it."

"That’s okay. One day, hopefully soon, everything will ‘click’. You may never be comfortable having to maintain your weapons certificate. But you’ll be able to do it."

"Are we going to be expected to carry weapons?" Mike asked.

Daniel emphatically shook his head. "No. You’ll never go off-world without at least one SG-team. If any ruins you’re examining are large enough, there might be two or even three teams with you. They will carry the weapons. They will be responsible for your safety. But…if things go tits up, your ability to fire a weapon and be able to hit your target might save you and whoever is beside you, whether that’s a Marine or SF or another archaeologist."

Mike nodded. "Okay. I can accept that."

"Why the hand-to-hand combat training?" Bernie asked.

Casey shuddered slightly. She smiled when Daniel wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"If things ever go really tits up, and you have to fight a hand-to-hand battle to get back to the Stargate and home, you need to be prepared to do that," Daniel replied.

"Has that ever happened?"

"No. At least not to any group that wasn’t an SG team."

"Let’s just hope it stays that way," Bernie said quietly.

"Amen," Casey agreed softly.

Daniel glanced at Casey. She lowered her gaze. He barely kept his smile from breaking through. Oh, he was certain that Mike and Bernie would willingly kick his ass for what he was about to spring on them. But hopefully, by the time they were physically able to do so, they would have come to understand the need for the specialized training. He cleared his throat, then looked from Mike to Bernie and back again. "Have you met Major Ferretti?"

"Just in passing," Mike replied.

"Well, you’re going to be going off-world with him today."

"Are you serious?" Bernie gasped.

"Yep."

"Why?" Mike asked suspiciously. He noted that although Casey was at least looking at him now, she was biting her lower lip. He’d already learned that it was a habit she had when she was worried about something.

"Just a bit of training," Daniel said.

Casey barely bit back a snort, managed to pretend to sneeze.

"Bless," Daniel said immediately.

"Thank you.," Casey smiled. She was actually smiling far too much for it to be a response to such a simple gesture. 

But Mike and Bernie both missed her ‘almost grin’, as both were still dealing with the idea of actually going through the Stargate. To another planet.

"We’ll get you geared up," Daniel told the two archaeologists.

"How geared up?" Mike wasn’t even trying to hide his frown, nor his growing unease.

"Just a spare uniform, some MREs and bottled water, a first aid kit," Daniel shrugged.

Now Bernie was frowning. "Will this be the ‘active shooter’ training we’ve heard about?"

"Yep." The reply was short, although not terse.

Again, Casey struggled to remain quiet. She pushed her face against Daniel’s shoulder.

"Allergies, Angel?" he asked.

"Must be," the seer responded. Grateful that the two new archaeologists had no idea about immortality, and the fact that immortals didn’t suffer from allergies. What they were dealing with at the moment was more than enough to have their heads spinning. To learn that several people within the concrete walls of the SGC were immortal was a ‘little’ detail that could cause their heads to explode!

Mike and Bernie remained silent on the ride to level eleven, although they continued to steal glances at the couple beside them. Who were now engaged in a discussion about the translation of a recently discovered tablet. As if they hadn’t just told the newcomers that they were going off-world. Where they would be – if rumors were true – shot at.

Once signed in, Daniel explained that each time they were to be sent on an ‘archaeological mission’, they would need to be geared up like the SG team that would escort them. The only difference was that they wouldn’t be expected to carry weapons. If they wanted to carry a 9mm, they would be allowed to do so…once they had their certificate in small arms training.

Casey helped Bernie fill a standard canvas backpack with basic necessities, insisting that extra underclothes and socks would be a ‘necessity’. She also added a small bottle of lotion and a box of wet wipes. "You’ll thank me later," she whispered.

When the two newest members of the SGC were completely kitted out, including camouflage boonies to match the BDUs they wore, Daniel led them to the ‘gate room.

"You’ll only be gone a day or so. Your first trip will be a bit disorienting. That’s okay. If it takes a few seconds to get your bearings, don’t panic. Just do what Major Ferretti tells you, and everything will be just fine."

"Right," Mike sighed. He didn’t know what was going on. Not exactly. But his gut was telling him that Daniel wasn’t being as forthcoming about the coming trip as he could have been. He couldn’t remember when the younger archaeologist had ever been so…evasive. Daniel Jackson was usually as forthright as the sun was bright; always full of details and determined to share each and every one.

"We have a meeting to get to," Daniel said, tugging at Casey’s arm. "We’ll be right here to meet you when you get back."

"That’s a promise," Casey added.

Bernie watched as the Jacksons nearly fled from the room. "Should we be worried?"

"Probably." Mike looked around. He and Bernie were the only two people in the room. There were several people in the control room, both military and civilian. He dropped his pack to the floor beside him. Bernie followed suit.

He’d just decided to walk up the ramp and take another, closer look at the Stargate when the inner circle began to move, at the same moment as klaxons began to wail and red lights began to whirl, casting red shadows on the walls. He jumped as hard as Bernie at the sudden racket.

"Security stand down. Routine mission embarkation," echoed from the speakers above their heads.

From one of the corridors outside of the ‘gate room came a group of men. Eight in all. Including the Marine major they’d been introduced to only a day or so earlier. All military, and all armed to the teeth.

Bernie narrowed her eyes. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

Major Lou Ferretti bit back the grin that threatened to spread across his face; instead arranged his features into as menacing a scowl as he could manage. "Civilians. Just what I fuckin’ need."

Mike’s eyebrows rose, and he opened his mouth to let the major know he wasn’t exactly amused, either. He looked down at Bernie when she placed a hand on his arm. While she wasn’t apt to be any more tactful than he felt at the moment, he gave her a small smile and a nod.

"We were told to be here," she said icily.

"Uh huh," Ferretti replied. He shifted the P90 in his hands, watched as chevrons that represented the address to "Hell" lit up, one by one.

Having never seen the Stargate in operation, the two newcomers nearly jumped out of their skins when the event horizon opened. What looked like a huge column of water seemed to explode into the room…sideways…before settling into a swirling blue mass that filled the center of the Stargate. Mike stared at the ‘gate, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Holy Quetzalcoatl!" Bernie whispered.

"Well, don’t just stand there. Grab your gear and let’s go," Ferretti barked. He nodded, and two of the Marines marched up the ramp, only to disappear in that swirling blue event horizon.

"Oh, hell," Mike moaned softly.

"Let’s go," one of the other Marines said gruffly, pointing toward the ramp with the muzzle of his P90.

"You know, Daniel seemed intentionally vague about what we should expect on this little outing," Mike whispered to Bernie.

"I noticed. Casey wouldn’t look at me when I asked her about it," Bernie whispered in reply. "She said that we’d do fine, no one has ever died from the training, and that we should probably rent another hotel room so we can both have a bathtub."

"I’m getting a bad feeling about this," Mike grumbled.

"Join the club," Bernie said.

Mike’s frown deepened. Daniel and Casey had left just before the Marine major had arrived. Not once had the destination, nor what they would be doing, been mentioned. Nor had there been any explanation about the ‘active shooter’ part of the training. The only thing they knew was that this ‘trip’ would conclude the ‘formal’ part of their training. Suspicion, and not just a bit of fear, continued to grow.

The newcomers had been training every day; in the morning with Teal’c to learn hand-to-hand combat, in which Bernie…with her training in karate…excelled. In the afternoons they had been working with Daniel, Casey, and Beth in the shooting range in Warehouse Two, learning to handle both 9 millimeter Berettas and P90s. During their weapons training, a random SG team CO would observe, offer advice, and grade each day’s ‘performance’. While neither were comfortable handling the weapons, both were becoming proficient enough to at least be able to hit the target with the handguns. Not particularly well, but well enough that they’d be able to at least slow down a determined, approaching enemy. In the coming hours, they would come to understand that it was this proficiency that had been the catalyst for their off-world trial. What they didn’t know, (and probably never would,) was that, according to Daniel’s report to General Hammond, they were as ready for this mission as they would ever be.

"Get a move on," Ferretti barked. He pointed up the ramp, at the spinning vortex in the open ‘gate. "Let’s go."

Not given the time to consider what they were doing, or where they were going, the two archaeologists grabbed their packs and hurried up the ramp; after only the briefest moment of hesitation – during which they exchanged a worried glance – they stepped into the event horizon.

After zero-point-three-two seconds, both civilians stumbled down the steps of another Stargate. Still shaking off the cold from their travel through the wormhole, it took a few moments before they started looking around. Mike shook his head. "When we get back, I’m gonna kill that little geek."

Bernie was looking around with nothing short of absolute dread. The sky overhead was dismal gray, filled with at least three layers of clouds, all of which seemed to be swirling rapidly. The air felt damp and sticky. It wasn’t uncomfortably cold, but the temperature wasn’t anywhere near pleasant, either. The Stargate faced a small meadow, filled with as much moss and low-lying shrubs as grass. A forest of scraggly, semi-leafless trees surrounded them. "I’ll hold him down for you," she muttered.

"All right, here’s what you need to know," Ferretti said, watching the two with well hidden amusement. "You are going to find your way in there to the first camp site." He opened his pocket and pulled out what looked like a sandwich bag. "Here’s a map and a compass. Good luck."

"Wait…you aren’t coming with us?" Bernie asked, almost panicked.

"Nope. Surely you two-rock readers wander around in forests and jungles all the time, since you’re trained ark-hay-all-oh-gists," Ferretti replied, intentionally over-enunciating their occupations. He wasn’t quite able to hide his grin. "Just pretend this is one of those digs you rock readers all like so much."

Mike opened the bag and withdrew the map; Bernie looked over his shoulder. It was crudely drawn, with compass bearings written down the side of the slip of paper. At the top, in bold letters, the words ‘Heads up’ had been scrawled. "This isn’t…" he started.

Bernie looked up, and felt a swell of panic in her chest. Ferretti had vanished. She spun around, trying to see where the man could have disappeared to. Several bushes near what looked like a path were swaying slightly.

"Better get started," a voice called, seeming to echo around them. "You want to be in camp before dark. Oh…and one other thing…"

The sound of a gunshot filled the air, and the dirt not more than two feet in front of them exploded.

"You’ll be under fire the whole way."

Mike grimaced. "I am going to kill Daniel Jackson."

"Get in line," Bernie grumbled.

From somewhere, either behind them, or perhaps to their right, came the sound of Ferretti’s laughter.

It had been a long day. Ba’al hadn’t waited for Amaterasu to welcome him. He’d arrogantly ringed into her temple, surrounded by his Jaffa. When the owner of the temple had protested, Ba’al had sneered, and lifted his hand. Within seconds Amaterasu was writhing on the floor, screaming from the pain inflicted by the device glowing so brightly on his hand. Stunned, her Jaffa had fired their staff weapons, only to learn that not only was Ba’al protected by his personal shield, so were those standing beside him. Unfortunately for them, those protected Jaffa cut down the panicked Jaffa.

Standing to one side, also protected by that personal shield, he watched with what he hoped was a neutral expression. He searched through his memories; given who he was, there were many to sort through. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a Goa’uld using the ribbon device against another Goa’uld. At least, not without provocation. To simply ring into a temple on a planet owned by a Goa’uld, and immediately attack…no, that wasn’t done!

In spite of what onlookers often believed, the rules of the Goa’uld Empire were strict; and binding. When there was…discord…among System Lords, arrangements were made for the feuding parties to meet, along with ‘neutral’ observers. Often a feast was involved. During such events the ‘neutral’ Goa’uld would recite the actions of the offending Goa’uld. Then the Goa’uld who claimed to be the victim, added his or her complaints. The offending Goa’uld was then given a chance to state his or her case. Each Goa’uld dancing, metaphorically, around one another. The goal of each, the accused and the accuser: to convince their brethren that they were the injured party. None of those at such a meeting made any overt threats. Any subtle threats were made during the recitation of their own deeds and accomplishments.

It was during those meetings that the most overt actions happened ‘behind the scenes’. Each Goa’uld was certain that their own Jaffa would find all of the hidden information in the computers of the enemy. Each certain that his or her superiority would prevent the enemy from learning anything from their own computers. Days could be spent boasting to one another. For those who were forced by position, from advisors to the lowliest of slaves, the time spent listening to what appeared to be pointless blathering seemed endless.

He snorted softly. Truth never seemed to be included in those ‘discussions’. After numerous meetings, the Goa’uld would return to their own ships. If agreements had been reached, each Goa’uld left the area immediately. If not, taunts and threats were offered, and attacks could – and often did – occur. Usually from the safety of the pel’tak of their ships. It was rare that Goa’uld would attack one another physically; they preferred to let their Jaffa do the actual fighting. But there had been occasions when a slap was administered to a particularly rude or insulting adversary. No, he couldn’t recall a time when a Goa’uld had used a ribbon device on their rival.

This…this was unusual. Very unusual. What made the situation all the more alarming was the fact that most of the Goa’uld believed Ba’al to be dead. He had carefully nurtured that assumption after the attack on his ha’tak, and the planet he had claimed as his new home. The temple and his palace had been nearly completed when that attack took place. It was only due to loyal Jaffa, his sarcophagus, and an escape shuttle that Ba’al had survived that day. It seemed that Ba’al was using the presumption that he was dead to behave in a most unscrupulous manner. It seemed that for this particular Goa’uld, at least for the moment, the rules of the Empire didn’t exist.

Most worrisome, he thought. The fact that he was still among the Goa’uld’s ‘advisors and most trusted servants’ was purely coincidental. Not that he would complain. His position kept him in place to continue to…monitor…the Goa’uld System Lord.

He had been among four others who had been rushed to the hangar bay, and into that shuttle. When Ba’al had risen from the sarcophagus, he’d let it be known that not one of the four were the scientists he had demanded be saved at all costs. The Goa’uld’s wrath had been great, and two of those loyal Jaffa had died that day. It was only the fact that he and the others had been obeying what they believed to be their Lord’s orders that prevented them from dying as well. Two of the scientists had been questioned privately for hours. He was fairly certain they were still alive…Ba’al had sent them to one of his outposts. Why, he hadn’t a clue. The other…a stellar cartographer…had been ordered to find a ‘suitable’ planet to become Ba’al’s new home planet. No doubt he would begin work on a new palace and temple as soon as a location had found. Whether these buildings would actually be finished was anyone’s guess.

His own position as a provisioner…and a very successful one at that…had seen him through that very frightening, trying day. Since then he’d been sent on nearly a dozen searches…the items he sought as troublesome as the behavior of the Goa’uld he served.

Something was horribly wrong. Ba’al’s behavior was hostile at best, savage at worst. If others were to react to this behavior by simply doing the same…oh, this is bad. Really, really bad. Not only would wars between the Goa’uld break out, many innocents could be caught in the crossfire. While individual Goa’uld might attack one another from time to time, or battle over perceived slights…an all out war hadn’t been fought in centuries. The closest had been the latest attack on Ba’al. And that had been as a result of his multiple strikes against the others. He shook his head. Ba’al was angry enough that his attempt to take the First World had been foiled. The appearance of Zeus and Ares had shaken the empire. Changed it. Ba’al took their appearance in the Milky Way galaxy as a direct affront to his superiority. He’d become…unpredictable. And that was a matter that most certainly needed to be addressed.

It took him three hours to arrange to be alone in the laboratory. It took him another thirty minutes to make certain his message wouldn’t be noticed. He alerted those who were in the strongest positions to be able to find a solution to a very perplexing and terrifying problem.

Daniel and Casey were waiting at the bottom of the ramp when the two newest archaeologists stumbled through the ‘gate. Both were filthy, and obviously exhausted.

"After I get a bath and some sleep, I’m going to kill you," Bernie growled in Daniel’s direction.

"Then I’m going to kill you," Mike added gruffly.

Ferretti, who had been right behind them, walked past the complainers and down the ramp. "For two civilian rock-readers, they did pretty well."

Mike perked up. "We did?"

"You’re walking under your own power," Ferretti said, turning sideways to look at them. "This one," he pointed to Casey, "and those with her crawled down the ramp."

Bernie gave a snort. "Don’t look so disappointed, Major," she replied. "It’s sheer damned stubbornness that’s holding me up right now."

"Hey, we were also there for five days," Casey interjected. "Five days. As in…" She turned to Daniel. "Quick, how many hours are in five days?"

Daniel laughed. "More than forty-eight."

Casey nodded. "That’s what I thought." She looked up at Mike and Bernie, who were now smirking at her. "You spend five days in Hell, and then we’ll talk."

Moving slowly, Bernie walked down the ramp. She stopped beside Casey. "I couldn’t have made it for another hour. I’d have just given up, laid down and made them carry me back," she admitted. She winced slightly as she shifted the pack she carried.

"Lean on me," Casey offered, putting her arm around the taller woman. "You’re upright after forty-eight hours in Hell. You have every right to be proud."

Daniel took Mike’s pack, and offered his arm. "When you’ve had a hot shower, a meal, and some sleep, we’ll talk. One of the VIP rooms is ready for you."

"Come on, you’ll need a bit of help," Casey said, leading Bernie toward the door.

Six hours later - after warm showers and a bit of much needed sleep - Bernie and Mike found themselves sitting in the conference room. Daniel and Casey were there, as was Major Ferretti. Bernie shared a look of concern with Mike when General Hammond entered the room.

Major Ferretti jumped to his feet, only a second or so before the Jacksons were standing as well. Already accustomed to the protocol, Mike and Bernie rose as well, although a bit slower, and each winced slightly as sore muscles protested.

"At ease," the general said, settling into his chair. He waited until everyone was again seated before opening the folder in front of him. He glanced at it, then looked up at the major. "It seems that our newest family members have survived Hell."

"Yes, sir. Did pretty good for civilians without a clue," Ferretti replied, tossing a grin at the two ‘survivors’.

General Hammond smiled. "That’s good to hear." He glanced at Daniel and gave a subtle nod.

Daniel looked from Mike to Bernie, then back to Mike. "There’s a reason for what we put you through."

Bernie frowned. "We could actually find ourselves in a situation like that, couldn’t we?"

"If you go off-world, yes," Daniel replied.

Her cheeks going slightly pale, Bernie nodded.

"So far, we’ve been lucky. None of the archaeologists we’ve sent through the ‘gate with SG teams have had any trouble."

"Well, there was the mission where Beth found that cave, and triggered that trap, and we had to blow a hole in the rocks to get her and Lieutenant Bernstein out," Casey said, her green eyes twinkling.

General Hammond snorted, put his fist to his mouth as he pretended to cough. "She still insists that neither she nor the lieutenant tripped any sort of traps."

Daniel chuckled. "I told her I believe her story that the cave wall just suddenly collapsed."

Ferretti chuckled as well. "As I recall, she was madder than a wet hen when we did get them out. She hadn’t finished examining that ‘room’ she and the LT had found."

Mike grinned. "I take it she wasn’t worried about being rescued?"

"Nope," Daniel laughed. "She said she knew that the rest of the team would have them ‘dug out in no time’, as she put it. So she was going to do what she’d gone in there to do…find the rest of the writings that had been referenced by one of the temple walls."

"That is a true and dedicated archaeologist," Bernie said, grinning broadly.

"I don’t think she took the time to be scared," Casey said.

"That," General Hammond said, "was because you’d already predicted a bit of ‘excitement’, but nothing to worry about."

Mike and Bernie looked at Casey. They had attended half a dozen team briefings at Daniel’s insistence, learning the procedures to follow when called upon to offer any information on a particular group of people or ‘god’ for any team going off-world. They’d been witness to Casey’s ‘added tidbits of intel’, as they were referred to by the teams.

Casey blushed slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. "I still should have seen that cave entrance collapsing," she murmured.

"You saw enough," Daniel said firmly, wrapping his fingers around his wife’s hand.

"Casey has told us repeatedly that things can and do change rapidly out there," General Hammond said. "Every team that walks through the Stargate knows to remain alert and on guard, no matter what Casey might have told them, for that very reason."

"So, what you’re saying, is, even if Casey doesn’t see something, trouble can pop up," Mike said.

"If Casey doesn’t see something," Daniel replied, "it’s usually because the mission needs to happen. Although so far that seems to be something that only happens to SG-1."

"Um…’needs to happen’?" Bernie asked.

"Sometimes, I don’t see particulars to a mission, because if I did, the mission would be scrapped, or at least postponed," Casey said. "There have been times when SG-1 has been required to…well…"

"Sometimes we have to ‘fix’ something," Daniel said easily.

"It would be nice if the Big Boys would just let me know that," Casey grumped.

Mike and Bernie exchanged a glance. "Who are the ‘Big Boys’?" Mike asked.

"Very annoying Beings on a higher plane of existence who apparently find it amusing to send confusing, not-always-helpful downloads," Casey replied, with not a little indignation.

"Higher planes of existence?" Bernie looked from Casey to Daniel, to General Hammond to Ferretti, then back to Daniel.

"There’s a lot more going on here than just missions through the Stargate," Daniel said quietly.

"Daniel is ‘The Chosen’," Casey said softly. She put a hand up when both Mike and Bernie took a breath to speak. "It’s freaky enough for us, we don’t expect you to fully understand. All we know is that Daniel-"

"And SG-1," Daniel interjected.

Casey glanced at her husband and smiled. "He’s been chosen as the Champion of Mankind. Sometimes the battles we fight here…well, on our plane of existence…have consequences out there on the other planes."

"There are a couple of mission reports, which have not been seen by anyone other than the President, that I want you to read," Daniel said. "And remember this always; nothing that happens here can be discussed outside of these walls. There are people out there, the NID in particular, who would love nothing more than to find a way to either shut down the Stargate Program, or better yet for their plans, take it over. There are things happening that it’s hard for us to understand…anyone ‘outside’ isn’t going to be able to wrap their minds around it. And having anyone else find out about…things…could be disastrous on multiple levels."

Mike sighed. "I’ve been through that thing," he motioned over his shoulder with his thumb, "and I can’t wrap my mind around it. If there’s more…" He shook his head. "I’m not sure I’m ready for ‘more’."

Daniel smiled. "It’s okay, Mike. You don’t have to think about it. Or," he glanced at Bernie, "even believe it. Just…accept it."

"Sam says that it’s easier to just go with the flow, and not get hung up on what we believe can or can’t be true," Casey added. "She’s right. If we try to explain everything we’ve experienced with logic…well, it just wouldn’t work."

"It’s like accepting that the sky is blue," Daniel said. "Yes, there are scientific reasons for the color. But we don’t think about those reasons, we don’t think about the atmospheric conditions that cause us to perceive the sky as blue. We just accept it."

Mike nodded slowly. "I think I understand."

"Me, too," Bernie said. "Although I think I’m going to need more time to get to that ‘just ignore the facts and accept what you see’ point."

Daniel grinned. "Take your time. Everyone here has had to reach that point."

General Hammond added his agreement. "There are days it’s just better to follow Sam...er…Colonel Carter’s advice. Less of a headache."

"That I can believe," Mike declared.

"Congratulations on your achievements," the general said, nodding at Mike and Bernie. "I’ll be putting into your records that you’re cleared for any routine archaeological missions that Doctor Jackson may want you to go on."

"Thank you, sir," Daniel said. He turned to look at Mike. "Don’t worry. I won’t be sending you out for awhile."

"That’s good to know," Mike grinned. "I’m gonna need some time to recover from my first trip through that thing."

Easy laughter moved around the table, and then the general dismissed the group.

Major Ferretti stopped beside Bernie. "You did really good out there."

"Thank you, Major," Bernie smiled.

Ferretti nodded, gave a sloppy salute to Daniel and Casey, both of whom snickered with amusement, and strode from the room.

"That is one man you can trust with your life – any time, anywhere," Casey said softly.

"I believe it," Bernie replied.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. "Okay, now that you’ve been properly trained, hazed, and accepted, it’s time to go to work. SG-17 just brought back a couple of boxes of tablets. Unfortunately, they’re mostly in pieces. We need to get them put together to see what we have."

"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Mike asked, following as Daniel led the way toward the elevator.

"Not really. Although any mention of the Ancients or Ancient weapons is important," Daniel said.

Bernie nodded. "Beth said something about that…and something about the Ancients being totally irresponsible with weapons left around for innocents to stumble across."

"It seems that when the Ancients ascended-" Daniel started.

"There was a lot of piss-poor prior planning by the Ancients," Casey cut in. "And we’re the lucky fools who get to clean up after them."

Mike grinned. "I sense a story here."

"Oh, there’s more than one." Casey looped her arm with his. "You can read the mission reports, but I’ll give you the highlights."

When the elevator opened on level 18 not more than five minutes later, the seer and the archaeologists were laughing loudly.

He had been charged to collect the ‘tribute’ that Amaterasu was ‘paying’ to the Goa’uld who had just declared himself her new master. He had barely entered the temple, where the transport rings waited, followed by slaves carrying crates of cargo. He frowned as the man strode toward him. Hadn’t Ba’al returned to the ship the night before? "My Lord," he said, bowing low.

"Take me at once to Amaterasu," Ba’al said. "I would speak to her."

Confused, he stuttered slightly. "You wish to speak to her again?"

"Again? Oh, of course. I wish to see her in person," Ba’al said, offering an insincere smile.

Two of Amaterasu’s priests approached, obviously as confused as he was. He could only shrug when they looked at him.

"This way, my Lord," one of the priests said, holding his arm out to indicate the Goa’uld should accompany him.

The servant watched as the Ba’al was led toward the throne room, where Amaterasu had just sworn her allegiance to him. Something was very, very wrong.

September was nearly over, and for the most part, life at the SGC had been quiet. Routine missions were undertaken. More artifacts were brought back for those who worked on level 18 to examine. There been additions of statuettes, pottery – some pieces still intact, others nothing more than shards – and all declared impressive by the head archaeologist. Several of the teams had managed to find a few pieces of technological equipment that Sam and the scientists on level 21 were gleefully examining.

Mike and Bernie had become friends with the others who worked on level 18, and had come to understand that Daniel and Casey were first and foremost members of SG-1. It wasn’t unusual for the newest civilians to find several days would pass without seeing or speaking to either of the Jacksons. For Bernie especially, that ‘distance’ was comfortable, even welcome. While she no longer harbored deep feelings for Daniel, it was still sometimes awkward for her to be near him. Mike was forging a strong friendship with Doctor Adam Warnke; his expertise on the Mongols interested Mike, and the two were studying the possibility of a link between the Mongols – who had built an empire across Russia that had reached the Pacific Ocean and the Bering Strait – and Native Americans. Daniel was encouraging that study, telling the two that any leads that they might find would be examined as thoroughly as possible.

Adam and his wife, Tina, had invited the two ‘newbies’ to dinner on three occasions. Mike and Bernie swore to return the favor as soon as they were settled into a home of their own. While Tina knew nothing about the true nature of her husband’s work, she did know that he was doing archaeological work for the Air Force, which allowed the three scientists to talk about their work, although certain details were left out of the conversation. Doctors Loughlin and Watson were settled in at the SGC. There were still times that where they were, and what they were working on, could cause them to pause and gasp aloud. But for the most part, everyone involved was happy, or at the very least, content.

"Have you told anyone else about this?"

He shook his head. Realized that his companion couldn’t see him in the dark of the shadows. "No," he whispered in return.

"You say that Ba’al is actively looking for SG-1?"

"Yes. He’s given the order that all places where they are known to go be watched. To me, it seems as if he’s moving far too many Jaffa from his ships. But, that could be to our advantage."

"You must let them know. While I do not like the idea of kidnapping, time to set up a formal meeting with the leaders is a luxury we do not have. It is the only way to alert them of this…problem. Find any of the Tau’ri you can. Most certainly SG-1 would be part of any rescue attempt. Tell them everything you’ve told me."

"And the Council?" He was loyal to the Council. But at times they could talk an issue to death before actually deciding on any action. As his companion had pointed out, time was not on their side; decisions had to be made, and quickly.

"I will inform them of your findings."

"Tell them this is most urgent. Ba’al lives, and that alone is of concern. The rest…" He shook his head, again forgetting that his companion couldn’t see him.

"I will tell them. You cannot risk contacting us again…at least not for awhile."

"I understand. I know of a band of mercenaries. I can see to it that the…request…for the capture of Tau’ri be made to this group."

His companion was silent for a moment. "It would be better if any captives taken aren’t handed over to Ba’al."

"I believe I can join this group rather easily, thus preventing any captives from being delivered to Ba’al. But I must make arrangements immediately."

"Is there one you can trust to make certain this group is hired, in your absence?"

"Yes."

"Very well. How difficult will it be for you to slip away from Ba’al?"

He couldn’t help but smile. His position required that he procure those parts that the Jaffa and minor Goa’uld in Ba’al’s service needed for maintaining his ha’tak. At times, that could take days. "Not difficult at all. There is a group of his scientists and their assistants who are being sent out to locate certain…items. I can simply join them on the shuttle, and then insist that I have been sent on a personal errand for Ba’al. This has happened before, so there would be no questions asked, nor any risk of one of them alerting Ba’al to my…absence."

"Good. Just be careful."

"I will do so."

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