Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate or its characters, but wished I did. All
characters I created are mine. The people of PX-7293 are mine, which
includes Jeanne. Nunval, Daniel's symbiote is my creation! (Yes,
everyone's favorite archaeologist is a Tok'ra!) Here's my attempt at an
AU story, my first! This is hopefully the first in a series telling of the
adventures of an alternate SG-1. Enjoy! (Love feedback, but, please no
flames!)
Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.. By: Silver and Black
Colonel Janet Fraiser took off her cap and ran her fingers over buzz cut brown hair as she looked around at the vista surrounding the Stargate. Her 2IC, Major Jack O'Neill, swore under his breath upon seeing the endless line of trees. "I hate trees! Why does every damn planet we travel to have trees? How about a sandy beach, clear blue water, and swaying palms for a change," O'Neill ranted. Captains Jonas Quinn and Daniel Jackson groaned, thinking, Here we go again! The only civilian member of SG-1 stood silently, waiting for him to finish his anti-tree tirade. "If you are finished, Major, we will be moving out," Fraiser barked in the authoritarian voice she used when issuing orders. "Yes, sir. Moving out, sir. Will not say more, sir," O'Neill said in a staccato voice as he ran ahead in an attempt to avoid the icy glare she shot his way. "Good, see that you do," his CO snapped back. "Quinn! Jackson! O'Neill! Teal'c! Let's get a move on! I want to be out of these woods as quickly as possible," Fraiser said to her team. No one said a word, just clutched their P-90s tightly as SG-1 slipped stealthily into the cover of the trees. Around them the forest was ominously quiet, no birds sang joyfully nor did small animals scamper about playfully. Everyone noticed this but didn't say a word about the strange absence of forest sounds. One sound could be heard, however, the sound of twigs snapping under boots. Halfway through their journey in the woods, Fraiser stopped her team long enough for her to retrieve her binoculars. She replaced the cap on her head with one hand and raised the binoculars with the other. The rest of her team waited anxiously to see if the sweep revealed a presence of any kind. Of course, the kind of presence that most concerned them would be a potentially hostile one. Blurry shapes raced past the binoculars and she quickly zoomed in the focus. It was not what any of them wanted to see. A Jaffa patrol. Leading them was a Goa'uld dressed in Jaffa armor. "Quinn, take the left. Jackson, right. O'Neill, Teal'c, watch my six," she said, ordering her team to form up. Fraiser let the binoculars drop down under her vest and speedily drew a zat from the holster at her hip. Around her, the rest of SG-1 took weapons to hand. Together, they ducked behind the cover of some trees. "Have they spotted us," she whispered to Teal'c. "Negative, Colonel Fraiser. They are not yet aware of our presence," the Jaffa whispered back. "May be if we stay hidden, they will leave and we can get away unnoticed," Captain Quinn said, sotto voce. She put a finger over her lips to indicate she wanted her team to be quiet and fished out her binoculars. Fraiser leaned out from behind the tree, training her binoculars on the Jaffa patrol. So far, so good. They haven't seen us, she thought as she watched them search. She quickly popped back behind the tree. The five some waited nervously, hoping the patrol would not notice them. One of the Jaffa was using the end of his staff weapon to push back foliage in case someone had tried to use it for concealment. Another turned to their leader and said, "There's no one here, my Lord. We have searched every inch of the woods and turned up nothing." "No, there is some one here. I sense the presence of another Goa'uld. Keep looking," Heru'ur said to his First Prime. Daniel knew that if Heru'ur could sense his symbiote, then he could find them. Jonas held onto the grips of his P- 90 so tightly his knuckles turned white. Teal'c calmly listened to the approaching footfalls of the Jaffa, staff weapon in his hands. O'Neill clearly itched to use his zat against some snakeheads. Fraiser heard the Goa'uld give orders to his Jaffa as they neared the trees where SG-1 was hiding. A staff blast struck the ground mere inches from their position. She gave her team the signal to follow. They stepped out from behind the trees, weapons blazing. Fraiser destroyed Heru'ur with three shots from her zat and took out two or three more with successive shots. Jonas poured gunfire into the group, dropping several in a spray of bullets. Teal'c brought his staff weapon into play, firing off several shots, before taking a staff blast in the arm. O'Neill zatted the rest of the snakeheads into oblivion. She destroyed the corpses of the Jaffa so that if another patrol came through they wouldn't find their dead comrades and decide to come after SG-1. "Let's get out of here before we run into any more unpleasant surprises," Fraiser said, a statement to which all nodded in agreement. All stayed vigilant but Fate smiled on them and didn't send any more nasty problems their way. Emerging on the other side of the woods, the team found themselves standing in the midst of a medieval style village. A young woman dressed in a chain mail tunic approached from the direction of the blacksmith's forge. "Jackson, you're on," Fraiser said as she pushed Daniel forward. The young archaeologist confidently stepped up to the young woman and addressed her in Medieval French. She seemed to understand, smiled, offering her hand. He took it in his, shaking it gently. "These are your friends, no," Jeanne asked, switching to English, albeit heavily accented. "Major Jack O'Neill. Captain Jonas Quinn of Kelowna and the Jaffa is Teal'c. Colonel Janet Fraiser. I'm Captain Dr. Daniel Jackson," he said as he gestured to each of his teammates in turn and then tapped himself on the chest. "Where do you came from," she said. "Earth. We're peaceful explorers," Daniel replied. "I've never heard of it. How did you get here," Jeanne said. "Through the Stargate," Teal'c said, speaking for the first time. "Stargate? What is this Stargate," she asked, curiosity shining in her eyes. "That big metal ring thing you got parked out there," Jack said, pointing in the direction of the clearing. "Have you come to help us in our fight against the foreign invaders," she asked. "Yes, we will help you and your people in any way we can," said Fraiser. "The Dauphin has granted me audience for tomorrow. If you'd like to come with me, I'm sure my father will allow you the loan of our horses," Jeanne said. "Daniel Jackson, what is a Dauphin," Teal'c asked, eyebrow raised in an expression of confusion. "Dauphin was the title given to the oldest son of the king of France, the heir apparent. Charles VII held the title when Joan of Arc appealed to him for an army who'd fight with her against the English," Daniel said briefly by way of explanation. "My parents would like to meet the people who will lead our people to freedom. Our house is just up here on the left. Follow me," Jeanne said as she made a beckoning gesture to SG- 1. While she led them home, SG-1 whispered amongst themselves about her "foreign invaders". "Your "foreign invaders" are the Goa'uld," Jonas said, tearing off a hunk of bread with perfectly straight white teeth. "All of them have the same M.O.," the Kelownan continued, his mouth now full of food, "capture a planet, enslave the population, and pass themselves off as gods." From across the table, Fraiser shot him a withering glance that seemed to say, "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" "The Goa'uld are far more powerful than the English and they have much more advanced technology. I hate to say this, but any army the Dauphin can give you won't be up to the task," Daniel said, picking up the thread of the conversation. "We're going to have to call in the cavalry on this one. Our allies will have to be notified, of course," the archaeologist-soldier continued before taking a drink from his flagon. Fraiser asked, "Luc, when did these "foreign invaders" arrive?" "Two years ago today," was his simple answer.
"What did the "foreign invaders" want?"
"Our mines. Apparently this planet is rich in a mineral they need to build their ships. They tried to take the mines but we fought hard to keep them. No matter how many soldat the Dauphin sent against the invaders, they still lost. Finally, the Goa'uld crushed us and took possession of the mines. We became their slaves, forced to work in the mines. Jeanne has been working to free the slaves and train them for an army. She put out a call to arms; many of the citizenry joined her. Unfortunately, this army is not strong enough, so she has appealed to the Dauphin for aid. Thank God you came. We were beginning to despair that no outside help would come. We are grateful for all that you are doing for us." Daniel took a look at his watch and made note of the time. "Sir, we report into General Hammond in half an hour," he gently reminded Fraiser. She pulled back the Velcro strap on her watch, taking a quick glance at the face. "Thanks for reminding me, Jackson. I'd almost forgotten," she told him gratefully. She'd become so absorbed in the conversation and meal that having to report in nearly slipped her mind. Jeanne, who hadn't spoken since SG-1 came into her house, piped up, "Colonel, who is this General Hammond?"
"He is our commanding officer, the one from whom we take our orders."
"In other words, he's your leader, right?" "You could say that."
"Another question, Colonel. Why is your hair so short? Does something keep you from letting it grow long?"
Fraiser laughed, a sweet, melodious sound. "Actually, Jeanne, that's two questions. I can answer them in two words: military regulations. Most of the women on the base have hair that's at least chin length. The shortest they go is a style like O'Neill's. All of the women give me strange looks because I cut my hair so severely short. When I was a little girl, however, I had long hair just like you. But I joined the Air Force, so I had to get a haircut that met regulations." Jeanne's curiosity got the better of her and she submitted SG-1 to a half-an-hour Q&A session. Just as she was about to ask another question, Daniel waved his hand to silence her. "Thank you for the meal, Luc, Genviève. It was wonderful but we must be going now. General Hammond gets upset if we don't report in on time," he said, rising from his seat on the bench. No one looked to be upset to be leaving and no one grumbled as they followed him out the door.
"Unauthorized off world activation," Sgt. Walter Davis' voice rang through the base's loudspeakers while klaxons blared. Hammond dashed down the metal stairs that led from his office to the embarkation room. "Receiving SG-1's iris code, sir," he said to the SGC's CO. "Open the iris," Hammond ordered Davis. On the Stargate, the metal iris covering the wormhole swirled away. All of the computer monitors ringing the control room came to life, displaying the image of Colonel Fraiser. "Sir, the situation here is so bad that we are not going to be able to go this alone. Jeanne, one of the inhabitants, has raised a citizen army and trained those she could free from the naquada mines. Tomorrow we're going to see the Dauphin so that she can ask him for aid. I'm worried, as is Jackson that whatever army he can give her won't stand a chance. We need help. Sir, it's time to call in the cavalry and get on the horn to the Tok'ra or the Asgard." "I'll give SG-3 and Colonel Smith the go. General Martouf is scheduled to arrive at the base tomorrow. Thor sent me a message that he's busy right now and can't spare any ships. Sorry, Colonel." "Are there any more units you could spare, sir?" "Everyone's off world right now. No teams are scheduled to return tonight. All will return in a few days." "I see, sir. Fraiser, out." The connection cut off and all of the monitors returned to their original graphic of the Stargate. Hammond grabbed the microphone from Davis' hand. Looking out through the glass window, he addressed the men waiting in the embarkation room, "SG-3, you have a go. I repeat, you have a go." Smith nodded his head in acknowledgement. After adjusting their helmets one last time, the men marched up the ramp, then disappeared through the standing pool.
Back on PX-7293, O'Neill drummed his fingers impatiently on the MALP while waiting for SG-3 to arrive. The lights around the rim of the Stargate lit up as the circle began to rotate with a groan. Blue liquid shot out in a violent spray, then sucked back in on itself, forming a strange inverted pool. Five figures stepped though into the clearing. Lights on the Stargate winked out as the wormhole vanished. Fraiser approached the men, the rest of SG-1 at her heels. Smith removed his helmet then smoothed his fingers over close-cropped ash blonde hair. "Colonel, welcome to PX-7293," she said, taking his helmet. She did it carefully so as not to touch him. Everyone on the base knew about his paranoia of being touched. A touch was all that was needed for him to have one of his visions. It was no secret that the man was a psychic. That happened to be public knowledge, what wasn't public knowledge was how he came to be in possession of these abilities. Some said they were the result of an ice hockey injury sustained at six, others that he had been born with them. What all could agree on, however, was that Colonel John-no- middle-initial-Smith was a mystery. SG-1 shifted uneasily under his piercing ice blue gaze. "Sir," Daniel said, pulling together what was left of his confidence, "let us help you and your men get settled in." Fraiser jumped in to bail him out, "Jeanne will serve lunch, after which I will brief you." She tucked his helmet under her arm before turning on her heel and walking away with her team in her wake. Jeanne came into the clearing to escort Johnny and his men to her house.
Lunch served to the SG-3 marines was a hearty beef barley stew, fresh bread, soft cheese, and a drink of fermented honey called mead. Jeanne watched the men happily devour the food placed before them. One of the men, the leader, talked only to her. His men, on the other hand, only talked to each other. She had to admit that SG-3's commander had to be one of the most intriguing men she'd ever met. He wasn't handsome but he did have a pleasant face. Johnny was the first blonde she'd ever seen, all the men of Nouvelle France were brunettes like O'Neill. The colonel happened to also be the first man she'd seen who didn't have long hair. What Jeanne loved about him was the same thing that had attracted her to Daniel: blue eyes. She thought it was strange that every time she tried to touch his hand, he pulled away. "Why don't you like to like to be touched, Jean," she asked, calling him by the French form of his name. "I have visions that are initiated by touch, visions which allow me to see the future. When I touch a person or an object belonging to that person, I have a vision of either something that already happened or will in the future. Usually, these visions show me something horrible. Some times it's within my power to prevent what I see from taking place, sometimes it's not."
"Touch me, Jean, and tell me what you see." He grabbed a hold of her hand and squeezed so tightly she thought it would break. A look of extreme concentration came over his face. Blue eyes flashed a strange electric purple, the sign that heralded Johnny's visions.
Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.. By: Silver and Black
Colonel Janet Fraiser took off her cap and ran her fingers over buzz cut brown hair as she looked around at the vista surrounding the Stargate. Her 2IC, Major Jack O'Neill, swore under his breath upon seeing the endless line of trees. "I hate trees! Why does every damn planet we travel to have trees? How about a sandy beach, clear blue water, and swaying palms for a change," O'Neill ranted. Captains Jonas Quinn and Daniel Jackson groaned, thinking, Here we go again! The only civilian member of SG-1 stood silently, waiting for him to finish his anti-tree tirade. "If you are finished, Major, we will be moving out," Fraiser barked in the authoritarian voice she used when issuing orders. "Yes, sir. Moving out, sir. Will not say more, sir," O'Neill said in a staccato voice as he ran ahead in an attempt to avoid the icy glare she shot his way. "Good, see that you do," his CO snapped back. "Quinn! Jackson! O'Neill! Teal'c! Let's get a move on! I want to be out of these woods as quickly as possible," Fraiser said to her team. No one said a word, just clutched their P-90s tightly as SG-1 slipped stealthily into the cover of the trees. Around them the forest was ominously quiet, no birds sang joyfully nor did small animals scamper about playfully. Everyone noticed this but didn't say a word about the strange absence of forest sounds. One sound could be heard, however, the sound of twigs snapping under boots. Halfway through their journey in the woods, Fraiser stopped her team long enough for her to retrieve her binoculars. She replaced the cap on her head with one hand and raised the binoculars with the other. The rest of her team waited anxiously to see if the sweep revealed a presence of any kind. Of course, the kind of presence that most concerned them would be a potentially hostile one. Blurry shapes raced past the binoculars and she quickly zoomed in the focus. It was not what any of them wanted to see. A Jaffa patrol. Leading them was a Goa'uld dressed in Jaffa armor. "Quinn, take the left. Jackson, right. O'Neill, Teal'c, watch my six," she said, ordering her team to form up. Fraiser let the binoculars drop down under her vest and speedily drew a zat from the holster at her hip. Around her, the rest of SG-1 took weapons to hand. Together, they ducked behind the cover of some trees. "Have they spotted us," she whispered to Teal'c. "Negative, Colonel Fraiser. They are not yet aware of our presence," the Jaffa whispered back. "May be if we stay hidden, they will leave and we can get away unnoticed," Captain Quinn said, sotto voce. She put a finger over her lips to indicate she wanted her team to be quiet and fished out her binoculars. Fraiser leaned out from behind the tree, training her binoculars on the Jaffa patrol. So far, so good. They haven't seen us, she thought as she watched them search. She quickly popped back behind the tree. The five some waited nervously, hoping the patrol would not notice them. One of the Jaffa was using the end of his staff weapon to push back foliage in case someone had tried to use it for concealment. Another turned to their leader and said, "There's no one here, my Lord. We have searched every inch of the woods and turned up nothing." "No, there is some one here. I sense the presence of another Goa'uld. Keep looking," Heru'ur said to his First Prime. Daniel knew that if Heru'ur could sense his symbiote, then he could find them. Jonas held onto the grips of his P- 90 so tightly his knuckles turned white. Teal'c calmly listened to the approaching footfalls of the Jaffa, staff weapon in his hands. O'Neill clearly itched to use his zat against some snakeheads. Fraiser heard the Goa'uld give orders to his Jaffa as they neared the trees where SG-1 was hiding. A staff blast struck the ground mere inches from their position. She gave her team the signal to follow. They stepped out from behind the trees, weapons blazing. Fraiser destroyed Heru'ur with three shots from her zat and took out two or three more with successive shots. Jonas poured gunfire into the group, dropping several in a spray of bullets. Teal'c brought his staff weapon into play, firing off several shots, before taking a staff blast in the arm. O'Neill zatted the rest of the snakeheads into oblivion. She destroyed the corpses of the Jaffa so that if another patrol came through they wouldn't find their dead comrades and decide to come after SG-1. "Let's get out of here before we run into any more unpleasant surprises," Fraiser said, a statement to which all nodded in agreement. All stayed vigilant but Fate smiled on them and didn't send any more nasty problems their way. Emerging on the other side of the woods, the team found themselves standing in the midst of a medieval style village. A young woman dressed in a chain mail tunic approached from the direction of the blacksmith's forge. "Jackson, you're on," Fraiser said as she pushed Daniel forward. The young archaeologist confidently stepped up to the young woman and addressed her in Medieval French. She seemed to understand, smiled, offering her hand. He took it in his, shaking it gently. "These are your friends, no," Jeanne asked, switching to English, albeit heavily accented. "Major Jack O'Neill. Captain Jonas Quinn of Kelowna and the Jaffa is Teal'c. Colonel Janet Fraiser. I'm Captain Dr. Daniel Jackson," he said as he gestured to each of his teammates in turn and then tapped himself on the chest. "Where do you came from," she said. "Earth. We're peaceful explorers," Daniel replied. "I've never heard of it. How did you get here," Jeanne said. "Through the Stargate," Teal'c said, speaking for the first time. "Stargate? What is this Stargate," she asked, curiosity shining in her eyes. "That big metal ring thing you got parked out there," Jack said, pointing in the direction of the clearing. "Have you come to help us in our fight against the foreign invaders," she asked. "Yes, we will help you and your people in any way we can," said Fraiser. "The Dauphin has granted me audience for tomorrow. If you'd like to come with me, I'm sure my father will allow you the loan of our horses," Jeanne said. "Daniel Jackson, what is a Dauphin," Teal'c asked, eyebrow raised in an expression of confusion. "Dauphin was the title given to the oldest son of the king of France, the heir apparent. Charles VII held the title when Joan of Arc appealed to him for an army who'd fight with her against the English," Daniel said briefly by way of explanation. "My parents would like to meet the people who will lead our people to freedom. Our house is just up here on the left. Follow me," Jeanne said as she made a beckoning gesture to SG- 1. While she led them home, SG-1 whispered amongst themselves about her "foreign invaders". "Your "foreign invaders" are the Goa'uld," Jonas said, tearing off a hunk of bread with perfectly straight white teeth. "All of them have the same M.O.," the Kelownan continued, his mouth now full of food, "capture a planet, enslave the population, and pass themselves off as gods." From across the table, Fraiser shot him a withering glance that seemed to say, "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" "The Goa'uld are far more powerful than the English and they have much more advanced technology. I hate to say this, but any army the Dauphin can give you won't be up to the task," Daniel said, picking up the thread of the conversation. "We're going to have to call in the cavalry on this one. Our allies will have to be notified, of course," the archaeologist-soldier continued before taking a drink from his flagon. Fraiser asked, "Luc, when did these "foreign invaders" arrive?" "Two years ago today," was his simple answer.
"What did the "foreign invaders" want?"
"Our mines. Apparently this planet is rich in a mineral they need to build their ships. They tried to take the mines but we fought hard to keep them. No matter how many soldat the Dauphin sent against the invaders, they still lost. Finally, the Goa'uld crushed us and took possession of the mines. We became their slaves, forced to work in the mines. Jeanne has been working to free the slaves and train them for an army. She put out a call to arms; many of the citizenry joined her. Unfortunately, this army is not strong enough, so she has appealed to the Dauphin for aid. Thank God you came. We were beginning to despair that no outside help would come. We are grateful for all that you are doing for us." Daniel took a look at his watch and made note of the time. "Sir, we report into General Hammond in half an hour," he gently reminded Fraiser. She pulled back the Velcro strap on her watch, taking a quick glance at the face. "Thanks for reminding me, Jackson. I'd almost forgotten," she told him gratefully. She'd become so absorbed in the conversation and meal that having to report in nearly slipped her mind. Jeanne, who hadn't spoken since SG-1 came into her house, piped up, "Colonel, who is this General Hammond?"
"He is our commanding officer, the one from whom we take our orders."
"In other words, he's your leader, right?" "You could say that."
"Another question, Colonel. Why is your hair so short? Does something keep you from letting it grow long?"
Fraiser laughed, a sweet, melodious sound. "Actually, Jeanne, that's two questions. I can answer them in two words: military regulations. Most of the women on the base have hair that's at least chin length. The shortest they go is a style like O'Neill's. All of the women give me strange looks because I cut my hair so severely short. When I was a little girl, however, I had long hair just like you. But I joined the Air Force, so I had to get a haircut that met regulations." Jeanne's curiosity got the better of her and she submitted SG-1 to a half-an-hour Q&A session. Just as she was about to ask another question, Daniel waved his hand to silence her. "Thank you for the meal, Luc, Genviève. It was wonderful but we must be going now. General Hammond gets upset if we don't report in on time," he said, rising from his seat on the bench. No one looked to be upset to be leaving and no one grumbled as they followed him out the door.
"Unauthorized off world activation," Sgt. Walter Davis' voice rang through the base's loudspeakers while klaxons blared. Hammond dashed down the metal stairs that led from his office to the embarkation room. "Receiving SG-1's iris code, sir," he said to the SGC's CO. "Open the iris," Hammond ordered Davis. On the Stargate, the metal iris covering the wormhole swirled away. All of the computer monitors ringing the control room came to life, displaying the image of Colonel Fraiser. "Sir, the situation here is so bad that we are not going to be able to go this alone. Jeanne, one of the inhabitants, has raised a citizen army and trained those she could free from the naquada mines. Tomorrow we're going to see the Dauphin so that she can ask him for aid. I'm worried, as is Jackson that whatever army he can give her won't stand a chance. We need help. Sir, it's time to call in the cavalry and get on the horn to the Tok'ra or the Asgard." "I'll give SG-3 and Colonel Smith the go. General Martouf is scheduled to arrive at the base tomorrow. Thor sent me a message that he's busy right now and can't spare any ships. Sorry, Colonel." "Are there any more units you could spare, sir?" "Everyone's off world right now. No teams are scheduled to return tonight. All will return in a few days." "I see, sir. Fraiser, out." The connection cut off and all of the monitors returned to their original graphic of the Stargate. Hammond grabbed the microphone from Davis' hand. Looking out through the glass window, he addressed the men waiting in the embarkation room, "SG-3, you have a go. I repeat, you have a go." Smith nodded his head in acknowledgement. After adjusting their helmets one last time, the men marched up the ramp, then disappeared through the standing pool.
Back on PX-7293, O'Neill drummed his fingers impatiently on the MALP while waiting for SG-3 to arrive. The lights around the rim of the Stargate lit up as the circle began to rotate with a groan. Blue liquid shot out in a violent spray, then sucked back in on itself, forming a strange inverted pool. Five figures stepped though into the clearing. Lights on the Stargate winked out as the wormhole vanished. Fraiser approached the men, the rest of SG-1 at her heels. Smith removed his helmet then smoothed his fingers over close-cropped ash blonde hair. "Colonel, welcome to PX-7293," she said, taking his helmet. She did it carefully so as not to touch him. Everyone on the base knew about his paranoia of being touched. A touch was all that was needed for him to have one of his visions. It was no secret that the man was a psychic. That happened to be public knowledge, what wasn't public knowledge was how he came to be in possession of these abilities. Some said they were the result of an ice hockey injury sustained at six, others that he had been born with them. What all could agree on, however, was that Colonel John-no- middle-initial-Smith was a mystery. SG-1 shifted uneasily under his piercing ice blue gaze. "Sir," Daniel said, pulling together what was left of his confidence, "let us help you and your men get settled in." Fraiser jumped in to bail him out, "Jeanne will serve lunch, after which I will brief you." She tucked his helmet under her arm before turning on her heel and walking away with her team in her wake. Jeanne came into the clearing to escort Johnny and his men to her house.
Lunch served to the SG-3 marines was a hearty beef barley stew, fresh bread, soft cheese, and a drink of fermented honey called mead. Jeanne watched the men happily devour the food placed before them. One of the men, the leader, talked only to her. His men, on the other hand, only talked to each other. She had to admit that SG-3's commander had to be one of the most intriguing men she'd ever met. He wasn't handsome but he did have a pleasant face. Johnny was the first blonde she'd ever seen, all the men of Nouvelle France were brunettes like O'Neill. The colonel happened to also be the first man she'd seen who didn't have long hair. What Jeanne loved about him was the same thing that had attracted her to Daniel: blue eyes. She thought it was strange that every time she tried to touch his hand, he pulled away. "Why don't you like to like to be touched, Jean," she asked, calling him by the French form of his name. "I have visions that are initiated by touch, visions which allow me to see the future. When I touch a person or an object belonging to that person, I have a vision of either something that already happened or will in the future. Usually, these visions show me something horrible. Some times it's within my power to prevent what I see from taking place, sometimes it's not."
"Touch me, Jean, and tell me what you see." He grabbed a hold of her hand and squeezed so tightly she thought it would break. A look of extreme concentration came over his face. Blue eyes flashed a strange electric purple, the sign that heralded Johnny's visions.