The Red Queen and Her White Knight

by Freya-Kendra

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Pairing: Daniel/Janet (friendship)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The Goa'ulds somehow failed to annihilate the people on P97-654, but they did not fail to leave their mark. Now Daniel Jackson and Janet Fraiser, on a misguided mission of mercy, must face the consequences.

Notes: This is not a DJ/JF shipper piece, yet neither shippers nor non-shippers should find themselves disappointed.

Posting Date: Posted at Danielites as a WIP throughout 2002; Archived at U-N-A-S: March 20, 2004. This current version is being re-edited and posted as each section is complete.

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The Red Queen and Her White Knight

1

Daniel Jackson enjoyed a cup of fresh coffee. In fact, it was so good he managed to ignore maybe even forget the fact that he was in General Hammond's briefing room deep in the heart of Cheyenne Mountain. He closed his eyes as he took another pleasurable sip. This coffee seemed especially good in comparison to the bitter drink he'd been offered on P97-654. That stuff had been brewed in battered tin pots over the open fire of an old-world hearth. There was no decent way to filter out the grinds, which could sit in the pot for hours. The beans were different there, too. Or perhaps it was just the roasting process. He hadn't asked how that was done. Not yet, anyway.

" Not exactly Mad Max, but you get the picture."

Cuing in to Jack O'Neill's voice, Daniel blinked. What was he doing? He was supposed to be concentrating on the debriefing. He mentally chided himself and tried once again to focus. Unfortunately, telling himself what to do and actually doing it could sometimes be two very different things. This was clearly one of those times.

With a heavy sigh, he wrapped both hands around the steaming cup and leaned back in his chair. He had to relax the gears spinning around in his head. He was worlds away from 654, both literally and figuratively. That planet had progressed from a wasteland to an untamed wilderness in the course of a century. The devastation shown in the slides Sam was describing now seemed incomprehensible, perhaps even fictional. Sitting there in his comfortable chair, relishing the fragrant scent of his coffee, Daniel found this viewing almost acceptable - almost.

"As you can see, General," Sam Carter said, "the damage represents what could become of any metropolitan area on Earth after a significant Goa'uld attack."

The images on the screen showed buckling concrete roads, bisected many times over and stretching out for miles in all directions. Trees grew through the large gaps the Goa'ulds' weapons had left behind. In some places, massive sheets of concrete were thrown haphazardly one atop the other, like the abandoned toys of some giant child. Perhaps most chilling of all, the skeletons of vehicles surprisingly like our own cars littered the spaces, while those of once tall buildings left a skyline of contorted, dark steel girders.

Daniel's gears began to spin anew, allowing a painful memory to creep into his consciousness, the memory of another Earth falling to the Goa'uld. Another Sam Carter and another Catherine Langford had had one last chance to open the Stargate before their mountain was destroyed. Daniel had persuaded them to use that window to save him instead of themselves, so he might save his Earth from the same fate. P97-654 represented what that Earth probably looked like right now. That other Sam and Catherine, the other Jack, even his own alter image were already dead in that reality.

Daniel envisioned his old university halls, the Chicago museum, Jack's roof under the stars, all crumbling to dust, like the city ruins on 654.

He shivered from a sudden chill and took a welcome sip of hot coffee.

Needing a reprieve from these dark thoughts, Daniel glanced away from the screen and noticed Dr. Frasier jotting something down on her notepad. Yes, there were survivors on 654, living, breathing people with ongoing medical needs. Could that mean there were also survivors on the alternate Earth? As much as Daniel wanted to cling to that hope, he couldn't. The survivors on P97-654 were a fluke. The Goa'uld were not generally so careless.

"Just how much like Earth was this planet?"

Daniel let the sound of the general's barely discernable Texas drawl pull him back from his reverie in time to hear Jack's honest and somehow frightening answer.

"I'd swear one of those cars was the shell of a '68 Mustang." Unfortunately, he was not being sarcastic. It was the absolute truth.

Sam brought up the next slide, showing items which could as easily have been found at the SGC after a Goa'uld attack. "This city almost paralleled any we have on Earth. At just the one site, we found what appear to be computers, copy-machines, everything you would expect to find in any office building here."

"Almost paralleled, Major? In your opinion, what are the primary differences between our worlds?"

Jack replied instead. "How about the fact that they actually fought the Goa'uld and lost?"

"No, sirs," Carter countered. "I don't think so. The evidence suggests a massive, sudden attack. We haven't seen anything yet to indicate these people had a chance to even try to fight back."

"Indeed." Teal'c gave a slight nod. "As would be typical of the Goa'uld."

Daniel leaned forward in his chair, setting his cup on the table as he prepared to address one of his own, nagging concerns. "Yes, well, I'd say the fact there were any survivors was pretty atypical, wouldn't you?"

"That is correct, Daniel Jackson. When a system lord orders this degree of destruction, it is generally intended to eliminate the population entirely." Teal'c turned away from Daniel, his eyes growing distant as his jaw twitched, his visage turning cold. "This lord's Jaffa would pay dearly for leaving the planet before the devastation was complete."

Daniel's dark thoughts were spreading.

Luckily, Sam was not as deeply affected. "We're just beginning to analyze the computers we brought back with us," she said excitedly, guiding them all beyond the sudden, somber mood, "but what we've found so far suggests the people on P97-654 were slightly more advanced than we are today. And since this attack seems to have occurred at least a hundred years ago, there's no telling how many more advancements they might have made if they'd been allowed to continue as they were."

"Yeah, well, they kind of fell behind that particular eight-ball," Jack said.

Hammond turned a questioning eye on him. "Colonel?"

But Daniel took that as his own cue to respond. "The life-style they've taken up since their city's destruction is primitive by comparison."

He rose, taking Sam's place in front of the screen and calling up a slide that presented a stark contrast to the ruined city, this one showing what might have been a quaint replica of a small town in the old west. "No electricity. No running water."

"No phones, no lights, no motor cars," Jack mumbled.

"Did the original survivors at least try to reestablish such rudimentary necessities?" Hammond asked, paying no attention to Jack's remark.

"I don't know," Daniel's answer came slowly as he mentally chalked up another mark on his own tally of suspicions. "But whatever they did at first, their descendants want no part of it. The people there now stay well away from the old city and won't even try to understand what their ancestors lived like."

That was Daniel's chief frustration. How could any society move ahead without understanding what was left behind?

He cleared his throat but was not as successful at clearing his mind. "It took a century before they tried to build a community again. Until recently, they'd lived in small, family units, completely cut off from one another. Apparently, this town is the first of its kind."

Hammond gave SG-1's anthropologist a penetrating look. "What changed?"

Daniel met the general's gaze. "Right."

He looked back toward the screen and pulled up another image. "This is Cor Naedjel, the chief elder. `Cor' is a respectful title, given to anyone with any degree of authority, but this man has all the real power. Most citizens are addressed using the term `Den', something akin to our use of `Mr.', or ` Der ' for `Ms.' or `Mrs.'"

He gave himself a moment to stare at the screen, studying the image before returning his attention to the general. "Cor Naedjel calls Unity his town and credits himself with having brought his people together."

"Fair enough," Hammond answered. "They seem to be on their road to recovery. Regardless of what you might feel about this man's politics, Dr. Jackson, why should we intervene?"

This time it was Dr. Frasier's turn to take the cue. "General, if I may?"

At his quick nod, she continued, leaving Daniel free to retake his seat.

"According to SG-1's reports, the people in Unity are suffering some negative effects from coming together after an extended period spent in isolation. While it would require an on-site study to be conclusive, I believe this town could be a catalyst for evolving variations of viruses and bacterium. Illnesses one family unit may have developed immunities for are infecting the other family units, and those illnesses could be mutating at an incredible rate. Sir, if I'm right and we don't help these people get the situation under control, this `community' of theirs could soon become as extinct as their ancestors' city."

"Thank you, Doctor." The general seemed to consider her words for a moment before turning his attention to Jack. "Colonel?"

"I think it would be a good idea for us to find out how they got the Goa'ulds ' attention in the first place, General."

Sam nodded in agreement. "I'm hoping we'll see something useful in that respect on the computer data we're trying to retrieve."

"Very well, Major. Keep me apprised."

Daniel took another sip of coffee, considering the jumble of questions still on his mind. He decided it was time to voice the one foremost among them. "General Hammond, these people have a past they're either trying to conceal from us, or they're trying to hide from themselves. Either way, I think it's important we find out what it is."

"Very well. Dr. Frasier, SG-1, you have a go. I want a full assessment of resource requirements documented and on my desk by 0700 tomorrow morning."

tbc