Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own 'Stargate, SG-1.' If I did, the show would still be on.

Progeny

by Linda Bindner

A/N: an AU of seasons 9 and 10

Thanks go to Noda2 and KEF for being such GREAT betas

Chapter 1

The Letter That Changed a Life

SG-1 had long since disbanded. In a lot of ways, Jack was alone again for the first time in 8 years.

Jack had been the first to leave when he'd been promoted from Colonel to Brigadier General. He pretended for at least a year that his promotion hadn't completely removed him from the team, or from his teammates. But well into his second year as commander of the SGC he'd had to admit it at least to himself: his teammates were still out there, fighting the good fight, but the fight had changed for him. He truly had gone where no one had gone before (except General Hammond... and Elizabeth Weir... and he supposed someone would come after his stint as SGC leader... so saying he'd gone where ho one had gone before wasn't exactly accurate. He'd gone where only a few had gone before... there, that was better.)

Teal'c had been the next to leave; predictably enough, the new Jaffa Nation had entreated him to lead them in their nation building, and being the camouflaged sap that he was, Teal'c couldn't resist a call from his own people.

Carter had been next on the quitter's list: she had gotten married to... Jack still couldn't bring himself to name the guy. He had gone to the wedding, been a presence there... but that's all he had been: a warm body dressed in an Air Force uniform. He'd done his best to make his presence look official - he'd borrowed one of those ear pieces with a built in microphone that the security people had recently adopted, saying that he wanted to stay abreast of any and all security developments himself. He had actually tuned it in to a completely different channel than the other security personnel were using during the ceremony. He'd recorded himself reciting the periodic table and had played it on his machine's loop setting so that his tape wouldn't catastrophically run out during the vows.

Instead of paying attention to those vows, he'd made sure to stand in the back on the groom's side of the church - since those guests were certain not to know standard military security jargon - and would be impressed by the uniform. With his eyes trained studiously on the floor rather than the bride and groom, he was seemingly tuned in to a continuous flow of security reports. In actuality, he was learning stuff he never thought he'd learn about Carter-things like 'Boron.' As unfamiliar elements, numbers, and weights played in his ear, he kept nodding and saying the occasional 'Keep me informed, Sergeant,' and 'Move team three to intercept' and 'Copy that' over and over again in a low voice. Before he knew it, he'd lived through the ceremony without really witnessing any of it.

He had stood with Daniel and Teal'c in the receiving line until they were ten feet from the bride and groom when he'd abruptly created a fictional security detail that drew him out of the line, away from the church, into his truck, and down the road till he was far away, looking very important while doing absolutely nothing. The fact that he'd purposely missed the reception - and more importantly, its cake - had said more to Carter than he had.

Ironically enough, he'd actually memorized the Periodic Table of the Elements that day, and was muttering it under his breath as Daniel soon after left the SGC on the Daedalus as the premier Earth scholar on the Ancients, heading for a three month tour on Atlantis. When his three month tour turned into a six month extended tour, Jack was ready for it and didn't begrudge his friend his play date with all things Ancient.

In the meantime, Carter came back from what Jack considered her completely cliché two week honeymoon trip to Hawaii to find transfer orders. Jack had figured that he would help her new husband find out what military life was really like by immediately agreeing to the transfer request he got at least once a month from General Hadley at Area 51 in Nevada for Colonel Carter to head R&D. She was gone before he'd managed to unbury himself from the many reviews he'd been told - last week - that he had to complete now. He hadn't even been forced to see her with someone else's ring on her finger. It still bothered him to no end that there was a ring on her finger, especially one belonging to somebody that wasn't him, but as long as he didn't have to see it, he could simply pretend that Carter was on a very extended mission to the Alpha Site.

And so, with no fuss or fanfare, the original SG-1 had quietly vanished from the halls of the SGC. In it's place was the new SG-1, the front-line team led by some brash young military person, peopled by a linguist, a geologist/sociologist, and a military 2IC who made Teal'c look cuddly. They were soon just another team designation to Jack, kind of like SG-3 or SG-17. Now, six months after 'the wedding from Hell that I didn't actually witness,' he didn't care about SG-1. Jack O'Neill was truly the leader of the Tau'ri, a universal force to be reckoned with, the man who was undoubtedly 'The Man.'

Jack prided himself on knowing exactly what was going on everywhere on his base. He missed Spacemonkey like it was going out of style, but didn't blink when Daniel requested three more months to play in another galaxy's sandbox. He helped Teal'c with his nation building only when the Jaffa asked for his help, which he did, on three separate occasions. He studiously avoided all reports from Area 51's R&D, instead delegating them to Colonel Reynolds, his 2IC, to read and review. Jack figured that the Colonel could use the practice at reading reports, then summarizing them for him. He was helping the man - really!

All in all, things were going along swimmingly. Daniel was scheduled to arrive home in two days, Teal'c had again checked in as planned to say that all was well within the new Jaffa Nation, and Carter was playing happy wife in another state altogether. Jack had finally fully adjusted to his roll as SGC General now that his former teammates were all gone. He was even on top of his paperwork: Walter barely knew what to think.

Jack barely knew what to think, either, except that he didn't want to jinx the way things had been running ultra smoothly for the last month. Things were so good that they were scary. He didn't have anybody waiting for him at home, and he preferred it that way. If he had in effect run away from Carter on her wedding day, then purposefully removed her from his command, he refused to let himself dwell. There was nothing and nobody (human, alien, robotic, cloned, or copied) to crimp his style. This was the life!

That was the atmosphere at the SGC when Walter casually tossed The Letter onto his desk. The ticking of the ultimate time bomb had unknowingly begun.

What was this? Jack slid his attention from the form he'd been diligently filling out to the white envelope that had appeared in front of him. It was unusual for him not to automatically know ahead of time what every envelope at the SGC contained. Stranger yet, it only said the words General O 'Neill - Confidential on the outer envelope. Turning it over to examine the back side revealed nothing more to clue him in on the envelope's contents. Curious, he efficiently slit the envelope and drew out the single sheet of paper held within. He unfolded it, read the first few lines with nonchalant interest, then choked.

From Captain Andrea Blaley, Infirmary Nurse, SGC To General Jack O'Neill, Stargate Command, NORAD, Colorado

Dear Sir,

If you're reading this, then I must be dead. If so, then I have something very important to tell you. It will most likely come as a complete shock to you, so it's probably best if you're sitting down.

On February 3, 2005, I gave birth to a baby girl I named Alison. I had always said that her father was my boyfriend who was gone before anybody could meet him, but I lied. You are the father.

No, this isn't some twisted alternate reality. No, we didn't have some kind of romantic relationship that you conveniently don't remember. You are, in fact, purely innocent of all decisions pertaining to Alison. I take full responsibility for her creation. You weren't ever to know, except on my death.

To explain: In March 2004 you were frozen in an Ancient sleeping chamber in Antarctica, and thought to be temporarily lost. By May, your temporary status had changed to MIA/KIA, since it was unknown if you would ever be successfully revived. It was then that I began considering what the loss of your ATA gene would mean to Earth and its allies, particularly to the Asgard and their cloning degradation problem, as your offspring was believed to hold the key to their racial survival. Worried that it would prove impossible to rescue you from Antarctica and your Ancient gene would be lost, and that it would be unlikely that we stumble on another Air Force member who just happened to have the Ancient gene, I stole the sperm sample you had left in the Infirmary for safekeeping for the Asgard, and I - to make the story short, Alison was born almost nine months later, only a few weeks premature. I replaced the sample with another sample from an anonymous donor who is innocent of this plan so that undue suspicion wouldn't come if your sample was ever discovered missing - please fix this oversight if at all possible. I haven't as yet been able to make sure Alison inherited your ATA gene, but that's only because I haven't found a reason to bring a baby and Ancient technology to the Infirmary at the same time. Perhaps you will have better luck.

In case you don't believe my story, I encourage you to do a DNA check on Alison.

In case of my death, I've made arrangements for Alison to be kept for one month at my cousin's house in Colorado Springs. You should find her there. I beg you to take responsibility of her future care, even if that is assured only by you keeping her: she really is a sweet kid with your eyes and messy hair, though she tends to like staying up much later than she should. I wish her to be raised just like any normal kid, and kept safe from becoming nothing more than a lab experiment to groups like the NID. I'm truly sorry if this causes any kind of trouble for you, and I hereby absolve you from any wrongdoing pertaining in any way to Alison. Thank you.

Captain Andrea Blaley, SGC PS I've been telling Alison since she was born that if I have to go away for a long time, not to worry because Daddy's coming to take care of her, and oddly enough, I think she understands. She'll be expecting you.