My Name is Katie Jackson

By: Slidell


Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate...etc. etc. (In fact I don't own much). This is an outlet for the imagination...as always, my only payment is your reviews.

Spoilers: Most Likely, but this is AU future...ish. You'll see. If you've read my other stuff you know what I do and do not like. Saying anything else may give this away.

BTW: This came to me when I couldn't sleep the other night because of my birthday excitement. I'm still working on Torn and the Danni stories, and have a lot done, just not quite to publishing stage yet.


My name is Katie Jackson.

I haven't had what you'd call a normal life. It's been just me and my dad for as long as I can remember. I never met my mother. Dad's talked about her a few times; mostly when I'm so close to sleep I can't actually remember how much is what he has told me and how much I've made up to appease my own questions as I've drifted off. I've never even seen a picture of her. I try to imagine her though; take the pieces of me that don't match Dad, which are most all of them, and make a face. Dad's got gray hair, but I remember it used to be brown. Mom must have had dirty blond hair like mine, maybe paler. I think I got her eyes too, because they aren't blue like my father's. But I'll never be able to see her.

Mom died when I was born. I think Dad blames me. But he'd never say it if he did. And there are no pictures. Not even of us. Dad doesn't like memories of the living or the recently dead. Only those of peoples who died before our great-great-grandparents were even pondered by ancient philosophers.

If anything he's my best friend. My only friend. We've only ever had each other. At least that's what I thought.

I don't remember America, but that's where we're from. As far back as I can remember I've been living from dig site to dig site, village to village, and in small old towns with no marks on the map. I like it this way. We don't seem to belong anywhere, the two of us. But we belong to each other. Dad's taught me everything he knows. I speak over twenty languages, fluently. It comes in handy with our lifestyle. It makes it easier to move as often as we do. I know the histories of dozens upon dozens of cultures. I even know a little science; mostly astronomy. Dad and I still sit and watch the stars at night, judging the differences in star patterns from place to place, depending on the distance from the equator. I love the night's sky. Dad promised me he'd take me to see the aurora borealis one day.

You'd be surprised at the connections between the stars and ancient cultures, or maybe you wouldn't. Sometimes we run into other archaeologists who are amazed to meet my father. Something about his old theories. Everyone knows there's life….well, out there. Turns out my dad was just one of the people who had proof before the rest of the world. I asked him if that's what we're running from. Dad said, "Katie, we're not running from anything but ourselves."

I still don't know exactly what he meant by that.

I don't think Dad's ever going to take me to see the aurora borealis now. Not after what happened today.

This morning, three men came to the dig site we've been at for three months now. They wanted to speak to my father, but I could tell from their tone that something was wrong. All of them gave me the strangest looks when I told them my name. They were looking for something in my face. But most of all I couldn't figure out why the Air Force of the United States had sent three of its highest ranking officers to the middle-of-nowhere-South America to speak to my Dad (I was even more surprised when he seemed to know one of them). As soon as I led them to the small area we had been at for the day, he shooed me away. He was angry that they had spoken to me and told them not to approach me again. They had only asked to be taken to him, but he wouldn't let me explain. "Katie, go. Now." He warned. I tucked my tail under and fled up the steep incline of ruins.

I listened from around a small crumbled section after I doubled back. I think Dad realized I was there when he heard me whimper. I shouldn't have come back, much less have made my presence know, but you would have whimpered too if you had heard what I did.

The world is ending. And they want my dad to save it.

I couldn't see their faces, but I can only imagine. Dad sighed, and I heard his footsteps growing closer to my position.

"Dr. Jackson! We need you. You're the only one left who can stop this from happening. The world is going to end; for both you and…your daughter."

The man's pause confused me. But Dad took no time to form a reply of his own. "Our world ended eighteen years ago. No one saved us."


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