Author's Note: As I rewatched "Unending" today, I started to think about how this whole thing must have felt to Teal'c. Spoilers for "Unending", as well as minor ones for "A Matter of Time", "1969", and "A Window of Opportunity". Please review!
It is a most peculiar feeling.
I am standing at the base of the ramp that leads up to the Stargate, listening to Sergeant Harriman's usual chant of "Chevron one encoded…. Chevron two encoded." I am also listening to my teammates as they try to cajole me into revealing details of the last fifty years of our lives, of which they have no memory.
It is this feeling that gives me pause. I have witnessed similar phenomena over the course of my time on Earth. There was the time dilation that occurred as a result of the Stargate connecting to P3W-451, a world in the midst of being consumed by a black hole. Then there was the incident in which the rest of SG-1 and I were sent back in time to the year 1969. And there were the three months O'Neill and I spent repeating the same ten hours over and over.
But nothing has prepared me for spending fifty years confined to the Odyssey, watching my friends, my family grow old, watching General Landry die, all while I retained my relative strength and vitality. It was because of this that I felt obligated to volunteer to stay old when Colonel Carter explained her plan.
I will never forget what happened next.
I stand in the middle of a small cargo bay, not far from the room where the Asgard computer core is located. Colonel Carter has given me the crystal encoded with the program that will sever the connection between the core and the hyperdrive, the program that is essential for this plan to work.
A force shield activates, surrounding me. I hear Colonel Carter report readiness, and Colonel Mitchell give her the order to go ahead with the plan. Moments later, I hear a tremendous crash and see sections of the bulkhead paneling go flying past. Through the bluish haze of the shield I can see more explosions occur, running the length of the compartment. I know that Colonel Carter has said that I will be fine, yet I feel a moment's panic at the thought that my air will be taken by the vacuum of space in short order. Already the noise of the explosions is fainter, as the air in the compartment dissipates into the vacuum of space. For the briefest of moments, I am suspended in space, surrounded by the debris of one of the mightiest battle ships I have ever known.
Then, as suddenly as it has started, the chaos reverses itself. The pieces of bulkhead that have flown to various parts of the ship suddenly come flying back. Before my eyes, the room begins to reassemble itself. Almost faster than it was destroyed, the room is once again as it was. The force shield deactivates and I run to the core room. I am just in time to stop a now-young-again Colonel Carter from re-activating the time dilation field; instead I pass over the crystal her older self created that disengages the core from the hyperdrive. Not a moment too soon, we make our escape.
I suppose that I should not have been surprised that Vala Mal Doran is the one to constantly pester me about the last fifty years. Truthfully, I find her questions to be most amusing, especially as she persists in making erroneous predictions when I refuse to answer. Now, standing at the base of the ramp, she sounds distinctly miffed that I have shared information with Daniel Jackson regarding what he learned from the Asgard knowledge base. I cannot help but smile as I listen to Daniel Jackson begin to recite what I have shared with him, and the smile only grows as I hear each of my teammates chime in with their own additions.
Colonel Carter draws me out of my musings by noting, "As hard as it is for us not knowing, it must be torture for you not to tell us."
As I look at her, I cannot help but remember instances from the last five decades: our nightly dinners as a group; taking her lunch in the core room and keeping her company so that I was sure she would eat; comforting her when the loneliness became too much, and again when General Landry died; reciting some of O'Neill's jokes in the hopes of seeing her smile. It does not surprise me that she is the one who most understands how I feel.
"Indeed," I reply. The wormhole opens, and General Landry sends us on our way. As the five of us stride up the ramp, I am extremely grateful that events have played out as they have. Living side by side with these people for the last fifty years was truly an honor; one that I am glad I have the pleasure of experiencing again.
A most peculiar feeling, indeed.
A Most Peculiar Feeling