Mirror, Mirror

by denise1

A long series: Seeking refuge on an alien planet, Daniel finds more than he bargains for. An adventure that sets off a much longer one in a novel length AU adventure story

1. Chapter 1

Title- Mirror, Mirror: The Butterfly's Wing

Mirror, Mirror:

The Butterfly's Wing

By

Denise

Daniel ran down the corridor, his feet slapping the hard concrete floors. His breath rasped painfully in his throat and his heart pounded against his ribs. He heard the heavy footsteps behind him and he cringed, ducking his head down as he skidded around a corner, trying desperately not to lose his balance as he sought to get out of the line of fire.

A brilliant blast of orange exploded off the far wall, little bits of concrete flying through the air. He didn't feel it as some of the fragments scratched his face. Didn't notice the little droplets of blood that welled up. He didn't even notice that his glasses were scratched. None of that was going to matter if he couldn't get away.

He heard the footsteps clanging behind him just as he ducked around another corner, his hand going instinctively towards the pistol at his waist. Without even thinking, he raised and aimed the Beretta, squeezing off four shots into the chest and face of the Jaffa.

The Jaffa fell, a strangled gasp escaping from his ruined lips, blood spraying into the air. Grateful that he was alone, and well aware that he wouldn't be alone for long, Daniel spun on his heel, continuing his dash down the hall.

He heard shouting at his back and knew that the Jaffa had found their friend. Overhead the klaxons blared, screaming out a warning that Daniel figured few were left alive to hear.

The lights flickered and Daniel paused, cursing under his breath. "Damnit," he muttered. They must have reached the main breaker room. If they knew enough to cut the power, they'd cut the phones too.

They needed the phones, they needed to get word out and warn people. Presuming, of course, that the goa'uld were only using the gate to attack. Presuming that there was anyone left out there to warn.

A heavy bulk crashed into Daniel's side and he fell, landing awkwardly on his left hip. Desperately afraid, he raised his Beretta, his finger curling over the trigger. It took him three eternal seconds to realize that he wasn't staring at a Jaffa but Jack, his friend leaning against the wall. "Damnit, Daniel," he growled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting chased by Jaffa. You?" Daniel shot back, breathing heavily. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Jack confirmed, taking the opportunity to check his ammo and reload his MP-5. "Gateroom's gone, so are all the lower levels. The base is locked down." He looked up and met Daniel's eyes with his own grim gaze. "We got ships in orbit. NORAD tagged at least three before they lost their satellites."

"What are we going to do?"

"I'm gonna hold them off as long as I can," Jack said. "You need to get the hell out of here."

"Jack—"

"Don't," he interrupted. "Hammond's dead, so's Teal'c. I don't know about Carter but…Daniel, someone has to get out of here that knows what's going on. That knows what the goa'uld are and how to fight them. That's you."

"Jack—"

"Daniel. Go," Jack said, his tone and the look on his face stilling Daniel's argument. "Get your ass out of here." He glanced down the hall and looked back to Daniel. "The auto destruct's gonna go in five. Ya gotta get out of here."

"TAU'RI KREE!"

"DANIEL GO!" Jack yelled, looking at him one last time before he pushed off the wall and started down the hall, his weapon gripped tightly in his hands.

Daniel stared after him for a second, memorizing the sight of his friend as he took on the platoon of Jaffa, the sharp report of his weapon echoing off the walls and making it sound like Jack was leading the platoon rather than battling it.

Well aware that, no matter how great a warrior he was, Jack wouldn't last long, Daniel ducked down another corridor, his goal the evacuation shaft that he knew was just around the corner. The head of a staff weapon came into view and Daniel stopped, losing his balance. Desperately pushing himself to his feet, he pushed through a door, not caring what room he was entering, just knowing that he wouldn't survive more than a few minutes in the halls.

He shut the door behind him and stopped, sure that the harsh sound of his breathing would be audible to the Jaffa outside the door. The room was dark and he stood still, afraid that he would make a noise and alert the Jaffa to his presence.

Slowly his eyes adjusted and he stepped forward, recognizing where he was. The store room on level 18, the one they kept the stuff in that they didn't send to Area 51. He searched his memory, desperately trying to remember if there was something here that could help them. Some weapon or device or…His eyes settled on the irregularly shaped form of the quantum mirror. NO. Not that. That wouldn't help them. He didn't need that he needed a gun. A laser, something to help Jack. Something to help Earth. Something…

A deep, low roar rumbled up from the floor. The walls started to shake and rattle. In an instant Daniel knew what it was. Knew it what was happening. Knew that he was dead.

Without even realizing what he was doing, he reached out, his fingers splayed across the smooth, cool surface of the mirror.

XXXXXXXXXX

"The mining operation on P3R636 is going well," Lieutenant Colonel Albert Samuels briefed his commanding officer. "There was some initial resistance, but once we made an example of Pyrus, his daughter chose to cooperate." He looked up from the sheaf of papers in his hand. "It's estimated that we can clear a ton a week."

"A ton a week?" General Gordon Bauer asked, studying his printed out copy of the report. "There are mines here on Earth that produce that much ore in a minute."

"This mine IS nearly depleted," Samuels said. "That was the reason the Goa'uld abandoned it. Once we're sure the conventional mine is played out, Colonel Edwards is working on a plan to start strip mining on the planet. His geologist is confident that there are more veins of naqahdah there. They're just going to need a more aggressive approach."

"I want a detailed cost analysis before we start moving in the heavy equipment," Bauer said.

"We do need the naqahdah, sir," Samuels reminded, giving Bauer a sharp look.

"I agree. But I see no need to spend millions on equipment if we can't be guaranteed of a decent return on the investment. Right now, with the slave labor from the planet, the overhead is low. But heavy equipment will require trained workers and that costs money."

"Yes, sir," Samuels replied, his tone conciliatory.

"What's the latest on our guest?"

"He's proving difficult," Samuels said. "Unfortunately, Yu's age and experience gives him a particular resistance to our interrogation techniques. He's well aware that we can't kill him. Any injuries that we inflict are quickly healed by his goa'uld. Which also renders inert every chemical encouragement we deliver."

Bauer sighed. "This is not what I wanted to hear."

"I'm well aware of that, sir. Colonel Kennedy is hopeful that some of the devices we recovered from P9R427 can be of use."

"Kennedy's people have been playing with that Machello's stuff for almost a year and still haven't gotten any of it to work," Bauer dismissed.

"I'm aware of that, sir," Samuels said.

"Keep Yu alive," Bauer ordered. "Even if we can't get any decent intel from him, we might be able to trade him for something. How is Seth's interrogation progressing?" he asked, referring to their other goa'uld captive.

"Much the same. He's been on Earth so long that his galactic intel is non-existent. However he has been a bit more forthcoming about explaining goa'uld technology. When he's properly motivated that is," he finished wryly.

"Motivated?"

"After a few hundred years as a cult leader, Seth has developed some rather…eclectic tastes. Very Earth-bound and easy to procure." Bauer nodded. "His food requirements are a bit expensive but doable. They have had a bit more trouble fulfilling his sexual preferences." Bauer shot him a look. "Seth treats females as disposable. On the up side we do seem to finally have a hold over him. I think it's rather ironic that we can't beat, starve or drug him, but he'll do about anything to get his hands on a woman. Fortunately for us, Las Vegas has a near inexhaustible supply of prostitutes that no one will miss."

Bauer nodded, scanning the papers once again. "You're worried about the President, aren't you?" Samuels asked.

"We definitively haven't made enough advances to keep President Kinsey happy. It's been months since we've brought back any reliable technology."

"There are only so many planets out there. Surely the President understands that?"

Bauer shook his head. "What he understands is that we have a race of beings out there that are just waiting to invade us and that we seem unable to gather enough tech to protect ourselves." He sighed. "If we can't turn this around, he'll send in his own people."

"We'll find something. The computer kicks out more addresses each week. Doctor Lee is working on that shield device we recovered from P3X513 and recovery efforts are going well on P363Q1. Once we destroyed those giant bugs, the planet was ours for the picking."

Bauer got to his feet. "It's too slow. It's a matter of time before Nirti, Cronos and Apophis get tired of fighting amongst themselves and come here. We HAVE to be ready."

He stepped out from behind his desk and looked out the window of his office, his eyes settling on the Stargate, just barely visible through the briefing room window. President Kinsey was right, as much as it pained him to admit it. The Stargate was a Pandora's Box of hope and terror, and now that it was opened, it could never be closed.

And since they couldn't close it, they needed to do everything they could to protect Earth. Earth was the priority, just as it always should have been.

"The Orbanian nanites are showing great promise," Samuels said, getting to his feet. "We know that they can absorb and transfer huge quantities of data. All we need to do is find a way adjust it to work better with the human physiology. The last report I received from Nellis said that the Orbanian trials were going well and that they hoped to move onto human subjects within the month."

Gordon nodded, his next words dying unspoken when the quiet of his office was shattered by the blare of the intruder alert klaxon. Abandoning their meeting, Gordon pulled open the door to his office and strode across the empty briefing room, Samuels hard on his heels.

He walked quickly down the stairs, his eyes darting towards the Stargate. The giant stone ring was quiet, the far wall visible through its hollow center. This made no sense, how could there be an intruder alert be triggered when the gate was quiet? Unless there was a ship. But no, he would have been notified via the red phone. "Report!" he barked.

"The alert came from level seventeen," the sergeant reported. "Security teams are on their way."

"Lockdown the base," Bauer ordered. "Did NORAD see anything?"

"Nothing, sir," the sergeant said. "The skies are clear."

The phone rang and Samuels answered it. He listened intently for a few seconds then lowered the phone, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. "Sir, security reports that they've apprehended a single male. He was unarmed and coming out of one of the store rooms."

"Nothing else?"

"No, sir. There's no other disturbance anywhere else."

Bauer sighed, grateful that the crisis appeared to be over, or at least contained. "Maintain the lockdown. Confine the intruder to the brig." He looked at Samuels. "I want him fully interrogated. I need to know how the hell an intruder got this deep into our facility."

"Yes, sir." Samuels turned and left the room, intent on following his orders.

"Tell security that I want a sweep of the base," Bauer ordered. "Level by level, room by room. Chances are this guy is alone but I want to make sure."

"Yes, sir." The sergeant picked up the phone to fulfill Gordon's request and Gordon turned on his heel, retreating back to his office. Hopefully the search would come up empty. And, equally hopefully, this man would turn out to be nothing more than someone with more curiosity than sense, or maybe one of the female personnel sneaking her boyfriend in for a quickie. If it was something simple like that then maybe he could get by without having to report the breach to the president.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Take it easy," Daniel complained, struggling a bit as the two guards manhandled him into the holding room. They pushed him across the room and guided him to sit down in a rather uncomfortable if sturdy chair. "Hey!" he called out as they turned to leave him. "Are the cuffs necessary?"

He held up his bound hands, grateful that they'd at least bound his hands in the front and not the back. He hated when they were cuffed behind him. It was hell on the shoulders. Predictably, they ignored him and closed the door, leaving him behind.

Alone, and knowing that he wouldn't stay that way for long, Daniel sighed, grateful for the opportunity to gather his thoughts. This had to be an alternate universe; it was the only explanation that made sense.

Despite himself, his mind went back to just a few minutes before. They were dead, they had to be dead. His throat tightened and he swallowed, fighting the tears that pricked at his eyes. He couldn't do this, not now.

If his experience with Jack had taught him nothing else it was that they'd be in soon to interrogate him and he couldn't afford any sign of weakness. He didn't kid himself that he could go back. The mirror would probably work, but he doubted that he had anywhere to go back to. The mirror was probably like the Stargate, buried under tons and tons of rubble.

And if he was stuck here, he'd need to live here. And he'd need to convince this SGC that they needed a Daniel Jackson – presuming that they didn't already have one. If they did then…maybe they'd let him go and he could find somewhere else to live. Pick a new name, he'd have to do that. There couldn't be two Daniel Jacksons in a world, that would draw too much attention.

He'd have to find a new job too. He'd run into too many people he knew in the archaeological field. Maybe plain old teaching. That would be good. It'd be a nice change, something a bit more positive and upbeat. Maybe he could even forget that there were creatures out there that—

The door opened and Daniel jerked his attention away from his own thoughts and to the present. The future could wait. First things first, and first he had to convince them not to shoot him.

A man walked in and Daniel frowned, struggling to recognize him. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" the man asked, standing across the table from Daniel.

Daniel's eyes narrowed in on the nametag on his uniform, the last name giving him all the information he needed. "Major Samuels," he said. "This wasn't quite what I was expecting."

"Actually, it's Lieutenant Colonel, and who the hell are you?" he asked, leaning against one of the chairs.

"Umm, my name is Daniel Jackson and I know what you're going to say," Daniel said, seeing the skeptical look on the man's face. "But I need you to listen to me. It will all make sense in the end."

Samuels shrugged and leaned back. "Ok, I'm listening."

"There's this theory. Every time a person makes a decision there's this alternate reality that splits off. Like, let's say that when you made the decision to join the Air Force, somewhere, sometime there's another Lieutenant Colonel Samuels that didn't join the Air Force. So there's a reality out there where you're a civilian and—"

"What does this have to do with you being in our base?" Samuels interrupted.

"There are devices that allow people to go between dimensions," Daniel said, tamping down his irritation. The theory was hard enough to explain, even harder when the skeptic wouldn't let him finish the story.

"And we have one of those here?" Samuels said, smiling patronizingly.

"Obviously," Daniel said. "Or I wouldn't be here."

"Or, let me run this one past you. One of our female personnel got a little lonely and abused her access – and our trust – to bring you in here for a little…recreation."

"Please." Daniel rolled his eyes. "Two years ago, on a planet called P3R233, did you find a whole room full of things. Stuff you couldn't figure out." Samuels' eyes narrowed, confirming the truth to Daniel. "Now in our universe, we, well I, touched the mirror and I found myself in an alternate universe. This universe was under attack by the goa'uld and I barely managed to get back to my own universe before that Earth was invaded."

"Invaded?" Samuels asked, leaning forward. "How?"

"The usual way the goa'uld attack," Daniel said. "By air and through the gate."

"How did you escape?"

"The goa'uld are only able to sustain a gate for thirty-eight minutes. As soon as the gate closed, we dialed out and I managed to return to P3R233 and get back through the mirror to my own universe."

"Let me see if I get this straight. This is the second time you've been to an alternate universe and the first time your arrival heralded a goa'uld attack?" Samuels asked pointedly.

"Well, yeah but…wait a minute, you're not—" Samuels raised his eyebrows, answering silently. "Look, is Colonel O'Neill here? Or Major Carter or Teal'c?" The door opened and an airman walked in, silently handing Samuels a piece of paper. "If I could just talk to one of them I'm sure we could clear all this—"

"You were on SG-1?" Samuels interrupted.

"Still am. Where are they? Are they on a mission? If I could just talk to Sam, she gets this whole alternate universe stuff and—"

"SG-1 is dead," Samuels interrupted.

"Dead?"

"They're MIA, presumed KIA over a year ago on a mission." Samuels sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Anything else you'd like to ask for?"

Daniel sighed and closed his eyes. He raised his hands and scrubbed them over his face, taking a moment to collect himself. "Ok," he said after a second. "Another difference. That's to be expected. I just wasn't thinking it'd be so big. Umm…Look, I can't prove this to you. I can't prove that there are alternate universes, I can't prove that I am Daniel Jackson and I certainly can't prove that I'm not bringing on a goa'uld attack but—"

"You said you came through a mirror?" Samuels interrupted.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, that big one in the store room."

"And it leads back to your universe?"

"It does but you don't want to go there. They set off the self-destruct right before I came through. There's nothing left. If I thought there was something left I'd go back. With any luck, the SGC is one giant hole in the ground."

"How many of these alternate universes do you think there are?" Samuels asked, ignoring Daniel's words.

"Thousands, millions maybe. We really don't know."

"And you know how to navigate these universes."

"In theory," Daniel said, struggling to keep up with the abrupt change in Samuels' demeanor. Previously he'd been smug and patronizing. Now he seemed interested, almost eager. "Although we've never considered exploring alternate universes. The danger is too great."

"Danger?"

"Not every universe is a good place. Some are overrun with goa'uld, some are…pick a scenario," Daniel said, looking Samuels in the eyes. "Any scenario, literally. According to Sam, somewhere out there is a universe where Earth still has dinosaurs, or where the goa'uld never left three thousand years ago or where the Bay of Pigs ended quite differently. It's too dangerous to play with."

"I see," Samuels said, getting to his feet. "Well, before I can begin to believe your story I need to verify who you are." He walked to the door and pulled it open. "Take this person to the infirmary. I'm going to call Doctor Frasier and tell her what tests to run," he ordered the airman. He looked Daniel in the eyes. "You will submit to these tests or you will be rendered unconscious for the duration. Presuming that these tests prove that you are who you say you are, we will discuss matters further at that time."

He left the room and Daniel got to his feet, very aware that if he wanted them to believe him he needed to start earning their trust. And he wasn't going to be able to do that if he fought them. Besides, it was kind of stupid to fight folks that were trained to kill you with their bare hands.

Daniel let them lead him out of the holding room and towards the elevators. He played back Samuel's words. SG-1 is dead. He hadn't thought of that. For some reason, it'd never crossed his mind that all his friends would be dead. Not that he'd had much time to think before touching the mirror, but during those few minutes while he waited for the security forces to come and get him, it'd never occurred to him that they'd be dead.

He wanted to know how they died. What close call was too close, where they'd screwed up. At least Janet was still alive. Maybe he could find something out from her.

In a few minutes, they entered the infirmary, a room Daniel was grateful to see looked just like the one from his universe. Janet was standing in one corner, her back to the door and a phone to her ear. "Doc?" one of his escorts said.

Janet turned, nodding her acknowledgement. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of it." She hung up the phone and walked over to Daniel, narrowing her eyes as she got closer. "You cut your hair," she said.

"Yeah, the long hair was a real pain in the ass," Daniel said, heartened a bit by her welcoming demeanor.

"I can imagine." She motioned towards one of the beds. "Over there please." Daniel followed her direction and made his way over to the bed, struggling a bit to hop up with his hands still bound in front of him. "Take off the cuffs, sergeant."

"Ma'am, he's an intruder and—"

"And I can't follow my orders and do a thorough examination with his hands tied," she said. "Take off the cuffs and wait at the door."

The man followed her orders, reaching in his pocket to pull out a key. Daniel held up his hands, grateful when the cuffs fell away. The sergeant retreated and Daniel instinctively rubbed his wrists, seeking to massage the pinched skin.

"Take off your shirt."

Daniel looked up, staring at her. "Excuse me?"

"I need a blood sample. Take off your shirt," Frasier ordered, rolling a small table towards him. Daniel recognized the rubber tourniquet and phlebotomy tools.

"Right," he said, realizing that she needed him to remove his heavy fatigue shirt so that she could get at his bare arm. He unbuttoned it as she pulled on her rubber gloves. "So, umm, been here long?" he asked, holding out his arm. She looked up at him, her gaze skeptical. "I'm just curious. This universe is a bit different from mine."

"I've been stationed at the SGC for two years now," she said softly, expertly swabbing the crook of his elbow.

"That's about the same as my Janet. She transferred here just before we visited P3X797. I think it's safe to say that without her we'd have died several times over." Frasier nodded non-comittaly. "How's Cassie?"

She looked up, frowning. "Who?"

"Umm, Cassandra. She was the sole survivor of P8X987. My Janet adopted her."

"Hanka?" Frasier asked, sliding the needle out of Daniel's arm and placing a cotton ball over the tiny wound.

"Yeah. Nirti poisoned the whole planet. Over 1400 people died, including SG-7. Cassandra was the sole survivor."

Frasier shook her head. "There were no survivors amongst the indigenous personnel. Once we realized that we'd lost the whole team, the planet was abandoned."

"You never looked for survivors?"

"There was nothing but corpses. We didn't even recover SG-7's bodies, the risk of contamination was too great."

"You left her there?" Daniel asked, horrified at the idea. God, they'd left Cassie behind? Trapped on that planet with no one but the bodies of her friends and family around her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We didn't leave anyone on Hanka. There was no one alive there. We sent a MALP and two UAV's and they didn't pick up a single life sign."

"They didn't look hard enough," Daniel muttered. The ramifications overwhelmed him, the thought of Cassie being left behind to die enough to make him sick. The horrible part was, she could probably survive for a while. She was immune to the disease and there was plenty of food and water. With only one person eating it, Cassie could have survived for months probably. Of course, the food was in the village, which was also where all the bodies were. So she probably faced the choice, stay in her home and with the dead where all the food and shelter was, or she could leave all that and find somewhere better…all alone. All by herself.

"We need to run an MRI," Janet said, breaking into his thoughts. "When you're done with that, I should have the preliminary test results back and we can continue with the physical."

Daniel nodded, clinging to Frasier's calm tone to rein in his own sense of horror. "Fine," he said. He was stuck here and he had to play the game. And the only way to do that was to let them start believing him.

She waved the airmen over. "Take him to the MRI, Sergeant. Doctor Warner knows to expect him." She turned back to Daniel. "I trust you're not going to resist?" Daniel shook his head. "Good. The physical will take longer if I have to patch you up as well."

Daniel slid off the bed and followed the two guards out of the room. He let them lead him to the MRI room, knowing that it probably wouldn't help his case if he let them know that, despite the fact that he was a stranger here, he knew exactly where to go.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Take him over there," Janet ordered, barely looking up from the man she was working on. She turned her attention back to her patient, deftly tilting his head back to insert the endotrachial tube. "I'm in," she said, stepping back so that Nurse Rush could attach the ambu bag.

"Heartbeat's stabilizing."

"Get him down to x-ray," Janet ordered. "Doctor Macey's going to need a set of chest films before he can operate."

"Yes, ma'am."

The orderlies hurried to carry out her orders while Janet stripped off her gloves, tossing them into the red biohazard container before pulling another pair out of a box and moving onto the next patient. She glanced around the room, trying not to let the sight of a room full of injured people overwhelm her. Every bed was full, some of the injuries were minor, glancing burns or something as simple as cuts and bruises caused by hand-to-hand combat.

But others were much more severe. Captain Epps was already in surgery and it looked like he'd lose his leg, a close and direct blast from a staff weapon having destroyed a huge chunk of it. In fact, if it wasn't for the cauterizing effect of the staff weapon, he'd be dead right now.

"What happened?"

Janet turned, remembering her other medical issue of the day. "Doctor Jackson, I'm sorry I kind of forgot all about you," she apologized.

"I can see why," he said. "It looks like you have your hands full. What happened?"

"SG-3, 5, 6 and 9 were on a mission. It didn't turn out so well," she said. "I'm not going to have time to finish your physical at the moment." She turned to the airmen. "Return Doctor Jackson to his cell. I'll send for him later."

"Yeah, of course," he said. "I understand."

He started to leave the room then stopped, stepping aside as two more guards walked in, escorting another person. "Damnit," Janet muttered. "I didn't send for her," she said, walking forward.

"General Bauer's orders, ma'am," the escort said.

"I thought you said they were dead?" Jackson demanded, moving away from his escorts. He was quickly restrained while the other two escorts blocked Janet's way, standing between her and their charge.

"We don't need her here," Janet said. "Things are under control."

"That's not what the general says, ma'am."

Ignoring the conversation and protests a slim figure moved amongst the beds, her gaze riveted upon the resting figures. Silently, she raised her hand, holding it over Lieutenant Quinn.

"Let me go!" Jackson struggled ineffectually.

"Get him out of here," Janet ordered. "I'll send for him later."

"No! Don't—" The guards dragged Jackson out of the infirmary and Janet turned her attention back to the guards.

"You can wait at the door," she said.

"Ma'am—"

"I can't stop her but I will not have you getting in the way. You will wait outside. It's not like she's going anywhere."

The guard sighed and stared at her for a second, seemingly to contemplate whether or not to challenge her. Finally, he nodded, motioning for his companion to join him outside.

The second they were gone, Janet relaxed slightly, her eyes settling on the woman. The device in her hand snapped off, the golden beam fading. She stood beside the bed for a second, the fingers of her free hand digging into the bedclothes before she took a breath and moved away, making her way over to the next bed.

Janet watched her, knowing that she was witnessing a miracle, and a tragedy all at the same time. And all too aware that she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Twelve steps. That's how far it was from one side of his cell to the other. Twelve steps. Daniel spun on his heel and paced across the tiny space, the exertion doing little to abate his nervous energy.

The two guards outside the door ignored him, just like they'd done since they'd pushed him into this room over an hour ago. He hated this, hated being in here. He couldn't get the answers he so desperately needed in this room.

Sam. He knew he'd seen her, but she hadn't seem to have recognized him. There was something strange about her too. She seemed not to see much of anything. He was glad to see her alive, incredibly thrilled to find a familiar face. But he still had the feeling that something was wrong. She was using the healing device, which was something he'd only seen his Sam do once, when she'd healed Cronos. He knew that she'd practiced with it a few time, but that she didn't like to use it, didn't like how it made her feel.

He felt a tiny bit of hope too. Just because SG-1 was dead, maybe it wasn't HIS SG-1. Maybe Jack and Teal'c were around here too.

The door opened and Daniel stopped pacing. Guard one walked in and Daniel stood still, stepping back as the man unlocked the door. "What's going on?"

"You're going back to the infirmary," he said, reaching for his waist and the cuffs dangling from his belt.

"I'll behave," Daniel promised, holding up his hands. The guard looked at him skeptically. "I promise."

He nodded and stepped back, obviously willing to let Daniel exit unrestrained but not trusting him enough to get close. Daniel walked out into the hall and made his way towards the infirmary, his two guards trailing him.

The room was quieter now, most of the beds empty and stripped of their used linens. An injured officer lay in one bed, hooked up to monitors and a far bed was shrouded, the privacy curtains drawn. "There you are," Frasier said, stepping out of her office. She pointed towards one of the empty beds. "If you would." Daniel followed her direction, hopping up on one the bed. "I need you to take off your shirt."

"What happened?" he asked, something telling him to keep his voice low. She looked at him. "Samuels told me that SG-1 was dead."

"They are."

Daniel shook his head. "Sam. I saw her. And she most definitely wasn't dead."

"Captain Carter's not on SG-1," she said evenly.

"Well, then—"

"Have you finished the exam yet?"

Colonel Samuels voice cut across the room and Daniel watched Frasier jump, an expression that he could only describe as fear fitting across her face. "We were just starting, sir," she said, glancing at him. "The events of this afternoon put me a bit behind schedule"

"I see," he said, coming to stand at her side. He looked over at the occupied bed. "Why is Captain Miller still here?"

"His condition—"

"His condition should have been taken care of by now."

"There were a lot of wounded, sir," she said, her tone now defensive.

"I didn't come down here for excuses."

"Colonel, with all due respect, she did all she could."

"She didn't do enough. Where is she?"

"Colonel—"

"Captain," he interrupted. "Where is she?"

Frasier looked over towards the shrouded bed and Samuels walked past her. "Sir, she's in no condition to—"

He ignored her and yanked back the curtains, revealing Sam lying on the bed. Daniel joined them, almost drawn to the sight of his friend. She was lying on top of the covers, a blanket drawn over her supine form. She looked familiar but different. Her face was more angular and her hair was longer than he was used to, spilling softly across the pillow. Daniel also thought she looked tired and worn out.

Samuels reached out and shook Sam, doing his best to wake her up. "Colonel!" Frasier protested. "She's not asleep, she's unconscious. You can shake her all week and she won't wake up."

"Would a stimulant work?" he asked.

"No." Frasier crossed her arms across her chest. "It'll be twelve to twenty-four hours before she's awake. No drug I can give her will change that."

Samuels glared at her. "And what am I supposed to tell Captain Miller when he wakes up and wants to know why he's still here?"

"That he's alive and that he's going to stay that way and he'll just have to be a little inconvenienced for the next few days," she said, her tone cold. "She can't help him if she's dead. And if you force her to heal him before she's fully regained her strength, she will die. And that's not going to help the general's casualty figures."

Daniel watched the exchange, the horror of their words sinking in. "That's what she was doing?" he asked, drawing attention to himself. "Healing people?" Samuels turned, obviously forgetting that Daniel had been in the room. "She's a person, not a walking sarcophagus."

"I don't know what universe you came from, Doctor, but here we make full use of all our resources to protect Earth from the goa'uld. And Carter is a rather valuable resource," he said.

"She's a person!" Daniel protested.

Samuels glared at him then turned to Frasier. "The second she's able, I need Miller healed. We have another mission scheduled Friday and we need every able body."

He stalked from the room and Daniel looked after him, waiting until he was gone before turning back to Frasier. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I have a funny feeling that our universes are more different than you think," she said softly.

He waited while she checked Sam's pulse before laying her arm back down on the bed. She fussed with the blankets for a few seconds then motioned for Daniel to follow her. He walked away from the bed and Frasier drew the curtains, again shrouding the bed from the rest of the room.

He returned to his bed and hopped up on it, unbuttoning his shirt like he'd been doing before Samuels had walked into the room. "A little over a year ago, there was a mission to a planet called Nasyia," Frasier said.

Daniel nodded. "We had that too. The goa'uld invaded the planet and we evacuated the people. Sam got blended with a Tok'ra named Jolinar and brought it back to Earth. It took us a couple of days to figure it out. By then the Ashrak knew where she was. It attacked them and killed Jolinar, almost killed Sam too."

Frasier nodded. "That's pretty much what happened here. After the symbiote was killed, Captain Carter had a mental breakdown. After several days with no change in her condition, she was transferred to a care facility."

Daniel shook his head. "That never happened. Sam had…issues. But she snapped out of it. Cassie actually had a lot to do with it."

"Cassie?"

"The girl from Hanka. My Janet adopted her. Cassie and Sam had this connection and…Sam was back on duty in about a month or so."

Frasier looked behind her, as if she was checking for eavesdroppers. "Captain Carter vanished from the care facility about a week after she was admitted. No one had any idea where she was taken to. Three months ago she was transferred back here."

There was something odd in the tone of her voice and Daniel studied her, looking closely, searching her expressions for a clue. "Something happened to her, didn't it?"

"Officially? Nothing."

"Unofficially?"

Frasier paused and Daniel was afraid that he'd pushed too hard. "She doesn't talk," she finally said. "She lives on base in one of the holding cells. They escort her everywhere and…there are times when I wonder just how much she comprehends," she said.

"What do you think?"

"She's not fit for duty, not by a long shot."

"Then why is she here?"

"General Bauer has a rule. The injured only 'count' if they stay the night or are irreparably maimed." She looked him in the eyes, her unspoken message clear.

"He's using Sam to hide how many people he's losing?" he asked, horrified.

She nodded. "What happened to General Hammond?"

"General Hammond died over a year ago. General Bauer is the commander of the base now. Every raid he sends them on is a high risk mission. I know that the only thing Captain Carter does here is heal people. And I know that they're going to keep using her until they kill her."

While she talked, she took his blood pressure and temperature, writing down her findings on a chart. "How do you mean?"

"It takes her longer every time," she said. "And it takes more out of her. It's like every time she heals someone she gives up a piece of her life to do so."

"And eventually she's going to run out of pieces to give away."

Frasier nodded. One of the nurses walked in and handed her a piece of paper. "Thank you." She read it and looked up at Daniel. "Well, I'm sure you're not surprised to discover that, genetically anyway, you are Doctor Daniel Jackson."

"Not really, no."

"I didn't think so. Now that we know that you're not a goa'uld and that you are who you say you are, Colonel Samuels wants to talk to you."

"So, we're done?" he asked. He was expecting a complete physical, but she'd barely gotten beyond the basics.

"Yeah, we're done." She waved the two guards back into the room. "You better not keep the colonel waiting. He's not a patient man."

"Thanks," Daniel said.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel followed his escorts, realizing in just a few minutes that they were leading him down to the briefing room. As he walked, Frasier's words replayed in his brain.

"I know that every raid they go on is a high risk mission. I know that the only thing Captain Carter does here is heal people. And I know that they're going to keep using her until they kill her."

This reality was different from his own, and he had a bad feeling that he was just beginning to find out HOW different. Now that he was looking for it, he noticed a difference in attitudes of the people. Everyone seemed tenser, more on edge than at his SGC. At first, he'd just attributed it to the difference in leadership. He had yet to meet the man, but General Bauer was certainly not General Hammond. The simple fact that Samuels was here spoke volumes. He remembered Jack telling him that the first thing Hammond had done when he'd taken over was to transfer Samuels after discovering that their leadership styles were not going to be a good match.

The high-risk missions also puzzled him. Yes, theoretically every mission the SGC went on was a risk, but General Hammond strongly believed in not risking lives unnecessarily. A trait that Daniel didn't think General Bauer shared.

They arrived in the briefing room and Daniel stopped, frowning at the sight of the mirror standing in the corner of the room. "Ah, Doctor Jackson, so glad you could join us," Samuels said. He walked towards Daniel, an alien device held in his hand. Daniel recognized it as one of the many things he'd seen on P3R233. Things he'd left behind in his reality.

"Colonel Samuels. What's going on?"

"It was time for us to have a little talk," Samuels said, gesturing towards one of the chairs. Daniel took a seat, cautiously looking around. The blast door was closed and the general's office was empty, leaving Daniel alone with Samuels and the two guards, both of which retreated to take up station by the two stairwells leading down to the control room.

Samuels set the item he was holding back on the table and motioned towards the mirror. "This is what you came through, right?" he asked.

"So, you believe me now?"

Samuels shrugged. "Doctor Frasier has verified your identity. Genetically you are Doctor Jackson. Which leaves me two possibilities. Either you're our Daniel Jackson who's somehow found his way back from the alien planet he was lost on, or you're from an alternate reality. Shockingly enough, the latter seems the most likely."

"Where were they lost?" Daniel asked, curious about his alter ego's demise.

"Some mission. They ran afoul of the local authorities and were imprisoned. Or so they say," Samuels said in response to Daniel's harsh look. "We attempted a recovery, it failed, and they were lost. Now, about this mirror," he said, changing subjects quickly. "You said that you'd been to an alternate reality before."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. I seem to have a knack for it."

"And you were with the team that recovered this device." He motioned towards the mirror.

"Yeah," Daniel said cautiously.

"So, you know how to work it."

"In theory. Why do you need to work it? I can't go back to my own reality, it was over run by goa'uld."

"But there are others," Samuels pressed.

"A near limitless amount," Daniel said slowly. "Every time someone makes a decision another reality is created but--"

"Then this could be Earth's salvation," Samuels interrupted.

"Salvation from what?"

"From the Goa'uld of course." Samuels walked over and stood in front of Daniel. "You see, Doctor Jackson, one of the greatest obstacles of this commands is the primitive state of the races it finds. The ones that are friendly have nothing that will help us protect ourselves and the ones that do have the technology aren't interested in sharing."

"So?" Daniel asked. "We have…had that same issue in my reality."

Samuels smiled. "Which is the beauty of my idea." He motioned at the devices lying on the table. "Which one is the controller for this mirror?"

"Controller?"

"My people have been all over this mirror and they can't get the image in it to change. Doctor Lee's theory is that it has a controller, something that allows you to choose realities. Which one of these devices is it?"

Daniel stared at him, the implications of his words sinking in. "You're going to raid other realities," he said. "Take from them what you couldn't get here."

"I'm doing what I can to rectify an untenable situation."

"You can't do this," Daniel protested.

"I can and I will. Don't worry, Doctor Jackson. I won't ask you to compromise your precious morals, just tell us which of these objects is the controller and my scientists will take it from there."

Daniel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "No."

"Excuse me?"

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not going to let you destroy other realities like you've destroyed yours."

"It's yours too now," Samuels said, staring at Daniel, his eyes cold and narrow. "Is there a reason you're so reluctant to try and save it?"

"There are better ways to do it than to steal technology from other people!" Daniel said, getting to his feet.

"I don't care about the other people," Samuels said, moving to stand just inches from him. "I care about my planet. Do you?" he asked pointedly.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"You said the last reality you visited was shortly thereafter attacked by the Goa'uld."

"So?"

"I wonder how that attack came to be?"

"The Goa'uld attacked from orbit, executing a plan they'd put into place months before. I arrived just hours before the attack," Daniel said.

"And yet, you survived."

"What the hell are you implying?"

Samuels shrugged. "Just pointing out a coincidence is all," he said smoothly. "Because there's no way you'd be a Goa'uld sympathizer, now is there?"

Daniel stared, astonished by the man's bizarre leap in logic. Just because he wouldn't help, he was working for the enemy? It made absolutely no sense at all…"Unless you're trying to goad me into doing what you want," he said out loud. "Shame me into telling you what you need to know."

"I'm just pointing out a different point of view," Samuels said.

"I'm not going to tell you which of these devices is the controller. I'm not even going to tell you IF you have the controller here. I am not going to let you raid and attack other realities just so that you can steal technology from other races," Daniel said.

"Somehow, I knew you were going to say that," Samuels said. He stepped back and motioned at the guards. "Take him to the holding cell on Level 23. And tell Sergeant Ratner that his assignment is a go." Samuels stared at Daniel and Daniel felt his stomach twist at the determined and cold look in his eyes. "You'll like Ratner," Samuels said. "He learned from the best, and he's very good at his job." The two guards came forth, each grabbing one of Daniel's arms. "The sooner you cooperate, the greater the chances you'll survive the experience," Samuels said, his voice following Daniel down the hall as he was dragged away.

XXXXXXXXXX

Janet hurried down the corridor, casting a wary eye at the camera in the corner. "Don't worry, doc. Matheson has our six," Siler reassured her.

"I hope so," she muttered, cursing her noisy heels. She knew that it might make her look like a coward, but while a part of her needed to do this, another part was more than a little afraid of the consequences.

"Doc? We can go back," he offered, turning to look at her.

She shook her head, taking a steadying breath. "We have to do this. I just want to make sure I have enough time to get it done."

"And stay off their radar," Siler said.

"Pretty chickenshit huh?"

"Hey, you can't help people if you're in the cell with them." As he talked he led them down a dimly lit hall to the last room. Janet knew that the room was secluded and the reason for that made her sick.

"This is one time that Samuels' paranoia is in our favor," he said, pulling a small ring of keys out of his pocket. "He did away with the key cards in some places so that he wouldn't leave a paper trail."

"Which means we won't leave one either," Janet said, her hand gripping her bag tightly.

Siler nodded, selecting a key and shoving it into the lock. "March is going to page me as soon as they're out of their meeting," he said. Janet knew that they wouldn't have long, maybe an hour before Samuels and Kinsey got out of their meeting. She could only hope that it was enough time.

Siler pushed the door open and she followed him, wrinkling her nose at the smell. The room was mostly empty, a table cluttered with alien artifacts sat against one wall. In the center of the room was a chair and a small table. Janet's gaze skittered across the items on the smaller table, her stomach turning when she saw that most of them were smeared with blood.

Daniel Jackson was slumped in the chair, his arms bound to the arms of the chair while heavy plastic ties secured his ankles to the legs. His head hung over his chest, casting his face into shadow. His t-shirt was torn and ripped and she knew that only the black color of the shirt was disguising the fact that it was stiff and stained with blood.

"Damn," Siler muttered, carefully closing the door. "Is he dead?"

Janet knelt beside Jackson, reaching out to check his pulse. "Not yet," she said, feeling the vein flutter under her fingertips. "I need him out of this chair."

"We don't have time for that."

"Do you want me to help him or not?"

"Can't you do that without us moving him?"

"No." She looked up at him. "I need to examine him and I can't do it with him tied to this chair."

Siler sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small knife. "This is point of no return, doc," he warned. "We undo those ties and they'll know we were here."

"I know," she said, well aware of the line that they were crossing. He shrugged and applied himself to his task, making quick work of the ties. "Lay him down," she ordered as soon as Jackson was free. "Good lord," she muttered as Siler helped her lay Jackson out on the floor, the overhead lighting revealing all his injuries.

His face was battered and bruised, one eye swollen shut. The other cheek was split open, a thick stream of dried blood trailing down his chin and neck. Both wrists were bruised and abraded, from struggling against the restraints she thought.

She pulled the penlight out of her pocket and checked his pupils, relieved to find them responding relatively normally. "No concussion," she said. "Or if he has one, it's a mild one."

"That's good, right?"

"Maybe." Janet pulled up Jackson's t-shirt, gasping softly at the sight of deep bruises marring his chest and abdomen. "It's also the least of our worries."

"Ratner loves his work," Siler muttered while Janet explored Jackson's chest, her fingers finding maybe one broken rib. She moved lower, cursing softly when she encountered a particularly ominous looking bruise. "It's bad, ain't it?"

"I can't patch this up," she said, looking up at Siler. "Not without a couple of hours of surgery."

"Surgery?"

"He's bleeding internally, I'm betting his spleen is ruptured. He's gonna die."

"So maybe we just put him back in the chair and you give him something to hurry it along," Siler suggested.

"You want me to kill him?"

"You said it yourself, he's dying."

"Dying is NOT dead," she said. "What the hell did you think I was going to do when you asked me to help?"

"I dunno, give him a painkiller or something. Help him out a little."

"The only way I can help him out is to operate on him," she said. "Euthanasia is not an option."

"We take him out of here, we'll be the next people in that chair."

Janet stared down at her patient, watching as he stirred slightly, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Siler was right, there was nothing they could do to help him. Not without risking exposing themselves. She couldn't just patch Jackson up. His injuries were beyond patching, in fact, she'd guess that he had just hours to live. And even with surgery, it was very possible that the damage was too great. If his liver was involved then it was possible that there'd be nothing they could do and…"We gotta get him out of here," she said quickly.

"You just said that—"

"I know what I said," she interrupted. "He stays here, he's dead. We're dead. We have to get him off world. It's the only place he'll be safe."

"There's no way we can get him down to the gate room," Siler said. "Hell, we'll be lucky to get him to the infirmary without one of Samuels' spies catching us."

"We're not going to the infirmary. Go upstairs, get Carter down here," she ordered.

Siler stared at her for a second. "Doc, you don't like it when they use Carter like this," he reminded.

"I don't. But she's the only chance we have to save him. Go get her and bring her down here. I also need a change of clothes for him."

Siler paused for a few seconds and Janet was afraid that he'd refuse to help her. He couldn't do that, she couldn't do this without his help. "Ok," he finally said, sighing heavily. "I hope to hell you know what you're doing, doc."

He got to his feet and left the room, carefully checking the hall before he stepped out. Janet waited until he was gone before she sighed, looking down at her patient. "I hope so too," she muttered, reaching into her bag.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sergeant Dan Siler hurried down the halls, desperately trying to figure out how he could get Carter from her room to the holding cell without alerting any of Samuels' men.

Getting her out of her room wasn't really an issue, his set of master keys would take care of that. But navigating the three levels between her room and Jackson's holding cell was a totally different issue.

There was no way Matheson could disable all the cameras so Dan knew that he'd leave a record of his actions. Even more problematic was all the witnesses. Dan knew the identities of a lot of Samuels' cronies, but not all of them. He figured even if he got Carter to the doc and back to her room without being caught, there was no way he'd do it without it being noticed.

"I hear Acapulco's nice this time of year," he muttered softly, digging the keys out of his pocket. Going AWOL was about the only option he had. He knew, even if he resigned tomorrow, he'd still be hunted down and arrested, likely on charges of treason.

That was the attitude of the government now. Their way or the highway. Anyone that spoke out was quickly discredited, and if that failed, they vanished.

Taking one last glance up and down the hall, Dan shoved the key into the lock and opened the door, quickly entering the room.

It was dark so he reached out flipping on the light switch. The lights blared on and Dan blinked quickly to clear his vision. The room was sparsely furnished, consisting of little more than a cot, table and chair and a small armoire.

A figure was curled up in the bed and she stirred, pushing back the blankets. She blinked, frowning as she looked at him. He knew that she wasn't used to him, Samuels trusted only a few of his men to be her 'handlers'.

"Captain Carter, we need your help," he said, keeping his voice low. She didn't speak but he expected that. According to the rumors, the last time anyone heard her speak was before SG-1's mission to Nasyia over a year ago.

Some suggested that the goa'uld had done something to her and damaged her somehow, but Dan didn't think so. When he looked at Carter, he saw something in her gaze, something lingering and present. It reminded him of a philodendron left in an abandoned office for a few months. There was still a fragment of life and intelligence left even if the rest of it was slowly withering away from neglect.

Not for the first time, he wished that her team was still alive. Colonel O'Neill would never have stood for this. Thinking of Colonel O'Neill reminded Dan of his mission. "Someone is hurt. We need your help," he said.

She nodded and pushed the blanket aside, revealing that she was sleeping in a pair of sweat pants and t-shirt. He stood awkwardly by the door while she slid her feet into a pair of simple tennis shoes and got to her feet. She walked slowly towards him and Dan stared, something seeming odd. "Oh," he said, realizing what was wrong. "Where's the aah, umm, you know." He gestured with his hand and she turned, crossing to the armoire. She pulled open a small drawer and pulled out the healing stone, turning back to face Dan.

"Ok, then, let's go." Dan opened the door, refusing to admit that maybe he was just as bad as Samuels. He led her out into the hall, careful to turn off the light and close the door behind them. Maybe, if he was really, really lucky no one would notice that she was missing for a while.

The stairway was closer than the elevator and he led her into it, reaching out to take her hand to guide her up the stairs. She tried to pull away and he looked over, smiling to reassure her. "It's ok. We're just doing things a little differently this time."

Fortunately, she didn't struggle but tightened her fingers in his and followed him up the stairs. He made his way back to Jackson's cell, encountering no one along the way. He opened the door of the room and pulled Carter in before shutting the door. The doc was just as he'd left her, kneeling at Jackson's side.

The man's shirt was open and it looked like the doc had cut it off. His chest was bruised and sickening splashes of purple and red marred his pale skin. The doc had a needle in her hand and looked to be finishing sewing up a cut over his eye. "Doc?"

"Good," she said, looking up. "I've done what I can." She leaned back on her haunches and waved them forward. "Captain Carter, he's bleeding internally. That's what I need you to fix. Don't worry about the superficial injuries. They'll heal on their own. I just need you to stop the bleeding inside his chest," she instructed.

Carter walked over to them and knelt at Jackson's side. She reached out and touched his face, brushing his lank hair off his forehead. Dan saw her look up at the doc, a question on her face. "He's not your Daniel," Doc said. "He's from an alternate reality. Samuels has…well you can see what he did. We've got to get him out of here before Ratner can finish the job. And to do that, we need you to help him. Can you help him?"

Carter nodded and slid the stone onto her hand, holding it out over Jackson's chest. As Dan watched, the stone sprang to life, a warm orange beam washing over the man's abused skin. Despite himself, Dan stared, watching with morbid fascination as the bruises faded and the bones of his ribs shifted, moving back to where they were supposed to be.

After several minutes, the device turned off and Carter slumped, only the doc's quick actions keeping her from falling on Jackson. Dan lunged forward, supporting some of Carter's weight so that the doc could examine Jackson.

Dan held her close, carefully sliding the stone off her slack hand. "Doc?"

Frasier pulled her stethoscope from around her neck, putting the ends into her ears and listening to Jackson's chest. "His chest is clear," she said, "Heartbeat's strong." As she spoke, Jackson stirred, moaning softly. His eyes opened and he looked up at them.

"You're ok," Frasier reassured him.

"What the hell?" His eyes settled on Carter. "You didn't." He looked at Doc. "You said—

"I know what I said," she interrupted. "But you were dying and I don't have time to crack your chest." She looked up at Dan. "I have a plan."

"Well, that's good, doc. I hope it includes Mexico or some other country without extradition," he said, shifting his hold on Carter a bit as she stirred in his arms.

"I wasn't thinking about another country," she said, helping Jackson sit up. Dan raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the crypticness of his response. "They run tests at night don't they?" she asked. "Working their way through the dialing program and finding planets to send MALPS to."

"Every night but…Doc, what are you thinking of?"

"The one place Samuels can't get his hands on them," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Jackson asked, slowly scrubbing his hands across his face, wincing when his fingers encountered some of the bruises.

"We can't get you off this base. The security's too tight. And even if we did, you'll never be able to hide. Kinsey will just release an APB, labeling you an enemy menace and the whole world will hunt you down. But on the other side of that gate…surely you can find a planet where they can't find you, where you guys can be safe."

Jackson shook his head. "Guys?"

Frasier looked at Dan, her gaze steely and she sighed. "We'll get you to the gate room and to one of the planets. From there, you can go somewhere else. But you have to take her with you."

"Doc?" Dan protested. "She's in no shape to go through the gate. That's presuming we can even get them into the gateroom. There's the control room staff and the security contingent, not to mention the five levels of personnel between here and there."

"Five levels of personnel that are sick and tired of this. That are tired of exploring new planets just to watch them be raided and stripped of all their natural resources."

"They're also afraid of getting on Samuels' bad side and getting 'disappeared' like every one else that's spoken up," Dan said.

"Can you get us through the gate without getting yourselves killed?" Jackson asked. His voice sounded a bit stronger than it had a few minutes before even though he still looked like death warmed over to Dan.

"What about your reality?" Dan asked. "The mirror is just two levels up, I can get you there no problem."

Jackson shook his head. "My reality is gone."

"And you don't have the controller to pick another one," Frasier said.

Jackson turned his head to look at her. "I didn't say that. But Sam…my Sam, had a theory. Something about cascades or something but anyway, the crux of it is that two of the same people can't exist in the same reality at the same time. If your Daniel Jackson is dead, then I can stay here for a while. I don't have that kind of guarantee with another realty and I really don't feel like taking the time to look."

"I know where the tranquilizer darts are," Frasier said slowly, looking at Dan. "The ones we used to subdue Hathor."

"Better than that. We recovered some goa'uld shock grenades last week," Dan said, well aware of the ramifications of what he was agreeing to.

"I've been to about thirty different planets and I know a few dozen from other teams," Jackson said. "I can find us somewhere to stay. Can you arrange some sort of distraction?" Jackson asked.

"Distraction?"

"Something…I dunno, an intruder alert at the surface. Something to get the gate room guards distracted. We can use grenades to take care of the rest. We can dial the gate and be gone in a few minutes."

"You'll take Sam with you?" Frasier asked.

"She's dead weight, doc," Dan said. "There's no way he can be on the run and—"

"She's coming with me," Jackson interrupted. "My Sam would rather die fighting than be used like this. I'm not leaving her behind."

"Ok," Dan said. "This is going to take a little time to set up. We gotta find a place to stash you two."

"We can't take too long," Frasier said. "Bauer's meeting—"

"Half an hour, doc. It'll take me that long to get the grenades."

"In my SGC, there's a storeroom on level 22. No one uses it. They say it's haunted and—"

"So's ours," Frasier interrupted.

"You take them there," Dan instructed. "I'll round up the rest."

"I can get you some food and clothes," Frasier said. "Something to get you started."

Jackson nodded. He slowly got to his feet, not shaking off the Doc's offer of help. Dan watched as he limped over to the table and picked up one device, grasping it tightly.

"This is coming with me," he said, holding out what Dan could only guess was the controller to the mirror. There was a steely look in his eyes that suggested that no one was going to take the item from him. And Dan wouldn't even dream of it. Jackson had more than paid his dues and anyway, if that really was the controller, Dan didn't want Samuels getting it anymore than Jackson did. "Now, can we get the hell out of here. This room is giving me the creeps."

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel heard the door shut behind him and he sighed, relaxing in the relative safety of the storeroom. They weren't safe, not by a long shot, but they were a damn sight safer here than in that room.

Memories of the last…however the hell long it'd been, washed over him and he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. "Not now," he muttered. "Not now, not now, not now, not now." He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, forcing the memories away. He could deal with them later…much, much later.

Remembering that he wasn't alone, Daniel looked over at his companion, really seeing her for the first time. She looked a lot like his Sam, physically she was almost identical. Her hair was a bit longer and a bit ragged, like it hadn't been given a proper cut for months. Her face was a bit leaner and he thought that he saw tinges of grey at her temples. She was standing on the other side of the store room, her hands clutched close to her side and her eyes riveted on him.

"What the hell did they do to you?" he asked rhetorically, moving towards her.

Predictably, she didn't answer, instead she edged away from him, keeping her distance.

"Yeah, great. You know all the times Jack wanted you to shut up and now you do," he rambled, limping heavily. She might have healed the worst of the damage to his chest, but he still felt like crap. His face was sore, no doubt the result of more than one punch and slap. The side of his face itched and he explored it, his fingers trailing up a streak of dried blood to encounter the familiar prickles of stitches. His head ached, his jaw was sore and he was relatively sure that he had more than a couple loose teeth.

All in all, he felt horrible and wanted nothing more than to just curl up in a corner and sleep for a week or three. But he couldn't do that, not yet. They had to get the hell out of here first.

He slowly explored the storeroom, slightly disappointed to discover that there was little more stored in there than paper and other useless stuff. Belatedly remembering the clothes Siler had given him, Daniel looked around, searching for somewhere to change.

He found nothing, the room was furnished with little more than rows of shelves and cabinets. He turned back to look at Sam, holding the clothes in one hand and the mirror controller in the other. "I'm aah, you mind?" He gestured for her to turn around.

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing a bit, but she didn't move. "Fine," he shrugged, reaching out to set the controller and clothes down on one of the shelves. "You've seen most of it before anyway."

He slowly peeled off his filthy clothes, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He wished for a shower. Well, to be honest, he really wanted a nice long hot bath and some of Janet's special drugs, but he'd settle for a shower, something to get the stink of a day's worth of sweat and blood off his skin.

A flash of movement caught his eyes and he looked up, watching as a bottle of water rolled across the floor to stop at his feet. "Thanks," he said, glancing over at her. He picked up the water and twisted off the lid, taking a deep drink before he moistened his t-shirt and used it as a makeshift washcloth. In a few minutes, he was cleaner than before and redressed in the new clothes.

"Siler should be back in a few minutes," he said as he stashed his clothes behind a box. He knew she wouldn't answer but he felt the need to talk…if for no other reason than to keep his mind off the past several hours. "Then we can see if we can make it down six levels, through armed guards and the titanium iris and find us a nice planet to hide out on. Piece of cake," he quipped, pasting an odd grin on his face.

She didn't respond and Daniel sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "You know, this silent thing is getting old." Daniel heard a sound and looked at the door, staring in horror as the door knob turned. Sam scurried behind one of the shelves, ducking down just as the door opened.

Much to his relief, a familiar face appeared, closing the door behind him. "Siler," Daniel said.

"Jackson." He looked around. "Where is she?"

Daniel pointed at Sam as she peeked out from behind the shelf. "What's the plan?"

"The main blast door is going to malfunction in about ten minutes," he said, glancing at his watch. "Doc's already in the triage room on level 28. At our signal, she's gonna take out the control room—"

"Janet?" Daniel interrupted, picking up the controller.

"It's one of those goa'uld grenades. Even she can handle it," Siler said. "I'll do the same in the gate room. We'll dial out and get you guys through."

Daniel nodded, accepting that there was only so much they could do. "Do you know where SG-1 was lost?" he asked, glancing over as Sam stepped out from behind the shelves, joining them.

"What?"

"What planet were they lost on?"

Siler shook his head. "Umm, it has some funky…Tal, Talcum…"

"Taldor?"

"Yeah, I think that's it," Siler confirmed.

"They could still be alive then," Daniel said.

"You're kidding? It's been over a year."

"If Jack could survive by himself in an Iraqi prison for four months, he can survive in Hedantes for a year," Daniel said. "Especially if he has Teal'c with him."

Siler shook his head. "Whatever," he dismissed. "I think you're a damn fool but I don't have time to argue," he said. "We gotta go, and we gotta go now."

Daniel looked over at Sam, gesturing for her to join them. The three of them cautiously left the store room and made their way down the hall, Daniel and Siler flanking Sam like they were escorting her.

They slipped into one of the back halls, using a maintenance access stairway to climb down to level 28. "Lay low until I give the signal," Siler said, holding up the tranquilizer gun. Daniel nodded and hung back, Sam close but not too close.

"Just stay close to me," Daniel said, glancing at her. "This shouldn't be too tough." He ignored how empty his reassurance sounded. It shouldn't be too tough. Or it could be the toughest battle of their lives. In his SGC he'd know that the guards, while doing their job, would temper than job with rationality. But this SGC bore little resemblance to his and Daniel wouldn't be surprised in the slightest to find out that Samuels and Bauer authorized deadly force.

The thought of being captured made Daniel's stomach churn. He didn't want to go back to that room and literally wanted to die first. And he had a funny feeling that Sam would feel the same.

A few muffled cries filtered down the hall and Daniel felt his adrenaline surge. "Here we go," he said, reaching out to take Sam's hand. Fortunately, she didn't pull away and Daniel led her out into the hall. They crept along the walls, keeping as low of a profile as possible. Just as he reached the side door to the gateroom, it opened and Daniel raised his tranquilizer gun, lowering it quickly when he recognized Doctor Frasier. "Come on," she urged and Daniel hurried forward, pulling Sam behind him.

Half a dozen bodies lay on the floor, all sprawled unconsciously. Daniel heard a clunking sound and looked, catching sight of the gate spinning. He looked up and saw Siler seated in front of one of the consoles, obviously controlling the gate. "This was all I could get," Frasier said, holding out a small satchel. "There's a few days worth of rations and some medical supplies."

Daniel took it, handing it over to Sam before he bent over and relieved one of the guards of his weapons, struggling to roll the man over to grab his extra ammunition and knife. "What about you two?" he asked, standing up as the fourth chevron locked.

"We'll be ok," Frasier said, smiling weakly. "You need to go."

"Where is he sending us?"

"I don't…" she looked up at Siler.

"Broca," Siler said over the speaker. "You can turn a 180 and go somewhere else as soon as you arrive. Which I really suggest you do."

"You should stay away from familiar planets," Frasier said. "Eventually they'll figure it out. And if they don't come looking for you, they will for that." She motioned towards the controller in Daniel's hand.

The seventh chevron locked and the gate whooshed open. "You could come with us," Daniel offered impulsively. "I know of a lot of planets we can hide on."

"Thank you but—" Alarms began to blare and Frasier cut off, looking up. "GO! Now!" she yelled, pushing Daniel towards the gate. He turned and hurried towards the ramp, reaching out to grab Sam's hand and pull her behind him. The pair of them dashed up the ramp and through the Stargate, leaving the SGC behind.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack rolled over, cursing under his breath at the thin lumpy mattress. Then again, he was one of three people in the caves that possessed mattresses, so he couldn't complain too loudly. He heard someone else moving around and he resisted the urge to open his eyes.

Their cave was their cave, and none of the other denizens dared to encroach on their space. The sound of a knife scraping on wood drifted through the cave and Jack groaned, rolling to his back. "Damnit, Lorne, can't you give it a break?" he muttered.

"With all due respect, sir. Shut up," Lorne said, his tone belaying his disrespectful words. Jack opened his eyes and glared at the captain before settling back down on the mattress, his arms stretched up and his hands cradling his head. Lorne was a good guy and he'd changed a lot since his first – and only – mission with SG-1. "How many damn chess sets do you have now?" Jack asked, referring to the man's woodcarving hobby.

Fortunately, or not, there was no shortage of material in the caves. Most of the walls were lined with roots and vines, giving Lorne an unending supply of things he could whittle and mess with.

"Five," Lorne answered. "Plus the three checkers sets."

"Why can't you make something useful, like a DHD," Jack groused.

"Find me a power source and I'll make you a DHD," Lorne snapped back, falling into a well established pattern of banter. "Cause, with no batteries, it's kinda useless."

Jack dropped the subject, admitting the truth to himself. As much crap as he gave Lorne about his hobby, he envied him in a way. At least he HAD a hobby, had a way to fill the endless hours.

A distant sound funneled through the corridors and Jack sat up, his senses instantly alert. "It's not time for food," Lorne said needlessly, setting his carvings aside.

"Must be a new prisoner," Jack said, rolling to his feet. He left their grotto, Lorne at his heels and made his way towards the main chamber. Teal'c joined them and the three of them stood there, waiting for the gate to finish dialing.

Around them, Jack sensed the other prisoners gathering around them, all curious as to the new arrivals. Of course, there really wasn't much else to be interested in. Rehabilitating the inmates wasn't high on the Taldor's list of priorities. "We will not benefit from an increase in the population," Teal'c said softly. Jack had to agree with him. In the year he'd been a 'guest' of the Taldor he'd noticed that their food rations didn't increase as the population did. Which meant that more prisoners meant less food, and Jack knew that it would only fuel another uprising.

"Had to happen eventually," Jack said, refusing to let the futility of their situation get to him.

The Stargate opened and Jack straightened up, watching the shimmering event horizon. Two figures stumbled through, their shapes in silhouette until the gate snapped shut, plunging the chamber into darkness. Jack frowned. Something about them was familiar. Despite himself, Jack stepped forward, mentally urging his eyes to adjust quicker.

Discordant whistling started to echo through the chamber and Jack sighed. He'd seen the 'greeting' before, too many times before. The newcomer called out, his voice drowned out by the whistling.

"O'Neill?" Jack ignored Teal'c's questioning word as he stepped forward, drawn to the newcomer. It was stupid of him to go forth. A few of the inmates were like them, basically innocent and 'harmless' but some weren't. Psychosis apparently was a universal affliction and they'd had more than their share of nuts and weirdoes.

"Jack?"

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Lorne asked, moving closer to Jack.

The other denizens of the prison started to close in, forcing the two newcomers to close ranks. "Jack!"

"That voice is familiar," Teal'c said.

"It can't be," Jack said, denying the familiarity of the voice.

"They're gonna cream em," Lorne said.

"Not if we can help it," Jack muttered. "Back off!" he yelled, asserting his authority. The other denizens listened to them, even if it was more of a tolerance thing than any real respect. "BACK OFF!" he yelled louder, moving forward, Teal'c and Lorne at his side.

The denizens reluctantly backed off, clearing a path for them to walk through.

"Jack, thank god," the newcomer gasped. "I knew you'd be alive. If anyone could still be alive in here, it'd be you. And Teal'c, it's so good to see you, and…whoever the hell you are."

Jack ignored the man's ramble, his gaze riveted on the man's face. It couldn't be. "Someone tell me that I'm not hallucinating," Jack requested.

"If you perceive that this newcomer bears a resemblance to Daniel Jackson, then you are not hallucinating," Teal'c said.

"Jackson's dead," Lorne said.

"Apparently not," Jack said, finally getting close enough to make out some details. The newcomer not only sounded like Daniel, he looked like him too. And he looked like he'd gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. His face was bruised and battered and Jack could see a neat row of stitches on his forehead. His lip was split and one eye was black and swollen.

"Captain Carter."

Jack turned his attention to the other newcomer and was shocked to find her familiar. "Carter?" It had been more than a year since he'd seen his former second in command but he still recognized her, even if barely. She lurked close to Jackson's side, almost cowering under the scrutiny of the denizens.

"What the hell's going on?" Lorne demanded. "Is this night of the living dead?"

"I don't know," Jack said, turning his attention to the man. "Who are you?"

"Jack, don't you recognize me? I'm Daniel—"

"Ah," Jack interrupted, raising his hand. "Daniel Jackson's dead."

The newcomer raised his eyebrows. "I'm dead?"

Jack looked him from toe to the top of his head. "You look pretty alive to me. Which is odd considering that we buried you eleven months ago."

The newcomer sighed. "Just once," he ranted softly. "Just once I want to find an alternate universe where I'm alive."

"Alternate universe?" Lorne asked.

"That's where I'm from. I'm not your Daniel Jackson and…" He swayed slightly, closing his eyes. Jack watched as what little color the man had in his face drained away.

"Teal'c," Jack said, reaching out to catch Daniel as his knees folded. "Let's continue this somewhere quieter." Teal'c took Daniel's weight from him and Jack looked at Carter, frowning when he saw her just standing there. He made a move towards her but she backed away. "Lorne, get Carter," he ordered. "Let's go back to the grotto. Something tells me that this is going to take a while."

XXXXXXXXXX

Kevin Lorne followed his companions back to their grotto, his attention torn between the woman he was escorting and the other denizens. Ahead, O'Neill and Teal'c supported Daniel Jackson's – if that's who he really was – weight between them leaving Kevin to take care of the woman and Jackson's sole piece of luggage, a large satchel.

Kevin glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a couple of the bolder denizens lurking just barely in the shadows. This definitely did not look good. They were too bold for his comfort.

Ever since he'd killed Vishnoor a year ago, O'Neill had earned the position of leader, which meant that Kevin and Teal'c as his friends, were immune from being accosted. But Kevin had a funny idea that that was going to change now.

"Boss, I think we have a problem," he said as soon as they were in the grotto.

"Only one?" O'Neill asked as he and Teal'c lowered Jackson onto O'Neill's pallet.

"The natives are restless," Kevin said, releasing his grip on the woman. She left his side, slowly edging her way towards Jackson. Kevin couldn't help but notice the wariness in her motions. She was acting like she was terrified of them all.

"They'll settle down," O'Neill dismissed.

"I do not believe that your assessment is correct," Teal'c said, staying out of O'Neill's way as he examined Jackson.

"Maybe if it was just him," Kevin said, gesturing towards Jackson. "She's gonna be a problem."

In their year here they'd run across only two female prisoners. One, Linea, had died just hours after their arrival. The second, Zarian, died just last month, a failed pregnancy and no real medical care costing her her life.

"Yeah," O'Neill agreed, looking up at the skittish woman. Zarian had fit right in, her experience as a prostitute giving her a value and place in the prison society. "Carter?" he asked, getting to his feet. "Where the hell have you been and what are you doing here?" As O'Neill talked, Carter moved away from him, slowly backing up until she was pressed against the wall.

"She doesn't talk," a weak voice said. O'Neill turned, making his way back to the pallet and the man lying on it.

Jackson's eyes were open and he was slowly propping himself up, with more than a little assistance from Teal'c. "Then you better fill us in," Jack said, squatting down beside Jackson.

Teal'c scooped up a small bowl of water and handed it to Jackson. The man drank deeply before settling back, thanking Teal'c with a quick smile. "A couple days ago, my SGC was attacked. The gate was breached and I think there were ships in orbit. I stumbled across the quantum mirror and I went through. I wound up in your reality."

"I thought General Hammond got rid of that mirror," Lorne said.

"So did I," Jack said.

"Hammond's not at the SGC anymore," Jackson said.

"What?"

"There's a General Bauer in charge. Samuels is his second."

"When the hell did this happen?" Jack demanded.

Jackson shook his head. "I don't know. All I do know is that the SGC is totally different from what it's supposed to be. They're not exploring, they're raiding, pillaging planets. They're pirates for lack of a better word."

"Did they make you walk the plank?" Jack asked, pointing at Jackson's bruised face.

"It's Samuels' method of 'persuasion' if he's not getting what he wants," Jackson said.

Jack nodded. "How bout her?" He jerked his thumb at Carter who was still lurking in the corner of the grotto.

Jackson shook his head. "I'm not sure. Even Janet didn't know for sure. She disappeared from the hospital she was in and showed up at the SGC a couple of months ago."

"Why?" Kevin asked. "She sure as hell ain't fit for duty." He looked at her, seeing not only the wary look on her face, but her clothing as well. No matter how much the SGC had changed, he didn't think sweatpants and a sweatshirt was proper off-world attire.

"They don't use her for that," Jackson said.

"Use her?"

"She can use goa'uld stuff, namely the healing stone. Bauer uses her to keep his casualty figures down." Jackson's tone was derisive and bitter.

"How can she use that stuff?" Jack asked.

"It is possible that her abilities stem from her possession by the goa'uld," Teal'c said.

"Really?" Kevin asked.

"Every goa'uld has the ability, some possess a greater skill than others."

"Carter's goa'uld is dead," Jack said.

"Captain Carter was the first host that I was aware of to survive the possession," Teal'c said. "Her condition is quite unique. It is possible that the remnants of Jolinar left within Captain Carter's body allow her to control the devices, as it did Kendra."

"Ok," Jack said, pushing his fingers through his hair. "That still doesn't explain how you got here. WHY you got here." He gestured at their surroundings. "This isn't exactly a vacation hot spot."

"We came for you. Or, originally I was going to come for you, but we had to get Sam out of there so…here we are," Jackson said.

"The SGC was so bad you decided to piss off the Taldor and go for life in prison instead?" Kevin asked.

Jackson smiled. "Who said anything about the Taldor?"

"If the Taldor did not send you here, how did you come to be a prisoner?" Teal'c asked.

"My SG-1 ran across this planet a year ago. But Sam was with us and between her and Linea we figured out a way to power the gate and dialed out. I remembered the address from when the Taldor sent us here the first time so I just dialed it direct."

"Which explains this," Kevin said, holding up the bag he'd been exploring while the others talked. "He's got food."

"I have more than food," Jackson said, reaching to the small of his back and pulling out a Beretta.

"Sweet," Jack said, taking the weapon from him.

"Macaroni and cheese," Kevin said, holding up the packet. "He's got macaroni and cheese." Kevin's mouth was watering, the prospect of real food making his stomach churn. He ignored the fact that he considered a MRE to be 'real' food. After a year's worth of porridge and the occasional barbequed rat, he didn't know if he remembered what real, fresh food was.

"You did not journey here merely to deliver supplies or to seek refuge," Teal'c said.

Jackson looked at him, then at Jack. "No one gets left behind," he said softly.

A silence settled over the group and Kevin saw Jack look at Jackson, a bit of respect displacing the skepticism.

"You know," Kevin said, breaking the silence. "We still have a problem." Everyone turned to look at him. "You said that your Sam Carter and Linea figured out how to get the gate to dial."

"Right."

"We have neither of those."

"What?" Jackson asked.

"Linea's dead," Jack said. "Died in a cave-in soon after we were sent here."

"And I think it's safe to say that Carter won't be contributing much," Kevin said.

"Do you remember how they did it?" Jack asked.

"Umm, maybe. Something about a root and one of her things." He looked up and around the room. "This is Linea's room?"

"Yeah, we inherited it."

Jackson nodded. "It was some tay…tam…some root that starts with a T."

"Tao Root," Teal'c said. "Many of the denizens employ it as a food source."

"That sounds right. Something in one of these bottles made it glow. Sam was rambling on about fusion and something. Anyway, it was enough to power the gate."

"You know, it wouldn't take that long to try," Kevin said. "There's only about eighty bottles up there."

"That much Tao Root may be difficult to procure," Teal'c said.

"But not impossible," Kevin said, buying into the plan. It was a long shot to say the least. But it was the best chance they'd ever had to get the hell out of this place.

Jack nodded. "Teal'c, you, Lorne and I will start digging up the root. Jackson, you stay here." He looked over his shoulder. "Keep her in here too." Jackson raised his eyebrows. "Trust me on this. She's gotta stay in here."

"OK," Jackson agreed.

Jack got to his feet and turned to leave the grotto, then turned back. He held out the Beretta, butt first, to Jackson. "Anyone but us tries to come in here, use it. And don't think twice."

XXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c meditated in his corner of the grotto, his eyes closed but his ears open. He could hear his companions on the other side of the chamber, each busy with their self-appointed tasks. O'Neill and Daniel Jackson were experimenting with Linea's tinctures, applying each one in turn to the bits of the Tao Root, hoping to recreate the reaction that Daniel Jackson said was needed to generate power.

Captain Lorne sat beside Captain Carter and, judging by the steady rasp of a knife against wood, was entertaining her with his woodcarving. As she had been for the past few days, the woman remained silent. She refused to interact with any of them, save Captain Lorne.

Beyond their grotto, Teal'c could hear the sound of an impending confrontation. He was the only one who ventured from the grotto in recent days, save for meal time, and each time he sensed more and more hostility from the denizens. They were often gathered in small groups, discussing and staring at them as the small party made its way to and from the food trough.

There was no such reality as respect in this place, only fear. And while fear could be very powerful, it could also be easily conquered. Lacking a cause to rally them, Teal'c felt that the denizens were using greed - greed and the desire to possess what they did not have.

He knew that O'Neill felt it too. Which was one reason the man was lending his assistance to Daniel Jackson in his task. If they were to make their escape, they needed to do so soon, lest they risk another confrontation with the denizens.

It was a confrontation that, even with the weapons Daniel Jackson brought with him, they would be hard pressed to win.

"Presuming this thing works, any idea where we can go?" O'Neill asked, his voice breaking the quiet of the grotto.

"We gated to P2A509 last time and met up with SG-9, but I'm guessing that's not an option here."

"Why'd you go there?" Lorne asked as Teal'c opened his eyes.

"We needed their GDO to get home."

"GDO's the last thing we need," O'Neill said. Jackson looked at him. "We're not going back to the SGC."

"I wasn't gonna suggest that," Jackson said. "But if the SGC has raided like I think they have, chances are most of the planets I know won't welcome us. Either that or we don't dare go there, not if we want to avoid Bauer's men."

O'Neill looked over at him. "Teal'c? Any ideas?"

"I know of many planets, O'Neill. However, the majority of them are under goa'uld dominion. I do not believe that they will provide an adequate sanctuary."

"How about less long term and more short term," Lorne said. "For the time being, let's just concentrate on getting the hell out of here. We can shop for a new home later."

"Captain Lorne's idea is a most pragmatic one," Teal'c said.

"Cimmeria," Daniel Jackson spoke up. "That should be safe." He looked at them. "Presuming it's the same in your reality as it is in mine."

O'Neill looked at Jackson. "You know the address?" Jackson nodded. "Ok, Cimmeria it is. We'll hole up with Gairwyn for a while, get our feet back under us then decide from there." He looked back at the scattered bits of Tao Root. "Presuming we can get the crap to work."

"It has to be one of these," Jackson said.

"Has to be?"

"Yes, has to be," Jackson insisted. "Look, we were here for hours when she showed Sam and Jack…my Jack, her activators. So it was something she already had. And if she had it in my universe, she probably had, has it in yours. We just need to find it."

O'Neill sighed and got to his feet, stretching. "I need a break. I've been pouring stuff on roots for hours. I'm gonna go take a spin around the tunnels."

"I shall go with you, O'Neill," Teal'c said, getting to his feet. O'Neill looked at him. "Given the current state of unrest, it is best if none of us are alone."

O'Neill shrugged. "Whatever." The two of them left the grotto, easily falling into step with each other.

"You believe his story?" Teal'c asked softly as soon as they were out of earshot of the grotto.

"It seems plausible," O'Neill said with a shrug. "It matches what our Daniel rambled about last year."

"And his supposition that Linea possessed a botanical extract that will alter the structure of the Tao Root?" he pressed.

"His ass is marooned here too. We have about three dozen more bottles to try."

As they walked, Teal'c found his attention torn between the conversation and their surroundings. The tunnels were dim and dank, as often was any subterranean space.

However, Teal'c's sharp eyes detected movement in the shadows. Usually, the other denizens gave them a wide berth, approaching only if they had something to share or to request. This was not the case now. Those that lurked were not the weak but the strong. He and O'Neill were being challenged in a way, tested to see how much leeway the denizens would be given before they struck back.

As with much in life, existence in Hedantes was a matter of balance. Keeping the population within the limits set by the food supply and the habitable space in the tunnels. Too little food and space led to the prisoners eventually uprising and reducing the population by force, or by slightly less violent means, the strong using their strength to prevent the weak from attaining their share and thus perishing.

A surplus of food, while a less violent atmosphere, was an exceedingly rare one, and a state that had been attained only once in their year internment. The arrival of Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter had altered that balance yet again, and Teal'c knew that it was not only a fear of hunger that stirred the denizens. The possession of Captain Carter was a much sought after commodity, and one that the other denizens resented.

"And if the catalyst is not within that three dozen?" Teal'c asked, glaring at Strycks, one of the more bold denizens. Fortunately, the man lowered his gaze and backed down, however not soon enough for Teal'c's preferences.

"We have a problem, don't we?" O'Neill asked softly, his tone rife with meaning.

"Indeed we do, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed, grateful that his leader was now aware of their situation and was not simply referring to the issue of the catalyst. It was only a matter of time before the denizens rebelled and Teal'c feared that even the fire arms provided by Daniel Jackson would not be enough to quell the violence.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simian crouched in the crevice, his ears tuned to the soft voices in the cavern beyond. He did not understand all of the Terran's words, many of them alien and strange. Cimmeria, labyrinth, GDO, all were strange terms to him. But he did understand the basics of their conversation. They were planning to escape, which was something O'Neill and his companions had not spoken of in many moons.

The new ones had brought many things with them, chief among which was a sustenance that, although alien to him, intrigued him. They had food, something far better than the rations provided by their jailers. They also had a female. And while she was a luxury that Simian himself did not covet, he knew others that did. Others that would be willing to compensate him quite well if he could deliver the female to them.

Hearing O'Neill and the large one leave their grotto, Simian slunk back into the shadows well aware that while his eyesight was non-functioning, theirs worked quite well. He would lose his meager advantage if they knew that he was listening to them.

He heard them walk slowly down the corridor and he froze, holding himself still until their footsteps faded. When he was sure it was safe, he slipped out of the crevice, silently feeling his way back to his corner. Strycks was going to be most interested in this bit of information. Perhaps interested enough to share his food ration.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel dribbled some of the green liquid onto the Tao Root, staring at it for several seconds before sighing and putting the cap back onto the bottle. He got to his feet and put the bottle back on the shelf, careful to set it beside the other rejects.

"Fifty-three bottles of stuff on the wall," Lorne said, his voice pitched to barely be audible over the sound of the small spring.

Daniel shot him a look, half afraid that he'd heard censure in the man's voice. But he saw nothing more than boredom and curiosity. "I wish I'd paid more attention," Daniel said, choosing three more bottles to try. He wasn't going to be able to keep the experiments up forever, they were nearly out of the Tao Root.

"So, you were really here?" Daniel looked at him. "Imprisoned like us?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Took us a couple of days to get out."

"Days?"

Daniel shrugged, feeling a bit guilty that he and his team had attained their freedom in just days while Lorne and his team had been stuck here for over a year. "We were lucky."

"What's it like, back home?" Lorne asked after a few seconds, putting down his wood carving to move closer to Daniel.

"Our realities—"

"Are pretty damn close," Lorne interrupted.

Daniel set down the bottles in his hand and turned to face Lorne. Like Jack and Teal'c, he wore a mish mash of his uniform and what had to be scavenged clothes. He had his boots and pants even though the green material was stained dark brown and black in places.

Daniel could see the remnants of his black t-shirt under a woven vest and jacket. Lorne's dark hair hung loosely around his face, unbound and slightly greasy looking.

Due to a lack of sunlight, Lorne's skin was pale, just like the other inhabitants here and that pallor only served to make his hair and beard seem all that much darker.

"Just tell me…who won the World Series?" Lorne insisted.

"The Red Sox, at least in my universe," Daniel said.

"Get outta here," Lorne said. "The Red Sox?" Daniel nodded. "Damn, ok, so maybe our realities are more different than I think."

Daniel heard a soft rustle and looked over, catching sight of Sam stirring on her pallet. She tended to sleep a lot he'd noticed. Not that there was much else to do. In a way, he didn't mind it. She kinda gave him the creeps, how she'd just stand or sit there, watching them all and not saying a word. The more time he spent in her company, the more he realized that Frasier had been wrong. She was aware. She knew where she was and what she was doing. The real question, to him anyway, was what she was going to do.

"So, this was your first mission?" Daniel asked, seeking to learn a bit more about the man. If things played out how he thought they would, the five of them were going to be spending the next several decades together. The sooner he got to know them, the better.

"Yep, first time lucky I guess," Lorne said.

"Hey, my first time through the gate I got married and ended up spending a year on Abydos," Daniel said, trying to cheer him up. Lorne got a strange look on his face and Daniel's forced smile faded. "Did you aah, was there…you know, was there someone?"

Lorne smiled briefly. "Serious? No. But did you happen to see a nurse when you were there? Her name was Wendy. Lieutenant Wendy Bates."

Daniel shook his head. "I was only there for three days, two of them in a locked room with a charming sociopath named Ratner. I didn't get introduced much," he apologized.

"Oh well, just as well," Lorne said with a shrug.

"Was it serious?"

"A couple cups of coffee serious." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wonder how things got so screwed up?" he asked.

"I dunno. I know Kinsey being President isn't a good thing."

"He won?"

Daniel nodded. "According to Frasier, after that near miss with Apophis, people were afraid. He campaigned on that fear. He uses it to keep the SGC classified, and uses it to justify invading other worlds, stealing technology from people. As far as he's concerned, Earth is the only planet that matters."

Lorne sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair, ruffling it even more. "I wonder what happened to Hammond? He didn't strike me as the quitting type."

"I killed him."

Daniel turned, for a minute not realizing where the soft whisper had come from. "Sam?"

She was staring at them, her arms wrapped over her stomach. Her eyes darted between them and he could see that she was breathing fast, like she was afraid of their reactions.

"What do you mean, kill him?" Lorne asked.

Sam slowly shook her head, clearly regretting speaking up. "Sam," Daniel said, walking towards her. "It's ok. We're not mad. We won't hurt you. How did you kill Hammond?"

She looked down at her hands, slowly reaching into her pocket to pull out the healing stone. "I couldn't fix him," she said slowly. "He died because I couldn't fix him."

"What happened?" Lorne asked.

"It's my fault if I can't fix them. I have to fix them. If I don't fix them, they die," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel frowned and looked at Lorne, shrugging at the blank look on the man's face. He had no idea what she was talking about. Following an instinct, he stepped forward and gently took the stone from her hands, tucking it into his pocket. "You don't HAVE to do this anymore," he said. "You don't have to fix a damn thing if you don't want to." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the table. "In fact, how about you giving me a hand with this."

"Yeah," Lorne said, joining them. "Let's surprise the crap out of O'Neill and have this thing all figured out by the time he comes back from his walk."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack carefully tucked the large chunk of Tao Root just behind the Stargate, nudging it with his foot to keep it out of sight. He looked up and saw Teal'c doing the same. Their task complete, they both made their way down off the dais, rejoining with Lorne who was keeping watch.

"We good to go?" he asked.

Jack nodded. "Should be. We'll do this after the food comes."

"Use the distraction of the denizens eating to complete our task unmolested."

"Yeah," Jack said, giving Teal'c a look.

"It will take several minutes to manually dial the chaappai."

"Presuming those roots have enough juice in them."

"It will and they will," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Let's try a little positive thinking huh?" He leaned against one of the walls, settling in to watch over the cavern. They had decided, once the roots were in place, to stand guard over them just to make sure that some lucky food scavengers didn't stumble across the roots and decide to steal them.

"Teal'c's gonna dial. Lorne, you and I will cover the entrances. T, Daniel and Carter are the first ones through. Lorne and I will bring up the six."

"I should go back to the grotto," Lorne said.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Stay close to them. And don't let Daniel pack too much. Strykes' men are watching. The last thing we need is a confrontation."

Lorne nodded and retreated back into the caverns. Jack shifted his position, taking up station just outside of the main chamber but still within view of the gate. "Do you believe that we shall encounter resistance?" Teal'c asked, settling down at Jack's side.

"I'll be surprised if we don't," Jack said. "Strykes is paying too much attention."

"It would be best then if I assisted you in insuring out successful escape."

"And we don't know what we're walking into on Cimmeria," Jack said. "Besides, Junior's only got a few more years."

"And if you and Captain Lorne are marooned here again?"

Jack shrugged. "We'll survive." He sighed. "Look, Teal'c, none of us are gonna get left behind." He looked at Teal'c, meeting his eyes. "But if we have a choice between half of us getting out of here and NONE of us getting out of here, I'm taking the half."

"I understand," Teal'c said

Jack leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. He figured that they had about an hour before the food was delivered and it was an hour that stretched out immeasurably slow. He wanted the time to come, needed, craved the action. But he was also unsure. He felt that a confrontation with the denizens was inevitable, and a year ago he wouldn't have considered the half starved group of miscreants a threat. But a year ago he wasn't a half starved miscreant himself.

"You are pensive," Teal'c said.

"Just doing the math," Jack dismissed. He felt Teal'c look at him. "We should have enough bullets to hold them off, especially since Daniel grabbed that extra clip."

"And then we will have little to defend ourselves with on Cimmeria."

Jack shrugged. "Cimmeria shouldn't be an issue. They might be a little pissed if they know that we dismantled the Hammer. Then again, Gairwyn said that the goa'uld hadn't been there for years."

"It is possible that we will attain our freedom without violence."

Jack shook his head. "I don't think so. Strykes has been spoiling for a fight for weeks. Carter and Daniel just sped things up is all."

"We could offer to liberate others with us," Teal'c suggested.

"No," Jack declared. "Some of these folks don't belong here, I know that. Some are just as innocent as we are. But there's others…hell Strykes has confessed to how many murders?"

"Three I believe."

"Which means he probably killed more than that. I don't agree with what the Taldor did, but we can't go letting murderers running loose. I haven't sunk that low."

"It is most pleasing to see Captain Carter interacting with others," Teal'c said after a few minutes.

"I wouldn't call saying a few words interacting," Jack said. Carter's condition was something else that he bore responsibility for. He never should have left her behind, never should have let them take her off to that hospital.

"I believe that she shall recover, with time," Teal'c proclaimed.

"You just keep up that positive thinking." Jack sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. They snagged in the tangled strands and he cringed. Realistically, his hair wasn't that long, just a couple of inches. But it had literally been decades since he'd had his hair this long. The first thing they were gonna do on Cimmeria was find a pair of scissors.

He glanced over at Teal'c, the man's bald pate gleaming dimly in the soft light of the cavern. At least he had benefited from some of Jackson's smuggled supplies, putting the knife he'd carried to good use. "Ya know, I was just getting used to the fro," Jack said, envying his friend. Hell, if they couldn't find scissors Jack just might follow Teal'c's fashion statement. Bald was a hell of a lot better than the shaggy mess he was currently cursed with.

The Stargate chevron chunked into place and Jack looked up, his senses automatically alert. "Heads up," he said needlessly. He got to his feet and Teal'c did the same. "Go get the others."

Teal'c nodded and retreated down the tunnel, returning to the grotto. Jack stayed where he was and watched the ritual play out before him. Feeding time was the only time in the prison where the denizens worked together. Both of the troughs were too heavy for any single person to handle, which meant that if they didn't work together, they didn't eat. Or they ate what they scraped out of the dirt.

They waited until the gate opened then settled the troughs into place, retreating to a respectful semi circle. The stream of gruel splashed into the troughs as the rest of his team joined him. Jack waited until the gate shut then stepped forward, taking his role as chief distributor. He took his bowl and dished some out to Teal'c, Daniel, Lorne and Sam before stepping back to allow the rest of the denizens to grab their own.

Jack held up his bowl, pretending to eat while he waited for the last denizen to disappear. "Let's go," he said softly, setting his bowl into an alcove. Teal'c and Lorne jogged to the gate, pulling the Tao Root bundles out from behind the gate. They wrapped the tendrils around the gate while Daniel handed Carter a bottle, the two of them making their way to the Tao Roots. They each drizzled the activator on the roots and Jack watched as the jumbled bundle of roots started to glow, power slowly funneling into the Stargate. "Dial it," he ordered, handing Lorne one of the weapons.

The two of them took up position, their backs to the gate and their attention directed down the corridors. He heard the gate spin and the chevrons lock. Jack counted the chunks, each one a mixed blessing. Each chevron that locked was one closer to them getting out, but each sound also increased the chances of one of the denizens getting curious and coming to check it out.

Jack heard the seventh chevron lock and he tensed, glancing over his shoulder to see the gate splash open. "Go," he ordered. "We don't know how long it'll stay open."

"You will not leave us here!"

Jack turned, recognizing the guttural tones of Strycks voice. The burly man was stalking down the tunnel, a handful of his men following him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Lorne closing ranks, moving to stand at his side.

"O'Neill?"

"Get them out of here!"

Jack slowly backed towards the gate as more and more denizens spilled into the chamber. "Over their heads," Jack said, squeezing the trigger of his weapon. The sharp report of gunshots echoed off the stone walls and some of the denizens fell back, frightened by the unfamiliar sound. "Let's—"

Jack's words died in his throat, replaced by a harsh cry. His leg crumpled and he looked down, barely registering the shape of some sort of shiv sticking out of his thigh. Strycks stalked forward, emboldened by Jack's fall. "You are mine!"

"See, I'm kinda fond of him," Lorne said, grabbing Jack's arm and pulling him to his feet. He dragged Jack towards the gate, squeezing off a few more rounds that kicked up the dirt at Strycks' feet.

Jack felt the edges of the steps at his heels and tried to step up, grunting with the effort. "Damn," Lorne cursed, his weapon clicking emptily.

Strycks' eyes grew wide and he dashed forward, intent upon stopping them now that the bullets were gone. Jack raised his weapon, firing two shots. Strycks stopped, a look of shock passing over his broad face. "Karma's a bitch," Jack muttered, taking a moment to enjoy the satisfaction of the man's death before he felt the chill pull of the wormhole. He fell backwards, well aware that he was in for one hell of a rough landing, and not giving a damn. He'd slide naked down a glacier if it meant that he'd never have to see that hell hole again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam stumbled as she exited the Stargate the bright sunshine temporarily blinding her. She felt Daniel's hand tighten on her arm, pulling her away from the gate. She could only hope that his vision was better than hers, and that there was nothing to trip over.

"Damnit," she heard, just barely audible over a familiar whining sound. Suddenly, Daniel's grip loosened as he shoved her, sending her to her knees. She looked back, blinking to clear her vision. She saw a bright blue beam emanating from the hammer, washing over each of them in turn, settling on Teal'c for a bit longer. "Wait for Jack!" Daniel yelled, tossing his bag towards her. "He'll be here in a second, wait for him!"

The flash brightened and then vanished, taking Daniel and Teal'c with it. A silence settled over the clearing, broken only by the soft gurgling of the Stargate. She felt the dry crackle of grass under her fingers and looked down, clenching her hands. She pulled up a small tuft of it and raised it to her nose, breathing deeply. She'd forgotten what grass smelled like. A soft breeze wafted through the clearing and she looked up, staring at the blue sky and leaf covered trees.

Outside. She was outside. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been outside.

She heard someone else come through the gate and she looked over, realizing just how vulnerable she was. Much to her relief, she watched Jack and Kevin tumble out, rolling down the steps to land in a heap on the grass. The gate snapped shut and she relaxed, thankful that none of the denizens had made it through with them.

"Will you get your elbow out of my kidneys?" Jack complained.

"Fine, next time I'll just leave your ass behind," Kevin said, untangling his limbs from Jack's.

Sam pushed herself to her feet, wincing when she realized that she'd skinned her knees when Daniel had pushed her. She picked up the bag, holding it close as she made her way over to Jack and Kevin.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, he got you good."

"No shit, Sherlock!" The two men were lying on the ground, Kevin crouched over Jack who was lying on his back, his hands reaching for his right leg. As she got closer Sam could see something sticking out of his thigh, the material of his pants shiny and stained dark.

"What should I do?" Kevin asked.

"Pull the damn thing out."

"You're not supposed to just pull it out. What if it hit an artery?"

"Then it hit an artery," Jack said, sitting up. "You leave it in there I'll die of infection in a few weeks. Trust me, bleeding out is better."

"Your choice," Kevin said. He grabbed the shiv carefully and looked at Jack. "You want me to yank it out slow or—"

"Ow!"

"Fast." Kevin held up the blood smeared spear, grinning wryly.

"Bastard."

"Tell me you wouldn't have done it the same." Kevin probed the injury. "No gushing. That's a good sign."

"Just wrap it," Jack ordered. "We need to get our asses out of the open."

Kevin looked up at Sam, holding out one blood smeared hand. "Sam, I need the first aid kit."

She obediently opened the bag, her eyes catching sight of the healing stone. Picking it up, she let the bag drop as she slid the stone onto her hand. He was hurt. She had to fix him. That's what she was supposed to do. She had to fix him or he would die.

"Sam?"

She ignored Kevin and knelt beside Jack.

"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Sam raised her hand, holding it over Jack's leg.

"No," he said, wrapping his hand around her wrist. Fixated on her task, she tried to pull away, her strength no match for his. "Carter, NO!" He shook her hand, reaching out to take the healing stone away from her. "Hey?" She looked over at him, the compulsion to use the device overwhelming. "It'll heal on its own. Leave it alone." She shook her head.

"Leave it," he repeated.

"I…can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I have to…fix…it."

"Why?" Kevin asked.

"I have to fix it," Sam said, trying to pull her hand out of Jack's grasp.

"Sam?" Kevin grabbed her chin and pulled her gaze away from Jack, forcing her to look at him. "Why do you have to fix it?"

"If I don't, they die," she said. She pulled her head free and looked back at Jack. "You can't die."

"I ain't gonna die from some little stick in the leg," he said. She shook her head. He didn't understand. He had to understand. She had to fix him. He couldn't die. She couldn't let any more die.

"Sam? How do they die?" Kevin asked.

"Lorne?"

"How do they die?" Kevin repeated, ignoring Jack. He took her chin again, turning her head more gently this time. "How, do, they, die?"

"If I can't fix them, they kill them," she whispered.

"Oh my god."

"Carter?" She turned to look at Jack. "Is that what they did to you? To make you use that thing?"

"I fix or they die," she said, the relief at sharing the burden almost overwhelming.

He stared at her for a few seconds before loosening his hold on her wrist. "Not anymore they don't," he said. "Now put that damned thing away and get me the first aid kit."

XXXXXXXXXX