This is a bit of a whimsical story - its kept me sane during a busy move to a new city and a period of nearly two weeks without internet access! Please do review, even if it's to tell me you think I'm truly odd :-)

Prologue

It happens. Sometimes the best laid plans are not proof against disaster, sometimes the attack is so unexpected that no retaliation is possible until it's too late... Sometimes the pendulum swings and the luck is bad, rather than good.

That's how it happened on Feydara. The plans in place were impeccable, the security absolute. The first anyone, including Teal'c, knew of the discontented splinter group of Jaffa was when the first laser bombs arced into the compound hosting the General, coming from the very ships placed in orbit to protect him. A fifth columnist on every ship, a dead Jaffa crew, and a courtyard of dead and injured dignatories - how better to announce your newly formed presence?

People died on that day, where they stood. It was Jack's training that saved his life, and Sam's. That little sixth sense, honed through years of being in the field, both with SG-1 and, earlier, on Black Ops. That small flicker of instinct, triggered perhaps by a radio crackling, perhaps by the whine a weapon makes as it breaches the atmosphere. His last conscious image was of the Jaffa he saw hurrying away from the compound, crackling radio in hand, but by then he was already diving, rolling away with Carter pulled down beside him, shielding her with his body as the courtyard exploded around them...

****

"Med Team STAT! Clear the way, move move!"

"What the hell happened out there? Where the hell is Mitchell??"

"It was his first trip offworld in months... it was supposed to be cocktails and speeches for God's sake!"

"Colonel, you must lie still, you'll pull out the IV line. Dammit! I'll have to resite it..."

"Sam! Sam, I just heard - how are you? Good God, you're injured, sorry, sorry Dr Lam... Sam, where's Jack? How is he?"

"I don't know, no-one will tell me anything, they won't let me up... Find him, please, Daniel? Tell me how he is..."

The voices were fading, even Carter's desperate, choked one, the voice she only used when she was fighting a losing battle with tears. The voices were fading, but the light was brightening, growing translucent, enveloping him in a warm radiance. Ah hell. He really was dead. And he hadn't even had a chance to walk away from the damn light...

General Jack O'Neill opened his eyes.

His first thought was that he felt remarkably fit for a man who had just been blown up in an aerial attack. The almost constant ache in his bad knees was gone. As, he noted with interest, looking down, were the knees themselves. Along with, apparently, the rest of his body. He could see nothing but the radiance, around and through him. He was pleased to note that even in the absence of any visible body, a definite himself still existed. He was sure he should feel more troubled by this unexpected turn of events, but he felt so peaceful. So relaxed. The lack of a physical body seemed somehow a very negligible thing.

"Do not get too comfortable, General." The voice, cultured, accentless, but definitely female, seemed to come from the air itself. Certainly Jack could see no body attached to it. He debated his options, and as they appeared limited to remaining stoically silent, or playing along, he decided on the latter.

"Hello?" he ventured, and silently cursed his lack of originality. "Um. You appear to have the advantage - I have no idea who I'm speaking to here."

The light began coalescing, pulling together in an almost liquid fashion. Within seconds, a being stood before him, still shimmering faintly, but otherwise appearing quite solid. A pair of dark eyes regarded him intently, and without looking down to check, and with no great sense of surprise, he knew his own form was back, in similar outline.

"There's a word," he frowned, trying to recall it. "Heard Carter use it... means a body that isn't really there?" The statement ended in a question, and the shimmering head nodded.

"The word is avatar General, and you are correct - your current form is not your physical body, merely a representation of it. Your actual body is presently in the Infirmary at the SGC, in a deep coma."

Jack concentrated. Seconds later his hair was a dark brown, and his knees were as effective as they had ever been. He grinned triumphantly, and his companion chuckled.

"Very good, General. Colonel Carter would, I think, be amazed at how much you take in when you are appearing not to listen to her."

Mention of Carter made him feel sad, and his shimmer dimmed.

"So." He rocked on his heels. "I'm a goner then, am I? Bright light, angelic beings, all adds up." But the figure in front of him was shaking her head, and a glimmer of hope sprang up in his chest.

"You are not dead yet, although you are not far from it." Her voice, coolly appraising of his situation, irritated him slightly for some reason, and he shifted his weight. She eyed him, and continued. "And I am not angelic. I do not fit into the Christian mythos at any level." He didn't bother pretending to misunderstand her. It didn't seem the time.

"What are you then?" His voice was direct. "Ascended Ancient? Hologram? Furling?"

She laughed, an unexpectedly merry sound, and he felt the tension that had built up begin to dissipate. He grinned back, but didn't give up. "Question holds. Who, or what, are you? And why are you here? In my so-called afterlife?"

Her face sobered, and she held his gaze. Her face, although unlined in appearance, suddenly gave him the impression of great age, and he shivered slightly. The she broke the moment, and turned from him.

"Come, General. Walk with me." She cast an amused look at his legs. "Enjoy those restored knees while you still have them."

"I have to give them up?" He fell easily into place beside her, and she matched his strides.

"When you go back. If you go back." Her even voice gave him no clue as to which was the more likely outcome, and her profile, viewed out of the corner of his eye, was equally unhelpful.

"At this present moment, three doctors are monitoring you; you are out of danger, but, as I said, in a deep coma. Hence your consciousness being able to travel here, and meet with me."

Without breaking step, she turned to him. "I am what you might call an ascended Ascended Ancient. I, and some of my people, progressed further, broke through yet another barrier, and we exist on a plane even further removed from the physical world than the Ancients you have met."

Jack's eyebrows had risen. He'd heard many outrageous stories in his time; what was worrying him now was how plausible this one sounded. Being Jack, he took refuge in a frontal attack.

"So if I would call you an ascended Ascended Ancient, what would Carter call you? Or Daniel??"

She laughed again - it transformed her ageless face into something a lot more human.

"I have no idea what Colonel Carter would term my people. Dr Jackson, well, we are all very curious about Dr Jackson. He seems to make a habit of transversing the planes of being. I'm grateful he remains unaware of our existence for now, or he would be looking for ways to join us. And I, for one, do not relish being the object of his study!"

She had Daniel pegged. Jack pictured those vivid blue eyes alight with the thrill of discovery, and that mouth shooting off at 19 to the dozen, faster than the human ear could hear, and felt suddenly terribly homesick.

"How do I get back?" The question was abrupt, all levity banished, and around them the shimmering light took on a deeper, bronze hue. His companion slowed, and for the first time reached out to him. He watched, fascinated, as their arms met and mingled, but refused to be distracted and returned his eyes to hers.

"It is not simple." She was straightforward, he'd give her that.

"Here, you remember everything about yourself, your life. You know Samantha Carter is your wife, after many years of being an unattainable dream. You know Daniel Jackson is your best friend, the only one who truly understands the man beneath the image you project. You know you can trust Teal'c with your life, and have done so, many times. You are you here... but if you go back now, that will be lost. You will no longer be you."

She was watching him carefully, and Jack wondered if avatars should be able to feel the blood draining from their heads, as he had at her words.

"I'll be a vegetable." His voice was flat, and she nodded, not unsympathetically.

"Tell me how to, how to not be. Tell me what to do." His voice is even, but he is begging. He's pleading with her for his life back, and it's the longest moment he's ever experienced before he sees her nod.

"I'm here to offer you a choice." Her voice is low. "First I need to explain something to you though. Every soul experiences many lifetimes, and each lifetime's purpose is to learn a new lesson, which that soul carries forward to the next, and further, lives. The lesson you are meant to learn in your current life is not yet entrenched as a part of your eternal soul, hence, I am able to offer you this option."

She paused. Jack felt slightly dizzy.

"What, exactly, are you offering me?" The question was sincere, with no sign of his usual sarcasm. In return his companion extended her hand, palm up, and replied simply, "A chance to revisit your past lives, General O'Neill. To take again from them the lesson you learned while living them, so that when you awaken in your own body, you are yourself again."

Her eyes were keen as she continued. "Groups of souls tend to travel through lifetimes together, learning from each other in each incarnation. As you return to lives previously lived, you can expect to encounter souls familiar to you in your present lifetime. However, as you will be in the body of the person you were in that particular incarnation, most of your emotions and reactions will be theirs. There will be a small part of that mind given over to you, allowing you to observe the proceedings."

She paused to draw a deep breath and continued. "I must warn you, General, that time is not linear - your past lives may not necessarily be in your chronological past, as you measure it on your plane of existence."

Jack was shaking his head.

"Why?" He met her gaze head-on. "Why am I being offered this opportunity? What makes me special?"

Her eyes softened, and her hand, or rather the shimmering image of it, raised to his cheek. For a second, he could swear he saw tears glistening in her eyes, but then the moment was gone and the hand withdrawn.

"I can tell you this. The members of SG-1, and the others who go through the Stargate and defend you world and your galaxy, are among the most highly advanced souls on your existential plane. You have come on a long, long journey, and it is nearly complete. There are not many lessons left, and it is important that you learn them."

She shifted back from him, and her avatar stood erect.

"Come, General O'Neill. The time for talking is done. Do you accept my offer?"

Jack thought for a moment. Revisit past lives and relearn what factors shaped who he was, or wake a vegetable... not much of a choice, really. He realised he had spoken those last words aloud when his companion smiled, a truly happy smile, and gestured with one hand towards a swirl of light, which was rapidly coalescing into an archway.

"This way, then, General. And good luck!"

He faced the arch, then looked back. "Thank you" he said, sincerely, "and call me Jack, willya?" Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doorway.