Jackson
Junior: Threads, by DrGemini86Summary: Sequel
to Jackson Junior: I'm Right Here, and prequel to Jackson Junior.
Set initially in Reckoning Part II, as the fates of two of the most
important men in her life hang in limbo, Sam comes to a decision.
Meanwhile, Daniel presses Oma for the truth but in true Oma-fashion,
she doesn't deliver. Like I'm Right Here, this fills in the gaps
in the canon, and quite possibly runs away with the story. I just
feel that, in this chapter especially, Daniel would have tried a
little more to reason with RepliCarter (even if he doesn't succeed)
but because of the action-packed nature of the two-parter, there
wasn't time for it on screen.
Pairings: SamDaniel
UST, one-sided SamJack UST, JackKerry
Rating:
T
Spoilers: the Movie, and seasons
1-8A/N: Any similarity between this and
Amaranth Traces' Ouroboros is unintentional, but by all means read
that for a really cool SamDaniel version of the events from Reckoning
to Moebius – it'll blow your socks off. Moebius is done so well
by Amaranth that I didn't have the heart to do it here. : ) Anyway,
had to write this instalment of the Jackson Junior story after
reading the transcript for Threads and coming across that part of the
oh-so infamous flag-scene (or rather the prelude to it), where
Daniel's disembodied voice says that he didn't pause the base's
self-destruct… The idea that the Others finally pulled their
collective finger out and did something kind of fits in with what's
now the sixth story in this series (Commanders) where we get to see
these ever elusive Others (plus a few surprises). Anyhow, this story
fills out something from near the end of Jackson Junior, and in
Commanders too.
--------------------
Coming face-to-face with her was just about the most terrifying thing that Daniel Jackson had ever done. It was funny, in a way, considering that his life hadn't exactly been the Wonder Years to begin with, or even close, what with the death of his parents at a very young age, his being abandoned to the potentially treacherous minefield that was the US Foster Care system during the seventies by his career-centric Grandpa, and a fairly roughshod life through the education system albeit at a quicker pace than most others before being laughed out of academia because of his supposedly outlandish and implausible theories.
And, especially after he had had more than a half of a bottle of Jack's 'special brew', anyone who had the slightest shred of sanity was wise not to get him started about his manifold and multiform misfortunes after opening the Stargate… let's see, he had lost his wife and brother-in-law after stupidly opening the 'gate again and then leaving them alone while he had had the time of his life explaining his theories to his new friends. Oh, and then while he was searching for said wife, he had allowed himself to be… violated by Sha're's new albeit unwanted and undesired mother-in-law, and if he hadn't already learnt his lesson, he had got engaged after stupidly getting addicted to a Sarcophagus and nearly blowing Jack's brains out during his withdrawal phase… yah, that was a barrel of laughs… nearly killing someone who was a brother to him. Oh… oh, and then what happened when…
Yeesh, he had to stop beating himself up whilst that was being done for him by her. So… back to where he had been initially… RepliCarter was, ironically, the most terrifying thing that he had ever encountered. The fact that she was a cold, brutal killing machine with designs to dominating the galaxy and beyond was second to the fact that she looked and sounded exactly like… her.
Yet again, the woman he loved had been compromised by the enemy, but this time, it wasn't a Goa'uld or even a mesh of extraterrestrial digital circuits, but a Replicator facsimile of his beloved, whose creator had raped her of her likeness and memories, and given them to this… this copy, this evil, twisted fruitcake of a Terminator…
Oh, how ironic. Terminator. Hadn't he watched that with her the night before the mission to act as observers aboard Bra'tac's ship? Life was one cruel, sick, twisted weirdo with a well-known video streaming account sometimes.
She was using Sam to get to him, using her likeness, her voice and her memories to lull him into a false sense of security. His Sam wasn't evil nor was she a megalomaniac. This woman… this thing was nothing like her at all, because Sam had inner beauty whilst this was a cheap facsimile. Sam was everything that RepliCarter wasn't and could never hope nor wish to be – beautiful, kind, caring, human, and a true friend. How could this… wrench claim to be like her, even in the smallest iota?
His priority now was for his friends to triumph, even if it meant laying down his life… again. There was nothing that he could do about the likelihood of getting off the Replicator ship alive, but he could delay what could very well be the inevitable – RepliCarter getting hold of the Superweapon. To destroy one Sam, he had to help the other, the real one.
In a similar manner to her predecessor, RepliCarter, having not made any headway with her shockingly precise Oma impression, stabbed him in the head and pillaged his mind, raping it for lack of a better term to gain the knowledge that she knew was there, the knowledge that could make or break the galaxy.
He was going to die anyway so what was the point of holding back? As she pushed into his mind, he pushed back, looking for a way to give his friends the upper hand. What he saw on the way shocked him – a jumble, a mass of memories, some that he recognised, some that he worked out, and others that he hadn't a clue about. All of that was mixed in with cold, dark and metallic inhumanity and delusions of grandeur which filled the gaps and suffocated the relatively small human part of her psyche.
This definitely wasn't Sam… as if that was in question.
He forced himself to focus as he hoped at the back of his mind that the crazy machine lady hadn't found anything of interest in his mind, and he concentrated on helping his friends, to give them a fighting chance. She, panicking despite her lack of humanity, tried to pull way but he wasn't going to let her get away that easily, not when he had just found a way to get the upper hand in this mismatched confrontation.
Only, it wasn't as easy as Ferretti's emailed satirical How-to Guides on SG field operations would have made out had one been concocted by the head of SG-2 for this very situation. Daniel idly reminded himself to inspire the Colonel with 'How to anger a Replicator double of your Best Friend and Secret Love', naturally omitting the last three words unless he wanted to lose her again, as well as earning Jack's fists of fury.
He struggled and she gloated, knowing that he wasn't strong enough to handle controlling so many Replicators, tallying to mind boggling numbers far exceeding that of rats in the continental United States... how ironic.
"You're weak, just like her, and the idea that you prefer her is laughable at the very least. You humans are pathetic creatures."
Straining as he began to lose the struggle, he shot back through gritted teeth, his head feeling worse than the morning after trying Jack's moonshine, "If anyone is pathetic, it's you… You're not Sam, you're not even human."
She narrowed her eyes menacingly as she replied in cold fury as their surroundings changed dramatically into the dark, cold environs of a Replicator ship from the relatively peaceful replica of the Vis Uban tent, "I am Samantha Carter. I share her memories, her hopes, her dreams. All humans desire power. Do you still not believe that she desires this, the power to rule, the power to do whatever she pleases and not be subservient to anyone? To have her abilities rewarded instead of smothered or accredited to someone else? My dear Archaeologist, I am Samantha Carter, whether you wish to believe it or not, and believe me now when I say that she would like nothing more than to escape the shackles of her dull life and to be free among the stars to rule supreme."
"Yeah, right."
She stepped towards him, purpose in her step as he found himself held by Replicator blocks, the man scared at the way that she sounded exactly like Sam and looked like her to boot, and she continued, her voice softer, "You can free yourself too, Daniel. Rule by my side, and together we will rule the Universe… you can have everything that you have dreamt of this past year, something that that weak human is too scared to give you… I can give you everything."
Dang, she knew how to pull his strings.
He straightened up, saying as he remembered his friends, one in particular, and he said, his voice hoarse with barely suppressed emotion, "No."
She raised an eyebrow at him in the same way that Sam did when Jack had done or said something stupider than usual (which was saying something), and she said, looking sceptical, "No?"
"That's what I said."
"Well, that's too bad, Daniel… you are very cute and with that Ancient knowledge in your head…"
Louder and a little more violently than before, he interrupted her, saying, "No! I will not be your… your Consort. I will not help you to destroy and oppress. The Sam that I know wouldn't do that. Look inside yourself – you have her memories and…"
Cold fury intensifying, she shot back, "The Samantha Carter that you know is weak."
Almost stamping his foot, he threw his arms down and said, "No! No, she isn't! She's the strongest woman, no, person that I know! Come on, you have her memories, you know what she's been through, what she's capable of, what…"
"She desires power, the ability to control her destiny yet she is too scared to attain it, therefore she is weak. Fear is weakness. I have no fear, therefore I am strong."
"You're nuts."
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, each knowing that death could soon be involved, and she said, "You are weak too, Daniel Jackson. You have a great many fears… Join me, and your fears will mean nothing compared to the vast territories you could rule over with me at your side."
As the Replicator blocks holding him retracted, releasing him, he stepped forward, looking at her, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity on his face, and she raised an eyebrow briefly as if to say 'very well' in reply to his 'hell no'. Her arm morphed into a knife, which made him inwardly blanch and make a mental note never to watch Terminator again if he found someway to survive this, which didn't look likely at the moment.
With a grim, knowing albeit slight smile on her face, she plunged the cold metal into his stomach, taking a grim, inhuman satisfaction in watching him die.
As the sharp, all-consuming pain in his stomach began to fade, life ebbing away from him, his last thought was of Sam, the real McCoy, and he hoped that he had given her and the rest of his friends a good chance against the metal scourge.
RepliCarter's satisfaction was cut short as she and her surroundings suddenly found themselves permanently disassembled in the cold vacuum of Space, scattered across eternity with no hope of reassembly.
