Chapter 4

810 AD – England

He rode a large white horse and Julius rode on a dark brown. They were dressed in full battle regalia befitting their ranks as noblemen. They led a small entourage of slaves and carriers behind them.

Julius was still complaining about the horrible sea trip. "I swear, did you have to pick the smallest boat ever built to make the passage. The thing tossed and turned more like my wife…"

"Which one, last wife literally, or are you talking about another life." He interrupted.

"I was referring to Mary." Julius said making a mocking display of offense. "You would insinuate I would speak of any other, my Lord."

"Just checking," He smiled, "Go on with your complaining. I'll be sure to cut your head off in the next poor peasant village we come through."

"You wouldn't dare. Besides, I make sure to cut that fancy tunic you like so much before I go." The two laughed. "Alright, alright, complaining and jolly banter aside why do you feel the need to come back to this dreary island? For all you know that boy was Marcus causing mischief again. Or who knows, maybe Seth is trying to lead you on another goose chase."

"That could be." He responded.

"And…" Julius prompted. "I swear you are either the best or the worst traveling companion I've ever had."

"I do not have anything better to do. My grave had been there for a few thousand years, it will wait and this is interesting. Where is your sense of adventure, man?"

"With my corps during my last adventure." Julius responded.

"When was that anyway?" He asked.

"Oh, about…" Julius didn't get a chance to finish when an arrow flew there the air at him. He leaned to the side just in time to let it go past him and into a slave behind.

"Move to the trees, left!" He bellowed and his horse tor leftward fallowed by Julius. The slaves and servants ran after dropping their loads. A few had weapons and drew them. They made it to cover. The two noblemen ordered everyone to circle up. Normally at this point nobles would take cover in the center but these two stayed mounted outside the circle keeping low to their horses' backs.

"I don't see anyone, you?" Julius spoke to his companion.

"I do not detect anyone or see anyone." An arrow flew through the air and hit his mount in the hindquarters. The horse let out a shriek and broke forward in panic. "DAMN HORSE STOP!" The animal threw itself around and dismounted his rider. He rolled on the ground and came up with his sword at 

the ready. Why cannot I find them? His mind worked over all possibilities for these phantom arrows. Unless their attackers were apparitions than this was devil work of some kind. He started moving back to the group when a bellow came from the hills to the right. Men carrying axes, reaper staffs and other knives descended over it. Judging by their attire they were peasants not even proper bandits. He called to Julius and directed him toward the oncoming attack. He then ran to meet them.

Whatever force that was affecting them, hopefully cold blades could still spill warm blood.

Present day: undisclosed location

The cargo ship hovered in front of a hanger at private air-field. It decloked. The pilot slowly brought the ship in as the doors opened wide to receive it. His commander patted him on the shoulder. "Well done, you are becoming an excellent pilot. You have improved a great deal since we first started."

"Thank you, Sir." The pilot responded. His new commander made him nervous.

"Looks like the Director has come to greet us." The commander moved to the rear of the cargo ship.

Ba'al walked through some doors. He watched the cargo ship land. The side opened and his newest agent exited. The agent ran his hand through his long white hair and smiled. "Hello, Sir."

"It went well I assume." Ba'al stated instead of questioned.

"Of course," he held up a small case. "For you inspection. All the new Ori movements for the last 10 months. The," for a moment he looked sheepish, "- other Ba'al has a nice set up. He inserted me right where I needed to be. Oh and I took care of that annoying problem with that local Jaffa leader."

"You did. Well thank you." Ba'al took the case. "And I have something for you."

"Really," He asked as they walked out of the hanger.

Another Agent, a Goa'uld, was waiting to take the rest of the team and debrief them. The two of them walked side by side as Ba'al elaborated. "In the past 3 months since you joined us our specs have just been improving. Your field work is impeccable, and might I say my," he also smiled somewhat sheepishly, "I have had some great strides with my new empire."

"I try, and a few trouble makers here and there are not a great difficulty and…I don't waste anything." He flexed his hands.

"Good, but I hope you are not too full." He walked to his limo. Ba'al opened the door and gestured for Bill to get in first. He stretched his senses out and picked up someone in the car. He cautiously got in. Ba'al fallowed and closed the door. "How do you like your reward?" Ba'al asked and chuckled.

"Very much…" He reached over and patted the former southern slave on the cheek. "Hello, Jim. Oh but I heard you have a new name, Mr. Fin." He smiled and joined in Ba'al's chuckling.

Farm in Kansas:

Young Jack O'Neill woke up and stretched in his bed. The main house was large and spacious, especially his room. He got up did 30 push-ups and got dressed. Going down stairs he made a B-line to the kitchen. He found a bowl and poured some cornflakes and milk. He sat at the counter to eat.

"Good Morning Campers,"

Jack jumped off the stool he had been sitting and spat his cornflakes out. He spun around and stared at…himself, well an older version of himself…technically a big younger than he remembered himself but still himself. "Damn-it. Do you have to do that every morning? I swear I'm going to put a bell around your neck or something."

"What put you in a foul mood?" The other Jack O'Neill asked loosing the happy tone.

"Nothing..." O'Neill went back to eating his cereal. There was strong sense of discomfort in the room now. Both of the O'Neill's were clearly uncomfortable around each other. It had been this way from the start when young Jack was picked up at the bus stop by older Jack.

Greyhound bus stop: one week ago

Jack got off the bus in Pennsylvania. He went to the back to collect his bags. He grabbed his stuff, two large duffle bags and carried them around the back of the bus. So where is my ride?

"Hey," Jack turned a dark blue MBW with tinted windows was off to the side. Jack couldn't see the drive yelling from inside the car. "Yah, you, Jack, come on lets go."

Jack tentatively carried his stuff to the car. The trunk popped open. He loaded his stuff into the trunk and moved to the passenger side. The door was open. He looked in and his moth dropped. He was looking at himself.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," the other guy said, in Jack's voice. Jack didn't move.

"Hey, guy, I know you haven't expected this, but think how it is from my side. Now come on and get it. I'll take you to the air-port."

"Airport?" Jack echoed, "I just got here."

"Yah, I know but the Boss left instructions. You come here and we both go to the new base."

Jack didn't get into the car yet. "Who are you first?"

"I'm Jack, that's your name too right." It wasn't a question. "Look, Jack, I know this is strange, it is, but you came all this way what is a little farther?" He looked into Jack's eyes, the same eyes as his.

Jack let out a sigh and got into the car. "Okay. Let's go."

Current day: State of Wyoming Community College

He waited outside a class building. Her schedule said that she should be coming out of this door any minute now. He waited. People kept coming in and out. Where is this girl? He looks at his watch, 15 minutes late. What, did she not show up for class or something? This was the second class he tried to catch her coming out of but she still hadn't made an appearance. She wasn't at her home. Did she have a lover that she was staying with?

After 30 minutes of waiting he gave up. Okay this isn't working. If she can't keep a schedule than maybe she isn't worth recruiting. He drove back to the house of his intended target. If he had to play the waiting game he would. He was afraid to ask questions. The last thing he wanted was to let someone know he was looking for this girl. Just find her. That was all he wanted then work his way from there. There were muffled noises coming from his trunk. He ignored them. He drove past the house and parked the car in an isolated location and walked back to the neighborhood. It was easy to climb up into a tree and be concealed in the leaves. Now he would just wait.

It wasn't till 4:00 the next morning when a car pulled up and a young woman who was completely inebriated stumbled out and fell down in her front lawn. He watched as she lied face down in the uncut grass. It was about 5 minutes before she got up and went inside. Not the most impressive person He had ever seen.

He was able to jump from the top of the tree to the roof without making a sound, or much of one. He crouched and lowly made his way to the back. He kept his sense open for anything the hinted something was a threat. No, only one person was inside and her mind was…unbalanced. Drugs.

He hopped down to the back patio where he was hidden from prying eyes by the fence also in need of repair. The back door was surprisingly unlocked. Well not surprising given the nice neighborhood and the occupant was a slob. The house looked like a wreck from the inside. Dirty unwashed dishes were piled high and the garbage had not been taken out in some time. He made no noise as he moved through the house like a spirit. He saw the young woman passed out on the couch.

Standing straight he turned off the lights and drew the curtains closed. He approached the young woman. In the dark his eyes picked up many details that human eyes would not have. Her face was heavily made up, and she reeked of alcohol and smoke. Her cloths barley covered her body and she looked like she hadn't eaten well in some time. He looked over her. Unimpressive.

He reached his hand down and pulled some hair away from her face. She would have been so pretty if she wasn't so…damaged. He thought it over. If she disagreed, he could leave her thinking it was all a dream. If she agreed such a person would not be missed, she was already self destructive, someone had to know this and if there was any investigation that person would say she was a self destructive individual and probably disappeared on her own.

He gave her head a little shake. "Wake up, Young Lady. Wake up." He tried to be as gentile and soft in voice as he could. "Young lady, wake up."

"Hm…go away…"

He stopped. A stranger wakes you up in your own home and you just say go away…

Cassandra Fraiser woke up in a bed. Been a while since that happened. She flopped over. Wow she was in her own bed. She looked under the covers, she was in a nightgown. Her mind was a bit fuzzy then, blinding pain was in her head. She just fell back into the pillow, her hangover was miserable and she just braised against it. She laid there in misery till she realized that she was not alone.

Despite how painful it was she looked up from her bed and across the room sitting in a mettle fold out chair was a man she had never seen before. He was reading a book…a pink book with a hello kitty on the front… "That's my diary!" The outburst cost her another jolt of pain in her head for moving and in her ears from the noise.

The man looked up and closed the book. "Yes, it is," he confirmed and set the book down on the floor. He had several bottles of water next to the chair and picked one up and twisted the top. "I believe some water might help with your head, young lady." He got up out of the chair and came to her bed side. He offered her the bottle.

She took it and guzzled down the liquid. "Hah," she breathed through her mouth. "Who are you any way…why you in my house?" If she was disturbed for afraid she didn't show it.

He looked down at her. "At the moment looking after you. You fell face first into the lawn then the couch. I felt that sleeping in that costume for lack of a better description was not the best way to spend a night."

Cassandra's eyes opened with realization, she looked under the covers again, the nightgown… "You undressed me…you pervert…" she tried to slap him but he was already out of range and sitting back in his chair. And the pain of such movements was more than Cassandra could bear.

"Yes, I did. And bathed you, and chained your sheets, they were most…" he made a face, "pungent. When was the last time you did your own laundry?"

"What's it to you…you…" she couldn't finish because of the pain in her head.

"Nothing much, but I like to get to know people before I make them offers. I have made some mistakes of late in regards to personnel and people I place my trust in." He smiled. "I wonder, how often to you wake up with such a 'hangover' I believe the word is?"

"None of your business." She bit it out. "You saw me naked…"

"Don't worry, I didn't take your virtue. Something hints that that was already lost." He sounded smug. He was goading her. But there was no response. Either she didn't care or it went right over her head. Why am I considering her again? "Some more water?"

They spent the morning like that. Cassandra too weak to get out of bed and Him being patronizing and asking questions. Cassandra answered only a few.

"Well, it is about lunch time. Why don't I fix you something to eat and then we talk about your future?" he stood up.

"Oh, God you are one of those guys…"

"What guys do you refer to." He asked unperturbed.

"One of those 'you have a future, don't throw it away,' guys. I don't need to hear any more of that crap."

"I agree, and you are both right and wrong. I'll make something then we will talk more." He turned and walked out. Cassandra looked to see if He was gone. When she saw he was she reached for the phone on her night stand. She got it to her ear and was about to dial when she realized there was no signal. She looked at the phone. The cord that plugged into the wall was gone…

Lunch was just basic PB&J. "Sorry but you did not have much." He apologized and bit into his sandwich. He had toasted the bread. Cassandra looked at the bread, it was practically charred. "I should have asked if you like toast."

"I like toast just not charcoal." Despite it she bit into the sandwich and chewed. "So…what's your…deal." She spoke with her mouth full of goo.

He swallowed and took a sip from his own bottle of water. "I'm here looking for people to help me in a venture." He pointed at her. "You had been a person of interest to me."

"Had been?" Cassandra echoed him.

"Yes, 'had been', I have no need for people who get drunk on a regular basis."

"Than what are you doing here?" Cassandra asked. Her head was feeling a bit better.

"What do you know of the happenings in StarGate Command?" He looked at her with a blank yet serious face.

Cassandra was too shocked to respond. It was several moments before she could think of something to say, "What?"

"I know of your history, Miss Fraiser." He leaned back and spoke as if he was reciting something from a file. "Cassandra Fraiser, adopted daughter of Janet Frasier…only child…age 23…goes to community college…closest family friend, Samantha Carter…has been attending private and group counseling since mothers presumed death…" He stopped. "Do I need to go on?"

"Who the hell are you?" Cassandra spoke in a whisper…then she caught the word he used when talking about her mother, "presumed death…what are you talking about?!"

He looked unfazed buy her change in demeanor from someone not completely there to being almost psychotically attentive. If she wasn't still in pain from the hangover she might have lunged for him. "I am an individual who at present is working for the TRUST. Do you know what that is?" Cassandra just looked blankly at him. "I'll explain. It is an organization that is made up of former NID agents, as well as military personnel who wanted to take a more 'aggressive' stand against the Goa'uld. Unfortunately they were infiltrated by the very enemy they sought to fight now their leadership is controlled by the Goa'uld. Many of their operatives and agents, in key places of the government either do not know or do not care about these unproven roomers. They have considerable financial backing from both private companies and small militant countries. Primarily the Goa'uld share the same intention as the agents themselves did, protect earth. This is of course more to do with the Goa'uld considering earth to be their new home world rather than any care for its people."

He stopped to see if she was taking all this in. "What does this have to do with my mother?" she said so low it could have been a whisper.

He continued to look completely serious yet show no emotion what so ever. "Janet Fraiser, was shot by a staff weapon on an alien planet. She was brought back through the stargate and declared dead. It is on record that she was buried and a funeral was performed that was recorded for posterity. What actually happened was a Trust operative acquired the body at the mortuary and replaced it. If you recall your mother had a closed casket funeral. Janet Fraiser was resurrected by use of a sarcophagus that the Trust acquired off world, then her body was implanted with a Goa'uld. With her codes and in depth knowledge of the SGC profiles were generated on almost all SGC personnel of the time. It allowed the Trust to start off larger operations with the confidence they could manipulate the SGC to do what they wanted."

Again He stopped and watched her Reactions. There were many of them. Cassandra's face showed fear, anger, rage, regret, and many other emotions. She had no idea that He was reaching out and sensing everything that was going on in her mind. How her eyes dropped then filled with tears and she silently cried. When she was finally done she looked almost as stone cold as He did. "Do you have any proof? Anything to show me that will keep me from calling the cops and…" she didn't finish, more tears were starting to fall.

"No, the Trust monitors things very carefully. I am only able to go on my own because I insisted on it…and I'm able to literally disappear when I wish."

"Why should…I believe you?" She looked at him hard. "You could be lying."

"I could, but think about this. I'm offering you hope that your mother is still alive and if you come with me, I will make sure you get a chance to save her. And besides, your life here is pathetic anyway. You have nothing to lose, that you consider valuable. Your friends can't be all that important because if they were they wouldn't let you live the way you do. Your support structure is all but gone with Col. Carter off world. You aren't going to school…you get drunk and put on bad make-up. I suspect that this is your way of trying to make the pain stop. The pain of losing your world not once but twice to the Goa'uld. Now do you want to fight back?"

Note: hope you all liked it. Thanks for the last reviews. The team is almost complete and soon we will get some more action. There is one more character I want to bring back and at least one more memory from the 800s. Enjoy.