Sparks flew from the tip of the axe, bright in the dim light of the mine. Skaara was used to beating his fury against the rock, each swing fueled by anger, controlled to produce a steady rhythm that would sap his strength slowly with every blow. By days end he would have just enough energy to eat his meal and collapse into bed. Those precious moments during meal times were the only times that his friends had to spend with him, and yet he closed himself off, preferring silence and solitude over the comfort of shared mourning. Skaara hated himself for his behavior, yet he could do nothing to stop himself.

"We need to talk."

Skaara looked up from his gruel as Msandei sat down amidst the clatter of dishes and cutlery being dropped onto the table.

"I don't want to talk." Skaara said, resuming his meal.

"Don't care." No amount of kindness or compassion had been able to open Skaara up, and he would become angry when pressed. Msandei decided that Skaara was no longer allowed to decide if he would talk or not, and so was prepared to deal with a bit of hostility. Skaara glared at him.

"It's not your fault."

"He was an idiot. Of course it's not my fault."

"Then why do you keep beating yourself up about it?"

"I'm not beating myself up!" Skaara's response was fierce.

"Bullshit."

Msandei took his silence for a response.

"Why do you eat alone? Why do you push yourself to exhaustion? You are not to blame."

"I'm just … angry. I need to do something, to take my mind off of things, I think." Skaara lay down his spoon and stared miserably into his food. "I hate feeling helpless."

"What more could you have done, you were stuck here."

"That's not what I meant, dammit!" Skaara said, "I hate knowing that no matter how angry I am, that no matter how tired I am, I can do nothing to change things."

Msandei stared at his friend for a long moment. "We can survive."

Skaara scowled at him. "So what."

"What I mean is that we've been free before. We will be free again one day."

"Yes, yes, one day, sure, but not today, and not tomorrow, and not any time soon."

With that Skaara picked up his dishes and left the table.

/ / /

Jack and Charles waited until the rumble of the vans had faded away before speaking.

"Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain," Jack said to the group of men standing before him. They had just arrived, having been driven here from Peterson. The stench of exhaust filled the cavernous tunnel.

"Follow me; I'll be taking you to the command center." Jack spun on his heel and walked through the door behind him.

The others followed, with Charles at the end. There was little conversation, though the long ride through the service tunnel amused the soldiers. Jack went with the first group down the elevator, and waited until Charles showed up with the last group before moving on.

They went down a short corridor and entered the observation room. Jack walked across the room to the large windows that dominated the far wall. As he turned around Hammond walked out of his office, followed by a slightly tall blonde servicewoman, and joined the colonel.

"Welcome to Stargate Command, your new home. This is General Hammond." Jack gestured to his boss, a smile playing on his lips. He opened his mouth, inhaled some air, looked like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth and faced forward again.

"Thank you, Colonel," Hammond said, slightly puzzled, "Please, gentlemen, have a seat."

They arranged themselves around the table, with the soldiers clustered together, facing the windows. Hammond sat at the head of the table, Jack took a seat near him, and Charles sat at the foot of the table. Hammond introduced the woman as Weterings as she brought a stack of folders over and took a seat next to Hammond.

"You all have an exemplary military record," Hammond said, once the folders had been passed around, "but a record alone is not why we chose you for this mission. You have all demonstrated discretion, but that too, is not enough. What sets you apart, why we chose you, is your desire to explore and understand. Some of you have focused on learning how to integrate with a population, to blend in. Others have focused on technological areas, such as space and the deep oceans. We need you to bring all of your skills to bear on our current situation."

Hammond stopped then, and stared down. After a moment he looked up and into the eyes of each of the men.

"We have recently begun using an alien artifact to visit other planets. That device is called a stargate, and you can see it right through those windows over there."

Puzzled, the soldiers looked at each other. Slowly they started to rise, and then suddenly they all left the table and went to the windows.

"It's the round thing in the middle," Hammond said, eyeing Jack and Charles, a twinkle in his eye.

"This must be a joke," a tall, dark haired man labeled Fischer said.

"I can assure you that this is absolutely real. If you don't believe me, wait twenty four hours, because that's when you'll be stepping through the gate." All of them turned to face Hammond. "Please, take a seat."

"I know that this is a lot to take in. Yes, there are alien intelligences out there, and yes, some of them want to do us harm. While we have had the stargate itself for several decades, it wasn't until two years ago that we figured out how to work it. I'm here to fill you in on the history of the gate, and what we will be expecting to face out there. After that, Colonel's O'Neill and Kawalski will take you around the base, introduce you to some of the people you'll be working with, that sort of stuff. After that, it will be getting ready for the mission."

Hammond eyed his new soldiers. They had sat, hesitantly, around the table. A few stood, glancing at the windows and then quickly away again.

"So this definitely isn't a joke, then?" Fischer asked, voice low, almost a whisper.

"No son, no it isn't." Hammond replied. They sat, and listened, some pale, others stoic, as Hammond continued. A few, Mosley, Cote, didn't even open their folders, and sat staring into the distance or blankly at George. Hammond continued, explaining the history of the gate. After he was finished he leaned back, watching the men.

There was silence at first, then one tentative hand rose up, followed by another, and then another. For another hour they sat there, answering questions. Despite implying otherwise, Hammond had no intention of sending anyone through the gate who was not capable of handling such a mission. He spent as much time as the soldiers needed answering questions, to help them cope and to assess their acceptance of the revelation.

Charles stayed with Hammond as Jack showed them the gate room, trying to figure out who was holding up best. He rejoined the group as the came back up the stairs and headed up a level, to where the majority of offices were. That night the soldiers slept in the mountain, one room converted into a temporary barracks. Charles and Jack made a point of speaking with each soldier individually. They tactfully informed those most anxious that only volunteers step through the gate – they could take some time to get used to the idea that Earth is not alone.

Jack and Charles were pleasantly surprised to see that most of the men were already up and getting ready when they went to wake them. In half an hour all but three were ready and assembled in the observation room. Charles elected to join the men who stayed behind while Jack went with the rest.

"Gentlemen, this is a turning point in human history," Hammond said. "When you step through that gate you will enter a new world. Metaphorically, this is grand. But in real terms, this mission is easy. There is no one on the planet, all your tasks have been planned and practiced.

"That doesn't matter. Today we take our first steps into the galaxy, ready and willing to take the fight to the enemy. Good luck."

With that the soldiers went down the stairs and into the gate room. Hammond watched from the control room as they assembled. He smiled slightly at the cheer that went up when the drone was launched. A few minutes later and he watched as Jack led them through the gate.

The SGC was busy for the next two days. There was a scheduled check-in at one hour into the mission, and another four hours later. This second contact would last forty five minutes, allowing enough time for data transfers and oral reports. This was done again that night, the following morning, noon, and evening. Forty eight hours after they left, the men returned and the mission was complete.

/ / /

"My son…"

Skaara looked up from his private musings to see his father standing, silhouetted in the light streaming through the doorway. He closed the door and Skaara could see the anguish on his face. One hand was outstretched, wilting slightly in uncertainty.

"Father…" Skaara began, and stopped, having heard the tremble in his voice. In a moment Kasuuf was there before him, and before Skaara could rise fully from his seat his father was pushing him back down, and grasping him by his wrist, other hand sliding up the arm and coming to rest on Skaara's shoulder; with head bowed Kasuuf knelt before his son.

Skaara could think of nothing to say. To be shown such subservience, from his own father no less, in condolence for his grief, was more than Skaara could handle. Unsure what to do he stood, pulling his father up with him. Looking at each other, a moment's hesitation, and then they pulled together in embrace.

A moment was all it was, and then they parted.

"Thank you." Skaara said.

"I am sorry. I wish …" Kasuuf trailed off, unsure of what to say next. He glanced around the room, hoping to see Shau're.

"I …" he began again, but Skaara stopped him.

"I know. I wish too." Skaara gave his father a sad smile. "I haven't eaten yet?"

Kasuuf wasn't hungry. Instead he prepared food for his son, and served him drink. Little was said. Noon passed and soon Kasuuf roused himself.

"I must go. There are many I need speak with." The look of pleading was clear. Kasuuf was begging forgiveness for leaving.

Skaara smiled again, and grasped his father's hand. "I understand. There are those I need to speak with as well."

Taken aback, "Well, yes. Thank you." Kasuuf was almost out the door before he stopped, and turned, brow furrowed in worry.

"My son?"

Shifting in his seat, "It's not that. It's just … I need to be with others right now." He looked up, eyes wide, "I mean, it's just they knew him, and I knew them and …"

It was Kasuuf's turn to smile, and say "I understand."

"I know that what he did was stupid, I really do." Skaara said. Kasuuf closed the door.

"But at the same time I understand. I know, I know, why he did it. I hate feeling helpless. I just want to do something." Skaara stopped then, and looked at the floor. His father watched him.

"I want to be strong. Really I do, but I don't think I can be. How do you do it?"

Kasuuf was startled. "Do what?"

"Go around, every day, talking to people, helping them. This sucks, and yet you never stop trying to make it better. I try, I tell my friends, I tell myself, to keep it together, that we can make it. But I just can't believe … I'm so tired. I just want to rest. I don't know how you keep going." With that Skaara collapsed in on himself and resumed staring into nothing.

"My son …" Kasuuf began.

"I am sorry father. I have kept you." Skaara turned away, trying to disguise the fact that he had to wipe away a tear.

"No, they can wait. I am here now. Speak, please."

"I, I, I just need. I'm sorry. I should have spoken earlier. Now I'm making you late and …"

"It is fine, my …"

"No, really, I'm fine, I …"

"I can stay …"

"Please," Skaara said, looking at his father. "I know you would stay. It's fine. Go, please. We can talk later…"

"Tonight?" Kasuuf interjected.

"Tomorrow," Skaara said, slight smile playing on his face. "Tonight I was going to spend time with …"

"Tomorrow then." Kasuuf looked at his son then, his smile a mixture of pride and the realization that though your child does not always need your comfort they sometimes want it anyway.