Jack looked around the place he'd 'gated to, taking in the stunned gazes of Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard and wondering why everything looked so familiar and why he was feeling like he'd just run a ten mile marathon. Then he passed out.
When he woke up, he found he felt much better, though his mouth seemed to be full of cotton and he wasn't sure where he was at. It looked like an infirmary, but was it the SGC? He stared at the ceiling in concentration for a minute before his recent memories returned. He wasn't in the SGC, he wasn't even in the same galaxy, much less the same planet. He was on Atlantis. At least he thought he was on Atlantis, he sort of remembered seeing Dr. Weir and Sheppard.
He also remembered being so drained he couldn't even stand up straight, much less conscious, and passing out. Well, that would explain his being in the infirmary. He sat up and scowled at the room in general. There wasn't anyone there to receive it however, so he quit and settled to observe. Someone would be along shortly to check on him, he knew from experience, but for now he was glad to be on his own.
Like the one at the SGC, there was medical equipment piled from corner to corner, the machines that were assigned a task, beeping softly as it worked. From where he was sitting, he could see six other beds, and one of them was occupied with machinery and wires surrounding the occupant so he couldn't tell who it was or if he knew them. A frown creased his face, and he slowly rose from the bed. As if an outside source was controlling him, he began walking towards the other bed until he found himself standing beside it looking down on the patient.
It was Dr. Rodney McKay. His face was pale and it looked as though he were having trouble breathing. A wide bandage covered his chest and arm, and Jack suddenly found himself taking it off. He sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sight. It was a staff blast wound, but it wasn't normal. It looked as though it were eating the flesh around it alive, growing larger as more time went by.
Again, that strange intuition drew his will and he raised a trembling hand and placed it over the wound. Instantly, he found himself seeing the wound as though through a microscope. The skin and muscle cells, the platelets and blood cells, and the flesh-eating bacteria that had been introduced to the wound were all laid out in his mind. Then, using his own energy, he killed the bacteria before it could spread further and encouraged stem cells to differentiate and move towards the wound, rapidly healing it until nothing was left but a small scar.
Jack fell to the ground in a slump, that drained feeling having come over him again, but he forced himself back to his feet. There was still the fever to deal with. Before he could continue however, a hand gently pulled him away and he turned to stare into a concerned pair of dark eyes. Dr. Beckett, his mind supplied from somewhere in the distance. He tried to shake the hand off, but it was insistant.
"I'll take it from here, General," the doctor said softly, awe coloring his tone, "you look dead on your feet."
Jack instantly snapped out of the semi-trance he'd been in and stared at Beckett as though the man had grown a second head. Then he sighed and sat down on the next bed over. "I did it again, didn't I?" He couldn't keep the petulance from his tone. Damn it! He did not need this.
"No," Beckett said after watching him with concern, "You didn't. At least, I don't think you did. You're MRI appears normal."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "There's a 'but' in there somewhere," he said dryly and gave a wry grin.
The Scot didn't respond to the humor, but answered him seriously, "Yes, there is. Somehow you deactivated the shield that protects our 'gate in a similar manner as your iris protects your 'gate. And now, you've just healed a wound I was almost certain was going to cripple this man for life, if not kill him outright."
Jack shook his head. "How am I able to do all that if I don't have the Ancient's knowledge, right?"
Beckett gave his own wry grin this time, "Right in one. I've been going over your charts again, since you and that Ancient woman were the basis from which I found the ATA gene, but I just can't find anything, except that marker the Asgard said they had put in your DNA to protect you from genetic experiments."
As soon as Beckett said 'Asgard', Jack suddenly had an image of one of the little grey aliens stooping over him, as though checking if he were all right. It was Loki. Jack pushed it to the back of his mind and came back to the present. "Well, let me know what you find, okay? In the meantime, I'd like to have a word with Dr. Weir."
The doctor hesitated a moment, before nodding reluctantly. "Well, all right. You seem to be doing all right now, and she did need to have a word with you as well. But if you start feeling at all tired," he held up a warning finger, "you are to come right back here. Understood?"
Jack grinned. "Ya sure ya betcha."
"I mean it, General. If I find you've disobeyed me, I'm going to sedate you and confine you here."
"All right, all right," Jack held up his hands in a placating manner, "I promise. If I get tired, I'll come back. Promise."
"I'll have someone lead you to Dr. Weir then."
Jack nodded and looked once more at the sleeping man he had just healed. What the hell was going on?
Jon sat on a chair outside the general's office as the people inside discussed the situation. He had told Daniel what Frere had done and the archaeologist had rushed him down to the SGC after telling of Jack being missing for longer than the week he'd been forced to take off. They'd looked everywhere; his cabin, his house, Sarah's house…but no one had seen him. Then the Asgard had contacted them asking if they'd seen Thor. Of course, the Asgard hadn't told them of Loki's escape, but everyone had been certain Thor's and Jack's disappearances were somehow related.
Now they were more than certain. They were positive, and it had something to do with Loki. Unfortunately, Jon had been forced to wait outside while General Hammond, Major Davis, and his old team conferred over possible plans of action. Jon snorted and kicked his foot against the chair like he did whenever he was sent to the vice-principal's office. What? Were they just going to go out and politely ask Loki to return their friends?
Incoming wormhole!
Jon jumped slightly as the klaxons went off. He'd forgotten how loud those things were, and he rubbed his ear as the people walked out and made their way into the control room, ignoring him. Jon scowled after them, then stood up and followed. He might be a clone, and he might be like thirty or so years younger than the man they were used to, but hey. He still had his recent tactical memories, even if he couldn't recall them as well as he used to.
Once in the control room, he stood just behind Teal'c and Daniel, and looked between them down at the 'gate room. Bra'tac and one of the Tok'ra he couldn't stand (what was his name again? Oh yeah, Merrick) were speaking quickly with Carter and General Hammond.
"What's going on?" he asked Daniel.
"No idea," the archaeologist said absently, "Though I'm surprised the Tok'ra actually showed up, and with a Jaffa."
"You are?"
Daniel turned and gave him an odd look, and Teal'c put in, "The Tok'ra have broken off relations with us for the time being. They do not believe we are worthy of a continued alliance."
"Oh. Sounds like them." Jon frowned and then asked, "What about Jacob?"
"No idea," Daniel repeated.
Jon sighed and folded his arms across his chest. Surely Daniel hadn't been this insolent when he'd been older, had he? Well, whether or not he had, Jon was tired of being treated like a child when he had the freakin' memories of a fifty year old man. "Look," he insisted, "I might not be as tall as Jack is, and I might even use a slightly different name, but I still have his memories."
"Indeed," agreed Teal'c who gave him a half-smile, "However, you do not possess his most recent memories and they may be what Loki is after. As to what is happening in the 'gate room, neither DanielJackson or I know as we cannot hear what they are saying."
Properly chastised, Jon looked away. Then he looked back up at the tall Jaffa. "Wait. What do you mean his most recent memories are the ones Loki would be after? What'd he do, get his head sucked by one of those Ancient things again?"
"Indeed."
"Oh."
After some minutes, the four in the 'gate room made their way up into the briefing room, and Jon followed when Teal'c, Daniel, and Davis went up after them. When no one told him to get lost, he took an empty seat between Teal'c and Daniel.
"Okay people," Hammond began, looking haggard, "We have problems. Merrick and Bra'tac have just informed us that Ba'al has entered into a trade agreement with an Asgard."
"Let me guess," Jon said dryly, "Loki."
"Right," Hammond said, "And that's not all. Apparently, Loki knows the way to the Pegasus galaxy and has told Ba'al. Whether or not that's true, Ba'al's fleet has disappeared."
"Many rebel Jaffa were stationed as spies within Ba'al's services," Bra'tac said, "And we have lost contact with them all."
"The same has happened with our own spy," Merrick agreed.
"Whose name you can't give us," Daniel remarked bitterly.
Jon gave him an odd look then returned his attention to Hammond. "Look, if Loki's got Jack and Thor, and he's in league with Ba'al, then…"
"And if Loki really does know about Atlantis and has told Ba'al…"
"Then there are a lot of innocent people who have no idea what's coming at them," Carter finished, looking quite fierce, "We have to do something! We've got the new engines for the Prometheus put in, it's capable of intergalactic travel now…"
"I understand all that, Colonel," Hammond told her gently, "But my hands are tied. Right now, the only means of defense this planet has is the Prometheus, and we have no way of knowing if this is some sort of trap to make us vulnerable."
"Maybe we can get the Asgard to help," Jon said thoughtfully, "I mean, they're supposed to be looking after us right?"
"We've already tried," Daniel said, still sounding bitter, "But they're not answering now."
"Sir," Carter said, "with all due respect, I believe it's worth the risk. If Ba'al were to get his hands on the Ancient technology we believe is present in the Pegasus galaxy, the Prometheus won't help us out. We'll be in the same position as we were when Anubis attacked, if not worse since we don't know what kind of weapons he can find or make."
Hammond sighed, but he smiled slightly as he did so. "Very well, I'll make that recommendation."
And so ends chapter three. Thanks everyone so much for your reviews.