Revised 10.5.04

CHAPTER 22 – Resurectionis

General Hammond watched as the team started lowering themselves down the elevator shaft. His initial elation had long since turned grim. On the plus side, they had been able to clear the debris, and get the upper elevators working again. On the minus side - the SGC had survived. Mostly.

But there had been almost two hundred people on the base when disaster had struck. So far, Ferretti had managed to locate 180 of them. Three of the known survivors were severely wounded, and half a dozen more had minor injuries. It was very light toll all things considered, he tried to tell himself.

Sooner or later, though, they'd start finding the bodies. There was just the slight problem of one missing level – Level 19. Where Samantha Carter's lab was located. And where Colonel O'Neill had been heading when all hell had broken loose.

Of course, the very fact that anything at all of the base had survived should be grounds for thanks, George Hammond reflected. He just wished the casualties hadn't included his flagship team. How ironic that SG-1 should die here, on Earth, after all their battles across the galaxy – no, make that galaxies. Hell, make that universes, he thought remembering some of their adventures in parallel universes through the quantum mirror.

He felt torn – unable to watch, yet wanting to know for sure. In the end though, he decided duty called. Reluctantly, he turned, and headed back to the control center.

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He tried to open his eyes. They wouldn't open – in fact, he couldn't move at all. Who was he? Where was he? He tried desperately to remember what had happened.

Then it started coming back to him. He – Colonel Jack O'Neill - had felt the buzzing sensation that signaled the use of an Asgard transporter. Was he dreaming, he wondered. This had all happened before – but hadn't he been rescued?

Jack started to panic - where had Maybourne-Lanthos beamed him back from this time? No, he screamed in his mind, no, not again, don't repair the damage, let me die. I will never serve the Goa'uld. Never. But in his heart, he knew it was useless: sooner or later, he would break, and give the Goa'uld who had taken over Maybourne's body what he wanted, namely, control of Thor's ship.

Jack whimpered again, as the fever raged in his brain. This had to be a dream. Remember, he told himself. The Asgard pulled you out. You were home, recovering under the tender ministrations of Dr Fraiser. You stopped the self-destruct, he told himself. You were stopping the bomb that Lt Adams had set.

Yeah, so, if this is a dream, how come you got beamed up this time, his immobile body screamed back at him. Face it, this is reality. That was just another dream.

He wondered again how Lanthos had managed to get onboard Thor's ship – by the time he had been beamed up, Thor hadn't been in a position to talk. The Goa'uld had used Maybourne's knowledge, he assumed, to talk his way in, then tried to seize control.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, from Jack's perspective - most of the systems would not operate for anyone with a symbiote. Hence Jack's presence – either to operate the systems for them himself, or to act as leverage to force Thor into doing it.

Jack attempted once again to gain control of his facial muscles, trying to move them to flex into a fake smile, then a frown. This time it worked. OK, so we have a few muscles working, he thought. Hey, weren't there more muscles in the face than anywhere else in the body? He was sure he had read that in Nature - or maybe it had been Scientific American - a few years back. Suppressing the irrelevancy, he tried his eyes again. This time his lids rolled back, stinging as if he had just rubbed chili into them.

Crap, he thought, staring up at the distinctive lid of an Asgard stasis/medical chamber. He really was back. He really was a captive again on Thor's ship. He was at the mercy of the twisted whims of the Goa'uld that had taken over Harry Maybourne.

How many times was he going to be condemned to being beamed into one of Earth's apparently numerous locations that only marginally supported life, only to be 'rescued' in time for the sarcophagus or stasis unit to do its thing?

His head hurt, he realized, just as something jabbed into him, instantly relieving the pain. He decided to continue his catalog of motion, but beyond his face, nothing worked. But before panic could set in, memory flooded back to him once again, and he remembered the swirling vortex of dust as the bomb in the SGC had exploded. He HAD escaped from Lanthos, had been rescued.

So why was he back in the stasis unit? He had been sure that Carter's shielding device had worked – he'd seen the vortex stop and collapse as if it had run into an invisible wall, just before it had reached him.

'Relax, O'Neill,' a voice said in his head. 'You required medical attention; you will regain control of your body shortly.'

That little grey monster had done it again, he raged. Kidnapped him without warning and zapped him up to his ship. You'd have thought Thor would know better than to beam him up without warning after their last little adventure, even if he was an alien. And why was he in the stasis chamber - just how bad was the damage this time?

Jack fought off panic, and tried willing the machine to open up and let him out. Nothing, nada. Thor, he yelled in his head. I know you can hear me, let me out of here. He thought he heard a faint response, and waited for more, but nothing happened. He tried to sound stern. You can't keep me prisoner forever. Let me out, right now. Instead, he felt another jab, just before he faded into unconsciousness.

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"I'm sorry, George, but there's no hope," Jacob's voice sounded defeated as it crackled through the radio. "We're confident that we've located all of the survivors. Most of the base is intact – some structural damage on levels 20 and 21 that led to the injuries, and elevator 1 will need to be completely replaced, but aside from that, it's fine. Except for level 19. It simply doesn't exist any more. Over."

General Hammond stared down at his desk in dismay. How could it happen – a catastrophe of this size, yet hardly anyone dies. Except his best people, his closest friends. All the same, he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Look Jacob," he said, "You can't be sure until we've searched under the rubble. We've still got to hope. I'll get a specialist team down to help you, over."

There was a noticeable pause before the response came back.

"No George. I brought my own team through with special detection equipment. We can assure you that there is no one alive under there. Everything - and I do mean everything - is literally dust. Things are under control here now, so I'm heading back up."

George Hammond absorbed Jacob – no, Selmak's – words.

"But you haven't found their bodies yet, Jacob," he said to his friend. "SG-1 has come back from the dead before, and they'll do it again. Maybe they're trapped somewhere your detectors can't see them. I'm not giving up yet."

"I'm sorry, George," his friend replied, his voice a desiccated rasp. "I'll see you shortly. Out."

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Joe stared down at the papers he'd removed from his now-unconscious prisoner's wallet. The man, alien or not, had passed out almost as soon as he had started working on his shoulder – he'd lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, the flow seemed to have slowed to a near stop for now, but the patient wasn't looking good. His breathing was uneven, his face pale, and a sheen of perspiration beaded his forehead.

Now what? He thought to himself.

The papers identified the prisoner as Air Force Consultant Murray Teal. Joe was betting it wasn't his real name. More suspicious though was his address: apparently, he not only worked at the base, but lived there as well.

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Sam came back to awareness to find herself lying on what felt like a metal slab. Cautiously, she lifted her head and looked around. In the far corner of the room, a window gave a view of what was unmistakably space. She looked around. She was on an Asgard ship. She swung her legs around, and sat up.

"Please be cautious, Major Carter," Thor's calm, quiet voice said. "I have repaired your injuries, but you will require a little time to fully recover."

"Thor," she said, in relief. It came out as a mere croak. "What about the others? Did you bring them up here? Are they safe?"

"There is no cause for alarm," Thor replied calmly. "Your shielding adaptation proved effective. However, the level on which you lab was housed was destroyed, as was the elevator in which you sheltered. I was able to rescue you and your party. There were two casualties amongst your 'SFs', however, I have been able to restore them to health. There are several more wounded, but I believe it is within the capabilities of your own people to attend to these. The bulk of your facility is unharmed."

"Where is Colonel O'Neill?" she said agitatedly. "Lt Adams and Colonel O'Neill were in the corridor. And what about the others in the elevator? Did you bring them up here too?"

"Do not be concerned, Major Carter. All of the personnel who were with you are safe. I will escort you to them shortly if you wish," Thor said. "I am a little surprised however that you put yourself in this situation. Was it not a little rash to test your new shielding capacity within the confines of the SGC? I had thought that you would utilize a less critical location for this purpose. Or was this another of your 'stupid ideas' that had some higher objective?"

Sam felt herself momentarily distracted as she remembered her experience helping the Asgard defeat the replicators in one of the battles in their seemingly endless war. The Asgard had tried every approach their sophisticated minds could come up with. It was the direct approach, the unexpected, that the Tau'ri could contribute, and that had won the day.

The O'Neill had been the Asgard's last hope for victory. And it had achieved its task - just not in the way the Asgard had anticipated. Instead of proving the ultimate weapon against the metallic bugs, Sam's 'stupid idea' had been to lure the replicators into following the newest, most technologically advanced ship of the Asgard fleet, and then destroy it – and them with it. Perhaps Thor had concluded from this experience that she liked blowing things up?

"No, Thor, we had a saboteur. Someone masquerading as a young airman turned my reactor into a bomb. Luckily for us he didn't know about the shielding. Now how about taking me to see my colleagues?"

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Teal'c held himself still and tried to keep his breathing steady as he slowly swum up to consciousness. Where was he? Pain swam across his body as he focused on the smells around him – old papers, coffee-grounds, and odd spices. It was enough to remind him of what had happened: he was in Daniel's apartment.

"It's obvious you are awake, Mr Teal," a rather dry, laconic voice said. "Don't even think of trying to escape. I'm a very good shot, as you already know. Perhaps you'd care to make some introductions now?"

Teal'c kept his eyes closed, intent on bluffing his captor out. How much did he know, he wondered.

He took an inventory of his status. It wasn't good. He was hot and feverish, and the bandages digging into his shoulder reminded him that he was badly wounded. His wrists and ankles were still immobilized. But at least the tremors he had been experiencing had finally died away.

"It's no good pretending," the voice said. "I know you're awake. You may as well start talking because you are going to help me if you want to get the medical attention you clearly need."

There was no point in further dissembling, he decided. He tried to roll towards the voice, but accidentally hit his shoulder as he moved. The pain was excruciating. He forced himself past the pain and opened his eyes. "I am Murray Teal," he said politely. "Who are you, what are you doing in the apartment of my friend Dr Daniel Jackson?"

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"Wake up, O'Neill," a voice whispered in his ear. "You will recover full use of your body shortly."

Thor, he realized. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring at the small gray alien through the open lid of an Asgard medical stasis chamber.

"The paralysis should wear off in a few moments, O'Neill," he said. "I regret that it was necessary to beam you up and place you in stasis," the familiar tones went on. "However, you were hit by some stray debris and were in need of urgent medical attention. I have taken the liberty of healing your wounds from our previous mission at the same time, as I did not feel that you would wish to retain the Goa'uld's symbols on your arm. I am concerned, however, that your mental status remains diminished."

"My 'mental status' should be the least of your concerns right now, Thor," Jack replied agitatedly. He lurched upwards as though to try and grab Thor, but failed, and fell back into the unit. "What about my team, what about the SGC?" he demanded, panting as he lay there for a moment, taking a moment to recover his equilibrium.

"Your team is uninjured," Thor replied calmly. "The SGC suffered some damage, and several injuries, but remains operational. Sgts Fournier and Disney died, but I have been able to restore them. They are currently in the capsules next to you. However, I am more concerned about your own well-being at this point. You still appear to be discomposed."

"Yes, Thor, I'm discomposed alright. That's because you beamed me up yet again without warning and stuck me in that thing!"

"I understand that in your species, perceived inability to control your environment is a major cause of stress and mental illness," Thor replied calmly. "I have therefore made some modifications to my ship to assist you. Should you need to re-enter the stasis unit, I have authorized the ship's computer to accept your commands directly."

"What good will that do?" Jack replied, finally managing to pull himself up to a sitting position. "Every time I end up in your stasis unit it knocks me out, so how can I give it any commands?" As he talked, he managed to climb out of the medical unit. He stood next to it, and looked down at Thor expectantly.

"Speech is not necessary, O'Neill. If you think about what you desire, that will be sufficient."

"Telepathy, cool," he replied.

"It is not, strictly speaking, telepathy," Thor replied. "Rather, the computer interfaces directly with your brain. This normally only works with Asgard, however, because of your unusual genetic structure, I believe it will operate for you, and will allow you to access the ship's log and main controls. I hope that this would prevent a repeat of the situation you found yourself in with Lanthos."

Jack winced at the reminder once again of his unusual genetic structure. He wanted no repeat visits from Loki, or any others similarly entranced with his genetic potential.

"Well actually, a transporter blocker would be more use, Thor."

"No such device exists, O'Neill. I can however give you a communicator which will enable me to warn you in the future." He handed over a round jewel. "If you attach this to your 'dog tags', I believe they are called, it will adhere to them and become invisible."

"Thank you, Thor," he said, cautiously. "I appreciate your attempts to help me with this. But right now I need to find out what's happening with my people."

"I will escort you to your people momentarily, O'Neill. However, I must first apologize for our last encounter since we have not had an opportunity to speak since then. When Lanthos took over my ship, it was you who suffered at his hands. I had not anticipated the use of our transporter controls for the purpose of torture, or I would have disabled them in advance as well. I regret that I had to leave you in the hands of your own people to heal you; as you know, there was an emergency on my home world. I believe that the appropriate phrase is 'I owe you one'".

"Well, several actually," Jack said. "But you can start making it up to me by taking me to my people."

"Very well, O'Neill. But we will speak more of this later. Perhaps you would like to take a moment to change into fresh clothes before joining the group, O'Neill."

Jack looked down at the tattered uniform he was in, and took in the fresh BDUs Thor indicated. "Thank you, Thor, I'll be right along."

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Methos stared out of the window in front of him, transfixed. Hanging in front of him was a glorious view of the Earth in all its blue and green glory. It was breathtaking. A glorious contrast to his own somewhat battered appearance. Orbit was definitely a nicer place to be than the SGC just now.

The spaceship he was on now had strong similarities with the one he'd been on two millennia ago – but differences as well. The Asgard had not stood still technologically.

And they were still clearly operating on just-in-time principles in terms of their rescues. Not that he was ungrateful or anything for this deus ex machina; far from it.

As he watched, the vessel he was on slowly changed orbit, and inched cautiously closer to what looked suspiciously like a space station. Well, actually it looked like one of those cheesy cardboard box constructions from Dr Who. What was it, he tried to remember? Ah yes, the Ark in Space. His favorite, the fourth doctor, and Sarah Jane Smith, fighting the evil Wirren, who were busily taking over the hibernating bodies of escapees from a destroyed Earth. He sure hoped that this wouldn't prove to be a case of art imitating life.

As they moved closer, the Ark took on more form and shape, looking more and more high-tech, less BBC special effects. It loomed out over the darkness, a spinning spiral of white. They kept moving closer towards it, pushing Earth back to a mere corner of the horizon. At the point that it took up almost half his viewing field, the ship stopped moving. He stayed watching for a moment more, but it didn't help. Nothing about the space station - Ark, whatever - seemed familiar.

He focused on the shuffling sounds coming from behind him. Can't ignore the company any longer, he decided, and turned around cautiously. His not-so-friendly guards and various other hangers-on from the SGC had rejoined him. They appeared disoriented however, for which he could hardly blame them.

Sighing to himself, Methos ignored the newcomers, and turned to go over to what he recognized as the ship's log access, to see if he could find out what was going on. He'd only gone half a step when an arm reached out to grab him.

"Just where do you think you are going, Sir?" one of the SFs said. "You are still under arrest."

He turned towards the voice. Sergeant Mason was waving at a number of his somewhat stunned-looking SF colleagues, late of the elevator, and directing them to move closer and surround him. Discipline held, and they moved towards him.

He put his hands up, slowly. "Don't worry Sergeant, I'm not going anywhere. I was just going to see if I could find out what's going on. And the Asgard will be along shortly to vouch for me."

"It's OK, Sergeant," a familiar voice said. "He really is on our side. You can let him go."

He turned around to face Daniel, careful to move slowly and keep his hands where they could see them. "What are you doing here, Daniel?" he demanded. "Weren't you supposed to have evacuated the SGC?"

"Yes, Daniel, just why are you here?" Major Carter said, as she walked into the room.

"Um, yes, well, I wasn't really going to leave you and Jack by yourselves," Daniel muttered, looking sheepish.

Methos watched as the Major took in the scene, considered for a moment, and then waved off the SFs.

Methos noticed that they were still eying him warily. "OK, so why don't we all just relax for a moment, take stock and get our bearings," he suggested. "I believe that that dispenser over there will provide beverages and food."

"Good idea," Daniel said, and started heading for the dispenser. Methos saw him eyeing a plateful of pills.

"This is food?" Daniel asked.

"The Asgard version," Methos replied.

Methos watched as Daniel picked one up and cautiously sniffed it, put it down and picked up another one.

"Don't eat the yellow ones!" he and Major Carter yelled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment. He offered her an embarrassed smile, and she chuckled in response. He hoped it was a good sign.

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"Damn," Joe said.

He down stared down at his prisoner in dismay. Teal had inquired very politely who he was, then crashed back to unconsciousness. He took Teal's pulse – it was far too fast. Carefully, he unbound the bandage and checked the wound. It didn't look good – the wound was bleeding again.

Joe tried applying pressure. After a few seconds, the bleeding did slow. He kept his grip firm, and retied the bandage tightly. Joe looked down at the growing pool of blood. Teal was looking paler by the moment, and clearly needed a transfusion. If he didn't want to be responsible for a murder, he was going to have to call an ambulance. Reluctantly, Joe limped over to the phone.

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As Jack followed Thor down the corridor, he could hear the sound of human voices. The door slid open, and Thor entered. He paused for a moment to steady himself, and then followed. Cautiously, his eyes swept the room. Quickly he picked out Carter, Adams, and Daniel. He did a headcount. To his relief, everyone from Level 19 – and more – were present.

He glared at the unexpected addition, who smiled back at him happily.

"Jack!" Daniel said. "Are you OK? Thor said you needed treatment, were you hurt by the bomb?"

Daniel walked towards him, and then reached out to grip his arm in reassurance.

"Yes, Daniel, I'm fine, not even a scratch thanks to Thor. And you're okay too I see. Despite disobeying my orders?"

"I transported Daniel Jackson aboard because I believed we would need his services to disable Thrynheim," Thor interposed gracefully. Jack noted Daniel's grateful glance at the Asgard and vowed to take this up again later.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Thor. "Thrynheim?" he queried. He narrowed his eyes as he saw both Daniel and Lt Adams' heads jerk up at the unknown word.

"Thrynheim," Daniel said. "Idun's hiding place. That's Thrynheim?" he asked, pointing out the window.

Jack glanced out the window, and almost backed away in shock. Outside the window was a honking big spaceship of a type he had never seen before.

"What's Thrynheim?" Carter cut in.

"In Norse mythology, Thrynheim was the home of the giant Thiazi. Loki helped him capture Idun, the Goddess of Immortality, causing the gods to age rapidly, and become wrinkled and gray. When Loki confessed what he had done, she was rescued, and her apples once again restored the Gods to youth," Daniel replied.

Jack glared at Daniel, who stopped abruptly as Jack waved a hand at him. "That's all very well, Daniel, but I'm hoping Thor might give us a more contemporary explanation." He looked meaningfully at the Asgard.

"In this case, it is the name of the space station that is currently causing difficulties to your planet," Thor replied, not looking at them.

"But Thor," Carter said, "A Norse name means its Asgard right? So just why is it causing us problems if it's an Asgard vessel? Can't you just tractor the ship out of the way?"

"Thrynheim is operating in automated defensive mode, Major Carter," Thor replied. "And it has considerable defensive capabilities. I believe that it will require the particular skills of all of SG-1, as well as the assistance of Lt Adams to deal with the situation."

"All of SG-1 are needed to disable that ship over there?" O'Neill demanded. "So what about Teal'c?"

"I have been waiting for him to leave the company of others so I can beam him up," Thor replied. "However, I have not yet been able to beam him up without being seen by others of your planet. Be assured that I will beam him up as soon as a suitable opportunity presents itself."

"And what about Lt Adams here. Why do we need him?" Jack said suspiciously. The Lieutenant smirked at him, but then turned to stare at Thor meaningfully.

"Yes, Thor," he said in a silky voice. "Just why am I invited to this little party?"

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