Three

/ P3X-796 /

At first, all he could do was to blink at her. The Builders who had created them? This girl was of the race who had built the Gates? But they were all dead . . . weren't they?

He blinked some more.

" . . . Builders . . .?" He blinked again. He was stuck on that bit of data and could not muster his thoughts to think past it. Not yet anyway.

Koraes nodded. "Yes, the Builders." Now she was more than confused. "You do not know of the Builders?" She mirrored his blinking with her own now.

O'Neill shook his head. It was partly an answer to her question and partly just to shake his thoughts loose. "Um . . . yes and no." He admitted. "Are you . . .?"

Koraes knew what he was asking her. She shook her head. "I am only half Builder. My other half is Sekarra." She explained.

O'Neill shook his head again to clear it. Builder he understood. Another term for the Ancients who had built the Gates. And knowing that they had built the Gates, it made sense to call them Builders. But Sekarra? What the hell was that? He shook his head. "Sorry, you lost me. Sekarra?"

Koraes could sense his tension rise again. He did not know Sekarra, so it might be a threat to his people. She shook her head quickly. "Sekarra are no threat to you or your world. They are mostly Seclusionists." She assured.

Somehow, he believed her. He knew, intellectually, that he should question everything, that he should trust nothing; but he could see it in her eyes. She spoke the truth. And something in her eyes said she needed him to believe her.

He did.

"Okay," he sighed, "but I thought the Ancients, what you call Builders, were long dead." It was a question, and that reflected itself in his eyes and voice.

Koraes blinked and took an involuntary step back before she realized that he was not saying that they should be or that he planned to try to make it so but merely that he had thought mistakenly that it was so. She shook her head.

"No, but they long ago abandoned this Sector Post." She corrected, reminding him of her original statements to him. "I alone remain."

O'Neill shook his head and settled back on the bed from the stand he had affected at her admission that the place belonged to the Ancients. Now he was lost and confused again. And he hated that.

"Wait," he began, "you said this Sector Post reports all activity in Sector 14 to homeworld, right?" His eyes held hers steadily as he worked her through the logic.

She nodded. "Yes." Where was he leading with this?

"Then why don't they come back? Why leave you here alone and not stop the Goa'uld from using their Gates to enslave people?" He felt his anger rise as he also followed his logic and realized that, if this Builder homeworld was getting these reports, they had simply chosen to ignore them! What the hell kind of people were they to ignore this and leave this girl here alone!?

Koraes frowned in thought. "I do not know." She admitted. "Perhaps the War continues, and they cannot spare the ships now." She guessed. "It was, after all, why they abandoned the Post to begin with."

"War?" O'Neill questioned, rising from the bed again and approaching the forcefield slowly. "What war?" Could they have a common enemy?

Koraes frowned and tilted her head in thought. "The Great War which took them from this Post." She answered after a moment of pondering. "Our ally was in grave danger from this Enemy, and the Builders went to their aid. They have not returned, so the War must still rage."

She felt sadness sweep through her thoughts and threaten to break her controls over her emotions . . . what controls she had. She was no warrior. She was only a girl when the Post had been abandoned. And now, she was a girl alone, frightened, and confused. But she was the only one here to keep the Post functioning, so she did as best she could and prayed for the return of the others.

But in all the years since they had left, only this Human had come here. One visitor. And he seemed as lost as she was now. She could feel his emotions brushing her awareness even though she was not touching him. She would not risk that . . . not yet.

O'Neill sighed heavily. Of course, it could not be so easy. He sank back onto the bed and closed his eyes. "Then you don't really expect them back, do you?" He asked very softly, fearing that he already knew the answer.

Koraes, for the first time since she had brought him here, wanted to touch him. She wanted to reassure him that they would return. They would not simply leave and never return. Would they? She stepped right up to the forcefield.

"One day, they will come back." She tried to reassure. The question was, who was she trying to assure? Him? Or herself?

He nodded without looking up. Yeah, one day. But until then, this was his home, his prison. He sighed and fixed her with his stare once more. "How can you be sure?"

She sighed heavily, but her demeanor spoke of conviction. "Because Builders never abandon their own." She stated. Were Humans so different? Would his people abandon him if they could not find him soon?

O'Neill nodded, accepting that answer. At least, for now. "Okay, then it looks like we're both in the same boat here." He muttered.

Koraes tilted her head again. Boat? "Please pardon, but what do seagoing vessels have to do with this situation exactly?" She asked, thoroughly confused by his speech patterns.

O'Neill blinked up at her, caught off guard by her question. He had been trying to think his way out of this when she had asked that. He should have been used to it by now since most Earth colloquialisms confused Teal'C. But it still made O'Neill pause when they hit one. Now was no different.

"Um . . . it means we're in the same situation." He offered. "We're both stuck here and no way to go home." He told her with another sigh.

"Why? Is the Gate on your world damaged?"

Blink. Was she kidding!? "Um, besides the fact that you have me locked up like some kind of criminal?" He queried a bit sarcastically. "Besides that, the Gate on this world won't reactivate." He added after a moment in a more reasonable, if somewhat disgusted, tone, realizing after he had spoken the first that it would have likely not done him any good.

She frowned and nodded. "That is because I shut it down remotely in order to learn of your people." She admitted, her tone a bit sheepish. "And as to the forcefields . . ."

She opened her mouth to say something, but was prevented as the entire Post shook. The lights flickered, and the second voice he had heard before spoke to them. "Koraes, the Post is under attack. Please go to Command."

The Post shook again, more violently.

/ EARTH /

Sam flopped back in the chair as the Gate closed. Her eyes closed. She had hoped the Asgard could help them, but Thor was right. With all the damage the Replicators had done to their planets and fleet, they simply did not have any resources to space, no matter how they felt about these Humans, and O'Neill specifically. They wanted to help, but they simply could not.

"Damn . . ." She whispered.

Daniel looked as though he was going to have a fit right there. Teal'C frowned deeply. Even Walter felt somehow subdued now. He stared at his computer morosely as he tried to figure out how to help them. There had to be a way to bypass a Gate Lockout, right?

"Major," he began slowly, a bit hesitantly, "could we possibly bypass the Gate's security system remotely?" It was a wild-hair idea, but now was the time for thinking outside the box. All the inside-the-box thinking had gotten them nowhere. And they were still waiting on the Tolan.

Sam opened her mouth to answer him, but the sound of the Gate activating cut her off. His eyes snapped to his computer as did every other set of eyes in the Control Room. "Offworld Activation." He called. Everyone held their breath to see if Jack's IDC would come up.

It did not.

"Tlan IDC." Walter announced. "Signal coming through."

"Stargate Command, this is Melan of the Tolan." The unfamiliar voice came over the speakers. "The Council regrets that it cannot send a ship currently. However, we will do so as soon as it is possible to spare one." Then the signal cut, and the Gate closed. Abrupt, typical for the Tolan.

Sam sighed heavily. She couldn't just leave Jack out there. But every avenue they tried yielded no success. Futility began to clutch at her mind and heart again, but she shut it out brutally, refusing to succumb to its icy grip. No! There was a way, and they would find it!

But how?

She looked sidelong at Walter. "Let's try dialing once more. If that fauls, we'll start trying your idea."