After dropping Carter off to catch her plane in the early hours of the morning, O'Neill went immediately back to the base, checking in and heading straight down to medical to find out how Daniel's night had gone. Abby had insisted he go home to get some rest about midnight, just after Daniel had gone back to sleep. She had assured O'Neill that she would be sitting with him until Janet took over in the early hours of the morning.

Entering Janet's domain, he headed immediately for the observation room, only to be caught up short by someone calling his name. He turned, recognizing one of the nurses and she pointed off towards the wing of private rooms. "He's in number 4," she told him, then turned back to dealing with Siler. The master sergeant had apparently dropped his massive wrench again, if the bandage going on his foot was any indication.

Reaching room 4, O'Neill looked in through the open door, immediately spotting doctor and patient caught in a rather vulnerable moment. Janet was sitting on the edge of Daniel's bed and he was in a reclining position, his head resting on her shoulder with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and hers. It looked like he was asleep, his eyes were closed and he seemed fully relaxed, but O'Neill's experienced eyes caught the signs of tension in the young man's face; the furrowed brow that he knew sleep wouldn't quite ease.

He let out the slightest sigh at the sight, and Janet's head turned his direction, catching his eye and nodding for him to come in. "Bad night?" O'Neill asked, concerned.

"Panic attack," she explained, her voice barely audible. "Help me ease him back, would you? He's heavy."

Quickly slipping around the bed, O'Neill helped her ease Daniel back into the pillows, Janet pulling the soft, thick blanket around his shoulders and over his arms as she got him settled again. "He finally remembered what that damn letter said, and just panicked. I may have to keep him under sedation for a while until he starts to recover his strength. We don't need him working himself into a third heart attack," the doctor told him.

"You tell him that everything has been taken care of, that he's still got his job?"

"Oh, yes," she assured him. "And I think he listened to me, so hopefully he'll be calmer when he wakes up again."

"How is he, really?" O'Neill questioned. "Abby said it could be months before he fully recovered from this, if he recovers at all."

"She's right about that, I'm afraid, barring intervention from Jacob or one our other allies," Janet admitted. "His heart has been damaged by the attacks. As things stand now, I won't be able to clear him to go back through the gate again, at least not to anywhere where there might be any hint of danger. Any major stress could trigger more attacks."

"In other words, his office is going to be it unless someone comes through for us," O'Neill stated, brushing his fingers back through his short hair. "Great. Well, Carter sent a message on to her dad this morning, but our contact with the Tok'ra has been sporadic at best, and definitely unreliable. They're as likely to ignore the request as they are to pass it on."

"That doesn't sound like a good indication of our relationship with them."

"Our relationship with them has basically gone down the toilet. And I think it'll probably get worse before it gets better. Our methods have cost them people, according to them. And I know that's the truth, since I've heard it from Jacob."

"They have a zero population growth," Janet mused. "So they feel their very survival is in danger."

"Right," O'Neill admitted. "And with neither side willing to tell the other what their big plans are, they feel they can't afford to work with us."

Janet shook her head. "Definitely not a good situation. Well, to finish answering your question, Daniel is stable for now, but his condition could change at any time and head either direction. I've got some serious worries that he could pick up a respiratory infection or even pneumonia, neither is uncommon following a heart attack of this magnitude. Either could finish what the poison started." She reached to brush back Daniel's hair from his face, then settled the blankets more comfortably across his chest before smoothing down the one that was under him and wrapped up around his shoulders from below. "We're going to keep him warm, and use medicated breathing treatments to try to keep infections from setting in. Other than that, all we can really do is get him to rest and be ready to step in if he has any further problems. I'm hoping he's over the worse of this."

"Daniel never does things the easy way, Doc. I wouldn't count on that," O'Neill reminded her softly.

"I know," she agreed. "Abby told me how you got her into the medical practice. Good work there, Colonel, she's definitely got the right attitude for a good doctor."

"Thought so, and she was certainly interested enough in the opportunity when I first knew her. Though she's damn good with a P-90 and a sniper rifle too."

"I'm out of practice with the P-90," Abby commented from behind him, her voice hinting at her amusement. "Janet, he settled down?"

"He's asleep. Hopefully he'll stay that way for a while."

"Are those panic attacks common?" Abby asked as she moved to check the monitors that were keeping track of Daniel's vital signs. She frowned at a couple of them, unhappy with what they were telling her.

"Not any more," O'Neill assured her. "Problem is, that damn letter had enough truth to it in his mind to be seriously damaging."

Janet nodded in agreement, taking a seat next to Daniel's bed and keeping his right hand in hers to monitor his pulse "If he were to leave the program, he'd have some pretty major trouble finding work. Because of his theories, the archeological community has made a pariah of him, never mind the fact that they're true; the evidence is all so classified most of our government leaders has no idea the Stargate exists, much less that there are aliens out there who want to take over the world. With only one or two rare exceptions, most archeologists think Daniel's out of his mind."

"Now, I understand he's also a linguist?" Abby questioned. "How many languages does he know? And wouldn't he be able to get work as a translator?"

"Earth based, twenty-six," Janet replied. "Out there… Another six or eight, I think. If for some reason he were put out of the SGC, the NID would probably love to have him at area 51. For the most part, he's refused to work with them."

"Damn…," O'Neill cursed. "Yeah, they would probably love to have him. Enough to set him up to leave the SGC… No, why would they try to kill him if they wanted him for themselves?" he mused, leaning back against the wall. "I've been trying to figure out why the hell someone would want him out of here bad enough to try to kill him."

"I'm actually glad Daniel was offworld when he got that letter," Janet commented dourly. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if he'd gotten that and was alone in his office when he started reading it."

O'Neill slowly nodded. "He would have been gone before we found him," he agreed. It was a sobering thought.

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Slipping into Sarah's class quietly was easier than Carter had thought it would be. Sarah had them all enthralled with her lecturing and no one noticed as the door opened, then softly closed again. The closest seats were only a few steps away, she realized, and headed for them.

The classroom was done with raised seating that must have dated back nearly a century or so, but was still in excellent condition. It reminded her of the old operating theaters of nearly a century ago, railed counters with seats behind them rose in three levels, allowing those on the upper levels excellent views of the items on the teacher's table below. Several chairs on the lowest level were empty and she moved to sit down before she disrupted Sarah's class.

The lecture went on about another ten minutes before Sarah turned to take questions and finally spotted Carter sitting in the bottom row. She hesitated only a moment, then moved on to discuss the subject of the day, which was, interestingly enough, the age of the pyramids and the theories about how they may have been built.

Listening to the growing debate behind her, Carter came to realize that the class was fairly divided in its opinions. A good half of the group believed in the old way of thinking, while the rest seemed to be more open to other ideas, including Daniel's theories about the age of the pyramids being incorrect. "Is there really any evidence that points to the five thousand year date being wrong?" one student, a young lady, asked.

"If there is, it hasn't been released yet," Sarah told them. "Though there certainly does seem to be some evidence that the age of the nearby sphinx is incorrect. If one is wrong, is it possible the other is as well? Dr. Jackson's theory wasn't based on the new evidence, but it does bring up the question as to whether or not he might have been right, just for the wrong reason."

"Jackson's a quack," one of the young men behind Carter stated, disgust in his voice. "It's been nine years, and he still hasn't come forward with more supposed 'proof' for his theories. He should have done the smart thing to begin with and just told the world he was kidding, it was all a big joke. You know, who believes that space men built the pyramids as landing pads for their ships? Would be pretty weird ships to land on something shaped like that."

"Or men from Atlantis?" stated a younger woman behind him. "Absolute idiocy, saying something like that."

"Yes, it was, which is why Dr Jackson never made that claim," Sarah pointed out. "Nor did he ever make any sort of claims about who did make the pyramids. His only claim was his belief that they were not made when everyone believes they were made. Now, as I mentioned a moment ago, a similar claim has been made about the nearby sphinx, and the evidence to back that claim is fairly clear. It's based on geology, though, not archeology."

"The water erosion theory?" one of the other students asked.

"Exactly. People don't want to accept that theory any more than they want to consider the pyramids being older than five thousand years old, but the honest truth is that both theories have valid points backing them up. Now, since everyone seems so interested in the subject of Dr Jackson's work, I would like you all to look up his last lecture on the Internet and read through the transcript in its entirety. Please take notes on who exactly stated what, and we'll go over it briefly at the start of class on Monday. In the meantime, don't forget you all have papers due by the end of next week as well. Dismissed."

The students all headed out, giving Carter curious looks but not pausing to ask questions. It took only a few minutes for the two of them to be left alone, and Carter came down to give Sarah a hug, which the woman warmly returned. "It's good to see you again. How are you doing?"

"Well, actually. It's good to be back to work again," Sarah replied. "It took me a bit to catch up, but it also gave me a good distraction while I was putting my life back together again. There were some nights, I really needed that distraction."

"I know what you mean," Carter admitted. "I tried not to disrupt your class when I slipped in. I hope you didn't mind."

"Not at all, and I didn't hardly notice the door opening. I thought it was a late student, a couple were missing today. But what brings you here? And how is Daniel? I haven't heard from him for a few weeks." Sarah motioned her to a nearby table where she had several items and some papers spread out, a trio of stools around it. "Please, have a seat and fill me in where you can."

Carter sighed as she took one of the stools. "Well, first off, Daniel isn't doing too well right now. He… had two heart attacks yesterday that turned out to be caused by a very strong contact poison. Someone tried to kill him."

Sarah's cheerful look changed to one of horror and shock as she sank down onto another stool. "What? Why would anyone try to kill Daniel? How bad is his condition?"

"Very serious, I'm afraid, but Janet is hopeful for a good recovery. Without outside intervention, however, he probably won't be doing fieldwork again. The two attacks occurred within an hour or so of each other, and there was damage done to his heart. The outside agent that caused them to begin with has been neutralized, but still, there is a chance for further attacks in the future. And at this point we have no idea who tried to kill him, or why. We just know that the poisoned letter was somehow slipped into an official packet being held at the Pentagon, and sent out from there without clearance."

"I can see someone out in the field wanting to get rid of Daniel, he's been a major thorn in some people's sides, but here? And someone in the pentagon? That makes no sense at all."

Piece by piece, Carter explained what exactly had happened, and Sarah just stared at her, stunned, at the end. "How in the world could they hand things like that over to someone who knew nothing about the project?"

"General Harding apparently didn't know the colonel didn't have clearance. At any rate, the situation's been fixed, but now we know that Daniel needs a lot more help. Which is what brought me here."

Sarah's eyes went wide with nervous fear. "I won't go back there, Sam. I can't, I'm still trying to get over what happened to me, and to be that close to it…"

"I know," Carter told her hastily. "We won't ask you, we trust you to know that if and when you're ready to join us, the door is open. But we're hoping you know students, or even teachers, here, that would work with the project."

"Field teams?" Sarah asked. "Not many, Sam, that's very, very dangerous work. I know of a few, perhaps, but no more than three or four, and all of them senior students. For the base, though, I could name you a good dozen or so that would be interested in working with Daniel. Including a few senior staff that have gotten too old to go on field assignments and are interested in getting some sort of pension together."

"Archeologists?" Carter asked, intrigued at the notion. "But aren't the older ones the ones most likely to give Daniel trouble? Granted, we can prove his theories are in fact fact, but still, I would think they'd be the ones most likely to think it's some sort of scam."

"I'm talking about people who taught Daniel when he was a fifteen year old freshman attending classes with people five years his senior, at least. People who he consulted when he was pulling together the information to back his different theories. Believe it or not, the ones that give him the most trouble are the field archeologists, the ones who are usually in charge of the digs, not the people who are working with what those people bring back to the schools and museums. Many of them still remember Daniel, and would love to work with him again. In fact, I know of one who if I didn't send you to, would shoot me if she found out afterwards. Old Maggie Mae may be near seventy years old, but she's a spry seventy and Daniel was her favorite student when he was here. She works down in the archives, and was a sort of surrogate grandmother to him when he first arrived. He used to spend a lot of time in the archives section, and she made sure the older students didn't bother him."

"Seventy? Why hasn't she retired?" Carter asked, rather shocked.

"Teachers make good money here, but most of it gets turned around and spent to get out in the field on the off season. Grant money gets spent mostly for supplies and transportation, and local hire. The field teams draw in minimum wages, they're out there to learn and discover history, not make big money. That only comes if they find something valuable and can put out a book on it, like Steven did. Most archeologists are actually rather on the poor side."

"Except Daniel…" Carter pointed out wryly. "He makes more money than the Colonel does. I think."

"It's possible, I don't know how much a civilian consultant to the military makes. But with his language skills, they should be paying him the big bucks, and have been. Do you have any idea how expensive some of the books are that he has in that office of his? I know he has one that he probably outbid this school to get his hands on, there's only ten in existence that I'm aware of. Believe me, he has very good reason to be paranoid about the colonel going into his office," Sarah assured her.

"Is that the one that came in the armored car with an armed bodyguard?" Carter asked. "I remember going up with Daniel to sign for it at the outer gate."

"That's the one. The school had a quarter million set aside to buy that book, and Daniel snatched it out of their hands at the last minute by topping their bid. Actually, I rather hope the government reimbursed him on that one. One of the pictures we found inside of it was a drawing of the pieces of a hand device."

Carter closed her eyes and shook her head. It wasn't something she wanted to contemplate. "Ouch!"

"Oh, yes, listening to them trying to figure out what that was would have been very interesting. Especially if Steven ever saw the picture. He was hit by one of those things, after all." She winced at the half remembered memory. "I'm glad I can't do things like that any more."

Carter looked down at the table, carefully studying her hands rather than looking at Sarah. "Actually, you could. You have enough traces of Naquadah in your system to still use both a hand device and a healing device. Just like I can. I killed Seth with one, years ago."

"Thank you for the warning, if one ever shows up here, I'll know now not to touch it," Sarah told her, and Carter could tell she meant it. "I recall a lot of what happened while I wasn't in control, and I have no desire at all to ever hurt anyone like that again."

It was definitely time to change the subject. "So, who do you know of that would do well at the SGC?" Carter asked, smiling as she looked back up to catch Sarah's gaze. "We need people, lots of them, and since you know what we need, and who's here, we're hoping you can help us cut down on the paper and leg work."

Sarah smiled back at her. "How long were you planning on staying?" she asked, leaning her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. "This is actually my lunch hour, and I have the next hour after that for a study time, rather than a class. If you'll agree to stay at my place, and yes, I do have a spare bedroom, not a couch, and help me grade tests this weekend we can go do lunch at the cafeteria and I'll point out some people you might want to talk to. Deal?"

"Sounds good to me, I hadn't gotten a hotel room yet," Carter told her, both women rising from the table and heading out together. "Just so long as the food isn't as bad as the PX back at the base."

"It's not, I promise you, and they do have blue jello," Sarah teased. "Daniel told me you're partial to blue raspberry."

"If they have that, I'll be happy," was the laughing reply.

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Hammond studied Colonel Cartwright, considering his mannerisms as the young colonel awaited their questions. "Why did you write up those letters to begin with?" he asked the young man, his hands clasped on the back of the chair in front of him as he stood to one side of the office. "Why didn't you wait for orders from General Harding on the matter?"

"I did, sir," he replied, standing at strict attention in front of Harding's large desk. He was looking square at Harding seated behind the desk, but saw Hammond out of the corner of his eye. "I sent an email message to the General asking several questions when the review for this base arrived on my desk, sir."

"Exactly what questions did you ask?" Hammond inquired, trading thoughtful glances with Major Davis, who was standing at ease near the door.

"The base has a security rating higher than I currently hold, sir. I asked if he had actually meant for me to do the review or was it suppose to have gone to someone else. At that time I was unaware that there were actually two separate bases at Cheyenne Mountain, sir."

Harding nodded. "I got that message, and sent back a reply that yes, I wanted you to do it because I wanted to see what sort of questions you would come up with about their types of personnel and their various expenditures."

"Yes, sir. When I started doing the review, sirs, I noticed several divisions with very highly paid personnel, but I couldn't come up with an explanation for their presence in that sort of base. Archeologists, Anthropologists, and a surprisingly large number of linguists are employed at the base, and from the figures involved, they are each making a substantial salary above that which the military normally pays. The figures are more in line for top of the line civilian consultants, but that seemed out of place with the base's high security. I sent a message to General Harding requesting information on those three divisions and was told that those people should not have been employed there. He went on further to state that I was to send out termination papers immediately and get them out of there."

Harding looked stunned. "I never got a message asking about those people, and I sure as hell never sent a message stating they should be eliminated," he insisted, sitting up straight in his chair and looking over at Hammond. "I didn't get that message, George."

Hammond didn't look a bit surprised. "Colonel, where did you go from there?" he asked the equally surprised Cartwright.

"I wrote up the letters as required, and had them in a delivery packet, sirs, but I knew there was to be a review in person and held them back, waiting to be sure that there wasn't a last minute change. I sent General Harding a message stating that I had removed those divisions from the budget, reworking the funds in elsewhere, and was waiting for final orders on sending the termination notices out."

"When did you last see the notices?" Harding asked. "We've gotten conflicting reports on you sending or not sending them out."

"I checked before I came here, sir, they appear to still be where I left them in my office." He took a deep breath. "Am I in trouble over this, sirs?" he asked.

"At this point, Colonel, you appear to have been duped, and your emails to General Harding were somehow intercepted and tampered with," Hammond told him. "Major Davis, please go with the Colonel and fetch those letters, taking all precautions against smudging any evidence."

"Yes, sir," the major stated, and the two went out together, leaving the two generals and O'Neill, who had been listening on a speaker phone, to talk.

"Granted I couldn't see his expressions," O'Neill stated, "but he sounded very honest about the whole thing. Nothing set off any alarms with me that says he's lying to us." There was just a momentary pause. "My best guess would be the NID. They do have access to the Pentagon that's needed, and they do have cause to want to disrupt those divisions the SGC as much as possible. Danny has a way with people that has probably left them with fewer opportunities to get back to their artifact smuggling ways."

"Isn't murder a bit of an extreme step for these people, colonel?" Harding asked.

"No sir, not at all. They were more than happy to let an entire planet freeze to death to get a weather control device that they might possibly have been able to use on another planet. The question is, who's behind it? Maybourne has settled out there somewhere, but with the old treason charges against him, he's not likely to show his face on earth again. Simmons is dead, and Kennedy has decided to just stick to working at area 51. Though I'm sure if Kinsey offered them a fair price, he or Samuels would be more than happy to go back to work at being a pain in the ass."

"Colonel," Hammond drawled, a hint of warning in his voice.

"Sorry, Generals, but I call them as I see them. In spite of things he's said in front of our supporters, he's done nothing but go after the SGC ever since he found out about us. I don't know what he's going to try next, if he gets into office as vice-president."

"We'll deal with that problem when it gets here," Hammond assured him. "Jack, how is Daniel doing today? Any word yet on his recovery?"

"It's going to take months, and Fraiser doesn't think he'll be cleared for gate travel again. There was enough damage done to his heart to keep him planet bound for good."

"What about outside help for him?"

"Jacob might be able to reverse the damage completely, but first we have to hear from him. Carter sent word out this morning, and so far, no reply at all, so we've got a waiting game going on. Fraiser says he's resting comfortably, Abby says he's in as good a shape as can be expected, and they both are worried about other things causing trouble. Right now, Daniel is doing nothing but sleep."

"Which means he's doing what he's suppose to be doing for a change," Hammond stated. "All right, Colonel, keep me informed. I'll let you know if we come up with anything further here."

Hanging up the speakerphone, Hammond exchanged concerned looks with Harding. Both men knew that if someone was interfering at this level of events, they had a major problem indeed.

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Arriving at the school cafeteria brought back a feeling of nostalgia to Carter as she and Sarah found a quiet table along one wall of the room, reminding her of her own school days in college and at the Air Force Academy. She settled down to wait as Sarah went to get their order, bringing back a pair of very appetizing Chicken Caesar salads and a couple bottles of water, as well as the promised blue jello.

Sarah worked on her salad as she scanned the room, looking for a handful of people she thought could help Carter and the Stargate program. Finally, she spotted one of them coming in the door. "Ah, there's someone coming in now I think you'll want to talk to," she told Carter, motioning to the door to her left.

"Is that the older lady you were talking about earlier?" Carter asked, taking in the long silver-white hair with a glance, though she couldn't see the woman's face just yet.

"Maggie Mae? No, she's over in one of the study groups on the other side of the cafeteria right now. No, this is someone else, and I think you're really going to like her. And don't let that white hair fool you, she's as young as Daniel was when he joined your project. No, if you want someone for field teams, she's a good candidate. Strong willed, strong of body and very open minded, I've been itching to introduce her to Daniel since I met her," Sarah admitted.

Carter was turning in her seat to get a better look at the woman heading for the counter, when a bit of a fuss at a nearby table caught their attention. A big man, a football player if his size was any indication, was towering over a very scared looking younger woman. The way he was looming over her made him seem even more intimidating, and it was pretty clear what he was trying to do.

She made a move to get up and go interfere, but Sarah caught her arm and gave her a headshake. "It's going to be taken care of," she assured her. "Watch."

The silver haired woman swung around several tables and came back after the young man, scowling. "Derek, are you really so eager to end up in Dean Cornwell's office again for not keeping your hands to yourself?" she asked, her sharp voice showing her annoyance. "Last I heard, your GPA has about hit the point that even your football scholarship isn't going to keep you in school. Especially if there are any more complaints about you trying to get pushy with the ladies."

From the looks and the snickers some of the women in the area were giving the jock, this wasn't an empty threat. The speed in which he turned on her only confirmed this. "Mind your own business, old lady," he sneered. "Marlene wants to go to the party with me tonight, don't you babe?"

Before the younger woman, who couldn't have been over twenty, could respond, the older one stepped up behind her chair, facing the jock down with the calm coolness of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. "Just as April did?" she asked, her voice low, but carrying some weight behind it. "And Judy? What about Mary? Did they all ask to wind up sore in the morning, not remembering how they got back to their rooms? Hmm?"

The entire cafeteria fell silent as the jock's face turned a bright red. "Nothing happened to them while they were with me, what they did after the party is their problem," he told her.

"Yes, except that none of them remember leaving the parties you took them to, and none of them remember what happened most of the night. And I've heard tell that the only class you're not failing is chemistry… I wonder why?" she seemed to muse to herself, but everyone could see exactly what she was pointing out. Muttering went up around the room as several young women, all of them very pretty, started putting the allegations together. And several young men with them, scowling, were starting to get to their feet…

Carter came to her own feet as the angry and humiliated man immediately reached out to grab the woman's shoulder to push her back. "Listen, bitch…" he started, but didn't get any further.

In a move as smooth as any Special Ops fighter could pull off, the young woman had his hand off her shoulder, in her own firm grip and was using his own arm as a lever to land him right in the middle of a nearby empty table. The table tipped under his weight, sliding him right into a nearby wall and coming down on top of him. The edge caught him across his groin, leaving him doubled up and groaning in pain while the woman shook her head as she looked down at him, her hands on her hips and a complete look of disgust on her face. "Derek, didn't anyone tell you who my best friends are?" she asked him, and then counted them out on her fingers. "One's a Marine. One's a Navy pilot. And the third is in the Army Corp of Engineers. Did it ever occur to you, or anyone else, that they might have taught me a bit about how to deal with scum like you?" Shaking her head again, she walked away, leaving the jock's friends to help him up and out of there to nurse his pride elsewhere.

There was a smattering of applause from some of the other tables as the young woman headed off to get her lunch.

Carter sat back down again, looking rather impressed with the show. "Not bad at all," she told Sarah. "That's as neat a move as I've seen the Colonel pull off. Who is she?"

"Dr. Teresa Loring," Sarah told her, smiling. "Doctorate in Archeology, Masters in Anthropology, Masters in Linguistics. She's here to turn her Masters in Linguistics into a second doctorate. She's very open to new ideas, and yes, her three best friends are all military."

Carter nodded. "Definitely someone I want to meet," she assured Sarah, and turned her attention back to her own lunch. "You have her in one of your classes?"

Sarah looked quite amused. "She's my student teacher, and will be over to my place tomorrow to help me with those tests I mentioned that needed grading. I'll introduce you then," she promised.

"I look forward to it," Carter assured her, and the conversation turned to other things.

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Having checked on the two other patients in the infirmary, Abby headed for room 4 to be sure that Daniel was settled for the night before she turned in to get some sleep herself. Like most hospitals, the infirmary had a small room with a shower, a table and a pair of cots so that the doctor on duty could get some rest between rounds. From what she'd heard from some of the nurses, it wasn't uncommon for Janet to do two or three back-to-back shifts when there was an emergency on the base, so the little room was always kept ready for someone to take a quick catnap. Janet was suppose to be there now, getting some rest while Abby made sure things were settled before going to the VIP room she'd been assigned two floors above.

After roughly thirty-six hours at the SGC, Abby was trying to figure out how she could wrangle a transfer out of Washington DC to join this crew permanently. Janet was a delight to work with, and she'd never worked with a team that was so well prepared to have almost anything thrown at them. She'd met two other doctors so far, Dr. Brightman and Dr Carmichael, and found both to be good, steady specialists who didn't seem to be afraid to ask for help if they were in over their heads. Dr Warner, the surgeon specialist, was a little slower to catch on to new ideas, but when it came to his work in the OR, Janet had assured her he was in a class all his own.

One of the few gaps in the SGC's medical staff had been a heart specialist, Janet had admitted. She'd tried to explain a few times that they needed one, but the military had insisted that with the entire complex made up of healthy young soldiers, the few exceptions being command staff that weren't on the front lines, there shouldn't be a need for a heart specialist.

Abby had agreed, at first. "What would you need someone like me for?" she asked.

Janet had smiled and made a quick call instead of explaining, and they'd been joined a short time later by the alien she had met the evening before, Teal'c. He came carrying two items, one being a small box, the other an odd, staff-like weapon with what appeared to be weighted ends. He came directly to Janet, bowing his head to her in greeting as he laid both items on an empty bed next to one they had a patient in.

"Thank you, Teal'c, for coming," Janet told him. "Abby, the Goa'uld use two main weapons. Jaffa, like Teal'c here, usually carry staff weapons, and they're quite deadly if you get hit with a head or chest blow. You were asking about Lieutenant Meyers burns? He got them from a staff weapon."

"I got lucky," Meyers told her, his voice low to keep from taking a deep breath. He had some major burns along his ribs and arm on the right side. "This was just from the edge of the blast, the main force went between my side and my arm, or I wouldn't be here."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed, and showed her how the weapon was activated, the long bulbous head opening up with a crackle of energy for a moment before he shut it off again. "This is a Jaffa's weapon, used by a warrior. Many, however, take pleasure in using the Zat-ni-katel for the more painful but undamaging effect it has on its victims," he explained, and laid the staff down to open the box and remove the strange weapon inside while Janet momentarily left the room. She returned with a badly broken chair a few minutes later as Teal'c showed Abby how to activate the Zat, triggering it to spring from a compact weapon to a more open, Z-shaped gun.

"A Zat is never fired multiple times on the same victim unless you desire to kill the target," Teal'c told her. "The first shot causes great pain, and usually unconsciousness unless the Zat is at its lowest setting. A second shot stops the heart and shuts down the nervous system of the victim, killing them instantly."

"So there's no reason for a third shot then," Abby mused.

Janet smiled and motioned to the broken chair. "Your target," she told Teal'c. "Siler told me it's a lost cause."

Teal'c bowed his head to her, and demonstrated most effectively how a Zat worked. Abby started as the third shot caused the chair to just disappear right before her eyes… Her wide eyes moved from where the chair had been to meet Janet's gaze, and the woman nodded to her, confirming that yes, she'd seen what she'd just seen.

Lieutenant Meyers let out a hoarse chuckle. "I'm just glad that most Jaffa don't carry Zat guns, or I wouldn't be here right now," he told Abby.

Teal'c had answered Abby's questions about the weapon, and she began to understand why Janet had been eager to get a heart specialist on staff. The energy output from a Zat was electrical, and there was always a chance that even one of the low charge hits could cause permanent damage if the right stress was involved. There had been two, single shot fatalities in the past, both soldiers who had been in apparent good health, but later autopsies had shown to have minor heart damage likely caused by recent Zat shots. Damage the medical staff just hadn't known to look for.

Shaking off the memory of the unnerving demonstration, Abby paused at room 4, looking into the dimly lit room for a moment to let her eyes adjust before entering. She paused when Daniel's head turned on the pillow at her approach, then continued to his bedside. "Good evening, Daniel, you should be asleep."

"Just woke up a few minutes ago," he replied softly. "I remember seeing you earlier, but no one told me who you were."

"I'm sorry," she stated, reaching out to pat his hand. "Dr. Abigail Sinclair, but you can just call me Abby, everyone does. I'm a heart specialist, they asked me to come in to consult on your case, and I've been giving Janet a hand with your care."

He gave her a smile, his bright blue eyes echoing the movement of his lips. "Thank you. She worries about me too much some times, and doesn't take care of herself as she should. Jack is just as bad."

"I sent her off to get some rest a few hours ago, so she could take the evening watch, and tossed Jack out of here about an hour back, told him he was not allowed to pull an all-nighter on my shift. He groused, but he left."

Daniel let out a weak chuckle, then coughed a moment. Abby got him some water and held the cup for him to take a few sips to calm it. "Sorry," he told her as he lay back into the pillows again. "My throat is a little too sore to laugh right now. No, Jack is the SGC's biggest, and most stubborn, mother hen. I almost never wake up alone when I end up here in the infirmary."

"Well, either Janet or I will be close by at all times," Abby assured him. "There's only two other patients in right now, so we're able to keep a very close eye on you."

He gave her a level look, tilting his head on the pillow as he asked, "Am I dying again?"

Abby gave him a confused look as she drew over a stool and took a seat. "'Again,'?" she questioned. "You say that as if you've died before."

"I have… Well, kind of. I actually ascended, rather than died. Apparently I didn't like it much, though, as I came back," he told her honestly. "I… don't know what happened to me this time though. Why am I here?"

"The letter you received had been brushed with a contact poison, and it caused a pair of near fatal heart attacks. Janet and I were able to neutralize the poison, but it's left you very, very weak. Daniel, I'm sure Jack told you all of this when you woke up last night. Don't you remember?"

He seemed to consider her words carefully. "Vaguely," he admitted after a bit. "I feel like I'm walking through a fog. Everything is a little bit confusing."

Abby observed the monitors, then did her own check, listening to his heart and lungs with her stethoscope. He started coughing as the cold metal hit his chest, and she quickly called for Janet, concerned as she tried to settle the cough.

To Daniel, it was one of the things he quickly chalked up on his list of 'things not to do', each cough sending tearing pain through his chest as it shook his cracked ribs. He closed his eyes, and was only vaguely aware when others came to help Abby with his care. He protested between coughs as the nasal cannula was taken away, and replaced with a full mask "Let's roll him onto his side, so that cough can do him some good," he heard Janet tell the others, and gentle hands helped him to roll to his left so that he wouldn't tangle the IV lines. A firm cushion was pushed into his arms, and he clutched it against his chest in reflex, breathing a sigh of relief as it helped the pain as he coughed against it. It braced his ribs, so that they couldn't flex so much as he moved.

A cool mist came through the mask, bathing his lower face as Janet encouraged him to take long, deep breathes. He followed her directions, and soon relaxed back into sleep, the cough easing enough to let him rest again.

Janet looked at Abby as she gently ran her hand up and down Daniel's back to sooth him. "Upper respiratory infection?" she asked.

Nodding, Abby sat back down on her stool. "I think so," she agreed. "This could get a lot worse before it gets better, he's getting very, very sick. And I don't think he's out of danger from outside sources yet. If whoever sent that letter finds out he's still alive, who knows what they could try to do."

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Sorry for the delays, folks, but I'm writing this as I go, and between the odd hours of my work schedule and periodic blackouts in my server access, getting this chapter finished took a bit longer than I expected. Don't worry, I'm not planning on deserting the story, there just may be a few long delays getting it done because I can't access the Internet. Hopefully that will be fixed soon. In the meantime, I have started chapter 4, so hopefully it will be out by next week.

Please, help me out by clicking the review button and at least let me know if you think I'm heading in the right direction with this story or not. Feedback helps tell me if you think it's good, or a bunch of BS. Thanks.