CHAPTER FIVE – Kaleidescope


When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.

Sonnet 30 by William Shakespeare


After the mission with the Replicators, it was several days before feelings between the members of SG-1 could be described as anything but strained. Jonas felt he could understand Sam's frustration. In some ways he shared it, but it was worse for her. Sam was the one who had connected with Fifth. She was the one who had promised him trust and friendship. In Fifth's eyes, she would be the one who had betrayed him.

She wasn't exactly angry with Colonel O'Neill— she acknowledged her understanding of his choice. She even agreed that it was probably what had needed to be done. But, as she quietly confessed to Jonas one afternoon, none of that took away the feelings of guilt and uncertainty that had plagued her since it happened. It hurt, she told him. What if they could have saved Fifth?

Jonas confided his observations to Teal'c, and was rewarded— as he had been on many occasions— by the Jaffa's surprising but helpful insight into their teammates. Teal'c told him that it wasn't unheard of for Sam to disagree with the Colonel. She and Doctor Jackson had been very alike in that respect, except that Doctor Jackson had no inhibitions about vocalizing his opinions— usually quite liberally.

"Well, I don't think Sam's the kind of person who is afraid to say what she thinks," Jonas pointed out. "So why does she hold back where Doctor Jackson didn't?"

"Do you believe she should be more outspoken in this matter, Jonas Quinn?"

Jonas shrugged. "I'm not saying one way or the other. I don't really think this is a case of right or wrong. I'm just curious about why she would bottle this up when it's obviously hurting her so much."

Teal'c looked thoughtful. Finally, he said, "Major Carter is first and foremost bound by her duty to O'Neill as her commanding officer. To question his authority and judgment too frequently and too vehemently would reflect poorly on his leadership capabilities and not be beneficial for a strong chain of command."

Jonas considered and then nodded. "Which is something Doctor Jackson certainly didn't need to worry about. I guess I can see that."

"Also, Major Carter has expressed her opinion to O'Neill on one occasion. I believe Major Carter feels this more than sufficient. She knows that O'Neill is a very strong-willed individual. Repetitive argument very rarely has any effect upon him."

After this analysis, Jonas decided to reevaluate his opinion of his own ability to read human character. He'd always considered himself rather adept, but now he thought that perhaps people on Kelowna were simply more open all around, hence easier to read.

Sam seemed to deal with this awkward distance between herself and the Colonel by consuming herself in work, and Jonas followed her example. While Sam concentrated on the data collected by her monitoring equipment on 651, Jonas worked for three straight days and nights translating every last bit of Ancient text he could find in the small holocube he'd found there. He slept little, for his fascination with his findings seemed to feed his adrenaline. The more he learned, the more complete a context he was able to create, making the translation go more and more speedily.

Finally, he learned enough that he requested a meeting with General Hammond and the team.

"The cube," he said excitedly when they were all gathered together for what felt like the first time in forever, "is a kind of daily log or record, which was maintained by the manager of this place and his subordinates."

"Manager?" Colonel O'Neill repeated, slowly lifting away the cover of the folder Jonas had provided with translation of all the menus and lists he'd discovered. "Manager of what?"

"It's an incredible find," Jonas said, nodding at the picture of the cube that Sam was looking at. "It tells us things about this place that we would only have been able to speculate about before."

"Such as?" Colonel O'Neill prompted impatiently, waving his hand in a circle to emphasize. Sam continued perusing the notes at her own rate while Jonas talked.

"Unlike other kinds of Ancient text and dialogue we've run across before, the wording of this is very simple and straightforward. It was hardly any trouble at all to translate, which makes sense, because the people who were writing it probably weren't looking to create epic masterpieces, only to do their jobs."

"Jonas!" Colonel O'Neill snapped.

"Colonel?"

"What does it say?"

"Oh. Right. This whole place— the stargate, the ruins, the obelisk— they were all part of a special Ancient mining project. Well, actually I guess you could say it was a manufacturing project too. Maybe more manufacturing than mining, but anyway— the cube was a kind of daily log book or recording device that the workers used to—"

"Crystals," said Sam excitedly.

The Colonel turned and frowned at her, then peered at the page she was looking at, as if expecting it to say something totally different than the identical page somewhere in his own folder. "What?" he asked.

Sam looked up at Jonas. "You think they built some kind of natural factory— where they grew the crystals they used in their technology."

Jonas nodded. "I'm almost a hundred percent positive. If I'm reading between the lines correctly, the production facilities were actually within the mountains themselves, and the obelisk is the door… somehow."

Sam turned excitedly to General Hammond. "General, this could be huge. The Goa'uld absorbed the knowledge of Ancient crystal technology, but we've never been able to learn how it's done."

"And by how, you mean…?" Colonel O'Neil began.

Sam turned to him. "Sir, as you know, crystals are found in nature, but they can also be artificially grown with the right materials and conditions. The Tok'ra are especially skilled in this, but their resources are limited. We've yet been able to determine where and how the Goa'uld obtain their supply."

General Hammond looked at Teal'c. "Teal'c, do you have any knowledge about that?"

"I do not. Jaffa are not permitted knowledge of crystal technology. It would undermine the Goa'uld pretense of being gods."

"Goa'uld magic, right Teal'c?" Colonel O'Neill said knowingly, smiling a little.

"Indeed."

"So why do we need an Ancient crystal factory?" The Colonel asked. "I mean, if they can be grown, why haven't we ever just made our own?"

"We could try, Sir, but the crystals the Goa'uld use are too pure and too perfect to be created by our current technology." She nodded at her folder. "This place could give us insight."

"It is also possible that the Ancient outpost exceeds even the knowledge of the Goa'uld in its level of crystal technology," Teal'c said. "We may obtain a tactical advantage."

"I'm all for that," Colonel O'Neill said, looking impressed. He glanced at his folder a little more favorably.

"So am I," General Hammond agreed. "What I'd like to know, though, is that if this place is such a technological find, why is it the Goa'uld haven't snatched it up already?"

"From what I can gather," Jonas replied, "there was a giant shield around the entire outpost that protected the Ancients' resources there, including the stargate. There seemed to be some kind of territorial dispute between two factions of the Ancients. The shield was a defensive measure."

"Which might explain why there's no evidence of any permanent settlement," Sam observed.

"Maybe, but I think that has more to do with the gravitational conditions of the planet," Jonas said.

Enlightenment overcame Sam's features. "The heavy gravity would be a very favorable condition for the crystal manufacturing," she said, nodding excitedly.

"So where is this shield now?" the General asked, deftly shuffling the conversation back on track.

"Burned out?" suggested Colonel O'Neill.

Jonas shrugged apologetically. "That'd be my guess."

"So… the Goa'uld knew this place was here, but could never access all this stuff before?" the Colonel asked skeptically.

"Guess we've just got great timing," Sam said with a shrug. She looked very pleased.

"Yeah, until somebody notices the electric fence is broken," the Colonel pointed out.

General Hammond turned to Jonas. "Does the cube explain how to open the door?"

"That's where it gets tricky," Jonas replied. "The cube keeps talking about a key— I think it's one of those devices I found along with it, but I can't imagine how either rof them would be a key. One of them won't even turn on."

"Major," the General said to Sam, "I'd like you to help Jonas investigate these devices. We'll see if we can't figure this out. If this crystal technology has as much potential benefit as you say, I think it's worth a shot."

"Yes sir, I agree."

A couple of hours later found Sam and Jonas hard at work pursuing answers to their new findings.

"I think," Sam said, holding up the device that Jonas hadn't been able to make work— the one that fitted on the hand— "that its power source is just depleted. I might be able to interface it." She began assembling some tools together.

There was a knock outside the laboratory door. "Evening, kids," Colonel O'Neill greeted, stepping inside. He was wearing his street clothes, and looked at his watch expectantly. "Carter, I know you're having fun, but I believe we have a mission tomorrow, remember?" Don't make me order you to go home."

Sam looked up and smiled. "No, sir. Just let me get this thing turned on and I'll close up shop, I promise." Impulsively, she looked over and handed him the other of the Ancient devices— the one that looked like a pair of silver headphones. "In the meantime, check this out," she said, eagerly extending the device toward him.

He stepped forward and accepted it warily. "What is it?"

Sam reached out for the device again. "We're not exactly sure," she said, moving to put it on his head, "but—"

Colonel O'Neill jerked back. "Hey, hey!" he said. "I've had enough alien devices messing with my head for three lifetimes."

"Sir, Jonas tried it on four days ago and there's nothing wrong with him."

Colonel O'Neill looked over at Jonas skeptically, making Sam smile.

"It's really interesting, Colonel," Jonas took the opportunity to urge. "Go ahead, try it."

"I've tried it too," Sam assured him. "It's fine."

Looking extremely skeptical, Colonel O'Neill grudgingly allowed Sam to fit him with the device. A portion of the headset flipped away from his face, so that there was a thin wire set directly in front of his eyes about six inches. Then Sam flipped the small crystal switch.

The Colonel jumped slightly, which wasn't that different than the way Jonas had reacted when he'd initially tried it on. The device projected a beautiful stream of holographic images before the eyes which— as far as he and Sam were able to tell— was only discernable to the wearer. The stream was constantly shifting colors and patterns. There were also pulses, Jonas had noticed— flares of brighter color, almost like a rhythm of some kind.

After studying the effects of the device for a few moments, Colonel O'Neill raised his eyebrows. "Cool," he commented cautiously. Then he reached up and pulled it off. "Carter," he said, "need I remind you what happened the last time we found an alien machine that made pretty lights?"

"I know, sir, but Jonas has been getting the proper medical checkups, just like all of us. He's fine."

"Well, all the same. If any of you start randomly spouting Ancient or trying to jump out of windows, don't say I didn't warn you." He turned the device off and pulled it from his head

"Who's to say there's not some perfectly innocent purpose to this device?" Jonas asked. Sam and Colonel O'Neill both gave him puzzled expressions, so he went on, "I mean, the Ancients had a very extensive and developed culture, so it stands to reason that not everything they invented had some scientific or groundbreaking purpose." He shrugged. "For all we know, this could be nothing more than an Ancient's version of a kaleidoscope."

"That's a good point," Sam said, turning from her tinkering to give Colonel O'Neill a superior expression. Jonas was pleased to see that the two of them seemed to be returning to their former relaxed friendship.

Sam turned back to her work. "Okay," she said slowly. "I think this is ready. Here goes."

Jonas and Colonel O'Neill leaned forward expectantly as Sam brought together two connectors with a steady hand. Almost instantly the strange, translucent keys which covered the top of the handheld device lit up from within an array of rainbow-colored lights.

The threesome said nothing, though Colonel O'Neill cocked his head with interest. Sam and Jonas exchanged expectant glances before Jonas carefully picked up the device and slipped his hand inside it. He waited a moment, and when still nothing had changed, selected one of the keys and pushed it experimentally with his forefinger.

The result was a clear, crystalline tone which vibrated almost soothingly throughout Sam's lab.

"Pretty," observed Colonel O'Neill.

"Yeah," Jonas agreed, smiling. A little less hesitantly, he tried another. This produced a similar sound, but higher. Several moments later, it became clear that this effect was uniform for every key on the device.

"That sound…" Sam murmured, deep in thought. She looked at Colonel O'Neill. "Does it seem familiar to you?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "I don't remember."

"No," she said, comprehension suddenly overtaking her features. "No, you might not. I'm not sure you were there long enough. "Sir," she said, "this sounds exactly like the force field that was guarding the Sentinel."

"The Sentinel?" both Jonas and the Colonel repeated.

"That thing that Grieves and Kershaw screwed up?" the Colonel added.

"Yes, sir. Daniel was able to figure out the secret behind opening the force field. It had something to do with music. I can't remember the particulars."

"Corresponding wavelengths between pitch and the visible light spectrum," Jonas said offhandedly, his mind rapidly racing over the report he'd read from that mission.

"Right," said Colonel O'Neill, nodding, though he was looking disbelievingly at Jonas. Sam smiled, and the Colonel turned back to her. "Okay, Carter. Home. Bed. Now, please. You should get some rest too, Jonas. I'll see you both in the morning."

After he'd gone, Sam began putting away her things. "I'll re-read the mission report on the Sentinel device," Jonas said. "If you really believe there's a connection, it might be worth looking into."

"Good idea," she replied, and glanced at the clock. "But if you want to get it tonight, you'd better get up there before they lock the records room."

"Right." He gathered his notes and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Major. Thanks for your help."

"Good night, Jonas."

Jonas managed to catch the woman who maintained mission records before she locked her office. A charming smile and a little imploring persuaded her to allow him in. Jonas was very familiar with this room, having spent the better part of his first few months at the SGC becoming familiar with the contents within, and the story they told. As such, it wasn't difficult to obtain the specific file he needed. He knew exactly where to go to find it.

As he withdrew the desired mission report, his eyes fell on another, a mere handful of folders behind it in the drawer. Almost hypnotically, he reached out and withdrew the second report, gazing at the cover painfully. It looked so innocent and innocuous, and the combination of letters and numbers upon it were an inadequate representation of its importance to Jonas. P2S-4C3. Kelowna.

The edges of the file were well-worn. Jonas was hardly the only person who had read it. Almost everyone at the SGC had wanted to learn the details of Doctor Jackson's death and he knew General Hammond had been forced to heavily enforce classification protocol to prevent everyone and their sister from reading the file at their leisure, simply to satisfy their own curiosity.

Jonas forced himself to put the folder away, but a malaise of melancholy hung about him as he checked out the report for the Sentinel mission, bid goodnight to the record keeper, and made his way to his quarters for the night. Sometimes it was hard to believe it hadn't even been a year since those fateful events, either by Earth days or Kelownan. A year ago, the stargate on his homeworld had been nothing more than a neglected curiosity. All the focus and attention had been consumed with the naquadria project and the looming threat of war.

If SG-1 had never come to Kelowna, everyone Jonas had known and loved there would now be dead, himself along with them. With no Doctor Jackson there to prevent disaster, Jonas was reasonably certain the naquadria experiments would ultimately have destroyed them all.

"Now you might think it will ensure peace and freedom, but I guarantee you, it will never have the effect you're hoping for until you use it at least once."

He still remembered every word Colonel O'Neill had said to him that day.

But you just go ahead. Blow yourself to hell with it.

Jonas sighed heavily as he got off the elevator for the final time that night. It did no good, he resolved for the thousandth time, to fret over what had passed. His regret was something he'd have to live with forever. There was no escaping it; to that he was resolved. But he would never be able to forget, nor cease worrying over what further mistakes his people might be making, even as he was slowly building himself a life in this new place.

A sound interrupted his reverie. A bright, pleasant sound, one that caused him to look up. Amelia Kinsey was practicing her violin. He smiled. He'd been treated the past few evenings to the sound of her music— her room being just down the hall from his— but he hadn't spoken with her since their lunch together in the mess a few days ago, just before the Prometheus incident.

In an odd mimic of the first time he'd met her, Jonas knocked politely on the door of Amelia's room and the violin abruptly stopped. A moment later the door was opened and Amelia's face appeared. "Jonas!" she said with a pleasant smile. "Please, come in."

Leaving the door open behind him, Jonas stepped into the room and looked around. It seemed a little bit more lived in than last time. The bedclothes were rumpled and scattered with random leaves of sheet music. There were a couple of shirts carelessly tossed on top of the bureau, and remnants of a meal on the coffee table next to the TV.

"It's nice to see you again," Amelia continued, putting the violin away in its case as she spoke. "I heard you got in a spot of trouble while you were gone. I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah, it was an interesting experience," he agreed. "But we managed." He nodded at her violin. "It sounded good. Again."

"You heard me?"

"Every night, actually. That's kind of why I'm here."

She seemed dismayed. "Oh, was it too loud? I'm sorry. I brought my practice mute. I can use it, if it's bothering you."

"No," Jonas replied quickly. "No, that's not it at all. Actually, I've really been enjoying it, though Teal'c and a couple of other offworld residents have their quarters here," he realized out loud. "Maybe we should ask them."

"Probably," she agreed, looking regretful. "But why did you come, then?"

"Um," he began, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly and laughing a little, "I was wondering if you'd be interested in teaching me how to play a little. Just while you're here, I mean," he went on in a rush. "See, I'm not allowed to leave the base, and sometimes I get bored in my downtime. Plus, I've always really wanted to learn about music. If it's not too much trouble."

Amelia looked thoughtful. "I can certainly try," she said at last. "But strings isn't exactly the easiest instrument family to pick up and go with. I'm not sure how much I'd be able to teach you in the short term."

"I'm a really quick study," he offered helpfully. When she laughed, he shrugged with a smile. "No, really. I am. Everyone says so."

She just smiled another moment more before finally shaking her head. "Okay, then. When do we start?"

"Well, I've got a couple missions coming up," he said, thinking aloud. "One tomorrow and one two days after, but I've got a little time in between. Is the day after tomorrow okay?"

"I'm supposed to have a checkup with Doctor Fraiser every day about four o'clock, but that's all I've got going on," Amelia said. "Barring any medical disasters she has to deal with, of course," she added, "which seems to happen a lot."

Jonas frowned and closed his eyes. "Four o'clock, that's—"

"Oh, sorry. Um, sixteen hundred?"

He opened his eyes. "Right. Thanks. Okay, how does thirteen hundred hours strike you. Right after lunch?"

"Thirteen hundred, day after tomorrow," Amelia confirmed with a smile. "It's a deal."

Jonas went to bed feeling much better.


A/N:- Okay, I'm posting this in a huge hurry, getting ready to leave for rehearsal. I haven't re-read it for typos, so just… overlook them when you find them. I'll comb through it later. LOL

As the Sentinel isn't one of the most popular or well-remembered episodes in the history of Stargate (probably because it's blindsided by the episode next in line), I was surprised upon re-watching it to discover the musical idea of harmonics that I thought I so cleverly utilized in the original version of this fic had already been taken. But, rebounding type that I am, I decided to use it to my advantage. LOL

Terreis- It's tretonin. Sorry, pushed "send" on the reply to your review too quickly.

Pike- Yes, and the sequel should be good! I've gotten some great Egyptology information from a friend to work with, and I think you'll be proud of it. LOL

Until next time!

Saché