"IMPERIUM"

Proudly brought to you by various Stargate Fans… the other, other, other white meat…

I really, really should be writing an essay on 'Macbeth'. Really. And I apologise if this chapter is kind of… funky (ha, ha!).

Let's just say I was at a really big party last night. I'm still seeing things.


"You have untapped greatness inside you, Sam. But you're limited by your own fears. You play by the rules, you do as you're told and you deny yourself your own desires."

"I have no desire to rule the galaxy, believe me."

"All humans desire power. It's just that most of them are never in a position to attain it."

The Repli-Carter and Carter, "Gemini"


Jack watched from the control room as SG-1 lined up for their first mission since Sam's accident. The fight between himself and his Colonel had already become the stuff of legends on the base. In the latest version he had heard, Sam had been wearing a very revealing Spandex suit and had beaten him by knocking him out with a barbell. Other versions recounted that she had ripped out a chunk of his hair and… eaten it. He shook his head ruefully as he thought back to the wild rumours floating around the base. Surprisingly, no one had begrudged him the loss. He had many people who had watched the fight congratulate him and inform him that they didn't think anyone could have done better under the circumstances.

"Um… sir?" asked the 'gate technician.

"What?" asked Jack, ripped from his reverie.

"SG-1 have been waiting your confirmation for around three minutes."

He looked down into the 'gate room and found SG-1 staring back up at him expectantly.

"Oh! Right… feel free to take 'em out, Colonel."

"Yes, sir," Sam said brightly.

She nodded to Daniel and Teal'c, who ascended the ramp and disappeared through the shining pool. Sam smiled back up at him as she attached the ribbon device Jack had allowed her into a special holster on her hip. The holster made sure that it was concealed from view, lest a new group of alien friends thought they really were Goa'uld. A Jaffa, and now an active ribbon device probably did very little to dispell this idea, so she hid it away. Jack sighed as he watched her move rapidly up the ramp and disappear; wondering if allowing her to carry the device was the best or worst decision he had ever made.


The General made his way back slowly to his office and slumped down in his chair, pondering what was happening on the other side of the 'gate, millions of miles away. So lost in thought was he that he jumped about a mile in the air when his aide came through the door.

"Sir?"

"Yeah?" Jack asked, shaking his head to clear it.

"There's an urgent call for you on line two."

"This better be the President," Jack said wearily as he waved the aide out and picked up the receiver. "O'Neill."

"Good morning, General," an unusually grave but familiar voice answered. "We need to talk."

Jack reeled as he recognised the speaker.

"Shanahan? What do you want?"


Daniel and Teal'c turned as their commanding officer followed them through the 'gate.

"Alright, guys," Sam said, very chipper. "The UAV seemed to show signs of life in that direction."

She raised a finger to point directly at the planets massive sun. Daniel shielded his eyes and followed the line of her finger.

"There seems to be some kind of smoke coming from that direction," he observed.

"Indeed," concurred Teal'c.

"Alright, well… shall we, gentlemen?" Sam said, adjusting her pack slightly before moving off.


"How did you get this number?" Jack demanded. The pair had met on several occasions, and they had stretched the boundaries of civility every time. They usually only held it together for Sam's sake, each recognising (albeit grudgingly) that they were both very important to her life.

"Listen, Jack…"

"General O'Neill, thanks," he snapped back icily.

"General… it's unimportant how I got this number. I rang you to talk about Sam."

"I'm sorry, Pete, but she's not here right now. Can I take a message?" he said, his voice laced with saccharine sarcasm.

"I wasn't aware you were her personal answering machine," Pete replied.

"Neither was I, but apparently that's in the fine print."

Jack heard Pete exhale a loud sigh, and a few moments of silence stretched between them.

"Can we cut the sarcasm for just a minute, O'Neill? Or is that too difficult?"

"Fine…" Jack said grudgingly. "What about Sam?"

"Has she been acting… kind of… funky, lately?"

"Funky, Shanahan? What exactly do you mean by… funky? Is this cop-speak I'm not aware of?" Jack said, trying and failing miserably not to sound bitter and acerbic.

"Why don't you like me, O'Neill?"

"Why do you use words like funky?"

They paused for breath again, each privately stewing at the other man.

"Listen, can we just focus on Samantha, here? Cause something isn't right. And when something isn't right with her, I usually assume it has something to do with what goes on in that crazy mountain of yours."

"Okay, okay. What's wrong with Carter?"

"You know, you can't call her 'Carter' forever. She's not going to be 'Carter' forever," said Pete, continuing off on another tangent again.

"Yes, she is," Jack said stubbornly, kicking himself inwardly for sounding so childish.

"So what exactly do you think her name is going be once we're married?" Pete said, frustration evident in his voice.

"Samantha Carter?" Jack said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well… she will be my wife," Pete said, emphasising the last word. "I was thinking Samantha Shanahan."

"Samantha Shanahan? What is she, some riverboat showgirl?"

Pete went silent, and Jack smiled triumphantly to himself.

"Listen, at the present point in time, whatever we call her is irrelevant. I… I'm worried about her, too, though I probably wouldn't describe it as 'funky'," Jack said eventually, trying to make peace for the sake of his Colonel.

"Okay, you're right," Pete conceded, sighing.

"However… 'Showgirl Sam Shanahan' is a bit crass, you have to admit."

"O'Neill!" Pete growled at him.

"Okay… okay… so what do you think is up with Sam?"

"She's… the other night, she was on downtime, yeah?"

"Yeah…"

"I visited her at her place… and she had this… thing, attached to her arm. Like… the first time I found out about the Stargate program? That woman, the alien? Sam had one of those arm things… only bigger. It was attached to her arm and… well she looked kind of wild. I mean, she took it off when I came in, but it didn't seem quite… right. I wondered if you knew anything about it."

There was a moment of silence.

"O'Neill?" Pete asked. "Hello?"

He was greeted by a dull beeping.

Jack had hung up.


Jack raced out of his office and into the control room.

"You!" he snapped at the nearest person with a computer terminal. "Which teams are on world and on base?"

"Er…" stammered the startled technician, hands flying across the keyboard. "SG Units 4, 7, 8, 11 and 13 are on base, sir."

"Have SG-4 prepped and ready to go through the Stargate. Have SG-13 ready for a topside retrieval mission," Jack ordered. "Have them in the briefing room."

The technician grabbed a microphone and announced over the PA system:

"SG-4, please prepare for a mission through the 'gate, ASAP. SG-13, please prepare for a topside retrieval mission, ASAP. Please report to the briefing room, under orders of General O'Neill. I repeat..."


No less than fifteen minutes later, the two teams were in the briefing room, awaiting their orders.

"Colonels," Jack addressed the leaders of the two teams. "I need you to both act fast. SG-4, you are going through the 'gate to retrieve SG-1, particularly Colonel Carter. You have authorised use of force. SG-13, I need you to retrieve a Goa'uld item from Colonel Carter's home. Here is the address, and a picture of the object."

"What's wrong with Colonel Carter, sir?" asked Colonel Walsh, commander of SG-13, as he took the paper and studied the device.

"I'm not sure at this point in time, Walsh. But it is imperative that she, and this item, are returned to base immediately. SG-4 and 13, you have a go."


Jack returned to the control room as they dialled up the 'gate. SG-4 were on the ramp, with only his somewhat cryptic orders to go on.

"Chevron Seven, locked."

The Stargate roared to life, and SG-4 were already moving, running through the 'gate and disappearing into the wormhole.

Jack watched silently as the 'gate shut itself down as the last member went through.

He sighed.