Star Granger Season 5 - Chapter 3

Thoughts

"speech"

"Goa'uld speech"

SG SG SG SG SG SG SG

May 6th 2002 - Vis-Uban

"You can't go in there in your condition." R is stopped at the door by Seth.

Obviously, he knows.

"Listen," he adds softly, when she rolls her eyes on him. "The place is contaminated with radiation and we haven't had the opportunity to decontaminate it yet. I'll update you as soon as it's safe for you to go inside."

There's a blank look on his face. The one doctors wear when there is no hope, and they do not need to give false ones to the patient or his family.

Daniel is on one of the treatment beds, inside the isolation chamber, with a force field separating himself from the others. Sappho and a Nox healer are in there with him, both wearing a personal force shield, to protect themselves from the residual radiation. The rest of the SG1 team are also here. Sam and Jack are laying on treatment beds as well, connected to some kind of infusion, and looking rather annoyed. All were clearly scrabbed thoroughly and are only wearing hospital wear. I swear down - those hospital gowns are made with the single intention of confining the patients to their beds. Doesn't seem to stop Teal'c from standing vigil over Daniel in front of the isolation lab. He does show the room his rather well built behind and doesn't seem to care much, if at all.

Our arrival is noticed by Healer Chanda. "Good, you're here. I need you to go through this place, from the Port hall, all the way here, and sterilise any and every surface." The Emergency and labs have cleaning circuitry installed, but we never thought to install those in the corridors. Harry nods and walks back out. He'll handle it.

Much better than me with cleaning, at any rate.

"There was an incident with radioactive material on that planet they were visiting. Daniel was within the immediate location and in direct contact with the substance," Seth informs me. Doesn't even need to detail the level of exposure.

"Did anyone notify SGC?" I ask, then go out towards the nearest communication post. General Hammond would like to be informed. Probably come over. Dr Fraiser as well.

When back to the emergency, Sam is off her bed and standing beside Teal'c.

Has a nicely built behinds as well.

Jack is still confined to his bed and isn't too chuffed about it. A Nox healer is standing over him, examining his knees not too gently.

"Hey!" Jack complains before the healer rubs his hands then hovers them over Jack's knees, emitting some light. This is Nox healing magic, which neither Chanda, nor Fleur have ever managed to learn, just like our transfiguration left Lya frustrated.

"Thanks buddy!" Jack acknowledges after jumping a few times on the spot and trying some squats. He then hurries to join Sam and Teal'c in their vigil.

Nevermind…

"Mate," I ask the Nox healer, "Didn't you guys treat O'Neill once already?"

Exasperation is an amusing feeling to see shining through your regular Nox serenity. "Lya, of the council, revived him once," he answers. "Hardly a healer," he then mumbles to himself.

I go and join the SG guys in front of the isolation force field. "Can you help him?" Sam asks me softly.

"No," Sappho is the one who answers, coming out of isolation.


May 7th 2002 - Vis-Uban

Took the General and Dr Fraiser a few hours to arrive. And for us all to be updated. Apparently this mid-twentieth-century advanced planet SG1 were visiting, Langara, has reached the all exciting stage in which they discovered the wonders of nuclear reaction and pondered the possibility of a weapon to end all wars. Only instead of playing with some Uranium, capable of levelling a city. Maybe even Plutonium, and lay waste to a small country - they started up with Naquadria, which is both unstable, and has the potential energy to blow up their planet.

Ambitious sort.

For a moment there, I can see exactly why the more advanced races around are so reluctant to show new technologies to dim and immature young races - like us Tau'ri. Also, it's one thing for a race, like the Langarians, to discover the technology to do themselves in. It's a whole different kettle of fish for a more advanced race to supply their neighbours with the tools for self destruction.

Still, a smirk is a rather unbecoming expression for a Tollan.

The rest of the team were not at the immediate location,

The lucky sods,

But we all watched Daniel's memories of the event. The Langarian scientists were working on defining the Naquadria's critical mass by manually combining half-spheres of the material in growing sizes, just like poor Louis Slotin once did in Los Alamos, and with exactly the same end results. Daniel walked in on them right when the accident happened, and being the self-sacrificing Gryffindor pillock he is, rushed in and probably saved the Langarian planet from destruction.

Naturally, they accuse him of sabotaging the experiment and causing the accident.

"This Naquadria is bad news, though," a Tria's engineer remarks. "It doesn't occur naturally. We managed to create this isotope's molecules in the lab for research a few times. When introduced to regular Naquadah ore two processes are occurring - First, it's half-life time is ridiculous, so the isotope tends to disintegrate itself into radiation within months. Meanwhile, it starts to convert the Naquadah ore around it into Naquadria isotope too. The fact that Naquadria can be mined on Langara means that the conversion process there advances faster than its decay. It depends on the size and form of the Naquadah vein, but potentially it might go on till the Naquadria reaches its critical mass, and…"

General Hammond promises to contact the Langarians, warn them, and offer our help, but the Tau'ri are not their most trusted people at the moment. I can see he's also curious about the identity of the said engineer, but the man's not forthcoming.

We are soon back to the discussion regarding what can be done for Daniel. Depressingly enough, the answer is 'not much'. Sure, he was given something for the pain. We try to make him comfortable. But, ultimately the radiation dose he suffered is quite lethal.

"Don't you have access to a Sarcophagus?" Jack asks us. "You guys actually raised us back from the dead, before?" he all but pleads with the Nox healer.

Clearly, he doesn't understand the technology, nor the Nox abilities.

"The healing radiography balancer," Sappho starts.

"That's the technology behind the Sarcophagi," Seth explains.

"Can heal the body, to a point. It can even make it breathe again and regain a heartbeat, but it needs a starting point. There isn't a healthy cell in Daniel's body to build upon. Then there's the damage to his brain. If we do use it to the needed extent, and it miraculously works - all we'll get is a brain-dead walking body," Sappho concludes.

"Now, the Goa'uld don't mind much about the host's brain," Harry remarks.

"But we are all here, having this discussion, since we do care about Daniel's," I summarise.

"Same is with our way of healing," the Nox healer explains. "It's not that different from the Tau'ri CPR, if a bit more effective and far reaching. We can heal a body, if possible, and then invite the soul to return, as long as it all happens soon after the body's death, but if the body is too damaged, or the soul moved on, there is nothing more that we can do. You have been healed from plasma wounds, which is simple enough to heal quickly. The radiation exposure Daniel has suffered is beyond us."

"Cloning him a new body?" Sam offers.

Yet before anyone is able to answer, alarm lights start blinking and cut our depressing discussion short.

Bloody hell!

"Some extreme energy reading from emergency," local control updates us.

The holographic presentation of the base, R brings up, shows a clear ZPE heat spot at the lab's location. At over two hundred Merlins, it's the strongest I have ever seen.

"Bollocks!" I cry out, and dash towards the infirmary. Harry is a few steps in front of me already.

Emergency looks as normal as it can with a dying person in. It's empty but for Daniel in isolation. A navy medic is keeping vigil and is mostly reading something on his screen. He stands up in surprise, when our whole group bursts in.

"Show yourself," Harry says conversationally to the room, but he's looking pointedly at a spot beside Daniel's bed.

"Then clear off!" Sappho adds coldly.

We wait a long moment, and nothing happens. The medic is looking at us a bit funny. The others gathered now into the infirmary are giving us those looks as well, though I think Sam has an inkling. Daniel, on his bed, is looking properly surprised.

"Marvellous," I deadpan, after nothing happens for a while. Sappho answers me with a very Fleur-like shrug, as if to say 'what did you expect'.

Harry is looking at the spot beside Daniel's bed. "Please?" he adds softly. He then sighs, places a personal shield on his chest, and walks in through the barrier. I slap one on myself, and hurry after him.

Not leaving him alone with it.

As soon as I'm inside, I feel a tickle at the edge of my mind. I gather my magic and slam it at the ticklish point, already holding my wand in my hand. "How rude!" I reprimand, well, the air around Daniel's bed, mostly.

Harry reaches out with his left hand, palm up. In the middle of his palm a circle lights up and shortly after a haze shows beside the bed and slowly focuses into the form of a woman. She's a tall and slim middle-aged blonde. Dressed in a light natural coloured suit and looks to be very sophisticated. In my mind, I imagine Beatrix nod in approval. Her face, though, is a curious combination of superiority, surprise, amusement, and anger. There is a wee bit of fear somewhere in the mix too. The result is much less reassuring than she would have probably liked it to be.

Beside me, Sappho is looking at Harry with huge eyes. Then turns to look at me with very narrow ones.

"Now can I please try and help Daniel, in his time of need?" Lady blonde puts as much exasperation into her tone of voice as she can only manage and Harry waves her onwards. What follows is the most useless drivel I have ever witnessed. Honestly, it puts even the old pillock to shame.

"Find your way to the next path; Release your burden; Tall man can't hide in the short grass;"

We should probably be insulted by this one.

"One can't reach enlightenment by running from death," the blonde tells Daniel, and earns a loud snort from Sappho. Blonde is clearly annoyed by this.

"Many roads lead to the great path, only the willing will find their way," she lectures Daniel.

Hilarious!

"Just, never let anyone drive you crazy," I tell him, and make him chuckle softly.

"It is nearby anyway and the walk is good for you," Daniel answers me, quoting from my beloved book. It annoys the blonde lady to no end, which is a bonus.

"The river tells no lies," she tries to continue with her string of pretended wisdom, but we are all weary of riddle speaking relics. Even when they don't wear long flowing beards and are not dressed in robes - colourful or otherwise. "You believe your journey is not over," she tells Daniel, but he cuts her short.

"You're speaking of ascension," Daniel gets to the point. "Suppose I'm interested," he asks. "How do I go about it?"

Blonde explains something rather vague and obscure about how personal the 'route to enlightenment' is, and how one needs to 'feel deserving' to reach this goal.

Not much for a manual.

Turns out Daniel's one of those, and doesn't really feel enlightened. Nor deserving, as things stand.

"If you immediately know the candlelight is fire - the meal was cooked long ago," Blonde tells him. I don't believe she meant it to sound so scornful, but then, we all put quite a bit of performance pressure on her.

"What utter nonsense," Harry remarked, rather disgusted.

"I believe that what Daniel here needs most right now are some straight answers and cold truths," I tell her and take out my trusty Sneakoscope. "Let us start with introductions?"

"Think your toy can force me to play your games, little witch?" The woman is truly pissed off now.

"Oh no, deary," Sappho answers. "We can't force the likes of you to do anything."

"But if you break it, or bypass it - Daniel will know," Harry deadpans.

She looks at the little spinning top with weary eyes. Turns out her name is Oma Desala.

Mother nature? How pretentious.

Finally, we manage to get some real information out of her. What 'continuing the journey' actually means is watching all that you care for going down the drains and doing nothing about it. It's that rubbish about 'non-interference' and the 'other' ascended. By now, Daniel has already met and worked with Orlin, so he asked Oma if wiping out the Velonians was a representative example of 'non-interference'. He didn't get an answer to that question.

"Did the others 'not interfere' as a punishment to Orlin, for daring to help the Velonians defend themselves, or to the Velonians for daring to attack their neighbours?" Harry asks, and receives the same non answer.

"So... " I hear Jack butt into the discussion. "Would those others 'not interfere' with Earth too, if we ever develop far enough, and will go on an offensive?"

Turns out this question doesn't deserve a direct and enlightened response as well.

"The universe is vast, and we are so small. All we can do is ask ourselves - are we good or evil?" Oma tries to avoid further questions, with some more pretend wisdom.

"This is a very good question," Daniel is quick to agree.

"Well, are you?" Jack asks. "The others? You personally?" This question too is left floating.

"Now, sod off!" Sappho concludes rather forcefully.

"Just a moment," I tell Oma. "Daniel will probably be interested in your actual form?"

Oma hesitates for a moment, then her form morphs to show a sotra octopus of light creature.

"Your true actual form," Harry deadpans. For a long moment nothing happens, but when Harry starts reaching out with his hand again, the light suddenly gains veins of colour - Blacks, reds, oranges and blues.

How Vorlon of her.

"Thanks!" Harry remarks and looks at Oma with great interest. "Interesting," he adds, mostly to himself.

"You are a destroyer of souls," Oma states, looking intently at Harry, not quite accusing.

"I have only destroyed this one soul in my entire life," he answers with a benign smile. "And it has arguably already been damaged beyond repair by its owner, at that time. You, however…" he remarks and keeps staring at Oma. "Is this what you need to do to tether your soul to his world? Can you even move on if you ever wanted to?"

In place of a proper response, Oma huffs.

Well, as best as a dirty light octopus can.

And clear off through the ceiling, leaving behind a thoughtful Daniel, a rather subdued group, and Sappho staring, very pointedly at Harry and then at me.

What?!


May 15th - Upper State NY

It's a miserable funeral.

Almost no one could actually attend, but the Langfords, Sarah, and Beatrix. Daniel's teammates are present, out of uniform, but other SG chaps have no excuse to be here, and neither do we. The news of Daniel's death has been spread somewhat, what with him being infamous in the academia for his ridiculous theories about aliens, the pyramids, and everything. There were a few short articles written, and a few curious representatives of the press in attendance. Last thing we all need is some backwater journalist raising questions regarding the massive attendance of the US air force to his funeral, as well as the owners of a promising energy company, and a list of Astrophysicists of some renown.

A few of us are in attendance, standing at the open back of a couple of cloaked Bricks, hovering a few feet above.

"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." We hear Beatrix's voice from below.

How Dumbledorian…


May 27th 2002 - Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

We have been staying on Earth quite a bit more than usual lately, so sadly, Professor McGonagall's owl has managed to reach us, demanding a meeting. So, here we are. I used the opportunity to hold my annual lecture regarding maths and Runes too.

Not that anything good came out of this. There's a huge climb in students finishing Hogwarts with NEWTs in those subjects, but their level of structured thinking, nevermind maths, is just too low for them to be of any use to us without extensive additional education. And then, there's the fact that they are all missing the formal credentials to get into the higher education system. Out of the seventy three Hogwarts students who graduated the last three years with the relevant NEWTs, only two were interested and tenacious enough to join a university, and only one of them survived the first year.

More than that, both AlteRun and Nox++ have advanced so much that NEWT level Runes, or even Mastery level, are of no use anymore. In all reality, Runes itself is rather obsolete for our use.

Calvin, as he usually is, was right.

We walk these long draughty corridors, and I can't understand just what did I ever find enchanting and intriguing about this place. Down on the fourth floor is one of the world's largest libraries, with not one book I'm actually interested in reading. We sent a couple of drones to scan it about a year back - useless.

The Headmistress office is on the spartan and functional side. Huge improvement over its state under the former administration, if you ask me. Harry and I are seated on straight backed chairs in front of the Headmistress's table, sipping from our cups of wonderful Hogwarts tea and nibbling on those rather dry and crunchy biscuits, while McGonagall tries to pin us down with her piercing stare, that frankly has no effect on us anymore.

"As you well know," the Headmistress addresses us rather imperiously, "The Ministry has decided to abandon hundreds of years of tradition, by changing the Hogwarts curriculum." The tone of her voice clearly reveals her personal opinion of said folly.

Some people have greatness trusted upon them, to their own downfall.

"I know you are both very young and don't have the best NEWT records," she clearly is looking at Harry, saying that. "I also know you are a couple, even though you have never made it formal," she adds. Once more, her tone of voice tells us exactly what her opinion is regarding this.

"However," she moves on, "I have decided to accept you," she is looking straight at me saying this, "As the OWL preparation Rune Professor. I am certain we can find a position for Mr Potter too, being a war hero and a Master in Defence, but truthfully, we do have a steady Defence Professor for the last three years, thank Merlin. I do expect you to keep your hanky panky ways away from our students." she adds, staring at us over the rims of her glasses.

We really try. Both of us are truly fond of the old Headmistress, for all her many faults. We keep our faces straight, focus on sipping our tea, and take careful care not to look at her, or at each other, till we fail, and with the shortest of glances we both burst in laughter.

Didn't laugh this much since that day Harry reassured me regarding Precious insurance coverage.

McGonagall, at her desk, is properly pissed off. Probably rightly so. She has no way to know just how ridiculous her offer is.

"I know Harry is a Lord Potter, and can be a member of the Wizengamot, but being a Professor is a noble role, and a very respectable position for people your age," she dresses us down, earning a new burst of laughter.

Sod it - I have almost got a hold of myself.

Harry is the first to gain enough control over his laughter to form an answer. "Do you know what we do, Professor?" He asks her with his soft smile.

"Something with Muggles," she answers derisively.

"Riiiight," Harry accepts this answer. "We have this wee company that supplies about a tenth of the world's energy needs. "Last year, our revenues were probably in excess of the total worth of the global magical world."

Property included! Unless that place, hidden and lost mid Pacific, is continent sized.

Professor McGonagall is properly impressed, and rather surprised, though I'm quite certain she doesn't actually know what 'energy needs' are.

"We truly believe that teaching children Magic, in excess of what is needed to help them not accidentally kill themselves and others, is an utter waste of their time," I add. This brings the dear Professor out of her balance.

"That daft Minister said the same thing," she rants. "Wants me to teach Maths, Physics, and Bloody English literature!"

Language?

"Just where will I find Professors, for all that Muggle nonsense?"

"Normal!" I snap at her, and she's quite shaken by my outburst.

"You can try the Normal education system," Harry offers softly. "Would probably be a good idea to start by calling them 'Professors', and 'Normals', and not those other things," he offers drily.


"Lord Potter, Lady Granger?" A polite voice stops us on our way to the front doors. The Grey Lady is standing there in front of us and courtesies respectfully.

I have never heard of her speaking?

A few steps behind her, in the shade between torches stands the Bloody Baron and nods. We bow back in respect and quite a bit of curiosity on my part.

"I have heard through the grapevines that you were in contact with one of my mother's colleagues?"

This explains so many things!

The sudden disappearance of the Founders presence and leadership. The disassembly of all tech from school.

"Are you able to pass a word to her that I would like to meet with her one last time?" she asks politely. Pleading almost. Behind her, the Bloody Baron grunts.

"Ascended?" Harry asks and the Baron grunts again.

"They are not our favourite beings in the universe at this time," Harry warns her carefully. This earns him a thin smile, and another grunt from the Baron.

Satisfaction?

"Better do this at the wardline," I offer, and we're on our way.

"Did all the founders of Hogwarts ascend?" Harry is curious to know.

Except for Slytherin. He wanted to stay and teach maths, science, and technology. Leave a legacy behind to enlighten the whole world and lead ZPE-able humans to what he thought was their rightful place among the stars.

"The others Ascended, chased him off with nothing but his personal knowledge, and disappeared, only leaving behind the first edition of that propaganda book," the grey lady explains as we walk,

Or float.

through the corridors and grounds. "He was mostly a chemist, so he was very limited after they left. Helga was an engineer. Mother was a theoretical mathematician - We were hard pressed to understand half of what she was teaching."

"Gryffindor?" Harry asks.

"A bard," she deadpans. "Have you ever seen his hat? Nevermind listen to it sing."

Mark me un-surprised.

More ghosts are joining us on our way, and we are quite a crowd by the time we reach the wardline.

"Nice job hiding the repository interface from your mother," I tell her, and receive another thin smile in response.

With a motion of Harry's hand a haze appears, right outside the wards, then forms into that glowing octopus being.

"Mother," The Grey lady deadpans.

The octopus forms into a petite woman in flowing robes. "Helen," She answers just as frostily.

And the Grey Lady

Helen?

breaks. "I hate you, more than anything, you monster!" She screams at her mother. "I was happy. In love! Wanted to be with him, then move to forever. But no! Mother dear had to make her point. Had to make me do this to my soul, just to be right," she snaps and points at her mother.

In front of us, the light lady form turns dirty coloured. While grey Helen looks on in clear disgust.

"You forced the Baron to choose between his love and his loyalty to you. Hope you rot in this forever you've created for yourself," She almost whispers now.

Lady Ravenclaw stands in front of us impassively, not saying a word.

"So mote it be," Helen finishes softly. "I can move on now," she adds and slowly fades into nothingness.

"For almost a thousand years she wanted to say her words," the Baron tells us quietly. "None of those beings has visited Earth for all that time, except for that ugly posturing bird, and he wasn't willing to pass a message on."

He then bows lightly towards us and turns back to Ravenclaw. "I have made my choice," he says, and fades as well.

Around us many of the ghosts gathered fade too. Many others don't. Nick pulls his head to the side, points at the thin smoky band connecting it to his body and shrugs in exasperation. The fat friar raises his ever present, ever full, wooden glass of ale and salutes us merrily.

"Clear off," Harry tells Ravenclaw softly when we are the only ones left.

"And please tell your friends to keep out of our way," I add.

"Reckon you mages can take us on?" She asks us levelly.

Harry looks at her curiously, with his head slightly tilted to the side.

"Reckon it's a good idea for you to test us on this?" he asks back.

Headmistress McGonagall reaches us right as Lady Ravenclaw fades into the sky. "What have you dim pricks done this time?" she asks us furiously.

Coupable


Coupable - Guilty (French)


A.N.

As you can guess, this chapter was very hard to write. Had to revise it quite a few times, then listened to my betas' remarks and edited it some more. Beside the obvious, this chapter is also important in tying the Stargate and the HP worlds together. It's important for things to come.

Hate it? Like it? have other opinions? - drop me a line :)


As usual - Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who takes the time to make sure the story is a much better read.
Also to Dalwolf For doing Brit-Picking for, well - you all, and help my British characters stay British.

I am eternally grateful!