A/N: I'm back!!! Surgery went well, but recovery took a little longer than anticipated. I dealt with migraines for over two weeks. But I'm back and posting. I might post an extra chapter occasionally to make up for my extended absence.

Chapter 9

Dr. Daniel Jackson was pissed. Correction, he was fucking pissed. At the Kisqua, obviously. At Dr. Brightman, most recently. But also at himself. He had been the one who'd insisted they should trust the Kisqua, which is why Sam had approached Jack about visiting P2X-014. If Daniel had only dug a little bit deeper into Kisqua culture before making a snap decision, he's positive he would have discovered how utterly and morally corrupt they were.

Crumpling up his latest useless translation of the temple text he'd taken pictures of while on the planet, he tossed it violently into the trash can. While he'd been off gallivanting through ancient ruins, his teammates–two of his closest friends–had been violated in a way he could only imagine. Sure, his own past experience with Hathor hadn't exactly been consensual, but at the time, he'd been brainwashed and fully onboard.

By their own accounts, both Sam and Jack had been far from willing participants. No, it wasn't the same at all.

Daniel scrunched up his face as the night before crossed his mind. He'd never seen Jack that way before. Even during their first time through the Stargate to Abydos, he'd been virtually emotionless. But then, Jack hadn't been upset about what happened to him, Daniel realized, he'd been consumed with grief and anger over what had happened to Sam.

Daniel crumpled up another piece of paper and threw it at the trash, watching it fall short. With a growl, he strode across the room and kicked the metal can with enough force that it ricocheted off the wall, falling in a dented mass on the floor.

"Are you alright, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked, rushing into his lab.

"Not even close," Daniel seethed, working to calm his temper. Losing it now would only serve to waste valuable time. He needed to figure a way out of this situation; it was the least he could do.

"I, too, am struggling with the events that took place on P2X-014," Teal'c admitted.

"How did we not know what was happening, Teal'c?" Daniel looked at him with pain-filled eyes.

"We were purposefully deceived," he responded with quiet anger.

"Ugh!" Daniel balled his hands into fists. He should have known or at least suspected. The Kisqua had known exactly what carrot to dangle in front of his nose to distract him while they'd hurt his friends. Was he so dedicated to his profession–his volition–that he allowed them to take advantage of his thirst for knowledge? After eight years, was he still so gullible? He mentally shook himself. There would be more than enough time for berating himself if they managed to get through this…entire situation.

"General Hammond and O'Neill have sent word to the Asgard and the Tok'ra that we are in need of assistance," Teal'c said after a quiet moment. "However, I fear their assistance may not be enough."

"Me, too," Daniel sighed, forcing himself to relax once again.

"Colonel Carter was quite impressed with their technology," Teal'c stated grimly. "She determined it was similar to early Ancient design and noted that it seemed to predate everything we had previously discovered. If she was correct, then the Kisqua will be a formidable foe."

"Yah," Daniel cringed. Formidable indeed.

Daniel paused as a thought tickled his brain. "Teal'c," he started flipping through his photographs of the temple, "you said their technology was similar to early Ancient design?"

"Indeed."

Daniel frowned. There was something that had been nagging him ever since he'd visited the ancient ruins on the planet. Ancient ruins. Ancient. Shit. "Hand me that recorder," he pointed to the video camera he'd used to document the area.

So far, he'd been focusing on the pictures he took of the temple the Kisqua currently used, hoping to better understand their culture and religious beliefs; however, translating it was proving to be extremely difficult. It was familiar to him for some reason, yet his translations didn't make any sense. But he remembered noticing writing on a stone structure as he'd taken the video. That was right before he and Teal'c had realized something was terribly wrong and he'd put it out of his mind.

Inserting the cable attached to the television, he pressed play and fast-forwarded until the remnants of an ancient structure came into view. "There!" he pointed to the spot on the screen. "Right there. It was staring me in the face the entire time and I missed it," he told Teal'c.

"To what do you refer?" Teal'c leaned closer to the screen, not yet seeing anything significant.

"Right there," he gestured to the relatively smooth structure standing in the middle of a large field. "Here, let me zoom in," he made a few adjustments and brought the structure into better view.

"That appears to be a temple of the Ancients," Teal'c said.

"Yes it does," Daniel said with a frown, "but it isn't. Not exactly. See this writing here?" He pointed to the large stone tablets mounted near the entertainment. "This appears to be a different dialect."

"I was unaware the Ancients had different dialects," Teal'c frowned.

"That's the thing, they don't," Daniel said, quickly copying the symbols onto a piece of paper. "Or at least we've never run across one before. I need to translate this," he looked up at Teal'c who bowed his head and left Daniel to work.

Hammond took one look at Jack and Sam, who sat across from him and let out a rare curse. Richard Woolsey, lead representative of the International Oversight Advisory, or the f'ing IOA as Jack often called them, arrived a few hours after the Kisqua transmission with several associates in tow.

Jack had just finished informing Hammond of their decision to proceed with Sam's pregnancy, and while George was supportive of their decision, the attention of the IOA had just made this situation go from bad to worse.

"General Hammond," Woolsey nodded as he walked into the office without knocking. "General O'Neill," he said with barely contained ire, and finally, "Colonel Carter." Richard had been pulled away from his family to deal with the latest SGC crisis and he wasn't happy. They'd gone and done it this time. Two officers assaulted, one presumably pregnant, and a hostile race of aliens threatening to destroy Earth. Again. And that was only what he'd gleaned from the hastily written report he'd received after a panicked call from the new Vice President.

"Mr. Woolsey," Hammond acknowledged him, his dislike for Richard obvious. "We weren't expecting an IOA representative."

"Yes, well," Woolsey bristled at the implication that he was not welcome, "the Vice President asked for my advice and after reviewing the situation, the IOA has decided our presence is required."

"Oh, really," Jack stood to his full height and glowered at the man. "You reviewed the entire situation in the last," he checked his watch, "two hours and think you can solve all our problems."

The IOA were a bunch of civilian pansies, in Jack's estimation, who had no clue how military operations were conducted in the real world. In theory, they were supposedly the organization responsible for the international oversight of the Stargate Program once it had been revealed to the leaders of Earth's most influential nations. A compromise of sorts, in which the IOA believed they had the right to issue orders to be blindly followed without understanding the intricacies of what was happening on the ground. In reality, they were a pain in the ass, an ethically corrupt group with dubious morals.

"Yes, well," Woolsey said again, "we have a team of people always working to fix the crises you create. This one, despite its obviously delicate nature, is no exception," He said looking pointedly at Sam.

"I have our people working on it, as well," Hammond rushed to say as Jack took a menacing step toward the shrewd little man. Hammond knew Jack was operating on a hair trigger, but he needed him to stand down until they knew what the IOA wanted. "Why don't we call a meeting and go over all the information at once."

"Certainly, General," Woolsey nodded placatingly but his eyes once again cut to Sam in a way that made her stomach sink. She didn't know what the IOA wanted, but she had a bad feeling she wasn't going to like it.