Stargate: Immortal

by Seraphin2011

Book III: The Ori gone, Aschen imprisoned, Wraith changed and pacified, yet the Alliance is threatened once more. The Vargas are coming and no one knows how they are going to survive an enemy that spans throughout the known universe and had done so for billions of years. By closing the anomalies, they have postponed the invasion by more than two years, but will that be enough?

23. Nothing But Time - Part 2

Author's note: Okay, here's the problem. It should have been a much shorter chapter, but somehow it turned close to 25k worth of reading material. My beta rightfully suggested I should split it into at the very least two chapters. However, I'm not going to do that. The reason is that I think it would leave the reader with a bad taste after the first chapter, left with a massive cliffhanger after nothing more than a detailed interlude. It somehow doesn't sit well with me. I hate cliffhangers. I might have split it in two and post both chapters right away, but I don't see the logic in doing that. People might miss and start reading the second part right away.

So! The whole 25 thousand words are here. Be ready, take some snacks, go to the bathroom if you have to, and if it's still too long, well, you can always leave some for later. The chapter is also concluding Jack's trips to the past. I tried to make the chapter as informative as possible, but some of the plots are still in the earlier book, in 'Chapter 35 - Nothing but time' when Jack's time-traveling adventures began. Just as a reminder for those who wish to refresh their memories. After all, It had been years.

Thanks to my beta, and I hope you'll enjoy more of Jack's adventures.

---

…far, far into the future

"How did you persuade me?" Jack said in an angry tone. "I can distinctively recall being against it. I even had a few good arguments why I should stay on Earth, like clean up the piled-up paperwork."

He knew his arguments were weak the moment he mentioned paperwork, but he couldn't help it. His reluctance to take part in the upcoming conference was that strong.

"There was a time when Hammond sending us to other planets made you all giddy. Why are you now so reluctant?" Daniel asked.

Around a table inside the Enterprise's lounge bar, two men and one woman were having a heated discussion. It had already lasted for hours, with sporadic breaks spent collecting fresh ideas before beginning anew. The long trip bored him, and he wanted to share his misery with the rest.

"Daniel, why do you keep engaging? You know he won't stop nagging until he's back on Earth," Sam said, tiredly. "Besides, we are about to arrive. No matter how much he whines, he's stuck with us."

"I know, I know. I just can't understand his reluctance. We are going to a world we've never been to before. Aren't you excited just a little?" Daniel asked him.

"Daniel, I wouldn't mind visiting an unexplored world. I might even appreciate sightseeing some ruins. I wouldn't even find it too exhausting. But here, we're going to a conference, Daniel," he explained.

He understood the need to meet races from the other galaxies inside the Local Group. Clear evidence showed the Scourge were coming. They learned about them when they first met the Aklarians. They had informed Weir of a great threat, of a nomadic race that traveled through hyperspace inside massive asteroids, hopping from one galaxy to another. Once they reached a new galaxy, they would devour any living being they'd stumble upon.

It was their way of evolving by adding the traits of those they ate into their own.

However, even decades later, they knew little about them. The Scourge's current whereabouts and threat level they posed were unknown. They traveled slowly through a lower hyper-band between galaxies, making it tough to detect. Different groups of the Scourge were at different technological levels and fleet sizes. The genetic makeup of those approaching the Local Group was also unknown. Finding one group would give them no insight into the strength of another. It was why they needed to put boots in all the galaxies in the Local Group.

He understood the need to form a relationship with the local races, even those that showed xenophobic tendencies. They tend to turn belligerent when you least expect them. Thus, it was better to meet them sooner and solve any disagreement before it became an issue.

Even though Daniel explained it a gazillion times, he still couldn't understand one aspect of it. Why was he forced to tag along?

"It's an important conference, Jack," Daniel replied.

"Yes, you've already said that—repeatedly, I might add—but that's even more reason to let me stay home," he said.

"That's not true. Why would you think that?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, playing ignorant, Daniel? You always told me something I must do whenever we go to a conference. Do you remember what that something was?" he asked. Everyone in the room knew the answer.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," Daniel replied.

"Come on! It's not something you said once or twice. It happened at least as many times as the number of conferences you forced me to attend. Sometimes you'd mention it even more than once to make sure I'd remember," he said. He noticed Daniel wasn't about to reply, so he turned towards Sam. "You know what I'm talking about, right? You were there on several occasions."

"Jack, you shouldn't take it to heart," Sam said.

"How shouldn't I. He suggested I shouldn't speak!" he said, looking first at Daniel and then at Sam. "He didn't even say that I shouldn't talk too much. He straight out said I shouldn't talk at all!"

"Well, it can't be helped, right? When you do, things often turn awkward. Well, maybe not always, but sometimes," Daniel said.

"You don't have to sugarcoat it. I agree with you. I always say a joke or two to lighten the mood, yet people often misinterpret. Then the atmosphere turns awkward. Also, I'm not against your suggestion. The issue I'm having is you not leaving me behind. We would both get what we want if you let me stay home," he concluded. His reasoning was sound. Someone could even argue he was applying impeccable logic.

So why was he still dragged along?

"You are the High Councilor, the leader of the Terran Federation. We need you to make appearances. Also, Jack, it's not a tragedy if you must attend once or twice a year," Daniel explained, his voice showing tiredness.

"I told you repeatedly, Daniel. You can take my job whenever you want; I won't mind. Or rather, please, I implore you, take this damn job away from me!" Jack explained. He'd been the High Councilor for far too long.

"I don't want to," Daniel responded. "It's a crappy job with no benefits."

"Rodney's interested, you know," he said, smiling. It was a devil's smile.

"Please stop threatening people with that. Our Council and Parliament will never place Rodney in the big chair. No one's that far gone!" Sam said.

"Are you sure? They keep putting me in it," he explained. Once again, he was displaying impeccable reasoning. No way people were in their right minds when they were putting him back in charge of each mandate.

"You got me there," Sam said. "Still, you are you, and Rodney is Rodney."

"If I put my mind to it, not Rodney, but I might put Felger in the big chair!" Jack said.

"That would be the day," Daniel said. "I can't imagine having to drag Felger on conferences. Instead of telling him to keep quiet, I would have to warn him not to smile."

"And speak," Sam added hastily.

The ship exited hyperspace. Looking through the window, Jack saw a green planet and two moons floating amid the blackness of space. Their destination was finally in sight. The planet was different from Earth, which confirmed how far from his beloved home he was. He would be stuck on the planet for the duration of the conference.

"We are finally here," Jack said.

"That we are," Daniel said.

"What do you know about this planet?" Jack asked.

The planet was slightly larger than Earth. That could mean a higher gravity present on the surface.

"It's a swamp, with slightly higher gravity and air pressure. It's also warmer than on Earth. It has extensive wildlife and dense vegetation, but with no sentient life," Daniel explained.

"A swamp? Why was a swampy, uninhabited planet chosen?" he asked.

"Two reasons. Several races were bickering on whose planet would host the conference, and the planet holds historical significance. An advanced race once lived here," Daniel explained.

"From what I've read, there's nothing left on the planet to confirm that. Yet many races mentioned it. An ancient race that protected them lived here," Sam added.

"Yes, and one day they vanished, leaving no trace. It's a bizarre story, I know. However, it would be stranger if there was no truth to it. Especially when so many races are asserting it," Daniel added.

They were going on a tangent. He just wanted little information about the planet, primarily to understand how comfortable it would be to spend time on it.

"I'm more interested in our accommodations than the planet's history. We won't have to camp outside, right?" he asked, dreading the answer. With aliens, one never knew.

"No, Jack. They built separate facilities for all the races. An entire complex was made just for us," Daniel said.

"That's good to hear. Coming to a conference where I need to keep quiet the whole time, that's bearable. But only if the lodgings and the food are top-notch," he said.

"Let's get moving. We are about to dock," Sam said.

Good thing they didn't use the same system as the Terrans. Most inhabited systems in the Milky Way had the Nox's interdiction device preventing travel at FTL speeds. Here, instead, they exited hyperspace in front of the planet.

"Aren't we beaming down?" Jack asked.

"Teleportation is prohibited. There's a jamming field supposedly preventing it," Sam asked.

"Supposedly?" Jack asked.

"Well, if we tried, I'm confident we could break through their jamming. But we won't do that. It's best if our host doesn't know what we can do. Let them live in ignorance," Sam said.

"I would prefer beaming inside my room, though," Jack added.

"Don't make that face, Jack. It's not the end of the world if we must take a shuttle. It's also a good thing they are blocking teleportation. It increases security, which is especially important during such an event," Daniel explained.

"Sure. But, tell me again. Why is this conference so important?" he asked.

"At 4.4 million light-years from Earth, the Sextans A is the farthest galaxy in our Local Group. It makes it the perfect spot to place a supergate, jump station, and build a base of operation on a planet. That's the main reason, but not the only one. Although barren, this galaxy has many advanced races. Also, none are human, which gives us a plethora of learning materials from xeno-biology and xeno-psychology. And it has mineral deposits rare in our galaxy," Sam explained.

"All right, all right, I get it. The place is fascinating, so we want to intrude. Politely, of course. It means we must befriend the locals," he said.

"Exactly," Daniel said. "This conference is important."

Exiting the room, they went down the corridor until reaching the elevator. Entering inside and setting their destination took only a moment. The teleportation booth took them in front of the hangar bay. It was where the ship and station were connected.

"You're right, Daniel. I should start enjoying the scenery and the food. I should think of it as a vacation spent away from Walter Junior," Jack asked. He was pushing himself, trying to put a positive spin on the forced trip. The jury was still out if he was successful.

"That's the spirit! You should have that attitude more often," Sam said.

"Are you saying I'm a grumpy old man?" he asked.

"Don't take it the wrong way, but you usually look at the negatives before the positives," Sam said. "You start seeing the good only after grumbling for at least a few hours."

"How could I possibly take it wrongly?" he retorted.

"You know what I mean!" Sam said, but she didn't seem sure she could get herself out of this.

"He's messing with you, Sam. Don't engage, or else, we might go back to the same exhausting discussion we had during most of the trip," Daniel interjected. "Let's get off the ship and maybe enjoy sightseeing."

They rightly put the debate on hold. The three went through the docking corridor that extended from the ship to the station. Boarding the alien station did not make them feel any change. The temperature was comfortable, the same as the humidity and air composition. Jack saw the corridors were devoid of any aliens. Maybe the space station had separate sections, each tailored to suit the guests' distinct physiology. From the files of the various races taking part in the conference, he knew some were so different from humans that similar accommodations would be inadequate. For example, even their host wouldn't enjoy the same temperature as humans.

"How are the races to get all together at tonight's shindig. I mean, some have peculiar needs," he asked.

"Most races breathe a similar air mixture as humans; the same goes for temperature. But there are a few with different needs. For them, the host has prepared various devices. And for those who can't even be in the same room, they will attend in holographic form or from adjacent rooms," Daniel explained.

"It will still be warmer than what we'd like. Think of a room without air conditioning during summer," Sam added.

"And the air is slightly richer in oxygen. Around twenty-five percent," Daniel gave more information.

"So, sticky hot, but we'll also feel euphoric due to the higher oxygen level," Jack said.

"Probably," Daniel replied.

Getting lost was impossible. The floor and walls had glowing arrows showing the right path. By following them, they reached another hangar. Inside, he saw a lonely dropship.

"They aren't all that great on the welcoming side. Not even one person to greet us," he commented.

"Don't you think it's better this way?" Sam asked.

"Why would rudeness be preferred?" Jack asked.

"Think about it. If people waited for us, we would have to exchange pleasantries, spend time getting to know each other, and might even need to chat with them during the trip to the surface," Sam said.

"All right, I get it. Nobody is bothering us. It might sit well with me, but it's still strange, don't you think?" Jack asked.

"I think you're right, but from what I've read about our host, about the race that built everything on the surface, they are extremely focused on efficiency. When it comes to scheduling the perfect itinerary, it's as if these aliens suffer from OCD," Daniel added.

They placed no distractions on the station—nothing worthy to look at—just walls and those arrows guiding them.

After boarding the ship, they took the closest three seats. At once, the ship's door closed. Powering up, the ship raised and ventured into space.

He liked watching through the window while a ship entered the atmosphere. Even though it had been decades since he became the Terran High Councilor, he was still a pilot at heart. Well, he shouldn't complain. He had many chances to fly several vessels, varying from fighters to miles-long capital ships. He was sure he would have more opportunities to fly newly designed crafts. He was annoyed he still didn't get to fly Atlantis, but it wasn't a big deal. Flying smaller craft was more thrilling than flying capital ships.

Among his favorites were the corvette and the Defiant, particularly when he used the full-immersion system on the latter.

While he contemplated over inconsequential matters, the dropship reached the surface. It landed safely in front of a large building. It should be a structure made exclusively for humans. He didn't know why they built such an enormous building for the three of them, but he wasn't going to complain. It would be too much nagging on his part, and Sam or Daniel would scold him.

"Okay, let's get out," Sam said.

Exiting the ship, they found themselves under the scorching afternoon sun. It was a worm day, a little too moist for his taste, and with stronger gravity than Earth's. Not that it bothered him that much. He had visited Haven many times. He sometimes spent months training with the Marines without using any antigravity aid. In comparison, walking on this planet was a breeze. "Okay, it's not that bad."

"See, you just need to have a positive outlook, and everything feels better," Sam said.

"Sure, but I still need to test the food. Only then can I give a proper evaluation," he added.

"I bet you have so much food inside that bracelet that you could eat your favorite dishes for a month," Daniel added.

"I might have stashed a few sausages. I don't see anything wrong with that. I'll be rating the cuisine and give a strict review, regardless of what's inside my bracelet," he added.

Being prepared for all eventualities didn't excuse the host from making bad food and getting away with it. If he had to reach for his secret stash of delicacies, it meant the host supplied an unacceptable level of service.

As they walked, doors automatically opened and closed. Once again, they chased after glowing arrows, forcing them to take an elevator to the second floor. Soon, the arrows split in three directions, each with one of their names written above it.

"We are splitting up," he said.

"I think I'm going to lie down," Sam said.

"I have to go through a few documents first," Daniel added.

"Some rest it is then. The conference isn't until tomorrow, but tonight we have a party we must attend. A few hours of shuteye will do us some good. When is the party starting?" he asked while looking at Daniel.

"In seven hours, but we must be ready to move in six," Daniel added. He knew the entire itinerary.

"Why don't you come to my room in five hours?" he said.

"Okay," Sam said.

"Sure," Daniel said.

After nodding, they each followed their arrow. He wasn't tired, but he refused to go strolling outside after seeing the planet. Daniel and Sam didn't seem eager either.

The party would probably be exhausting. Rest would do him some good.

---

…far, far into the past

"Who are you?" the man wearing a red coat shouted.

To think that he'd hoped to have a few hours of unadulterated fun after finishing talking to Sam.

It all began when he noticed the new corvette the military had refurbished. It had an impressive design. Quickly, he began dreaming of owning one, something he at once voiced to the Council. He didn't think it would result in anything more than a hard laugh coming from many members.

Sam and Daniel were the first to come to mind.

Surprisingly, the discussion went in the opposite direction. He couldn't remember who said it would be suitable for the High Councilor to have a lifeboat. Still, that person was the initiator of a positive debate. They eventually agreed that having a small ship he could use in an emergency aboard the Enterprise wasn't the dumbest idea. He didn't travel often, but sometimes his work forced him to take the Enterprise to other planets where he would have to participate in tedious conferences.

Furthermore, the Enterprise was an older model. The new Enterprise, the one Amy Donovan commanded, served as Admiral of the Fleet Jack O'Neill's flagship in the distant IC1001 galaxy. Hence, the old Enterprise primarily spent its time marooned somewhere inside the Solar system, waiting for the day he would need it.

The Council made the decision. The High Councilor would receive a refurbished version of the already revamped military corvette. They gave several engineers carte blanche to do whatever they want with it. The top brass gave them free rein, with no spending limit. A dream come true for any hardcore engineer. Jack saw the engineers were happier than he would ever be.

The elite corvette that every member of the Council would one day own was coming along. Occasionally, he watched the engineers make decisions on what kind of ship it would become. It was astonishing what engineers could achieve when money and time weren't an issue.

A twin Naquadria reactor and a custom-made medium ZPM gave the ship all the raw power it could handle; a state-of-the-art defensive system made up of a Neutronium-Carbon-Naquadah alloy, a material strengthening field capable of increasing the hull's toughness 14.6 times, and the latest generation shield powered by a double generator capable of alternating the energy field whenever needed or otherwise use them jointly. An improved version of the twin frontal plasma cannon, giving it an added 60% punch; an omnidirectional plasma lance cannon on the top; and a large reserve of the newest Mark III drones.

A trans-dimensional storage system capable of holding enough equipment to last him several years and a fast hyperdrive capable of outrunning any except the fastest Terran ships. Those were the two systems most responsible for ensuring the long-term survivability of the lifeboat's occupant. A cloaking system that could even fool the Vargas, maneuverability guaranteeing superiority during most dogfights, the ability to mentally control the ship, and a powerful matter synthesizer would give him absolute comfort and safety even during long trips.

The ship even had a nicer paint job than the original.

No wonder he itched to take it for a spin. He woke up today with the only thought of flying it. He would have visited Mars that was close to Earth this time of the year.

It would have been a fun ride.

Instead, the universe wouldn't allow it. The moment he thought about saying goodbye to Sam, thoroughly fed up with talks about Felger, it all went to hell. The very instant he imagined the corvette that waited for him in the hangar, he was whisked away to a place he couldn't recognize.

This was turning into one of those days.

"Hey! Are you listening?" the other man shouted.

"I am. It's just that I'm too depressed to answer," Jack said to the two redcoats.

"Depressed?" one of them asked, not understanding what he meant.

"It doesn't matter. Can I ask you a question?" he asked. The two soldiers kept their muskets trained. He hoped they wouldn't shoot an unarmed man. "What date is it?"

It took a while before the answer came. "June 16."

"Okay, that's progress. And the year?" Jack asked.

"1775."

"Why are you answering his stupid questions?" the other redcoat asked angrily. He turned back to face him. "Answer my question! Who are you?"

The man pointed his muzzle straight at his heart. If he didn't answer, the man might pull the trigger.

"No need to get angry. I'm Jonathan O'Neill. We are good now, right?" he said. He knew the name Jack wasn't popular in the 18th century. That's why he gave his real name.

"No, that doesn't tell me anything. And what's with your clothes?" the other one asked.

The situation was turning problematic. He knew when he was and who the men in front of him were. With how things were, they would take him into custody and later interrogate him. He didn't like it. Whatever he carried would cause an uproar the moment his captors inspected them. He needed to force these two to let him go. But how could he do that?

Inspiration came like a bolt. He made a Jedi motion. "Sleep."

"What are you—"

It was all one managed to say before closing his eyes. Both men fell.

"Wow! This is great!" he said. He wasn't sure it would work.

Ever since he discovered he could heal people, he started using the Repository of Knowledge to train. But no matter how much he asked around, no one was willing to serve as a guinea pig. It was frustrating. He thought he had learned a few good tricks but couldn't be confident in his progress without performing any live tests.

Thankfully, it worked. He was able to apply telepathic pressure strong enough to induce sleep. "This trick is amazing!"

It was time to think about more urgent matters. He knew when and the who. The thing he now needed to find out was the where. But more importantly, he needed to change his clothes first. Thankfully, Sam and Daniel forced him to fill his bracelet with clothes from different periods. He should have adequate outfits to put on. He should go with the inconspicuous kind, the type that the average joe wore.

He went to work, and in mere minutes he changed his pants, shirt, and boots. Now he could pass as a person from the 18th century.

He took the scenery around him. From uphill, he could see the Boston Harbor.

"Oh boy. I so don't like the place and date," he said.

No matter how he felt, now wasn't the time to linger. If two redcoats patrolled the area, more might appear.

He went in the harbor's opposite direction. It wasn't like he knew where to go. He might meet militias as little interested in his circumstances as the redcoats had been. The harbor was off-limits, so the opposite direction was what he chose.

Something else bothered him. Why was he here? Every time he traveled back in time, he immediately found the cause for the ripple in time. Often, he was late to save whomever the Shrike or its cult targeted. However, at least he'd know where to start looking.

"Something caused the ripple, but—" he began saying but stopped abruptly. "Speaking of the devil."

His bracelet detected a particular energy signature—one that shouldn't exist.

"The presence of an anti-entropic field means the Shrike has appeared," he mumbled to himself.

With the bracelet's built-in feature, he quickly learned the direction and distance to the energy signature. It was a couple of miles northwest. "It should be west of Charlestown."

He did visit Boston a few times. That was helping him get his bearings. Still, what he remembered and what he saw here in the Boston of 1775 was different. There were more trees here.

Slowly, a metallic layer covered his body. While cloaked, he ran at great speed, miles quickly fading in minutes. He hoped to find the Shrike alone; it would make things easier.

There he stood. The monster he had chased for countless years only to see it vanish. He needed to finish it, once and for all. Redoubling his efforts, he ran faster while turning his right hand into a sword. A purple glimmer appeared on the blade. As long as the anti-entropic field persisted, he wouldn't be able to kill the Shrike. Killing it meant destroying the field first. The purple energy oozing around the sword was a quantum disruption field designed to eradicate the anti-entropic field.

At least, that was what Sam told him. Since no one knew how to make an anti-entropic field, it was all guesswork until he tried.

While charging at full speed, he slashed at the beast.

The Shrike wasn't an opponent easily ambushed. He didn't know how, but it always knew when he attacked it. But at such a speed, the beast didn't have time to evade. It only used its spiky arm to block the blow.

The result was a cut that nearly severed the Shrike's right arm. But it wasn't enough. He saw the anti-entropic field weakening, but it didn't vanish. As a result, the cut slowly disappeared as if time was reversing. Sam had programmed the bracelet to improve the quantum disruption field after collecting valuable data. Hopefully, the more he slashed at it, the stronger the weapon would become.

"Couldn't she have made a gun instead?" Jack grumbled.

Sam explained it wasn't easy to make a quantum disruption weapon of that size. They were making them for their ships in their fight against the Vargas. Handheld weapons were too small to hold the intricate circuits. The best she could do was make the bracelet capable of enveloping the blade with the disruptive field.

"Kill… must… change," Jack heard the Shrike's thoughts.

"Disturbing as always," he said before striking again.

The telepathic signal didn't influence him as much as last time. The telepathic waves were the same, but he was better at guarding his mind. He learned a few things in these past few years.

He jumped at the Shrike. His second blow cut the beast's chest, creating a large gash. However, he shouldn't underestimate the Shrike. Before he could retreat, the monster swatted him away with his undamaged arm. The blow was substantial. It sent him flying back a good five meters. But Jack, too, had learned from his past mistakes. Just before the impact, he strengthened the armor where the blow landed.

This time, he didn't end half-gutted like last time. The armor protected him. In mere moments, it liquified and returned to its undamaged form.

With the increase in distance, he decided to take out a long-range weapon from his trans-dimensional storage. The gun appeared out of thin air. He grabbed it with his free hand. He could access the gun mentally. He instructed it to charge even before he could point it.

The Shrike didn't stay idle. It moved towards him like an unstoppable train. But due to their distance, it was simple to keep it at bay while the weapon charged. At a perfect moment, he pointed the large gun and fired. A powerful plasma bolt erupted, hitting the rushing Shrike in full. It didn't kill it or made it evaporate. The Shrike just staggered with a gushing wound on its abdomen's right side. It was at least enough to give Jack another chance with the blade. Rushing at it, Jack went for a stabbing towards the painful-looking wound.

The blade went through, making the beast shriek.

However, the response wasn't just the scream. It bashed Jack in the head with overwhelming force. Sometimes, he forgot he dealt with a monster who wouldn't react like a human. Conversely, he was a human, and when they get hit in the head as he did, they would stagger, would feel disoriented, and might even fall unconscious.

He could sense the blood trickling down the side of his face. The blow with the rotating spikes on the shrike's armor had penetrated his armor.

Distancing himself from the Shrike, he made no more than a few steps before falling. He had trouble thinking, and his sight was blurry. Frankly, the only thing he wanted to do right now was sleep.

Another telepathic wave assaulted him. "Find… target."

The Shrike left. He wasn't its target. The Shrike only killed those on its list, and Jack saw a vivid image of who the next victim was. A man whose face he knew.

"Oh, this sucks," he said before falling unconscious.

---

… far, far into the future

Five hours later, Sam and Daniel came. Without waiting until the last minute, they boarded the dropship and went to a different place. Their destination was a large complex, with many landing pads meant for the dignitaries to use as landing places.

They were not the first to arrive. Ships already occupied a few landing pads. However, many were still empty, suggesting they weren't last either. After exiting the craft, they followed arrows on the ground to a building. These glowing pointers might soon start getting on his nerves.

Passing through several corridors, they entered a large hall. He noticed the glass roof first, giving him a chance to see both moons. It was a vast hall, with the side walls made of a transparent material. He thought the likelihood of it being glass was negligent. Through them, he could see smaller chambers, each different. Inside a few, aliens vastly different from humans roamed freely. He realized those were rooms dignitaries who could not breathe the same air as they would use. One of the chambers had two aliens swimming in clear water. Another filled with yellowish fog had a pair of floating aliens. A third was entirely red from the heat but had no one inside. Still, the true spectacle was in the central hall where fifty people mingled. Some talked with dignitaries of other races, while others kept among their kind.

"Should we join?" Jack asked, a little reluctant to follow his suggestion.

"Not yet. It should still take time before all dignitaries are here. We can start socializing after," Daniel said.

That was also fine. He had no wish to talk to anyone. Besides, Daniel repeatedly told him to keep his mouth shut, which meant staying silent whenever talking to new races.

He grabbed a glass from a tray a robot carried. He urged Daniel and Sam to help themselves. Who knew when the swift Artoo-Deetoo would be near again?

He used his keen nose to check the beverage if it was a liquid a human could drink without dropping on the floor and rolling in agony due to extreme poisoning. Satisfied, he took a light sip. It was champagne, and it tasted great. It wasn't any cheap stuff either.

Looking around, he quickly realized there was nothing of interest to see. This might turn into an exceedingly long and dreary night. If nothing changed, he would have to endure a lot tonight. As if he didn't have enough bad memories clogging his mind.

"Daniel, I must ask," Jack said.

"Ask what?" Daniel asked.

"Do you like this type of shindigs?" Jack said. He turned to Sam, showing that she should also answer.

Sam was first. "Not one bit. I can stand it for the first ten minutes or the first few people I meet, whichever comes first. But after that, it becomes tedious. Frankly, I feel it's a big waste of my time," Sam said.

"Don't say that, Sam," Daniel added.

"What? It's true. The real meeting is tomorrow. This party is so that we won't be strangers tomorrow. I don't find chatting with strangers particularly entertaining. I'm sure that I have little in common with these people," Sam said.

"Thank you, Carter," Jack said. "You know, I thought it was just me and that everyone else couldn't wait to spend time meeting new aliens. Also, Daniel, even though you didn't like Carter's answer, you still haven't given yours."

"I don't mind them," Daniel replied promptly.

"That's quite the diplomatic response. You didn't say that you like or hate them," Jack said. "In my book, that means you're fed up almost as much as we are, but you're pushing yourself because you have no choice."

Daniel took a moment before answering. "It's not like that. In truth, it varies from party to party. At times, I meet great people, and talking to them is intriguing. But there are times when they are dry, boring, snobbish, pretentious, or like chatting about topics I don't," Daniel answered.

"And what about this party?" Jack asked. "Will you find common topics with this crowd?"

"Probably not. When it comes to parties filled with so many different races, the most I can hope for is to find aliens willing to talk about our different cultures. Comparing notes makes the evening interesting," Daniel said.

"Then why not with these people?" Sam asked.

"That's because we are meeting them for the first time, and the chances are they won't open up that soon. Or even worse, sometimes they start sharing about their culture, history, and goals, but turn arrogant and judgmental when you describe yours," Daniel said. "I hate when that happens."

"So, your take is that it will be boring," Jack concluded.

"Probably. I mean, I don't know these people. The chances of having a profound discussion with any of them are minimal," Daniel said. "But that doesn't matter. We still must exchange pleasantries, and that's because we have the greatest responsibility here."

"Shouldn't the host have the greatest responsibility?" Jack asked.

Daniel was shaking his head. "Not even close."

"Care to elaborate?" he asked, even though he had a vague idea.

"Most dignitaries here know who we are. We stand for the Terran Federation. Without any Nox, Asgard, or Ancient here, we also stand for the Second Great Alliance. We must appear friendly and cooperative even though not the host," Daniel explained.

The Terrans had a significant burden placed on their shoulders. Races would think of them as outsiders and would be fearful of their power. Furthermore, the natives could easily interpret what the Terrans demanded as a preamble to an invasion. They wanted to place a supergate, many jump stations, and a base of operation in their galaxy—a blatant act of intrusion in their territory.

Many of the races here might not mind. Some might even wish for a member of the Second Great Alliance to settle here. But others might hate it because their incursion diminishes their influence over the galaxy. Or they might want to test the waters. See if the Terrans were benevolent as they claimed, ready to leave if asked, or they would intrude regardless of their wishes.

It was a delicate matter. If they kept to one corner of the room, it could negatively affect tomorrow's talks. He knew how important it was to win these races over. The Scourge was coming. Thus, placing monitoring equipment at the edge of the outer galaxies in the Local Group was paramount. It would give the Terrans forewarning of what they were up against. They could fight them off while still at the outer edge of the Local Group.

It would make the largest galaxies, like the Milky Way, Andromeda, Triangulum, and Pegasus, much safer.

The Scourge was a difficult nut to crack. They did not know their numbers or their technology level since it varied from colony to colony. In one galaxy the Terrans visited, the Scourge had been an easy opponent to the local races. Even though barely at level 7 on their scale, those races defeated the Scourge infestation. Judging by that encounter, the Terrans should have an easy task dealing with the Scourge.

However, in another galaxy, the Scourge's passing left desolation in their wake. The Terrans could find no life on the worlds the Scourge visited. That suggested a high technological level and strength to depopulate countless worlds inside a mere century. The Second Great Alliance wouldn't have the numbers to invade tens of billions of stars in such a brief period. It indicated an uncontrollable population growth and technology high enough to allow them to spread quickly.

That could make them an incredibly hard enemy to beat.

It was why they wanted to place monitoring equipment in the Sextans A and other galaxies. It was the furthest galaxy in the Local Group and the first they thought the Scourge would stumble upon. But how could they explain that to the locals? The locals would only hear that the Terrans were giving them excuses for settling in their galaxy. If they also appeared unfriendly during talks, it was clear how the aliens would react.

"That sucks!" Jack said.

"That, it does," Daniel said. "It's the reason why three Terran council members had to come. We need to show them that we care and are not above sending people who stand at the very top to befriend them. You'll just have to endure it, Jack."

He was aware. He knew it from the beginning, but he had to spend the evening somehow, and discussing why they needed to be here was as good a topic as any. Besides, he liked to mess with Daniel.

More guests were trickling through the entrance at a constant rate. In a little over twenty minutes, the hall became filled with more than a hundred people. Some were still roaming around, while others took their designated seats. It would be a long night. The only hope for surviving was if today's food was excellent. He would have to wait and see. It would be at least another hour before he even got to taste the appetizers.

He wanted to ask Daniel about his experience regarding food during other official shindigs, but he sensed something. A strange feeling washed over him—one that he hadn't felt in an exceedingly long time. It was the feeling of apprehension.

"What the—" he began saying before abruptly turning. Where there was nothing, a person appeared. He felt their presence before seeing them.

Then, more began appearing, all in black. He hadn't seen action in many years, but the instincts were there. He began moving, but it was short-lived. That was because he saw two people standing behind Sam and Daniel, with guns pointed at their heads.

"Do not resist!" one of the hostiles ordered.

He complied. There was nothing he could do. He had so many weapons and gizmos in his bracelet, but none could help in such circumstances. He simply couldn't reach faster than the assailants could pull the trigger and blow Sam's or Daniel's head.

"I'm not resisting. So, let's keep it cool," Jack said, raising his hands in surrender.

No words or any reply came back. The person in black who spoke pointed his gun at him and fired.

Pain washed over him. The feeling wasn't the same as that of a zat's discharge or Wraith's stunner. It was something new, but the effects were similar. His legs gave out, his body falling. He felt tired, with his eyes threatening to close. He forced himself to stay awake, willing it with all his might. Two men in black grabbed him. Everything turned white for a moment, and he was elsewhere. He couldn't be sure—there wasn't time to look around carefully—but he thought he was on a ship. He was at his limits, his eyes slowly closing. The effect of the weapon was much stronger than a zat's.

He felt frustration rise. They had forced him to reach the planet's surface with a dropship because beaming was prohibited. Yet, these people teleported without any issue.

He would have to investigate it the first chance he got.

Darkness finally took over him.

---

…far, far into the past

How many times did he cross paths with the abomination? He couldn't remember. Worse even, the monster would beat the living crap out of him every time and then would leave. No matter what, he couldn't harm it, not once. The Shrike remained steadfast, ready to bash him into oblivion again.

And then, even before getting his shits together, it would disappear. It was always like that, and then the devil was gone. It was like a cosmic rule. After a single fight, the monster would jump further into the past. He would have no choice but to return to the present and wait for his next chance.

One as futile as the earlier one.

He knew the journey would take him centuries into the past—history had shown that—before he reached the first time the Shrike or its cult had appeared. He understood so little about time travel that it made it awfully confusing and often infuriating. The moment he appeared in the past, he would know if history mentioned the Shrike or its cult in an earlier text. A mission would barely start, yet he already knew he would fail and need to travel again.

If that wasn't hell, he didn't know what was.

However, Sam once said a phrase that stayed with him. She said: 'Don't overthink, and just go with the flow.'

Of the countless explanations given during the years, this one he remembered. He honestly thought it solved his predicament. Why spend brainpower on something he would never fully understand when he could go with the flow. For most of his career, he had done precisely that, and it had worked fine.

For the most part.

Jack opened his eyes. His head wasn't hurting anymore—a small blessing. He had suffered so many headaches during his long career that it wasn't even worth complaining anymore. His job had been an unbelievably bad one; he knew that when he'd signed up. But even now that he wasn't actively going on missions, he still couldn't catch a break.

He discovered that, ever since he'd turned into an Alterran, even a short nap was enough to recover. It made his life easier, with no more injuries staying for weeks.

There was no headache or any other pain anywhere. It was a good start.

Looking around, he found that he was inside a room. It was strange. He knew he didn't fall unconscious inside one—he would remember it. Someone brought him here, and the two burning questions now bouncing from one hemisphere to the other were: who did it, and why?

He checked if he was missing anything. The only thing of any consequence that was missing was the plasma gun he had used against the Shrike. A quick mental inquiry gave him the weapon's whereabouts. It was in a different room ten meters away and powered down. No one could use it without his explicit permission.

The armor would have remained around him if the bracelet had detected danger. The bracelet didn't have an AI built into it, but it reacted. It could understand the situation and act accordingly. It must have chosen that showing he was human would draw sympathy in people who found him. Better that than to cause panic after seeing a monster made of liquid metal if the armor stayed. At least, that was his theory on how he'd ended up in this house.

His shirt was all torn even though worn underneath the armor. Therefore, he could understand why someone removed it. However, taking his pants was strange. He would need to inquire about that. It was a lovely pair of pants, and he would like to have them back.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time. He needed to start moving. He needed to find people and ask questions. He needed information to complete the mission. He hadn't yet traveled back to the present, which meant the Shrike was still here. He might have another chance at confronting it if he could find it.

After getting out of bed, he willed new clothes to appear. The bracelet obediently answered with new pants and a shirt appearing. While swiftly putting them on, he used his bracelet's sensors to learn how many people there were in the house. He could detect two life signs on the ground floor.

"They even took my shoes?" Jack asked no one in particular.

He willed a new pair to appear. It was thanks to Sam's insistence he had a considerable redundancy with his footwear. He had stored more than twenty pairs.

With the shoes on, he was ready to begin exploring. Although, it wouldn't be much. The only people in the house were in the living room.

Exiting the room, he found stairways leading downstairs. Step by step, loud enough to warn them, he reached the ground floor. Around twenty years of age, a man and a woman stood motionless as he stepped inside. They didn't speak, no matter how much he waited.

He would have to be the one to open communications.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," the woman mimicked.

The man only nodded as a way of greeting.

"Were you who brought me here?" he asked.

"No, my brother did. He was on patrol when you were fighting," the woman said, but she was reluctant to explain further.

"Your brother saw me fighting?" he asked.

"He said you fought a demon," she replied, uncertain.

"Well, one could say it was a demon," he said.

"He said you lost," the woman said.

"I did," he admitted.

The front door opened, and a man came in. He was carrying a musket. He was a militia.

"Brother," the woman greeted the man.

Her brother did not reply to her. Instead, he faced him. "You're awake."

"Yeah, I woke up just a minute ago. Thanks for bringing me here," he said.

"It's the least I could do," the man said. "I am Thomas, and these are my younger sister, Ana, and her husband, Peter."

"Hello, I'm Johnathan," he said.

"Did you really fight a demon?" Peter interrupted. He seemed eager to hear more. From the look of it, he couldn't be more than eighteen.

Jack didn't know what to say. He didn't even know how superstitious these people were or what reaction he would get after explaining.

"I fought a monster. Don't know if 'demon' is the right name," he said. Indeed, the Shrike was demon-like.

"But Thomas said it was eight feet tall, with spikes all over its body, and that it was made of metal," Peter said, sounding worked up about it.

"That's right. If you want, you can think of it as a demon," he said, not knowing why that was so important. He faced Thomas. "Did you see where it went?"

"It went into the woods," Thomas said.

It wasn't the best explanation, but he thought he knew the direction. The closest woods were east. Not that it meant much since the Shrike could have changed direction afterward. But somehow, he thought the Shrike wouldn't care about any deception. "Did it go in the direction of Bunker Hill?"

"I believe so. Why?" Thomas asked.

"I just thought the hill was in the same direction as the woods," he lied.

"Do you believe the demon will go to Bunker Hill?" Thomas asked, alarmed.

Thomas seemed persistent, apprehensive even.

"Our people are there," Ana explained.

"Your people?" he asked.

"Yes, our people went there during the night," Thomas answered.

It all sounded familiar. Jack began sifting through his memories of what he'd learned since coming here. Then he started going through much older memories of what he'd learned in school or by watching the occasional documentary about the current period. Boston, Bunker Hill, he knew the date was June 16, 1775. No, that wasn't correct. One of the redcoats said it was June 16, but that happened yesterday.

Today was the 17th.

By knowing that and combining it with his historical knowledge, he knew who Ana's people were. They were the colonists who went to fortify Bunker Hill. Or rather, it had been Breed Hill, as Colonel William Prescott chose the wrong one. Right now, he didn't care which hill they were on. It wasn't as important as knowing the Shrike was converging on the place. Although, it was odd. If the Shrike had gone there, it should have reached Bunker Hill sooner.

If that were the case, he would find a horrible scene at Breed Hill. However, something was telling him the Shrike didn't go there directly.

By daybreak, the British should have become aware of the colonial forces, and they should be mounting an offensive. They would fail twice with considerable losses before taking the hill. That was what history recorded it happened on June 17, 1775.

However, that was history in which the Shrike didn't exist. Unfortunately, this would be a timeline in which the monster interfered to change the future. He felt conflicted about what he needed to do. He knew he had to, but just thinking about it made him feel uncomfortable.

The patriot in him protested loudly.

He did not know how or why, but during his fight with the Shrike, he telepathically received fragments of its goal, the very reason why it was here. He couldn't be sure—it's been many years since he last saw the picture of the man the Shrike wanted to kill—but if right, his next task would be to save William Howe.

He needed to save the 5th Viscount Howe, a renowned general in the British Army.

He would have to save the commanding officer that led the assault at Breed Hill against twelve hundred of his compatriots, members of the American Revolutionary Army. He didn't know what to feel. Chances were the three other people in the room would side with the demon and wish it killed Howe and many British soldiers.

Which meant he should keep quiet.

"I should go there in case it shows up. Your people are ill-equipped to deal with it," he said.

Hearing his answer, Thomas replied at once. "I'll lead you."

"I'm faster alone," he rejected the suggestion. He didn't need a chaperon.

"As you wish," Thomas said.

"Why?" Peter added. "We should help!"

"It's because I believe him. I saw them fight and the speed at which they moved. We would only slow him down. Also, there's no time to waste. Even while we speak, the demon could already be slaughtering our people," Thomas replied.

It sounded like an order urging him to hurry up and leave before too late.

Jack did not wait. "Look, I'm thankful for what you did, and I promise I'll try to stop the demon from killing anyone. You have my word."

"Thank you," Thomas said while opening the door.

Jack went out, running without looking back. The bracelet was giving him the direction of Bunker Hill. His destination wasn't far, but it would still take time, even at the speed he traveled.

Once out of sight, the metal armor covered his entire body, soon turning him invisible. He increased the pace. With the armor on, he could reach fifty miles per hour. If he put in some effort, he could one day learn to run even faster. But going faster now might cause him to trip and fall. It wasn't worth it.

His mind went to the time he'd fought the Shrike. More precisely, the moment when he was about to fall unconscious. It was then that he received the images. It was like watching an open file on a computer with information about Howe. It was extensive, with the data where the Shrike could find him. One place had the date June 17 next to it. He guessed the Shrike was mentally accessing files and unwittingly broadcasting it into his mind.

By now, he could see the Peninsula, the place where the colonists would fight their battle. However, that might not be where he needed to go. British generals didn't fight in the front row. They gave orders from the rear. There might be no point in going on the hill's top. Besides, the battle hadn't started yet. They might all still be at the foot of the hill.

It was at that moment when he felt it. The presence he didn't want to sense. His task was straightforward. He needed to prevent the Shrike from changing history. Letting it kill Howe would inevitably cause the future to change. It didn't matter that Howe was the American Revolutionary Army's enemy.

For Jack, it was all part of history. The man and his descendants must have contributed to the future in many ways. It also didn't matter. Whoever sent the Shrike had ill intentions towards humanity. That was enough to know that Howe's death would negatively influence the future.

He didn't need to ponder where to go. He didn't even need to know where Howe was. He had picked up the scent of the monster he needed to stop. He would only have to follow it, and it would lead him to Howe.

Now, the only remaining question was how to stop the damn monster. There was no point in reaching it if he couldn't stop it from carrying its mission. As it stood, the odds were against him. Both he and Howe might die, and the Shrike would then disappear, traveling further into the past.

There was still a trace of hope telling him this might be the last time he would have to travel. Up until now, he knew he would have to journey further into the past. He knew he would fail his mission because history showed the cult existed earlier. Thus, the Shrike couldn't be dead. That wasn't the case here; not anymore. History didn't mention the cult before the year 1800, which meant his journey was ending soon.

While speeding through the ravine, he saw the British encampment in the distance. This should be the moment when Howe stepped onto the battlefield. It might be the reason why the Shrike had waited until this moment.

The eight-foot-tall demon was already cutting a few of the people standing in its path as if they were overgrown grass in need of a good trimming. Its focus was the tent less than fifty meters ahead.

The same as last time, he took the only weapon capable of damaging the monster out, the blade with the quantum disruption field surging around it. The bracelet further improved the field due to the data collected during their earlier encounter. Instead of increasing his speed, he willed the bracelet to take out a grenade. Earlier encounters showed the Shrike would sense his approach even when cloaked. He needed a distraction. He needed something that would confuse the Shrike at the right time. The grenade was a special one. It was the same as his blade, meant to create a quantum disruption field that ate the anti-entropic field.

The Shrike, he knew, wouldn't like it.

Not daring to wait any longer, he tossed the grenade. It landed in front of the Shrike, detonating upon impact. The barely visible shockwave had a significant effect on the Shrike. It made it stagger, even forcing it to crouch. He was right behind it. He had timed everything right.

While running at full speed, he slashed at the monster.

Its left arm flew in the air, severed just below the shoulder. The shriek that came roaring from the demon froze the blood of anyone who heard it. Turning back, he saw the soldiers protecting the tent on the ground or fleeing at full throttle. It was understandable. They just saw a demon cut down many of their comrades. Everyone would think best to take some distance.

It suited him perfectly. The soldiers escorted Howe and two other generals away. Except for a few soldiers who decided to drop to the ground frozen stiff, he and the Shrike now had a spacious place to do battle.

He didn't wait for it to stand. He wanted to sever the monster's other arm, but the demon evaded the slash even though hurt and disoriented. At least the severed arm didn't regrow. The grenade and sword slash must have drastically reduced the anti-entropic field's potency.

The key was speed. He should never give the Shrike time to recover. He tossed another grenade freshly taken out of storage. Since the anti-entropic field has weakened, it was time to test how much the Shrike would like ten thousand degrees burning hot plasma splashed onto its skin. The charged plasma should also have a restraining effect.

Blue flames engulfed the demon, with electric cracks shocking it. The fire almost caught him too. While taking distance, he took his beloved plasma beam gun out. He fired, hoping to roast the monster further.

Something came flying.

A spike hit him in the right shoulder. It broke his stance, made him drop the torch, and worst, it hurt like hell.

With the earlier combo, he should have cornered the beast. Instead, it still fought vigorously. There was no time to mull over the situation or think about the pain. He willed another grenade to appear. He tossed it after mentally instructing it to explode on contact. Another anti-entropic grenade detonated near the creature, creating a destructive shockwave that only affected the Shrike. The detonation gave Jack time to get back on his feet. Once more, he grabbed his favorite weapon, ready to fight. The blue flames were dissipating, allowing him to see the Shrike. He had damaged it the most this time around, making the Shrike angry.

However, instincts told him it wasn't over. Part of him wanted the Shrike to jump into the past, just like it did countless times. He didn't want to fight it here where it might slip past him. A small mistake, and the Shrike could run to Howe.

The situation was making Jack apprehensive. He needed to be bold. He needed to be aggressive as the only way to beat the demon. However, he constantly had to pay attention to where Howe was, ensuring the Shrike couldn't get past him.

It wasn't easy.

The plasma beam showered the Shrike. However, the demon didn't stand in one place. It evaded the beam with sudden bursts of speed. The Shrike was trying to buy time for the anti-entropic field to return to full power. When that happened, its arm would regrow, and Howe would die a gruesome death five minutes later. Mission failed, the end.

He could not allow that.

With renewed strength, he approached the monster. The plasma beam gun was great, and he made sure to bathe the Shrike constantly with hot plasma. But it still couldn't kill it. The only weapon having a strong impact was the blade. If he could sever a few more limbs, he might wear it down.

At a point when the beam gun sprayed the Shrike's face, he rushed once more. This time, he would take the other arm.

Jack flew backward through the air. The kick in the gut sent him flying ten meters. Worse even, the Shrike's footwear had the nasty habit of growing spikes the moment before it hit. It happened before, making him think he should start paying attention to its legs.

Those might be worse than the arms.

With his guts pierced, his healing ability went into overdrive. Although badly hurt, he still willed the strength to stand. He must not allow the demon to move freely. That was the resolve that made him stand back on his two legs.

The Shrike ran past him.

Despite its considerable size, the bugger was as swift as a cheetah. One moment it was in front of him, and the next, it passed right by his side. He could now spray its back with hot plasma with impunity, yet the demon didn't care. It made him furious. The Shrike was the worst enemy to have. Relentless, uncaring, inhuman, and damn hard to beat. A plasma beam gun wasn't a toy. It was a powerful weapon that could cause massive deforestation if misused. No one would enjoy having it spray their body with incandescent plasma.

The healing was working. With the pain now bearable, he went in hard pursuit. He was faster and, in a few seconds, would be in striking distance. Then he would cut its leg and force it to stop. Unfortunately, he knew it would be too late. By then, the Shrike would have already cut Howe in half.

The plasma beam weapon disappeared, stored back inside his bracelet. He morphed the blade into a spear. It wasn't the way he should use it. He would have to detach a part of the silver armor. Worse, he would have to make it heavy. It would thin the armor meant to protect him. But he had no choice.

He launched the spear with all his might. It wasn't just physical force. He had added all the telekinetic power he could summon. The spear's velocity was inspiring. It reached its intended target in an instant, impaling the Shrike through its right shoulder blade. The Shrike spun like an ice skater performing a bad triple axel, eventually crashing and rolling on the ground like a five hundred pounds broken doll.

He willed more of the suit's liquid metal to form a sword. Albeit shorter than before, it still had the purple glow stuck around it. It would have to do. He took out a one-handed gun to use with the other hand. It was a grav-gun. It would spit whatever was put inside by generating a powerful gravitational force. The liquid metal spread over the weapon, inserting .50 caliber pellets inside the gun's clip. While holding the disruptive energy field, the bullets would do wonders against the Shrike.

A new close-quarter skirmish began. The Shrike was hurt and had to fight with a spear stuck through its back. But it was unwilling to call it quits and drop dead. Jack slashed with the sword, the Shrike parrying with the still working hand. He put two bullets in its chest. It shrieked, the bullets doing what they were supposed to. Once again, the Shrike hit him with its thorny leg, but he was prepared for it. He nimbly evaded the brunt of the force.

But he couldn't evade it entirely.

Most of the suit's metal was in the spear, the sword, or around the gun and its bullets. The suit's protective layer inevitably became thin. It could not supply the same protection as it once did. Even the grazing kick was enough to tear his abdomen.

There was no time to think about the pain. This was it. He had never damaged the Shrike so much. He felt that if he failed today, he would never get another chance. He needed to keep fighting regardless of the wounds he received.

He kept fighting with his improvised mixture of gun-fu and sword-fu. Admittedly, he was terrible at it. He succeeded in landing blows only because the Shrike was equally as bad. The demon was strong, had powerful spikes that could tear through any armor, and had a tough layer reducing the damage it would take. But that was all. It didn't seem great at close-quarter combat. They seemed to be in a similar league, which was the reason why he was still alive.

Another slash, a few more bullets filling the monster's belly, and another kick received as compensation. It was turning into a pattern, one he liked increasingly less. If it turned into a fight of endurance, the Shrike would prevail.

Anger filled him, forcing him to redouble his efforts. He really wanted to go home and stay there. He emptied the clip and slashed with all his might at the demon's side. It cut deep, so deep that he reached its spine. The blade stopped there, unwilling to move an inch no matter how much he pulled or pushed. If he couldn't use the sword, he would inevitably lose. He pulled harder; he even let go of the gun, trying to apply force with both hands. It wasn't working.

With a strange motion that would have dislocated a regular person's shoulder, the Shrike pulled out the spear from its body. The Shrike stabbed the spear straight into his heart.

It was over, he knew. He could never survive without a beating heart. Yet, he was still alive, even though the spear went through his ribcage. But not his heart. He could not understand it. The spear stopped a hair away from his heart.

The Shrike was radiating an orange light. But it wasn't behaving like the usual light the anti-entropic field emanated. It was transforming, at one moment growing irregularly, the next almost disappearing. For reasons he didn't understand, the anti-entropic field was going out of control.

The Shrike was only inches away, shrieking in agony. It was making him freak out like never in his life. It was because he could see the Shrike's face through the thorn helmet. It was like looking in a mirror!

'Did I die and go to some weird hell as punishment for saying too many bad jokes?' he thought.

The anti-entropic field wasn't helping the Shrike heal. It was instead consuming it. Whenever the field went out of control, large chunks of its body disappeared. It was horrible watching the person inside crumbling piece by piece, knowing that that person was him. He from the future was inside the armor and was in agony.

But he was also smiling.

"It's finally over," Jack from the future whispered. He wasn't controlled anymore. "Give them hell for me, will ya."

Those were its last words. Soon, the field, the armor, and the person were gone.

The Shrike was no more, no trace of it anywhere. He fell, his legs unable to hold him any longer. His healing abilities were trying to mend the many wounds, but they barely worked. Keeping himself alive was all he could do—too many injuries, including a large hole that went through his chest, almost reaching his heart.

It didn't matter. He was in pain, he was on death's doorstep, but he was happy. He had defeated the demon. He wouldn't have to time travel ever again. One painful chapter of his life was now over. He would soon travel back to his present, where people would tend to his injuries.

Then, he would happily get on with the rest of his life.

He did wonder what the other Jack meant with 'give them hell for me'. Who were they? When would he meet them, and how would he know they were the ones he needed to give hell?

It wasn't important. He could think about it after people nursed him back to full health. However, there was something that bothered him. Every time the Shrike went further into the past, it would take a minute or two at the most for the bracelet to send him back to the present. Logically, he was expecting the same to happen now that the Shrike was gone for good. But, for unknown reasons, he was still here. Looking at the bracelet, he saw it wasn't giving any signs of activating its time-traveling function.

A mental inquiry gave him the answer. It wasn't working. Or rather, the bracelet didn't own a time-traveling function anymore.

The time-traveling function was tied to the anti-entropic field, which did not exist anymore.

"Oh, for crying out loud," he said, resigned. His life can't get any worse.

---

… in the present

"Do we need it?" Daniels asked.

"That's Klaus' new ballgame. I don't want to get involved," Sam said.

"Maybe we should," Daniel countered. "Especially now that we have the ONI."

Office of Naval Intelligence was the latest branch in the Terran Space Navy (TFN). It dealt with collecting intelligence the Navy needed to run at peak efficiency. With ONI fully operational, the Terran Intelligence Agency's work would inevitably diminish. The TIA would still collect intelligence from around the galaxy but from a different angle. Sam thought Daniel was afraid Klaus went too far with his latest proposal, but she disagreed.

As a military professional, she knew they sometimes needed complete deniability. It wasn't something she liked, but that was the whole point. To do the stuff that needed to be done even when not enjoying doing them. There would be no need for such measures if the universe were always beautiful and full of rainbows and dancing unicorns. But then, there would be no wars or a Navy.

"It's just a proposal, Daniel. Even if it's approved, we will still limit its reach," Sam explained.

"Sure, until it goes out of control, and no one knows—what was its name again?" Daniel asked.

"Section Eleven," Sam said.

"Ah, yes, as I was saying. It all goes to hell the moment Section Eleven becomes completely independent, with no one knowing who's in charge," Daniel retorted. "And don't tell me it didn't happen before."

"It did, and that's why we have to make sure it doesn't happen with Section Eleven. Also, we are talking about Klaus. He thinks long-term, which is why he's proposing this now. He doesn't believe there's a need for it right now. But he knows that when the need arises, it's already too late to start creating it. Section Eleven will need to build its assets, recruit agents, and find informants. Also, Klaus is thinking of having it small. Only two agents for now. David and Peter. You know them, right?" Sam said.

"We worked together during the Cylon-Colonial war," Daniel said. "Good people."

"As you say, they are good people," Sam said. "They go around the galaxy chasing slave traders in possession of dangerous Goa'uld brainwashing technology and do whatever it's needed to take care of the problem. Just because they'll become members of Section Eleven, a hidden agency that won't be mentioned in writing anywhere, they won't change what they do."

"I get it, but it always starts with the best intentions, but then all goes to hell because of the high secrecy and little accountability. I think we should go the Tollan way instead. Embrace transparency in whatever the government does. It should be preferred to creating secret agencies," Daniel said.

"We are not the Tollan, Daniel, and we all know how their transparency worked when things turned rough. It's easy to be an idealist when everything's perfect, and you live in a utopia. But when something goes wrong, everyone has their arms in the air accusing the government of negligence. I think the best is to find the middle ground in everything," Sam said, a little worked up, but then she remembered something. "Shouldn't you have a meeting with the Kobolians today? Yesterday you were so eager to go."

"The meeting was postponed, again," Daniel said, sounding disappointed.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Not sure. I gather the Colonials are still having trouble with the Sagittarians, but that shouldn't prevent them from attending the meeting. I think it's important to focus on their merge with Kobol. Their laws will have to be changed to ensure the Cylons' rights as citizens, which won't be easy. They can deal with that bunch that lives on Sagittarion whenever," Daniel explained but then thought of something. "Although, the two issues might be connected."

"I don't get it. Didn't they solve the problem?" Sam said.

"Which one?" Daniel asked.

"Their overzealous neighbors," Sam said.

"They mostly did. Nagala issued a directive, saying the people must take the cure, no exceptions. Of course, that caused unrest because it violates their right to refuse treatment. However, that wasn't such a big deal. People don't enjoy feeling like crap, not if they can help it. Once the majority received the cure, those who were unwilling became outcasts. The rest wanted them to take the cure, just like they did. Eventually, the government dealt with them in one way or another, and everyone was finally free of the disease. At least, that was true for all the planets except for Sagittarion. Nagala had to use the military there," Daniel explained what she mostly already knew.

"But that was a year ago. I thought the Sagittarians calmed down since then," she said.

The vaccination wouldn't protect them forever, but with the Terrans' help, they wanted to kill off the virus before the immunity wore off. If not, their efforts would go to waste. In truth, the Colonials had done a remarkable job. They were ahead of the curve. There were no reports of new infections, and observation showed little evidence of the virus anywhere. In a few months, the Terrans were planning to use a device like the one on Dakara to blast the last few known mutations of the virus that might be hiding in some dark corner. That was why Daniel was planning a meeting with Nagala and Roslin. They would have discussed integrating all the Colonials under one roof, even Kobol that was hundreds of light-years away and outside the quarantine zone.

"It's because of the Cylons living on Kobol. The Sagittarians are refusing to believe anything the government says. They won't accept that the Thirteenth Colony were Cylons. They are even less prepared to believe there are Colonials related to them," Daniel explained.

"So, it's a powder keg waiting to blow. If talks between Nagala and Roslin go like you think they would, the proposed changes in their laws may cause the keg to explode," Sam said.

"It wasn't easy, but the Cylons have integrated into Kobolian society, and Roslin wants to change the Colonies' legislation before joining. On the other hand, ninety percent of the Sagittarians don't want Cylons living on their planet of origin," Daniel explained.

"They don't want to have them anywhere," Sam said.

"Unfortunately, that's true, but I think the bigger issue lies elsewhere," Daniel said.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"The Sagittarians are not the only ones. Many Colonials don't like having Cylons around. Even after three years of constant portraying the Cylons as Colonials whose consciousness was transplanted into a Cylon chassis, they still want them gone. The same people are also having difficulties making distinctions between the Cylons and the Final Five.

"What Nagala fears is the people finding common ground with the Sagittarians. I think it's the reason why he postponed the talks," Daniel explained.

"But he can't postpone them indefinitely. He knows they must get all their ducks in a row before the quarantine's lifted," Sam said.

The Colonials didn't like being under quarantine. Still, many who at least had the brain capacity to calculate two plus two and come up with the correct answer realized the quarantine helped stabilize the Colonies. A lot needed to be rebuilt. The least they needed was to spend money on their Navy.

However, if not for the quarantine, the people would have demanded it. The news of highly advanced races existing in the galaxy would otherwise have prompted them to request an increase in military spending. People would have wanted a Navy able to protect them against any intruder. They would also have demanded exploring a large region of space around the Cyrannus system—something denied during the Cylon-Colonial forty-years-long armistice and now during the quarantine.

With the quarantine in place, they could focus on restoring their economy and rebuilding the devastated worlds. In three short years, they made incredible progress. Their economy still wasn't at the prewar state, but it was getting there. Soon, they could start investing in their Navy without worrying about their standard of living dropping like a stone.

The Colonies were getting back on their feet and would soon join the larger galactic community. However, they first needed to formalize their relationship with the people on Kobol.

"Solving their relationship with the Kobolians won't go smoothly. It might be better for the people on Kobol to remain independent," Daniel said.

"Their population is small, which makes it impossible," Sam added. Creating a thriving community with only fifty thousand people wasn't without its challenges.

"In the long term, yes, I agree with you. But not in the short term. They could go like this for a decade while immigrating more people from the Colonies. That way, they would increase their numbers while keeping their independence," Daniel said.

"Something like Hong Kong was but on an interstellar scale?" Sam asked.

"Not exactly, but you get the gist of it. The point is that Nagala wouldn't have to deal with the negative sentiment bringing the Cylons into the fold would cause," Daniel said.

"Did you propose it?" Sam asked.

"No, not yet. Nagala and especially his wife Lira want to bring Kobol back to its people. They want the planet to join regardless of what the people who live there wish. I think they would be reluctant to leave Kobol independent for the next ten years. But Nagala doesn't want to steer unnecessary trouble, so he might concede," Daniel said.

"He wants to have the cake and eat it too. I get it," Sam added.

"That's right. But enough about them. You've been all squirmy for some time now. What's up with you?" Daniel asked.

"Nothing gets past you," she said, annoyed he could read her like an open book.

"Well, ever since I went through Genesis, I'm in tune with people's emotions. Even though it's not showing on your face, I can tell that you're worried," Daniel said.

Daniel was right. She was having trouble focusing on her work. Talks about the Colonials were boring, but even they could occupy her mind for at least half an hour.

Half an hour she would spend worrying a little less.

"It's been two weeks, and he still isn't here," Sam said, nervous. "What if something happened?"

"Let's not panic. We know that time travel is tricky. The time spent in the past is the same as how much later one comes back. Jack being away for two weeks means the mission has lasted that long," Daniel explained.

Daniel didn't convince her. Jack would disappear for a few days or a week at the most. But this time, he hasn't shown in more than two weeks. "I don't know, Daniel. I think something's wrong."

"I bet he's close to solving the whole chasing-the-Shrike-through-time ordeal. We know the Shrike's cult first appeared at the beginning of the 19th century. There was no mention before that. The last time Jack traveled back, he landed in 1863. Meaning, he should be nearing the time when history recorded the cult's existence for the first time," Daniel explained.

"That's what worries me. The chances are he's fighting the Shrike, and you know what the score is," Sam said. Every time Jack met the Shrike, he got his ass whooped.

"True, but every time he goes back, he's better prepared. Didn't you give him that quantum disruption weapon that should eradicate the anti-entropic field?" Daniel asked, clearly trying to cheer her up. "That should make things easier for him."

"I have no clue if that thing even works. It should, in theory. But it's not like I have an anti-entropic field lying around to test the weapon. And Liam can't help," Sam said, feeling frustrated. Liam was the only person who might have some clue on how to destroy an anti-entropic field. Still, he was in a distant galaxy with amnesia. "Which means Jack could be using a weapon that doesn't work."

She wanted to complain more, but Walter storming in prevented her.

"Ma'am, sir, minutes ago, an unknown craft approached the station," Walter said.

"What? Where?" Sam didn't know what was going on. Furthermore, she didn't understand why Walter was coming to her. She wasn't the person in charge of system defenses.

"It's coming from inside Earth's atmosphere, and it's sending us our High Councilor's identification code," Walter said.

Whoever was on that ship was squawking Jack's ID for everyone to hear.

"Jack's?" Daniel asked, clearly not understanding.

"Did Control establish contact with the vessel?" Sam asked. The part where the craft came from Earth's surface was puzzling. Of all places, that was the least likely one for a hostile ship to come from. Something else must be afoot.

"Yes, ma'am," Walter said. "We have visual confirmation. The person in the cockpit is Jack O'Neill."

One Jack O'Neill was in a distant galaxy doing bad things to the Vargas. The younger clone remains frozen inside a time dilation field near an anomaly. And the third one should be here in the Solar system, but two hundred years too early to matter. After knowing that, no one on the station would allow the approaching vessel to dock even after confirming the codes and the pilot's identity. They were asking for a higher-up to instruct on how to proceed, and right now, she and Daniel were the highest authority.

Walter storming was part of the process, which meant she needed to decide how to proceed. But gaining a little information first would be better. "What type of ship?"

"It's like our corvette, but preliminary scans show our shipyards didn't make it. Its hull is two hundred years old," Walter informed.

Sam blinked a few times, with her brain quickly going into overdrive. A ship with Jack on it, built two hundred years ago, went unnoticed even while staying on Earth. She then glanced at Daniel. His face showed how perplexed he felt. The same unpleasant thought might have jumped into his mind.

"You don't think that—" she began saying but couldn't finish. It was too ridiculous to say it out loud.

"Well, if he couldn't come back, maybe—" Daniel began saying, but he too found it difficult to finish the thought. Two hundred years was a long time, no matter how one chose to spend it.

"It would explain everything, except why he's two weeks late!" Sam said. He should have been back on time, regardless.

"We are talking about Jack here," Daniel added.

"That's true. He might have forgotten what day it is. I bet he'll explain he wanted to make sure to not return before his departure," Sam said. She then remembered that Walter had come here for a reason. The Solar system was the most secure place in the Milky Way galaxy. No one could have flown in it without them knowing. It meant the ship had to have been on Earth for half a decade, ever since they'd built their advanced detection grid.

She was convinced it was Jack. There was no other explanation.

"Allow the craft to land, but only after powering down all its nonessential systems," she instructed.

"Yes, ma'am," Walter said before leaving the room.

"I still don't get it," Daniel said. "Why would he come with a ship?"

"I can't be sure, but if my hunch is right, he was unable to travel back to our time. The bracelet malfunctioned or maybe some other reason," Sam began explaining. She was trying to imagine what Jack would have done. "He then made himself comfortable. His storage device has many cool things. It shouldn't have been too difficult to make an easy living,"

"Okay, let's say you're right. He spends some time building a cabin in the 19th century and wastes years fishing," Daniel dropped a conjecture. "But what afterward?"

"It sounds like something Jack would do. I bet he could go on for at least two or three years by only fishing. He'd only go out to hunt for food or to make a supply run to the nearest town," Sam kept filling up the made-up story.

"Doubtful. You gave him a portable matter synthesizer. Food and clothing wouldn't be a problem. I bet he even used the matter synthesizer to make pizza," Daniel.

"You're right. If Jack can make beer and pizza, he wouldn't bother visiting a town. On the other hand, he's also a guy who likes a good steak. A piece of meat coming out of a matter synthesizer wouldn't satisfy him," she said.

They were creating quite an elaborate story.

"Point taken. So, Jack went out to hunt or to buy meat. But even then, he can't keep fishing forever. What comes after?" Daniel asked.

"Well, after that, he probably travels the world. You know, just so that he can rub it in your face," Sam said, smiling.

"Why would he need to rub anything in my face?" Daniel asked.

"You always tell him how lucky he is to journey into the past where he can visit many exciting places. He goes around the world so that he can tell you all about it later," Sam said.

"I did make fun of his trips. I still believe he was fortunate to be given a chance to witness the past," Daniel stated but then turned pensive for a while.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's fine when we are talking about a few years. Anyone can do a decade of traveling Earth. But what about the remaining two centuries?" Daniel asked. "It's the 19th century with no modern entertainment. Even Jack likes to watch the occasional TV show to pass the time. How do you fill two hundred years' worth of time without any of it?"

Sam turned pensive, but not for long. "Well, when you get fed up with everything, and you're sure you've done everything you wanted to do, you just build a stasis pod, go inside, close the door, and sleep it off! You wake up in the present, maybe a few days after you went into the past so that there's no overlapping."

"That makes sense, but how does the corvette that just landed fit into the narrative?" Daniel asked the one-million-dollar question.

That was the part she couldn't grasp. Even if Jack could build the craft, why did he? She couldn't see a clear purpose. When stranded in the past, just make a damn stasis chamber and sleep it off. While traveling backward through time was difficult, traveling forward was easy. "I haven't a clue. It just doesn't fit."

"Well, he's a pilot, and traveling from one continent to the next in the 19th century took considerable time. He might have built a craft to move around," Daniel conjectured.

"Walter said that it looks like our corvette. If he wanted to make a craft to get across the ocean, he could have built something simpler. Making a corvette would have been challenging without all the bells and whistles found in our ultramodern shipyards. Creating a puddle jumper would have been easier. Especially if he only needed it to fly inside Earth's atmosphere," Sam added but then turned pensive. "I just realized that Jack would have had a lot of free time. Maybe boredom was the motivator to start a big project like making a corvette."

Daniel nodded. In the end, it was all speculation. Their story-making might turn out as a complete waste of time. In truth, since the man was coming, there was no point in fabricating stories.

The door opened.

"Hey, kids! How have you been?" Jack asked.

"So, it is you!" Sam said. She couldn't have been sure until now.

"Yep. I'm finally back!" Jack replied. He walked and slumped in the chair next to Daniel's.

"Hello, Jack," Daniel said, not fazed by any of it. It wasn't surprising. During the last few decades, they had been through all sorts of circumstances that turned them insensitive.

"Nice to see you, Daniel. How was the conference on Galaran?" Jack asked. "You were going there before I left, right?"

"It was terrible, and that was two weeks ago," Daniel replied.

"Yeah, it's been a few centuries for me. I also didn't want to come back too soon and risk meeting myself. That would have been awkward," Jack said.

"You just didn't want to come back," Daniel asked.

"There was that too. Somehow, I didn't feel like rushing. You know, knowing what awaits me when I come back and all," Jack said while glanced at Walter, who stood in front of the door. He was blocking the most obvious escape route. In two weeks, a lot of paperwork piled up.

"So, Jack. Care to explain what happened?" Sam asked.

"I'll give you the short version. We can talk more later when there's lots of food and beer around," Jack said.

"Okay. Just start explaining," Sam said impatiently.

"Well, believe it or not, I went back to Boston in the year 1775…."

The short version wasn't as brief as she thought it would be. Jack still gave many details of where he went, who he fought, and finally, how it ended. It was quite the story, making her realize how Jack's life was never dull. Or part of it might be when Walter makes him do paperwork.

"We now know how you defeated the Shrike, and I even have a clue of what happened. But what I'm interested in is what came afterward," Sam asked.

"Wait, wait! What do you mean you know what happened? I've been racking my brains trying to figure it out. You know I'm bad at the whole time-traveling thingy. That's all just a big paradox to me," Jack said.

"Oh, so you do understand!" Sam said.

"What are you talking about?" Jack replied.

"It's a paradox, so its conclusion cannot be fully logical," Sam said.

"Now you've lost me too," Daniel said.

"Jack was the Shrike from the future, right? He was forced to travel into the past. It was done to weaken the Terran Federation. However, another party finds you, Jack, and gives you that bracelet. They want you to go after the Shrike, saying that only you can stop it. The Shrike cannot be stopped because no one knows how to destroy the anti-entropic field. But here comes Jack from the Shrike's past (our present), who the Shrike can't kill because they are the same person. Why can't the Shrike kill Jack? That's because if it did, the Shrike wouldn't have come into existence. Jack (Shrike) from the future can't kill Jack from his past, yet no one can kill the Shrike while that anti-entropic field is around it. If it were possible, we from whatever future would have done it ourselves.

"What I've just explained is a paradox that the death of any of you can solve. So, when the Shrike stabbed Jack in the heart, everything began unraveling. An unsolvable paradox was born no matter what logic you try to apply. If Jack dies, the Shrike shouldn't have existed. But if that were true, all that the Shrike changed until then should have returned to how it was. But then Jack wouldn't have traveled to 1775 where the Shrike stabbed him," Sam explained, or at least, she tried.

"My head hurts," Jack said.

"Mine too," Daniel said.

"I told you it's a paradox. The situation was such that our timeline had to merge two diverging temporal lines into one. One in which the Shrike didn't travel to the past, and one in which it did. I would say that the timeline somehow fixed itself," she explained.

"Oh yeah, the moment you said merge two diverging temporal lines, it all became clear," Jack said sarcastically. "And I'm sure listening to more of your explanation won't improve my understanding."

"I know, it's confusing—and it's just a theory of mine that I can't prove. But now it's your time to explain. I want to know what happened after," Sam asked, eagerly waiting.

"After? Well, the bracelet's time-traveling function refused to work. It meant I was stuck in 1775, which sucked. Big time! I was bummed about it for a while, but I decided to think of it positively after a few days of moping. You know, something like, I just got myself an extended vacation and should use it to the fullest.

"The first thing I did was find a nice place where to spend some quality time with just me. I built a small cabin near a pond—nothing fancy—and started fishing," Jack said.

"I told you he would have started fishing," Sam said to Daniel.

"That wasn't difficult to guess," Daniel retorted.

"Am I telling the story or what?" Jack said, annoyed at the interruption.

"Sorry. Please continue," Sam said.

"So, after two months of fishing, I've had enough. From the whole world to choose, I found a pond with no fish in it. I just couldn't do it anymore, you know. So, I decided to go on a journey," Jack said.

"Only two months? I thought you'd last at least a year," Daniel interjected. "But keep going. Where did you go next?"

"All over the place. I think I visited most countries. It took me about twenty years to get tired of it," Jack said.

"Wow, that's quite the vacation you had there," Sam said, glancing at Walter for a moment. He didn't miss the part where Jack had fun for decades! Walter would make sure Jack didn't slack off for the conceivable future; she was sure of it.

"You know what, Sam. It really was a great vacation. You can't imagine how calm life was back then. Today, you need to be available 24/7, and your phone or pad or whatever always rings, beeps, and informs you of important events you can't postpone. You always have a packed schedule that's automatically updated every minute of the day. God forbid if you have an hour of blissful nothingness to do. It gets magically filled right away," he said. He gave a short but meaningful look at Walter before continuing. "And I'm not talking just about work. I'm talking about our personal lives too. In the past, making a trip to Europe took months. Part of it was spent on a boat and the rest while having a good time. You needed to enjoy it fully because you wouldn't be able to travel back and forth often. Moreover, during your travels, no one can contact you except by letter. When I started traveling, not even the telegraph was invented yet!" Jack explained.

A person like Jack, who liked peaceful activities like fishing, would appreciate such a slow pace. There was no rush, no deadlines, no communication devices that rang countless times a day.

And there was no Walter.

"So, you traveled the world, you visited every corner of it, but even that had to end," Daniel said.

"Of course. I could have spent more time at a few places. I met some fascinating people on the road with whom I didn't mind spending weeks or even months. But eventually, I decided it was enough of 19th century Earth," Jack said.

"And?" Sam asked, eager for a quicker response.

"I decided to leave," Jack said proudly.

"Huh?" Sam grunted.

"What?" Daniel added.

"I was fed up, so I decided to visit other planets."

Sam didn't know what to say. She didn't even think of that possibility, and it was for a good reason. "Wait, wait. Is that why you built a ship? No, that can't be. Earth's missing many materials. To make a ship capable of interstellar travel, you would need Naquadah and Trinium. Other precious materials are also unattainable on Earth."

Jack was shaking his head. "It's true that it would have been a pain to make such a small ship capable of interstellar travel with the materials present on Earth. But, Sam, that's the wrong way to think about the problem."

"What wrong way?" Sam asked.

"I left Earth to build the ship, and not the other way around," Jack said, smiling. "Ever since I saw the blueprints of the corvette, I wanted to fly it. But I knew I would have to wait for two hundred years. So, I decided to travel the galaxy, get the right materials, and build me the damn thing! It's not like I lacked the time."

"But that's impossible," Daniel said. "The gate was unearthed much later."

"Yeah, we unearthed the one in Giza hundred years later," Jack said with a smirk. "But there was another gate on Earth. One frozen like a popsicle inside a mountain."

How could she have forgotten? She was stranded there, together with Jack. They almost died during that mission. "You used the second gate."

"I did. After rigging it, I first went to a world the Goa'uld never visited. I think we used that planet for our Alpha Site. Once there, I made a small base of operation. Then I went searching for some much-needed materials and tech. I had all the SG reports stored in my bracelet, so I knew where to find the right deposits. It was quite easy to get enough precious metals," Jack explained. "Getting the right tech, however, was tricky."

"Why would you need any tech? Didn't you have everything you'd need inside your bracelet? You even took an Asgard matter synthesizer," Daniel said.

"It was just a portable one, not meant for heavy load. I would have risked burning it halfway through building a ship. I would have been in a pickle if that were to happen," Jack said. The device was his most precious possession, irreplaceable even. Losing it would have been a tragedy. "No, it was better to visit some minor Goa'uld and steal a nanite-based fabricator. One on the smaller side would have been enough as long as it could construct the hull."

"Well, with your metal suit and all the gadgets and weapons you had inside that bracelet, it shouldn't have been difficult to steal it," Sam said.

"On the contrary. I hit quite a snag there," Jack said.

"Why?" Sam asked. She wasn't expecting that.

"Because it wasn't easy to go to any of the planets held by a Goa'uld," Jack said.

"I don't understand," Daniel said.

"At first, I couldn't either. It was just that, when I dialed a Goa'uld world, the gate wouldn't connect. I was baffled and didn't know what was going on. I was prepared to give up when it suddenly opened to a world with only a minor Goa'uld present on it. I believe we never met that snakehead during our time at SG Command. There was no fabricator there, so I went to another planet. I tried dialing a planet I couldn't before, and this time it connected. I thought before was a glitch and that everything was fine now. But the next time, I tried it didn't work again. Why could I sometimes travel, and other times couldn't? It made no sense. That changed when I noticed a strange pattern appearing. I could travel almost always when I took a zat-gun as my weapon."

"I don't know what that means. The gate would open when you took a zat-gun?" Daniel said.

"It makes no sense to me either," Sam added.

"There are consequences when you choose to wield a zat-gun instead of, let's say, a plasma weapon or one that spits bullets. The difference is that when you go with a zat-gun, you are not planning on killing anyone. It's not guaranteed, but at least you go with that intention. That's what reminded me. I was in a timeline in which I've lived in its future. The past and the future were connected! If I killed a person in the past that I already met in my present, I would have caused another paradox—one the universe couldn't correct."

"You're right! I completely forgot your presence in the past created a loop. You in the past would inevitably change the future, but the timeline doesn't allow that. It must fix itself even though your very existence is disruptive. Yet, you cannot die either because it would disrupt the timeline even more. The Shrike wouldn't have existed," Sam understood.

"That's right. Somehow, the universe was preventing me from causing irreparable change to the timeline. Such a change would cause diverging into a different present from the one I experienced," Jack said.

"What are the two of you talking about? More importantly, why is Jack so fluent in science talk?" Daniel asked.

"We are talking about the impossibility of changing the same timeline, even if you could travel back into time as Jack did. The only exception was the Shrike, and I suspect it was only because of the anti-entropic field. Once the field was gone, no action Jack took could influence his present. Or the Shrike's future, for that matter," Sam explained, deciding a little more explaining is needed. "You need to think of it as if our universe can correct minor alterations so that Jack's present before going back stays the same even after he's back."

"That's right. The universe can fix changes I make, but only minor alterations. If I were to kill a person I interacted with in my present, the universe wouldn't be able to fix it. It can't make a dead person reappear. That's why I can't kill people I already interacted with. And what better way than to stop me from even coming near them," Jack said. He turned to Daniel. "And to answer your question, I'm not into science stuff more than I was before going to the past. But when you have two hundred years to mull over your fight with the Shrike, you develop a thousand-and-one different theory on why it went down the way it did. I even had time to look it up in the repository of knowledge."

Jack wasn't planning on downloading the Repository of Knowledge directly into his brain, not ever. Still, he wasn't against sifting through it the old-fashioned way. In two hundred years, even that method would have resulted in a considerable gain in knowledge.

"That makes sense. At least, the part where you mull over it for that long. But to me, it doesn't make sense that just because you decided to use a zat-gun, the universe allows you to travel through the stargate," Daniel asked.

Sam understood what Daniel was missing. "The zat-gun isn't important, Daniel. The intent to not kill anyone is. When Jack took out a zat-gun before stepping through the gate, consciously or not, he decided to avoid killing. And without deaths, the timeline wouldn't diverge too much from the original."

"Sam's right. After understanding that, I could travel if I didn't plan to cause a great disruption or found myself cornered with no choice but to kill or be killed regardless of my intentions," Jack explained further.

Weirdly, it made sense. Jack wouldn't be able to travel the galaxy at large without getting any ideas of doing good deeds. Inevitably, he would have fought the Goa'uld and caused the present to change. That couldn't happen, which was why the universe prevented him from traveling to places.

Another thought popped into Sam's mind—one that saddened her. It could be that Jack had planned to change past events he regretted the most.

"Judging from your face, you must have realized," Jack said.

He must have noticed her saddened expression. "Were you planning to change some events from your past?"

"Of course, I did! The moment I realized I wasn't returning to the present, I thought it might not be the worst thing that happened to me," Jack said, giving a gloomy look. "Even after noticing that I couldn't cause any major change, I still couldn't give up. I first tried to save a colleague who has died during a mission. I failed, of course, the same way I failed every other attempt that would change my present. In the end, I couldn't even come near my house. The universe wouldn't let me."

Those words contained anger. She could empathize. She would have done the same in his position, and the future, present, and past can all be damned. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"It is what it is, Sam. In my mind, I knew I couldn't change the past. Frankly, it would be strange if we could do it," Jack said.

A time traveler shouldn't be able to change the present in the same timeline. There would be little meaning to life if that were true. There would be no assurances that what you did in life, someone else wouldn't erase by simply traveling back in time and accidentally stepping on a bug.

Both Daniel and she were reluctant to speak. Melancholy took over what up to that point was an exciting conversation.

"Let's not dwell over sad stuff. Had enough time to think about it anyway," Jack said.

Daniel coughed. "So, you were telling us about having turned into a galactic thief."

"Yes, Daniel. I decided to take stuff the Goa'uld wouldn't miss but would help me build a ship. I chose a small fry Goa'uld mentioned in a report that we never met. While cloaked, I stole a medium-size fabricator the Goa'uld used to build Tel'tak," Jack explained.

"Was it good enough?" Sam asked. There was a difference between the production process employed in current Terran shipyards and what the Goa'uld used. Especially hundreds of years ago.

"Nope. The fabricator couldn't make a corvette with the same specs. However, I didn't need it to be the same. I also had the matter synthesizer that could build the tricky parts, and I had a lot of time. I think I did a decent job. You can look at the ship later. I focused on making it a tough little ship with a fast hyperdrive to go anywhere in the galaxy. I also made a decent cloaking system. If undetectable, I could keep the changes to the timeline to a minimum. That allowed me to travel to most places," Jack explained.

"I'll give the ship a thorough exam later. Just give me the broad strokes for now," Sam said. For the story to be whole, she wanted to know what kind of craft Jack built. Jack wasn't an engineer, and he never even had the spirit of one. But he was a pilot, and he liked flying ships.

"Well, the hull was a mixture of Trinium 56%, Carbon 35%, Neutronium 9% alloy, with a strengthening field capable of increasing the hull's toughness by five times. The shield wasn't anything extraordinary. I didn't want to waste the little free space the ship had on a large generator. Also, our latest shields can stop weapons that didn't exist back then. I wasn't going to run into the Ori or Vargas. That's why I decided to make it a type IV shield," Jack explained.

"Type IV is a great choice. It has great efficiency, and it's the easiest to incorporate with a phase cloak. The hull composition and strengthening field should have made the ship able to brave through most dangers," Sam said. She liked commenting on such things.

"That's what I was thinking. Then, I made the same Naquadria reactor like the one inside our corvettes. It took some doing, and I had to make most components with the matter synthesizer because the Goa'uld fabricator couldn't make them of the same quality. The reactor and hyperdrive were the most challenging to make," Jack explained.

"No backup?" Sam asked.

It was dangerous having only one reactor when alone in the universe. A reactor malfunction could leave Jack stranded, with no way of reaching a planet. Distances in space were such that traveling at STL would get you nowhere. The crew of the Tria had shown how lousy being stranded in the void of space was. Even while pushing their sublight at top speed, it still took them ten thousand years to barely come out of the Pegasus galaxy.

It would have taken them three million years to reach Earth.

"Well, I had a ZPM, three-quarter full, don't you remember? You gave it to me days before going back in time. I thought using it as the ship's main power source would be a waste, but it was perfect for a backup. I did make a backup for the hyperdrive, though. A small jumpdrive just enough to limp to the nearest planet with a gate."

With both the hyperdrive and the reactor having a backup, getting stranded was improbable. "Okay, so you've covered your basis."

"Yeah, for that period, my hyperdrive was fast. It could get me from one corner of the galaxy to the other in a few months. Since I had two centuries to waste, that was fast enough for me. What else did I make? Oh yeah. For weapons, twin plasma cannons like those the Asgard used onboard their Beliskners. I had the blueprints inside my bracelet. They had quite the punch for their size, and part of the plasma would phase through shields. Only after Anubis made changes did Goa'uld shields become resistant to the phasing technology."

"Your corvette might have been the strongest ship in the galaxy. It would have been even better if you had drones," Sam said.

Drones were tough to make because they needed some hard-to-get materials and high-tech equipment. Still, drones would have given Jack better control over a battle. With them, he could easily decide the level of damage he would inflict—a great ability when the universe tries to stop you from making changes to the timeline.

"I had them," Jack said, smirking.

"You made drones?" Sam asked.

"No, I stole a few from Earth," Jack said. "Nobody would miss a couple of dozen drones."

Earth had many, and they weren't exhausted during the attack on Earth. Later, they replenished Earth's stock with drones produced on Asura. "Well, you knew we wouldn't use them all, so no harm there."

"With the bracelet's storage, I could travel, sleep, and live inside the corvette while visiting different worlds," Jack said. "Thank God for all the DVDs that I copied inside my bracelet. It made traveling much more enjoyable."

"But what's the point if you couldn't change anything?" Daniel asked.

"I wouldn't say that I couldn't change anything. I just couldn't change events related to my present. I did many things that I believe have made a difference to many people. From my point of view, I believe I made some folks' life better. It might be that in the grand scheme of things, my contribution was small, but I still believe I didn't waste my time," Jack said, becoming pensive. "Granted, I couldn't make any major change, like hurting the Goa'uld, even though I had the means to do a lot of damage. You can't imagine how weak the Goa'uld were back then. Only in the last hundred years did they start improving their technology. Before that, their ships were slow and seldom used in wars. There was no point investing in stronger shields and weapons. Goa'uld mostly waged wars through the stargate by sending armies of Jaffa. It was the reason why Goa'ulds survived for so long. It was damn difficult to target them when they mostly spent time aboard their mothership deep inside their territory. How do you target a Goa'uld in a galaxy a hundred thousand light-years across when the engines on their largest ships can't push faster than ten light-years in a year?"

"Was it like that the whole time you were there?" Sam asked.

"I don't know what happened, but somewhere around the middle of the 20th century, they started improving their technology by leaps and bounds. As if they found a stash of new technology lying around somewhere. Their ships became faster. First, it was ten times, then a hundred times, all achieved in a few years. From ten light-years, they could suddenly cross a thousand light-years in the same amount of time," Jack explained.

"That's a jump of two hyper-bands; not something easily accomplished," Sam said. "Hyper-physics is challenging to grasp. For a race of scavengers like the Goa'uld, it suggests they found the knowledge somewhere and implemented it. I don't believe they suddenly became smart and imaginative."

"No, they didn't. Even stranger, many Goa'uld made the same leap," Jack said. "I would understand if it were one Goa'uld who found some tech, but how did the new tech spread to many Goa'ulds at the same time?"

"It might have been through the work of spies," Daniel said. "Even until the last moment, the Goa'uld had awful security. With their backstabbing mentality, minor Goa'ulds could have switched sides by promising stolen goods to a more attentive System Lord."

"They were vultures. The instant they notice one has tech they don't, they do whatever it takes to get their hands on it. Even allying with others wouldn't have been out of the question," Sam said.

"I agree, but I was still unable to pinpoint the new tech's origin. At the time, I was mostly on Earth. I wanted to be here during WWII and its aftermath. Interesting times and many interesting people to meet on Earth have also precluded looking deeper into the matter," Jack said.

It meant he hadn't been gallivanting in the galaxy when the Goa'uld made their leap. Although disappointed, she understood Jack's decision to come home. She, too, would have returned to Earth to live through one of the most eventful periods in human history.

"Was that the only time when you returned to Earth?" Sam asked.

"I came back many times. I wanted to see our history, all the major events. The big wars, inventions, or just to have a nice chat with distinguished individuals," Jack said.

"I'm jealous," Daniel said. He faced Sam. "Is that the rubbing that you mentioned?"

"Yep, I bet he did it for that reason," Sam said. She noticed Jack's cluelessness. "Before you came, I told Daniel you'd decide to meet noteworthy people to make him jealous. You know, because he's always saying that you're lucky to enjoy meeting interesting people and places through our history."

"You're right. When I realized I was stuck there, the thought crossed my mind. So, I decided to do what Daniel believed I was already doing. But later, I realized that meeting renowned people was entertaining. I told you how people were back then. More relaxed or slow-going might be a better way to describe it," Jack said.

"Who did you meet?" Daniel asked.

"Of the famous bunch, the first two were Lincoln and Washington; I couldn't pass that up. Then I met Edison; it was by chance, but a remarkable person, nevertheless. Let's see, who else? Both Roosevelts at some point."

"I can sense a pattern," Daniel said. Except for one, the others were presidents. "How did you get to meet them?"

"It wasn't difficult. You just need to meet them before they become popular or after they retire. Oh, I also met Emily Dickinson, but only briefly," Jack said, still thinking who else he met. "I traveled with Livingstone for a year. I had a fascinating conversation with Darwin. Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Fleming, Churchill, Gandhi, Wilson, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Gorbachev, the 14th Dalai Lama, Oppenheimer, Lennon, Billy Holiday, Babe Ruth, Muhammed Ali… ah, it's too many to count them all. I mixed the order a little, and I'm sure I skipped a few. It would take more time to recall them all."

"Wow, that's a groovy group," Sam said. She glanced at Daniel. "Daniel, keep breathing!"

"You and I will have a long talk," Daniel said while looking at Jack. "I want to know everything there's to know about these people!"

"Sure. If there's beer involved," Jack answered.

"I thought you'd complain. I'm almost disappointed," Daniel said.

"Two hundred years, Daniel. People change," Jack said.

"I know. It's just that, for me, it's been two weeks! I still must sort out how long it's been for you," Daniel said.

"I just realized something," Sam added. "Jack's almost three hundred years old!"

"The candles on the cake must look ridiculous," Daniel joined in.

"I don't care. I still feel young inside," Jack said, unperturbed.

"It's a little creepy too. You look the same. A little different around the eyes, maybe," Sam said.

"You carry your years extremely well, O'Neill," Daniel said in a deeper voice. "That's what Teal'c would have said."

"I couldn't imagine traveling as an old man, constantly tired. Wandering the galaxy is for the young," Jack said.

"Even after Genesis, two hundred years would have put me at the end of my journey with only a few years left," Daniel said.

Only because of his Alterran physiology could Jack travel for so long. If what Liam told them was true, an Alterran could live for thousands of years. If they didn't deteriorate mentally, an Alterran wouldn't show signs of aging.

"Nah. You would have probably ascended and then got kicked out for some stupid bravado, but with a younger body," Jack said.

"Oh, that would be nice," Daniel said.

She began thinking of what to ask. There were so many subjects she wanted to chat about. "What should I ask next?"

"We can talk more later. The three of us, dinner, beer—many beers—in a cool restaurant. It should be fun. I won't go out of stories to tell in a single day," Jack said.

"That many?" Daniel said.

"Well, try to imagine our first travels through the gate. Every time it was a new adventure. It's the same now, just two hundred years of it. I would stay in a world for as long as it was interesting. Sometimes it would last for months or even a year, while sometimes, it became boring after a few days. With the gate network, I could go to so many places," Jack explained.

"Didn't you use your ship to travel?" Daniel asked.

"I did, sometimes. But often, I'd instruct it to travel on autopilot while I used the stargate. It was faster that way," Jack explained.

Jack could contact his ship regardless of distances. Sending the ship ahead was a great way of preventing the boredom a long trip might cause. She also understood those limitations didn't deter Jack from fighting the good fight. There were many Goa'ulds he hasn't met, and even with those, he could still force small changes. There were also the worlds without the Goa'uld. He could visit those more freely.

"You've said you helped many planets, right?" Sam asked

"I did. At first, I was worried about the whole past-future loop. But then I said to myself. So what? I'll do whatever is right, and if the universe disagrees, it can stop me," Jack said.

"Did it?" Daniel asked. "I mean, in other ways besides stopping you from using a stargate."

"You can bet on it! Sometimes the universe went so far it prevented me from firing my weapon. I would point my plasma gun at a Goa'uld, and it wouldn't fire. Then the Goa'uld would point its weapon, and it wouldn't fire either. Then we would stare at each other, not knowing what to do. In the end, I would grab the Goa'uld and beat the living crap out of him, sometimes in front of his worshipers. I'd leave him all beaten up but alive. I'm clueless how the universe fixed itself afterward," Jack explained.

There was no point in thinking about it. The present stayed the same, at least as far as Jack's present was concerned. Life in some remote corner was different because of what he did, but it had no impact on Jack's present.

"I'm envious," Sam said.

"There's no reason, Sam. The same way I spent two hundred years adventuring in the past, you can do it in the present. I could only change what I didn't know much about, and those are the things worth living. It means that it's not much different from living in the present in which you don't know what's going to happen next," Jack said.

Jack was right. No reason why living in the past should be more exciting than living in the present. She could make as many memories through many adventures as she wished. Strange that she didn't think of that.

"You're right," Daniel began answering before she could. "Our journey is only beginning. I will have many chances to meet interesting people and experience great adventures. Besides, I now have you to tell me about the people you met."

It might be that Jack talked with famous people because of Daniel. Livingstone, the man Jack said to have spent time with, was an explorer who traveled through Africa. He was the type of person that suited Daniel more than it did Jack. Jack must have spent time with the man so that he could now tell Daniel about it.

Something Daniel would immensely enjoy hearing.

Jack also mentioned spending time with famous scientists, including Einstein, Edison, and Tesla. That wasn't what the Jack she knew would enjoy doing. She might be wrong, but the reason might be Jack wanting to talk to her about them.

"Yes, I have two hundred years' worth of exploits to share with you. But we can leave that for later. I'm going to take my afternoon nap now," Jack said.

"Afternoon nap?" Daniel asked.

"You are napping in the afternoon?" Sam added.

"During these two hundred years, I learned it's a good thing to take it easy. I'm in no rush anyway," Jack said while standing up. "Since it's been only two weeks, I suppose my house is as I left it."

"Sir," Walter said while blocking his path. "There are some matters you need to look at before taking your nap."

"Walter, I just got here. I don't have to start working right away, do I?" Jack added.

"Sir, you don't have a valid reason for missing two weeks of work. You were on Earth, weren't you?" Walter said, smiling. It was a dangerous smile.

"Yes, Walter, you're right. I should have come sooner. Still, no need to get all worked up about it," Jack replied. "I'll tell you what. Give me a few urgent matters to solve and leave the rest for tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Excellent, sir. Let's go to your office so we can start at once," Walter replied.

"Lead the way, Walter," Jack said, following Walter out of Sam's office. "See you, guys."

"And he's gone," Sam said, then turned to face Daniel. "Do you think he'll make it to dinner?"

"Don't know. I'm sure Walter won't let him take any naps. Walter might not let him sleep tonight either. He takes paperwork very seriously," Daniel said.

"I don't even know how it started," Sam said.

"Wasn't it us who told Walter to watch Jack like a hawk, or else no paperwork would ever be done?" Daniel asked.

"You mean when Terrania was first built, and we were barely starting?" she asked.

"Yes. I think you and I discussed it with Walter just after the Council was formed. We told him that Jack won't do any paperwork and that it's up to him to make him," Daniel explained.

"That was ages ago. You really think Walter is taking his obligations that seriously?" she asked.

"He does. Even a decade later, he's still stalking Jack and forcing him to work hard," Daniel said.

"Maybe it's better if Jack doesn't discover how it all started," she said.

"You're probably right," Daniel added.

"You know what, I'm not in the mood for working, and I don't have anything urgent. I'm going home to rest and then get ready for tonight's dinner," she said.

"I thought we could go to that restaurant near the lake you and Jack often visit," Daniel said, already on his feet.

"Sounds good. Let's make it around seven," she said.

"See you at seven. I'll inform Jack of the time. Bye, Sam," Daniel said while exiting her office.

"Bye," she replied.

She began tidying up her desk, thinking about the dinner they would have. Jack would inevitably tell stories of his journeys. Those would be both informative and fun to listen to. She still couldn't wrap her head around what it meant to spend two centuries exploring the galaxy. The wealth of knowledge Jack acquired was undoubtedly immense.

Jack might have become the wisest man on Earth.

She shuddered. She just thought of Jack as the wisest man on Earth. Jack, the person who everyone should look for advice… she simply could not picture it. It just didn't sit well with her.

She decided it was time to stop thinking about silly things and go home. A hot bath would do her some good and prevent her from getting ridiculous ideas.

She tapped her bracelet a few times before disappearing inside a flash of light.

---

…far, far into the future

It was one of those days in which he woke up with a massive headache. Worse even, it was a day in which he wished he didn't wake up at all. Even thinking of it as a nightmare was preferable, as at least he would know it wasn't real. But it was real, and it was also a nightmarish reality in which unknown people have kidnapped him.

Opening his eyes, he began examining his surroundings. The room was large and full of equipment of unknown purpose. He didn't spend much time inside labs, but he visited a few, mostly when looking for Sam. During those times, he gained a basic understanding of what equipment the Terran scientists use.

These machines looked different. Clearly, aliens made them; there was no way around it. Confirmation came when one crossed his field of vision. Aklarians, that was the race's name. Not the greatest of friends the Terrans had found in the universe. A decade ago, their strenuous relationship turned for the worst. As for a reason, he still wasn't entirely sure. But, although unfriendly, he never thought they would boldly kidnap the head of the Terran Federation. Their home galaxy was two hundred million light-years away, which begged the question.

When did they travel to the Local Group?

Making quick calculations, he soon came up with the number of years it would have taken the Aklarians to come here, even if they traveled at full speed.

It would have taken a minimum of five years, most probably seven or eight.

It meant they had been planning this—whatever this was—for a long time. He still couldn't understand what the Aklarians' goal was. He was an important person. His people would undoubtedly go ballistic over this, doing whatever it was necessary to get him back.

But he was just an individual. The Second Great Alliance would make no concessions just because he became a hostage. Yet, he also knew the Aklarians. They weren't stupid, and this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision in which they found a terrific opportunity to kidnap the Terran Federation's High Councilor. The Aklarians were methodical, patient, and had a long history of conflicts to draw experience. Not on the level of the Ancients, the Aklarians could still be seen as an older race. Knowing that, he couldn't but assume the Aklarians had a specific goal in mind.

But for the life of him, he had no clue what that goal might be.

Pain. He felt intense pain in his mind. By now, he realized they had him hooked to a strange machine. He could barely move his head. Just enough to see that they had put him inside a peculiar metallic armor. The pain was almost unbearable. A type of pressure surged straight inside his mind—a sort of intrusion in the deepest parts of his consciousness.

He resisted, of course. He didn't know how long he could last, though.

"He's resisting," an Aklarian scientist commented.

"Increase the intensity," another added.

"If increasing the intensity didn't come without risks, I would have done it from the beginning," the scientist replied. He could sense the sarcasm in the man's voice. "We risk damage if we rush the process."

"We have no choice. His people are coming, and we both know what our chances are against their ship," the second Aklarian said.

Jack wanted to answer with 'zero, zilch, nada!', but unfortunately, he couldn't move his mouth. He couldn't move his body at all.

The first one sighed. "Very well."

More intense pain assaulted his mind. It was strange. He wanted to think one thing, but something foreign was persuading him to consider another. In his mind, he hastily constructed a mental palace, entered inside, closed the door shut, locked it, and nailed it to the frame.

It helped, but not as much as he'd hoped. He had no control over his body, and his palace, his last line of defense, was shaking under external pressure. He had never experienced such a mental attack, and he had experienced many during his long career. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long—an hour, two at the most, and only if the Aklarians didn't increase the intensity.

The thought of killing himself suddenly popped into his mind. He should be able to cause an aneurism, but somehow, he believed it wouldn't work. The probing was trying to take control of his thoughts. Still, a simple check informed him that it had already taken control of his body. It must have happened while he was still unconscious.

He simply couldn't get a break. Attending a boring conference was already bad enough, but how did it end so much worse and in such a short time?

"He's still resisting," the Aklarian in the lab coat said.

"Increase the intensity of the probing further," the other one said.

"I believe that is what he wants," the scientist said. "He's hoping we would fry his brain. That would make our last ten years a massive waste of time."

The scientist was very insightful. If they kept increasing the intensity, he might genuinely die, which would ruin their scheme. Whatever they planned, he wanted them to fail. If he had to die to ruin their decade-long hopes and dreams, whatever those might be, he would gladly do it. He would die with a mocking smile.

The voice of a third Aklarian reverberated. "Long-range sensors are detecting a massive hyperspace wake."

It might be best not to die just yet.

"They are coming," the second Aklarian added. "How long until they're here?"

"Minutes," the third Aklarian, the one he couldn't see, responded.

"Even with all the precautions and planning, they still found us so soon," the second Aklarian said, irritated.

"They are traveling through the forbidden hyper-band. They must be wasting energy to travel this fast. We may have a fighting chance!" the scientist said.

"Mavis, you're a great scientist, but you should leave the strategizing to others," the second Aklarian said.

"Why?" the scientist protested.

"Because what Terran ships never lack is energy reserves. That ship has enough stored to decimate ten times our numbers and still have extra energy," the second Aklarian said.

They were going against the latest capital ship in the Terran Federation. Unless the Aklarians made some groundbreaking advancements in their ship-building technology, their ships were inferior in every conceivable way. As the ship responsible for carrying three council members to a distant galaxy, the Enterprise S had so many spare ZPMs that it was embarrassing saying the number out loud. It could only sound like bragging.

Even though in pain, Jack smiled. Righteous retribution was coming for these people.

"We have no choice. We proceed with plan B," the second Aklarian, the one Jack thought was in charge, said. "Send him back now."

"Wasn't that plan C?" the scientist retorted.

"Why did I take you on this mission, I wonder," the first Aklarian said, frustrated.

"Don't you remember? You told me that if the mission was a failure, you at least wanted me to die too. The thought of you dying here while I was back home happy with your ex-wife terrified you."

"Oh yeah, there was that reason. But we don't have time for this now. Just send him back!" the first Aklarian said.

"What about the probing?" the scientist said. "There's no guarantee the probe will succeed without constant monitoring."

"It will have to break through his defenses on its own," the second Aklarian said with finality in his voice.

"Their ship has exited hyperspace! A jamming field is preventing us from entering FTL!" the third Aklarian said. Anger was contained in the man's voice.

"Send our escorts to intercept. They must buy us time," the second Aklarians said. "Are you ready to send him back?"

"I still need to initialize the anti-entropic field. I need a few minutes," the scientist said.

"We might not have them. Our escort won't last long," the Aklarian said to the scientist before turning to the other Aklarian. "Prepare the ship to self-destruct."

"Is that necessary?" the third Aklarian asked. He didn't look forward to dying.

"Yeah, is that really necessary?" the scientist added.

"If we are successful, we will change our timeline. Consequently, we won't be in this situation. However, if we fail to send him back, it is best to destroy all evidence. The Terrans would capture us anyway, and I'm not looking forward to that," the Aklarian in charge explained.

"Our escorts are being destroyed one after the other! We only have moments before they turn their attention on us. I'm inputting the self-destruct sequence," the third Aklarian said.

The ship shook. The Aklarians were experiencing the Terran plasma lance weapon of the latest generation. If he were right, his people would target the shield generator first. With the shield down, they would start beaming people in. That thought made Jack rejoice. He was annoyed he couldn't show a smile because he lacked control over his body.

"I'm activating the anti-entropic field now!" the scientist said.

He didn't like it. Whatever the alien did, it made Jack feel weird having that energy going through him. There was something unnatural about it. It was damaging his cells in a way he couldn't comprehend, but he knew it was bad. Worse, the probe was controlling his body and was instructing it to start the healing process. A tug war between the field and his healing ability trying to revitalize his cells began.

Dying would be preferable.

"Terran High Councilor Jack O'Neill," the Aklarian in charge said before taking a few steps closer to him. "You're the only person who can survive the anti-entropic field. You will help the Aklarian Empire greatly."

He wanted to say, 'I don't think so,' but his mouth wouldn't move.

Another hit shook the ship.

"Engaging time transition, now!" the scientist said.

The anti-entropic field went haywire. The only thing he could see was an intense orange light. Then, the light disappeared altogether. Even the pain went away. He didn't expect such a turn of events. He thought he would have traveled back in time, as the scientist had mentioned.

The Aklarians didn't expect such an outcome either.

"Why is he here?" the Aklarian in charge shouted. "Did the time transition device malfunction?"

"I don't know!" the scientist replied. "No! It worked."

"What are you saying? I can still see him!" the one in charge shouted again.

If not for the precarious circumstances, it would have been fun to watch these people argue.

"No, look here!" the scientist said, pointing at a display. "I'm detecting Chrono particles. A temporal shockwave is coming!"

He had lost them. Ever since the scientist mentioned Chrono particles, he knew it was too much for his brain to grasp whatever was going on. True, he understood the gist of it. But he was uncertain if what was happening was good or bad, which was the only thing of any significance right now.

Did he travel to the past or not?

Did history change?

Would the Aklarians celebrate, or would they despair?

"The shockwave will reach us in three seconds!" the scientist shouted.

'One, two, three,' Jack counted in his mind. It should become clear which was it immediately.

The feeling was like the time when he downloaded the Repository of Knowledge. It flooded his mind with so much information that it hurt. It really hurt a lot. He saw a pattern here. This day must be about pain and suffering so that he could better appreciate the uneventful days, like those that had conferences or paperwork in them.

New knowledge was being pumped into his mind at a blinding speed, so much of it that he couldn't understand what it held. He couldn't grasp much of the information the universe was sending his way in bulk. But that wasn't all. While gaining memories of a different life, the outside world was also changing. It was like two universes superimposing one on top of the other. The earlier one, with three Aklarians, and the new one, with four. In the second reality, the scientist wasn't even a man anymore, but a woman.

The old reality began fading away while the new one became vivid. But his memories didn't follow the same pattern. He was the only one inside the anti-entropic field, so he would be the only one to keep the memories from the older reality. It was confusing, and his mind protested about the sudden clutter in his brain. With the time both Shrike and Jack spent in the past being part of his memories, he felt like his head might finally explode.

But there was more. Even the life he had lived afterward wasn't the same as from the earlier reality. There were changes to the life he lived after returning to 2018. Significant changes, amazing changes, sad and joyous once, all superimposing over the memories of a reality that didn't exist anymore. Did he truly live through all those memories now part of a reality that did not exist anymore? Did it even matter?

One might say he suddenly gained three or four centuries of disjointed memories he now needed to sift through. He would require many years of meditation to do some proper housekeeping inside of his mind.

Never a dull moment, he thought. At least it was now fun to watch the Aklarians in front of him squirm.

"Why is he still here?" the Aklarians said.

In this reality, they were slower on the uptake. Here, they didn't realize the temporal shockwave had passed. They had no memories of it.

"I don't know! It should have," the scientist replied.

"It doesn't matter. We've failed," the one in charge said. "Activate the self-destruct!"

Terrans stormed the ship. Entire squads began appearing everywhere. It took less than five seconds for the Terrans to incapacitate the four Aklarians, a few Terrans to free him, and all beam back to the Enterprise.

Terran shock troops. Those did not exist in the older reality. The Aklarian wish to change the past backfired on them, big time.

Opening his eyes, he saw Sam with a slightly different hairstyle. But it was still her, the Sam he knew and loved.

"Jack, are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

The anti-entropic field wasn't there anymore, and the probe had stopped doing whatever it did. However, the strange metallic armor still restrained him, and he was unable to speak. He was also tired, with his consciousness slowly drifting away.

At least this shitty kidnapping would prevent him from attending tomorrow's conference.

Thank god for small favors!

He fell unconscious with that happy thought.

He, of course, was off the mark.

They had enough healing cubes onboard to return him to top shape in time to attend the conference.

---

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