A Quantum Leap Into Chaos
By Livi2Jack
Summary: Dr. Sam Beckett 'leaps' into Stargate SG-1's Colonel Jack O'Neill. Chaos ensues around Stargate Command. What is Dr. Beckett there to fix? Crossover with Quantum Leap.
Rating: Teen
SG-1 Season: 7
Related Episodes: Evolution parts 1 & 2. Heroes
Characters:
SG-1: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, Teal'c, Hammond, Paul Davis, Janet Fraiser.
Quantum Leap: Sam Beckett with Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci, Gushi, & Ziggy, the sentient computer.
Category: Crossover, AU, Action/Adventure, Humor, Angst
Warnings: some violence, some language
Pairings: hint at S/J.
To the Reader: Italics indicate internal thoughts. (Parentheses indicate someone speaking from the imagining chamber where there are two of the same people involved in the scene.) Dr. Jackson and Jack are in the future. Daniel is in the present. Beckett is sometimes referred to as O'Neill/Beckett to distinguish from Jack. I don't call him Sam because it would confuse him with Samantha (Sam) Carter.
The Stargate is an alien device found in Egypt used by the U.S. Air Force to travel instantly between planets by means of wormhole outside our dimension. SG-1 is the flagship team leading the exploration of the galaxy and fighting the bad guys, the Goa'uld. The Goa'uld are intelligent alien parasites that inhabit human hosts.
IMPORTANT Author's Note to nitpickers: Read these links first: and http://en. far as I am concerned, we don't really know which year he started in anyway. His lifespan could include his future from the original start date of the project. Get over it.
To refresh the reader: Sam is physically leaping through time but only within his own lifetime with certain specific exceptions we aren't going to include. His mass is exchanged with that of the leapee. Sam's entire body and soul trades places with the leapee, although the physical aura of the leapee stays around. That's what other people see. In other words: Sam does not share handicaps or injuries suffered by the leapee before Sam's leap in. But Sam will sustain injuries suffered while he is there. And he CAN die. These premises are supported by a great number of episodes: "The Wrong Stuff," "Nowhere to Run," "Blind Faith," "Runaway," "Trilogy part 3," "Pool Hall Blues," "The Color of Truth."
To quote The Source Himself (executive producer/writer Don Bellisario): "...when Sam leaps in and bounces somebody out, I like to think of it this way: ... if that person was hit by a car and they broke their leg and hit the street and then Sam leaped in, Sam would not have a broken leg. But if Sam leaped in and was crossing the street and was hit by the car, then Sam would have the broken leg."
Small children, the "mentally absent", animals, and people near death can see Beckett as he is and also can see Al. Beckett can see himself as he is but not in the mirror. Beckett's memory is impaired regarding his past life and identity. The leapee experiences the same Swiss cheese memory problems as Beckett. Generally leapees think they have been abducted by aliens. Any other nitpicks can attribute the differences to the ripple effect Beckett's leaps have had in our universe. LOL.
DISCLAIMER: "Stargate SG-1/Atlantis" and its characters are the property of Sony Pictures, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp., Showtime/Viacom and USA Networks, Inc. "Quantum Leap" is the property of Universal Pictures and Belisarius Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are the property of the author(s), and may not be republished or archived elsewhere without the author's permission.
Introduction:
Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Doctor Sam Beckett led an elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top secret project, known as QUANTUM LEAP. Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Doctor Beckett, prematurely stepped into the Project Accelerator and vanished. He awoke to find himself in the past, suffering from partial amnesia and facing a mirror image that was not his own.
Fortunately, contact with his own time could be made through brainwave transmissions, with Al, the Project Observer, who appeared in the form of a hologram that only Doctor Beckett could see and hear. Trapped in the past, Doctor Beckett found himself leaping from life to life, putting things right, that once went wrong and hoping each time, that his next leap will be the leap home.
'It all started when a time travel experiment I was conducting went... a little ka-ka. In the blink of a cosmic clock, I went from quantum physicist to air force test pilot, which could have been fun... if I knew how to fly. Fortunately, I had help. An observer from the project named Al. Unfortunately, Al's a hologram, so all he can lend is moral support. Anyway, here I am, bouncing around in time, putting things right which once went wrong. A sort of time traveling Lone Ranger, with Al as my Tonto, and I don't even need a mask.'
'Leaping about in time, I've found that there are some things in life that I can't change, and there are some things that I can. To save a life, to change a heart, to make the right choice, I guess that's what my life's about.'
Oh boy!
Right now I'm in trouble…terrible trouble.
A lot of strange looking people are trying to kill me with some weird kind of weapons. They look like…energy weapons? That's impossible. Energy weapons consume more energy than they could ever produce. They aren't efficient. It's against the laws of physics.
"Sir, get down!" Sam Carter screamed and lunged at Colonel Jack O'Neill pushing him out of the line of fire and behind a rock. Partly raising up she unloaded her MP-5 at the advancing Jaffa. More weapons fire resounded as other SG teams pumped thousands of rounds of lead into the pursuing minions of another system lord.
"Fire in the hole!"
I heard that in my ear. Oh, I have an earpiece. Radio, right a radio. I look at my companion. She's a woman in military gear giving orders. That's good. Someone is in charge. Uh oh, I'm in some kind of camouflage and vest thing. And I'm holding a huge machine gun.
"This is SG-3 Niner. We are under attack. Say again, the Gate is under attack."
"Pull back!" The woman looks at me wondering. She makes a decision. "This is Carter. The Colonel is down. I'm assuming command. Dial out and keep the Gate open at all costs."
"The Colonel is down? Can we get to him?" I look around.
"Sir, you are down. Where were you hit?"
"I-I don't think I was hit."
"Then we have to go." She checked around the rock. "Hostiles at 2 o'clock in the tree line. We have GOT to go, sir."
"O-okay? Right. Let's go. You first, I-I'll cover you."
"No sir, you are injured. You have to go NOW!"
She grabbed me by the collar and hauled me off, scrambling to get to my feet. Just then some sort of aircraft flew overhead shooting energy out of some sort of externally mounted weapons. Methodically, they landed ever closer to our position. I felt her shove me to the ground as the concussion blasted us. Dirt flew everywhere. She was on top of me covering me. She was a big girl. Then she rolled up and unloaded on the passing aircraft. I didn't see what happened. She was shoving me and pulling me up to start running again.
"MOVE, SIR! MOVE, Damn It!"
She shoved me hard and I went down with the wind knocked out of me. She grabbed my weapon and used it to kill two big guys pointing long sticks at us. "GET UP, SIR! We have GOT to go!" Again she hauled me to my feet pulling and pushing me along. I had no idea where we were going. Clearly she was determined to get me there.
More of those men appeared from another direction. She pulled me sideways. I tripped and went down, hitting my head, stunned. Then she landed on top of me, firing at the pursuers. I felt her reach into my vest and pull out some rectangles. I heard the clips of magazines click into place. Oh, she had reloaded. And then she unloaded.
"SG-3, this is SG-1 Niner. We are pinned down a quarter klick from the Gate, at 1 o'clock to your position. Get everyone out! That's an order!"
I heard chatter in my earpiece which was magically still embedded in my ear.
"Sam, we are coming. Teal'c and I are almost there. Hold on." A male voice whispered frantically.
"How does he know my name?"
"Sir?" She didn't completely turn to me.
"Someone called me to say they were coming. That's good, right?"
"Sir, stay down! Daniel is coming."
She kept a sharp look out for more of the strange enemy. Again, more aircraft flew overhead. Two banked to make another strafing run at us. We were behind a rock in the middle of a field. We were sitting ducks.
"Which way?"
"Sir?"
"Which way? Which way do we go?"
She pointed behind us to a stand of trees. She was aiming at the aircraft swiftly diving on a strafing approach. I grabbed her and pulled her up. She understood I wanted to get to the tree line. With every ounce of energy we both had, we ran for it.
From behind, I heard a terrible explosion. Turning just as we made the trees, I saw one of the craft explode. A missile shot upwards from the surface to find its mark on the other one. The pilot evaded but the run was briefly aborted.
Surface to air missiles? Where are we? It's forest not jungle. Then a strong hand jerked my arm and I was off again, farther into the trees. She crouched behind a fallen log. I dropped down beside her, panting. I felt blood trickle into my eye. She saw and frowned as I touched my head. My fingers came back covered with my own blood.
In a swift motion, she undid her vest and took out some more magazines to reload my gun. She handed it back to me and clipped it to my harness. I was wearing a harness so I could clip the weapon to it and use my hands for other things if necessary. I have leaped into other soldiers before. I knew what these things were.
"Sir, you have to focus. We are cut off from the Gate. We only have a few more minutes before it shuts off. We may not get another chance to dial. No matter what happens, this cannot fall into the enemy's hands."
She patted her vest pocket. I had no idea to what she referred. It must have reflected in my eyes. She shook her head, concern flooding her features. Then the ear piece squawked again.
"Sam, where are you?"
"In the forest across the clearing," she whispered. "The Colonel hit his head. He's out of it."
"Hang on, Major Carter. We are approaching from your six," different male voice, deeper, whispered.
I'm a Colonel? A colonel of what? So she's a major. I outrank her. But what the heck was this gate everyone wanted to get to? And who were all those guys chasing us? I knew the gear. We were definitely U.S. Military. But why weren't we wearing helmets? If we were in combat we should have helmets. Instead we were wearing soft hats. She was handing me a baseball cap?
"Here, sir. I got it for you." My face was a question mark. "Your lucky cap." I put it on since it was called that.
She opened her vest and pulled something out. She reached over, wiped the wound, and stuck a Band-Aid of some sort on my forehead. It staunched the blood flow. Then she went back to surveying the approach to our position. I decided to do the same from the opposite direction. If I was a colonel, and this was a battle, I had better get my act together.
"Who-who are those guys?"
"Sir?"
"Who's chasing us?"
"They belong to Anubis. Remember?" She shot me a glance. I must have looked confused. "We just raided his laboratory, sir."
"A-Anubis? Isn't he an Egyptian god, from ancient history?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was the funeral god of the dead before Osiris."
"Sir?"
"Yeah, I remember this." Memories were coming to me intermittently. 'He Who Counts the Hearts'. Should the heart be light as the feather, the soul would then be lead by Anubis (or, in some cases, Harseisis) to be presented to Osiris. Should the heart be heavy, it is fed to Ammint and the soul destroyed."
"That's very good, sir. Daniel would be surprised."
"Why-why would 'Daniel' be surprised?"
"Well, sir, you usually don't seem all that interested," she looked concerned at me. "Sir, I think you have a concussion. Behind you!"
I rolled and saw a huge man-like 'Thing' in body armor, walking implacably toward us. It was at least seven feet tall, maybe more. It was in some sort of black helmet with glowing eyes. It was raising its arm level. The Major tried to shoot it. The big Thing fired another series of energy blasts at us, missing, but sending shrapnel off of what it did hit. She threw a grenade. I threw a grenade. Nothing stopped it. We watched horrified as it proceeded towards us.
All of a sudden more shots and energy blasts hit the Thing. It didn't seem to notice. And then the place erupted with a whine and then an explosion. When the dust cleared, the Thing was no where. Whoops of joy came out of the trees from both sides of its last position. I turned to look at the Major. She was grinning in satisfaction.
And then the impossible happened. The THING got up from the crater and started towards us again. More shots hit some kind of barrier around it. I couldn't see it, but if I were to believe my eyes, it was a 'force field-like' defense? Still the Thing came to us.
The Major grabbed me trying to make a run for it. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. I stumbled backwards as she pulled me. We both tripped and went down. I hit my head on a tree trunk. The pain nearly knocked me out. As my vision blurred, I could tell the Thing was still coming at us. I could only hear the ringing in my ears. I saw but did not hear someone screaming. Then my ears cleared a little. Far way, I could hear the shots coming from automatic weapons.
Big Thing raised its arm to fire again. The Major threw herself over me. Incredibly, the Thing collapsed just as it was certain to kill us point blank. My heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest. Her dead weight crushed me. I had trouble breathing. Then I passed out.
"Colonel," someone was patting my face. I struggled awake. My vision was blurry. Everything hurt. "Sir, wake up. I think he's coming to," the Major spoke to someone standing over me. I had difficulty focusing. "Colonel, we have to go. The Gate is going to shut down any minute."
Strong hands lifted me. I tried to stand, but I wobbled. In an instant, someone lifted me over his shoulders. My face was pointed down to the ground and I found myself slung over a man's shoulders. We made incredible time through the woods. I hurt so badly I wanted to puke. The jolting and being upside down didn't help.
I hurled. Helplessly, my arms dangled down, flopping as someone carried me like a sack of potatoes. The nausea overwhelmed me again. I threw up whatever was left, and then passed out again.
I don't know how long we trekked through the woods. I awoke sitting on the ground with my back against something hard. Voices around me were anxious. I could see them in position facing away from the Major. She was standing at a pedestal. There was some big stone ring on a platform with stairs. She worked swiftly. The ring began to spin. Markings on the thing lit up as it paused then began to spin again.
A great wave of water shot out with a roar and formed into a standing wall of water. I knew I had really hit my head hard. This could not be happening. Again strong arms lifted me up. I tried to stand. But two men bolstered me on either side, frog-marching me up the steps toward the water.
We were going into it! I gasped to hold my breath. An instant later we hit a metal surface inclined down. There were armed soldiers pointing weapons at us. Oh boy!
"Medic!" The Major shouted. An all clear given from somewhere, we moved down the ramp inside a concrete room. Someone rolled me onto a gurney. "The Colonel has a head injury."
"Report, Major," a deep voice came through a P.A. system.
I didn't hear the rest. I passed out again. I don't know how long I was out. But I woke to prodding fingers and the sounds of activity all around me. The lights were bright, too bright overhead. My vision swam. They rolled me away from a large machine. I think it was an MRI/ CT scanner. Some orderlies lifted me off the gurney onto a bed and pulled up the covers.
"Good, you are awake, sir." A small woman with auburn hair shined a penlight into each eye. "You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"
"Colonel."
"Colonel what?"
I was stumped. Helplessly, I shook my head from side to side and deeply regretted it as nausea swept over me. My look must have been enough.
"Nauseous?"
"Yes."
"All part of the concussion," she continued to check. "We'll give you something for the nausea."
I saw something injected into an I.V. tube. Something coursed through my veins burning slightly. And it was cold, too. I must have winced.
"Cold."
"That's the medicine. You should feel it start working." She looked at the screen next to me. I couldn't see it. But I could guess what it showed, my heartbeat, blood pressure, brainwaves, the works.
"Do you know where you are?"
"No."
"That's ok. It will come back soon enough. You're safe now, Colonel. We have to keep you elevated and you can't sleep just yet." She directed the staff. I guessed she was a doctor because her insignia indicated it. She moved off to check others. The woman was no nonsense.
It was then Al appeared, startling me. He was dressed in one of his outlandish get ups all purples and reds…big lapels. Someone should call the fashion police on him.
"Where the hell were you?"
"I was at the Laker game. It went into overtime," he shrugged in a sort of apology.
"A ball game? I nearly died because you were at a ball game?" Hysteria creeped into my voice.
"It wasn't just a ball game. It was a play-off game. At the party later, I met this dish named Martha."
"I guess I can thank God you didn't spend the night with this Martha."
"Well, I did."
"Cut to the chase. Where am I? Who am I?"
"Ziggy had a new data search component installed and we had to have it shipped in from Hong Kong and I think that gave a little jet-lag to the modem of the floppy disk."
"Why do you make this stuff up all the time? Why don't you just say to me, 'Sam, we don't know.' Why don't you just do that for once, instead of making it up all the time?"
"Well, that wouldn't be any fun." Al continued to punch a hand held device. Frustrated, he hit it and then shook it. He frowned. This couldn't be a good thing.
"Al!" People turned to stare. I closed my eyes, hoping they would just go back to what they were doing. The pounding in my head continued.
"Sam, we don't know where you are. In fact for a while there we couldn't find you anywhere."
"Oh, great."
"But we do know who you are."
"That's something."
"You are," Al hit the device and squinted to read it. "You are Colonel Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill. You are in the Air Force. You've been in Spec Ops for 30 years. Retired once, but came out of retirement and have been back at work for the last six and a half years. Doing," he squinted again. "We don't know what you've been doing. Ziggy can't access those files. Ziggy says your file was scrubbed. Your personnel file says that you are doing Deep Space Radar Telemetry. I've been around this block before. This stinks of a covert black program."
"I was in a firefight. I didn't see any radars. We did shoot a lot of people and one aircraft. It looked experimental and it was shooting at us with energy weapons."
"Energy weapons? You did hit your head."
"I know what I saw, Al. A bunch of big guys were chasing us firing long sticks that shot out energy and so did the aircraft. Then a huge guy came at us firing from his arm. He had a force field."
"Sam, you have a concussion. The shots just missed or something."
"Al, I'm telling you it's real." I stared up, trying to calm down. "They were trying to dial something they called the 'gate.' It was a big ring and it shot out water. We walked through it to get here. But we didn't get wet."
Al gave me one of those patient looks that make me want to smack him.
"Why am I here?"
"We don't know yet."
"What is this place?"
"From what I can tell it's a medical facility in a military base." Appreciatively, Al watched a pretty nurse walk by. "But we don't know where. It's a first. No body is answering my calls." He took a pull on his cigar. "But don't you worry. I'm still a Rear Admiral. I'll get to the bottom of this."
Al turned to an unseen someone. "I have to go. And I'd better change. This O'Neill is a hard ass. He's yelling for someone in charge to show up. Gotta go. Don't fall asleep with a concussion."
Al winked out.
(QL Facility, New Mexico)
"Oy," Jack muttered.
The room was white with a place to sit or sleep and a toilet facility. There was nothing to use as a weapon. Pacing around he couldn't figure out how he got here. At least no one was torturing him…yet. And it was clean and warm. The food was ordinary but decent. From what he could tell, these folks were not Jaffa. Aliens? Probably. Goa'uld, definitely not so far as Jack could tell. He didn't like to admit it, but after blending with Kanan, he could tell. He just didn't like to admit it.
Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci entered the room in his full Naval uniform, having changed for this meeting. He wanted to get the authority issue into perspective for the Colonel. Jack eyed him, not believing what he saw. Al took him in to judge his approach to the meeting. He went for professional.
"Atten-hut!"
"Blow it out your ass."
Jack watched to see if the man would have an arrogant Goa'uld reaction. He didn't see one. But he did see Al give a short single motion directing uniformed guards into the room.
"That would be 'blow it out your ass', SIR."
Al assumed his command demeanor which was a little scary. He gave Jack 'The Look.' Jack took in Al's appearance carefully. He decided to play along and see what would happen. Slowly, Jack came to attention. But he wasn't happy about it.
"What, no gloating?"
"Huh? Explain yourself, Airman."
"You first, who are you?"
"That's you first, SIR. I'm not going to tell you again, Colonel." Al pointed to his shoulder boards with the star.
"Okay, I'll bite. Who are you, Admiral?"
"Rear Admiral Al Calavicci, United States Navy."
"Yeah sure you are…sir." Jack stayed attention, though.
"You have quite an attitude, Colonel. I would lose it…quickly."
"Or what, you'll put me in a cell? Lock me away. Send me to the pokey? Leave me in the hoosegow? Throw me in the BRIG…sir?" Jack smirked. "I'm already in jail so can we skip ahead to the description of what horrible fate awaits me, yada yada, and etcetera. My favorite TV show comes on in an hour. You're on the clock."
(SGC)
Wow! I have a lot of scars. Geez! What has this guy been doing all his life? One-two-three-four-five-sixseveneight-nine…bullet holes? I know a bullet hole scar. Knife wounds? Legs…aw look at those knees. Three, surgeries to repair the knees. One over the eye, that's not even as bad as the ones on my arms and hands. How does he look at himself in the mirror? I'm having trouble. Oh wow! His back! He's had back surgeries, too. I can still see where they put his arms back together. What the hell? He's got head scars too. This one was the worst. Did he fall on his head? Burn mark, too?' Dr. Sam Beckett parted the hair to see underneath in the mirror. 'Oh my God! He's got burn marks all over, little ones and big ones. And he's still in the Service? Deep Space Radar Telemetry my foot! My foot? Oh, it's MY foot. Let's see it in the mirror. Oh wow! Scars from knives and burns on the feet, who is this guy?'
Dr. Sam Beckett parted the hair to see underneath in the mirror.Sam checked his hands by looking down at them. Phew, no scars anywhere. I'm me. Ok, so I have my body but his appearance. Hmmm, he is good looking in a rough sort of way. He's seen it all. Look at those eyes. I need a shave.'
"Colonel O'Neill, do you require assistance?"
That's the big guy with the tattoo on his forehead. Um, name, name… "I-I-I'm okay. Be right out." What's his name? Damn.
"If you are not out in a minute O'Neill, I shall remove you for your own safety."
"C-c-coming."
I opened the door to the men's room. I was not going to pee in a bed pan if I could walk. I hate those things. Besides, I wanted to see what 'I' looked like. I'm sorry I asked.
"O'Neill you do not look well."
"Um, yeah, the Doctor says I have a concussion."
"Indeed."
We stood there until he decided to walk. I followed. I had no idea where to go. He did. There were plenty of people walking in a hurry. We went back to their sick bay. Suddenly, sirens, lights, and klaxons went off and they all started running.
"Shouldn't we go somewhere?"
"We are in fact going to the Infirmary," he answered placidly among the chaos.
"Yes, but shouldn't we go to battle stations or something?"
He looked at me assessing something. I felt lost. He took my arm and guided me back to bed.
"That," he pointed at my bed, "is your battle station today, O'Neill."
"Unscheduled off world activation," a voice on the P.A. called out.
"What?" I didn't think I heard correctly. The announcement repeated. "What?"
"I must go to the control room. You must stay." The big guy waited until I got in bed. He gestured to the guards. "See that Colonel O'Neill remains here." With that he strode out, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was still in the bed. I gave an uncertain half wave to show I was cooperating. But he frowned. I didn't get it.
"How is he," Major Carter asked Teal'c in the Control Room?
"He is injured."
"Well, yes, but is he doing any better?"
"No."
"Oh, where is he?"
"I told him to stay in bed."
"Oh, then he'll be here soon."
"He went to bed and stayed there."
Everyone exchanged glances. Daniel let out a low whistle. Hammond snorted.
"No IDC, sir," Walter reported.
In front of the Iris blocking the Stargate, something shimmered and seemed to materialize. The SFs slammed their gun bolts prepared to fire. Ba'al's image coalesced, still shimmering.
"Bow before your God," he commanded.
"Hold your fire," commanded Hammond through the P.A. "It's a hologram. What do you want?"
"Summon O'Neill. He has that which is mine."
"Colonel O'Neill is not available. I'm in charge here, General George Hammond."
"Do not try my patience. Bring him before me." Ba'al smirked and adjusted his brocaded gown. "We know he came back through the Chapa'ai."
"Get Colonel O'Neill," Hammond ordered with his hand over the microphone. Daniel put in the call to the Infirmary. Everyone waited nervously until O'Neill/Beckett showed up in the Gate room looking surprised.
"Kneel before your God," Ba'al commanded.
"What?" O'Neill/Beckett grinned in disbelief.
"Impudent."
O'Neill/Beckett continued to apprise the hologram and the SFs, then looked up and saw the crew in the Control Room. Hammond nodded to him to deal with Ba'al.
"It's a hologram," O'Neill/Beckett determined. He turned to the group upstairs saying more loudly, "It's a hologram and a really good one!"
He grinned and laughed, delighted. Daniel clapped his hand to his mouth to keep himself from saying the wrong thing. Jack was in rare form again. He loved to taunt the Goa'uld.
"Hey, that's great. How do you do it, projection cameras?" O'Neill/Beckett walked around the image. Ba'al became incensed. "I don't see any cameras, really good job."
He was smiling, waving his hand through the image and chuckling. There were groans in the Control Room.
"You have something which belongs to me. Return it and I shall forgive you, for I am a merciful God. Disobey me and I will burn this world to ashes."
Laughing, O'Neill/Beckett looked up at the group in the upstairs window and shrugged. Turning back to the image, he laughed some more.
"You doom yourself and your world."
"Oh please, who wrote this script? No one talks this way. Someone speak the writers about the cliché's." O'Neill/Beckett put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Great camera work."
"I will not ask again."
Amused O'Neill/Beckett asked, "Can you be more specific? Animal, mineral, or vegetable?"
"You dare mock me?"
"Who are you anyway?"
Unfazed, Ba'al decided it was slightly humorous. After all he had spent a week torturing the man. With a smirk, he answered smarmily, "I am your God, Ba'al."
"You want a ball?" O'Neill/Beckett looked the image over. "That's some get up. Who's your tailor?"
"You have one day."
"Um, I don't know what time it is. I need to calibrate my watch." Beckett pushed up his sleeve. Not finding a watch, he looked back at Ba'al and shrugged haplessly. "Seems I lost my watch." Beckett looked confused not knowing what else to say.
"One day." Ba'al faded out.
"Hey that was fun." Beckett told the folks upstairs. Everyone's mouths had dropped open. "What?"
"Colonel O'Neill get back to the Infirmary and STAY there! That's an order!" Hammond was seriously pissed.
"Yes, sir," O'Neill/Beckett turned unsure which way to go. He looked up to the Control Room again questioningly.
"Colonel O'Neill!"
"Yes, sir," O'Neill/Beckett answered uncertainly?
"What are you waiting for, Jack?"
"Could you point me?" O'Neill/Beckett sounded sad.
Snorts of amusement came from behind the General. Hammond pointed to the door to his left. O'Neill/Beckett nodded and walked to the exit. The doors opened and SFs were waiting to escort him back to bed.
"I have a phone call to make. How long before you know what to do with it, Major?"
"Sir, we should call the Tok'ra. I think it's beyond us."
"Very well, you have permission." Hammond left and the group split up.
(QL Facility, New Mexico)
"What horrible fate awaits you is this, Colonel." Al waved at the big white room. "If our operative does not complete his mission, you are stuck here forever." Al put the cigar back in his mouth and puffed. Jack coughed and waved at the smoke. "Sit down," Al indicated a chair at a table the guards had brought in. Al took his chair. Jack looked things over for a weapon and an opportunity. Other than the chairs, he found none. So he took a seat to play along.
"Care to explain that enigmatic and oh so cryptic statement?"
"This is classified. Capiche?" Al waited until Jack nodded. "I'm granting you clearance right now. You are in the future. This is an ultra-secret base where we experiment with time travel. Our operative has exchanged places with you in your time. He has to change something back then. But if he can not do it, he is stuck there and you are stuck here. That clarify it?"
Wiggling his fingers in the double quotation mark gesture, Jack smirked, "Oh puh-leeze, been there done that "time travel" wake up in the future thing." Jack lowered his fingers from the quotation mark gesture. "Isn't someone going to notice?"
"No, he will appear to be you to them…just as you appear to be him to us…but not to me."
"Oh, and why not you?"
Al tapped his temple. "We are linked. So I can talk to him and see him in your time. I help him get his mission done."
"And, so, therefore, what?" Jack checked his watch then tapped it. "The Simpsons come on in …45 minutes. You don't want to keep me waiting." Jack frowned but waited for the other shoe to fall.
"Only there's a problem this time."
"Of course there is."
"We don't know where he is or what he is supposed to do." Jack shifted his weight without saying anything. "We need to know what it is you do so we can figure out what he has to do."
"I respectfully decline, Admiral."
"That is not an option. I am ordering you to disclose."
"You'll have to get permission from the President." Jack waved away the smoke, then blew it away. "And then you'll have to convince me he really was/is the President…and not an hallucination. Oh, but wait, I won't recognize this 'future' president, now will I? OR will I?"
"You are insubordinate, Colonel. Just answer the questions. What are your orders? Where do you operate?"
"I work on Deep Space Radar Telemetry."
"Bullshit, we read that in your file already. I'm not buying it."
Jack shrugged.
"You need to work on the delivery."
"I've been told that."
Al waved for a large file to be set before him. "This is your file. It's been scrubbed. But this is what we know so far. You are a colonel in the Air Force. You have been in various theaters of operations according to your awards." Al listed all the awards. "Impressive, I'll admit. A guy who works on radars doesn't get these kinds of awards."
"Oh you be surprised how dangerous radars can be."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Al began reading from the notes in the file. "You were in 'Nam, Spec Ops, and then Desert Storm. You were captured and spent four months in an Iraqi prison. I'm sorry. I was a POW during 'Nam." Jack met his eyes. Understanding passed between them. Al read on. "Oh, then you retired after the death of your son…who shot himself with your gun!" Al gave O'Neill a look of pure disdain. "You've got marks against you for threatening a U.S. Senator, kidnapping, and various incidents of insubordination not detailed. You threatened a Senator?" Al shook his head.
"Sure why not?"
Al snorted. "I wish I could do it every time I go to the Hill for funding committee meetings." Al looked at him square in the eye. "It also says you are dead."
"I've been dead lots of times. Which one in particular," Jack shot back?
That response got Al's attention. At first he thought Jack was being a smartass. Then he saw the man's eyes. This man was dangerous. Al carefully closed the file and regarded Jack levelly.
"Okay, Colonel, I get it. What would it take to convince you I'm on the level?"
Jack thought it over. They had experienced plenty of weird situations including time travel. But he couldn't remember the particulars. It unnerved him. He didn't remember being divorced. He didn't remember which senator he had threatened, yet he was certain he did. He remembered Charlie's death. He seemed to remember laboratories, lots of them. Something was wrong. His memory was like Swiss cheese, lots of holes. He couldn't sense a Goa'uld symbiote in the man. But that didn't mean one wasn't lurking around.
"If I'm in jail, do I still get one phone call?"
(SGC)
Beckett ambled back to the Infirmary trying to memorize his way around. The colored stripes on the floors suggested paths. But once back in the Infirmary, Beckett started to look around more thoroughly. The equipment looked familiar. He realized that he knew each major item and most of the small ones.
"We've got to talk," Al stood beside him in full Admiral's regalia. Beckett startled.
"Do you have to sneak up on me?" Beckett put down the item he was holding.
"I'm sorry. What do you expect a hologram to do? Knock?" They looked exasperated at each other. "We have a big problem. Jack won't talk. I can't get anyone at the Pentagon to talk to me. So I have a call in to the Joint Chiefs for Presidential permission to ask Jack what's going on. This just gets weirder and stranger. By the way, Jack is dead in our time."
"So maybe I am here to keep him from getting killed?"
"We don't know that yet. It's possible, though. After an hour with him, I'd like to kill him, myself." Al punched in some data to his hand held device. "He's a real piece of work. And he's a hero." Al shook the hand device. "He has no fear. This guy threatened a U.S. Senator and got away with it. He's been in 'Nam. He done a list of Spec Ops missions over 30 years that makes my hair stand on end. He's a better shot than a sniper. And he was a POW in Iraq, but escaped. His kid, Charlie, killed himself with Jack's own gun in the house."
Beckett groaned.
"The kid's death nearly sent this Colonel over the edge. The guy was suicidal. Then suddenly, he is recalled to active duty after retiring. The rest of the file is scrubbed. It says he's doing Deep Space Radar Telemetry work. We have no idea what he's been doing. But I can guarantee it's dangerous."
"I know that, Al. I almost got killed today. I've got a concussion." Beckett pointed at his head. "And that's not all. I just spoke with a hologram that was threatening us. Called himself 'Ball.' I have one day to give something back that we stole. He claims he will burn the world to ashes in retaliation. What does that mean?"
"I don't know. Maybe he's some psycho with a nuke or a bunch of nukes somewhere. Maybe that's what you are here to stop."
"You've got to find out, Al."
"Look, this whole situation is an unknown."
"Why doesn't Ziggy know?"
If we knew the unknown, the unknown wouldn't be…unknown."
Al grimaced and gestured with his hands to say 'got it'? Beckett shook his head in frustration. What he didn't realize was that the security cameras were recording Colonel O'Neill talking to nothing and getting very upset doing it.
Major Carter stood at the foot of the Gate ramp waiting as a Tok'ra appeared and halted until granted permission to enter. He smiled broadly and hastened toward Carter.
"Hey Kiddo," Jacob/Selmak embraced his daughter. "You look more beautiful every time I see you."
"Thanks, Dad. Oh, Mark and the kids send their love. I saw them Saturday."
"Not to rush you, but what have you got for me?"
Sam grinned her evil smile. "A little something from Ba'al although we thought we had raided one of Anubis' labs. The Jaffa were Anubis' at any rate."
"That's disturbing. It means Ba'al is now working with Anubis."
"We think it has something to do with programming those super soldier things."
Selmak took over. "Then we have no time to lose. He will want it back."
"Already came calling," Sam answered. "Right there," she pointed to the bottom of the ramp. "Ba'al's hologram appeared demanding to speak with Colonel O'Neill. He gave us one day to return it or else."
"Then we had better get busy. How is Jack?"
"Head injury from the mission," Sam frowned. "He's talking to himself and can't find his way around. Janet sent for a brain specialist. He doesn't remember much."
"The Tok'ra can provide the memory recall device if necessary."
"Thanks, Dad," Sam smiled as they moved off to her lab.
(QL Facility, New Mexico)
"Yes, sir," the Guard to Project Quantum Leap facilities responded smartly with a salute to the visitors.
He had been alerted by security to expect the General and his retinue. What he didn't know was that they had just beamed to Kirtland Air Force Base in New Mexico from Washington, DC. From there, the convoy rolled up to the gate. Lieutenant General Paul Davis, who outranked Rear Admiral Al Calavicci, carried orders directly from the President. The battalion of Spec Ops forces proceeded to lock down the facility and get the perimeter surrounded. More and more troops arrived to make certain nothing else got in or…more importantly…got out.
Big hulking SFs preceded Lt. General Davis through the halls clearing his path. People scurried out of the way staring at the muscle parading through the halls, wondering who was so important. Al put down the phone in his office as the guards took up their positions outside the door and then inside. Lt. General Davis walked in. Al jumped to his feet at attention. He could be a hot dog in private but he was career military. From the phone call, he had just received his orders from the Joint Chiefs.
"Admiral," Davis greeted him softly. "Here are your orders from the President." He handed Al the letterhead papers enclosed in a specially secured briefcase ceremoniously opened and signed for. Al read the terse instructions. He nodded.
"Yes, sir," Al answered as a military subordinate. Then he left the room.
General Davis spoke into a COM link. A man beamed into the office.
"Dr. Jackson, welcome to Project Quantum Leap."
(SGC)
O'Neill/Beckett sat in his quarters. Dr. Fraiser decided that O'Neill shouldn't go home with a concussion but he could go to his quarters for a while. With Ba'al knocking on the door, O'Neill had to be handy. But O'Neill/Beckett was disrupting the Infirmary again. So he was confined to 'his' quarters where he was snooping through the drawers. Looking up he startled to see Al watching.
"Geez! What's the matter with you? Can't you just fade in, or something?"
"You tell me how to fade in a neurological hologram, and I'll make the cover of Scientific American!"
"Hurry up. Daniel is coming to visit in a minute. He's really smart and suspicious. Al, they ask me questions to which I have no answers."
"Well, we've been having some difficulty. Ziggy, he's, uh, going through mood swings. I think we need get a girl computer to put it right next to him, one with a nice set of hard disks.
"You would."
"And that's not all," Al poked at the hand device while holding a cigar between two fingers. "Colonel O'Neill tried to take out some guards. One is in the hospital. He had his hands around my throat before they could pull him off me." Al rubbed his neck and grimaced.
"Are you okay, Al?"
"I'll be fine. But the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sent his own goon squad to the lab once they heard we had Colonel O'Neill. It seems I am not allowed in there unescorted any more. There are some scary folks in the Waiting Room with him. They are monitoring everything." Al gestured wide with his hands, "This is big. Huge."
There was a short knock on the door.
"Just a minute," Beckett stalled. "I'm not dressed, yet." Whispering to Al, "I'm in some sort of underground facility. They keep talking about the 'Stargate.' What is it?" Al shrugged.
"Okay, Jack?" Daniel waited approximately thirty seconds and barged in.
"Hey, wait a minute," Al saw Daniel. "That's one of the guys sent over by the Pentagon." Al pointed at Daniel. "Dr. Daniel Jackson, but he looks much older now."
Daniel crossed his arms and sat on the chair by the computer game, smiling and gesturing over his shoulder, then wagging a finger. O'Neill/Beckett smiled briefly.
"Talking to yourself again, Jack? Mackenzie's gonna love this. Keep it up and I'll have to break in a new colonel." Daniel referred to the resident psychiatrist. "So I brought you the mission reports for signature. Hammond says you might as well get something done."
"Um, sure. I, uh, have to, um, pee." O'Neill/Beckett went for the bathroom door and shut it. Al appeared behind him. "Al, can I trust him?"
"The President does. That guy is a civilian in charge of a Special Forces escort, a Lt. General, and other heavies I can't identify." Al shook the hand held device. "Ziggy says Dr. Daniel Jackson is an…archaeologist?"
"What? Al? I saw the guy use a big machine gun fighting those other folks. He's no stranger to combat. I saw what he was doing."
"Two doctorates, he speaks 23 languages. His other degree is in anthropology. That can't be right." Al slapped the machine and squinted. "That's right. Seems he has some crazy theories about the pyramids being built by aliens. Anyway he disappeared about eight years ago in your time, and hasn't published anything since. Ziggy says his file is scrubbed, too. But they both live in Colorado Springs. Makes sense the Air Force has a big base there."
"This is not fair! I can't get my job done if I have no way to know what it is or could be or even where I am! Al you have to do something."
"Ok, you say this place is underground. What's underground near Colorado Springs?"
Together they blurted out, "NORAD!"
"Okay, that's a place to start." Beckett decided to actually pee. Al averted his eyes with distaste. "So, that would explain the Deep Space Radar Telemetry."
"In a pig's eye," Al muttered. "Dr. Jackson is not into radar or anything like it. Could he be excavating some ruin under NORAD?"
"Aw c'mon, Al. Be serious."
"I am serious. He was briefed before he arrived. The President signed my orders and had a Lieutenant General hand deliver them with a battalion of Special Forces. The whole facility is under lock down. We have nearly everyone from Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque surrounding the place and operating road blocks. The Governor went on TV to say a dangerous chemical spill necessitates closure of the area."
"Jack are you okay?" Daniel called into the room. He was pacing in the hall outside.
Beckett washed up. "Just figure this out."
He walked back into the room, passing through Al.
"Daniel?"
"Jack?"
"Daniel, let's talk about our next mission. How are the preparations coming?"
"Fine. Why?"
"Daniel?" O'Neill/Beckett took a seat on the bed and decided to brace against the wall at the head of the bead. "So what great archaeological treasure will we find this time?"
"Jack?"
"Daniel!"
"You know we are on down time for a week," Daniel huffed and pushed his glasses up. "The interview team is coming."
"Oh, right, I forgot. Who is it again?"
"Some guy named Bregman. He wants to interview each of us. Have you prepared anything?"
"No, why would he want to interview me?"
"Oh c'mon Jack," Daniel grinned. "No false modesty, you know they will want to spend the most time with you." Daniel grinned knowing he was jerking Jack's chain.
"Well, I'm going to be…busy."
"So you feel like getting something to eat?"
"Thought you'd never ask," O'Neill/Beckett got up. Daniel took him to the commissary, which was a good thing since Beckett had no idea how to get there and was hungry.
(QL Facility, New Mexico)
Al showed them into the Waiting Room. Upon entering, Lt. General Davis startled.
"That isn't Colonel O'Neill," stated Davis.
"Yes it is. He just looks like our Dr. Beckett to us."
"No, that's Jack. I can see him," Dr. Jackson said to Davis. "He's a little glowy."
"How is that possible? Only I can see what he really looks like," Al twisted to look at Jack again and back to Dr. Jackson. "Beckett can see my hologram. Oh, well, almost all animals can see me. But you know, there must be something weird lookin' about me, because I seem to intimidate them.
"Maybe it's your clothes," Gooshie snarked.
Dr. Jackson moved in to the room and gently sat on the Colonel's bed where he was restrained after attacking the guards. Jack's eyes fluttered open and focused with some surprise.
"Daniel?"
"Jack?"
"Tell me this is all a bad dream."
"Sorry, can't do that." Dr. Jackson demanded that the restraints be removed and the others leave the room.
"Thanks," Jack sat up rubbing his wrists. "What's going on?" Jack asked softly. He looked at Dr. Jackson carefully noting the crow's feet wrinkles at the eyes and the salt and pepper of his hair.
"It's just…" Dr. Jackson choked up with emotion. He coughed a small cough to regain control. "Oh God Jack, it's been so long."
"What?" Jack saw the emotion and knew it was his friend. "C'mere Space Monkey."
He opened his arms. The two embraced man style. No doubt about it, this was Daniel, but much older.
"We sure have a way of coming back from the dead, don't we?" Dr. Jackson half chuckled, breaking away.
"Well, you know," Jack trailed off. "Death is overrated." Dr. Jackson gave a guffaw knowing only Jack could come up with that statement at a time like this. "What's with the," Jack motioned at Dr. Jackson's grey hair. "Getting to look like mine."
"It's been ten years since you died. What is the date for you?"
Jack told him.
"Wow, then that's when…we lost you." Daniel smiled with watery eyes. "I missed you. It wasn't the same after you died."
"Now what? Am I going to suffer that Waterfall Cascade?"
"Entropic cascade failure, no, because you don't exist here and I'm pretty sure this is the same universe."
"Carter tell you that?"
"No," Dr. Jackson said softly. But his meaning was clear. Sam wasn't around anymore either. "I'm sorry Jack." O'Neill nodded stoically. "Ready? Okay, this is one of the craziest missions ever."
"Crazier than the time we stole a mothership?"
"Yep."
"Crazier than the time we strapped a working Gate to an F-302?"
"Yep."
"Crazier than going to Hell…Sokar-style…whatever?"
"Yep."
"Crazier than going back in time?"
"No. That's what this is, a time travel program."
"Oy, Carter's paradoxes and all that?"
"Yep."
"Ok, so what do we do?"
(SGC)
"Sam, we've got to find Anubis' base." Jacob reviewed the mission report. "We can't figure this thing out by the deadline. The smartest most efficient way to slow them down is to get to the breeding facility. We take out the queen and then we have more time to come up with a solution."
"We don't know where it is. And that 'thing' can't tell us."
"Oh yes he can. I've sent for the Tok'ra memory recall device. We can trick it into revealing the location of its homeworld." Jacob sighed. "I spoke with Teal'c. He asked Bra'tac to secure a cargo ship. In the meantime, we could use the device on O'Neill. Maybe that will spark his memories. But I don't want him along if he's not one hundred percent."
"That's great, Dad." Sam looked thoughtful, "He's going on fewer missions these days, anyway. I think they are grooming him to take over. He spends most of his time in briefings and running meetings for General Hammond."
"Well, I'm sure it's nothing. A couple of days and he'll be himself. Such a shame," Jacob laughed. "So how's Pete?"
"Fine, Dad. Let's get something to eat."
Meanwhile at Project Quantum Leap, a day had passed for Al but not for Beckett. Time did not move at the same rate in both timelines. Upon arrival, Dr. Jackson prepared to enter the Imaging Chamber. He had to talk to this Dr. Beckett. The whole situation was unnerving. Time travel was bad enough. But to seek to alter events deliberately went against everything he had believed. While the Admiral fussed with the technician, Gooshie, Daniel took in his surroundings.
"How do you know he will be able to see anything," asked Gooshie?"
"Need to know," answered Lt. General Davis.
"Well, I need to know. If more people can use this thing, I need to know."
"Let's just say that Dr. Jackson is 'special' and so is O'Neill."
"Special how?"
"Need to know." The General gave a dark look at the Admiral.
"Is that why you showed up with the whole damn Air Force, for Dr. Jackson…sir" asked Al?
The General kept his eyes on Dr. Jackson without answering. Al wasn't satisfied and knew he wouldn't get a better answer.
"Okay, I'm ready," announced Dr. Jackson. "Where's Jack?"
"Here," O'Neill answered coming through the door with a dozen SFs around him. "For me boys, you shouldn't have." He waved to the guards as he entered the Imaging Chamber and saw the others waiting for him.
"Two people can't use it at the same time," Al told Davis smugly.
"Wanna bet?" Davis had the smallest smirk. "Fifty bucks says they do."
"You're on. But let's make it really interesting, a hundred?" Davis nodded. Both men handed off a hundred dollars to a guard. "It's not that I don't want it to work, you understand, sir."
"Uh huh," Davis turned to Beckett/O'Neill. "It's good to have you here, Colonel. You've been missed."
"Thanks," Jack eyed the three stars on the general. "Good for you, Maj- er General Davis." Jack pointed to the shoulder epaulets and grinned. Jack turned his attention back to Dr. Jackson. "Here goes nuthin' because I got plenty of that."
Al stepped up to the platform to make certain the connection could be made and view the situation in the past. Sure enough, Beckett was in the commissary, eating with lots of people around. Al waved to get his attention. Beckett was digging into his food with gusto not having eaten all day and having thrown up what he did have earlier.
"Psssst! Over here!"
Beckett dropped his glass of milk. It went everywhere. He stood up as did Daniel, brushing away the liquid.
"Well, I'm not going to cry over it," Daniel quipped.
"Huh, oh, yeah, spilt milk, sorry, Daniel."
"Jack are you ok? I've never seen you eat that before much less drink milk."
"Oh, well, tastes change. Variety is the spice of life and all," Beckett saw Al was standing there and then his jaw dropped. An older version of Daniel stood side by side with him.
"Jack, Jack, JACK! What, what's happening?" Alarmed, Daniel spun O'Neill to look at him.
"We have to get out of here, now," Beckett stammered. "I-I feel sick." He pretended to cover his mouth and heave, running out the door.
"That went well," Dr. Jackson said sarcastically to Admiral Calavicci. "Now what?"
"Now I get a hundred smackers," gloated Davis.
"Gooshie, center us on him again," Al directed. He was a consummate professional, especially in front of a bunch of fly boys. "Okay, I see him. Hey Sam, I brought company."
"So I saw. Don't do that again without warning me."
"Dr. Beckett, I've got to speak to you where you won't be observed. So don't go into the corridors. There are cameras everywhere. Do you know where you are right now?"
"Sort of, some men's room near the cafeteria," Beckett answered Dr. Jackson.
"Okay, am I still hanging around?"
"I'll check," Al offered. "Gooshie I want to look around outside the john." Al stuck his head through the door and saw Daniel loafing in the corridor waiting for Jack. Popping his head back in, Al reported it.
"Okay, tell me," Dr. Jackson began and smiled ruefully, "…the other me…that you want to lie down for a while. Tell him you want to settle your stomach." So Beckett did just that. Daniel argued and then took off. Beckett ducked back into the men's room. "That was good. Okay, I'll direct you where I want you to go." So Dr. Jackson sent Beckett to O'Neill's office.
"Why here?"
"It's the one place no one will ever look for him. Long story," Dr. Jackson explained.
"Hey, that's not fair! I didn't even know I had an office," Jack groused.
"You knew you had an office, Jack. You didn't want the rest of us to think you did."
"You knew?"
"Jack."
"Daniel."
"Jack."
"What?"
"What?"
Jack shrugged and tried to peer into the Imaging area. His attention was already diverted. Dr. Jackson noticed and watched for a moment.
"These are the Jack O'Neill moments I miss so much," Dr. Jackson muttered to himself and loud enough for Jack to hear. He did and gently pushed Al to the side. "Okay, Jack and I can take it from here. Thank you Admiral. You can go now."
"You sure?"
"Admiral, this way please," Lt. General Davis gestured to the door.
Al sighed and shrugged. Turning to Beckett, he said, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And if you do, take pictures." Reluctantly, he left.
After he had gone, Dr. Jackson dismissed Gooshie, too.
"That was too easy," Davis chuckled counting his money.
"Yeah, you didn't tell him about Thor."
"You didn't either." Davis frowned. "Okay, I'll give it back, though it pains me."
Alone, with the three men, Dr. Jackson briefed Beckett on the nature of the work at the SGC. He provided an update about ongoing missions and upcoming situations. The four of them worked to determine the most likely reasons Beckett had leaped into Jack. Rather than risk missing some crucial moment and since time flowed differently for the men in the future, they also agreed that one of the three would continuously feed Beckett the information Beckett would need to impersonate Jack. Besides, they didn't want to keep adjusting the controls.
"You have a tough job," Dr. Jackson commented. "I guess you don't get much of a life doing this."
"I can't have a life. All I do is live someone else's life. I right their wrongs, I fight their fights - Geez, I feel like I'm Don Quixote."
"Hey, I felt that way when we first started fighting the Goa'uld. But we did manage to tilt a few windmills," Dr. Jackson admitted.
"Yeah, especially when I blew them up," Jack offered. "Aren't you forgetting one thing, DOCTOR Jackson? Hmmmm?"
"What?"
"Thor."
"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, Thor, right, um Dr. Beckett you should also know that we have made some friends who are rather advanced. And, well, they look like…"
"Roswell greys," Jack finished. "Big heads, little bodies, teeny tiny arms like twigs, Roswell."
"Aliens," Beckett gasped. "Real aliens?"
"Um yeah pretty much."
"Thor's a buddy," Jack waited for that to register. Beckett was in shock. "But he has a habit of taking me without asking."
"Taking you?"
"Beam me up Scotty," Jack pointed up. "He just doesn't get it. So, it could happen."
"Thor was AWOL at that time," Dr. Jackson argued.
"Yeah, he was dealing with Loki and other…matters," Jack replied. "Anyway, if we are screwing around with time, we can't say he won't show up."
"That's very good, Jack."
"Told you," Jack huffed through gritted teeth. "Anyway, if he's there, then it's a good bet it has something to do with Ole Doc Fraiser."
"Or, he could be there to save Airman Wells. Or he could be there to save you, Jack." Dr. Jackson turned to Beckett, "Jack took a hard hit from a staff weapon. He died from his wounds. So watch out for Jaffa."
Jack was confused. "Maybe he is there to save both Fraiser and me, or all of us, Wells too?"
"Yes," I suppose that could be true. Has that ever happened, Dr. Beckett, where you saved multiple people?"
"I don't know. I don't remember much about past missions. I have a Swiss cheese memory. I remember some things and not others. You'll have to ask Al." Beckett sighed heavily. "Ok, I know who Fraiser is. I know about Jack. But who is Airman Wells?"
Davis and Jackson brought him up to speed on the story. Beckett said he'd stay sharp and asked Jack for the combination to his locker and the passwords to his computer. He couldn't look as if he didn't know these things. Jack also gave Beckett his phone number along with other personal information Beckett would need. But he held back the base security codes for the nukes and self-destruct sequence.
For the rest of the day, Jack helped Beckett with the work piled up on his desk. Where a signature was required, Beckett traced an old signature, hoping it would look good enough. Jack cocked his head each time to assess it, and nodded when he approved.
"Not written in blood this time," Jack joked to Daniel.
"What," O'Neill/Beckett asked horrified?
"Right, the whole time travel future 'don't go there' note," Dr. Jackson agreed with Jack. "Creepy."
"You, too?"
"Hathor."
"Don't even go there," Jack had a shiver down his neck. "That was the second worst experience, I ever had."
"How you doing, by the way since all that?"
"Fine, fine, some nightmares," Jack answered. "Listen, I, uh…"
"No, no. Um. Sorry." Dr. Jackson hesitated and asked softly, "You were going to say?"
"No, it's just that, uh…Well…You know," answered Jack, putting a hand on Dr. Jackson's shoulder.
"No, I know. I know. You know that I…Thanks, Jack."
"I know…"
"What?"
Pondering for a moment Jack answered, "Huh?"
O'Neill/Beckett stared at the two old friends and couldn't make heads or tails of the exchange. But he did know they cared deeply for each other. He decided to trust his Daniel after that.
The next day at the SGC, Emmett Bregman and his film crew descended upon the mountain for more interviews. No one made it easy on him. Frustrated, he called the President, who had sent him in the first place to document the goings on in Cheyenne Mountain. Once his authority was straightened out, he set out to plague O'Neill until he could get an interview. O'Neill/Beckett did his damndest to avoid the erstwhile journalist. However, Bregman was walking with Colonel Tom Rundell his escort for the project when he spied O'Neill/Beckett. Jack groaned watching from the Imaging chamber at Project Quantum Leap.
("Heads up, Beckett, here comes a real pain in the ass. Just repeat what I tell you.")
"Sure, ok," whispered Beckett.
"Is that who I think it is," exclaimed Bregman to Rundell?
"It's Colonel Jack O'Neill," answered Rundell flatly.
O'Neill/Beckett moved more quickly towards the open elevator.
"Colonel O'Neill, hi, I'm…"
("I like vanilla over chocolate. My favorite color is peridot. I think Tibet should be free. And if I could have dinner with anyone in the world, it'd be Mary Steenburgen.")
What the F? Oh boy! Not breaking his stride, O'Neill/Beckett repeated, "I like vanilla over chocolate. My favorite color is peridot. I think Tibet should be free. And if I could have dinner with anyone in the world, it'd be Mary Steenburgen."
"No-no, I'm just trying…Mary Steenburgen?" Bregman was stumped.
"I think she's nice," answered Beckett ad libbing. He made it to the elevator as the doors were closing. Bregman tried to force his way inside.
"No, No! Look, I'm just trying to get a minute…"
"Look, I really don't have time at the moment."
"Can you…No, no, I'm—"
('Tell him you've got a briefing to go to.") "I have a briefing to go to."
"I understand, I'm Emmett—"
("Little weasel. Make him go away.")
Bregman offered his hand.
("Be obnoxious. I would.")
Beckett coughed into his hand and then offered it to Bregman. He moved to shake Bregman's hand, who pulled his own hand back, laughing good-naturedly. Bregman not to be deterred pushed the doors back. Trying to introduce himself and make his authority known, he said, "Now look, I'm not going to be able to get a perspective on this whole Stargate Program without you, Colonel. So when is a good time for you?
("Tell him to send a memo.") "Uh, any time's good. Just, uh, send me a memo."
O'Neill/Beckett pushed Bregman back far enough for the doors to close.
("Jack did you really do that," asked Dr. Jackson? "Send a memo?")
("Sure, why not?")
("That's so, so, just so…rude even for you.")
Jack shrugged not caring.
("Hey I heard you made him chase you around the SGC just to see if he would follow. Did he?")
("Um, yeah, he did.")
("See?")
("What?")
("It was fun wasn't it?")
"I think we should focus," O'Neill/Beckett whispered facing the wall of the elevator and faked a cough to cover it.
Ignoring him, Dr. Jackson turned to Jack, ("Mary Steenburgen?") He threw out his hands quizzically to say, 'what is that?'
("She's so hot.")
"Aw c'mon fellas, we don't have time for this," O'Neill/Beckett complained out loud once the last passenger got out. "I think I missed my floor."
("You're okay; just get out in two more floors,") Jack instructed and went back to his debate with Dr. Jackson.
"Okay now where to?"
("Control Room, they always have fresh coffee,") Jack casually answered continuing his argument with Dr. Jackson over how hot Mary Steenburgen was.
"Sir," Carter greeted him. "Did you do your interview, yet?"
"Yeah," O'Neill/Beckett sipped at his coffee then sniffed it. He found an object and removed it.
"Mary Steenburgen?"
This time O'Neill/Beckett knew the reply. "She's so hot."
Carter started to giggle at the Colonel's sense of mischief. Descending the staircase, Beckett took the opportunity to learn more about the film.
"Carter, can you tell me the reason for the documentary again?"
"Didn't you read the memo?"
("I never read my memos. She knows that. Let her know you know she knows…Ok that confused me.")
Becket shot her a look she acknowledged as a 'don't ask stupid questions' look.
"Officially, it's to chronicle the 1000th trip through the Stargate, but I think there's more to it than that."
"One-thousand you say?" ("Wow, that's a record!")
"I know. Hard to believe we've been at it this long."
("There should be a cake. Isn't that right, Daniel? I thought of that.")
"There should be a cake," said Beckett dutifully in character. He left her in the hallway to continue through the halls. To Jack he muttered, "I'm hungry, how do I get to the commissary? I was interrupted when you two showed up and I'm starved. Hey thanks for the backup. They were going to hook me up to something to jar my memories."
("Yes…At least we stopped Jacob from using the recall device.") Turning to Dr. Jackson he noticed the emotion. ("What?") Jack asked softly.
("That's something, Jack. It-it's just hard to see everyone again like this.")
Daniel coughed to cover his emotions.
In the meantime Jack took over. Jack directed him back, picking up some reports a team leader owed him to read over lunch. As it happened, Senator Robert Kinsey was on hand at the SGC to film his interview that day. He too wanted a snack. Blowing off the rest of his interview with Bregman who chased him into the commissary, Kinsey entered with his escorts in tow. Two forces of nature collided as Kinsey spied O'Neill. No love was ever lost between those two.
(Kinsey! Oh for crying out loud, not him!)
"What," hissed Beckett? He half-turned and saw his old nemesis. "Great, just great."
("Just say exactly what I tell you just the way I tell you," Jack commanded authoritatively.)
Beckett stiffened and glowered. Before Dr. Jackson could stop it, the altercation began as Kinsey walked up to O'Neill/Beckett sitting at the table with his back to Kinsey.
"Ah, Colonel! As I'm sure you know, I'm here to be a part of the piece these good men are putting together to document the fine work you're doing here at the SGC."
Not looking up because he was still watching Jack and Dr. Jackson huffing at each other, Beckett replied, "No, I didn't know that."
With a false chuckle, Kinsey tried to be affable. "Oh, well, I'm-I'm sure there was a memo."
("Memo, memo, I don't need no stinking memo to know you are a super grade A asshole, ya putz!")
What is it with these people and their memos?
("Beckett, you're on, go for it. Don't hold back. Take some pride in your work, son!") Jack launched into his rant.
While he did, Beckett looked over his shoulder and saw the film crew standing there in conference. He had a pretty good idea what O'Neill wanted him to do. He knew all about Senator Kinsey from the appropriations committee meetings which forced him to leap prematurely into the accelerator before the program's funding was cut off. Beckett had his own ax to grind with the Senator. He picked up on Jack's rant and ran with it.
"Well, did you tell them about the time you tried to get this place shut down? Or the time you had Hammond by the short hairs?"
Kinsey interrupted in a low, threatening voice. "I suggest you watch what you say, Colonel. Slander is a serious offense."
"Yes, so I hear," O'Neill/Beckett answered dryly.
The Senator glanced back and smiled again when he observed the camera crew. More loudly he continued.
"I have always been a strong supporter of this program. I admit I was critical in the past, but that was only because of the unrealized potential I see this operation as having."
O'Neill/Beckett closed the report on the table gearing up for his offense.
"How did your interview go, Colonel?"
O'Neill/Beckett stood up to deliver his diatribe man to man.
"It was short, yet, oh so sweet."
Glancing back at Bregman, who chuckled at O'Neill's response, Beckett knew this was going to be good.
Kinsey was oblivious. "The President wants you to play ball on this. I hope you're not intending to disappoint our Commander-in-Chief. I would think you would want to show your appreciation for his backing over the years."
O'Neill/Beckett was about to blow his stack. "Kinsey, what are you doing here? I mean, the last time anyone checked, you were trying to discredit the guy."
Sensing a dramatic moment, Bregman moved in to hear directing the crew to record the whole conversation. Everyone in the commissary watched, knowing the history between those two, not realizing it was between those three.
Kinsey determined to put a good face on things since the camera was rolling. He ploughed on. "His term is up. My running mate and I are merely pointing out to the American people certain areas that we think we can do a better job in. And when that time comes…I know we can count on your vote, Colonel."
"Yeah, that'll happen," O'Neill/Beckett answered with heavy sarcasm.
Thinking discretion was the better part of valor, O'Neill/Beckett moved to leave the commissary. Kinsey stayed in step, stopping him at the door.
"And I want you to know this. If elected, this program can count on our full support."
To the documentary crew, O'Neill/Beckett said, "You want to get this?"
Bregman shrugged, "Sure."
Taking a big long breath, O'Neill/Beckett let Kinsey have it. Jack was venting for all he was worth. Beckett barely heard all the things Jack was saying. He had his own message to give.
"You smarmy self-righteous, opportunistic, asshole. You are nothing but a coward you limp dick sonofabitch."
Klaxons blared drowning out much of the rant. The PA system called for O'Neill to go to the control room for an unscheduled off world activation.
Fuming, Kinsey managed to keep his cool enough to remind O'Neill, "Duty calls."
Turning to the film crew, a satisfied O'Neill/Beckett announced he was done and left.
("You did good in there," Jack said glancing at Dr. Jackson whose mouth hadn't quite closed yet. "Couldn't have said it better myself. I take it you know him?")
"Yeah, you could say that. He's the guy who screwed my funding in the first place."
("It's what he does," Jack frowned at Dr. Jackson, "What?")
"Old news, buddy"
("He's got you down to a science, Jack," Dr. Jackson sighed. "I'm going to take a break.")
("Fine, Beckett, find out what's going on." Jack directed as Becket made his way to the Briefing room.)
There he found Dr. Balinsky reporting breathlessly to General Hammond.
"Wells is alive, but he's hurt badly, and he can't be moved."
("Find out how many Jaffa there are.") "How many Jaffa?"
"Uh, Colonel Dixon counted six. They were able to fend them off. They're holding their position, protecting Wells."
("Get Jackson back in here. This is it as near as we can tell," Jack instructed Davis who moved quickly. Geez, I have to watch myself die. This sucks.")
Dr. Balinsky reported that the Gate was still clear and in control of SG-13. Hammond authorized SG-1, 5, 7, and Dr. Fraiser to go get the rest of SG-13 back along with the wounded Airman Wells.
("It's a trap," Jack snarled. "They know we'll come for our people.")
"It sounds like an ambush to me too, but there's nothing else we can do, right?" O'Neill/Beckett said it to Jack but Hammond thought Beckett was talking to him. Beckett frowned knowing he was going into battle again and this was the pivotal moment.
"Right, go," commanded Hammond.
This time O'Neill/Beckett was ready for what was coming. Plus, he had both Jack and Dr. Jackson to help. Even so, nothing was certain. He stepped through the Gate to P3X-666 to find a fierce firefight between the remaining members of SG-13 under Colonel Dave Dixon and airborne Goa'uld forces in both Al'kesh and Death Gliders pounding the ground. Jaffa fired from dispersed positions. O'Neill/Beckett ran to Dixon's position and took cover next to him to get the update.
"I was told you said there was six Jaffa! Where'd you learn to count?" An Al'kesh continued to bomb their position.
"The ships didn't start coming down until you radioed you were through the Gate," Dixon replied. He accepted the re-supply of ammunition from O'Neill/Beckett and went back to the fight.
All around there was chaos. The Goa'uld forces were there in overwhelming numbers. Dr. Fraiser radioed she couldn't move her patient until she could stabilize him. The airmen holding the Gate reported they were about to be overrun. And in that instant, O'Neill/Beckett took a staff blast to the stomach. He went down, unconscious with smoke curling up from his chest.
Teal'c and Carter saw it happen. Carter ran to him screaming, "Sir!" An Al'kesh passed directly overhead. Daniel reached Fraiser's position to help with Airman Wells, who was screaming in pain. The Jaffa assault obliterated the area around them. When the smoke cleared, Fraiser was down, staring up at the sky. Daniel radioed for reinforcements. Help arrived with several bazookas that pounded the enemy positions. Under constant fire, the SG Teams managed to fall back with their wounded through the Gate.
On the base, Richard Woolsey watched grimly and noted the botched rescue, costing tremendous resources just for one airman. One look at Hammond spelled political fallout. Hammond was beyond caring. Between Woolsey and the film crew he was ready to resign, comforted to know he got everyone back.
("When do I die, Daniel?")
("You were killed instantly when the Jaffa shot you.")
("I guess those ceramic inserts Dr. Lee was futzing with worked.")
("Yeah, good thing you all wore them, this time.")
("Thanks for suggesting it," Jack blew out his cheeks to relieve some tension. "I didn't die, so now what?")
("All I know is that if Beckett manages to change things, you zap back into…you.")
("So am I hurt or is he hurt?")
("Didn't I just say, 'All I know'…?") Daniel gave a nod and a look.
Jack frowned and went back to observing the situation.
(SGC)
Later in a private room, O'Neill/Beckett heard a knock. Gingerly he got up from his bed to finish dressing. He pulled his black t-shirt over his abdominal bandaging before admitting his visitor. Samantha Carter came in distraught. Her eyes were red from crying. She stopped, hesitating before saying anything.
Trying to be a good soldier she went for the bland statement of, "Sir, I heard you were up and around."
With a pained grunt, he faced her. "Yeah. Still a little tender, but they said I could go home."
Carter nodded. "We're lucky that staff blast hit you where it did. The new vest inserts work well."
"Didn't help everyone."
Trying to remain composed, Sam said, "Yes sir," softly.
"How's Cassie?"
"She's a strong kid. She survives. You know."
"Well, Fraiser will be back with her soon enough."
"I've got her over at my place in the meantime."
"That's good, Carter. So, you are speaking at the memorial?"
Fighting back tears, Sam blurted out, "Sir, I just wanted to say…when you were lying there, I…I'm really glad you're okay."
Then she lost it, openly weeping. O'Neill/Beckett did what he could. He opened his arms and said, "C'mere."
Gratefully, Sam embraced him. They stood there for a while holding on to each other. Finally, Sam took a step back, her face wet with tears. He looked into her eyes and saw longing. She sniffled and sighed. He felt the pull of the attraction. Without thinking, they joined in a profound kiss.
At that moment, blue streaks of light passed over Beckett and he leaped into a pregnant woman walking down a dirt road in a rural area.
O'Neill leaped back into himself, engaged in a lip lock with his second-in-command. His eyes widened. Then he pulled her in closer and continued.
Oh Boy!