Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate.

Captain Charles Mitchell - United States Merchant Marine Freighter Achilles - Personal Journal

July 17, 1939

We've been going in a zigzag pattern to avoid german U-Boats all the way from Britain. The cargo manifest tells me I'm hauling priceless Egyptian artifacts that want to be saved in case war break out, what crap. I've had a look and this giant ring is like no artifact I've ever seen, I don't have to be an archeologist to know that.

Damn Krauts seem to know more about what's on my ship than I do, what with the way they've been swarming us. Bosun swears he saw a periscope just the other day, and we've been getting course corrections from command every day. All they tell me is 'classified intelligence' as a reason.

I just hope nothing happens for just a little longer. We're going to meet up with a sub in the Arctic, if we're still in one piece that is.

February 4, 1996

Oval Office - Washington, DC

The old manilla folder stamped 'Top Secret' was contrast to the slick aluminum briefcases that normally held classified information. In fact, the yellowed papers contained the distinct characters of a type writer.

When first delivered to his desk by the Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force (CSAF) President Clinton knew he was going to have a long night. While the folder itself was not overly large that a second and third 'Top secret' had been stamped on, as if the first did not properly convey the message, had alerted the President that what he was about to read wouldn't allow for a good night's sleep.

Inside the folder were black and white pictures and reports of an archeological dig in Giza. At first Clinton was about to have his secretary contact the Air Force Chief to make sure he had given him the correct folder; after all, what could be so important about a bunch of Egyptian artifacts from thousands of years ago. Then he flipped the page, and found the 'Door to Heaven'.

The ring had an inner diameter of 6.7 meters and was a perfect circle. An inner track of symbols rotated independently from the rest of the ring, nine chevrons covered the inner track at perfectly even intervals around the ring. The ring was smuggled to the US to avoid it falling into nazi hands right before the onset of WW2.

The ring was of a completely unknown material that refused to have samples taken from. The scientists did not know if it was an alloy or even a new element back in the 40s, recent XRF analysis showed it to be both; alloy of containing many new elements. What they did know now was that the ring was a superconductor like no other. Carbon-14 dating of it's cover stones showed the ring to have been buried around 3000 BC.

Scientist all drew the same conclusion; there was no way the ring was made by the Egyptians.

Clinton' hands clenched the wooden armrests. Here, on his desk, he had potential evidence that man was not alone in the universe. That only now, several months since his inauguration, was Clinton hearing about the 'Door to Heaven' made him incensed. If not for constant petitions of one Catherine Langford, Clinton wouldn't have ever heard of the thing.

The President pressed a button to call his secretary, he arrived not a moment later.

"Nicholas, I need you to do some more digging into these files. Look for anything linked to Giza, a Ring with cover stones, and the name Langford," the President instructed his aid while already writing a letter on another matter entirely. "Oh, and contact the Air Force Chief, let him known he has the go ahead with Project Blue Book."

The secretary walked to the door, but gave a three count before leaving. Sure enough. "And have some lunch sent in too."

By the end of the day the Door to Heaven was being transported to Cheyenne mountain and the Stargate Program was initiated with the signatures of the President, the CSAF, and the Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff the project.

February 9, 1996

Alameda Room - New York City, NY

Doctor Daniel Jackson's life was going pretty far downhill. Granted, his life had never been very uphill in the first place. He bounced around foster parent to foster parent, his grandfather refusing to take him. Luckily he managed to secure his place in college on scholarship with a high GPA and SAT scores.

Ever since he had lived off the occasional book publish or college lecture, Jackson even worked at the University of Chicago for a while. That all stopped when he wrote The Truth About the Pyramids. What was he even thinking when he wrote it? What was his publisher thinking letting him sell it?

The evidence behind his beliefs were all solid, mostly. Many ancient civilization had many similar aspects, too many for coincidence, and suggested cross-pollination. Furthermore new dating proved the pyramids were older than originally thought, meaning everything known about the Egyptians needed rethinking. Maybe, just maybe, he had gone to far by suggesting the pyramids were alien landing platforms. But how else is society supposed to explain the unexplained without trying new ideas, no matter how ridiculous?

When Jackson expressed his beliefs in his latest book he was ostracized in the archeology society, no longer was he invited to lectures, asked to teach. He was doing his last lecture, scheduled before his book had been published. His grants had all long run out and he had been evicted from his apartment.

A sign stood at the entrance to the small but cozy room reading: Symposium Ancient Egypt—THE OLD KINGS and THE IVth DYNASTY, Alameda Room, 2-4 pm. An ugly mix of green and purple carpet lined the room. The hardwood floor haphazardly mixed in did nothing but make the sight worse. The fading, cracked white ceiling looked light it would smell of mold if one got too close.

"You see, the data shows that the pyramid have to be at least twice the now predicted age. The amount of decay seen in the carbon-14 clearly supports this fact," Jackson turned to advance his slides.

"..then there are symbols painted everywhere: names, titles of owners, lists of offerings." The sound of boots leaving let him know some where already done with him.

"Every other architectural structure at the time was covered with detailed hieroglyphics. When is the academic community going to accept the fact the pharaohs of the Fourth Dynasty did not build the great pyramids? Look, look—inside the pyramid, the most incredible structure ever erected, there are no writings whatsoever. And—"

"Doctor Jackson, you've left out that Colonel Vyse discovered inscriptions with Khufu's name—within the pyramid," said a man from the back.

Jackson began to raise a finger, but then turned to write on the board, "Well, his discovery was a fraud. Quite easily recognized too. The grammar and syntax is not consistent with any other Egyptian finding, instead its written just like modern english."

At this remark everyone started getting up and leaving the room. Some mutter comment like "What a joke" on their way out.

"Is everyone going to lunch or...?" Jackson awkwardly called out to the last man retreating through the solid double oak doors.

He walked out of the building, the night guard sticking to the no soliciting policy. The rain poured down hard on his coat, his hand failing to affect the downpour upon him. The humidity did nothing to help his allergies.

For a few moment he simply stood at the edge of the sidewalk contemplating what to do next. The noise of rain faded to a dull roar in the background, his eyes stared down at the grey concrete sidewalk beneath him. A car pulling up to him was not what he expected.

The car was almost long enough to be called a short limo. It hung close to the ground, the tires tucked snugly into their hubs. Every window was blacked out more than what he thought was legal. Jackson was thankful that the driver seemed to be considerate enough not to splash him by driving up to fast.

"Doctor Jackson?" An older woman called out to him. He hadn't realized the car door being opened.

"Yes?" Jackson unconsciously tucked his deteriorating suitcases closer to his body, yet not entering. They contained most of his worldly possessions.

"Sir?" The man in an Air Force uniform held the door open wider.

Daniel looked around, "Am I going somewhere?"

"You're going to be fine. We'll take care of these," the military man said.

The man took Daniel's shoulder bag as well as the two suitcases. Daniel sat in the car, decided the nothing too bad could happen with the military, he hoped. He warily looked at the older woman in the car. She passed over a photograph of a smiling couple playing with a baby. He recognized the couple from when he was a teen.

"Jackson, are those your parents?" She asked in a nice voice, her eyes give the same feeling.

"Foster parents," he affirmed cautiously.

The woman continued to look through a file. He saw his certificate from UCLA. Credit reports and other financial files.

"Am I in trouble?" Daniel finally asked.

"Just a job," she replied without looking up.

Daniel nervously chuckled," Yes, but what kind of a job?"

"Translation. Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. Interested?" That time she did look up, smiling.

"I-I'm gonna go now." No way did anyone want him for something related to archeology.

"Go where? I mean, you've just been evicted from your apartment. Your grants have run out. Everything you own are in those two bags. Want to prove that your theories are right? This is your chance." She gave him an envelope. From the feel there wasn't anything heavy inside.

"What's this?"

"Travel plans."

"Sir?" The man had once again opened the door without his notice.

Daniel looked back at the woman, who give him a small smile. He raised his hood again and stepped out of the car. He didn't move for long after the car was gone.

February 10, 1996

NORAD/USNORTHCOM - Cheyenne Mountain Military Installation and Nuclear Bunker

The same Air Force man met Jackson at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain, there he learned the man's name was Major Charles Kawalsky. Daniel tried to think what the Air Force could have in NORAD that would need translations of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, but came up empty. And why did they want him? What did the woman, Catherine Langford he had been told, mean when she said he could prove his theories right?

The Major led Daniel to the elevator and pressed button 28. He didn't think that NORAD would have that many levels. Daniel luckily grabbed a Kleenex from his pocket before sneezing violently.

"Cold?" Asked the Major.

"Allergies, they get worse when I travel. What is this place?"

"Old nuclear silo. Been completely converted, don't worry."

Daniel was led through tunnels of concrete and metal supports to a room marked off with large letters forming 'RESEARCH LABORATORY' and 'Authorized Personnel Only'. Inside the room were large cover stones suspended in air inscribed with hieroglyphs and other symbols. An outer ring was made up of about a dozen individual trapezoids surrounding a perfect circle.

"Okay, Jackson." Daniel was so enthralled by the artifacts that he hadn't noticed Catherine Langford in the room.

"Oh.. Hello! This is uh... Where'd you find it?"

"Giza plateau, 1928."

Another man from the back of the room spoke up, "Now there's two lines of hieroglyphs. The inner track has the classic figures, but the outer track is like the cartouche in the center. It's got writing unlike what we've ever found before."

"Those aren't hieroglyphs, hieratic or maybe cuneiform," Jackson mumbled back, already working on the translation."Well, the translation of the inner track is wrong. Must've used Budge. I don't know why they keep reprinting his books."

"E-excuse me? We've used every known technique," said the same unknown person.

"That's a curious word, to use, eh, 'Quebeh'? Then an adverbial sedjem-en-ef with a cleft subject. Then 'Sealed and buried'," Jackson began crossing off words and translations, adding his own. "Who translated this?"

Everyone in the room looked over at the man that had talked to Jackson.

"Myers," someone else informed Jackson of the man's name.

Daniel finished up his translation, "A million years into the sky is Ra, sun god, sealed and buried for all time... It's not 'door to heaven'...
Its 'His Stargate'."

"So why is the military interested in 5,000 year old Egyptian writings?" Daniel asked.

"New report says some are 10,000," informed a man in an Air Force uniform that had just walked in. His uniform said Colonel Jack O'Neill.

"That's-that. Egyptian Culture did not exist that long ago!? What about the tomb underneath?"

"No, no, no. We found something much better," this came from Myers.

"Excuse me. This has become classified, top secret. Nothing goes to civilians without my express permission," the Col. turned and left the room. Langford was hot on his heels.

Converted Nuclear Silo - Cheyenne Mountain Military Installation and Nuclear Bunker - February 22, 1996

Jackson had finally figured out the other symbols on the cover stones.

"You see, they don't translate to words like we were thinking. They are all constellations! Earlier in the cartouche there are references of an address, strange because postage didn't come around until the Pharaonic Age in 2000 BC. I don't known what purpose it serves, but somehow to the Egyptians these series of seven coordinates form a address to somewhere!" Jackson had started talking faster and faster as he lectured, and now was wheezing hard enough to warrant the use of his inhaler.

"Seven?" Asked O'Neill.

"Well there are six in the designated address spot. Just below is a seventh, interesting because there are small scratches next to it. It doesn't seem natural, roughly looks like hieroglyphs for... home location? No, no, no... Point of Origin!"

"He's done it," Langford whispered across the stunned room.

"Done what?"

"Show him," O'Neill instructed.

An Air Force officer in the corner of the room pressed a large red button on the wall. The metal blast door to the side of the room began retracting. A large glass window was show, behind it was large room with a ramp leading up to a large ring. It's dull grey colors were in contrast with the orange chevrons spaced around it. An inner track contained symbols, a few of which Daniel could recognize from the cover stones.

Jackson walked up to the glass, resting his hand against it, "What is it?"

"It's your stargate. Come, Jackson," explained Langford.

Daniel followed the mass of people leaving the conference room to the control room below, computer screens filled the room.

"We've been trying combination after combination. Sometimes of the six from the cover stones, other times just random one of five, six, seven, eight, even nine. The closest we've gotten is intense shaking before the thing shuts down," a technician explained from one control chair.

"How did you manage to interface our computers?" Daniel asked in wonder.

"It's actually amazing. The stargate seems to learn. We started out by manually turning the chevrons to line up with symbols and each time we would send a specific signal into what we believe is a control interface on the bottom. It now knows which signal means which symbol, and we can have it dial remotely from our computers. The problem is it has sent us back information in its own signals and data and we can't make heads or tails of it."

"Doctor Jackson," said Col. O'Neill. "We can't find your seventh symbol anywhere in the inner track."

Daniel looked up to one of the monitors. He watched as it followed the spinning inner ring of symbols. "Stop it right there!" The cover stone had a stylized point of origin with two men on both sides, the symbol on the stargate missed the two men. Grabbing a marker Daniel begun adding them to the monitor.

"Hey! Don't do that!"

"Call up General West. We have the address," O'Neill instructs anther officer.

February 23, 1996

Oval Office - Washington, DC

President Clinton was reading the report from General West. This Doctor Jackson seemed to be a miracle worker for the project. They'd made a connection to the other stargate but were waiting before they did anything more.

The fact that West wanted a nuclear bomb as a backup plan troubled him, though. The real number of nuclear weapons in the US arsenal was only known to a small group of people, but that still meant that more people would have to be let in on the project if he authorized the deployment of one. Even worse, the General did not seem that concerned with the amount of firepower he was requesting, not to mention his tone made it seem as if the stargate would be a one way suicide mission.

It was getting very late, Clinton hadn't noticed the time pass by so quickly. The Oval office barley being illuminated by a few of the green-energy light bulbs, they made him look better to the tree huggers. His secretary bursting through the door was not what he was expecting. For one the man called in for one of his days off, secondly he normally knocked first.

"Mr. President, I have something your gonna want to see," Nicholas Weeks sputtered out like he had run all the way to his office. Knowing him he probably had been.

"Nicholas what have you been doing on your day off? You know your supposed to actually not do work on your day off," Clinton couldn't help but laugh at the guilt expression Nicholas gave.

"Sorry Mr. President," Nicholas replied.

"When will you call me Bill," the President muttered under his breath. Nicholas refused to address his personally, Clinton thought he was doing it on purpose for the laughs.

Nicholas led the president to his office down the hall from the Oval Office. The normally clean and organized space was littered with old manilla folders, papers, black-and-white photos, VHS tapes, and even the old fashioned giant film rolls. Set up next to the desk was a film projector for the film rolls, a sheet hung from the wall on the other side of the room.

"I had to head down to the pentagon to get this. It was oddly filed away under nuclear weapons research during WW2. It was hard to find, I'll tell you. No records of file transfers, no references in any of the databases," Nicholas explained while putting film into the projector.

"How'd you find it then?" Now the President was very interested with what he had found.

"I couldn't at first. Everything to do with this ring was swept under the rug pretty hard; luckily they didn't destroy the records just made everything so hard to find they might as well have burned it all," said the secretary. "This stuff was filed under 'restricted data', that's why I had you call the pentagon to allow my access."

Nicholas finished putting the film in the old machine, "I'm getting ahead of myself. It really started when I looked into Catherine Langford. She had a fiance named Ernest Littlefield, he just disappeared without any sort of investigation, kinda odd for a military officer. He was said to have died in an accident by Catherine's father, but there is no evidence or real details other than he died."

"What happened?"

"That's what I wanted to know. I knew about when the accident happened so I went down to the Pentagon to look through some of the files kept there. It took me hours to find his files, it was like someone had tried to make him disappear. In his filed I came across vague references to something called Project Giza. Several more hours later and I came upon all this stuff you see around my desk."

President Clinton leafed through one file in the large pile. Inside were designs for a kind of scuba gear, air tight and designed to hold up in severe conditions, "So?"

"They made it work!" Nicholas whispered. He looked left and right, noticing the secret service man outside the door, "They got the thing to activate, it had this blue puddle form after a vortex shot out first."

"What!?" That was almost the exact description Clinton had received from General west earlier that day.

"Yes! And they sent Littlefield through too, seventy years ago! He didn't die in an accident, whatever the device is supposed to do did it to him! Disintegrate, transport, I don't know! Look!" Nicholas grabbed a hat from his desk and put it over the camera in the corner, he then moved to close his office door after hitting the play button on the projector.

They both watched entrapped as a man in what looked strikingly like scuba diving gear walked through the ring from Giza. President Clinton felt like he might have a heart attack when he saw the air tube being cut off when the stargate shut down.

Nicholas slowly reached over and shut off the humming projector, "They manually dialed the inner ring like an old telephone. Here, I wrote down the combination for you."

Clinton reached over to accept the pice of paper. His eyes jumped out of his sockets when he realized the address was different than the one Doctor Jackson had discovered.

February 23, 1996

Briefing Room - SGC

General West had called the main stargate personnel into the briefing room.

"New orders directly from the President. Investigations through Jackson's address have been postponed," the General explained. Disbelief and outrage filled the room. "Some pencil pusher up in Washington finally got off his desk and did some work, he found this."

The General passed out pictures of the stargate activated, with a man walking through, "These were taken in 1945 when the stargate was being investigated for weapons research under Roosevelt's orders. The stargate was successfully dialed to an address different than the one provided by Doctor Jackson, and one Ernest Littlefield was sent through. After all contact was lost the project was shut down and hushed up."

Catherine Langford's gasp drew the room's attention.

"He was my fiance," she explained through tears, "They told me he died in an explosion."

"A small probe will be sent through. If the gate is truly a transportation device we will use radio and video to make contact with Mr. Littlefield, if he is still alive. The machine will also investigate the other side of the gate in hopes of finding a return address for our gate," explained the general.

"Chevron 1 is locked... Chevron 2 engaged... the gate is accepting power at 32% our maximum capacity," read out one technician.

The inner track of the stargate spun until it erupted with an unstable vortex after the last chevron engaged over a symbol.

"Send in the probe," instructed General West.

The machine rolled up the ramp and through the puddle like event horizon of the stargate. In a fraction of a second the machine reached its destination. Video showed a large stone room with a ramp leading up to the stargate. The remains of a diving helmet were off to one side, expertly carve pillars and other features dominated the room. Sensors began spewing put data, atmosphere, gravity, air pressure, etc.

Approximately ten feet in front of the probe was a large metal pedestal. Only a red dome shaped object could be seen on top of it. As the probe rolled forward and extended its camera higher symbols on the pedestal could be seen, as could damage to the central red dome underneath which was many crystals of various sizes.

A flashing warning on the monitor allowed the operator back in the earth control room know that someone else had entered the room and was caught by the motion sensors.

The camera rotated to show an old man completely naked except for the dog tags around his neck. He was only recognizable to Catherine Langford, he looked completely different from the picture they had just seen of him.

Ernest approached the machine like a caveman first seeming fire. He reached out for the camera but jerked away when the operator rolled the probe back a meter.

"Mr. Littlefield, can you hear us?" asked the General into the microphone.

"Hello? Where are you? Are you in this thing?" Ernest replied warily.

"Mr. Littlefield I am speaking with you over radio. Radio was around back in 1945, yes?"

Ernest looked a little embarrassed over his earlier question, "Yes, radio was invented. Are you real? I'm not imagining this... Who are you, are you from Earth?"

"I'm General West of the United States Air Force, yes I am real, and yes I'm on Earth. Where else would I be?"

Ernest pointed up, "I don't know much about astronomy, but there is stars the likes I've never seen. I know this is not the sky I looked up on when I was a kid."

"Mr. Littlefield are you in need of any immediate medical help? Please understand that without a guaranteed way back we cannot send anyone through to you, but we can send supplies," the general told Ernest.

Ernest look resigned but in a way that showed he expected this, "I'm not hurt. Been real careful with myself, knowing I'm all on my own. I could do with some food. I've gotten to old to really hunt for anything, and the last storm took out the plants I had growing."

"We will have something sent through right away Mr. Littlefield. Is there any indication in the ruins of a return address for the stargate? We have a linguist with us that could help translate so we could find a way back home."

"There are writings like hieroglyphs on the walls. They're newer and look like they've written over something else. In the farthest back part of this castle is a device that projects light up in the air. It took me a while, but I realized they were atoms. More atoms than I knew existed, but still. The device seems to use the atoms as a bridge between four other languages in that part of the castle. I've collected lots of notes in my book here, from what I can understand this was a meeting place between four people which created a great alliance."

Doctor Jackson came over to the monitor, "Mr. Littlefield, we found a cartouche in Egypt that led us to one address already. It's very possible that the Egyptian like writings could have something similar. Could you please bring the video camera from the probe over to the writings so I could translate?"

"Camera? I don't see any camera on this thing"

"Oh.. yes, um. There is a small hand sized device attached to a rail on the machine's arm. It has a piece of glass on its front, remove it from the rail and point the glass at what you want to show me"

"Magnificent..." mutter Ernest as he examined the device.

The gate shut down after thirty-eight minutes, causing panic throughout the engineers. After reestablishing contact and checking the computers it was decided that the gate had some sort of time limit. Through several hours Dr. Jackson had managed to go through a significant amount of translation from the inscriptions on the walls, but nothing concerning gate addresses. Jackson read the tale of the sun god, Ra, who ruled a large domain and dominated his brethren after many battles and wars. Most of the writing was lavish praise for Ra and his amzingness.

After two more gate dials Dr. Jackson had finished the translations about RA, yet none of the sections seemed to be what they were looking for.

"Ernest. If this follows the normal progression of Egyptian record keeping there should be another cartouche writing this area. In fact this looks just like one of the temple digs I went on in Egypt, there should be a whole section of cartography if it follows the same pattern!" exclaimed Jackson.

"This hallway goes to another room, but its collapsed and I'm too old and weak to climb up and over the rubble any longer."

General West immediately sent in a request for additional hardware to be sent through the gate, while food was sent through for Ernest.

Within one day a new probe was lunched through the gate. The small cylinder shaped like machine was just two wheels and an axle. It was was not easily stuck and had small camera attached for the operator to remotely control it.

"General we've sent the UGV through and Ernest is throwing it over the debris now. It's dark, switching to infrared."

"Doctor Jackson, your on," said the general.

Daniel put on his glasses before beginning his translations, "Okay so here we have.. okay I think this is for Ra's home world. It talks of how he for some reason could no longer take hosts from the people there. That's weird, that verb doesn't mean host as in a mortal hosting a god but as in being host to an infection of a disease. I'll go back to that later."

"We could be looking at some king of parasite here," General West said in thought.

"Wrath of Khan..." Muttered O'Neill resulting in the room to staring at him, "Anyone? No?"

"Okay here we go. It says 'Ra traveled the stars until he came upon the Tau'ri, the people of the first world, he came down from the sky and everyone fled before him and his power except one young boy'. Because of the bravery of this child he allowed the child the privilege of being his first host. From this world his spread his dominion over many others, but the first world would be the seat of his power because it contained his main work force," translated Jackson.

"Obviously something happened because we're here, he's not, and we're not enslaved as a 'work force'," said General West.

"We'll yes, but this is must have been before the stargate here on earth was buried. I-I, surely there would be some evidence to what happened. Perhaps, wherever the other address leads to," Jackson explained as he read from the walls. "Stop! there!" Daniel yelled while pointing to the screen.

"Those are addresses and right... there! Tau'r: those of the first world. It's Earth's address, we can go through the stargate and come home! Ernest can come home!" Jackson quickly began writing down the addresses from the screen until the operator told him the footage was being recorded.

General West began giving out orders to various Air Force officers around the control room. Generators were to be sent to power gate on the other side. A forklift would be sent to retrieve the odd looking pedestal. Much was to be done.

Combat History - Colonel Jonathan J. O'Neill

Date of Birth: October 20, 1952

Residence: Colorado Springs, CO

- See attached for latest medical examination -

Colonel O'Neill joined the USAF during the Vietnam War and graduated with recognition for his academic excellence. His laid-back, sarcastic, and often immature attitude is a front for his true intelligence which has allowed him to take advantage of those who have underestimated him based on initial impressions. Colonel O'Neill saw combat in Vietnam but was quickly moved between various black operations after superiors recognized his natural abilities.

In 1980 on the borders of Iran and Iraq Colonel O'Neill suffered a fractured skull as a result of a faulty parachute, regardless he managed to complete his assignment during Operation Silent Guardian and made it to his extraction point were he received emergency medical attention before being transferred to a military hospital.

A black-ops mission in East Germany, 1982, was compromised by a double agent within the CIA and Colonel John Michaels was killed in action. Separated from his squad O'Neill infiltrated the compound he was set on to overwatch and managed to extract vital intel on the movement of nuclear weapons by the USSR within East Germany. He killed an unconfirmed report of fifteen KGB agents before escaping to link back up with his team.

Colonel O'Neill was wounded and unable to continue his mission during the Gulf War and left behind by Colonel Frank Cromwell. He was subsequently captured and sent to an Iraqi Prison where he spent four months enduring harsh torture.

Colonel O'Neill entered retirement following the death of his son and the divorce of his wife.

Physiological Report - Colonel Jonathan J. O'Neill

Colonel O'Neill displays signs of depression and blames himself for the death of his son. Colonel O'Neill's son found his father's gun unlocked and accidentally shot himself, he was dead before arriving at the hospital. He shows signs of slight Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and probably has flash-backs and nightmares. His greatest regrets seems to not be those he has killed but the comrades that have died under his command. (Note #1 - He only regrets situations where he believes he could have made better decisions and is the direct result of his teammates death's. To him fatalities are sometimes unavoidable, it is only possible to reduce the possibility through good leadership.)

Colonel O'Neill wife abandoned him following the death of Charlie and Colonel O'Neill no longer seems to have anything to drive him in life. He seems to stubborn to me for suicide, not willing to give up no matter what; but is a shell of what past reports paint him to be. I would't be surprised to see him come out of retirement in order to have a purpose again with the military.

(Note #2 - Soldiers in this kind of situation have shown to be willing to engage in missions with little chance of survival, believing they will die for the good of their country and have nothing at home to hold them back.)

A/N: Stargate has always been one of my favorite shows, but looking back on many of the episodes I can't help but scratch my head and ask why? I had originally written out a long list of plot holes and other annoying problems with the series in a long rant below. I've recently come to my senses and decided that most of you probably don't care and just want a story. Anyways, my thoughts on the series led to this story unfolding in my head.

Thank for reading! Please leave a review or favorite if you want :)!