Epilogue

I'm on a mission. My first official mission as Ambassador to the Asgard. One of their protected planets has finally become technologically advanced enough for the Asgard to make their presence known. These humans aren't as advanced as Earth by any means, but they're smart enough to understand that their Gods are really just very intelligent aliens who have been protecting, and deceiving, them for years. My experience with SG-1 in first contact was called upon to act as liaison between the unsuspecting humans and their beloved Gods.

I've been back for over a year now, and my voice has more or less returned to normal, though it's still difficult to shout. I found this out when Jacob pulled another bone-headed acrobatic stunt that scared ten years off my life. And he had the nerve to laugh about it. I swear, if my hair wasn't already white, it'd be getting gray hairs by the fistful. Or…no, that isn't right. But you get the idea.

Anyway, at least I can speak properly now, and I use my voice to its full extent, much to the amusement of the kids, and, I'm sure, the exasperation of my wife. Yep, my wife, Sam Carter-O'Neill. I love the sound of that. So worth the wait.

So I'm sitting aboard Thor's ship, the Enterprise, going over the intel about the people I'm about to introduce to the Asgard. I've been taking my duties as ambassador very seriously, even tried to learn their language but it was a lost cause. Just isn't my thing, and there's no way I could ever get my mouth to make the crazy sounds of their language.

Sam and I were given a tour of the Asgard homeworld during the first weeks of my indoctrination to the world of diplomacy, and Carter's eyes about sprung from her head when they showed us a new ship they're building. It's magnificent, a real work of art, equipped with the latest defensive shields, the fastest engines, and the biggest honking space guns you could imagine. Oh yeah, the Carter-O'Neill is a real beauty. There's an entire philosophy devoted to the choice of this particular designation, but I try to ignore it. The idea of an Asgard-Tau'ri marriage is a little disturbing.

Back to the point, at a recent council meeting they brought up the topic of this planet currently spinning peacefully just below us, unmarred by the galactic warfare of the last few millennia. A haven of safety thanks to my buddies. They were discussing how they should first introduce themselves to their 'children', when I made the offhand comment that maybe seeing a human with their Gods might reassure the Allusians. I kid you not, they call themselves Allusians. My little grey buddies were less than amused when I quipped, "So do you suppose they're alluding to the fact that they're really illusions?" Sometimes I can't help myself, my mouth is making up for all the jokes I missed out on during my captivity and forced muteness, and it is by no means prejudiced in its selection of what constitutes for an appropriate or an amusing or even a good joke.

So anyway, my suggestion (of a human presence at first contact, not my interpretation of their name) was immediately recognized as the brilliant and wise plan that it is, and the next thing I know I've been volunteered for the job. So here I am, planning first contact with a planet of human beings at about the technological and social development of the United States in the early 1900s. I better not see anybody doing the Charleston, I don't think I could take it.

I'm dressed in the familiar and comfortable green battle fatigues that I wore offworld with SG-1, however, and despite my strongest protests, I'm armed with only my cane. Oh yes, I'm a great first impression, old man with a bum leg and white hair vainly covered by a faded green baseball cap. The better to lull you into a false sense of security, my dear, yes allow me into your home and don't mind my bright wide eyes and big teeth. Or is it come into my home? Dang, I just read this to the kids, which is it?

They drop me off in front of the Stargate, alone, unarmed, and facing the curious hoard of those nearby who had witnessed my descension, or materialization from thin air, depending on your point of view. I feel like I'm missing my arm as I fight the urge to rest my arms on a P-90 that isn't there. What was I thinking? This is crazy, did they not see my diplomatic skills with the people of K'Tau? I mean, we practically blew up their sun and I still couldn't convince them that they were going to die if they didn't leave.

"Hi."

Oh yeah, knock 'em dead with your impressive rhetoric, O'Neill.

One of the younger men steps forward, dressed in a rather impressive black suit, looking remarkably like Daniel at a funeral. Okay, bad example. "You appeared from nowhere." He is appropriately in awe of me. Or, my entrance. Whatever.

I fight the urge to say, 'Take me to your leader' and instead I stand up straight as I can, looking important and strong, and say, "I am here as a liaison to the Asgard. They have asked that I deliver a message to your people. They'd like to meet with you folks, face to face."

Of course, they look at me like I'm crazy.

"Then why not come themselves? Why send you?"

"Hey, I'm just the messenger. My people are allies of the Asgard, they thought I might be able to convince you of their sincerity."

"If you are allies of the Gods, then you must be a God yourself."

"No. I'm not a God. And neither are the Asgard. That is why they have come to speak with you. Your planet has been under the protection of the Asgard for many…uh, centuries, and you have therefore enjoyed a freedom that was rare in this galaxy. They believe you are ready to hear the truth of their existence."

An older man comes forward out of the gathering crowd, and studies me curiously. "You speak as though you are from another world. Yet you did not come here from through the Stone Circle."

"I'm from a planet called Earth. You may know it as Midgard." I decide not to tell them about spaceships and interstellar travel.

"The home of our ancestors." He nods approvingly.

"Your people were brought to this world by the Asgard many centuries ago, to protect you from a threat to Earth by false gods. They have kept your planet safe, so that you may live by your own choosing. They tell me they are proud of your accomplishments and are eager to meet you."

"You claim that the Gods speak to you. What is your name, old man?"

I scowl at the condescending tone of the younger man, as well as the name he's bestowed upon me. But before I can say anything else a woman practically falls out of the crowd in her desire to get closer to me. She gapes, and inches closer, peering under the brim of my cap to see my face. I stand perfectly still as she reaches out and removes my hat.

She gasps, and starts trembling. "It is Guardian."

Okay, so I didn't know what to expect when I came here, but it surely wasn't that. So I stare back.

Another man pushes himself out of the crowd and joins the woman, and I realize I know them both. They are the parents of the girl who was almost raped, for whom I initiated our rebellion from that hellhole. The man is obviously more skeptical than the woman. "Guardian could not speak."

"Because he wasn't allowed, that man stole his voice," she argues passionately. "I'm right, aren't I? You are Guardian, I know it."

I don't know what to do. This isn't why I'm here. But apparently my speechlessness confirms my identity because the next thing I know I'm getting the stuffing hugged out of me. My arms automatically wrap around her shoulders, and I realize she's crying, her tears soaking my chest. "How is your daughter?" I ask, sincerely hoping that she is fine.

That makes the woman sob harder. "She is well, thanks to you. We are all well, because of you." She pulls back a little. "You disappeared, and we did not know what had become of you."

I smile at her. "I went home."

She finally pulled out of my arms, a little embarrassed, wiping at her tears, and waved her arm at the Stargate. "As did we. We never thought we'd see you again. It was almost as if…we thought that maybe…" She looks up. "And you were indeed with the Gods. They sent you to protect us. Now you have rejoined them in your rightful place among the stars."

The other two men are watching us with interest now, and the older asks, "This is the man you spoke of? The man who brought your people out of the darkness of that world and vanished, as though he had never been?"

"He is the Guardian," she confirmed. "A great man who saved our people, who took great pains upon himself to defend our sisters and young ones. He gave up his freedom to save our lives. He was indeed a message from the Gods."

"Then you believe he now speaks the truth about the Gods."

"He is the Guardian. He is a man of honor. His actions are his words, and we should listen to all he has to say. We did not listen the first time, and we suffered for it. I trust this man with the life of my daughter. He will speak the truth."

By now the crowd has grown so that not an inch of the field near the Stargate was remains untouched except for a three meter radius around me, the woman and the three men. I was about to interrupt their discussion about me by explaining the truth, but for the first time, I could truly understand why the Asgard had allowed these people to believe they were true gods.

This woman felt blessed. Because of me and my actions. Because of the idea of the Guardian, that I might have been a gift from some higher power that wished to ease her suffering and to help her through a difficult time. This thought gave her comfort, and a sense of belonging perhaps, for it meant that she had not been left there to die, that she was there for a purpose, that there was a lesson to be learned. And now she would share that lesson with others, she would show them what I had taught them, not with words but by her actions. And so the spirit of the Guardian never dies, it lives on among the people who suffered with me long after I am gone.

And that's enough to make any man proud.

"The Asgard would like to meet you." I say, appearing indifferent despite the knot in my throat. "They are not Gods, but they have protected you and asked for nothing in return. They have allowed you to maintain your free will, and have given you control of your destiny. Will you accept them in their true form, as loyal guardians of your world? Or will you reject them for their appearance, despite their actions that have given you such freedom in your world?"

Now we shall see how well they have listened to the wisdom of the Guardian.

The older man looks around at his people. "We have always felt safe here under the protection of the Asgard. Our ancestors were brought to this safe haven, and we have continued to enjoy our freedom. As you say, we have always had the right to choose our faith, and our way of life. We have never felt threatened here. I would be honored to meet those responsible for the security of our world. As I am honored to meet you." He looks me straight in the eye as the others around us shout out their agreements.

I nod my head slightly, acknowledging their decision. "Then I guess my work here is done." I reach for the Asgard crystal in my pocket to tell my buddies aboard the Enterprise that it's their cue for the big entrance and my exit.

The woman reaches out to grasp my arm, almost pleadingly. "What is your name?"

I smile at her, and just before I'm surrounded by white light and transported to the ship I tell her-

"I am the Guardian."

The end. Again.


Author's Note: Someone gave me a great idea to tell the next story from several different viewpoints, rather than just Sam's. I think I may do that, but the majority would be Sam's. It will also deal more with Jack and Sam's relationship, although I usually tend to avoid that kind of stuff since it's been so overdone. But I'll try my best. It will be posted separately as 'The Guardian's Wife' but it could be weeks or months before I get it out.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, and feel free to keep them coming in if you have any ideas for the sequel. Or if you just want to make me feel all warm and fuzzy with kind words.

Bixata