Time Travel Alphabet Soup
My thanks to the 24 authors who wrote 27 different fics to make Time Travel Alphabet Soup a reality: Antonomasia, Badfalcon, Campylobacter, Dennydj, Eilidh, Fig Newton, Gategremlyn, Goddess47, Immertreu, Ivorygates, Izhilzha, Jb, Jedibuttercup, Magnavox, Marzipan, Milanthruil, Roeskva, Splash the Cat, Stringertheory, Thothmes, Topazowl, Traycer, Wonderland, and Zeilfanaat. A tip of the chef's hat to our new cooks: Antonomasia, Badfalcon, Marzipan, and Goddess47! Extra thanks to Eilidh, Traycer, and Zeilfanaat for offering double servings.
Enjoy over 54,000 words of time travel gen fic! Ratings range from G to PG-13, and expect spoilers from pre- to post-series. Due to the nature of time travel, there are multiple references to canonical and/or temporary character deaths. Two cooks offered wallpapers as extra seasoning, which you'll find at their journals.
Due to LJ entry size constraints, fics are only excerpted. Readers are strongly encouraged to follow the links to complete and comment on the stories at the author's own entries. The complete, unabridged anthology will eventually be posted, as soon as I figure out how; as it stands, it's over the size limit for even Dreamwidth.
A is for Adversary
Diplomacy
by eilidh17
“And this is the ‘gate room.” Jack did a theatrical sweep of his hand as he guided Senator Kinsey through the double blast doors and into the embarkation room, where the Stargate sat silently. “As you can plainly see it’s currently in it’s off mode, but I’ve arranged to give you a little demonstration of this baby in action.”
“A demonstration,” Kinsey purred under his breath, favoring Jack with a sideways glance. “So you’d think nothing of firing up this infernal waste of the taxpayer’s money for my benefit? Colonel, that's exactly the type of recklessness that has gotten this facility in trouble in the first place!”
“Whoa!” Jack raised his hands up in mock surrender. “No such thing happening here, Bob. You don’t mind if I call you that do you?”
“There’s no point in trying to buy me with familiarity and friendship, Colonel. You and I aren’t about to become buddies.”
“Right.” Jack clapped his hands together and smiled. “So, Bob…” He stoutly ignored Kinsey’s death-ray stare and guided him towards the base of the ramp, the ‘gate looming high above them. “About that demonstration… Major Carter and her team have come up with a way to harness the kinetic energy of an outgoing wormhole, storing it so we can supplement our own energy reserves. All very technical if you ask me, but the upshot is that we can spin the orifice and give you a good look at what we do here.”
“Orifice?”
“Just a nickname we’ve given the old girl.”
Appearing a little flustered, Kinsey waved in the direction of the ‘gate. “Oh, very well.”
“Excellent!” Jack looked over his shoulder and up to Teal’c in the control room. “Dial it up, Teal’c.”
continued
B is for Be, Being, Been
by marzipan77
“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been.”
― Kurt Vonnegut
“It won’t work.”
Daniel didn’t look up. A sandstorm was coming, the wind picked up grains of sand and scraped them across his cheeks, lodged them in the corners of his eyes beneath his glasses. The tail of his bandana flapped distractingly against the back of his neck.
“Daniel. It never worked.”
“That’s not entirely true.” He laid one hand flat against one stone cube. The Ancient language was not a barrier to him - not any more. Malikai only ever had a partial understanding of the concepts - the philosophies behind the Ancients. He hadn’t lived among them, learned the nuances, and practiced rhetoric with Old Ones who thought of him as a toddler-Godzilla swinging his arms through their pristine Tokyo.
“It never had a chance to work,” he continued, tightening his muscles, ready to begin the machine’s process so that it could take him back. Just a few weeks. Just until before he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He closed his eyes. One of the biggest mistakes of his life. Daniel had quite a few to pick from.
“Hey. This is me. You could at least look at me before you throw me back into hell for three months. Or longer.”
Daniel didn’t want to. He didn’t want to look into those deep set eyes, see the half-smile, and then to look beyond, beyond the surface ease and humor and into the soul of his best friend.
“Jack.”
“Don’t ‘Jack’ me, Daniel. You know this isn’t right.”
He lifted his head and speared the man before him with a sharp glare. “I can do this, Jack. Why can’t you ever believe in me? Just give me the benefit of the doubt? You never-"
“I always believe in you, Daniel.”
Nothing had changed. Jack could still cut him off at the knees with just a few words. Daniel took a stuttering breath and let an ounce more pressure descend on the Ancient time machine.
continued
B is for Bravery
by zeilfanaat
General Hammond was watching them as they returned. He was relieved to see they had made it back. Apparently the cryptic note that he’d given to Sam before they left, had been sufficient - not to mention correct! He’d remembered what the note had said back in 1969. It had been such an incredible experience, that he’d committed the note to memory. Although he had checked the information with Captain Carter’s research later on, just to be sure.
What he hadn’t known was whether SG-1 had figured out that they were the time and dates of two solar flares, which would send them back to nearly 30 years later. Then again, if they hadn’t managed to go back to the future, George was sure they would have found a way to let him know for the ‘next’ time. To use different times or dates, or to be more specific in his note so that when it would happen ‘again’, they would be able to go home. Either that or they had been killed trying to get home. He had tried, back in 1969, to find out, as inconspicuously as he could manage… He hadn’t found anything to indicate they hadn’t made it… but there was only so much he could find out without someone noticing. Especially with the limited knowledge he’d had back then as a Lieutenant.
Once he became the SGC’s commander, he’d wanted to try and find out more. But by then, he had become aware of the complicated politics surrounding the Stargate Program. He’d realised that if he got caught trying to find out more, someone could possibly prevent SG-1 from going through the gate. It needn’t even be someone from the SGC’s enemies. Well-meaning people, concerned for whether or not SG-1 would return, could put a stop to their mission.And that would change the timeline. So even though he had hated sending SG-1 on that mission without knowing if they would make it back… he still let them go.
And so he worried, resigned to waiting. He calculated how much the Colonel would owe him, with interest, if only to keep his mind on the positive track. They would return.
continued
C is for Countdown, Causality, and Close Enough
by ivorygates
Cassie was eighteen the first time Aunt Sam told her the future. It was her birthday: not her real birthday, because Hanka-times and Earth-times didn't match up, but Aunt Sam had given her an "official" birthday of November 4th (because both Janet-mom and Aunt Sam had said, when she first came, that it wouldn't be "fair" for her birthday to be on Halloween).
On November 4th, 2003, Janet-mom has been dead for almost a year.
Nirrti has been dead for two. Cassie has always marked time by the deaths it contains. She'd been 12 when the world ended, twelve-plus-five days when more Tau'ri came (the others, the first ones, were dead).
Uncle Daniel, she thinks, is the only one who really understands what it was like to live on Hanka those last years. The aliens (the Tau'ri ) had been surprised to know the Hankans knew all about the eclipse that was coming, but they always had. The Great Goddess had told them, centuries ago: "With the darkness will come the apocalypse." All the time the Tau'ri were building their observatory, the last of the Hankans were preparing for the end.
There were a lot of children born in the countdown to the Last Days, for the Great Goddess (False Goddess: not a goddess, not even human, an evil lying parasite) had promised them that if the True Child came to be, the apocalypse would be averted. Cassie was the last child ever born on Hanka, born too late to be their salvation: you had to be sixteen to go into the forest. To be tested.
With every son or daughter who went to the forest, the Hankans hoped the True Child would be revealed. But everyone who went to the forest returned, and so the Hankans knew there would be no reprieve. Cassie had felt so proud to be treated as the adult she knew she would never live to become on the day Mama brought home the Final Cup from the temple, saying that they would all drink together on the Day of Darkness. (Many had not waited, once hope was gone. Each month, each year, more of the village houses had stood empty.) Cassie and her family had worked for days preparing their Feast of Leavetaking.
For nothing.
Five days before the Last Day, plague struck.
continued
D is for Don't Look Back
by sg-wonderland
“So,” Jack nestled another log into the dying fire. “1969. What a year.”
Daniel clasped the tin cup holding his coffee; Jack fervently hoped he wasn’t preparing an oral dissertation about the differences of 1969 coffee and the current offering. They’d all been subjected to babblings about any number of things, none of which were about the really important stuff like the moon landing, the Mets and Woodstock.
“Actually, sir, I’ve been thinking,” Sam piped up while Daniel was drawing breath, “I wonder if we haven’t already inadvertently shifted the time line.”
“Because?” Jack stretched out his legs.
“Because Project Blue Book’s official end date was December of 1969 and was officially closed in January of 1970.”
“You think our being here may have caused it?” Daniel frowned.
“It makes a certain kind of sense.”
“It does. But who have we interacted with that has that kind of power?”
“That’s probably out of our scope of reasoning although I suppose it is possible….”
“So, 1969,” Jack drawled. “What were you guys doing?”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly. “We were in Greece. My parents and I. My mother was sick that whole summer. She seemed to be really sick but I’m relying on the memories of a four-year-old.”
“I thought you were four and a half?”
Daniel grinned. “When Mama said no, I would always tell her I was four and a half or five and a half or whatever. Even if it was the day after my birthday, I would add that ‘and a half!’”.
“You had to be the worst brat in the world.” Jack shook his head.
“I sometimes, mostly, well, almost always got my way. The advantage of being an only child, I suppose.” Daniel blinked innocently.
continued
E is for Excellent (said the time traveler to her fellow)
by jedibuttercup
Sam regarded the baked confection on her plate with a slight frown, then lowered her fork, rolling the bite she'd taken around in her mouth.
"No," she shook her head, carefully analyzing the flavor profile. "You're right, it's not the same. I don't know if it's the crust, or if there's some ingredient missing, or what, but it's just not the same pie."
"Given that it was 1969, maybe we're better off not knowing what that ingredient was," the colonel replied with a wry twist to his mouth. He was already more than halfway through his own piece of pecan pie, imperfect or not; he gestured at her with another forkful. "Especially considering our hosts were on their way to Woodstock."
"Now, be fair, sir," Sam replied wryly, "Michael and Jenny were very helpful. We'd never have made it to New York and D.C. in time without their assistance."
"Particularly after they found out we were 'aliens'," Jack commented, making air quotes around the last word. "I guess, just so long as we were still enemies of 'the establishment'...." He paused there, mouth pursed, as though he wanted to add to that observation but had decided not to.
Sam sighed and looked down. She'd been wondering, too; and she'd seen at the time how hard it had been for him not to weigh in on the decision facing their hosts. Had Michael run to Canada after all? Or had Jenny tearfully sent him off to Vietnam? Had he ever returned, either way? At the moment, it was Schrödinger's question; she didn't have to face the answer if she didn't know it.
continued
F is for Future Tense
by stringertheory
When George met Jacob, his first thought was of another Carter he had met not long before. He wondered, even then, whether there was a connection between the two. 'Carter' was a common surname, though, and he decided that the odds of the two being related were too slim to even be considered. Still, he couldn't help but search his new friend's face for traces of the young woman who had told him his future.
He and Jacob were both young lieutenants when they met. George had just transferred from Cheyenne Mountain when Jacob discovered him, lost, on the opposite side of the base from where he was meant to be. In the time it took them to walk the width of the base, the roots of a deep friendship were planted. On the surface, the two men couldn't have seemed more different - Jacob energetic and brash, George reserved and methodical - but they got on famously. They shared a strong sense of duty and a deep love of family and country, which had led them both to military careers. They bonded over the similarities and appreciated the differences.
One day, Jacob pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket, unfolding it to show George the pretty woman and two children it featured. George's heart skipped a beat, his eyes drawn immediately to the younger child. What's her name, he asked, heart thundering in his chest, reading the answer in the familiar features of the woman holding her. Samantha, Jacob replied, voice warm with love.
For a split second, George felt sick to his stomach, but almost immediately a sense of calm acceptance replaced his unease. He wasn't one to rely on fate or destiny, but he did believe that some things happened for a reason, that some things were meant to be.
continued
G is for Gravitational Time Dilation and the Consequences of Special Relativity
by splash_the_cat
The strange car parked neatly off the cabin's main driveway had rental plates. Jack pulled his truck up past it, into his usual spot, and gathered his groceries from the back before going to investigate. Nothing identifying was visible through the windows, and nobody stood on the porch waiting for him, so Jack headed around to the back door.
One of the cluster of chairs on the dock was occupied.
Jack let the back door slam shut behind him, though he was certain his visitor already knew he'd arrived. He stowed his groceries and grabbed two beers from the fridge and made his way out to the dock.
Teal'c said nothing until Jack was standing right next to him. "You have increased the size of the platform."
Jack looked down at the fresh wood planks. He kind of missed how it no longer creaked alarmingly with every step. "Yeah, well, all these people keep showing up to sit out here. Had to make some extra room." Jack settled into the other chair and held out the bottle. "Hey."
"Hello, O'Neill." Teal'c took it and twisted off the cap, taking a polite sip before setting it near his feet. Jack did the same, and leaned back to enjoy the last of the day's heat. After about fifteen minutes of silence, Jack glanced over at Teal'c. It was weird, seeing him aged, not just in body with the white at his temples and the fine lines around his eyes, but there was something else, too. An intangible bow to his back. A weight that even Bra'tac had never shown.
Jack picked up his beer and drained the rest of the bottle in one long pull. "So, you staying for dinner?"
Something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of Teal'c's mouth. "Indeed."
continued
H is for History
by dennydj
She rang the doorbell and waited, pulling her jacket more tightly around her to keep out the brisk early spring breeze. The carved oak door swung open, revealing the familiar face of a dark-haired woman in her early thirties.
“Hello, Allison.”
Allison smiled back. “He’s been asking about you.”
“I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble,” she replied, feeling every one of her seventy-plus years as she crossed the threshold and entered the house.
“No more than usual,” the young nurse laughed as she closed the door and followed her inside.
They stopped in the entry and Allison helped her remove her jacket.
“How is he, really?”
The young woman’s smile evaporated. “The doctor doesn’t know how he’s managed to hang on so long.” Allison looked earnestly into her eyes. “But we do, don’t we?”
She nodded. “Yes, we do. Which makes my visit bittersweet.”
“Maybe you should wait-”
She laid her hand on the nurse’s arm. “No, I have to tell him. It’s what he’s been waiting for.”
Taking a deep breath, she went in search of her long-time friend, Allison at her side. She knew this house well, its familiar halls carpeted in oriental rugs, its walls a museum of masks, weapons, and other odds and ends collected from this world and others.
After a short walk, they arrived at a room that was bright and toasty warm, thanks to the sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the longest wall. They looked out over a bright green meadow surrounded by budding trees, all of it towered over by mountains with snow just beginning to thaw.
There was a fireplace at one end of the room, embers of a fire still glowing softly. Tall bookcases flanked it, crammed full of tomes of all shapes and sizes, some ancient, some new, an occasional photograph dotted among them. A modest mahogany desk sat on the opposite side, its surface covered with more books and papers that spilled over the side and onto the floor.
An antique grand piano was pushed to one side of the room. She remembered when it had once been the center of the room, its music filling the space and holding her enthralled. In its place was an overstuffed chair, which faced the windows. One gnarled hand rested on its arm, its fingers tapping gently. On the opposite side stood an IV pole, a half empty bag hung on its hook, clear tubing snaking its way down to disappear in front of the chair. On a small table nearby, medicine bottles were lined up like chess pieces waiting to be played.
continued
I is for Inherency
by sg1jb
Daniel has only just entered Sam's office when Jack comes bounding in from behind, a wave of energy that laps at Daniel's back, urging him forward out of its path. He steps aside and Jack heads straight for the secondary computer terminal at the near end of Sam's work counter.
″How do you get the internet on this thing?″ He's wiggling the mouse, stabbing at the space bar repeatedly. ″Come on, wake up.″
No one bothers to point out that this terminal is no different than any other on the base, including the one in Jack's office - they all know this is more a case of vim and vigour than it is feigned ignorance. A short flurry of clicking apparently takes Jack where he wants to be, and as Daniel walks around behind him toward where Sam and Teal'c sit at her desk, he glances at the monitor and cannot help but shake his head at what he sees there.
Jack is typing, filling in the calculator's data fields, as Daniel hikes up a leg to sit on the edge of Sam's desk. Before he has a chance to tell them what Jack is doing, Jack lets out a an ″Aha!″ of discovery. Teal'c wanders over to stand behind Jack, peering over his shoulder.
″Hah,″ Jack proudly tells the room. ″I knew it didn't sound right.″ Daniel rolls his eyes, giving Sam a 'don't ask' shake of his head in response to her questioning look.
″You are using the wrong tool, O'Neill,″ Teal'c says and leans forward to point at something on the screen. ″This one. You must compound the interest.″
Jack knocks Teal'c's hand away, shooting a glare over his shoulder, but there's more clicking, followed by more data entry. ″Well, crap,″ he soon says, and Daniel would laugh except for the fact he's preoccupied with more serious thoughts.
″Surely you do not begrudge General Hammond this, O'Neill.″
Jack shoos Teal'c back toward Sam's desk, following him. ″No, I do not begrudge Hammond this,″ he half-mimics Teal'c's tone. ″I was just checking.″
Daniel wants to tell Teal'c this has nothing to do with the money. Different people have different ways of coming down from stressful situations, and this is Jack's. But he doesn't bother, because he suspects Teal'c well knows this by now; Teal'c is simply yanking Jack's chain.
continued
J is for Just a Little Pocket Change
by thothmes
The woods were quiet, and the fire had died down to embers. The only sound was the sound of the wind in the trees, and an occasional truck downshifting, out of sight up on the road. This particular campsite had been one of the less desirable ones because it was closer to the road, but Jack and Michael, who had picked it out, were more interested in price than communing with nature. The midnight hour had passed long ago, and the others were on the bus, asleep. Well, all except for Teal'c. He would have waited for Jenny and Michael to be sound asleep, and then risen from his pretended sleep to kel'no'reem.
Jack was not ready to sleep, not now, and not anytime soon. Some of it was the inactivity, he knew. Jenny and Michael seemed to be in no particular hurry, and he supposed that if he wanted to get in a run (in his combat boots!) they could get a later start in the morning, but they couldn't afford to miss the solar flares, and if Daniel was not able to get the location of the Stargate out of Catherine, then they would need every single second of the time between flares to try to find the thing, or they were trapped. And that would be unacceptable. Better to drive them all crazy with the restlessness that came when his energy had no other outlet, than to face the problem of what to do with Junior if they couldn't get away. Even Daniel, who seemed to show a particularly low tolerance to Jack's fidgets and drumming would choose that over an early death for Teal'c any day. Year. Time.
Man, oh man, Jack hated time travel. That was the problem, wasn't it? Time. Carter said it was like a river, with currents, eddies, and a destination. She said he shouldn't do anything to change it, that a little thing could make his home, his time, unrecognizable. There was something about butterflies and the weather too, but he didn't quite follow that one. Because he was thinking about the stuff in his pocket.
Not his front jeans pocket, where he had stored the remaining bills from the wad that Hammond had given him. The pocket of his sweet second-hand leather jacket. His hand strayed there now, pulling out three remaining pieces of bubble gum and a handful of change.
continued
K is for Kindness
by milanthruil
The team looked around them and blinked as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of a thankfully empty auditorium. A bright light had surrounded them just seconds before.
“Carter! Where the hell are we and what the hell happened?” Jack griped.
“I’m not sure, sir.” Sam frowned as she realized she had left her gadgets behind on the desk in Daniel’s office at the SGC.
“We appear to have been transported, O’Neill.” Teal’c supplied less-then helpfully.
“I can see that, Teal’c, thanks.” Jack turned to Daniel. “What happened to your office, Daniel?”
Daniel continued to look around the room, a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Daniel!” Jack snapped his fingers in Daniel’s face.
“Sorry, what?” Daniel looked at his friend.
“What happened?”
Daniel scratched at the back of his head. “This artifact I’ve been studying.” He held up a small granite cube with Ancient writing on it.“It says something about granting ‘desires of the past’. I didn’t really get a chance to examine it before you all showed up. I must have accidentally activated it somehow while we were talking.”
Jack sighed. “All right, folks. Let’s do a bit of recon and find out where we are. And more importantly, how do we get back home.”
The team made their way out of the darkened auditorium and came face to face with a wall of Egyptian artefacts. The crease between Daniel’s eyebrows deepened and the knot he’d been feeling in his gut grew colder.
Sam looked around at the architecture and pursed her lips. “Something feels vaguely familiar about this place.”
Daniel took a few step to the left to examine a placard next to one of the artefacts. He noticed the logo and the name of the museum in the corner of the white rectangle. He whipped his head around to look more closely at the other statues and works of art. “It can’t be.” He let out a disbelieving laugh.
continued
L is for Loop
by immertreu
“We're lost.” Daniel stated the obvious, but as always, Jack couldn't resist the challenge.
“We're not lost,” their team leader replied while constantly checking their surroundings for any threat. “Just taking the scenic route.”
“Then where are the sights?” Daniel replied deadpan.
Sam snorted and hid her grin behind a stern expression the moment her CO regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “Sir, I think Daniel's right. Sir,” she added for good measure, but she knew Jack wasn't fooled. He motioned for her to continue, and she complied. “We've walked through this doorway three times already. Notice the chipped step, sir? It's the same every time we end up here - wherever here is.”
Jack stared at the damaged sill and scowled. “No fair, Carter. That's not possible.”
This time, she did grin at him. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Daniel chuckled at their antics, knowing full well that his friends were trying to lighten the mood and not think of their missing team member and their predicament. Somehow, Teal'c had stayed behind the first time they stepped through the door leading further into the ancient temple SG-1 had been sent to investigate - ancient not with capital A, for a change.
Daniel had led the way, following the light of his powerful flashlight into the alluring depths of the hallway whose walls were adorned with foreign writing he couldn't read - yet. Sam and her curious nose for advanced technology had followed close behind. Jack had been one step ahead of Teal'c, their rear-guard, crossing the threshold a few seconds before their resident Jaffa. Suddenly the three human team members were alone in the building, no sign of Teal'c or the light he was carrying to be found. The hallway they found themselves in was slightly illuminated by sconces set into the walls - power source unknown.
They had turned back immediately, but the doorway had - for lack of a better word - refused to let them through. There was no door, no energy field or any other explanation for the resistance they met when they tried to cross the threshold again. It was like walking into an invisible wall. A slightly elastic wall, for that matter. The room that lay behind was blanketed in impenetrable darkness. Or maybe the invisible shield was fooling them again.
Having no choice and not being able to raise Teal'c on the radio, they had cautiously continued onward - only to stumble into a maze. The whole temple seemed to be one huge labyrinth.
Keeping to the left had worked as well as following the opposite way - meaning they somehow always ended up at the beginning.
continued
M is for Moebius
by sg_fignewton
"Where does the greater arrogance lie?"
Sam paused, fingers stilling, then deliberately continued to smooth out the sand where she'd laboriously scrawled her equations. She'd had this conversation too often lately.
"We can't erase our presence here as easy as that, Sam." The voice was probably gentle enough, but the underlying edge of tension scraped against her nerves.
"No," she agreed, blinking eyes that had been too dry for too long. "It's too late for that. But we can still try to minimize the damage."
"Bit presumptuous, isn't it? Deciding that our set future matters more than the possible futures of millions."
"It's even more presumptuous to decide which millions of lives matter," she said quietly, her gaze fixed downwards. She didn't need to look up to visualize Daniel's knitted brows and stubborn expression. "We don't have the right to choose."
"What's worse, then? Letting everyone suffer for a future we hope is still out there, or trying to twist things to make a better future and running the risk of making it even worse?" Sam thought she felt a shift in the air, visualized Daniel's restless hands sketching aimless patterns. "Maybe the arrogance lies in assuming that what we do really matters in the long run. Maybe time is more resilient that we think."
"And maybe," Sam told the floor, "this is too great a focal point to get blurred over the centuries."
Ra was still here, the revolt crushed. Was their failure only a prelude? Would another uprising take place, a year or a decade or a century from now? Maybe it was arrogance to assume that their presence here mattered so much. Maybe the weight of history would drown out their floundering in the sands of the past.
Or maybe their restless impatience had sent a deadly ripple through time that would destroy the hope of Earth's future as a planet free of Goa'uld oppression.
"We might have destroyed the future." Forcing herself to say it aloud didn't make it hurt any less.
"We might have destroyed a future, Sam. It might not even have been ours. And isn't it arrogance personified to insist it was the optimal one?"
continued
N is for Nevermore
by traycer_
Stars filled the sky as Jack stared up at the heavens. His telescope set up and ready to go next to his chair, but he didn't use it. He only wanted to think, and to let the solitude of the night sky soothe his worries. Or in this case, his fears.
He took a swig of the beer he brought with him, while his thoughts took him to the planet where Malikai tried his best to recreate history. Jack shook his head as he looked down at the bottle in his hand. He still couldn't manage to even comprehend why anyone would want to go through with the devastation that came with watching someone you loved die. It defied reason, as far as he was concerned.
Yet he turned his attention back to the sky once more, and wondered once again what it would be like to have Charlie here with him. What would they be doing right now?
He shook his head again. Why do this now, he thought wearily, although deep down, he knew the answer to that question. Malikai had brought back those "what-if" thoughts again, and Jack knew he was going to have to struggle with the memories for a bit. Just as he had to deal with it after they returned from their journey to the past when they had gated to 1969. That trip had brought on crazy ideas of figuring out a way to go back to save Charlie, and Jack was still ticked off at the futility of those thoughts. He glared up at the stars. No way was he going to do that again. It served no purpose, he told himself firmly. Charlie was dead. Nothing Jack did was going to bring him back. He took another swig and grimaced. They had the ability to travel through time, even if finding the next solar flare was sketchy at best, and there wasn't a thing he could do to bring his son back.
So that's it, he thought as he drained the bottle and set it down on the table next to him. Never again.
continued
O is for Oops
by badfalcon
"Oops." Sam pulled a face and winced as the machine in front of her sparked blue and made a mechanical whining sound. She slid her chair backwards and sucked two fingers into her mouth. She muttered around them, half under her breath, and moved around the table as she studiously ignored the looks she could feel both Daniel and the Colonel were shooting her.
"Oops?" O'Neill repeated and looked over her shoulder, his hand on the table. He raised an eyebrow when she looked up at him. "What do you mean 'oops', Carter?"
"I..." She trailed off and jumped as the machine sparked again. She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, her eyes widened at the sight of the little grey wisps of smoke that had started to seep from one corner of the machine. "Damn it!"
"I think she means 'oops' as in it wasn't supposed to do that," Daniel offered, and Sam could hear the laughter in his voice.
"I'm not really sure what it is supposed to do," she admitted. "Maybe this is normal activity for it?"
O'Neill snorted and leant with his hip against the edge of the table. "Right. Normal. When has anything about anything we bring back through the 'gate been normal?""
Sam looked at Daniel and shrugged; O'Neill was right, maybe normal hadn't been the right word.
"Normal's relative," Daniel pointed out, as he picked up his coffee cup and wrapped his hands around it. "Maybe it's normal for a... for a whatever it is. Although," he continued carefully, "maybe you shouldn't be poking it with a screwdriver until..."
A bright flash of light and a crack of sound that reminded Sam of a firework echoed around the room. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked rapidly as she tried to work out what had just happened.
"Until you know what it does." Daniel finished with a sigh. “Yeah.”
"... you gone completely insane, Daniel?"
"Um. Not that I'm aware of," Daniel replied as Sam realised that there was another O'Neill in front of Daniel. Sam slowly turned her head to the side; O'Neill was still leaning against Sam's desk.
"Um." She looked back at the man in front of him; a little greyer, a little older but definitely O'Neill.
"Sam?" Daniel asked, she could see the confusion on his face at the sudden appearance.
"There's..." Sam's eyes widened and she blinked rapidly. There were two O'Neills in her lab; they were circling each other, eyeing each other up and poking each other in the chest. "Daniel, there's two of them."
"Yeah, I noticed," Daniel nodded.
continued
P is for Paradox
by roeskva
“What’s up, Sam?” Daniel asked, when his teammate again stopped and looked around. It was the third time since they arrived, and they had only walked maybe half a mile from the Stargate.
Sam shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just... this planet looks familiar, somehow.”
“I’m sure we haven’t been here before,” Daniel said.
“No, I know. But I think Jolinar has,” Sam observed. She frowned. “Teal’c, I think maybe you should hide your forehead symbol before we reach the nearest town. We’ll have to pass through there to get to the ruins.”
“Why? Didn’t you say this world belonged to Sokar? He’s dead!” O’Neill said. “The planet should be free of any Goa’uld.”
“True, even before Sokar was killed, Tokal - the minor Goa’uld he had left in charge of this world - was rarely here. He was in charge of three other planets as well, and I think he preferred to live on one of those. Anyway, according to the Tok’ra, Tokal was visiting Sokar and was aboard his ship when it was destroyed, so this world is free now. The population here may still react badly to what looks like the First Prime of Apophis, though. Sokar and Apophis were enemies.” Sam insisted. “It’s just a precaution, sir.”
“It is a valid concern. I will do as you suggest, Major Carter,” Teal’c said.
“Here - take this.” Daniel handed him the bandana he had been wearing. “That should work.”
“Thank you, Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c put it on.
“Okay, can we move on?” O’Neill asked, a bit annoyed.
Daniel frowned. “What’s wrong, Jack?”
“This mission is a huge waste of time! SG-2 could have handled it - we’re only here because of those ruins they found,” he grumbled.
“And that I wanted to take a look at. I’m sorry!” Daniel said, looking miffed. “It’s just that it sounded like something we ought to check out. Some of these ruins were in unusual good condition, and there was writing which might indicate the people who lived here were related to the Furling!”
“I know, Daniel! I know!” O’Neill gave him a tired smile. “Just... try not to take the whole week? There’s a Simpsons marathon on television tomorrow.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’ll try...”
continued
Q is for Questing
by izhilzha
Dr. Janet Fraser made sure her gloves were snugly in place before adjusting the space blanket over Dr. Johnson, the botanist attached to SG-17. “You're doing fine,” she assured him, trying to overwhelm his shivering with the force of her words. He stared up at her, shocky, speechless. She gave up talking and smoothed his hair back until his eyes fluttered closed.
The eyes were the worst. The veined pattern under the skin, brown edged with blood red, could be any rash; the pain from impaired nerve function was less terrible than some diseases; but she'd never seen the black iris itself threaded with pale brown and green, both aqueous and vitreous fluids invaded. Nothing seemed to slow it; nothing they had access to.
Major Mansfield, the leader of SG-17, crouched beside her. “Nothing?”
Janet shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe if the SGC can get us that new anti-fungal drug in the next drop....” She shrugged. Focused on what news Mansfield might have. “Nothing from SG-1, huh?”
“Not a sign.” The man scrubbed a hand across his face. “Ever since they picked up those carved rods and twisted them-poof. Nothing.”
Janet took a deep breath, then another. “They'll be back. Hopefully with some new ideas.” Mansfield gave her a cynical look. “I trust Dr. Jackson's linguistic skills. They knew what they were getting into when they decided to use those artifacts.”
“If you say so, ma'am.” Mansfield paced back towards the crumbling walls of the ruin. To the makeshift camp where SG-17 huddled, studying, dozing, trying not to panic at every twinge of a foot fallen asleep.
You'd better, Janet thought fiercely, imagining what strange times SG-1 might have sent themselves to. Roasting hot summer (unlike the mild weather currently outside these walls), wars, non-fungal epidemics... oh, so many possibilities. You'd better have some idea what you just got yourselves, and the rest of us, into here. You'd just better come back.
continued
R is for Rift
by Topazowl
“Jack, what are you doing here again?” Some scenarios repeat themselves and General Jack O’Neill stood in full dress blues at the door of Doctor Daniel Jackson’s office.
“Nice to see you too, Daniel. Wish it was in better circumstances but I need you in the briefing room, NOW,” he finished with a louder voice as it was obvious that Daniel was about to prevaricate.
Suitably chastised, Daniel rose and they headed to the elevator.
“Gonna give me a clue?
“Nope.”
“Not even a teensy, weensy one?”
“Only think 1969.” Daniel shut up; that was a cue word they used to indicate something was amiss with a timeline.
*
Landry was already there talking to Mitchell and Vala. Sam came running up the stairs from below as she saw her two friends. Only Teal’c was missing, on Chulak. They all moved to the large table to sit with Landry one end and O’Neill the other.
“Jack?” Landry handed the meeting to O’Neill.
“I had a secure link phone call from Wales of all places,” - Daniel sniggered and was glared at - “from a deniable group of people who call themselves Torchwood. They are based in Cardiff where there is supposed to be a rift in the space-time continuum which occasionally throws out or drags in people or entities. This time it has thrown out a humdinger of a problem, a 90 year old Doctor Daniel Jackson!”
“Wow!” was Sam’s reaction. The colour drained from Daniel’s face. Vala laughed and commented on how it would be good to see if he’d worn well. Mitchell just looked confused.
“And what’s it mean for SG1, Sir?”
“Mitchell, you are gonna take a couple of your team to Cardiff and interview this guy, maybe bring him back here, depending on circumstances of course, and then we will act accordingly.” Daniel’s finger went up; Jack sighed.
“I think, Jack, that I speak for us all when I say it’s SG1 or no-one. We are a team and you damn well know that!”
Jack looked at Landry and shrugged.
“He said you’d say that,” Landry stated. “You have a go SG1 and as the Daedalus is home from Atlantis, beam up in one hour at 1300. Jack, you may want to tell them a little more before they go.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Four pairs of eyes glared at General O’Neill; he continued to give them a little background on Torchwood which is an institution that concentrates on tracking down aliens who come through the space time rift.
continued
S is for Stars in the Sky
by eilidh17
The truth of all history died with those who created it
Shadows danced across the fresco on the mud brick wall of the small workshop, thrown out by the flame from a beeswax candle that was nearing the end of its usefulness. In the far corner, away from the cold night air that flowed in through an open doorway, an old man looked down at the tablet he was working on and blew away a fine coating of siltstone dust that had built up around his latest glyph.
He closed his eyes and ran a finger over the engraving, noting edges needing to be dressed further and troughs that could be deeper. Unlike those around him, the old man had a unique concept of history and knew exactly what was required for the future to better comprehend the past. Kings lived and died here, their legacies contained in mastaba tombs that echoed the wealth of their reign, reflected in the luxuries they took with them to the afterlife. It was an enlightened view, this notion that living in the here and now was just a step along a greater path, but it was also unfortunate that the only footprints to be seen on that path were those of kings. The old man knew better, and so left the glorifying of deeds and recording of religious events to the scribes of this time, all the while making sure his future would have a greater understanding of all he endured for them.
"You are called to court, my friend."
The old man looked up and squinted at the figure standing before him. The shuffle of feet on the dusty floor and the way the shadows on the wall lived and died when someone walked in the path of the candle was all he needed to know that his quiet solitude had been broken.
"Again?" he grumbled as he put his chisel aside and dusted his hands off on his tunic. "This will be the fourth time in as many days."
"He favors your counsel above most in the kingdom."
"That may be true, but I fear our king has become a little indecisive in his old age."
continued
T Is For Temporal, Being
by magnavox_23
“Tell me again why we’re playing with black holes? In particular this black hole, of which I am none too fond…”
Sam held back an eye roll as she and Teal’c carried her equipment down the steps from the gate. “This is the closest planet with a gate to the black hole, aside from P3W-451 of course, and a recent scouting mission by the Prometheus suggests the black hole’s gravity has just reached this planet. So, it seems an ideal time to measure the effects of that gravity from a relatively safe distance.” Sam’s poker face was firmly in place before Jack swung around to glare at her. “Sir.”
“Fine!” Jack snapped off. “Just tell me the moment things start… sucking.”
Sam nodded enthusiastically.
“Ok, Sam knows what she is doing. Daniel, Teal’c, you can set up camp, and I will secure the perimeter. Back in ten.”
Daniel watched as Jack resettled his weapon and strode off. “He’s not happy about this mission.”
“Colonel O’Neill believes in ‘letting sleeping ghosts lie’, though ghosts require no sleep.” Teal’c set about unpacking their supplies.
*
Jack couldn’t stop himself from staring up at the sky, wondering for a glimpse of the back hole, even though in reality, he knew it would be impossible to see. Sam had explained the acute angle of the accretion disc relative to this world, but Jack knew it was out there.
The crunch of leaves underfoot andsoft breeze did nothing to belay the unease Jack felt about being here.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention the moment they had stepped foot through the gate.Now, he trod wearily, senses alert for anything to explain the feeling in his gut.
He picked his way through the forest, climbing fallen tree logs and watched the vines twist and turn in sunbeams. Any other place, and Jack would have thought it quite serene.
It was when he bent down onsmall rocks next to a stream to retrieve a water sample for Sam to test, that Jack became aware of the presence behind him. Slowly he fingered the safety off his weapon. He rose to full height, ready to turn.
“Colonel O’Neill!”
Jack spun around, finding nothing but earth, and a sunbeam not quite as still as the others. Then a face appeared. “Jack!”
The light shifted toward him and Jack took an automatic step back, which caused him to slip on the rocks and fall backwards into the shallow stream.
Henry Boyd floated above him.
continued
U is for Unrealized Reality
by antonomasia09
“From every point of entry - a wormhole branches into multiple paths. The subdivision continues until at length you are deposited back into space/time. The journey can be random, or with purpose. Destination is the key. Every portal has a distinct space/time signature. The only destinations you can realize, by design, are those of which you have foreknowledge. The more you travel, the more signatures you will catalogue. Our Ancients have given you the ability to recognize these subtle differences. Since every destination is surrounded by similar unrealized realities, the closer you travel, the more you must maintain absolute engrossment. And never return to a familiar place prior to the last time you left. Your next journey may lead to a permanent unrealized reality.” - various, “Unrealized Reality” (Farscape)
Teal’c is in a vast desert, nothing but gently sloping sands as far as his eye can see in every direction. There is no Stargate, no sign of how he came to be here. The cannon he used to destroy Tanith’s ship is still in his hands. He grasps it tightly lest it disappear, as the Stargate must have.
At the sound of a faint clanking noise behind him, he whirls around. A man stands there who was not present a moment before. He looks roughly the same age as Bra’tac and is wearing Jaffa armor, but he is no Jaffa; he does not carry himself as a warrior does, even an old one, and he bears no weapons. His eyes are flat black, the opposite of a Goa’uld’s flashing gold. There are no footprints in the soft sand to indicate which direction he came from.
“Who are you?” Teal’c asks. His cannon is very visibly pointed at the man, who gives no outward sign that this distresses him at all.
“My name is unimportant.” The man pauses. “However, a being I once encountered from the planet to which you were traveling denominated me ‘Einstein.’”
Teal’c wonders who exactly from Earth Einstein has met and how the alien knows his intended destination. There are more pressing matters, though. “You are not a Jaffa,” he challenges, hoping that pointing out the obvious fallacy will not anger the man.
Fortunately, it does not. “I took this form to facilitate communication,” Einstein concedes easily.
He reminds Teal’c of the Asgard, somewhat. The same bluntness, the same sense of superiority. That, combined with the stated desire for communication rather than violence, is reassuring. Teal’c lowers his weapon. “Where am I?” he asks.
“You are within the wormhole network. This scenery is a construct I have devised so as to make you more comfortable.” For an instant, the world around them grows cold, icy, with black water swirling at Teal’c’s feet, but then the landscape settles into endless desert once more.
“Why am I here?” he asks.
“Your Stargate malfunctioned as a result of a massive burst of energy while you were in transit; hence, you were unable to rematerialize at your destination.”
continued
V is for VAH-fels
by campylobacter
The bell over the door makes a musical ring as he and his grandfather enter. Daniel hasn't eaten much of anything in two days, and is surprised when his mouth waters at the sweet scent of maple syrup. The aroma is the same as when his parents took him to a Rhode Island sugarhouse over a year ago, when the snow was beginning to melt.
The sign on the hostess podium says, "Please SEAT YOURSELF". A short, blonde, curly-haired waitress walks by with a plate of waffles and fruit. His grandfather spots an empty booth, and they each slide into a vinyl-covered bench the color of pea soup.
"H-how do you say 'waffles' in Nederlands, Grampa?"
"Nick."
"Ik zal nik eten."
"What?"
The kitchen next to them is noisy, so Daniel speaks louder. "IK ZAL NIK ETEN."
"No, no, Danny," he scolds, his kind, tired face darkening into an angry scowl. "You must call me Nick, not Grampa. And it is very, very wrong to say 'I shall eat Nick'."
Daniel slumps lower into the booth seat. The weight in his chest feels heavier. He's always called him Grampa. So many things have changed forever that he's not sure of anything now.
His grandfather continues: "Waffles is wafels. You say 'I would like'. Ik wil graag wafels."
VAH-felz. Change the W sound to a V sound. Easy. The kgrahgch word is much harder; the consonants not at all like English. Daniel takes a deep breath. "Ik wil kra... um, graak… graag wafels."
"Very close."
"H-how do you say milk?" He's surprised to suddenly feel hungry after almost a week of not having an appetite.
"Melk."
"And syrup?"
"Siroop."
The words sound the same as the English ones, only pronounced with a Dutch accent. "Ik wil kra... graag wafels en siroop en melk, atsub-alsub-alstublieft." Why is "please" so many syllables? Daniel sits up straighter. "Ik wil graag wafels en siroop en melk, alstublieft."
"Very good," Daniel's grandfather says sternly, his face impassive. "Your stutter is much improved. Maybe you will become a linguist like your dad."
"But Daddy is- was..." Speaking of his father in past tense is still so new, so frightening. Should "daddy" become only one syllable, like Grampa becoming Nick? "Um, Dad was also an archaeologist. I wanna be an archaeologist like him. And Mommie. Uh, Mom." He looks into Nick's hard, ice-blue eyes, the same color as his mother's. "A-a-and you."
continued
W is for What Would Walter Do?
by gategremlyn
It was 0600 when Walter entered the 'gate room. Yeah, the old girl looked just like he'd left her. He took the stairs two at a time and entered the office. His in-box dribbled paperwork and the outbox didn't look much better. What was it with people? He'd only been gone a week. Couldn't this place survive without him for a week? An envelope on the edge of his desk slid gently to the floor. Obviously not. He shrugged off his jacket and got to work.
When Hammond arrived at 0700, Walter was hard at it. “Welcome back, Sergeant. How was your leave?”
Startled, Walter stood. “You're early, sir.”
“I'm doing the same thing you are, sergeant. I'm trying to get to the bottom of the paperwork.
“Yes, sir.”
“How was your leave?” he asked again.
“Good, sir. Thank you. But it's good to be back to work.”
“Glad to have you back, son.”
“Thank you.”
“I think we both need coffee before we do anything else, don't you?”
“I'm on it, sir.”
He delivered a fresh cup of coffee to his boss and placed his own on the file cabinet.
Right. He needed to organize this mess. He tackled the in-box first, sorting phone messages from external mail from internal mail. He sorted the outbox, putting to-be-filed mission reports on the top. Those were the ones he wanted to see first. What trouble had the teams gotten into without him?
The first file had pictures of SG4 infected by something that looked like poison ivy. He skimmed the report. They'd been quarantined for five days and were on medical leave until next week. The next file on SG9 had a report of Jaffa activity on P49 552.
SG1's file was the one he'd been waiting for. The 'gateroom pictures told their own story: Teal'c with hair, Colonel O'Neill with blue jeans, Doctor Jackson with a jacket that really didn't look all that different from the civilian clothes he'd seen in Jackson's locker, and Samantha Carter in a pair of round, pink glasses. He hoped Siler had video footage.
continued
X is for Xenogeneic
by traycer_
Plausible Deniability
They had come to rebel against him. Just as their ancestors had thousands of years ago.
But Ra was xenogeneic, derived from the Goa'uld and he stared at the humans, determined that they would not succeed. They would never succeed.
His thoughts went to the bomb these humans had brought with them. They had come far in their knowledge, much farther than he thought they would. Their weapons, the bomb. But Ra would not be defeated. He was their god, and he would prove it to the people of this planet. He would put an end to this rebellion before it began.
He turned to look at the humans, relishing in their subservient attitude. They were on their knees as they should be. Yet something about them was familiar. Ra searched his memory, relying on the reliability of the Goa'uld recall, until he found what he was looking for. He focused his thoughts on the faces of those who led the rebellion on Earth, two of which appeared to be kneeling before him.
He stood up and walked toward his captives. The resemblance was uncanny. They appeared to be younger, but Ra had heard of the experiments of the Ancient ones. They must have succeeded in making time travel a possibility, and somehow these mere humans had gained access to that technology.
Or will gain access, perhaps. He stared at the younger versions of the men who led the rebellion that forced him to flee his kingdom during his reign on Earth and swiftly chose an approach to determine the truth.
"Show yourselves," he ordered his Jaffa.
continued
Y is for Yearning
by zeilfanaat
They couldn’t change things. It could cause a butterfly effect. Probably would. It was dangerous enough just being back in time. As Carter had said, they had to focus on damage control.
And yet…
He’d listened as his team had discussed the possible opportunities of going back in time. Wryly amused at Daniel’s enthusiasm at the thought of going back in time to see with his own eyes what he could only read or theorize about now. Heard Teal’c’s comment on being able to change or influence important historical events.
And all he heard was that one gunshot. He flinched, as if hearing it for real again, the sound echoing through his mind.
As often as he’d revisited those moments, and had punished himself for it, he’d never allowed his mind to wonder ‘what if?’. Whenever his thoughts would turn in that direction, he would push them away, lock them up in a mental vault, and focus on something else.
He had played that game early on his career, and he knew it was both futile and damaging. That blown up mission in East Germany in 1982 had shown him that. How often he had not gone over that mission again in his head, to try and figure out what they could have done differently… He’d driven himself nuts. And in the end, it was useless.
In the aftermath of the mission with the Keeper, Jack knew his team had wondered why it was that particular mission that he and Teal’c had been set to relive. Why not the one thing that jumped into everyone’s mind as ‘number one occurrence to change’? He had considered it himself.
The Keeper had definitely been going for the big impact memories. And while there was no question that that mission in East Germany was right up there, if there was one occurrence in his life that had a huge impact, losing his son… well, that was just in its own private category. So why had he not let Jack try and save his son? Jack could venture a guess as to why.
continued
Z is for ZPM
Flight of Future Days
by goddess47
"Unscheduled off world activation!"
Sam Carter locked her computer screen and went racing to the Gate room. She tapped her foot impatiently when she had to wait for an elevator to go down the four floors to the Gate Room.
"What do you have?" she demanded, dropping into the seat next to Walter.
He nodded at the now quiet Gate. "We had a brief connection, but no IDC," he replied. "The source seems to be blocked but it was an 8 symbol address."
"Pegasus?" Sam asked.
"Need to verify that," Walter replied. "But there was a data burst. I've isolated it for you to look at."
"Thanks," Sam answered absently. She started to dig into the Gate logs to see what she could find out about the dial-in.
"Okay, almost certain this was from Pegasus," Sam decided, starting to read the logs. "But it's not an address I'm familiar with."
"What ya got, Carter?" Jack O'Neill gave the illusion of wandering into the Gate Room. Sam knew he had been in meetings with yet another group of IOA representatives, all of who were attempting to blame the SGC for 'losing' the city of Atlantis.
O'Neill was 'hiding' from Homeworld Security and Washington politicians at the SGC. His rationale was that their off world allies needed some care-and-feeding, but he really just wanted to hang out where he could 'get his head on straight.'
Sam secretly cheered on McKay, Sheppard and Woolsey for stealing Atlantis, leaving Earth six months ago to go back to Pegasus. There was even a part of her that wished they had asked her to go with them, but she knew she could help everyone better from Earth.
"Brief wormhole, made contact before dropping, probably from Pegasus but we won't know for sure until we do some more analysis," she reported. "Walter has a data burst that was received when the worm hole was connected. It's isolated at the moment, and the next thing we're going to look at."
"Atlantis?" O'Neill asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shrugged. "Most likely, but we won't know for a bit."
"Think it's something malicious?" O'Neill went on.
"Again, no idea," she replied. "If it's really Atlantis, I'm going with 'probably not.' But we'll handle it with kid gloves until we know more."
"Okay, then." She knew O'Neill was as frustrated as she was with those answers. "Keep me in the loop."
"Will do," she replied.
continued
Enjoy over 54,000 words of time travel gen fic! Ratings range from G to PG-13, and expect spoilers from pre- to post-series. Due to the nature of time travel, there are multiple references to canonical and/or temporary character deaths. Two cooks offered wallpapers as extra seasoning, which you'll find at their journals.
Due to LJ entry size constraints, fics are only excerpted. Readers are strongly encouraged to follow the links to complete and comment on the stories at the author's own entries. The complete, unabridged anthology will eventually be posted, as soon as I figure out how; as it stands, it's over the size limit for even Dreamwidth.
A is for Adversary
Diplomacy
by eilidh17
“And this is the ‘gate room.” Jack did a theatrical sweep of his hand as he guided Senator Kinsey through the double blast doors and into the embarkation room, where the Stargate sat silently. “As you can plainly see it’s currently in it’s off mode, but I’ve arranged to give you a little demonstration of this baby in action.”
“A demonstration,” Kinsey purred under his breath, favoring Jack with a sideways glance. “So you’d think nothing of firing up this infernal waste of the taxpayer’s money for my benefit? Colonel, that's exactly the type of recklessness that has gotten this facility in trouble in the first place!”
“Whoa!” Jack raised his hands up in mock surrender. “No such thing happening here, Bob. You don’t mind if I call you that do you?”
“There’s no point in trying to buy me with familiarity and friendship, Colonel. You and I aren’t about to become buddies.”
“Right.” Jack clapped his hands together and smiled. “So, Bob…” He stoutly ignored Kinsey’s death-ray stare and guided him towards the base of the ramp, the ‘gate looming high above them. “About that demonstration… Major Carter and her team have come up with a way to harness the kinetic energy of an outgoing wormhole, storing it so we can supplement our own energy reserves. All very technical if you ask me, but the upshot is that we can spin the orifice and give you a good look at what we do here.”
“Orifice?”
“Just a nickname we’ve given the old girl.”
Appearing a little flustered, Kinsey waved in the direction of the ‘gate. “Oh, very well.”
“Excellent!” Jack looked over his shoulder and up to Teal’c in the control room. “Dial it up, Teal’c.”
continued
B is for Be, Being, Been
by marzipan77
“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been.”
― Kurt Vonnegut
“It won’t work.”
Daniel didn’t look up. A sandstorm was coming, the wind picked up grains of sand and scraped them across his cheeks, lodged them in the corners of his eyes beneath his glasses. The tail of his bandana flapped distractingly against the back of his neck.
“Daniel. It never worked.”
“That’s not entirely true.” He laid one hand flat against one stone cube. The Ancient language was not a barrier to him - not any more. Malikai only ever had a partial understanding of the concepts - the philosophies behind the Ancients. He hadn’t lived among them, learned the nuances, and practiced rhetoric with Old Ones who thought of him as a toddler-Godzilla swinging his arms through their pristine Tokyo.
“It never had a chance to work,” he continued, tightening his muscles, ready to begin the machine’s process so that it could take him back. Just a few weeks. Just until before he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He closed his eyes. One of the biggest mistakes of his life. Daniel had quite a few to pick from.
“Hey. This is me. You could at least look at me before you throw me back into hell for three months. Or longer.”
Daniel didn’t want to. He didn’t want to look into those deep set eyes, see the half-smile, and then to look beyond, beyond the surface ease and humor and into the soul of his best friend.
“Jack.”
“Don’t ‘Jack’ me, Daniel. You know this isn’t right.”
He lifted his head and speared the man before him with a sharp glare. “I can do this, Jack. Why can’t you ever believe in me? Just give me the benefit of the doubt? You never-"
“I always believe in you, Daniel.”
Nothing had changed. Jack could still cut him off at the knees with just a few words. Daniel took a stuttering breath and let an ounce more pressure descend on the Ancient time machine.
continued
B is for Bravery
by zeilfanaat
General Hammond was watching them as they returned. He was relieved to see they had made it back. Apparently the cryptic note that he’d given to Sam before they left, had been sufficient - not to mention correct! He’d remembered what the note had said back in 1969. It had been such an incredible experience, that he’d committed the note to memory. Although he had checked the information with Captain Carter’s research later on, just to be sure.
What he hadn’t known was whether SG-1 had figured out that they were the time and dates of two solar flares, which would send them back to nearly 30 years later. Then again, if they hadn’t managed to go back to the future, George was sure they would have found a way to let him know for the ‘next’ time. To use different times or dates, or to be more specific in his note so that when it would happen ‘again’, they would be able to go home. Either that or they had been killed trying to get home. He had tried, back in 1969, to find out, as inconspicuously as he could manage… He hadn’t found anything to indicate they hadn’t made it… but there was only so much he could find out without someone noticing. Especially with the limited knowledge he’d had back then as a Lieutenant.
Once he became the SGC’s commander, he’d wanted to try and find out more. But by then, he had become aware of the complicated politics surrounding the Stargate Program. He’d realised that if he got caught trying to find out more, someone could possibly prevent SG-1 from going through the gate. It needn’t even be someone from the SGC’s enemies. Well-meaning people, concerned for whether or not SG-1 would return, could put a stop to their mission.And that would change the timeline. So even though he had hated sending SG-1 on that mission without knowing if they would make it back… he still let them go.
And so he worried, resigned to waiting. He calculated how much the Colonel would owe him, with interest, if only to keep his mind on the positive track. They would return.
continued
C is for Countdown, Causality, and Close Enough
by ivorygates
Cassie was eighteen the first time Aunt Sam told her the future. It was her birthday: not her real birthday, because Hanka-times and Earth-times didn't match up, but Aunt Sam had given her an "official" birthday of November 4th (because both Janet-mom and Aunt Sam had said, when she first came, that it wouldn't be "fair" for her birthday to be on Halloween).
On November 4th, 2003, Janet-mom has been dead for almost a year.
Nirrti has been dead for two. Cassie has always marked time by the deaths it contains. She'd been 12 when the world ended, twelve-plus-five days when more Tau'ri came (the others, the first ones, were dead).
Uncle Daniel, she thinks, is the only one who really understands what it was like to live on Hanka those last years. The aliens (the Tau'ri ) had been surprised to know the Hankans knew all about the eclipse that was coming, but they always had. The Great Goddess had told them, centuries ago: "With the darkness will come the apocalypse." All the time the Tau'ri were building their observatory, the last of the Hankans were preparing for the end.
There were a lot of children born in the countdown to the Last Days, for the Great Goddess (False Goddess: not a goddess, not even human, an evil lying parasite) had promised them that if the True Child came to be, the apocalypse would be averted. Cassie was the last child ever born on Hanka, born too late to be their salvation: you had to be sixteen to go into the forest. To be tested.
With every son or daughter who went to the forest, the Hankans hoped the True Child would be revealed. But everyone who went to the forest returned, and so the Hankans knew there would be no reprieve. Cassie had felt so proud to be treated as the adult she knew she would never live to become on the day Mama brought home the Final Cup from the temple, saying that they would all drink together on the Day of Darkness. (Many had not waited, once hope was gone. Each month, each year, more of the village houses had stood empty.) Cassie and her family had worked for days preparing their Feast of Leavetaking.
For nothing.
Five days before the Last Day, plague struck.
continued
D is for Don't Look Back
by sg-wonderland
“So,” Jack nestled another log into the dying fire. “1969. What a year.”
Daniel clasped the tin cup holding his coffee; Jack fervently hoped he wasn’t preparing an oral dissertation about the differences of 1969 coffee and the current offering. They’d all been subjected to babblings about any number of things, none of which were about the really important stuff like the moon landing, the Mets and Woodstock.
“Actually, sir, I’ve been thinking,” Sam piped up while Daniel was drawing breath, “I wonder if we haven’t already inadvertently shifted the time line.”
“Because?” Jack stretched out his legs.
“Because Project Blue Book’s official end date was December of 1969 and was officially closed in January of 1970.”
“You think our being here may have caused it?” Daniel frowned.
“It makes a certain kind of sense.”
“It does. But who have we interacted with that has that kind of power?”
“That’s probably out of our scope of reasoning although I suppose it is possible….”
“So, 1969,” Jack drawled. “What were you guys doing?”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly. “We were in Greece. My parents and I. My mother was sick that whole summer. She seemed to be really sick but I’m relying on the memories of a four-year-old.”
“I thought you were four and a half?”
Daniel grinned. “When Mama said no, I would always tell her I was four and a half or five and a half or whatever. Even if it was the day after my birthday, I would add that ‘and a half!’”.
“You had to be the worst brat in the world.” Jack shook his head.
“I sometimes, mostly, well, almost always got my way. The advantage of being an only child, I suppose.” Daniel blinked innocently.
continued
E is for Excellent (said the time traveler to her fellow)
by jedibuttercup
Sam regarded the baked confection on her plate with a slight frown, then lowered her fork, rolling the bite she'd taken around in her mouth.
"No," she shook her head, carefully analyzing the flavor profile. "You're right, it's not the same. I don't know if it's the crust, or if there's some ingredient missing, or what, but it's just not the same pie."
"Given that it was 1969, maybe we're better off not knowing what that ingredient was," the colonel replied with a wry twist to his mouth. He was already more than halfway through his own piece of pecan pie, imperfect or not; he gestured at her with another forkful. "Especially considering our hosts were on their way to Woodstock."
"Now, be fair, sir," Sam replied wryly, "Michael and Jenny were very helpful. We'd never have made it to New York and D.C. in time without their assistance."
"Particularly after they found out we were 'aliens'," Jack commented, making air quotes around the last word. "I guess, just so long as we were still enemies of 'the establishment'...." He paused there, mouth pursed, as though he wanted to add to that observation but had decided not to.
Sam sighed and looked down. She'd been wondering, too; and she'd seen at the time how hard it had been for him not to weigh in on the decision facing their hosts. Had Michael run to Canada after all? Or had Jenny tearfully sent him off to Vietnam? Had he ever returned, either way? At the moment, it was Schrödinger's question; she didn't have to face the answer if she didn't know it.
continued
F is for Future Tense
by stringertheory
When George met Jacob, his first thought was of another Carter he had met not long before. He wondered, even then, whether there was a connection between the two. 'Carter' was a common surname, though, and he decided that the odds of the two being related were too slim to even be considered. Still, he couldn't help but search his new friend's face for traces of the young woman who had told him his future.
He and Jacob were both young lieutenants when they met. George had just transferred from Cheyenne Mountain when Jacob discovered him, lost, on the opposite side of the base from where he was meant to be. In the time it took them to walk the width of the base, the roots of a deep friendship were planted. On the surface, the two men couldn't have seemed more different - Jacob energetic and brash, George reserved and methodical - but they got on famously. They shared a strong sense of duty and a deep love of family and country, which had led them both to military careers. They bonded over the similarities and appreciated the differences.
One day, Jacob pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket, unfolding it to show George the pretty woman and two children it featured. George's heart skipped a beat, his eyes drawn immediately to the younger child. What's her name, he asked, heart thundering in his chest, reading the answer in the familiar features of the woman holding her. Samantha, Jacob replied, voice warm with love.
For a split second, George felt sick to his stomach, but almost immediately a sense of calm acceptance replaced his unease. He wasn't one to rely on fate or destiny, but he did believe that some things happened for a reason, that some things were meant to be.
continued
G is for Gravitational Time Dilation and the Consequences of Special Relativity
by splash_the_cat
The strange car parked neatly off the cabin's main driveway had rental plates. Jack pulled his truck up past it, into his usual spot, and gathered his groceries from the back before going to investigate. Nothing identifying was visible through the windows, and nobody stood on the porch waiting for him, so Jack headed around to the back door.
One of the cluster of chairs on the dock was occupied.
Jack let the back door slam shut behind him, though he was certain his visitor already knew he'd arrived. He stowed his groceries and grabbed two beers from the fridge and made his way out to the dock.
Teal'c said nothing until Jack was standing right next to him. "You have increased the size of the platform."
Jack looked down at the fresh wood planks. He kind of missed how it no longer creaked alarmingly with every step. "Yeah, well, all these people keep showing up to sit out here. Had to make some extra room." Jack settled into the other chair and held out the bottle. "Hey."
"Hello, O'Neill." Teal'c took it and twisted off the cap, taking a polite sip before setting it near his feet. Jack did the same, and leaned back to enjoy the last of the day's heat. After about fifteen minutes of silence, Jack glanced over at Teal'c. It was weird, seeing him aged, not just in body with the white at his temples and the fine lines around his eyes, but there was something else, too. An intangible bow to his back. A weight that even Bra'tac had never shown.
Jack picked up his beer and drained the rest of the bottle in one long pull. "So, you staying for dinner?"
Something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of Teal'c's mouth. "Indeed."
continued
H is for History
by dennydj
She rang the doorbell and waited, pulling her jacket more tightly around her to keep out the brisk early spring breeze. The carved oak door swung open, revealing the familiar face of a dark-haired woman in her early thirties.
“Hello, Allison.”
Allison smiled back. “He’s been asking about you.”
“I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble,” she replied, feeling every one of her seventy-plus years as she crossed the threshold and entered the house.
“No more than usual,” the young nurse laughed as she closed the door and followed her inside.
They stopped in the entry and Allison helped her remove her jacket.
“How is he, really?”
The young woman’s smile evaporated. “The doctor doesn’t know how he’s managed to hang on so long.” Allison looked earnestly into her eyes. “But we do, don’t we?”
She nodded. “Yes, we do. Which makes my visit bittersweet.”
“Maybe you should wait-”
She laid her hand on the nurse’s arm. “No, I have to tell him. It’s what he’s been waiting for.”
Taking a deep breath, she went in search of her long-time friend, Allison at her side. She knew this house well, its familiar halls carpeted in oriental rugs, its walls a museum of masks, weapons, and other odds and ends collected from this world and others.
After a short walk, they arrived at a room that was bright and toasty warm, thanks to the sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the longest wall. They looked out over a bright green meadow surrounded by budding trees, all of it towered over by mountains with snow just beginning to thaw.
There was a fireplace at one end of the room, embers of a fire still glowing softly. Tall bookcases flanked it, crammed full of tomes of all shapes and sizes, some ancient, some new, an occasional photograph dotted among them. A modest mahogany desk sat on the opposite side, its surface covered with more books and papers that spilled over the side and onto the floor.
An antique grand piano was pushed to one side of the room. She remembered when it had once been the center of the room, its music filling the space and holding her enthralled. In its place was an overstuffed chair, which faced the windows. One gnarled hand rested on its arm, its fingers tapping gently. On the opposite side stood an IV pole, a half empty bag hung on its hook, clear tubing snaking its way down to disappear in front of the chair. On a small table nearby, medicine bottles were lined up like chess pieces waiting to be played.
continued
I is for Inherency
by sg1jb
Daniel has only just entered Sam's office when Jack comes bounding in from behind, a wave of energy that laps at Daniel's back, urging him forward out of its path. He steps aside and Jack heads straight for the secondary computer terminal at the near end of Sam's work counter.
″How do you get the internet on this thing?″ He's wiggling the mouse, stabbing at the space bar repeatedly. ″Come on, wake up.″
No one bothers to point out that this terminal is no different than any other on the base, including the one in Jack's office - they all know this is more a case of vim and vigour than it is feigned ignorance. A short flurry of clicking apparently takes Jack where he wants to be, and as Daniel walks around behind him toward where Sam and Teal'c sit at her desk, he glances at the monitor and cannot help but shake his head at what he sees there.
Jack is typing, filling in the calculator's data fields, as Daniel hikes up a leg to sit on the edge of Sam's desk. Before he has a chance to tell them what Jack is doing, Jack lets out a an ″Aha!″ of discovery. Teal'c wanders over to stand behind Jack, peering over his shoulder.
″Hah,″ Jack proudly tells the room. ″I knew it didn't sound right.″ Daniel rolls his eyes, giving Sam a 'don't ask' shake of his head in response to her questioning look.
″You are using the wrong tool, O'Neill,″ Teal'c says and leans forward to point at something on the screen. ″This one. You must compound the interest.″
Jack knocks Teal'c's hand away, shooting a glare over his shoulder, but there's more clicking, followed by more data entry. ″Well, crap,″ he soon says, and Daniel would laugh except for the fact he's preoccupied with more serious thoughts.
″Surely you do not begrudge General Hammond this, O'Neill.″
Jack shoos Teal'c back toward Sam's desk, following him. ″No, I do not begrudge Hammond this,″ he half-mimics Teal'c's tone. ″I was just checking.″
Daniel wants to tell Teal'c this has nothing to do with the money. Different people have different ways of coming down from stressful situations, and this is Jack's. But he doesn't bother, because he suspects Teal'c well knows this by now; Teal'c is simply yanking Jack's chain.
continued
J is for Just a Little Pocket Change
by thothmes
The woods were quiet, and the fire had died down to embers. The only sound was the sound of the wind in the trees, and an occasional truck downshifting, out of sight up on the road. This particular campsite had been one of the less desirable ones because it was closer to the road, but Jack and Michael, who had picked it out, were more interested in price than communing with nature. The midnight hour had passed long ago, and the others were on the bus, asleep. Well, all except for Teal'c. He would have waited for Jenny and Michael to be sound asleep, and then risen from his pretended sleep to kel'no'reem.
Jack was not ready to sleep, not now, and not anytime soon. Some of it was the inactivity, he knew. Jenny and Michael seemed to be in no particular hurry, and he supposed that if he wanted to get in a run (in his combat boots!) they could get a later start in the morning, but they couldn't afford to miss the solar flares, and if Daniel was not able to get the location of the Stargate out of Catherine, then they would need every single second of the time between flares to try to find the thing, or they were trapped. And that would be unacceptable. Better to drive them all crazy with the restlessness that came when his energy had no other outlet, than to face the problem of what to do with Junior if they couldn't get away. Even Daniel, who seemed to show a particularly low tolerance to Jack's fidgets and drumming would choose that over an early death for Teal'c any day. Year. Time.
Man, oh man, Jack hated time travel. That was the problem, wasn't it? Time. Carter said it was like a river, with currents, eddies, and a destination. She said he shouldn't do anything to change it, that a little thing could make his home, his time, unrecognizable. There was something about butterflies and the weather too, but he didn't quite follow that one. Because he was thinking about the stuff in his pocket.
Not his front jeans pocket, where he had stored the remaining bills from the wad that Hammond had given him. The pocket of his sweet second-hand leather jacket. His hand strayed there now, pulling out three remaining pieces of bubble gum and a handful of change.
continued
K is for Kindness
by milanthruil
The team looked around them and blinked as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of a thankfully empty auditorium. A bright light had surrounded them just seconds before.
“Carter! Where the hell are we and what the hell happened?” Jack griped.
“I’m not sure, sir.” Sam frowned as she realized she had left her gadgets behind on the desk in Daniel’s office at the SGC.
“We appear to have been transported, O’Neill.” Teal’c supplied less-then helpfully.
“I can see that, Teal’c, thanks.” Jack turned to Daniel. “What happened to your office, Daniel?”
Daniel continued to look around the room, a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Daniel!” Jack snapped his fingers in Daniel’s face.
“Sorry, what?” Daniel looked at his friend.
“What happened?”
Daniel scratched at the back of his head. “This artifact I’ve been studying.” He held up a small granite cube with Ancient writing on it.“It says something about granting ‘desires of the past’. I didn’t really get a chance to examine it before you all showed up. I must have accidentally activated it somehow while we were talking.”
Jack sighed. “All right, folks. Let’s do a bit of recon and find out where we are. And more importantly, how do we get back home.”
The team made their way out of the darkened auditorium and came face to face with a wall of Egyptian artefacts. The crease between Daniel’s eyebrows deepened and the knot he’d been feeling in his gut grew colder.
Sam looked around at the architecture and pursed her lips. “Something feels vaguely familiar about this place.”
Daniel took a few step to the left to examine a placard next to one of the artefacts. He noticed the logo and the name of the museum in the corner of the white rectangle. He whipped his head around to look more closely at the other statues and works of art. “It can’t be.” He let out a disbelieving laugh.
continued
L is for Loop
by immertreu
“We're lost.” Daniel stated the obvious, but as always, Jack couldn't resist the challenge.
“We're not lost,” their team leader replied while constantly checking their surroundings for any threat. “Just taking the scenic route.”
“Then where are the sights?” Daniel replied deadpan.
Sam snorted and hid her grin behind a stern expression the moment her CO regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “Sir, I think Daniel's right. Sir,” she added for good measure, but she knew Jack wasn't fooled. He motioned for her to continue, and she complied. “We've walked through this doorway three times already. Notice the chipped step, sir? It's the same every time we end up here - wherever here is.”
Jack stared at the damaged sill and scowled. “No fair, Carter. That's not possible.”
This time, she did grin at him. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Daniel chuckled at their antics, knowing full well that his friends were trying to lighten the mood and not think of their missing team member and their predicament. Somehow, Teal'c had stayed behind the first time they stepped through the door leading further into the ancient temple SG-1 had been sent to investigate - ancient not with capital A, for a change.
Daniel had led the way, following the light of his powerful flashlight into the alluring depths of the hallway whose walls were adorned with foreign writing he couldn't read - yet. Sam and her curious nose for advanced technology had followed close behind. Jack had been one step ahead of Teal'c, their rear-guard, crossing the threshold a few seconds before their resident Jaffa. Suddenly the three human team members were alone in the building, no sign of Teal'c or the light he was carrying to be found. The hallway they found themselves in was slightly illuminated by sconces set into the walls - power source unknown.
They had turned back immediately, but the doorway had - for lack of a better word - refused to let them through. There was no door, no energy field or any other explanation for the resistance they met when they tried to cross the threshold again. It was like walking into an invisible wall. A slightly elastic wall, for that matter. The room that lay behind was blanketed in impenetrable darkness. Or maybe the invisible shield was fooling them again.
Having no choice and not being able to raise Teal'c on the radio, they had cautiously continued onward - only to stumble into a maze. The whole temple seemed to be one huge labyrinth.
Keeping to the left had worked as well as following the opposite way - meaning they somehow always ended up at the beginning.
continued
M is for Moebius
by sg_fignewton
"Where does the greater arrogance lie?"
Sam paused, fingers stilling, then deliberately continued to smooth out the sand where she'd laboriously scrawled her equations. She'd had this conversation too often lately.
"We can't erase our presence here as easy as that, Sam." The voice was probably gentle enough, but the underlying edge of tension scraped against her nerves.
"No," she agreed, blinking eyes that had been too dry for too long. "It's too late for that. But we can still try to minimize the damage."
"Bit presumptuous, isn't it? Deciding that our set future matters more than the possible futures of millions."
"It's even more presumptuous to decide which millions of lives matter," she said quietly, her gaze fixed downwards. She didn't need to look up to visualize Daniel's knitted brows and stubborn expression. "We don't have the right to choose."
"What's worse, then? Letting everyone suffer for a future we hope is still out there, or trying to twist things to make a better future and running the risk of making it even worse?" Sam thought she felt a shift in the air, visualized Daniel's restless hands sketching aimless patterns. "Maybe the arrogance lies in assuming that what we do really matters in the long run. Maybe time is more resilient that we think."
"And maybe," Sam told the floor, "this is too great a focal point to get blurred over the centuries."
Ra was still here, the revolt crushed. Was their failure only a prelude? Would another uprising take place, a year or a decade or a century from now? Maybe it was arrogance to assume that their presence here mattered so much. Maybe the weight of history would drown out their floundering in the sands of the past.
Or maybe their restless impatience had sent a deadly ripple through time that would destroy the hope of Earth's future as a planet free of Goa'uld oppression.
"We might have destroyed the future." Forcing herself to say it aloud didn't make it hurt any less.
"We might have destroyed a future, Sam. It might not even have been ours. And isn't it arrogance personified to insist it was the optimal one?"
continued
N is for Nevermore
by traycer_
Stars filled the sky as Jack stared up at the heavens. His telescope set up and ready to go next to his chair, but he didn't use it. He only wanted to think, and to let the solitude of the night sky soothe his worries. Or in this case, his fears.
He took a swig of the beer he brought with him, while his thoughts took him to the planet where Malikai tried his best to recreate history. Jack shook his head as he looked down at the bottle in his hand. He still couldn't manage to even comprehend why anyone would want to go through with the devastation that came with watching someone you loved die. It defied reason, as far as he was concerned.
Yet he turned his attention back to the sky once more, and wondered once again what it would be like to have Charlie here with him. What would they be doing right now?
He shook his head again. Why do this now, he thought wearily, although deep down, he knew the answer to that question. Malikai had brought back those "what-if" thoughts again, and Jack knew he was going to have to struggle with the memories for a bit. Just as he had to deal with it after they returned from their journey to the past when they had gated to 1969. That trip had brought on crazy ideas of figuring out a way to go back to save Charlie, and Jack was still ticked off at the futility of those thoughts. He glared up at the stars. No way was he going to do that again. It served no purpose, he told himself firmly. Charlie was dead. Nothing Jack did was going to bring him back. He took another swig and grimaced. They had the ability to travel through time, even if finding the next solar flare was sketchy at best, and there wasn't a thing he could do to bring his son back.
So that's it, he thought as he drained the bottle and set it down on the table next to him. Never again.
continued
O is for Oops
by badfalcon
"Oops." Sam pulled a face and winced as the machine in front of her sparked blue and made a mechanical whining sound. She slid her chair backwards and sucked two fingers into her mouth. She muttered around them, half under her breath, and moved around the table as she studiously ignored the looks she could feel both Daniel and the Colonel were shooting her.
"Oops?" O'Neill repeated and looked over her shoulder, his hand on the table. He raised an eyebrow when she looked up at him. "What do you mean 'oops', Carter?"
"I..." She trailed off and jumped as the machine sparked again. She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, her eyes widened at the sight of the little grey wisps of smoke that had started to seep from one corner of the machine. "Damn it!"
"I think she means 'oops' as in it wasn't supposed to do that," Daniel offered, and Sam could hear the laughter in his voice.
"I'm not really sure what it is supposed to do," she admitted. "Maybe this is normal activity for it?"
O'Neill snorted and leant with his hip against the edge of the table. "Right. Normal. When has anything about anything we bring back through the 'gate been normal?""
Sam looked at Daniel and shrugged; O'Neill was right, maybe normal hadn't been the right word.
"Normal's relative," Daniel pointed out, as he picked up his coffee cup and wrapped his hands around it. "Maybe it's normal for a... for a whatever it is. Although," he continued carefully, "maybe you shouldn't be poking it with a screwdriver until..."
A bright flash of light and a crack of sound that reminded Sam of a firework echoed around the room. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked rapidly as she tried to work out what had just happened.
"Until you know what it does." Daniel finished with a sigh. “Yeah.”
"... you gone completely insane, Daniel?"
"Um. Not that I'm aware of," Daniel replied as Sam realised that there was another O'Neill in front of Daniel. Sam slowly turned her head to the side; O'Neill was still leaning against Sam's desk.
"Um." She looked back at the man in front of him; a little greyer, a little older but definitely O'Neill.
"Sam?" Daniel asked, she could see the confusion on his face at the sudden appearance.
"There's..." Sam's eyes widened and she blinked rapidly. There were two O'Neills in her lab; they were circling each other, eyeing each other up and poking each other in the chest. "Daniel, there's two of them."
"Yeah, I noticed," Daniel nodded.
continued
P is for Paradox
by roeskva
“What’s up, Sam?” Daniel asked, when his teammate again stopped and looked around. It was the third time since they arrived, and they had only walked maybe half a mile from the Stargate.
Sam shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just... this planet looks familiar, somehow.”
“I’m sure we haven’t been here before,” Daniel said.
“No, I know. But I think Jolinar has,” Sam observed. She frowned. “Teal’c, I think maybe you should hide your forehead symbol before we reach the nearest town. We’ll have to pass through there to get to the ruins.”
“Why? Didn’t you say this world belonged to Sokar? He’s dead!” O’Neill said. “The planet should be free of any Goa’uld.”
“True, even before Sokar was killed, Tokal - the minor Goa’uld he had left in charge of this world - was rarely here. He was in charge of three other planets as well, and I think he preferred to live on one of those. Anyway, according to the Tok’ra, Tokal was visiting Sokar and was aboard his ship when it was destroyed, so this world is free now. The population here may still react badly to what looks like the First Prime of Apophis, though. Sokar and Apophis were enemies.” Sam insisted. “It’s just a precaution, sir.”
“It is a valid concern. I will do as you suggest, Major Carter,” Teal’c said.
“Here - take this.” Daniel handed him the bandana he had been wearing. “That should work.”
“Thank you, Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c put it on.
“Okay, can we move on?” O’Neill asked, a bit annoyed.
Daniel frowned. “What’s wrong, Jack?”
“This mission is a huge waste of time! SG-2 could have handled it - we’re only here because of those ruins they found,” he grumbled.
“And that I wanted to take a look at. I’m sorry!” Daniel said, looking miffed. “It’s just that it sounded like something we ought to check out. Some of these ruins were in unusual good condition, and there was writing which might indicate the people who lived here were related to the Furling!”
“I know, Daniel! I know!” O’Neill gave him a tired smile. “Just... try not to take the whole week? There’s a Simpsons marathon on television tomorrow.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’ll try...”
continued
Q is for Questing
by izhilzha
Dr. Janet Fraser made sure her gloves were snugly in place before adjusting the space blanket over Dr. Johnson, the botanist attached to SG-17. “You're doing fine,” she assured him, trying to overwhelm his shivering with the force of her words. He stared up at her, shocky, speechless. She gave up talking and smoothed his hair back until his eyes fluttered closed.
The eyes were the worst. The veined pattern under the skin, brown edged with blood red, could be any rash; the pain from impaired nerve function was less terrible than some diseases; but she'd never seen the black iris itself threaded with pale brown and green, both aqueous and vitreous fluids invaded. Nothing seemed to slow it; nothing they had access to.
Major Mansfield, the leader of SG-17, crouched beside her. “Nothing?”
Janet shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe if the SGC can get us that new anti-fungal drug in the next drop....” She shrugged. Focused on what news Mansfield might have. “Nothing from SG-1, huh?”
“Not a sign.” The man scrubbed a hand across his face. “Ever since they picked up those carved rods and twisted them-poof. Nothing.”
Janet took a deep breath, then another. “They'll be back. Hopefully with some new ideas.” Mansfield gave her a cynical look. “I trust Dr. Jackson's linguistic skills. They knew what they were getting into when they decided to use those artifacts.”
“If you say so, ma'am.” Mansfield paced back towards the crumbling walls of the ruin. To the makeshift camp where SG-17 huddled, studying, dozing, trying not to panic at every twinge of a foot fallen asleep.
You'd better, Janet thought fiercely, imagining what strange times SG-1 might have sent themselves to. Roasting hot summer (unlike the mild weather currently outside these walls), wars, non-fungal epidemics... oh, so many possibilities. You'd better have some idea what you just got yourselves, and the rest of us, into here. You'd just better come back.
continued
R is for Rift
by Topazowl
“Jack, what are you doing here again?” Some scenarios repeat themselves and General Jack O’Neill stood in full dress blues at the door of Doctor Daniel Jackson’s office.
“Nice to see you too, Daniel. Wish it was in better circumstances but I need you in the briefing room, NOW,” he finished with a louder voice as it was obvious that Daniel was about to prevaricate.
Suitably chastised, Daniel rose and they headed to the elevator.
“Gonna give me a clue?
“Nope.”
“Not even a teensy, weensy one?”
“Only think 1969.” Daniel shut up; that was a cue word they used to indicate something was amiss with a timeline.
*
Landry was already there talking to Mitchell and Vala. Sam came running up the stairs from below as she saw her two friends. Only Teal’c was missing, on Chulak. They all moved to the large table to sit with Landry one end and O’Neill the other.
“Jack?” Landry handed the meeting to O’Neill.
“I had a secure link phone call from Wales of all places,” - Daniel sniggered and was glared at - “from a deniable group of people who call themselves Torchwood. They are based in Cardiff where there is supposed to be a rift in the space-time continuum which occasionally throws out or drags in people or entities. This time it has thrown out a humdinger of a problem, a 90 year old Doctor Daniel Jackson!”
“Wow!” was Sam’s reaction. The colour drained from Daniel’s face. Vala laughed and commented on how it would be good to see if he’d worn well. Mitchell just looked confused.
“And what’s it mean for SG1, Sir?”
“Mitchell, you are gonna take a couple of your team to Cardiff and interview this guy, maybe bring him back here, depending on circumstances of course, and then we will act accordingly.” Daniel’s finger went up; Jack sighed.
“I think, Jack, that I speak for us all when I say it’s SG1 or no-one. We are a team and you damn well know that!”
Jack looked at Landry and shrugged.
“He said you’d say that,” Landry stated. “You have a go SG1 and as the Daedalus is home from Atlantis, beam up in one hour at 1300. Jack, you may want to tell them a little more before they go.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Four pairs of eyes glared at General O’Neill; he continued to give them a little background on Torchwood which is an institution that concentrates on tracking down aliens who come through the space time rift.
continued
S is for Stars in the Sky
by eilidh17
The truth of all history died with those who created it
Shadows danced across the fresco on the mud brick wall of the small workshop, thrown out by the flame from a beeswax candle that was nearing the end of its usefulness. In the far corner, away from the cold night air that flowed in through an open doorway, an old man looked down at the tablet he was working on and blew away a fine coating of siltstone dust that had built up around his latest glyph.
He closed his eyes and ran a finger over the engraving, noting edges needing to be dressed further and troughs that could be deeper. Unlike those around him, the old man had a unique concept of history and knew exactly what was required for the future to better comprehend the past. Kings lived and died here, their legacies contained in mastaba tombs that echoed the wealth of their reign, reflected in the luxuries they took with them to the afterlife. It was an enlightened view, this notion that living in the here and now was just a step along a greater path, but it was also unfortunate that the only footprints to be seen on that path were those of kings. The old man knew better, and so left the glorifying of deeds and recording of religious events to the scribes of this time, all the while making sure his future would have a greater understanding of all he endured for them.
"You are called to court, my friend."
The old man looked up and squinted at the figure standing before him. The shuffle of feet on the dusty floor and the way the shadows on the wall lived and died when someone walked in the path of the candle was all he needed to know that his quiet solitude had been broken.
"Again?" he grumbled as he put his chisel aside and dusted his hands off on his tunic. "This will be the fourth time in as many days."
"He favors your counsel above most in the kingdom."
"That may be true, but I fear our king has become a little indecisive in his old age."
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T Is For Temporal, Being
by magnavox_23
“Tell me again why we’re playing with black holes? In particular this black hole, of which I am none too fond…”
Sam held back an eye roll as she and Teal’c carried her equipment down the steps from the gate. “This is the closest planet with a gate to the black hole, aside from P3W-451 of course, and a recent scouting mission by the Prometheus suggests the black hole’s gravity has just reached this planet. So, it seems an ideal time to measure the effects of that gravity from a relatively safe distance.” Sam’s poker face was firmly in place before Jack swung around to glare at her. “Sir.”
“Fine!” Jack snapped off. “Just tell me the moment things start… sucking.”
Sam nodded enthusiastically.
“Ok, Sam knows what she is doing. Daniel, Teal’c, you can set up camp, and I will secure the perimeter. Back in ten.”
Daniel watched as Jack resettled his weapon and strode off. “He’s not happy about this mission.”
“Colonel O’Neill believes in ‘letting sleeping ghosts lie’, though ghosts require no sleep.” Teal’c set about unpacking their supplies.
*
Jack couldn’t stop himself from staring up at the sky, wondering for a glimpse of the back hole, even though in reality, he knew it would be impossible to see. Sam had explained the acute angle of the accretion disc relative to this world, but Jack knew it was out there.
The crunch of leaves underfoot andsoft breeze did nothing to belay the unease Jack felt about being here.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention the moment they had stepped foot through the gate.Now, he trod wearily, senses alert for anything to explain the feeling in his gut.
He picked his way through the forest, climbing fallen tree logs and watched the vines twist and turn in sunbeams. Any other place, and Jack would have thought it quite serene.
It was when he bent down onsmall rocks next to a stream to retrieve a water sample for Sam to test, that Jack became aware of the presence behind him. Slowly he fingered the safety off his weapon. He rose to full height, ready to turn.
“Colonel O’Neill!”
Jack spun around, finding nothing but earth, and a sunbeam not quite as still as the others. Then a face appeared. “Jack!”
The light shifted toward him and Jack took an automatic step back, which caused him to slip on the rocks and fall backwards into the shallow stream.
Henry Boyd floated above him.
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U is for Unrealized Reality
by antonomasia09
“From every point of entry - a wormhole branches into multiple paths. The subdivision continues until at length you are deposited back into space/time. The journey can be random, or with purpose. Destination is the key. Every portal has a distinct space/time signature. The only destinations you can realize, by design, are those of which you have foreknowledge. The more you travel, the more signatures you will catalogue. Our Ancients have given you the ability to recognize these subtle differences. Since every destination is surrounded by similar unrealized realities, the closer you travel, the more you must maintain absolute engrossment. And never return to a familiar place prior to the last time you left. Your next journey may lead to a permanent unrealized reality.” - various, “Unrealized Reality” (Farscape)
Teal’c is in a vast desert, nothing but gently sloping sands as far as his eye can see in every direction. There is no Stargate, no sign of how he came to be here. The cannon he used to destroy Tanith’s ship is still in his hands. He grasps it tightly lest it disappear, as the Stargate must have.
At the sound of a faint clanking noise behind him, he whirls around. A man stands there who was not present a moment before. He looks roughly the same age as Bra’tac and is wearing Jaffa armor, but he is no Jaffa; he does not carry himself as a warrior does, even an old one, and he bears no weapons. His eyes are flat black, the opposite of a Goa’uld’s flashing gold. There are no footprints in the soft sand to indicate which direction he came from.
“Who are you?” Teal’c asks. His cannon is very visibly pointed at the man, who gives no outward sign that this distresses him at all.
“My name is unimportant.” The man pauses. “However, a being I once encountered from the planet to which you were traveling denominated me ‘Einstein.’”
Teal’c wonders who exactly from Earth Einstein has met and how the alien knows his intended destination. There are more pressing matters, though. “You are not a Jaffa,” he challenges, hoping that pointing out the obvious fallacy will not anger the man.
Fortunately, it does not. “I took this form to facilitate communication,” Einstein concedes easily.
He reminds Teal’c of the Asgard, somewhat. The same bluntness, the same sense of superiority. That, combined with the stated desire for communication rather than violence, is reassuring. Teal’c lowers his weapon. “Where am I?” he asks.
“You are within the wormhole network. This scenery is a construct I have devised so as to make you more comfortable.” For an instant, the world around them grows cold, icy, with black water swirling at Teal’c’s feet, but then the landscape settles into endless desert once more.
“Why am I here?” he asks.
“Your Stargate malfunctioned as a result of a massive burst of energy while you were in transit; hence, you were unable to rematerialize at your destination.”
continued
V is for VAH-fels
by campylobacter
The bell over the door makes a musical ring as he and his grandfather enter. Daniel hasn't eaten much of anything in two days, and is surprised when his mouth waters at the sweet scent of maple syrup. The aroma is the same as when his parents took him to a Rhode Island sugarhouse over a year ago, when the snow was beginning to melt.
The sign on the hostess podium says, "Please SEAT YOURSELF". A short, blonde, curly-haired waitress walks by with a plate of waffles and fruit. His grandfather spots an empty booth, and they each slide into a vinyl-covered bench the color of pea soup.
"H-how do you say 'waffles' in Nederlands, Grampa?"
"Nick."
"Ik zal nik eten."
"What?"
The kitchen next to them is noisy, so Daniel speaks louder. "IK ZAL NIK ETEN."
"No, no, Danny," he scolds, his kind, tired face darkening into an angry scowl. "You must call me Nick, not Grampa. And it is very, very wrong to say 'I shall eat Nick'."
Daniel slumps lower into the booth seat. The weight in his chest feels heavier. He's always called him Grampa. So many things have changed forever that he's not sure of anything now.
His grandfather continues: "Waffles is wafels. You say 'I would like'. Ik wil graag wafels."
VAH-felz. Change the W sound to a V sound. Easy. The kgrahgch word is much harder; the consonants not at all like English. Daniel takes a deep breath. "Ik wil kra... um, graak… graag wafels."
"Very close."
"H-how do you say milk?" He's surprised to suddenly feel hungry after almost a week of not having an appetite.
"Melk."
"And syrup?"
"Siroop."
The words sound the same as the English ones, only pronounced with a Dutch accent. "Ik wil kra... graag wafels en siroop en melk, atsub-alsub-alstublieft." Why is "please" so many syllables? Daniel sits up straighter. "Ik wil graag wafels en siroop en melk, alstublieft."
"Very good," Daniel's grandfather says sternly, his face impassive. "Your stutter is much improved. Maybe you will become a linguist like your dad."
"But Daddy is- was..." Speaking of his father in past tense is still so new, so frightening. Should "daddy" become only one syllable, like Grampa becoming Nick? "Um, Dad was also an archaeologist. I wanna be an archaeologist like him. And Mommie. Uh, Mom." He looks into Nick's hard, ice-blue eyes, the same color as his mother's. "A-a-and you."
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W is for What Would Walter Do?
by gategremlyn
It was 0600 when Walter entered the 'gate room. Yeah, the old girl looked just like he'd left her. He took the stairs two at a time and entered the office. His in-box dribbled paperwork and the outbox didn't look much better. What was it with people? He'd only been gone a week. Couldn't this place survive without him for a week? An envelope on the edge of his desk slid gently to the floor. Obviously not. He shrugged off his jacket and got to work.
When Hammond arrived at 0700, Walter was hard at it. “Welcome back, Sergeant. How was your leave?”
Startled, Walter stood. “You're early, sir.”
“I'm doing the same thing you are, sergeant. I'm trying to get to the bottom of the paperwork.
“Yes, sir.”
“How was your leave?” he asked again.
“Good, sir. Thank you. But it's good to be back to work.”
“Glad to have you back, son.”
“Thank you.”
“I think we both need coffee before we do anything else, don't you?”
“I'm on it, sir.”
He delivered a fresh cup of coffee to his boss and placed his own on the file cabinet.
Right. He needed to organize this mess. He tackled the in-box first, sorting phone messages from external mail from internal mail. He sorted the outbox, putting to-be-filed mission reports on the top. Those were the ones he wanted to see first. What trouble had the teams gotten into without him?
The first file had pictures of SG4 infected by something that looked like poison ivy. He skimmed the report. They'd been quarantined for five days and were on medical leave until next week. The next file on SG9 had a report of Jaffa activity on P49 552.
SG1's file was the one he'd been waiting for. The 'gateroom pictures told their own story: Teal'c with hair, Colonel O'Neill with blue jeans, Doctor Jackson with a jacket that really didn't look all that different from the civilian clothes he'd seen in Jackson's locker, and Samantha Carter in a pair of round, pink glasses. He hoped Siler had video footage.
continued
X is for Xenogeneic
by traycer_
Plausible Deniability
They had come to rebel against him. Just as their ancestors had thousands of years ago.
But Ra was xenogeneic, derived from the Goa'uld and he stared at the humans, determined that they would not succeed. They would never succeed.
His thoughts went to the bomb these humans had brought with them. They had come far in their knowledge, much farther than he thought they would. Their weapons, the bomb. But Ra would not be defeated. He was their god, and he would prove it to the people of this planet. He would put an end to this rebellion before it began.
He turned to look at the humans, relishing in their subservient attitude. They were on their knees as they should be. Yet something about them was familiar. Ra searched his memory, relying on the reliability of the Goa'uld recall, until he found what he was looking for. He focused his thoughts on the faces of those who led the rebellion on Earth, two of which appeared to be kneeling before him.
He stood up and walked toward his captives. The resemblance was uncanny. They appeared to be younger, but Ra had heard of the experiments of the Ancient ones. They must have succeeded in making time travel a possibility, and somehow these mere humans had gained access to that technology.
Or will gain access, perhaps. He stared at the younger versions of the men who led the rebellion that forced him to flee his kingdom during his reign on Earth and swiftly chose an approach to determine the truth.
"Show yourselves," he ordered his Jaffa.
continued
Y is for Yearning
by zeilfanaat
They couldn’t change things. It could cause a butterfly effect. Probably would. It was dangerous enough just being back in time. As Carter had said, they had to focus on damage control.
And yet…
He’d listened as his team had discussed the possible opportunities of going back in time. Wryly amused at Daniel’s enthusiasm at the thought of going back in time to see with his own eyes what he could only read or theorize about now. Heard Teal’c’s comment on being able to change or influence important historical events.
And all he heard was that one gunshot. He flinched, as if hearing it for real again, the sound echoing through his mind.
As often as he’d revisited those moments, and had punished himself for it, he’d never allowed his mind to wonder ‘what if?’. Whenever his thoughts would turn in that direction, he would push them away, lock them up in a mental vault, and focus on something else.
He had played that game early on his career, and he knew it was both futile and damaging. That blown up mission in East Germany in 1982 had shown him that. How often he had not gone over that mission again in his head, to try and figure out what they could have done differently… He’d driven himself nuts. And in the end, it was useless.
In the aftermath of the mission with the Keeper, Jack knew his team had wondered why it was that particular mission that he and Teal’c had been set to relive. Why not the one thing that jumped into everyone’s mind as ‘number one occurrence to change’? He had considered it himself.
The Keeper had definitely been going for the big impact memories. And while there was no question that that mission in East Germany was right up there, if there was one occurrence in his life that had a huge impact, losing his son… well, that was just in its own private category. So why had he not let Jack try and save his son? Jack could venture a guess as to why.
continued
Z is for ZPM
Flight of Future Days
by goddess47
"Unscheduled off world activation!"
Sam Carter locked her computer screen and went racing to the Gate room. She tapped her foot impatiently when she had to wait for an elevator to go down the four floors to the Gate Room.
"What do you have?" she demanded, dropping into the seat next to Walter.
He nodded at the now quiet Gate. "We had a brief connection, but no IDC," he replied. "The source seems to be blocked but it was an 8 symbol address."
"Pegasus?" Sam asked.
"Need to verify that," Walter replied. "But there was a data burst. I've isolated it for you to look at."
"Thanks," Sam answered absently. She started to dig into the Gate logs to see what she could find out about the dial-in.
"Okay, almost certain this was from Pegasus," Sam decided, starting to read the logs. "But it's not an address I'm familiar with."
"What ya got, Carter?" Jack O'Neill gave the illusion of wandering into the Gate Room. Sam knew he had been in meetings with yet another group of IOA representatives, all of who were attempting to blame the SGC for 'losing' the city of Atlantis.
O'Neill was 'hiding' from Homeworld Security and Washington politicians at the SGC. His rationale was that their off world allies needed some care-and-feeding, but he really just wanted to hang out where he could 'get his head on straight.'
Sam secretly cheered on McKay, Sheppard and Woolsey for stealing Atlantis, leaving Earth six months ago to go back to Pegasus. There was even a part of her that wished they had asked her to go with them, but she knew she could help everyone better from Earth.
"Brief wormhole, made contact before dropping, probably from Pegasus but we won't know for sure until we do some more analysis," she reported. "Walter has a data burst that was received when the worm hole was connected. It's isolated at the moment, and the next thing we're going to look at."
"Atlantis?" O'Neill asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shrugged. "Most likely, but we won't know for a bit."
"Think it's something malicious?" O'Neill went on.
"Again, no idea," she replied. "If it's really Atlantis, I'm going with 'probably not.' But we'll handle it with kid gloves until we know more."
"Okay, then." She knew O'Neill was as frustrated as she was with those answers. "Keep me in the loop."
"Will do," she replied.
continued