Title: The Asgard Sequence
Author: Gumnut
Email: gumnut@gumnut.net
Website: www.gumnut.net/uncensored
Status: Complete
Category: a little angst, drama, action/adventure, humour, and alien exploration
Pairings: None
Spoilers: Anything up to Season 7
Season: Branches out from 7.10
Sequel/Series Info: The first sequence in the Chronicles of the Alliance.
Rating: PG-13
Content Warnings: Language, violence in some parts, blood
Summary: They may seem alien to us, and us to them, but how much more alien are they to us than we are to ourselves?
Disclaimer: Mine? You gotta be kidding! Money? Don't have any, don't bother.
Author's Note: Thanks heaps to Flatkatsi for the beta, and her wonderful support, I couldn't have done it without her. Thanks also to the Jackficcers. This is all their fault :D

Alien Reflections
Part 1 of the Asgard Sequence
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

They may seem alien to us, and us to them, but how much more alien are they to us than we are to ourselves?

He reached out a hand to touch his skin. Still warm. He could see the slight rise of his chest as he drew in oxygen, but for that there was little movement.

He found it odd. When the human was awake he never stopped moving. Or more precisely, he never stopped talking. But this was the first time he had seen him this still. A heart wrenching absence of movement so uncharacteristic as to illustrate the gravity of his situation.

He had tried to stem the flow of O'Neill's life giving fluids as they seeped through his clothing and on to the floor. Some of the wounds had stopped. Others still dribbled crimson.

Jack O'Neill's life was trickling away, and Thor didn't know what to do.

He had been in this dank, dark dungeon of a room for a long time now. He had seen no-one, spoken to no-one, and wasn't entirely sure how he had gotten here. He didn't even know who his captors were.

Though he had his suspicions.

The place smelled like rank anosweed from the swamps far to the south of his home. A reek that spoke of neglect and putrifying remains. No doubt if O'Neill was awake he'd have to listen to a monologue of complaints. If only he was awake.

It was odd, his reaction to the human. Himself, and his people, had long ago assessed his planet, classified it too primitive, and left it to its own devices. But far sooner than expected the humans had turned up on their doorstep, vying for attention in a universe which they hardly understood, much less could handle.

And at the forefront of these exuberant people, came O'Neill.

Thor hadn't been the first of his race to meet him, but he had seen the reports. A human thrown from the stargate on Othalla, mumbling incoherantly in the Ancient's tongue, his brain addled by their knowledge. They had reached into him and taken the knowledge before it shut his body down. It was remarkable, however, that even though his mind had been barely functioning, he had still found a way to save himself.

This ability had surprised the people of the Asgard. It had been unpredicted, and it had been a while since the unpredictable had happened.

With the minor exception of the Replicators.

Was that sarcasm? He would have to ask O'Neill when he woke.

When the Goa'uld threatened Earth, the Asgard had debated on the viability of using the Protected Planets Treaty to Earth's advantage. It was a risk, much could be lost, but on the words of those who had encountered O'Neill, the council was swayed. Thor had been sent to make preparations.

He had been interested to meet this O'Neill. His reputation throughout Goa'uld space was formidable and he wished to see if his character supported the legend. To see the leader of this impetuous infant race.

On a whim, he had transported O'Neill up without prior contact. To test his reaction to the unexpected.

His lack of reaction to the unexpected was unexpected.

It could have been an everyday occurrence for all the excitement he displayed. A casual look at his planet from several hundreds of his kilometres above it, a couple of questions, and that was it. Thor had been pleasantly surprised. He had been getting rather tired of all the cringing and cowering he got from those primitive humans he happened to encounter from time to time.

No, this one was different. So they had chosen him.

They knew he didn't have the authority to speak for his people. The Asqard knew of the political structure of the planet. But there was something about O'Neill, a sense of abilities yet untapped, that prompted their decision to choose him.

Besides, Thor tended to agree with O'Neill on the subject of politicians.

The body beside him shuddered.

Startled from his reverie, Thor moved closer, again reaching out a hand to touch the soft skin of his cheek.

"O'Neill?"

A soft sigh was all the response he got.

Thor had never felt so helpless. For all his advanced technology, for all the fleet he commanded, he could not do the one thing he wished to do at this moment - save the life of O'Neill.

He had been doing his forty-third reconnaissance loop of the cell when the unconscious O'Neill had been literally thrown into the cell. The door had slammed shut, captor unseen.

O'Neill's prone body had hit the opposite wall and bounced to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Thor had not immediately realised who he was, but after repeated verbal attempts to awaken his new cellmate, he had ventured closer. The human was much bigger than himself, but the Asgard was able to move the arm covering the face peering awkwardly into the concrete. He had gasped aloud when he recognised O'Neill.

Beneath the swollen eye and split lip breathed the human he had come to call friend. What was he doing here?

The small puddle of deep red blood forming beneath him spoke of horrific injury and he was hardly breathing. Thor knew little of human medical needs, but he did know the purpose of blood and that loosing too much was not a good thing.

Thor located what wounds he could reach and, tearing the material O'Neill's uniform was made of, bandaged what he could. But he knew it was not enough. Oh, for the want of the 'Bellisner's medical bay.

But that was gone, too. At the bottom of Earth's ocean.

O'Neill had been there. Thor had offered him death in return for saving Earth from Thor's own inability to protect it himself. O'Neill, and his team, had, in return, offered him life, a second chance.

The third chance had come while he was in the hands of Anubis.

Half paralyzed, clamped to the table, Thor had awakened, not to the grisly visage of some loathsome goa'uld, but to the quiet urging of a holographic O'Neill.

Unpredicted.

He had seen the worry in those dark eyes, so much smaller than his own, and a small spark of hope sprang up where there had only been despair.

They were like children, these humans from Earth, and Jack O'Neill the biggest, bravest child of them all. And he liked him.

His friend, Frere, had complained at first. The audacity of these humans to think they could charge out into the galaxy disregarding the consequences. But their strength and determination up against the odds had swayed even the stodginess of his old friend. A grudging respect between the two races had formed.

And then came the days when the great and almighty Asgard had had to ask for help from these primitive people or cease to exist at all.

Jack O'Neill had called the shots and the war had been won.

Now that same Jack O'Neill lay beside him, dying, and he could do nothing to help him.

"Ah...god."

"O'Neill?"

"Uh, Thor, is that you?"

*********

O'Neill woke to a world of pain.

He was lying on something cold and wet, his face half flattened against it.

Someone was touching his face.

His mind instinctively flinched away, but his body lacked the energy to follow. He could feel the soft stroke of a small hand brush his cheek. Unknown, get away, move!

He moved.

"Ah...god."

"O'Neill?"

His eyes flickered open. Well, one eye, the other refused to co-operate. A grey blur sat beside him.

"Uh, Thor, is that you?"

"It is I. Do not move, you are injured."

"Ah, kinda figured that out already." God, that hurts. Somewhere in his midsection a butcher was carving him into steaks. "Whe...where are we?"

"I do not know."

"What are you doing here?" Didn't the Asgard usually save the day?

"I have been captured. Like you. I do not know how I got here."

"Any idea of who's got us?"

There was an empty silence before Thor answered. "I had hoped you would be able to enlighten me on that count."

"Oh." Another shudder shook his body. A cough stirred deep in his throat. Unable to stop it, he spat blood on the floor. The resulting wave of pain teetered him on the brink of blacking out.

"O'Neill!" Was that a hint of panic in the voice of the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet?

"I'm fine...fine, just dandy." The simple lie was not helped by the whisper-loud, sandpaper rasp of his voice.

"O'Neill, tell me what to do to help you." The hand brushed against his cheek again.

'Beam me up' was the first thought that came to his mind, but he figured he would've done that already. "Sorry, Thor, I may be many things, but a doctor I'm not." Another rasping, pain-ridden cough took him into its clutches, and he clenched his body into a knot of misery.

The feeling of the small hand on the back of his neck became his anchor as black spots clouded his vision.

As his breathing settled down, and he was able to think again, he thought of Thor. Thor was the guy who came swooping in with his big ship to save the day. Thor was the alien version of Scotty who beamed you up without prior warning. Thor commanded technology that could skip across galaxies faster than he could sneeze. But Thor had none of his doohickies with him now. He was used to being in control - unlike a certain Colonel who flew by the seat of his pants more often than he cared to acknowledge - and he probably found his current situation a little alarming. O'Neill found that he himself was actually starting to get used to ending up in possibly fatal situations. A bit boring really, another near death experience.

O'Neill, now you know you are losing it.

"Thor." He hardly heard himself. He tried again. "Thor."

"O'Neill, you are seriously injured and I do not know how to help you."

"No sweat, Thor. Happens all the time. We got out of those situations. We'll get out of this one. Trust me." A little optimism never hurt.

"I fear you are dying."

He flicked his one eye in Thor's direction. Through the fuzziness he thought he could see the trepidation on the Asgard's face that was reflected in his voice. Clenching his teeth and holding his breath, O'Neill reached out his hand. "Thor, give me your hand." He felt the small pale palm, so soft to the touch, brush his fingers. He brought the fingers to his neck, to where his blood pulsed in his veins. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes."

"That, Thor buddy, is life. While that is there, while there is life, there is hope. And no rank, reeking, stinking prison is going to make me give up that hope." He paused, catching his breath. "And you will not give up either."

This time the cough wracked his body mercilessly, sending his head spinning. He lost his grip on consciousness and slipped into oblivion.

*********

Thor continued to hold his hand to O'Neill's throat. Feeling the thump of his pulse as his life flowed through his body, unconscious though it was.

He knew that O'Neill's comments had been directed wholly at him. Thor wasn't new to this sort of situation either, and could see where O'Neill's obstinacy had stood him well in the past. But it was something about O'Neill that stirred dismay in his soul at the thought of his loss.

There were no second chances for O'Neill. No cloned body waiting in the wings. No, if he died, he would be lost.

Thump, thump, under his fingers.

And a bright, young star would be snuffed out.

He didn't want that to happen.

O'Neill sighed, his jaw clenched and unclenched. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose, across his lip, to drip to the cold concrete.

You expected to see your children grow up.

Thump.

Thump.

An image of the child-like O'Neill, practically bouncing on his feet at the foot of the stargate, stepping out to explore new worlds.

Thump.

O'Neill the warrior, weapon drawn and firing, protecting himself and his people.

Thump.

Those sarcastic one-liners, usually aimed at the current goa'uld wannabe.

Thump.

The determination in his holographic eyes, to save Thor from his fate.

Thum...

Silence.

No movement.

Lost.

The world disappeared in a wave of white light.

**********

It's not easy being Green
Part 2 of the Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'Alien Reflections'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

He woke.

That surprised him. This time he thought he had really done it. Taken the big ship outta here. Bitten the dust.

But no, he was awake.

Infirmary? He listened for the familiar beeps and the click of heels on concrete. Nothing. Not Infirmary.

Crap.

He opened his eyes. No annoying pen light in his eye. No infirmary ceiling.

Completely unfamiliar ceiling for that matter.

Double crap.

He was lying down on a small, simple bed, his feet sticking off the end, and a thin sheet covering him. He couldn't see much in the dim lighting, but he didn't feel alone. He pushed himself up on to his elbows.

"Hello?"

A bright flash of white light momentarily blinded him.

"Greetings, O'Neill."

He shook his head trying to dispel the red after images dancing in front of his eyes. "You know, Thor, you could just knock."

"I apologise. I have been waiting for you to awaken." The dim, hidden lighting brightened revealing a large room, various shades of blue, in the typical Asgard design. The bed was the only piece of furniture present.

"Where are we?"

"You have been here before, O'Neill. This is the planet Othalla in the galaxy of Ida."

"Oh, that old place." He sat up fully in bed and the filmy sheet fell to his waist. He suddenly realized that the thin sheet was the only thing between him and fresh air.

He clutched the sheet to his chest. "Where are my clothes?"

"Your clothes were unfortunately damaged by myself during our imprisonment and we are in the process of synthesizing some replacements."

The sheet felt even thinner as he tucked it around himself.

"So, okay, Thor, what's the story? Why am I here and not on Earth?"

"Your medical condition required immediate attention. Your people would not have been able to help you."

"Oh, so am I fixed?" He peered down at himself, everything seemed to be working. His toes were sticking out the other end of the cover. He wriggled them, only realizing a second later that there was something strange in their colouring. "Thor, why are my feet green?"

"They are not green."

"They are green." He held up his hands. They were green, too. On closer inspection he realized that he was all green. "I'm green!"

"You had lost the majority of your circulatory fluids due to your injuries. We have the facility to create more, however, it was decided to substitute it with a healing fluid for awhile to ensure a complete recovery. As the fluid is green, your body will reflect that colouring."

"I can bleed green?" Thor just looked at him. "I'm a Vulcan!" Thor continued to stare at him, so he back- pedalled. "Um, okay, thanks. How long do I need this stuff?"

"Our medical staff will replace the fluid once it has been decided that you are fully healed." He paused. "And you are not green."

Jack wasn't going to argue.

"I have notified your General Hammond of your location. He requested your team accompany you, so Frere has gone to Earth to collect them."

"I'm sure he is happy to be chartered as an interstellar bus service."

"Hmm. He did comment, but agreed."

Jack glanced at Thor. Thought of a grumpy Asgard had him hiding a smile, but his train of thought was interrupted by another flash of light.

Speak of the devil...

Four mildly bewildered humans, and that afore mentioned grumpy Asgard, appeared at the foot of his bed. Frere moved to speak with Thor, as four pairs of human eyes focused on Jack.

All at once.

"Colonel!"

"Jack!"

"O'Neill!"

And all together now. "You're green!"

"You know, guys, if you did that in harmony you could probably make it on Broadway." He turned to Thor. "I told you I was green." Then, suddenly realizing there was a female presence in the room, Jack pulled the sheet even tighter around himself. "Umm, did you guys happen to bring any of my clothes with you?"

"Hello to you too, Jack." Daniel dug into his pack and produced the requested items. "So what's with the green?"

"Thought it would be a change from pink, you know, thought it would go better with the colour of my eyes." The mandatory annoyed looked emitted by Daniel, Carter, and even Janet - not Teal'c though, he was smiling, good ol'Teal'c - was interrupted by Thor.

"O'Neill has been very ill. Near death."

"Way to go with the drama, Thor buddy."

Janet stepped forward. "I am aware of that, Commander, that is why I insisted I come along." She moved toward O'Neill.

Start the countdown...3...2...1. Bang. Bright light in the eyeball. Way to go, Fraiser. "You know I think you like doing that just for the fun of it. It's a power thing, isn't it."

She ignored him. "How do you feel, Colonel?" He jumped as her cold stethoscope found his chest.

"Good. Hunky dory. Fine and dandy. Fit and healthy. Raring to go."

"Colonel, you're green." Fraiser was now sticking something in his ear.

"S...Ow! What are you doing in there? So what if I'm green? Thor says it's some fancy healing thingy and they'll put me back to normal when I'm all fixed."

"O'Neill is correct. The healing fluid is more efficient than your blood in providing nutrients and oxygen to his systems. The majority of his injuries are repaired, but the fluid provides the necessary support and immunity for his body as it returns to normal functioning."

Janet looked up from her traditional patient torture session. "Commander, I would like to confer with the doctors who have been overseeing the Colonel's recovery."

"Certainly, Doctor." He paused a moment, then a set of double doors opened to their left and two Asgard entered.

"Finally a door!"

Thor threw a tolerantly amused look in O'Neill's direction. "Doctor Fraiser, this is Tanor and Forel. They will be able to explain the state of O'Neill's health. In the meantime, I would like to suggest a short walk in the Centre's gardens where we can discuss the situation."

"Is the Colonel well enough to be out of bed?"

"I'm fine, Carter." He shoved his legs off the bed, grabbing at the sheet as it threatened to display his nudity in all its glory. "But I would like some privacy to get dressed." He glared appropriately at Daniel and Carter in turn.

"Uh, okay, fine, sir. We'll just be outside. Call us if you need us." His team moved towards the door.

That left Thor and Frere.

"Uh, guys, do you mind waiting outside a moment." Their looks were totally clueless. Obviously their knowledge of the human race was a little patchy in places. "Uh, Thor and, er, Frere, it is courtesy in our culture to allow people to dress and undress in privacy." A few more alien interactions and he would start sounding like Daniel.

The two Asgard quickly cottoned on and, with a polite bow, they followed the rest of SG-1 into the hallway. The doors closed behind them.

Finally alone for a moment, O'Neill dumped the clothes on the bed. His hands caught his eyes again. I'm Kermit the fricking Frog! Well, he trusted Thor, had trusted Thor, with his life, and he had come through for him every time. This was hopefully no different.

On to the first order of business. He fossicked through the pile of clothes. Oh, damn. Daniel, when are you going to remember which type of underwear I wear?

*********

Thor joined the group in the corridor.

From the moment Frere had returned with the humans, he had been complaining about them. The female kept asking questions to which any answer was beyond her comprehension. The Jaffa, at least, was silent, but the male human never shut up. Only the Doctor had managed to avoid directly irritating him, but the day was still young.

He let out a sigh. Some times Frere took it to extremes.

Fraiser was in one corner speaking with the two specialists. The other three were hovering just outside O'Neill's door. Thor knew the rest of SG-1, but found himself not as familiar with them as he was with O'Neill. It was no lacking on their part, but as the team required many different personalities and skills to function, each member was integrally different to the other. O'Neill was the facet he understood the most, and consequently was the most comfortable with.

As comfortable with an alien from a completely different race and culture, who was twice your height, as he could be.

He knew O'Neill valued his team more than his life, trusting them implicitly, and Thor trusted O'Neill. They had worked together to save both his life and his people.

They were SG-1.

Now they were standing in a corridor arguing.

Well, Samantha Carter and Daniel Jackson were arguing. Teal'c was quietly supervising.

"I think we should tell him."

"Daniel, General Hammond specifically said not to tell him unless it is absolutely necessary."

"He should know."

"And he will. Just not now, he is still recovering."

The stubborn look on Doctor Jackson's face urged Thor forward. "Major Carter, is there some information being withheld from O'Neill?"

Major Carter looked at him, indecision on her face. "Something has happened. General Hammond felt the news would upset the Colonel and with his recent injury it would be advisable to postpone telling him." The look on her face illustrated her conflicting feelings of loyalty.

"He's going to kill us when he finds out we have been holding out on him." Daniel scowled.

"We will have to deal with that if and when it happens." She swallowed as if she had eaten something distasteful.

They were interrupted by a banging on the door. "Oi! Thor, wanna let me outta here?"

Beside him Frere muttered in Asgard, "Can't even open the door."

Whipping his head around, Thor glared at Frere. "We were once as them, and wouldn't be, without them. They deserve our respect."

Frere looked suitably chastened.

Thor waved his hand over the door control and the doors parted. A slightly rumpled O'Neill emerged into the corridor. The hair on his head stuck out at all angles, and, now out in the brighter corridor lights, the green cast to his skin was all the more apparent. It was rather amusing to see him this colour. He had had a friend several years ago who had been severely injured. The Asgard version of the healing fluid was an interesting shade of orange. His friend had been the subject of much jest for several months as he recovered.

Thor, smothering a chuckle, indicated the direction and led the group out into the gardens.

**********

The gardens were spectacular.

Combined with arches of elegant architecture, the plants of the garden inhabited all three dimensions. Towering pillars supported decorations of twined tinsel-like vines, thirty metres into the air. Some of these pillars were interconnected at different levels by arching buttresses, adorned by a variety of different vines and epiphytes, connected by the garden path that wove its way amongst everything.

The plants came in all different shapes, sizes, and colours. A flowering purple bush hung in midair by the entrance, seeming to have no contact with any surface. It just sat there. A tiny creeper wove its way along the edge of the path, its leaves minature crystals like those you would find on a chandelier. A breeze wandered through the air, bringing with it a musical sigh, as it breathed amongst the plants.

It was beautiful.

But there was one thing missing. Daniel spoke up first. "There are no trees. Do you have trees on this planet, Thor?"

"No, Doctor Jackson, there are no trees native to this planet."

Three human heads turned to look at Jack.

"What? So there is another reason why I like these guys." He put on a not completely successful look of innocence.

Carter chuckled.

They followed the path into the depths of the gardens in silence. Each seemed unsure where to start. Eventually Jack ran out of patience.

"So, Thor, did you find out what happened?"

"Not entirely, no." He turned to the rest of SG-1. "Has any progress been made to ascertain how Colonel O'Neill was taken from Earth?"

Jack's head came up as Carter answered. "As far as we can tell, the Colonel was taken from his home, probably while he was asleep. He was not missed until he failed to report for duty the following morning. That was seven days ago."

"Seven days! I've been missing for a week?"

"Yes, sir. We were becoming quite worried by the time the Asgard contacted us." Her eyes darted away from his as the term 'quite worried' took on its true meaning of 'frantic'.

Thor spoke up. "O'Neill was only in the cell with me for a short time before rescue."

"Thor," interrupted Frere, "you also were missing for approximately the same period of time. We had some serious difficulty locating you."

Something suddenly occurred to O'Neill. "Hey, Thor buddy, have you been fully checked out? You okay?"

"I am well, O'Neill. I was not injured in any way. I was only incarcerated." He paused. "Unlike yourself. However, I do not remember how I got there. Apparently, I too, was taken from my home whilst sleeping. He looked to Frere."

"Commander, all efforts were made to locate you. However, it was many days before your signature registered on our sensors."

O'Neill spoke up. "Where did you find us?"

"On an empty moon on the edge of your galaxy, Colonel. Once we had located Commander Thor, we immediately made to recover him. Once we realized your presence and condition, all efforts were made to save you as well."

"And for that I thank you, Frere." O'Neill bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"We could do no less."

"That's the 'where', all we need now is the 'who' and 'why'." Daniel pushed his glasses further up his nose, before folding his arms across his chest in a familiar pose of concern.

Jack looked at Thor. "I presume you have investigated the site. Any clues as to the persons responsible?"

"None. We were held in an abandoned underground bunker. Our sensors were unable to locate any trace of any beings other than you or myself." The look on Thor's face showed he had suspicions.

"So who do you think may have been responsible?"

The look on Thor's face hardened. "Anubis."

He thought as much. "Hmm, good ol'Anudist. Haven't seen him for awhile." He turned to Carter, Daniel and Teal'c. "So what do you think, kids?"

Carter spoke up first. "It is possible, sir. He certainly has no liking for either of you. The question is what had he planned to do with you?"

"Well, he obviously tortured Jack." Jack looked at Daniel and suddenly realized that that was exactly what it looked like, but he had no memory of it. Had he said anything under duress? A sudden helpless panic stirred in him. Some of it must have risen to his face because Daniel began to look uncomfortable.

Carter stepped in. "Daniel, we have no proof that torture was the source of the Colonel's injuries. All precautions have been taken." She looked apologetically at her CO.

'Colonel O'Neill would never betray his people." Teal'c's certainty echoed off the ancient brickwork of the garden. Nearby a featherless bird was startled into flight.

O'Neill knew his team trusted him, and to a certain extent he trusted himself, but he couldn't remember most of those seven days, anything could have happened in that time. "Thanks, T, but until we know otherwise it is a distinct possibility that that is exactly what happened." Carter opened her mouth. "Ack! Carter, I know what you are going to say, but for the time being, I think we should prepare for the worst." He paused thinking. "I presume Hammond followed standard operating procedure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well then, as long as you three don't forget to take me home with you, there shouldn't be a problem." Something occurred to him. "Thor, was there a stargate on that moon?"

"No, we would have had to arrive by ship."

"Any trace of a ship in orbit of Earth, the moon, or your planet?"

"This planet is my home planet, O'Neill, and again nothing. I have had several complaints from my fleet commanders about the lack of information found." If an Asgard could frown, that was what Thor was doing.

Jack took a deep breath and suddenly found himself suppressing a cough. He cleared his throat. "Hmm. So where do we go from here?"

"O'Neill, I believe the specialists would prefer you to stay here a while longer until you have fully recovered. Also you need to have your circulatory fluid replaced before leaving." He looked at the group before him as if hesitating. "In the meantime, quarters have been prepared for you, however," and he turned to O'Neill, "I would be honoured if you all would join me at my home which is not far from here." He quickly added. "The security for my home has been recently upgraded due to this incident, I assure you, you will be safe and comfortable there."

If Jack didn't know better, he would have said that Thor was nervous. This could be interesting. He just hoped all Asgard architecture reflected the high ceilings he had seen on all occasions previously. He had this sudden vision of himself as Luke Skywalker in Yoda's hut.

He abruptly realized everyone was looking at him. He coughed. "Okay, Thor, sounds great." The tickle in his throat became persistent. He coughed again.

And again.

"Colonel, are you okay?" Carter moved forward.

"I'm f-" The cough that cut him off became a coughing fit that left him light headed. He put a hand to his head as Carter reached to steady him. "Uh, okay, perhaps I'm not a hundred percent." He felt dizzy. There was a flash of light and a hovering bed appeared. Abracadabra, Thor.

"Lie down, O'Neill, and we will return to the Centre."

Jack sat on the edge of the bed to steady himself, but refused to lie down. "I'm not legless. I just need a moment." He groaned when another flash deposited Fraiser and the two Asgard specialists. "Aww, thanks, Thor, now they will never let me outta here."

Thor just looked at him.

*********

It turned out that they did let him out, but only after the standard lecture in triplicate. Thou shalt not over exert oneself. Thou shalt do everything we doctors say. Thou shalt not make smart ass comments whilst being examined.

Well, at least he had learnt how to say the word 'ass' in Asgard.

They had given him his 'get out of our sight free' card and he had joined SG-1 at Thor's residence.

Earth had been allied with the Asgard for quite awhile, but he was forced to admit they knew little or nothing about them. Carter had reported back from that incident with the Asgard ship 'O'Neill' (note to self, must ask Thor about that). She had spoken of a vast city and a fleet of ships. She had also mentioned the food, and he was already thinking up excuses to out of that one.

Thor had beamed them all directly to his home. O'Neill didn't really know what to expect. What he did find was unexpectedly un-alien.

Thor lived in an apartment. Or what would be termed an apartment if it had been on Earth. It was quite large, possibly reflecting his status of Supreme Fleet Commander. He also had a garden. When Daniel commented on its similarity to the gardens at the Centre, Thor explained that it was part of the same garden. Apparently the gardens wove themselves throughout the inhabited portion of the planet, unbroken even by the oceans themselves.

Both Carter and Daniel started bouncing around like a pair of kids let loose in a candy shop. O'Neill was on the verge of ordering them to shut up, but was stayed by the look on Thor's face. Thor seemed amused by the two scientist's boundless energy, answering their questions extensively until even their eyes glazed over.

The apartment itself did have high ceilings to which O'Neill was immensely grateful. The basics followed traditional Asgard design, but were highlighted by various non-indigenous trinkets, presumably collected by its owner.

One wall contained a display of various weapons. O'Neill recognised a couple of definite goa'uld origin. He was even surprised to find one of their own Berrettas prominently on display. Briefly wondering where Thor might have gotten that, his eyes settled on Daniel. Yep, that's probably the source.

But one object looked far too familiar for his liking.

"Thor, why is my hockey stick stuck to your wall?"

The sudden look of guilt on Thor's face was memorable. He didn't answer.

"Do you realize how long I have been looking for that? It's a prime piece of sporting memorabilia. It's signed by three of the top players."

Thor still didn't answer, but the look on his face reminded Jack of a pet dog that knew it was in trouble.

Damn. Never could resist the puppy dog look.

"Ok," he sighed, "I suppose you could borrow it for a while." He held up his hand. "I want it back in one piece, though. No using it to bash some goa'uld over the head."

"Thank you. O'Neill."

Dinner was an interesting affair. Apparently Thor had taken note of Carter's distaste for Asgard cuisine. After some research and some synthesizing processes that O'Neill had no wish to investigate any further, the Asgard scientists had come up with what they thought constituted human food.

All O'Neill could say was, "Gee, thanks, Thor, looks great." as he was served something in a bowl that looked like cornflakes, was the colour of beetroot, and smelled like something between the milk that was left out overnight and burnt sausages.

O'Neill felt his stomach turn over. He checked out the rest of the diners. Both Carter and Daniel had expressions that would have won them a transfer to the diplomatic corps. Janet was eyeing hers as if it was a new lab specimen. But Teal'c...Teal'c was wolfing it down. He was literally shovelling beetroot cornflakes into his mouth. O'Neill felt his stomach turn over again.

He looked over at Thor, who was sitting behind a plate of children's multicoloured building blocks, waiting expectantly for their reactions. There was no way out. This was the part of 'do it for your country' they had never mentioned when he signed up.

He picked up the slender two-pronged fork and with the resignation of the doomed, poked it into the concoction and into his mouth. Fully expecting to gag, he was surprised when the morsel in his mouth melted like a bite from a Hershey bar.

In fact it tasted like a Hershey bar. Chocolate with a hint of caramel.

He took another bite. Hmm. Not bad, if you closed your eyes and held your breath. Perhaps chocolate was the food of the gods.

The rest of the evening, as the Othallan sun set over the garden, was spent discussing cultural differences. Daniel was in his element as they swapped examples of customs on different planets and compared them to their own. He was just starting a lecture featuring the pixie people on planet PXY-yadda-yadda when Jack O'Neill fell asleep on the couch.

********

It was Jack's snoring that alerted the rest of the group to the state of their CO. Jack had slipped backwards on the couch and now sat awkwardly, head flung back, half the brass section of the London Symphony Orchestra issuing from his throat.

After Thor had been reassured that this was a natural sleeping state, the now whispered discussion turned to whether they should attempt to manhandle him into bed or leave him where he was.

It suddenly occurred to Daniel that this had to be the first time he had ever seen Jack fall asleep in company. He supposed it had to do with recent events and his injuries, but Jack was always alert, even when on Earth, sitting in his lounge room drinking beer, he had that aura of watchfulness, an echo of experience. Daniel also didn't recall Jack ever snoring this loudly before. He glanced at Janet. She didn't look worried. Maybe he was being a bit sensitive regarding Jack - also to do with recent events.

Thor brought all discussion of manhandling to a halt by pulling out a small hand held device. He pointed it directly at Jack.

In the millisecond before he activated it, Daniel's reflexes had already reached for the gun he didn't have. But the beam that hit Jack did nothing but softly levitate him off the couch.

Thor led them to the sleeping room, gently leading a hovering Jack behind him.

Sam whispered in his ear. "We really need to get one of those. Makes handling the Colonel a whole lot easier." Daniel chuckled.

They were all going to sleep in the one room in deference to the Asgard norm and six beds had been arranged in a semi circle. They were a little small compared to what they were used to, but they would suffice.

Thor lowered Jack on to a bed and Daniel pulled his boots off and covered him with the sheet. Now he had stopped snoring he looked peaceful in sleep. His hair still stuck out at all angles and it made him look younger and untroubled. The green tinge to his skin was the only reminder that as recently as this morning this man had been on the verge of death.

They had been lucky to get him back.

The entire SGC had been frantically searching for clues as to his whereabouts. Daniel and Sam had gone to his house desperate for any hint to what might have happened. Call after call had been made to emergency services, hospitals, morgues, and a variety of alien governments, including the Asgard. It seemed he had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

And he had.

Janet had cornered SG-1 and threatened them with sedation if they wouldn't sleep voluntarily.

When it finally came, the call from the Asgard had been an immense relief, but none of them had relaxed until they had seen him with their own eyes.

And a funny sight it had been, seeing Jack half naked and flushing green with embarrassment.

Daniel smiled. Now that scene was worth relating several times at the next SGC Christmas party.

Making sure the sheet wasn't going to fall off during the night, Daniel left Jack's side and made ready for bed.

*********

It was dark and cold. Somewhere water dripped in a slow mournful rhythm.

Drip.

Drip.

He could see only shadows. He tried to move forward, but found himself restrained. A whisper of air movement raised the hair on his bare arms.

The dark was not empty.

Drip.

Drip.

A single footstep echoed on the hard floor. A shadow moved.

He tried to call out, but his throat was too dry for sound.

Drip.

Drip.

A voice asked him a question.

He could not answer.

Drip.

It asked again.

He could not answer.

There was a silver glint in the darkness. Pain in his side.

He could not scream.

Blood joined the water.

Drip. Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Still he could not answer.

The shadow moved closer. He could make out shapes, twisting impressions of dimension. They formed themselves into a face.

Daniel asked the question again.

"Have you met death?"

He could not answer.

Drip.

Drip. Drip.

The shadows moved, silver glinted, and, finally, he could scream.

*********

Of Dreams and Nightmares
Part 3 of the Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'It's not easy being Green'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

A heart wrenching scream.

The thud of a body hitting the floor.

Daniel was out of bed and reaching for his glasses before he was even fully awake. The lights came up suddenly, briefly blinding him, but he was on the floor beside a sprawled Jack by the time his vision cleared.

"Jack?"

The prone man groaned. He was face down and made to raise himself up on his elbows. Turning his head to look at Daniel he let out a dazed, "Wha...?"

The moment Jack's eyes met his, the daze turned to terror. Letting out a terrified yell, Jack backed himself into the corner between the wall and the bed.

"Don't touch me! Get away!"

He knotted his six foot two inch frame into the smallest shape he could and sat there mumbling, his eyes darting back and forth, but always returning to Daniel.

"Step back, give him space."

Daniel backed off, confused, looking at Sam in bewilderment. Janet moved forward. "Colonel O'Neill, can you hear me?"

The mumbling stopped and the eyes focused. A wary "Doc?"

"Colonel, are you okay?"

He looked at himself and at the people arrayed around him.

"Why am I on the floor?"

"You tell me."

His eyes flickered to Daniel. "Uh, bad dream." He pushed himself up against the wall and stood, leaning against it awkwardly. He radiated embarrassment. "I'm okay."

Somehow Daniel didn't believe him. "You sure, Jack?"

A defensive anger flashed in the Colonel's eyes. "I said, I'm fine, Daniel. Go back to bed, spectacle over." He punctuated the statement by climbing into his own bed, pulling the sheet up to his chin, and turning his back on all of them.

Daniel caught Sam's eyes and saw his own worry reflected in them. Janet indicated with a shake of her head to leave him.

Seeing Thor moving towards Jack, Daniel ushered him aside gently. "I wouldn't bother him now. It is probably best we leave him alone." Daniel did his best to whisper, praying that Jack couldn't hear him.

"O'Neill is upset." Concern etched itself into Thor's words.

"Jack is..." How could he explain this? "Uh, Jack is Jack. He needs to work things out on his own."

Thor bowed his head respectfully. "I will take your advice, Doctor Jackson." He glanced once more at Jack's back before returning to his bed.

Daniel followed suit, but throughout the rest of the night, he lay wake, the terrified look on Jack's face haunting him.

**********

As the others drifted away and back to bed, a series of panicked thoughts ran through O'Neill's mind.

What the hell was that?

He searched his memory for a place or event that resembled his dream.

Nothing. Nada. Zip.

He'd had dreams of torture before, flashbacks to his checkered past, but nothing like this.

Where had it come from?

His thoughts turned to his missing week, the only explanation. The black gulf that was his memory of that time taunted him. What had happened during those seven days?

And why did the sight of Daniel, his best friend, terrify him beyond belief?

**********

The next morning, breakfast was a quiet affair. Jack didn't feel like talking and no one knew what to say to him.

Thor had left before they awoke. Apparently the Asgard needed about half the amount of sleep that humans did and Thor was a busy man.

He had made some arrangements, however. They were to tour the Asgard shipyards. A diplomatic courtesy as Carter had expressed an interest. Several times.

Thor's aide, Fekel, escorted them, and this time they travelled by a more traditional mode of transport. Well, traditional to the Asgard perhaps.

They were met by a hovercar outside Thor's apartment and for the first time they got a bird's eye view of the capital city of the planet Othalla.

George Lucas, eat your heart out. Coruscant had nothing on this place.

Large monoliths rose in a sea of spires, the Othallan sun casting shadows that could swallow a city on Earth. The word 'cathedral' came to Jack's mind. A city of churches reaching for the sky.

And in amongst the buildings wove the Garden.

Jack had to hold his breath. This brought home the depth and age of the Asgard civilisation. Current Terran architecture couldn't hope to construct a building half the size of these monoliths. And certainly not with such grace.

The sun stroked the city like the paintbrush of an artist.

"Beautiful, isn't it, sir."

"I've never seen anything like it, Carter." His voice was almost a whisper.

She looked at him, obviously surprised that it affected him that much. "And we helped save it, sir."

The thought of replicators let loose in this city brought bile to the back of his throat. "No, Carter, we also saved ourselves. We wouldn't have lasted a second if this had been taken." Absorbed. Eaten. Replicated.

Destroyed.

Gone.

"It is good to know that what we risked our lives for was worth it."

She glanced up at him again. "Are you okay, Colonel?"

"I'm fine, Carter." He looked at his boots. "How about you?"

She backed off. "Fine, sir."

"Good, keep it that way." He turned back to the view, effectively ending the conversation.

**********

O'Neill remained pensive for the rest of the trip. They dropped Doctor Fraiser off at the Centre as she had expressed a stronger desire to discuss medicine than ships and weaponry.

SG-1 was then taken offshore above the city to the Othallan shipyards.

Five Asgard vessels were currently in dock.

One of them was the 'O'Neill'.

"I thought you blew it up?" He shot a look at Carter, daring her to deny it.

"We did, sir." Her eyes widened, looking innocent.

Fekel interrupted. "The original prototype was indeed destroyed, Colonel O'Neill. However, the plans were not, and as it was our most highly advanced design, it was rebuilt."

"So this is the 'O'Neill II'?"

"No, the prototype was never fully completed before it was destroyed. This vessel has taken that name in its stead. This is the 'O'Neill'."

The ship was graceful. There didn't seem to be another word for it. It echoed the standard Asgard ship design, but where there were normally angles, there were now curves, and the whole effect spoke of sleek and fast.

He noticed another difference between this ship and the others in dock. A red colour decorated a thin sweep of the hull, like a detail strip on a Mustang. None of the others had any such colouring.

"What's with the red?"

"A sign of honour." Fekel stood tall and looked O'Neill in the eye. "It declares that this ship was named in the honour of a great hero of the Asgard people." He paused. "It was named for you."

Jack didn't know what to say. Normally he would have thought up some wisecrack to deflect attention from himself. But today...today he felt bare and weary. "I'm no hero, Fekel. I just do what needs to be done." He gestured to his team. "These are the people who saved your world. These are the people who are SG-1. You should be thanking them."

He turned away, ignoring the indrawn breath of his teammates.

As soon as the car docked, he was out of there.

Carter caught up with him.

"Sir, what was that?!"

He turned to her. "What?"

"Fekel is upset, terrified he has offended you." Her worried face looked up at him. "I thought you liked the idea of a ship named after you."

"I do. It's just..." He flung a hand in the air. "I don't know." He coughed, clearing his throat. "Get Daniel to apologise for me will you."

"Sir..."

"Carter, not today." He almost pleaded. "Please."

"Yes, sir." She stood so straight she almost saluted, turned and walked back to the others.

Great. Now she's pissed at me as well.

He saw her approach Daniel and whisper in his ear. Fekel stood nearby, literally washing his hands with worry.

Oh, for crying out loud...

He stalked up to Fekel. "Fekel, I'm sorry. It is a great honour to have this," he raised hands towards the 'O'Neill' "this magnificent ship named after me, and I apologise for my abruptness earlier. I am just..." he brought a hand to his head "...not feeling the best today." Another cough punctuated his statement.

The small alien nodded. "I understand, Colonel O'Neill. Do you wish to return to the Centre?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Just a little tired." He smothered another cough. "Lead on. Tour away."

Jack didn't miss the multiple concerned looks directed at him by his team as they were conducted through the complex. He made sure he was at the back of the small group as much as possible to avoid their eyes.

**********

The shipyards were impressive, he had expected no less after what he had seen already. As the day worn on though, he found himself becoming more and more tired, probably due to his lack of sleep the night before, and he had begun to truly push himself by the time they were offered a tour of the 'O'Neill' itself.

He was introduced to the captain of the ship and, for the first time, he walked onto the bridge of an Asgard vessel.

Well, one not overrun with Replicators, that is.

Unlike the 'Bellisnor', the 'O'Neill's bridge only spanned two levels and now, at full operation, both were full of crewmembers going about their business. A huge viewscreen, spanning both levels, was at what Jack assumed was the forward postion.

In the centre of this organised chaos was a dais with several of the familiar control consoles and accompanying high backed chairs.

On the largest sat Thor.

"Thor buddy, how's it hanging?" O'Neill made his way to the platform.

Thor looked confused. "How is what hanging, O'Neill?"

"Oh, uh, never mind." He scratched the back of his head. "So, uh, whatcha been up to?"

"I had thought you might like to join us for a short foray into nearby space."

All thoughts of weariness left him. "You mean we get to take the 'O'Neill' out for a spin?"

Thor's brow wrinkled, but he said, "If I understand you correctly, then yes." He indicated they should join him on the dais. Four of the Asgard chairs disappeared in a flash of light to be replaced by more humanly proportioned furniture.

SG-1 and Fekel sat down, and, with a word from Thor, the ship disappeared.

O'Neill jumped. All around him was the Othallan shipyard, the four other vessels floating quietly in the blue sky. But all that he could see of the 'O'Neill' was the dais beneath his feet. What?

Carter, as usual. beat him to it. "Thor, you have a fully holographic display system built into the ship." Her mouth was hanging open.

"Yes, Major Carter, it is one of the improvements in the 'O'Neill' series of ships."

Jack glanced at Thor. "Series?"

"Yes, the 'Carter' is under construction now."

They all looked at Sam. O'Neill wished he had a camera, it was definitely a Kodak moment - Carter was speechless.

Thor issued an order and the ship began to move. From O'Neill's point of view it seemed as if their platform was coasting in space, but beyond the holographic curtain, the ship that bore his name left dock.

O'Neill had been into space many times before, but he had yet to take a pleasure cruise, or as in this case, a joyride. In fact just about every time he had previously been aboard any spacecraft his life, or someone else's, had been in jeopardy or ended up in it. It was a wonder that he didn't have a complex about it.

He sneaked a look at Thor. The Asgard was clearly waiting on their reactions. He looked almost eager to show off his new toy.

Maybe that was it. The Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet wanted to show them his world, and, perhaps, help both sides to get to know each other a little better.

And it obviously didn't hurt to have a little fun along the way.

He really did like Thor. He was his kind of guy.

*********

Thor watched his guests with both eagerness and a little trepidation. He knew he was showing off, but didn't care.

The Asgard Council had expressed various concerns about this venture, particularly regarding exposing the humans to too much Asgard technology. But Thor had argued that the people from Earth had given their talents and experience freely. Should he not give his?

The discussions had taken most of the morning, but eventually he had wrestled permission from his peers under the condition that no technological details were exchanged.

Thor was half hearted about this issue. He agreed with the theory of not giving younger races too many advances in technology too quickly, but there were times where the rule became too ridiculous to apply.

Besides, it wasn't like they weren't going to work it out sooner or later anyway. Certainly not with the keen eyes of Major Carter absorbing everything in sight. The Council was seriously prone to underestimating this race of people.

His eyes sought O'Neill, noting the tiredness in his eyes that hovered beneath the interest he was currently expressing. The human had not fully recovered yet, despite their best efforts. Thor was hoping this little exercise would bring some lightness into the heart of the weary man. A distraction from recent events.

He couldn't speak for O'Neill, but he could speak for himself. He had a small blank area of memory and it alarmed him. The Colonel, with almost seven days of lost thought, and those horrific injuries...

He gave the order. He would take them to Osaris.

**********

O'Neill watched as Othalla shrank to nothing behind them. They passed several different planets, one of which resembled Jupiter enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"Where are we going?"

"Osaris, a nebula, not far from here." Thor paused. "In fact, we are there."

And they were.

A spidery kaleidoscope of shining dust particles surrounded them. An eternal sunset of red, oranges, and gold rippling gently in an unseen breeze.

O'Neill stood up, turning around in amazement. "This is a nebula?" He had seen them through his telescope, but had never expected to be standing amongst one. He had really blown his beauty quota for the day.

Thor stood next to him. "This is Osaris. I used to come out here alone when I was young. It was my place to think and consider." He looked up at O'Neill. "This place has always been special to me. I like to think that it is because it came into being the same day I did. But, truthfully, it has been a refuge in times of worry and sadness and it has always made me feel a little better." He paused, then added. "I hope it will do the same for you."

For the second time that day, Jack didn't know what to say. He saw what Thor was trying to do, saw it for what it was, and appreciated it. What more could a man ask for? He stood in the midst of spectacular beauty, surrounded by his closest friends. He turned to look at Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c, each equally mesmerized by the sight around them. He felt his weariness lift, and, for one moment in time, he was flying.

He let out a breath, turning to Thor once again, and said, sincerely, "Thor, thank you."

From behind them came a moan, and the thud of a body hitting the floor.

**********

That that Lives.
Part 4 of the Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'Of Dreams and Nightmares'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

It had taken two days, but he was dead.

Two long days of intermittent consciousness and pain.

And the worst of it was that he wasn't alone.

**********

Jack O'Neill sat and stared out at the Garden.

It was dark and only the reflected lights of the metropolis lit the foliage. The Asgard didn't believe in garden lighting, and, for all he knew, didn't need it.

It didn't really matter, he wasn't looking at the plants.

He had tried sleeping to no avail. Each time he closed his eyes the dream would take over his mind. The dark, Daniel, and the screams.

His terrified yells had woken the others twice tonight already, and he was sick of their worried stares. When they got home, he could see himself being chained to MacKenzie for a month if he didn't get a handle on this. And soon.

It was Daniel that hurt the most. Seeing the confused look on the younger man's face each time Jack flinched at his proximity. This time it had been Sam who had been there when he woke screaming. Daniel now knew to stay away.

He coughed into the silent room.

Get a grip, Jack, this is not the time to start cracking up.

In truth, MacKenzie was the least of his worries, because, for the moment, they weren't going home anyway.

They were under quarantine.

Fekel had died that evening. Nothing the Asgard could do had been able to save him. Thor had been inconsolable.

How do you say goodbye to a soul you have known for a thousand years?

SG-1 was now quartered back at the Centre. They had been run through every test the Asgard could think of and it seemed they were unaffected.

They were quarantined anyway.

O'Neill understood and agreed. The Asgard were not only protecting themselves, but Earth as well. The Colonel knew what could happen if a disease was brought back through the stargate. He didn't need to imagine it, he could see it.

The Asgard were dropping like flies.

Fekel had been the first, but within hours of their return to Othalla, three other Asgard had collapsed. An hour later, five more. It got steadily worse from there.

The people themselves were in a state of shock. Technology had eradicated most health problems for the Asgard. Nothing like this had happened in centuries.

But they had rallied well. If O'Neill squinted in the dark, he could see the subtle sparkle of the quarantine force field in the distance. It encapsulated a large portion of the city - nothing came in and nothing got out. Except perhaps sunlight.

They were hunting for the cause. They were hunting for the source.

O'Neill and Thor had been prime targets as a possible source, particularly due to the mysterious circumstances of several days ago. However both Thor and himself checked out clean. Neither of them were showing any symptoms. No-one knew if humans would be susceptible, but then the Asgard scientists had yet to fully identify the problem.

The victims would suddenly collapse, no earlier indications of illness, no warning. The next two days of their lives would be spent fading in and out of lucidity, in a great deal of pain as the very tissues of their body broke down.

Then they died.

O'Neill didn't know the specifics, his eyes had glazed over as Fraiser and Carter slipped into scientist-speak, but he had seen the results.

Janet had brought pictures.

He didn't want to think of those Asgard, their small bodies covered in lesions, wracked with pain. He didn't want to listen to the keening in the hallways.

He needed to do something.

He needed to help.

But there was nothing he could do.

The first hint of dawn was forming in the west, its soft glow outlining the city's skyline. The spires were still magnificent even hidden in shadow, but they were no longer of innocent beauty.

They now resembled teeth.

Of the jaws of death.

**********

Janet Fraiser could feel the hairs on her head turning gray. Lack of sleep, worry, and an epidemic could do that to you. It was probably written down in a textbook somewhere.

She stumbled out of their sleeping room, suspecting she still had bed hair, but not caring. She had hardly slept. Ropa, her Asgard assistant, had finally demanded she go to bed the previous night after he had walked into her makeshift lab and found her sleeping face down in a petri dish. He had given her a rundown on her body's requirements that rivaled her at her worst. Though perhaps not when her victim was the Colonel - he required the big guns.

Speak of the devil.

He was sitting in a high-backed chair, turned toward the window, the morning sun glinting in the silver of his hair. He looked asleep. His head bent to one shoulder as his body slouched, hands in his lap, the soft rise of his chest as he took in breath his only movement. He should have looked peaceful, but instead he looked tired and worn.

She was worried about him. The Asgard specialists felt he was not recovering as fast as he should. The healing fluid seemed to be helping, but he still had a persistent cough and tended to tire easily. And he was avoiding her again.

Colonel O'Neill diagnosis 101.

Rule number one: Never believe him when he says he is fine. He could possibly be missing a limb.

Rule number two: Approach with caution. Has been known to bite...and gnaw...on occasion.

Rule number three: Restraints may be necessary. Malpractice insurance does not cover missing patients.

She smiled. Despite being one of the most difficult patients she had ever met, he was a friend. A good friend who spent far too much time in her infirmary.

From the injuries Tanor had described, Janet knew that if it wasn't for the Asgard, they would have lost him. And now he sat there, a little too green to look healthy, but alive. The Asgard had fixed him physically, now it was up to his friends to help him through the aftermath.

If he let them.

"So, Doc, you gonna stand there staring at me, or are you going to say something?"

She jumped. He hadn't moved, hadn't opened his eyes, but he was awake.

Damn his black ops training, anyway.

"Colonel, I didn't realise you were awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling fine, Doc." He opened his eyes, their darkness staring at her. "Where are the kids?"

She felt awkward under his gaze, like a child who had been caught stealing candy. She gestured briefly. "Sam's probably in the lab. Daniel and Teal'c went to get breakfast." Damnit, Fraiser pull yourself together. "Did you want something to eat?"

He looked away, his gaze wandering out the window. "No, I'm not hungry."

She steeled herself. "Colonel, you really should eat something, you are still recovering."

"I'm fine, the Asgard fixed me." He didn't look at her.

"Colonel, despite your repeated claim to health, I know for a fact that you are not eating, not sleeping, have had at least three coughing fits in the past two days, look exhausted, and have recurring nightmares. Is that your definition of health?" She challenged him with her eyes.

This time his eyes met hers and the pain in their depths spiked her heart. "Doctor, we are currently surrounded by people who are dying. I think the question of whether I have eaten breakfast or not is the least of our worries." He paused. "There are more important things."

Rule number four: Patient will put everyone else before himself. Use sedation if necessary.

"Colonel, you are not doing them or yourself any favours by denying your condition."

He sat up straight. "Janet, I'm fine. Now go back to having your breakfast, or fiddling in your lab, or whatever it was that you were doing, and leave me alone." He stalked out of the room.

She sighed, reminded of rule number five:

Wear protective clothing. It is likely you will be needed when the shit hits the fan.

**********

Ah, god, he'd done it again. Way to go, O'Neill, chew out the Doc why don't you.

She was only worried about him. He put a hand to his head. She was right. He was feeling lousy. But who wouldn't if they had to stand by helplessly and watch these people falling like leaves in an autumn wind?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

It had not taken long to impress on their hosts the need for privacy. The human cultural habit of knocking before entering was new to the Asgard, but after Thor managed to walk in on Carter in her underwear, Jack had pulled him aside for a little explanation.

They didn't have doorbells, so they knocked.

Jack opened the door and was surprised to find Frere standing in the corridor.

"Colonel O'Neill, we have made arrangements for you to contact your General Hammond in person. He has become very adamant that he speak with you."

O'Neill had been wondering how long it would take before the General cracked. The Asgard had been keeping Hammond informed on SG-1's activities, but since the epidemic had arisen, communications had become prioritized toward the emergency. He knew that sooner or later the General would want to speak to one of his people.

Time to interrupt breakfast.

**********

George Hammond was having one of those days. Nothing went quite right, nothing got finished, and he felt he was getting nowhere.

In the absence of his second-in-command, the paperwork was piling up. Granted, even when his second-in-command was hale, healthy, and present it still piled up, but at least it wasn't on his desk.

He had a crick in his neck, a cramp in his hand, and he had lost contact with his backside about an hour ago. Ah, the hell with it. It could all wait ten minutes while he got a coffee and walked some circulation back into his feet.

That was how he found himself in the control room speaking with Sergeant Davis when Jack came up behind him and scared what little hair he had left off his head.

"Howdy, General."

Coffee and computers don't mix. There were even a few sparks as the dialing computer's keyboard died.

"Damn it, Jack." Hammond flicked the hot coffee off his fingers, fumbling with his cup as Davis handed him a paper towel. He turned around expecting to see the holographic projection of the Colonel, but nearly spilt the coffee again when he caught sight of him.

"My god, Jack, are you okay?"

His second-in-command suddenly looked defensive. "I'm fine, sir." But then his eyes widened with realisation. "Oh, you mean the green?" He grinned. "Don't worry, General. Just the latest Asgard fashion craze. All the rage."

Hammond frowned. Jack capitulated.

"No worries, sir. The Asgard fixed me up. They just thought this green stuff would help."

"Well, I'm glad to see you again, Jack. Yet again we thought we had lost you."

"Thor and his friends saved the day again, sir." Jack swallowed, and all the joviality left his face.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

"We have a situation here." His eyes looked hollow.

"Is everyone okay?" Hammond felt like he was pulling teeth.

"Doc and SG-1 are fine, sir. It's the Asgard themselves who are in trouble. We have an epidemic on our hands." He studied his feet. "They're dying, sir."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" The words were out of his mouth without thought.

"I'm afraid not." Jack cleared his throat. "Doc's set up a makeshift lab and has scrounged what equipment she can. I think she is hoping our approach might be useful. Carter's helping her." He coughed. "We are all under quarantine, so we won't be coming home soon."

Jack was distracted by someone Hammond could not see. "I was getting to it, Daniel, keep your pants on." He turned back to face the General. "Daniel would like someone to feed his fish." O'Neill rolled his eyes.

Hammond almost smiled. "Tell him, I will, Jack." He sobered as the Colonel ran his hands through his hair and across his face. He looked tired, and it was understandable, but there seemed to be something more. "Jack, are you sure you're okay?"

O'Neill looked up at the General. "Huh?"

Now something was seriously wrong. Alarm bells started ringing.

"Jack?"

The Colonel looked at him and his eyes glazed over. "General?"

As if its strings had been cut, the hologram of Colonel Jack O'Neill collapsed to the floor and disappeared.

**********

Note on title: from the following piece of poetry.

'That that lives shall never die.
Though death is apparent, however,
They will dwell in thought and memory
In other's hearts forever.'
Gumnut Logic, 1986

**********

Jack the Ripper
Part 5 of 'The Asgard Sequence'
Sequel to 'That that Lives'.
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

There was humming, the sound of bees swarming.

There were voices, muffled in the dark.

But most of all there was quiet.

He lay there for a long time, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. Calm.

But all things come to an end and soon a nagging presence intruded in on his sanctuary. A hint of wrongness in the right.

And from the darkness came a voice.

"Have you met death?"

He flung his eyes open and gasped in a breath, his lungs heaving.

Light, he was surrounded by light. He twisted his head around, eyes tracking for familiarity as they focused. Where the hell was he? Sarcophagus? He tried to raise his arms but they were pinned to his sides. He could not move anything but his head.

Restrained. Captured?

He yelled into the light.

"Colonel?" Whispered mutterings. "Oh, god, get him out of there. Now."

**********

The moment Janet heard him yell, she knew she had made a mistake. If there was one thing the Colonel did not handle very well, it was being restrained. The man's history and his natural need to be in control tended to produce a resulting panic should his movement be restricted for any extended length of time. Combine that with an enclosed space...

"Colonel?" She moved to check the monitor. He was thrashing his head about. "Oh, god, get him out of there. Now."

Ropa fiddled with the control board and the scanning equipment shut down. The panels covering the Colonel fanned out, retracted, and the restraining field snapped off.

The moment he could move, the Colonel flung himself off the table, stumbled, almost fell, catching himself at the last moment. Janet watched as his eyes focused, scanning the room. There was a fearful predatory sense emanating from him, and, for all his obvious weakness, she knew he was fully capable of defending himself.

The Asgard specialists in the viewing room with her stared, shocked that he would be able to stay on his feet in his condition.

"Ropa, call Teal'c. Everybody else, stay here." She made her way into the scanning room. "Colonel?"

His head spun in her direction. "Doc?" The hands clinging to the bed were white knuckled, taking his weight as he struggled to stay upright.

"Yes, Sir. You are in the Othallan Medical Centre. Do you remember what happened?" She edged closer.

His eyes darted in thought, before fixing on her again. "The Asgard got sick." Anxiety flickered across his face. "They were dying." He brought a hand to his head, and he swayed, only to grab the table again for support. He looked at her desperately. "Thor? Where is Thor?"

"Thor's fine, sir. He was here earlier." She gestured to the bed. "Please sit down." Before you fall down, she thought to herself.

He ignored her. "The General was here."

"You were speaking to General Hammond when you fell ill."

"I'm sick?"

She felt the hitch at the back of her throat. If only it was only that. She blinked rapidly. She hadn't come to terms with it herself. She wasn't ready to tell him yet, and he wasn't ready to hear it.

As if he ever would be.

"Yes, sir, you're sick. Please sit down." He was trembling now.

His concentration was interrupted by Teal'c entering the room. From some inner reservoir Jack managed a smile. "Hey, T."

Teal'c came up beside her and bowed his head. "O'Neill."

Janet itched to go to the Colonel and now Teal'c was here to help her, she did not hesitate.

She was a fraction of a second too late.

O'Neill's legs folded and he hit his head on the table on the way down. They were just in time to prevent it from hitting the floor.

"What happened, Doctor Fraiser?" Teal'c gently supported the unconscious man's shoulders.

"I screwed up." She mentally berated herself. Damnit, she should have sedated him. "He woke while we were in the middle of a deep scan." She ran her hand across the side of O'Neill's head, searching for any wound. The isolation field surrounding him tingled on her fingertips, but she only found a lump. "We had him in a restraining field and he panicked when he woke." Double checking him for any further injury, she found none, and gestured for Teal'c to lift him on to the table.

"Have you made any progress?" Teal'c turned to her, his dark eyes calm, but concerned.

She glanced at the Colonel. Now no longer dressed in his familiar uniform, but in the plain medical whites supplied by the Asgard, he looked vulnerable and alone. "Teal'c we have been able to stabilise him, but I don't know for how long." She sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair. "Damnit, why is it always him?"

She felt Teal'c's warm hand on her shoulder. "Colonel O'Neill has shown resilience in the past. He will not give up without a fight."

"I know Teal'c. I just wish he didn't have to fight at all."

**********

The next time he woke, his mind was clearer. He found himself back in the same room he had originally found himself upon awakening on Othalla. The room was just as dim as before, but this time there was no question that he wasn't alone.

Daniel's snores were obviously what had awoken him.

His friend sat on a chair beside the bed, slouched sideways, head flung back, singing to the ceiling. He was making enough noise to wake the dead.

He brought a hand to his face and was surprised when it buzzed and tingled on contact. What?

Holding his hands up, he noticed that they were still green - if anything, greener - but there was also something else different about them. They sparkled. With each movement, shiny, glittering points of light skipped across his skin.

What the hell is that?

"How are you feeling, O'Neill?"

He jumped, only then noticing Teal'c sitting on the floor at the end of the bed in the dark.

"Teal'c? Whatcha doin' on the floor?"

"I am meditating. We have been waiting for you to awaken."

"Well, I see it's my turn to wait." He grinned, shoving a thumb in Daniel's direction.

"Daniel Jackson has had little sleep since your collapse. His current state was inevitable." Teal'c's wiry smile had Jack grinning even more. Teal'c repeated his question. "How are you feeling?"

He turned his attention inward. "A little tired and achy." He felt a crackle and pop as he ran his hand through his hair. "What happened?"

"Do you not remember?"

"Bits and pieces. I was talking to Hammond. Talking to Doc." He frowned. "You were there. The details are fuzzy."

"While you were communicating with General Hammond you collapsed. Daniel Jackson raised the alarm. Doctor Fraiser has been attempting to locate the source of the problem."

"Well, I feel pretty good now. Am I fixed?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Colonel." Her voice was almost a whisper, as Janet, accompanied by Carter, walked into the room. As the lights increased in brightness, he realised that her eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying. Carter didn't look much better.

Teal'c stood up and roused Daniel, who sat up straightening his glasses. "Uh, Jack, you're awake."

"Wakey wakey, Daniel."

The room fell silent.

Oh, damn, this couldn't be good.

"Hi, Doc. Hey, Carter. How's it going?" Forced cheerfulness.

Janet stared at him like she had just lost a member of her family. Sam avoided his gaze altogether.

Okay, approach the subject head on. "What's wrong?"

Janet took in a breath. "Colonel, we have found a fault in your DNA. A seemingly random chain of nucleotides has been added to one of your chromosomes."

When she didn't continue, O'Neill said, "And that means what?"

Carter spoke up. "As far as we can determine these nucleotides form a template for the creation of a pathogen."

Pathogen. He felt his heart sink to his feet. Oh, god, no.

"Carter, are you trying to tell me I'm the source of the disease that is killing these people?" Please say no, please say no.

"Colonel, your body has been genetically altered to generate a type of virus. This virus is specific to Asgard biology. You do not carry the disease, sir, your body is creating it."

The words spun in his head. Oh, god, no. His voice was rough, and he didn't look at them as he asked, "How is the disease transmitted?"

Janet cleared her throat. "It's airborne." Then quickly continued. "But now we have located the cause, the Asgard are positive they are close to a cure. A vaccine is in production now. With the genetic code and molecular footprint now known, the Asgard can program their force fields to destroy it. Nobody else will be exposed."

He could feel his heart breaking, cracks forming right down the centre. Eyes closed, he whispered, "How many?"

They didn't answer. He looked up at the two scientists. The sorrow on their faces carved chunks out of his soul. "How many?!" He demanded.

Janet's voice was barely a whisper. "Several thousand. They are still finalizing the statistics." She looked at her feet.

Several thousand more souls who had their cause of death listed as Jack O'Neill. His mind was frozen in shock. Several thousand. All because they had tried to save his life. How much did the universe think he was worth? How many more deaths could his life take?

"Oh, god." It came out as a whimper.

"Jack, it's not your fault." Daniel placed a hand on his arm. "This was done to you, not by you."

He didn't answer. It was all too much. His mind spun until it locked on to one thought.

"Cassie." He looked up at all of them. "I'm Cassie."

It was Carter who answered him. "That's pretty much our conclusion, sir. You were captured, genetically altered, and placed in a situation where Thor would need to return you here, or another Asgard world, to save your life."

The pain in their eyes spoke of things yet unsaid.

"There's more, isn't there."

Janet's turn again. "Sir, the added gene has compromised your body's ability to repair itself on the cellular level. Cells are not undergoing successful mitosis, and those that die, or are damaged, are not being replaced." She paused, reinforcing her composure. "The Asgard specialists have managed to slow the degradation for the moment, and you are stabilised, but unless we can reverse the genetic tampering..."

"I'll die." He finished for her.

Her voice was quiet, almost defeated. "Yes, sir."

The silence in the room was deafening. He could feel his friends' grief emanating from them in waves. It was too much for him to handle at once. He needed to get away.

They must have seen it in his eyes, because Daniel suddenly increased the pressure on his arm. "Jack?"

He quietly answered. "I'd like to be alone for awhile."

Daniel studied his feet for a moment. "Okay. We'll be just outside." He stood up and with Sam and Janet walked towards the door.

Teal'c followed, but paused at the end of the bed. "We will find out who did this, O'Neill. Their lives will be short and painful."

Jack did not answer. Teal'c bowed his head before leaving.

He had no doubt Teal'c would stand beside him in vengeance. But would it be enough to satisfy the souls of several thousand people? Could his soul repent for that many lives?

**********

Thor was beginning to think O'Neill was right. He should beam all politicians into some black hole somewhere.

He had spent half the day trying to convince the Council that this disease was not an act of aggression against the Asgard by the people of Earth. Most of the Council understood clearly that a third party, most likely Anubis, was responsible, but one particularly dense councillor was not to be swayed.

He swore the man had only gotten on to the Council through some serious backhanded maneuvering. He certainly did not have the brainpower to get there by himself.

The idiot had managed to keep the Council riled up for hours. May the seven stars of Karnass give him starna warts.

O'Neill would be awake by now and he needed to give the man his assurance that he was not blamed by himself or the Asgard people.

He flicked a control and beamed himself into the corridor outside O'Neill's room.

The corridor was full of SG-1.

They all looked pale, even by Asgard standards. Even Teal'c looked a little grey. The noise coming from the room behind them the obvious cause. He could hear the sound of breaking furniture, punctuated by curses. He wondered why none of them had gone in to check on O'Neill.

"Major Carter, what is Colonel O'Neill doing?"

There was an extra loud thud as something hit the other side of the door. The four humans flinched.

"Uh, Thor, he is a little upset right now. He asked us to leave him alone for awhile."

"You have told him." The devastation on their faces was a clear answer. "I must reassure him that we, as a people, do not hold him accountable."

"I'm not sure you should go in there right now." The cursing suddenly stopped, and there was silence.

"I assure you that I am fully capable of defending myself if need be. However, I do not think O'Neill would seek to harm me."

"He wouldn't, Thor." This from Daniel Jackson. "I think he considers you a friend as much as any of us."

Thor bowed his head at the archeologist. "And I him." He gestured down the hallway. "Please, take your leave for a moment. I would like to speak to O'Neill alone."

They seemed reluctant, and cast thoughtful eyes towards the door, but, with a word from Major Carter, they headed off down the corridor towards the lab.

Thor straightened his shoulders, and walked through the door.

He almost tripped on a broken piece of chair. The chair had been the only piece of furniture in the room apart from the bed, and it looked as if it had born the brunt of the human's anger. It lay in pieces all over the floor.

Thor did not see O'Neill at first, his form hidden by the bed, but he soon found the human on the floor at the far side of the room, knees drawn up, his head in his hands. He did not look up as Thor approached.

"O'Neill."

His head shot up, alarm on his face. "Thor, you shouldn't be here."

He hurried to ease his concern. "I do not have the sickness, O'Neill. It seems that I am immune."

The anguish in his small dark eyes did not abate. "I'm so sorry." The whispered words tumbled out.

"You could not have known. We do not hold you responsible."

O'Neill focused into the distance, the pain lining his face. "All those people."

Thor looked at him, before reaching down and taking his hand. He moved it to his own throat. "You once told me, Jack, that while there is life, there is hope. Feel the life in my body. I live. And so do millions of other Asgard - all because of you." He paused, watching O'Neill's eyes meet his. "What has happened is a tragedy, and we mourn. But those we have lost will be remembered with honour. Do not blame yourself for what could not be avoided."

Thor felt O'Neill's warm fingers on the skin of his throat, the isolation field prickling, his own pulse reflected in the human's eyes. A spark ignited.

O'Neill's voice was rough. "I want to find who was responsible. Will you help me?"

"I have already begun making arrangements. The Asgard do not take an attack on their people lightly." Their eyes met. "We will find them, O'Neill. I promise."

Some of the tension left the human's body. Taking his hand back, O'Neill stood, and, looking down at Thor, said, "Then I better get ready." He turned towards the door.

A young Asgard stood in the doorway, a weapon pointed at O'Neill.

"Colonel O'Neill," His voice was startling in the sudden silence, assuring himself of their attention. "For your crimes against the Asgard people."

The weapon fired.

**********

Chess and Checkers
Part 6 of The Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'Jack the Ripper'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

It was his reflexes that saved him.

Well, almost.

As he flung himself and Thor to the floor, the weapon discharge clipped him across his back. There was a sizzle, pop, and crack as his isolation field overloaded and burnt out. It wasn't designed to be shot at.

They should have thought about that when they put it on the perpetual target, he thought sarcastically as he hit the floor.

Immediately alarms started blaring and a force field snapped into place across the doorway, trapping their assailant inside with them.

Thor untangled himself from O'Neill and they quickly scuttled behind the bed for cover.

They could hear the young Asgard walking confidently around the room.

"You can not escape, O'Neill. I will have my vengeance."

Oh, please, he thought, think of something original, for god's sake.

He glanced at Thor. The small alien was flushing a faint shade of purple, he could almost see the steam coming out of the sides of his head. Thor was furious.

"You are a fool, youngling."

"Oh, the great Commander Thor speaks does he? What does he say about the results of his bringing this vermin to our home?"

"We have suffered, youngling, but O'Neill has suffered also. It was a crime against both our people."

"I don't see any humans writhing in pain. I see none dead in the streets." O'Neill could hear footsteps on the other side of the bed. "How can he know of our suffering?"

Thor moved to the edge of their cover, his body tensed for movement.

"You see little at all, youngling." Thor pounced. The weapon went flying, and before O'Neill could blink, Thor had the assailant immobilized, face down on the floor. He whispered in the young Asgard's ear. "You know even less."

"He should die." The captive almost wailed.

Thor was unsympathetic. "He will not if I can prevent it, but unfortunately, you will. All your own foolish fault." He indicated O'Neill. "You have exposed yourself to the disease by disabling O'Neill's isolation field. You will know our suffering first hand."

"No!" A frantic look at O'Neill, fear in his eyes. O'Neill looked away, but the Asgard's face seared itself into his memory.

It wasn't until O'Neill tried to stand up that he realised he was injured.

Owwww!

He reached around to touch his back. The hand came back smeared with green fluid. Well, that's a little unusual.

He sat back heavily, leaning his shoulder against the bed.

"Uh, Thor."

Thor glanced up at him. Jack held up his hand.

The prisoner gave a yelp as Thor's hold suddenly got tighter.

"Help is on the way, O'Neill."

He certainly hoped so. Damn it hurt.

There was a clattering of footsteps in the corridor and Janet, SG-1 and a group of Asgard security stood on the other side of the force field. The look on Janet's face was enough to bend metal.

Oh, man, he was so gonna get it.

**********

Sam Carter was exhausted.

She sat in the corner of the cabin they had been assigned aboard the 'O'Neill', nursing a cup of the coffee substitute she had been forced to concoct before the caffeine-free Daniel went into meltdown.

It didn't look like coffee, it didn't taste like coffee, but it had the correct caffeine levels to fuel her favourite archeologist.

Across the room Colonel O'Neill was wriggling in his seat, trying to get comfortable. He still looked drawn and tired. She knew that he was in some pain, but he refused to acknowledge any, except perhaps when he thought no-one was looking.

Her heart had skipped a beat when he had held up his green smeared hand on the other side of that force field. Once they had been able to isolate both the Colonel and his assailant, preventing contamination of the rest of the building, she had followed Janet into the room, hurrying over to her CO. He had been conscious and cursing in several different languages, none of which she had known he knew. A quick glance at Daniel had proved that whatever he was saying, it wasn't pretty.

Fortunately he was not hurt badly, but he did have a nasty burn across the left side of his back. Also, a small burn on his chest where the isolation field generator had been attached to his skin.

Unfortunately, in his current condition, the burns were not going to heal.

Several hours of microsurgery later, the Asgard specialists had patched him up somewhat. He was no longer bleeding and the wounds had been sealed, but it was still a worry for Janet. And despite the medication the Doctor had forced on the Colonel, he was still in some pain.

Her thought was illustrated before her eyes as the Colonel flinched in his seat.

While the Colonel had been quiet and compliant coming out of that room - which was a worry in itself - Thor on the other hand, had been like a tornado blowing through a farmhouse.

The Asgard had been livid.

She had seen a side of the normally polite and calm alien that had his fellow Asgard flinching in his mere presence. This was Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. You did not want to mess with this guy.

Frantic investigation had proved that the assailant had worked alone. He had recently lost three members of his family group and it had been grief that drove him to do it. She understood fully, but had great trouble feeling sympathy as she watched her CO flinch yet again.

After everything he had been through, they could have lost him so easily.

They still might.

She stared down into her coffee-wannabe. She still couldn't face it. The thought of losing Jack O'Neill touched her on many levels. As her CO, as her friend, and...maybe more. It seemed hopeless. The Asgard had done all they could. The man was green, for god's sake. The only thin thread of hope was finding the persons responsible, praying they would be able to reverse it.

And if they couldn't, they were going to pay.

She had seen it in Teal'c's eyes. She had seen it in Janet's eyes. She had even seen it in Daniel's eyes. Too much had been done to this man. SG-1 was family, you mess with one, you mess with them all.

Thor had called a strategy meeting. Himself, Frere, three Asgard captains, Janet, and SG-1. The Colonel had just recently come out of surgery at that point, and Janet had him tied to some sort of hover chair.

The chain of complaints had been memorable until Daniel had threatened to push him off a balcony to see how high up the hover pads worked. Jack had shut up rather abruptly at that point.

She smiled to herself. The man was incorrigible. Several hours later, Daniel's favourite notebook had gone missing.

It had reappeared the following morning complete with stick figure aliens and odd looking UFOs scribbled over several pages. 'Beam me up, Danny!' was scrawled at the bottom of the masterpiece. Daniel had looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jack was no artist.

But Daniel had kept the pictures.

At the meeting they had gone over all the data that had been recovered by Frere in relation to both Thor's and O'Neill's original capture. Further information had been discovered by the medical staff. After it had been discovered that O'Neill was the source, the fact that Thor had not contracted the disease, yet had been exposed to O'Neill the longest, sparked their suspicions. Those suspicions were confirmed when a tiny, previously undetectable antibody was found in the Commander's blood. An artificial immunity to provide transport for O'Neill's time bomb to the Asgard world.

Unfortunately, the antibody was designed as a short term preventative. Slowly but surely Thor's immunity would wane. Fortunately, the Asgard had by this time a permanent vaccine under production. All the crew of the three ships assigned to this task were immunized.

It had been decided to send the small fleet of three ships back to the moon where the Colonel and Thor had been imprisoned in the hope of locating further information on their captors. Sam had offered her scientific expertise, thinking perhaps a different approach may shine some new light on the situation. She and Daniel had been swapping ideas ever since.

Daniel was uniquely qualified for this venture, a detective of the past, and had some perspectives and approaches that she had not considered. Teal'c had even thrown in some ideas. The Colonel had remained strangely quiet.

She glanced at him again. He had a piece of filmy printout and was folding it with some concentration. As she watched it became a paper plane. Not a simple child's paper plane, no, this was a plane of origamic proportions. The thing had tail planes, for goodness sake. Funny, she had never thought him to be one for origami.

Then he launched it.

It glided effortlessly up into the air, executed two perfect Immelmann rolls before returning precisely to his hand.

He caught her stare, and a devilish grin spread across his face.

On second thoughts, that is so Jack O'Neill. The thought of him in some flight school classroom with an armoury of notepaper. She quickly took a mouthful of coffee-wannabe to hide her smile.

A paper plane hit her squarely on the top of her head.

Her coffee-wannabe ended up on her shirt.

"Hey, Carter, whatcha doin'?"

She coughed, she spluttered, but one look at him, innocent look firmly in place, she couldn't even generate annoyance.

"Looking for a clean shirt, sir."

He grinned. "Oops, sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"You're starting to sound like Daniel." He picked up another piece of paper. She must remember to ask Thor where to get some of that, so she could build her own origami air force. She might need it for defense.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Now you're sounding like Janet." He grumbled.

"You know me, sir, multitalented."

"Hmph."

"So..."

"So, what?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Argh. I've got a map of Colorado burnt into my back, how do you think I feel?"

"Sorry, sir."

"No, Carter, it's fine. I'm just bored. I hate having nothing to do." He was pouting.

"Thor said we would be there soon." They were jumping galaxies after all.

She suddenly had a picture in her mind of a young Jack O'Neill, in the back of his parent's car, whining 'Are we there yet?' all the way to some long distant destination. Bart Simpson, the original. She smirked.

"Something funny, Carter?" He had a new plane fully armed and ready. A cocked eyebrow indicating he was primed to launch.

"Uh, no, sir. Nice plane."

He looked at the piece of paperwork in his hand. "Haven't made one of these for years. Used to be great fun in flight school."

She knew it.

They were interrupted by Ropa's voice over the intercom. "Major Carter, Doctor Fraiser would like to see you in her laboratory."

She spoke to the ceiling. "Thanks, Ropa. Please tell her I will be there shortly." She looked back at the Colonel. "I have to go, will you be all right here by yourself?"

"Carter, I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere. Thor has so much security pinned on me, I doubt Anubis himself could get through." He rolled his eyes.

"Let's hope so, sir." Then as the door opened, she saw him eye the Asgard security forces outside the door and a crafty smile lit his face. He picked up another piece of paper.

Oh, dear.

As she left she shot him one more glance and said, "Behave yourself, sir."

He just grinned.

As she walked off she could not help laughing to herself. She almost felt sorry for the security team.

Halfway down the next corridor, she was shot from behind.

*********

Yep, Asgard security types were just like human security types. You could pinch them on the nose, stick flowers in their hair - or in the case of the Asgard, in their ears - and stamp on their toes, and they still would not react to your presence.

His entire air force bombing brigade lay at their feet and they had not even looked at him.

Distraction, he needed distraction.

He didn't have anything to do. Even if it was only a short trip between galaxies, he didn't want the time to think.

About things.

That and the continual ache that his body had become.

Paper planes...maybe he should graduate to frisbees.

He eyed the plastic crockery left over from lunch. Hmm.

Standing up carefully, he was making his way to the table when the ship suddenly lurched, the floor disappearing beneath his feet.

He stumbled.

And all the lights went out.

**********

Heart of Flame
Part 7 of the Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'Chess and Checkers'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

They came out of hyper-speed into a wall of vaporised rock and flame.

In that microsecond between hyperspace and normal space when any Asgard ship is briefly vulnerable, it struck.

Chunks of jagged rock impacted the immaculate hull of the 'O'Neill', carving canyons of crumpled alloy. One fragment completely severed an arched wingtip, deflecting the helpless ship into a spin. It tumbled over and over, pitted by rubble and seared by heat, until it came to rest, drifting slowly, battered and broken.

**********

First there came silence.

Then came the moans of injured people, punctuated by the creaks and groans of tortured metal. Erratically, the occasional boom would shudder through the ship as it impacted with a stray projectile. Sparks of disrupted power conduits and the hiss of escaping atmosphere echoed down the hallways.

On the bridge, Thor staggered up from where he had been thrown, a streak of dull violet smeared across the side of his face, the captain lying dead at his feet.

The viewscreen spat and frosted interference, but remained determined to perform its function, and, through the static, Thor could see the gas giant that had been their destination.

But the moon was gone.

**********

Once the shaking of the ship had reduced itself to the occasional shudder, Jack O'Neill unwound himself from the tight knot he had curled himself into. Hanging on for dear life, cramped under the table, which, thank god, was bolted to the floor, had saved him, as his world had suddenly redefined its definition of up and down.

Jack stretched out his limbs, the simple pains of bumps and bruises compounding his already aching body. The iso-field crackled against his skin, annoying him with its existence, a continual reminder of things he would rather forget. Gritting his teeth he sat up and surveyed his surroundings.

Broken bits of loose furniture could be seen in the reflections of the faint emergency lighting. The lights flickered like an erratic heartbeat in time to the shudders of the bulkheads.

In the darkness he could see little, but fumbling around he found his field pack, not too far from where he left it, wedged under a broken chair. Digging in, he pulled out a flashlight.

Time to put some light on the subject.

The flare of brilliance blinded him briefly, as he managed to turn on the flashlight while staring at the bulb.

One day he would learn not to do that.

He found his radio, and it seemed intact. Locate the team.

"Carter?" No answer.

"Daniel?" No answer.

"Teal'c?"

"O'Neill?"

"Teal'c, where are you? What's your situation?"

"I am well, O'Neill. However, Daniel Jackson in unconscious and in need of medical aid. We are currently in Major Carter's laboratory."

"Have you heard from Carter or Fraiser?"

"Doctor Fraiser, was in the laboratory next door. I have not seen Major Carter since this morning. I had thought she was with you." He could almost hear the arching eyebrow in his words.

"She left just before all hell broke loose. Teal'c stay there and try to locate Fraiser. I'll try to find Carter. We will meet you there back at Carter's lab asap."

"Agreed."

"O'Neill out."

He grabbed his pack and shouldered it, wincing as he settled it over his back. Considering briefly, he then grabbed Carter's pack as well.

Struggling with the door, but finally locating a manual override, O'Neill left the cabin. The first sight in the corridor echoed the sound of the dying ship around him.

Lying in a pile of mangled paper planes were the two security guards, both obviously dead. Having had nothing to cling to out here in the hallway, they had been flung around like leaves in the wind.

O'Neill turned his back to them and started off down the corridor.

The Asgard were so small. Like children. They sparked his instinct for protection. He had the urge to keep them safe. And the sight of their frail looking bodies mangled and broken... His heart lurched, and he swallowed, forcing himself to file the images away, and deny their existence.

The corridor sloped downwards in places, and upwards in others. Whatever the Asgard used for artificial gravity was obviously damaged, so O'Neill hurried, praying it would hold out. He combed the corridors with his eyes, hoping to find Carter, preferably in one piece, but apart from two other dead Asgard crewmembers, he found no-one.

Teal'c briefly radioed in at one point to inform him that he had found Doc Fraiser and she was attending to Daniel.

He only had to find Carter.

He came around a bend and almost ran head first into a dead end. The corridor bulkhead had collapsed and there was a suspicious hissing sound, probably atmosphere venting into space.

Turning around and intending to try another route, he was halted by a soft moan. He stopped, listening.

Another moan.

There was someone under all that twisted metal.

He made his way to the collapse, stepping over fallen light fittings and mangled bulkhead, a part of him hoping it wasn't Carter, the other hoping he'd found her. It didn't take long to find the source.

It wasn't Carter.

The crewmember lay on his back pinned just above his waist under some of that same mangled bulkhead, a pool of purple blood slowly spreading beneath him. He was conscious, and, as his eyes focused on O'Neill, his expression became one of amazement.

"C...Colonel O'Neill?"

O'Neill crouched down beside the man, trying to locate a way to get him out. "Yeah, that's me." He reached under the crumpled heap, attempting to gain leverage, no luck. "What's your name?"

"Linper, sir." The small alien coughed. A trickled of purple made its way down the side of his face.

"Well, lets see if we can get you out of here." He began shifting broken metal. The Asgard nodded, but his eyes wandered.

"Commander Thor said you saved our lives." The words were almost whispered.

O'Neill didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything, continuing to heave pieces of ship over his shoulder.

"Thor said we should honour O'Neill." He coughed again. "I would so like to meet the Colonel." The voice faded out briefly before saying, "Just once."

The sudden silence was deafening.

O'Neill knew, before he turned back to Linper, what he would find. That absence, that emptiness, where life once was.

O'Neill couldn't even close his eyes for him.

He closed his own. Turning, grabbing his pack, he left, making his way down the corridor, leaving his thoughts behind him.

**********

Thor slammed his fists down in frustration.

Little or nothing remained working. The pride of the Asgard fleet had become nothing more than a drifting hulk. Whole sections of the ship had lost atmosphere as the mechanisms designed to prevent such an occurrence had been destroyed along with the hull they were attached to. All attempts at communicating with the other two ships had failed.

Shields were gone, weaponry basically non-existent, sensors patchy. All chances of reaching hyper-speed had evaporated once the hull had been compromised, even though the hyperdrive engines seemed to be functional. Sublight engines were not responding.

He had had to send crewmembers running through the ship to assess damage and report back, as the internal communications system was also inoperative. What they had brought back was not encouraging. Engineering was inaccessible due to a coolant leak. One transporter module remained working and that was the only good news. What remained of Medical had priority access to that.

He stared at the flickering viewscreen again. Thor was highly suspicious that a previously stable moon, would choose to explode precisely at the moment they exited hyperspace. He was awaiting the appearance of the aggressors. They had to be out there. In the meantime, he was desperately attempting to contrive some means of defence.

"Ach! Dimwo woo dah!"

The first officer jumped out from under the main control board spitting expletives in multiple variations of Othallan Asgard, as sparks flew in all directions.

So much for weapons control.

He sighed, turning to internal sensors, attempting to assess the crew capability of the ship. Those sensors at least were working, partly. They had lost many people. Thor felt his heart sink as the statistics of the number of living persons aboard flashed past. Only several hundred out of over a thousand. He shut his eyes, willing the numbers from his mind. Tomorrow is a day to mourn, today we fight for the living.

His eyes returned to the panel, flickering briefly as he came across four human life signs. Where was the fifth? Who was missing?

A sudden need to know prompted him to activate their one transporter.

A swash of bright light and four humans appeared on the bridge.

O'Neill had been walking and kept doing so for a second before he realised where he was. Daniel Jackson was unconscious on the floor, Teal'c and Doctor Fraiser standing over him.

O'Neill caught sight of him and moved in his direction. "Thor, what the hell happened?" The human had purple smears on his uniform. Thor closed his eyes briefly yet again, steeling himself, before opening them to find O'Neill studying his face. "Thor, you okay?"

"I am well, O'Neill" He touched a hand to his head. "The cut is superficial. Unfortunately, I can not say the same for the 'O'Neill'." He indicated the console. "It seems that by some agency, most likely external, the moon we had come to investigate exploded the moment we exited hyperspace. This ship is severely damaged. We are unable to defend ourselves, or call for assistance."

"Exploded? The entire moon?" At his subtle nod, he could see O'Neill's mind flicking through possibilities. "Is there anything we can do? Beam Carter up here, she may have some ideas."

"I could not locate Major Carter."

The look on O'Neill's face abruptly reminded Thor that despite his appearance, this was a seriously ill man. He immediately regretted his abruptness.

"The internal sensors are only partially working, there is a chance that the Major is in a section of the ship we are currently unable to scan."

O'Neill moved up to the console. "Thor, she was on her way to Doctor Fraiser's lab. She has to be somewhere between our cabin and the lab."

As far as Thor could tell, the sensors in that area were largely undamaged, but not wanting to give up hope, he scanned the entire ship again.

Nothing.

"I am sorry, O'Neill, I can not locate the Major."

**********

Jack looked at the apologetic alien, not wanting to believe what he might be telling him. Turning to his team, he made a decision.

"Doctor, look after Daniel and assist the Asgard medical teams anyway you can. Teal'c, please offer your assistance to the damage repair teams. Keep in radio contact. I'll go find Carter."

He was about to ask Thor to beam him to her last location when there was a gasp from Fraiser.

Turning he caught a glimpse of the viewscreen.

Oh, damn. Wasn't one challenge enough? Did fate always have to throw him the curve ball?

As he stood and stared at the Goa'uld mother ship fast approaching their crippled vessel, he suddenly felt every single injury he had received in the last week or so come crashing down on him. He felt he didn't have the strength to rally himself for yet one more battle for survival. It had become too much. All these people dying, and now the fates wanted more.

He let one word slip, and it came out in a tortured whisper. "No."

No. No more. He was looking at the persons most likely responsible for all his pain and all the suffering of the Asgard. They were coming and the 'O'Neill didn't have enough life left in her to defend herself.

It had all been a trap. An elaborate trap. And they were caught like a bug in a spiderweb.

He looked at Thor and saw the answer in his eyes. They could not let the Goa'uld have access to this ship's technology.

He would not.

God, he hoped Carter was in a better place.

O'Neill held Thor's gaze as he let himself relax into a formal parade stance. "Commander, do we have any means of defense or maneuverability at all?"

Thor matched his stance. "Colonel, our defense systems are inoperable or damaged beyond repair, and our capability of maneuvering non-existent."

"Then, Commander, I formally recommend we blow the 'O'Neill' to hell and take those bastards with us."

Thor matched his gaze, and, for a moment the tableau froze pending his decision.

When it came, it was final.

"I concur."

Decision made, O'Neill relaxed. It wasn't a bad way to go, defending your beliefs and your allies. A brief glance at the still unconscious Daniel and his heart missed a beat. Sorry, Danny, we are not going to get out of this one.

The look on Janet's face made him proud. A scared, but steely, determination set her features. He sent her a slight smile.

Teal'c caught his eye and bowed respectfully. Always the warrior was Teal'c, and if he had to give his life, as long as he took a Goa'uld or two with him, he would be content.

Thor was fiddling with the console while conversing with a crewmember in Asgard. He finalised something and, turning to both SG-1 and his own crew, he made an announcement.

"Many have died today, but all have died with honour, and I have no doubt that all shall be remembered for their sacrifice." Thor caught his eyes and held them. "Let not us or our enemies ever forget the name O'Neill."

As the Goa'uld ship moved closer, one small grey finger pressed a button.

The world dissolved into light.

**********

Dark Places
Part 8 of the Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'Heart of Flame'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003

...The world reintegrated into a set of plain grey walls.

O'Neill spun, taking in his surroundings. Thor was beside him, Janet nearby, looking shocked, Teal'c looking surprised. Daniel still unconscious. They were in a cell, one wall buzzing with a force field.

A lone Asgard stood on the other side. He was smiling.

Asgard to the rescue?

Frere chuckled. "So you really did it, Thor? Made the ultimate sacrifice for your people. I had often wondered what the life of the great Supreme Commander Thor was worth. I guess I now know."

Thor looked thunderstruck. Speechless.

Frere just smirked. "What? You thought that the pathetic Goa'uld could do this all by themselves?" He laughed, and, turning, left the room.

**********

They were back in that cell where this had all begun. Back where Thor had originally woken alone. Back where O'Neill had died beneath his finger tips.

They had not been on that moon after all.

It had all been a lie.

Thor struggled to reconcile the man who had taunted him with the man he had called friend all these millennia. Frere had always been a little difficult, a little quick to anger, a little distasteful of other races, but he had never thought he would ever be capable of anything malicious. Certainly not a conspiracy such as this, of such magnitude, of so much death, and against his own people.

A brief flash of Fekel, weak with pain, bloody lesions scarring his face, struggling for breath as even that was taken from him, and an anger began to burn away the shock, building in his gut, burning through his nerve endings.

They were back in that cell where this had all begun. Back where O'Neill had died beneath his fingertips.

And it was all happening again.

O'Neill was lying in almost the same spot, Daniel Jackson's jacket under his head. He had been forced into the prone position some hours ago as his weakening condition overcame him. His illness, without medical assistance, had begun to manifest itself in the form of lesions not unlike those that had afflicted Fekel towards the end.

He had begun to bleed.

Eyes bloodshot green, echoed suppressed pain. The man said nothing, hiding it all, while his friends fussed around him, unable to vent their anxiety.

Thor had chosen a corner to sit and had said little, either, choosing to take some time to sort things out for himself. To examine the betrayal, to find out where he had gone wrong, and how he could have possibly missed the signs.

But most importantly to work out why.

He felt eyes on him. O'Neill.

**********

Jack looked at Thor. The small alien was a huddled ball of misery in the corner. The betrayal of Frere had hit him hard, and O'Neill could only imagine what it felt like. Sure O'Neill had been betrayed before - Makepeace, for example - but to have someone you have worked with for a thousand years or more, trusted with your life, to suddenly turn around and backstab both you and your people...it would be devastating.

Sorta like misplacing one of your team, O'Neill.

He was in pain, physical pain, yes, but it was nothing compared to the heart wrenching pain of losing Sam. The worst of it was the fact that he had no idea what happened. She was just gone. They were alive and she was not. He had left her behind, something he had sworn he would never do.

Then her body had been consumed by the unforgiving fire of the death of the 'O'Neill'.

He remembered her smile as she left that room - his last sight of her - it was engraved on his memory.

Along with a hundred other faces.

And faceless thousands.

He blinked rapidly, clearing his eyes of faintly green tinged moisture.

The other three members of his team had been awkwardly fussing around him. All totally aware there was nothing they could do for him, all venting their frustration in their own unique way.

Teal'c was meditating in a corner, probably preparing himself should a chance of escape occur. Janet sat next to Jack, checking his condition so often that he swore if she checked his pulse one more time he would bite her fingers off.

Daniel.

Daniel sat on the other side of the cell staring at him. He had been sitting there doing just that since he regained consciousness, and, frankly, it was making Jack paranoid.

"What?" His voice cracked and he coughed.

"Jack?" Daniel looked concerned as O'Neill waved off another attack of Fraiser.

Jack cleared his throat. "Daniel, you've been staring at me for ages. Do I have warts on my nose? What?"

"Sorry." Daniel's eyes suddenly seemed anywhere but on O'Neill.

"Daniel, is there something wrong?"

Daniel sighed, and looked down at his feet before looked back at him. "Jack, I know you have been avoiding me lately, and I know it has something to do with your nightmares. What I want to know is, why?"

Jack looked away. "It's nothing, Daniel." Now he wished he hadn't pushed for this conversation. How do you tell your best friend that you dream every night that he is torturing you to death? Next time he would put up with the staring.

Daniel leant forward. "No, Jack, it's not nothing. You flinch every time you look at me. And, God forbid, if I actually touch you." He calmed his tone. "Jack, if it's something I've done..."

Jack coughed, his voice fading. "No...no, Daniel, it's nothing."

"C'mon, Jack."

"Daniel."

"Jack, I want to know why you are scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you!" The thought was preposterous.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

They were interrupted by Teal'c deep voice. "It amuses me how two highly intelligent people can have an entire conversation using only one syllable each."

Jack glared at Teal'c. The man's eyes were still closed, but a very slight smile was on his lips. "Teal'c, if I could get up right now, I'd punch you right on the arm."

"You could try, O'Neill."

O'Neill tried to hide a smile and failed, his lips cracking. He looked at Daniel once again, saw the anxious defiance in his eyes, and suddenly wondered what he had been making all the fuss about. There was no way Daniel would ever set out to hurt him, so what the heck was he worried about? It was only a dream, wasn't it?

He had to say something before those blue eyes bored a hole into his head and retrieved the information themselves. "Daniel, yes, you are in my dream, but-" He lifted a hand to gesture and immediately regretted it. "Damn. Danny, don't worry about it. It is not going to bother me anymore, I promise."

"But, Jack..."

"Daniel, I said don't worry about it." He was talking too much, but he didn't care. He coughed to clear his throat. "I'll be fine."

Daniel must have seen something in Jack's eyes, because from that point on, he stopped staring.

O'Neill's eyes wavered in focus for a moment, and he had to blink to clear them again. His gaze wandered back to Thor, and realised that, perhaps, there was someone who needed to talk.

**********

O'Neill's eyes were on him again. Thor could feel it.

"Thor?" The voice was rough. "Come here, buddy." The sick man was gesturing him over.

Thor reluctantly rose, and walked over to his friend crouching down beside him. "O'Neill, I am sorry."

The pain filled eyes suddenly became confused. "For what?"

"It was an Asgard that caused all this."

The human's eyes flared. "For god's sake, Thor, you are not responsible for the actions of an entire people." He looked away for a moment before continuing. "Did you blame all humanity for the actions of a few rogue agents who stole your technology and breached your trust in us? No." He sighed. "This just proves that the word 'asshole' exists in any language."

Thor was about to reply when he was interrupted by Daniel Jackson. "Actually, Jack, in Goa'uld, the word 'a'ssh'oal' means 'pretty lady'.

O'Neill looked at Doctor Jackson and something passed between them briefly. O'Neill smiled slightly.

"My point exactly, Daniel."

They were interrupted by the cell door opening.

Frere stood staring at them, a Jaffa on either side of him.

"Oh, isn't this sweet. Old man Thor looking after his pet human."

Thor did not even look at his fellow Asgard, choosing to ignore the taunt. The traitor was not worth the effort of a reply.

O'Neill, on the other hand, had no such compunctions. He struggled to sit up, Daniel Jackson quickly moving in to assist him.

"So, Frere, kill any more Asgard lately?"

Frere leveled his gaze at O'Neill. &