Five years. That's all it had taken. Five years, and only seven hundred or so Tau'ri lives. Plus a few thousand free Jaffa and a few hundred Tok'ra, but the Tau'ri had never worried too much about other races' casualty statistics. Neither had the Jaffa nor the Tok'ra, come to that.
The second Stargate on the Moon established by the Asgard and Tok'ra to `break the monopoly' of the Cheyenne Mountain operation succeeded in its objective when the US Government opened their Stargate to all nations, and the lunar operation was closed down. In the five years since it had been relocated in Nevada, the Stargate had disgorged thousands upon thousands of heavily-armed troops and equipment from many nations to any world where the Goa'uld and their cohorts were active. Where they decimated them. The initially much larger Jaffa armies had no answer to the greater mobility and firepower of Tau'ri troops whose home world had never stopped developing the art of war.
The Deathgliders that had for centuries struck terror into victims on the ground became smoking incandescent arcs falling out of the sky wholesale, taken down by missiles whose speed and accuracy allowed no mercy. And once the Earth scientists had worked out resonance frequencies of Goa'uld force shields, making them about as effective as net curtains, they handed the invention to the Asgard. Suddenly Goa'uld mother ships in space collapsed from within as small explosive charges teleported from Asgard cruisers destroyed vital components.
As Goa'uld numbers diminished in so many places, so did their ability to rule by terror. Nothing turned oppressed populations against their former rulers as fast as the need for revenge, and the carnage was unprecedented in galactic history. The Tok'ra, whom many races branded as untrustworthy by association with symbiotes, accurately predicted the forthcoming hostility and withdrew to seclusion before the war's end.
But even as the victory celebrations were continuing, Tau'ri plans for a "new galactic order" were being put into operation. Not an empire sustained by military might, but the tried and tested method of expansion by commercial dependence to unsuspecting and sometimes naïve peoples, or merely those thirsting for `more'.
The Nevada Stargate quickly became a business portal for exports of franchises, licences, and a few manufactured goods. Planet after planet saw the familiar illuminated `M' signs marching away from their Stargates, marking the latest outposts of burgerdom.
To discourage unprofitable enterprises and others who would interfere with commerce, the fee payable for using the Nevada Stargate was established at one million dollars per return trip. Wormholes became the playgrounds of Corporations and the very rich.
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On the third planet of the Epsilon Eridani system, Samantha O'Neill closed the door of their Asgard-built house and workshop earlier than usual and started the daily 3 kilometre journey back down the hill to their village home. After twelve years on this world, she no longer considered it unusual to move straight from working with alien tools and computers back to the almost mediaeval lifestyle of the village community. Not that the work she did there was all futuristic and high-tech: her machine skills meant that she had regular requests from her rural neighbours for making and sharpening saw blades, knives and axe-heads. She was particularly proud of the fact that no-one could match her skills with the saw blades.
She had a routine for winding down from the intense concentration needed to turn multi-dimensional fifth-order equations into Stargate practical control linkages. Most days, it consisted of jogging home and singing out loud, or reciting poetry to herself. But today, a special day, she walked slowly, musing about the ways her life had changed since the day she had without hesitation, helped Jack to escape from Earth with his life. How, from the moment she knew that he had to leave, she had never once thought that she could be anywhere but with him.
Random scenes from their life together lingered in her mind. The realisation that she was pregnant two months after arriving in the Asgard house……. The look of surprise and joy on Jack's face when she broke the news…… His simple "Marry me?" as he held her had been the greatest thrill of her life. Only to be surpassed when, over the next seven years, she had held each of their three children for the first time….. How moving from the sterile environment of the naquadah-powered alien hillside house to one of the basic log cabin dwellings in the village, and learning another language to fit in with the community, had been less of a challenge than she had feared….. Coming into the main room of their gradually expanded (self-built!) house to find Jack playing games, telling stories, or reading to the kids. Big kid himself!
She recalled a particularly heated row (the cause long forgotten) with Jack one evening, when in her anger she had thrown a blanket down to him out of the window and told him to sleep in the barn. She had relented in the middle of the night and went out to fetch him in, only to find that the children's idea of fun had been to creep out of the house and sleep in the straw with daddy and their dog. And how Jack had cried the next day when the dog was killed in an accident.
The presence of a Stargate on the otherwise rural planet had lead to the usual influx of mechanical and electrical marvels brought in by travellers and merchants, but they were truly rare. Wood and oil were the basic fuels for most inhabitants, except in the distant small cities, where rudimentary generating stations provided unreliable electricity supplies to some of the town houses and factories. Countryfolk saw little need for it and rather than turning out to be the `tree huggers' once feared by Jack, most of them really were practical environmentalists.
If you wanted or needed to travel, you kept a horse. If you were rich, a government license would permit the import of a mechanical conveyance through the Stargate.
For a few years between their first and third children, when Sam had been a full-time maths teacher and Jack's pottery workshop had thrived, the O'Neill's had been slightly better off financially. That is, just a little better off than the state of `flat stony broke' that existed beforehand and now unfortunately would continue to exist until the local government could afford to pay for her work on the Stargate modifications - the same work that kept her from going back to being a teacher. But as long as they enjoyed the basics of life and the children were provided for, she didn't mind. Actually, she didn't care at all – most of the village folk were similarly blessed. It was a pity that Jack had needed to work such long hours these last six months, but he had never complained.
She hadn't realised how much of a bond they had with their neighbours until disaster had struck them two years previously. Jack had severely beaten two men who had broken into his pottery one evening and smashed half the stock. Since there was no prospect of paying the fine he received from the Magister, he started to serve a one week gaol sentence, only to be freed one day later when the village had collected enough money on his behalf.
So as Sam neared home, she knew just how much she wanted them to stay on this world, and that she shared the general viewpoint that a vast influx of commercialism through the Stargate had to be prevented. Her work was vital.
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`Samantha O'Neill is 47 today!' proclaimed the banner strung between their house and the barn. The birthday girl recognised her 11-year old daughter's handiwork and smiled. She was so proud that Kathrin was now as fluent in English as her native Latin.
She made a fuss of nine-year old Bart and their youngest, Elise - now just turned five - before going indoors to freshen up before the garden party in her honour. Friends were already congregating and the barbecue was well under way. She hoped that Jack would make it back in time from the trip he had started two days before.
As evening sunlight added red tints to the scene, Sam was delighted by the good wishes and simple home-made presents given to her by her extended village family. A bottle of wine, pastries and fruit treats, and a wonderfully soft hand-knitted wool scarf from Janica, her best friend who took her children to and from school. Music played on the fiddles and flutes by villagers didn't quite drown the excited chatter of adults nor the screams of younger children chasing around and laughing.
Suddenly, during a brief lull in the music, someone shouted "Listen! What's that?" Silence fell, as in the distance, a sound strange to this world, and one that Sam hadn't heard for many years, got gradually louder. Her curiosity peaked as the loud vibrations seemed to enter the village and she walked quickly forward so that she could see past the barn. Her astonishment was complete when Jack rode around the corner on a Harley Davidson motorcycle and sidecar outfit and came to a stop in front of her, his face a wide grin. A smiling, silver-haired woman clad in tight-fitting black leathers unwound herself from behind him and dismounted. Up close, Sam thought she looked vaguely familiar, and observed that she was around sixty, about the same age as Jack. "Thanks, Jack!" the woman said. What *was* going on?
Villagers and children crowded round at the sight of the strange arrival. After warning them to keep away from the hot engine, Jack embraced Sam and the kids, wishing her a happy birthday. "I brought a special guest." he said, turning round to introduce his passenger. "Do you remember Sylvia Siler, Sparky's wife?"
"Oh, yes!" said Sam, remembering. "I'm sorry I didn't recognise you straight away! But what…..?"
"Don't worry, it has been twelve years." said Sylvia. "And we didn't meet that often. But I'm here just to help with the surprise." She turned round and placing two fingers in the corners of her mouth, let out a very loud, shrill whistle. They heard a second engine burst into life and moments later, her husband rode into view. On Sam's vintage Indian bike. He came to a stop in front of them, switched off and dismounted, the same huge grin on his face that Jack was sporting.
Sam stood frozen to the spot, mouth agape and heart hammering. "Happy birthday, Mrs. O'Neill!" he cried. He held out the keys to her, but Sam leapt forward and threw her arms round his neck, kissing him on the cheek. A round of cheers and applause went up from the party guests.
"For me?" cried Sam. "Oh, Sergeant… No, wait, I can't call you that… Sylvester? Thank you! Thank you!"
"Jack calls me Sparky, and it's kinda stuck, so why don't you?" said Siler. "And don't thank me, this is Jack's doing, from start to finish!" Sam released him, turned round and jumped on Jack, arms round his neck and legs around his waist. He whirled her round once and let her down again. She ran her fingers over her prized possession, which she had long ago resigned herself to never seeing again.
"How?" she asked Jack, who was trying to stop Bart and Elise from climbing up to join their mother astride the bike.
"I knew I could trust Sparky. We served in the same unit in the eighties." Jack explained. "That morning we left Earth for the last time, I asked him to spirit your bike away until I could come back for it one day. He never even asked me why, did you, Sparky? This was the first chance I had to go back and get it. Anyway, I did it for a selfish reason. Now that you'll be travelling to and from the Stargate regularly, you'll be able to spend fewer nights away when the work gets under way. Oh, and here's your Government permit to use it." he added, offering her the envelope taken from his pocket.
Much later that night, with the Silers bedded down and the children asleep, Sam and Jack lay in each other's arms, cooling down after the most passionate love-making that they could remember for a long, long time.
"Jack, this is the most wonderful thing anyone's ever done for me." sighed Sam. "But I've got to ask, how did you manage it? The license and the Earth Stargate fee?"
"The license came from the overtime I put in this last year. Sold quite a lot in a few villages I've not been to regularly. The gate fee – well, do you remember when Janet Fraiser came to see us about five years ago? I gave her power of attorney over any assets I had left back on Earth. We owe her big time. She sold my house and kept the money. I couldn't transfer any money off-world, so she kept it until something worthwhile came up."
"What did you do?"
"I got Jacob to drop me back in Colorado in a Tel'tak and made contact with the Silers. Did you know they still belong to the local chapter of Hell's Angels? To cut a long story short, I paid the fee for their whole gang to go through the Stargate to Abydos, and kinda joined them temporarily. Then we gated here while the rest of them stayed there. They're going back day after tomorrow, less one gang member who decided to stay off-world."
Sam said nothing for a little while. Then she moved her head up and kissed him on the cheek. "I don't know what to say, Jack." she whispered.
"No need." murmured Jack. "Just stay a part of my life, and be you. I love you so much."
Sam lay awake long after he'd gone to sleep, wondering how she could ever give back to him the love and respect he'd shown her. No answers came.
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Six months later, the Nevada dialling computer eventually calculated the address of the Epsilon Eridani Stargate. A high-powered commercial franchising and mining delegation was readied for gating to a world that should be ripe for exploitation. Much to their surprise, they arrived on Chulak after exiting the event horizon. Thinking that a mistake had been made, they returned to Earth and re- dialled. This time they ended up on Edora.
Six attempts, and six different planets later, the address was quarantined until such time as reliable connections could be made.
Back on their home world, Sam and Jack looked on with satisfaction as their new double Stargate successfully re-routed all travellers from `undesirable' origins, which definitely included Earth. It had been Jack's concept originally, as Sam pointed out to the government official.
"I got the idea from mechanical coding machines used in World War 2 on Earth." explained Jack. "The Enigma machines connected letters to other different letters electronically, so that coded messages could be sent from a keyboard to form different letters at the receiver. I thought that two Stargates mounted together could be wired so that the second gate would activate and immediately send travellers to another world with a different address. Sam's work on calculating and establishing the connections was the easy part." he grinned. Sam punched him on the arm. "I got the Asgard to do me one last favour by delivering the second gate."
"The hardest part was making the two gates work with each other instead of competing for incoming signals." said Sam. "So now there's only half a dozen worlds that can send us incoming traffic, each watched by people who can warn us if there's trouble."
"Well done indeed!" said the Government inspector. "We're thinking of awarding a medal to the pair of you, in recognition of this great work."
"That wouldn't be instead of paying us, would it?" asked Jack, menacingly.
"I'm sorry, must rush." said the inspector, leaving quickly, and consigning the O'Neill's to a lifestyle that they didn't want to change anyway.
`Hic transit gloria mundi', as they say in Latin.
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ted.sadler@ntlworld.com
Story Notes: For those of you, like me, who can't remember the previous parts of sequels, here they are, in order:
"Flight"
"Landed"
"Grounded" part 1:
"Grounded" part 2:
I think the inspiration for this one came from the Dire Straits' song "Telegraph Road".
"Flight"
"Landed"
"Grounded" part 1:
"Grounded" part 2:
I think the inspiration for this one came from the Dire Straits' song "Telegraph Road".
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]