The Anunnaki Unification, Book 3: A Stargate SG-1 Fan Fiction Story

by Michele Briere

  “No,” Daniel held up a hand. “It’s the first week of school. You couldn’t have waited at least a month before resurrecting Che Guevara? Negotiations and contracts first, revolution last. You’ll apologize to Mrs. Talmidge for disrupting her class.”

  Back in the car, Sam looked at Jack and then in the mirror to see Daniel in the back seat. They both laughed.

  “What?” Daniel asked, still pissy.

  “She’s definitely your kid,” Jack said, chuckling as he shook his head. Daniel shoved his glasses up.

  “Revolution is not always the first answer to a situation,” he said, obviously. “Besides. I think she gets this from you. I talk, you act.”

  Once at the office, Sam used the arch to get to her own office and hustle her staff into getting the newest ships readied. Around the world, there were three yards with the new 304’s almost ready for trial launches. The ships were slightly smaller, but packed more power in their punches. They were being made for battle, not cruising the galaxy. Japan, still not a member of HomeWorld Security, protested, insisting that the US had plans on usurping its authority by aiming the ships at unaligned countries. Jack ignored Japan, treating the island as though it didn’t exist which succeeded in infuriating the Japanese Prime Minister even more. After the horror of WWII and then the Korean incident, Japan had begun to revert to its ever-present superiority complex and was taking it out on Jack. What Japan didn’t know was that Jack was closely monitoring the PM and knew the middle-aged man was having health issues. The man most likely to secede him was healthy and secretly pro-HomeSec, as were most of the younger generations. Jack was discovering that his new talent was an interesting thing to have on hand when it came to funding issues. Sending an unexpected birthday card or a get-well card to some unsuspecting fence-sitter got unexpected results.

  “I’m heading to Scotland,” Daniel informed him. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

  “No, go on,” Jack said. “The lady seems to be more your territory, than mine. Don’t tell her much. If she doesn’t agree to join us, I don’t want her having information to spill.”

  “And all the Skaara stuff?” Daniel gently asked, remembering his wife's pup-friendly little brother..

  Jack shrugged. “I scanned the kid,” he said. “If our Skaara is in there, I couldn’t sense him. It’s probably a coincidence.”

  “You don’t believe in reincarnation, anyway,” Daniel said.

  “This is true. De-ascending yes, reincarnation no.”

  “Something about those pics the Tok’ra brought in are bugging me,” Daniel said. “I’d like to take them with me.” Jack handed him the small recorder. Daniel smiled and pecked Jack’s mouth before heading off with a couple of SF to the al'kesh.

  “Colonel,” Jack said as he went into Davis’ office.

  “Good morning, sir,” Paul said.

  “Good morning. Colonel, I promised to pass on a message. You’re scaring the neighbors.”

  Paul wrinkled his forehead. “Sir?”

  “You and Nick, playing in the wide outdoors,” Jack said. “Apparently, the neighbors are having a problem explaining to their kids why they can’t play in the woods anymore. Outdoors is fun, I’m all for it, just try and take it a little more out of the way. We’re having to take the same advice, so don’t feel picked on.”

  “Yes, sir,” Paul said, slightly red-faced.

  “Let’s talk about Goa’uld.” Surprised, Paul nodded and leaned back to listen. He was shaking his head an hour later and rubbed his face.

  “This really isn’t what we need,” he said. Jack had to agree.

  “We have time,” Jack said. “So far, they are only showing up on that planet. I’m sure there are other Goa’uld still out there; they’ve been keeping their heads down with Jaffa that haven’ left them. I’m concerned about these because of the Aschen.”

  Paul slowly nodded. “The combination,” he began and then shuddered.

  “We can’t let that happen,” Jack said. He hesitated, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Listen, Paul…. This doesn’t go anywhere. Sam is trying to get pregnant. If she does, and whatever is going to happen does happen out there, I won’t be going. I won’t leave her pregnant or trying to deal with two babies in the house. Any action will be a UW mission and I trust our commanders to deal with this. So far, I don’t see a necessity for me to be there.”

  “Will you be sending me?” Paul asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” Jack said. “We have three Indian colonels coming in for SGC training. India-Indian. They will possibly be heading an away mission, undercover, to find out what’s going on. We’ll decide a plan of action when they get back. We’re not in a rush, so life goes on.”

  “Yes, sir. And best wishes for a baby.”

  “Thank you.” Jack smiled, suddenly realizing that by the following summer there might be a little Jake or Claire in the house.

  “Sir?” Paul leaned back in his chair, tilting it far back as he thought. “Why now?”

  “Sam wants a baby,” Jack began.

  “No, sir; that new Goa’uld,” Paul said, tapping a pencil thoughtfully against his mouth. “Where’s he been? Why haven’t the Aschen taken over that planet? You said there’s no evidence of Goa’uld technology, so how were the locals protected from the Aschen while a new Goa’uld could get in and take over?”

  “Those questions are being worked on,” Jack told him. “Daniel is speculating that there was a stasis chamber.”

  Davis nodded. “That would make sense, I guess,” he said, not quite convinced.

  “You don’t think so?” Jack asked, hearing the doubt.

  “I’m not sure,” Paul said. “Daniel’s the archaeologist, not me, though, it’s just…. something isn’t clicking. We should know by now that the Goa’uld aren’t always what they seem.”

  “Well, let’s see what our new agents come up with,” Jack said. He had to agree –something was going on. More than what the Tok’ra had realized.

  As he walked the short distance back to his office, he found himself stopping to check in with people. Cassie smiled prettily and pecked his cheek, Abigail had papers spread out everywhere in organized chaos, Mrs. Arthur was settling into Daniel’s offices and making sure all of his nick-knacks were in perfect condition as she dusted. She looked at Jack’s eyes and handed him a pear. Other admin assistants hustled about through the halls, getting their daily work done, while lab techs wandered around the military, discussing everything from particles and quanta to the latest episodes of something called Tripping the Rift and Eureka. As Jack walked, pausing to sign things or settle something, he realized he was edgy. He considered the ‘vibes’ and decided to give Jerrie’s idea a try. He found a quiet conference room and ordered an SF to make sure he wasn’t disturbed.

  It was easier to visualize the planet by using a satellite pointed at Earth. Jack brought up one of the satellites on a monitor and relaxed into a chair. There was nothing unusual happening in his own country, Canada was its usual happy, laid-back self, Mexico, South America, various islands, a few small upsets in Africa, England was settling at the end of a work day, western Europe fine, the Middle East was being their usual cranky selves, General Singh in India was up late, worrying, Russia was feeling more self-assured as their role in the modern world continued to grow, China…..

  Jack jumped to his feet and picked up the phone.

  “This is O’Neill. There’s a problem brewing in China,” he said when the line was answered. “I highly recommend any of our agents over there to keep a close eye on Beijing and cover Tien. Something’s going to start by midday their time. Positive.”

  Just before Jack was ready to leave for home, he was called and told that a group of Chinese rebel forces were taken into custody and charged with treason. If they had been poor farmers or students, he could have felt some sympathy for them. These particular rebels wanted China closed off to the imperial madness that was happening to the planet,
and return to old ways. They wanted an emperor and the war lords returned to power, since no other form of government seemed to be able to gather the country together and recreate a once great nation. Jack thought honor had played a role in the old times, but maybe he was mistaken.

  “Point to the Old Man,” he told himself. Now that he had identified what the sensation felt like, he was sure he would be able to ‘hear’ it when it called again. And thinking about things, he had to admit that his nanny seemed to have an instinct when it came to ferreting out clues and obscure hints.

  Sam came into his office just before he was ready to leave. She handed him what looked like a little .22. Jack took it and looked it over and then at her. She looked around the room and pointed at a plastic plant in the corner of the room.

  “It’s attacking, shoot it,” she encouraged him. Humoring her and hoping the SF weren’t going to come charging in, he fired at the innocent plastic plant. Instead of a bullet coming out of the small gun, there was a beam.

  “What?” Jack looked closer at it.

  “The Tau’ri version of a zat,” she told him gleefully. She squeaked with excitement and took it from him. She flicked a small switch, pointed at the plant, and fired. The plant disappeared. Jack’s eyes lit up even more. “We used the body of a .22 and rigged the zat technology inside it. In miniature! It has the same power as a regular zat! See this flat, clear surface on the trigger?” She showed him and he looked closely.

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s a microchip in it,” she said. “A biosensor. It’ll do a 3-zat for only people who get programmed into it. For anyone else, it will only do a one or two zat. You don’t have to hit it three times, either, just set it for three. It increases in strength, not numbers. You set it here for stun or kill, and for training purposes, it can be locked onto stun only by the trainer. Or whoever has the clearance programmed into it.”

  “Sweet!” Jack crowed, taking it from her again and looking with new eyes. “How long does the charge last?”

  “A thousand rounds,” she said proudly. “I know the zats last for years, but I don’t think it’s wise. We’re not Jaffa. There’s a small liquid naquadah cell inside the handle. About an eighth of the size that a staff carries. And the replacements are easy to install.”

  “How’s it programmed?” he asked as he found the level switch. He pressed it and noted a small light dancing up the barrel until two lights were lit, pressed it and three lights were lit. He pressed it again and the light went back to one.

  “The microchip is connected to our main computers,” she said. “The program will be accessed only by a few, well chosen people and each unit can only be activated by those people whose fingerprints agree with the program for that unit. You could, if you wanted to, give them to all the SG teams and have only a few commanders given access to the third level. Other soldiers could have access to two levels, and non-combatants would be given access to only the first level. Or however you want it done. You could trigger them all for second level in a war situation. Heaven forbid I should suggest you grant a third level for someone on a, shall we say, delicate operation?”

  Jack’s eyes were in permanent OPEN. “It’s a ray gun!”

  Sam groaned. “Please don’t call it that,” she begged. “We’ve been calling it NEMO22. Naquadah Enhanced Military Ordinance. .22 caliber.”

  His eyes were no longer stuck open. “Too much of a mouthful,” he said. He looked at the small thing laying in the palm of his hand. “Grasshopper.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Grasshopper,” he repeated. “The Men in Black already took Noisy Cricket. We get Grasshopper.”

  They went to Paul and showed him. Sam told him Jack’s name for it. Paul wondered how to talk his commander out of it.

  “Bug.”

  They looked toward the doorway. Cassie was leaning against the frame.

  “Why?” Jack asked.

  “Because it’s little and cute like a bug,” she said.

  “And it fits in your pocket just like Jiminy Cricket,” Paul said with a snappy smile.

  “Consider yourself smacked,” Jack told him. “Make it an anagram,” he told Cassie.

  “Big Ugly Gun.”

  They knew Cass didn’t like weapons. Considering who she worked for and who her family was, it was an interesting suggestion. Jack looked at Sam and Paul.

  “I’ll think about it,” he conceded.

  Jack and Sam swung by the schools and picked up their kids before going home. Stacey was still pouting, but the adults knew she’d survive. They picked up chicken for dinner and noticed fire trucks and police cars a couple blocks from their own house. The kids wanted to watch. Jack sent them into the house with the dinner. The air smelled of smoke. A fire. The house up the street was half blackened and dripping wet.

  “Started a couple hours ago,” Jerrie said. “I didn’t see much of it. The noise was bothering Olivia, so we went into Daniel’s den until things calmed down.”

  The parents walked up the street and into the crowd. There were many families standing around, watching the cleanup happening. Smaller children were sent home, civilians mingled with their military neighbors. The police were doing their job at keeping people back, so the SF stayed at their posts.

  “Anyone hurt?” Sam asked as they found Mandy and Maria.

  “No, thank God,” Maria said, crossing herself. “Betty and Clyde were still at work.”

  “Hey, Jack, how’s my sister?” Mandy asked. Several people nudged each other, looking toward them and whispering.

  “She’s doing well,” Jack said. “She’s on a mission, but she sent you a note. A couple of Tok’ra came in today.” He dug the note out of his pocket and handed it to Mandy. “She’ll come home for a visit as soon as she can.”

  “So how’d the fire start?” Jack asked.

  Before anyone could speculate, there was a shout and the police began to run. Several feminine screeches arose from the crowd and people were shoved back. Jack urged their friends back and walked forward for a better look. When he saw what the police were running after, he stood still and watched, amused. Sam stood next to him, snickering as a naked man ran to a fire truck and climbed on.

  “Oh, my God!” A man and woman pushed past them, horrified. “That’s…. don’t hurt him!” the woman yelled to the agitated police and firemen. The man on the fire truck howled and pulled at anything he could, throwing bits of broken truck into the crowd. As several policemen closed in, the man ran up the ladder.

  “Who is he?” Jack asked.

  “My…. brother,” the woman sobbed, not even looking at him. Her husband put an arm around her shoulder, holding her tight. “He’s…. schizophrenic.”

  Jack, no longer amused, reached and felt the jumbled confusion inside the man. He walked up to the line and eyed the young deputy who attempted to push him back. The deputy got a good look and swallowed hard.

  “Sorry, General,” the man said and let Jack under the rope. Jack walked toward the main group and took out his gun, taking aim.

  “General O’Neill, we’re not opening fire on him!” one of the deputies shouted.

  “Of course not,” Jack said. “Just be ready to catch him. Move!” he yelled, waving at the men on the truck. They saw who was taking aim in their direction and quickly scrambled out of the way. Jack fired. People looked confused as the gun issued a tight beam instead of a bullet. The naked man on the ladder twitched and was silenced. A moment later he began to fall. The men on the truck rushed to catch him.

  “What the hell is that?” demanded Captain Manners. He took off his fireman’s helmet and wiped his blackened brow.

  “A bug,” Jack said, putting it back into his pocket. “The guy is just stunned. He’ll come out of it in a few minutes.”

  “We hadn’t actually gotten around to trying that on humans,” Sam said, watching the men carefully lower the unconscious naked man. “Just a few animals. Small ones. Guinea Pigs. Various other rodents.” />
  Jack looked at her and then sent a feeler to the unconscious man.

  “He’s alive. It works fine,” Jack told her. “Got any more ready? Good. We’ll send them into the field with a couple of teams. They can test the things out there. I don’t see that we’re going to get volunteers to line up for an experimental shooting. If they work well, maybe Andy and his troops could take them for a test drive, too.”

  A few people were walking up from behind and sidled in next to them.

  “You have a new toy and you’re not sharing?” Nick asked. Jack handed the bug to him and the other men leaned over to examine it with him. Jack recognized the men from the SGC, a SF and a lieutenant, and someone he didn’t know at all and didn’t seem to be military and yet walked with the same air of confidence that other men did. The men all had leather vests on.

  “Sam’s Area 51 team just introduced it,” Jack told them. “It’s a B.U.G.”

  Nick looked at him. “It’s a .22,” he said, turning the small thing over in his hands. “Not much better than a fly-swatter. How’d you get it to throw out a naquadah beam?”

  “A couple of teams decided to have a contest,” Sam said. “See who could make a smaller zat. Those things are bulky. So one team used the body of a .22 and redesigned the inside.”

  Nick noticed that she didn’t answer his question. “Is it going on the market?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Jack said. “It’s bio-encoded for certain people. Even if someone steals it, they won’t be able to use it. We’ll probably give them to the front line teams off-world and try it out in a few cities with the police.”

  A child pushed the big men out of the way and stepped in front of Jack, holding up a scraped elbow. She pouted at him. Jack sighed, having known that this was going to happen. He stroked her hair and touched her arm. She smiled and ran away.

  “I am not going to walk around the planet kissing owies,” he hissed at Sam.

  “Can I have one?” Nick asked hopefully, carefully examining the small gun and ignoring the child. Sam laughed at the little boy in his face.

  “I think we can arrange that,” Jack said. “That one’s mine, though. You’ll need to negotiate with Sam.”