The maintenance crew immediately called security when the green and yellow swirling disk formed in the air above the ramp. Therefore when the dark haired man fell out of it onto the ramp there was a squad of SF's to observe and begin wakening the ponderous beast of national security.
With the 'gate down due to long overdue maintenance on the giant transformers that supplied the right voltages to run it there had seemed no reason not to give nearly everyone a month's holiday. Some, with easily predictable recreation activities, were easier to find than others. They were sent to locate the missing.
Colonel Jack O'Neil entered his teammates home using the emergency key she had given him. He had knocked, and for that matter called ahead, and gotten no response to either. The base hadn't received any response either, which was why he was here looking for her.
As he walked through what was normally the impeccably neat living room he slowed down at the sight of overturned chairs and items scattered on the floor. More cautiously now, he moved forward. Expecting trouble he turned the corner to see Major Samantha Carter PhD, dressed in a Catholic school girls uniform, or rather most of one, with a dog collar around her neck the lead of which was clearly being held by someone out of sight.
"I don't want to know, do I?" Was his only comment.
"Perhaps we can start the briefing now?" General Hammond asked loudly. With the attention of the team gained he began. "Earlier this morning a man arrived in the SGC gateroom. This is the security camera recording."
As the rather short piece was shown the commander of the most important posting on the planet, as he felt justified to call it, studied the team in front of him. SG1 was here for their talents after all, as one of the diplomatic specialist teams would be if it were a negotiation. The entertaining but not particularly enlightening bit of footage ended just as an airman entered the room with a message. Or to be exact, a file, labelled :
Ultra is a security classification, the level above Top Secret, to be exact, not something seen everyday even by him. On opening the first page was the 'Get out of jail free card', as it was called when issued to CIA agents operating in Vietnam in his youth. It read 'Do not detain, hinder or interrogate this individual. Expedite ANY requested support and facilities. Contact USSOCOM and one of the individuals listed IMMEDIATELY if found unconscious or dead.'
Attached was the specific individual at United States Special Operations Command to contact, and a list of names, phone numbers and email addresses. SOCOM had sent him the file, and of course SGC was a part of it so his next move was to make a phone call while reading through the rest. He began with the name at the top of the alphabetically ordered list.
"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." Came the cheery female voice, sounding a little like his younger daughter.
"This is General George Hammond, may I speak with Mr Angel." Anyone involved in special operations gets used to the weird cover identities intelligence agencies use. And learned not to ask questions of odd cover stories of this kind. 'We help the hopeless?' indeed.
"What about?" The voice was suspicious.
"Mr Angel was given as an emergency contact for an Alexander Harris?"
"Xander's listed Angel as an emergency contact? Yeah right." There was a sound of questions being asked and then a new voice on the phone.
"I'm Angel, what happened to Xander and why am I hearing about it from the military?"
"And how badly injured is the dweeb boy anyway, not that I care or anyth?" The original voice cut in.
"Cordelia get off the phone and let me handle this!" Back to the male. "Could you please tell me what happened?"
"Mr Harris, ah, arrived suddenly at our facility with various injuries and is being treated in our base hospital. He is currently unconscious, and has a number of injuries but nothing life threatening, " All of which was true and safe to explain over an unsecured line, unlike the exact details. "His file lists you as an emergency contact which is what I am now doing."
Colonel Jack O'Neil was flicking through the file his CO had handed him, trying to get a feal for the situation. The document was shy on detail, lots of 'further information will be supplied on a Need to Know basis' concerning the kids activities. Not that that was what interested him about it.
No, what got the former cold war black ops mans attention was the tone. It read exactly like the files on Afghan warlords he had had to deal with during the Soviet Occupation. They were tricky people, who rarely trusted Americans or anyone outside of their tribe, - and not many inside if they wanted to live long - and the need to win them over paramount. Exactly why a United States citizen, a construction worker, was being treated like Muhammad Shah Masood was what raised his professional curiosity.
"It would seem that AlexanderHarris and his associates have had negative encounters with your countries military in the past, ColonelO'Neil." Teal'c announced as he read over the other mans shoulder. "ColonelO'Neil, please go back a page."
And back a page the Colonel went. The Jaffa did not speak much, and never for trivial reasons, so it had to be important, though Jack could not see why. There was a lot of trivia in here to match the crucial stuff left out, they had even secretly DNA tested the kid. It was just minor details he had not bothered reading, Date of Birth, Place of birth, Mothers name, Fathers name?"
All members of the United States Armed Forces have their DNA on file, in case their remains cannot be identified any other way. So when the Intitative had, through Agent Riley Finn's contacts in Sunnydale hospital, obtained Xander's DNA it was compared with the existing database and a match found. Of course bureaucratic compartmentation being what it is no one had bothered to inform the person matched.
"Ah Jack, why didn't you ever tell us you had another son?" Daniel Jackson asked.
Colonel Jack O'Neill was sent offworld for a while, that being the alternative to having him hunt down and disembowel several people at the Pentagon. Finding out that you have an adult son you never knew about is traumatic, if you are a conscientious man who cares about children, which O'Neill was. Finding out that his superiors knew about it for a year and didn't bother to tell him had triggered an explosion of anger the like of which few at the base had ever seen.
The briefing room table had had to be replaced, for one thing. Along with some doors, chairs, a noticeboard? Severed heads mounted on pikes in front of the USAF personnel department had been seriously discussed before he was sent to take his temper out on some poor, defenceless Goa'uld, a minor system lord had seemed about right. So he missed the fun of the 'Alexander Harris is in our base hospital' followed by 'he's standing right next to me so quit with the practical jokes Major Pain' telephone calls to Sunnydale. Eventually, of course, all good things came to an end.
"Mr Harris, we seem to be having a lot of trouble convincing your associates that you are here." General Hammond began. The total lack of any surprise on the one eyed man's face was about what he expected. Intelligence/Black Operations types never admit to anything over open lines, or even secure ones without reasons lesser mortals never seem to be able to find. Damn spooks.
"And who IS that Cordelia girl anyway?" Jack asked. The phone calls from her had been, ah, memorable.
"Ex-Girlfriend dad, dated her for two years in high school." And didn't that l stop the room.
"A greater proof of your courage and endurance would be difficult to envisage, AlexanderLavelleHarris. Teal'c said.
"Dad?" Colonel Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill said in a quiet tone.
No one had raised the subject of whether the man on the bed even knew who his biological father was. It was the sort of thing a base chaplain might have been asked to do, but Father Fitzpatrick was on PX3-835 performing the wedding of a local girl and an irrigation engineer on extended stay as part of a trade deal.
"Offworld activation" Was announced over the PA system. The only surviving Scooby seemed no more surprised by it than the others.
"I'm from 2007." The only surviving son of SGC's second in command said, in a way that expected it to explain everything. And in a very sober, non-Xanderian tone of voice. He looked them in the eyes as he continued. "It's all gone to hell, this was one of the last pockets of resistance because of all the Air Force stuff so we wound up here, and they DNA tested us to check we were human. And dad, I know the whole story about you and mom, no need to feel bad about it."
"Security to the gateroom, we have?" The voice was suddenly cut off by the sound of staff weapon fire. The Battle of Cheyenne Mountain was on.
"So why didn't you stay with Xander's mother?" Major Carter was a certified genius but her tendency to focus on problems and the unsolved did not go away just because the problem was human. It did make her rather insensitive at times like this. A staff blast blew chunks of concrete off the corridor corner they were taking cover behind.
"How's everyone fixed for ammo?" Was Jack's reply. The answers were all positive, there was enough for now.
The advance of the jaffa was slowed but not stopped when exposive charges installed as part of the overhaul cut power was cut wrecked the gate controls. The charges had been triggered by the last surviving control room technician.
"When was the last time you saw dad drunk?" Sam's question had not been forgotten, at least by the demon fighter. He remembered how much turmoil and guilt it had caused last time.
"Never." While he liked a beer or two occasionally, that was all it was, one or two.
"Mom hasn't had a drink since guzzling was invented, and Jack Harris is the same. And then there's the white powder, and the pills and the parties." A group of jaffa, with the goa'uld who was apparently leading them walked up the halls, trading shots with the defenders as they came on. None survived their passage.
"She said I live too boring a life, no excitement." O'Neill finally answered, after dropping three jaffa with single shots before ducking back behind cover barely in time to avoid the return fire.
"Bow before your god!" Came the loud announcement from the figure in the hallway. The response came in what used to be called a 'mad minute', as every one of the defenders fired full auto down the passageway. The staff blasts in the other direction added to the din, but since the invaders were standing with their 'god' and the defenders were firing from behind cover the result was predictable.
At least, it would have been predictable to anyone not as supremely arrogant and blindly contemptuous of his foes as a goa'uld system lord. A system lord who remained standing surrounded by the bodies of his troops, looking totally confident as bullets bounced off his personal shield.
Had he brought technicians with a DHD and power supply through before the gate shutdown? Were they even now re-opening the wormhole to his base and flooding the mountain with reinforcements? They had to get past him to find out, so the good colonel did what he had once before when faced with an impenetrable shielded snakehead. He threw his combat knife, which last time had gone through the field like it was tissue paper.
"Foolish Tau'ri, we ARE capable of learning!" And the snake sounded even more confident than usual. Which he would have thought impossible. "I have an improved shield that none of your iron weapons may penetrate!!!"
"And a lousy speechwriter." Xander shouted back. "Who writes your material anyway?"
"I am your GOD, all bow before me!"
"Yeah, yeah, heard it the first thousand times."
The 2IC of Stargate Command was thinking desperately. The way the corridors were set up there was no way around this creep short of blowing holes through a series of office walls. Something had to be done FAST, unless this was all a bluff, and he had to get to the gateroom to be certain.
"Hey butface, what's your name, anyway?" The father/son responses being so similar interested Major Carter, in that small portion of her mind that was not committed to the same problem her teammate was working on.
"I am Sha?" The name was cut off by Dr Daniel Jackson interrupting with a question.
"Excuse me, but you did say none of our IRON weapons would penetrate." The archaeologist was walking down the corridor slowly, speaking quietly and showing only academic curiosity. He had ducked into his office down the hall a few moments before.
"Yes, Tau'ri dog." No fear at all from the parasite infected human, he had not even raised his voice this time. Jackson took another step closer.
"So, proof against the standard bullets, staff blasts etc, and Iron edged weapons then." The Scholar rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his left hand. A few more steps closer. "Some kind of magnetic effect I suppose?"
"Do you have anything to say before I give you a death of unequalled pain?" The so-called god said as he raised his hand to show the torture device in the palm of his hand.
"Yes." A step closer, now he was within a few feet.
"What, insolent slave!"
"THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!" And the head of the would-be world conqueror bounced on the floor a second before the body noticed it was dead and crumpled to the concrete. The parasitic being itself crawled out of the corpse and was bisected, before the quiet man in the glasses began carefully cleaning his sword. Then he looked down at the head.
"Oh, and, bronze sword so it's not affected by magnetic fields."
"Ok, SG1, SG2 and SG7 will move directly to the gateroom, everyone else does a room by room search for Jaffa and wounded." Came the commanding tone of the grey haired SG1 leader. "Move like you have purpose people, move, move, move."
"So Doc, for a bronze age sword it looks to be in good condition." Scooby experience made for a certain knowledge of old swords, and this one looked barely used.
"Oh its not old, I had it custom made on P9R-822 to replace as a replica of an original I used to have." The linguist was still carrying it, not having had time to return it to his office collection. "And as we were saying before we were so rudely interrupted, you're from the future, I assume there's a reason you were sent rather than SG1?"
"Yes, I noticed you didn't open the message satchel I was carrying."
"Well the file on you says to keep hands off so we kept hands off son." It was General Hammond again, he had been co-ordinating the defence from the upper levels, as a good senior officer does these days. "I take it there are messages for us in there."
"No winning lotto numbers but yeah, everyone gets mail." Edited highlights of six years SG missions, tech development, the solution to the Asgard's biological and Replicator problems etc, all on dvd. Then the scooby thought of a question that had occurred to him earlier and been forgotten.
"Daniel, what's with the 'only be one' when you killed the Goa'uld?" Major Carter asked.
"Old habit."