The Stranger Within
written by Tiffany May Harrsch

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Epilogue:

Two semicircles of people curved around the Circle of Passage and the activation device, preparing to say farewell yet again. A victim of misunderstanding, she died only a short time before the paralyzing disease would have claimed her. For that, there would be no hate for the two legged beings who had sped her fate. Only grief for one more loss among so many.

One thing set her death apart from the others that have frequented their people. It had forced them to learn that they were not alone, either on this world or in this universe. As many still deny this difficult lesson as those who found comfort in it.

He hovered near his friend, wishing his presence was less unsettling. His friend's hair stood half raised and an ear twitched at random intervals. He was obviously distressed and yet he remained up front with the body of his mate. His closest friend would help her family bear his mate's body into the Passage, as he had helped her bear him, putting his feelings aside this one last time for them both. The glow of his new form brightened slightly with pride.

His mate, not wishing to distress her family or friends any further, drifted behind the larger line. The Change, as he had come to think of it, was new for her. The reactions of the people to their presence was even more unsettling in this form than when they had both possessed bodies.

The priests finished speaking the Rites, and the Chant began. One of the priests lifted to the uncomfortable two legged position to press the sequence that would bring life to the Circle of Passage. His mate had always thought it was the most beautiful part of death, this Passage and the bearing to the next world.

He had never thought there would be a next world. But the two-legged beings, the ones who called themselves human, had come from another place. The man he had briefly shared a body with had seen many such worlds. Perhaps the place the dead go to would be as beautiful as the fields of home.

The other who had shared a body with a human for a short time would be staying behind. Like he did, she had unfinished business with the living. It was his mate's opinion that the mother might stay even after her child completed the Change. He hoped so. It would have helped his transition if he had known he wasn't the only ghost living on after the body had gone. Perhaps she and her child would still be around on the day their people finally acknowledged the Changed One's existence.

The Passage settled into a vertical disc of shimmering glory. His mate bobbed forward, drawn by the beauty, the ceremony, and the short time they had left here. Though upset, she was trying to ignore the reactions caused by her passage. The bristling of fur, the nervous twitching of ears, the low whines of unease as the body reacted to a presence it could sense but not see. The humans could see them, but the humans had left to tend to their own wounded.

Together, he and his mate waited behind her family and their mutual best friend. Her body disappeared through the Passage, and the living stepped back. The pair of lovers brightened a moment in anticipation, then glided toward the Passage. Their shimmering merged with that of the Circle of Passage, and they were gone, to discover what life lay after the body's death.

The Chant of the Setting Sun ended as the last rays of the sun left the sky.

L* L * L * L

Epilogue: Part II:

Cloy sat between Douglas and Murphy, purposefully ignoring the conversation on the other side of the curtains. General Hammond had not been too pleased when he respectfully declined the assignment to reestablish contact with the people of PJ4912. At least he had understood. They were expected to act as a team.

Cloy personally would not have minded returning - under more pleasant circumstances. And Murphy was eager to get back on his feet and out again. He had spoken of what he remembered without any apparent hard feelings. Indeed, he was fascinated by the entire proceedings. Cloy thought Murphy would welcome going back just to be contrary.

McGarrah and Douglas, on the other hand, he was certain would not take the return well. McGarrah was unusually quiet anytime mention of the planet or the cats were made. Even now, he slouched in his chair more than was his wont, and his face was entirely too pale for comfort. All they were doing was visiting with Murphy and Douglas. Though Douglas seemed to have an understanding of the shimmering things that bordered on the supernatural, Cloy knew him well enough to tell when he was uncomfortable with a situation. When he started speaking for himself and McGarrah, rather than the other way around, it was usually a bad sign.

"Here, we brought something for you."

McGarrah tossed Murphy the package he and Cloy had brought with them. McGarrah was feeling a little more comfortable, Cloy was pleased to note. He was talking again.

Startled, Murphy fumbled the catch with his good hand. Cloy caught it before the box hit the ground and handed it back. He shot a warning look to McGarrah, who merely grinned and shrugged.

They patiently waited as Murphy opened his gift. He held it up with a bemused look. "A shirt?"

"Sure." Douglas grinned at McGarrah's newfound enthusiasm. It was nice to see their spokesperson back. "We all pitched in. Had to guess on the size though."

Murphy looked as if he weren't sure how to take the gift. But he was very polite about it. "Thank you."

McGarrah shrugged again, actually looking embarrassed. This was a first. Only Shorty ever got him embarrassed. "Well, we figured after the last one got ruined you'd need a new lucky shirt. I just hope it's the right shade."

Murphy brightened and blushed, the color matching his new shirt. "Thank you," he said again, this time meaning the words. He grinned at them.

"Just do me a favor though," Cloy put in. "Don't wear it on anymore missions. That kind of luck I'd rather avoid."

Murphy's grin widened. "Yes, sir!" He snapped off a salute with the wrong hand. Cloy was glad the General was behind the curtain. Though he still did not have a full range of motion, he could move his right arm enough to give a proper salute.

Murphy struggled to lean forward, not quite masking the groan the movement caused.

"What are you doing?" McGarrah asked in alarm. He was half out of his chair, his face pale.

"Putting it on."

"Now?"

"Yeah. Nurse Clark's due in any time now. I can use all the luck I can get.."

L* L * L * L

Jack looked horrible, but still better than Murphy. Both men must have been feeling well, however; they were joking with each other when Daniel came in to visit. He was saved from the embarrassment of having to apologize with an audience by the rest of SG 7. With a grin and a mumbled 'excuse us', Cloy drew the curtain closed between Jack and Murphy. Well, at least it gave them the pretension of privacy.

Daniel stood with his arms crossed at the foot of Jack's bed. He felt he needed to apologize to Jack for the mess. Jack wouldn't have been injured if Daniel had been able to fight the presence better. As it was, Jack had been lucky the female cat had been as ill as she was. Daniel doubted he would have survived the encounter otherwise. Now, if only he could get his mouth to work.

Jack watched him expectantly. Daniel opened his mouth, and sighed instead. "I brought cards," he said lamely.

Jack smiled but his brows furrowed. "Good. I would be bored silly if it weren't for my roommate over there." Jack nodded toward the curtain.

Daniel pulled up a chair. He sat and shuffled cards, stalling until he could find the words he was looking for. He scribbled on the notebook he also brought along, and started passing out cards.

Jack's brows went up. "Gin? What, hoping to beat me while I'm down?"

Daniel smiled faintly at the jibe. "No, I just didn't think Janet would appreciate chess pieces all over her infirmary."

"Oh, very funny," Jack replied in mock unamusement.

Daniel picked up his cards and tried to ignore the chuckles from the other side of the curtain.

"Feeling more like yourself?" Jack asked, looking over his cards.

Daniel ducked his head. "Much," he murmured. "Jack, I…"

"Murphy told me what it was like for him." Jack spoke in tones low enough not be overheard by SG 7. He ignored his cards and instead studied Daniel. "He also said that when it got emotional, it took over his body. He couldn't fight it."

Daniel wasn't sure if it was an accusation or not. "I should have fought harder," Daniel said, his voice laden with self recrimination.

Jack snorted. "Has anyone ever told you are one very stubborn man?"

Daniel ignored the jab.

"I tried."

"I know."

Daniel looked at Jack's sincere brown eyes, then unseeingly at his cards. Acceptance, assurance, belief - all of those filled those two little words. If there had ever been any blame on Jack's part, it had long since gone. Still…

Jack jumped in before he could say more. "I, for one, am ready to get back to work. I've had enough with breaks to last me. You," he started suggestively, "still have time to see some sights, somewhere. I could talk to the General, maybe get you on with Ferretti for a couple of weeks…"

"No!" Daniel jumped in a little quicker than he intended. "Thanks, Jack, but I think I've had enough with vacations."

Jack chuckled, then groaned when the movement jarred tender areas. "That makes two of us, Daniel."

"Did I miss the joke?"

Daniel sat straighter.

Jack grinned at the new arrival. "General."

"Dr. Frasier has informs me that you will be fit active duty in a week or two."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Was that a smile hiding on the General's face? "I would like SG 1 to be part of the team to reestablish contact with the people of PJ4912."

The smile fell from Jack's face. "With the cats or the other things?"

"Both."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "With those parasites, too?" His expression clearly said what he thought of that idea.

Daniel frowned. Jack was acting as if talking to the shimmerings was as distasteful as talking to the Goa'uld. Daniel might have thought that way if he had known he had been sharing his body and mind with another being.

Now that Daniel had his mind to himself, and could experience his own memories without interference, he was not so sure. What he remembered was a being very much in love, and having troubles forgiving it's family for leaving it alone the last minutes before it's change. He had trouble imagining a Goa'uld feeling the same way. Never mind that they Goa'uld knew exactly what they were.

It was pointed out in the debriefing that the shimmerings, what ever they truly were, did not have that luxury. The one that had melded with Murphy had honestly believed itself to be a mother of four. It remembered dying and could not understand it's continued existence. The one that had hitched a ride with Daniel did not believe itself dead, but also did not believe in life after death. An interesting quandary to be in.

There had been talk of helping the cats find a cure, or at least a treatment, for the disease. But Cloy had pointed out the inconsistencies related to the shimmerings. He had suggested that perhaps they were the next step in the cats' evolutionary process. Dr. Frasier had balked at the idea, claiming that that would be one hell of an evolutionary leap.

Cloy's words echoed in Daniel's head. "If they are parasites, they had been in those bodies from birth and don't realize the cats are hosts even after they are forced to abandon the them."

"So what you're saying," Jack began after the General filled him in on the speculations of the debriefing, "is that if we help them find a cure for this disease, we might really being killing them. Or, if these things really are like the Goa'uld, they don't know it."

Daniel nodded.

"And you want us to go back into that mess?"

"Captain Cloy and Colonel Makepeace inform me that they are a technologically advanced race. How advanced could not be determined in their time in there. They might prove powerful allies against the Goa'uld."

"And we can use all the friends we can get," Jack muttered.

"Assuming they want relations with us," Daniel spoke up. Both Jack and the General gave him perplexed looks. "I mean, after what happened between us, they may not want any part of us."

"It will be up to you to determine if that is the case or not." The General glanced from one to the other. "That will not be until you are up and about, Colonel. Meanwhile, enjoy your rest." This was said with a pointed look at the cards Jack still held in his hand.

Jack grinned. "Thank you, sir."

The General paused at the edge of the curtain. "And Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel exchanged a quick glance with Jack. "Sir?"

"Tissue boxes are not an acceptable means of communication," he said with a stern gaze on him. "If it ever happens again, I will personally see to it that you go through complete training for every piece of equipment we have at this facility that is even remotely related to making reports. Do I make myself clear?"

Daniel ducked his head, avoiding the General's eyes. He was afraid he might burst out laughing. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Daniel?" Jack gave him an appraising look as the General left. "Tissue boxes?"

~fin~

© 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa’uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

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