"In the first year there made its appearance from a part of the Eruthrean sea ... an animal endowed with reason, who was called Oannes. This Being in the daytime used to converse with men ... and he gave them an insight into letters and science, and every kind of art.

"He made them distinguish the seeds of the earth, and showed them how to collect fruits; in short, he instructed them in everything which could tend to soften manners and humanize mankind. From that time, so universal were his instructions, nothing material has been added by way of improvement."
~Berossus, 3rd century B.C.E.

4000 years ago ...

When the ashrak brought their quarry home through the Chappa'ai, the fish creature was deposited in the prison. Held behind bars, the sight of the beast was like a freak show and Marduk enjoyed the perspective as he came to finally meet his prisoner. The Goa'uld knew very well there were other beings on Earth, mingling with the humans and influencing them. Some were sneakier than others-like the Asgard visiting the icy lands they called Midgard, but with the Oannes, it was different.

From the beginning, the Oannes wished to end the Goa'uld occupation and fought against Ra at every opportunity.

Now they had failed.

This was their leader, the only one left alive. What a strange beast, Marduk noted as he watched her pace in her cell. She was imposing-larger than him both in height and girth-and her skin was a mottled collection of blue and green markings. At Marduk's approach, she looked at him with pale eyes, unblinking from a face unlike any creature he'd seen before.

"Omorroca," he said, the corners of his lips curving slightly as he let the last of the name pass his lips.

She remained silent, her breath hissing loudly in the room. Now that he was closer, Marduk could see bruises marring the surface of her skin, and there were scrapes here and there that wept dark blood. Her capture hadn't been an easy one.

"Look at you," he continued, pacing before her. "You fought us coming to Earth, to take the humans as the slaves we rightfully own. You think you can challenge our rightful claim over this world simply because you have technology."

She stepped forward, one webbed hand reaching for the bars of her prison. She still refused to answer.

"For all your efforts to incite the slaves of Earth to rebel, where are you now? Where are the fruits of your labors?" He stood just steps away from her, his hands held out before him. "The very humans you befriended turned on you. They led the ashrak to your lair, where the she-creature sleeps by night before walking among men by day."

"You destroy," she said, her words lisped in a quiet voice. "This ... is not right. Intelligent beings ... must have the right to choose their own destinies."

"Creatures who play with bronze and build pathetic buildings of mud and straw and fight among themselves," he scoffed. "They're no more than animals whose only function is to serve us."

"You see so much," Omorocca said sadly, "and yet you are so blind."

His eyes flared, and he straightened up. "Enough! You have chosen your own destiny, Omorocca of Oannes. By daring to defy us, you have condemned yourself to death."

"As have you," she replied.

Marduk ignored the taunt. He turned to his First Prime, the Jaffa standing out of the way of the confrontation. "Enkanen, kree!"

He stretched out his right hand, and in the palm Enkanen placed a golden disc. At its center, a blood red jewel was embedded, glistening in the dull light. Marduk brought it to eye-level, examining his newest possession with a pleased smile.

"The Eye of Tiamat," he murmured, stroking its cool surface. He glanced at Omorocca, who seemed to tense as the object made its appearance. "Ah, you recognize this, do you?"

He knew she did. For barely evolved beings, the Oannes were powerful, and now Marduk had what he coveted. A source of power that would bring him one day to challenge Ra, if he wielded this properly. And now he held it up, the jewel pointing toward Omorocca.

"And now your time is through," he said, and there was a flash of light and heat directed toward the fish woman.

A moment later, she lay on the ground, her body rent in two.

Marduk stared at Omorocca and at the blood seeping quickly from her torn flesh.

"Clean this up," he snapped to the Jaffa, turning on his heel to leave the room.

Present day ...

For an abandoned planet covered with ruins, P2X-338 was duller than most-and a hell of a lot hotter, too. Jack O'Neill swiped at his forehead, catching a bead of sweat with the cuff of his sleeve before it could evaporate. He was beyond bored. He'd been pacing out in front of the damn ruin they'd spotted on the MALP, with the rest of SG-1 ensconced at the entrance in the meager shade. The door was locked, and Indiana Jackson was trying to find the key.

They'd been at it for an hour. Jack grimaced, taking a sip from his canteen before going to check on their progress yet again.

Assuming there was any progress to speak of ...

"Hey!" he called, striding into the alcove tucked into the front of the stack of bricks. "I thought you said this was the main entrance."

He swore to God Daniel hadn't moved from the door during their entire stay. Hands tracing the embossed symbols on the big door, Daniel didn't look back as he responded.

"It is. We just need to find a way to open it."

Oh, déjà vu. Jack rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to expect a direct answer.

"I do not recognize the symbols," Teal'c said, giving O'Neill a level look.

"Of course you don't," Jack muttered.

From the side where she was taking her usual mineral samples of everything within reach, Carter gave him a look. He looked back.

"It's cuneiform," Daniel supplied, fingers retracing one panel lovingly. "It's incredible. I mean, this is the first time we've seen it on a Goa'uld structure, though that in itself doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, so?" Jack stepped forward and peered at the wedged script. He'd only seen the writing once before, and that mission hadn't exactly been a stellar success. "You recognized it easily enough when Nem scrawled it in the sand five years ago."

"True," came the admission as Daniel inched up to stand on the toes of his boots. He ran a finger along a new panel, a frown developing between his brows as his lips formed the sounds before him. "Well, Babylonian cuneiform is like hieroglyphs in that they're pictograms representing concrete and abstract meanings, but this is something slightly different. It's almost like it adopted the characteristics of Ugaritic which used a limited number of shapes as phonographic representations for an early alphabet."

Jack endured most of the ramble with a patience he didn't have five years ago. "That's nice, Daniel. Does it say how to open the pyramid?"

"Ziggurat," Daniel said.

"Huh?"

This time Daniel looked at him. "You said 'pyramid.' This is a ziggurat."

"Pyramid, ziggurat, tomayto, tomahto," Jack shot back. "So can you open the door?"

The look-annoyance bordering somewhere on amusement-Daniel gave him lasted a few more moments. Jack just stared back and waited for the conversation to continue. It didn't take long for Daniel to gesture at the door again. "Well, it might not be so easy. I'm a little rusty on my Akkadian-"

"You just said Babylonian," Jack pointed out, still a little vague on the pyramid-ziggurat connection. Why did Daniel throw these geeky curveballs?

"I did."

"So why are you mentioning accordion-whatever?"

Oh, Jack knew that look, too. Smug tolerance. "Babylon is the city. Akkadian is the language. They're interchangeable to a point."

"Ah. Okay, so? I'm still waiting for my answer on the door."

"Well, as I was saying, I'm a little rusty so I'm going to have to go back to Earth for a reference."

Visions of bags of books flashed before Jack. "Just one reference?"

"Maybe more."

"It's you. There'll be more. Anyway, how hard can it be?"

"Very," Daniel said. "It's a dead language, and judging by the look of this ziggurat, I doubt anyone's even stood here for three thousand years."

Carter cleared her throat and got to her feet. Jack's eyes were on her in an instant.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Daniel," she said, holding something gingerly between thumb and forefinger-a something that by the looks of it definitely shouldn't have been recognizable.

"What've you got there?" Jack asked, hoping he was wrong. That couldn't be what he thought it was.

"An empty package of cigarettes." She held it out, and bold Cyrillic letters stood out on the faded packaging. "They're Russian."

And Jack O'Neill suddenly realized life would be getting a hell of a lot more complicated for the SGC.

Damn.

Calls were made, and SG-1 was grounded until the full story of the Russian involvement came into the open. Daniel had exiled himself to his lab with his books and recordings of the ziggurat door. Teal'c was there for moral support, and Carter had vanished once the team had debriefed. That left Jack to haunt the control room and wait until General Hammond emerged from his office and the undoubtedly overused red phone.

He was surprised when Hammond came out after only an hour. He looked pale and disturbed, approaching Jack and shaking his head.

"Good or bad news, sir?" Jack asked.

Hammond's voice was a little hoarse. "I'm not sure just yet, to tell you the truth. I do know the Russian government is happily sending us the information we need. I want the rest of SG-1 in the briefing room in half an hour."

"They spilled the beans, sir?" Somehow Jack expected more resistance or something. "Just like that?"

"In a matter of speaking."

"Will the wonders ever cease?" Jack muttered, giving the older man a slight smile before hightailing it out of the area.

Evidently not, as the briefing proved. Once SG-1 was gathered around the briefing room table, Hammond had four folders ready for them. Jack peered through the slim offerings, noting the three uniformed men in Russian camo and an eccentric looking gentlemen with a goatee. Any information with the photos was in Russian, and Jack glanced across the table at Daniel, hoping he could provide a handy translation.

"I've gone over the data the Russians gave us when we helped them shut down the Stargate last year," Carter began once Hammond started the meeting. "The Russian Stargate program was only up for thirty-seven days. Now, we've seen their logs and the list of planets they've visited. P2X-338 was not one of them."

"Perhaps they deceived us," Teal'c suggested.

The general shook his head. "At the moment, all they're admitting to is that there may have been some unauthorized use of their gate."

The vague phrase made Jack want to scratch his head. "Okay ... so what's that supposed to mean?"

Hammond gestured to their folders. "The highest ranking officer is Major Valentin Korinsky." A dour face with a square jaw. "He was serving under Colonel Zakolov at the base in Siberia. It now appears he was also taking secret orders from certain hard-lined elements in Russian army intelligence. He disappeared six days before we were called in to deactivate the Russian gate."

"And they think he went off-world," Daniel concluded. "Now they have their answer."

"Apparently, Doctor." Hammond gestured to the other photos. "In addition to Korinsky, there are two other soldiers missing, and an archaeologist named Alexander Britsky."

Daniel held up the photo to get a better look at it, peering over the rim of his glasses. "I know his work. He's an expert on Ancient Mesopotamia, in particular on Babylonian cuneiform. He did some spectacular work in Iraq before it got too dangerous to do field work there."

"Okay, so we have a missing field unit," Jack said. "Why would they go behind Zakolov's back?"

"Perhaps for the same reason the NID conducted off-world operations without the knowledge of Stargate Command."

And Daniel finished Teal'c's thought. "Of course, to steal alien technology at any cost. Don't they realize the Cold War finished ten years ago?"

"Well, whatever their orders are, why did they select '338 instead of another planet?" Carter asked, looking to Hammond for answers.

"That is yet to be determined," he said.

"They could still be out there!" Daniel exclaimed. "If they went through the Stargate before everyone on the Russian base was killed, they might have tried to go home but failed."

"Not on '338," Carter told him. "Not after a year, anyway. When the sun is directly overhead, we're looking at daytime highs of one hundred and thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit. The environment is extremely arid, and our UAV showed no sign of surface water in the immediate area."

"That doesn't mean they stayed on the planet," Daniel replied. "They may have gone elsewhere, or maybe they took shelter inside the ziggurat?"

"You mean they opened the door?" Jack asked, with a pointed look at Daniel.

He was rewarded with a wince. "Jack, I'll figure out the door."

"So you say ..."

"Jack."

"Daniel?"

And Teal'c cut them off before the debate could carry on. "There is one concern, O'Neill. If this team attempted to return after we deactivated the Russian Stargate, they would return to this facility. Should they not have attempted to return by now?"

"Not without exposing their operation," said Sam. "They could be still be waiting for some kind of signal, whether on '388 or on another planet."

"She's got a point, General." Jack shifted his chair to look at the head of the table again. "Russian commandos can be pretty hard core. They'd wait forever before they'd violate mission protocol." And he knew whereof he spoke from his happy days in Special Forces. "I say we head back to '388, see what had their interest, and go on from there."

"I'm aware of their reputation, Colonel," Hammond replied, and for a few moments, he looked like he was sitting on one damn uncomfortable chair. "That's why I'm going to allow a second Russian team to accompany you back to the planet."

Jack nearly stuck his finger into his own ear to make sure he was hearing correctly. "Excuse me?"

"It's going to be a joint mission," Hammond continued, as though Jack hadn't interrupted. "And that means full disclosure, and full cooperation."

Jack chose to ignore the meaningful look being directed his way. "May I ask why, sir?"

"The Russians have been pushing for more direct involvement in the Stargate Program for quite some time. Up until now we've been resisting, but in this particular case, it might be useful to have them on board." The meaningful look continued with the added glare to say it wasn't negotiable.

But it was Jack's day for selective hearing. "Well, General, you know I'm a big fan of the Russians, and international relations are a big hobby of mine. But you know, I do believe SG-1 should handle this one, alone."

"The decision has been made, Colonel," Hammond said. "The Russian team is on their way, and are due to arrive at 1430. Once they've been briefed, you'll both be cleared for departure. Is that clear?"

Jack felt the eyes of his team on him. Carter looked perturbed, and Daniel wore the same frown he had whenever he wondered what was going through Jack's mind. Teal'c's expression was hard to read, but that wasn't new-sometimes Teal'c deliberately set his face that way. After their last encounter with the Russians, the big guy had rented all the Cold War movies he could find, and had wondered why no one in Siberia spoke like Sean Connery.

"Yes, sir," Jack finally said, and he just knew this would be a long mission. "Thrilled."

Daniel heard Jack and Sam's approach long before they reached his lab. They were arguing, and that was bad news. When Jack got in one of his contrary moods, the best thing to do was to listen with half an ear and make sympathetic noises. Daniel's usual formula was to banter and otherwise distract. Sam took Jack too seriously and tried to engage him in debate, something Daniel at times likened to talking to a brick wall.

Jack wasn't stupid, but he was damn stubborn when he wanted to be.

"We have an agreement, sir," Sam was saying. It didn't take a genius to find out the topic of this debate. What the hell was Jack's problem with the Russians, anyway?

"Yeah, you see them holding up their end of it?" Jack demanded. Daniel wanted to counter with what the exact definition of theirs was. He decided to stay quiet and keep his eyes on his monitor.

"Well, have we?" Sam asked pointedly. Go Sam!

Daniel peeked a look to see Jack staring at her, mouth working to form an answer. "That's not the point!"

"If Thor's ship hadn't crashed into the ocean with the Replicators on board, we never would have told the Russians about the Stargate," Sam continued.

"So?" And now Jack was just being belligerent. In another few seconds, Daniel would step in.

"So with all due respect, sir," Sam shot back, and Daniel knew the first words weren't sincere, "I'm just saying we should at least try to work together."

This time, Daniel really paid attention. Jack's stance was radiating tension, and he had a finger jabbing in Sam's direction. "Carter, when you go through that gate, you gotta know your team members are watching your six!"

Ah, trust issues. Déjà fricking vu. Daniel decided now was the time to open his mouth. "Actually, in Russian they'd be watching your shestye."

Jack looked at him, dark eyes annoyed at the interruption.

"Which I suppose is neither here nor there," Daniel finished, but they were distracted and the argument forgotten-for now. He gave Jack an innocent smile before returning his attention to his computer.

"Yeah, whatever." His focus now on Daniel, Jack came and plunked down on the side of Daniel's desk. "Have you figured out how to open that pyramid yet?"

"Ziggurat," Daniel said.

"Whatever." A paperweight found its way into Jack's hands.

"And yes, I think I have." Daniel glanced at the paperweight, and immediately decided it wasn't worth the effort to rescue it from Jack's wandering hands. "I began to make headway on the translation when the Russians emailed me all of Dr. Britsky's notes, that they could find, anyway. I have to refine a few sections, but I'm confident I'll have it solved."

"So what do we know?" Sam asked, taking the other chair in the office.

"Well, this temple is dedicated to the Babylonian god Marduk." Even though no one could make sense of the hieroglyphs, Daniel decided to indicate the name anyway. "In mythology, he was a very important god who was given power over most of the world. Historically, he was originally just a minor god indigenous to Babylon who was promoted virtually overnight to the role of supreme god when Sargon of Akkad conquered Mesopotamia."

"And the door ...?" Jack drawled.

Sam ignored him. "Marduk was a Goa'uld?"

"I'd say definitely. When I met Nem five years ago, he told me that his mate Omorocca took part in a resistance against the Goa'uld in Babylon, before she was murdered by a Goa'uld named Belus." At this point, Daniel turned in his chair to get the reference book lying flat on the table next to Jack's hip. "And Belus is one of the many names given to Marduk."

"And his reputation precedes him," Jack said, shaking his head. "So, it's a temple to Marduk. What's the key to getting past the door?"

"Well, it's just a matter of-"

The phone rang, and Jack groaned. "Come on, enough with the suspense already!"

Daniel glared as he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Doctor Jackson, are Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter with you?" General Hammond asked.

"Yes, sir, they are." Daniel frowned as he saved the document he was working on.

"I want SG-1 in the briefing room in five minutes."

"We'll be there," Daniel promised. Once he had the phone disconnected, he looked right at Jack. "The Russians are coming."

"Oh, you probably spent hours thinking that one up," Jack groused.

Daniel just smiled as he collected the papers from his desk. "Maybe."

"It shows." Jack waved Sam toward the door. "Go on ahead. I'll help book boy here with his stuff."

"Yes, sir," she said and disappeared from his office.

Daniel handed Jack a few books, then stuffed his papers into a convenient folder. He ejected the CD from the computer and slipped it into a case. While stacking everything together, he conversationally began with, "So what was that?"

"What was what?" Jack asked, crooked halo above his head and dark eyes blinking guilelessly.

"The, uh ..." Daniel waved a paper for emphasis, "whole anti-Russian thing."

"Oh, that what." Shrugging, Jack flipped through one book and ended up dropping some of the bookmarks. "Oops."

"Nothing vital." And Daniel stared, waiting.

"Baggage," Jack finally said.

"Baggage?"

"Yeah. Long story."

"Summarize with bullet points if you need to."

Jack looked at him. "If I tell you, I gotta kill you."

"That kind of baggage, huh?"

"Let's just say it was a bad mission. Russians were involved. Some people died. Some of my people died."

"Oh." Daniel waited a moment, then said, "Not all Russians are-"

"Yeah, I know. Look, I realize the Cold War's over, but you just don't go from enemies to best buddies overnight." Jack's gaze began to wander, the physical distance between them increasing. "Hell, do you realize that in ten years the bureaucrats might be going cheek-to-cheek with the Goa'uld?"

Daniel felt his blood chill. "I hope not, but that's sort of going to extremes. Russians and Goa'uld aren't the same thing."

Jack focused his dark eyes on him, intense and questioning. "No, but the sentiment is."

"Maybe," Daniel admitted, even though he wasn't too sure. "But the point is, we're going on a mission with the Russians."

"Thanks for the reminder," he grumbled.

"Jack, no matter what anyone feels, the Cold War is over. Hell, I grew up in the seventies. I remember never knowing if or when the bomb was going to drop. But we're supposed to let bygones be bygones, let some water pass under the bridge, and all those apropos clichés."

A smile cracked Jack's somber façade. "You really want to get into a cliché war with me?"

"Not really." Daniel checked his watch and winced. If they hurried, they'd just get to the briefing room in time. "It's time for the briefing."

"After you," Jack, ever the gentleman, said as he motioned to the door.

Five minutes later, west met east in the briefing room. SG-1, in the company of General Hammond, found four soldiers standing at attention, their uniforms a distinctively Russian camouflage. Salutes were exchanged, and both sides eyed each other from opposite sides of the table. The symbolism made Daniel uncomfortable, and he edged slightly off to the side to be closer to their guests. Someone had to be friendly.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Hammond began, nodding to the group.

Jack, eyes fixed on the fourth soldier, added, "And ma'am. There's a ma'am, sir."

The female Russian bristled at the comment. She sent him a scathing look, a message crossing any possible linguistic barriers about how little she appreciated the attention Jack had brought to her gender. She reminded Daniel of Sam in the early days of SG-1, with how sensitive she'd been to anything that suggested female meant "weak" or "less." And there was Sam now, giving the woman a sympathetic look.

"At ease," Hammond continued, after briefly recognizing Jack's comment with a nod at the woman. He focused then on the oldest male. "You must be Colonel Zukhov."

The colonel had a pleasant, toothy smile and intelligent dark eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you, General Hammond. Allow me to introduce my team-Major Vallarin, and Lieutenants Marchenko and Tolineva."

Vallarin was a cold-faced blond, and Marchenko a slightly older man with a mustache. They both regarded SG-1 with a neutral expression. Daniel found himself smiling at Tolineva, who returned it with a definite twinkle in her brown eyes.

"Welcome to Stargate Command," Hammond said, including all four in his statement. "I only wish it were under more amicable circumstances. Let me introduce you to SG-1."

That part of the introductions went quickly, and throughout, Zukhov's eyes seemed to be locked on Jack's. They were eyeing each other, sizing their apparent opponent up with vaguely disguised unease. Well, Jack was the uneasy one. Zukhov smiled widely and offered his hand when Hammond stopped speaking.

"Ah, the famous Colonel O'Neill," he said, and they shook hands firmly. Jack looked less than thrilled. Daniel wanted to kick him. "I believe we have a mutual friend."

Something flickered in Jack's gaze. "We do?"

"Doctor Svetlana Markov. She spoke very highly of all of you."

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"Very well. She passes on her greetings."

"That's swell," Jack said.

Daniel stared at him.

"Before we proceed," Hammond continued, interrupting with an officious tone before anything else could be said, "does your team need anything? Rest or something to eat?"

"You are very kind, General, but we took the precaution of eating before we came." Zukhov leaned back in his seat, gesturing to the two teams. "We are as anxious as you to solve this mystery."

Hammond nodded and gestured to Daniel. "Very well. Dr. Jackson?"

"Oh, right ..." It took a moment to load the CD and call up the files he needed. Once the images were projected onto the screen, Daniel dimmed the lights and began his briefing. "Ten years ago, Dr. Britsky supervised a dig outside of Rafa, in Southern Iraq. Some of the results were published, but one particular find remained secret. His team uncovered a cache of tablets, which is usually pretty big news in the archaeological world. In this library were some stone tablets, most of which were engraved in Babylonian cuneiform, as well as these symbols Britsky didn't recognize."

He pointed to one panel on the screen with the tip of his pen, tracing the outline of Earth's point of origin symbol.

Sam's eyes widened after a moment. "Those are the gate coordinates to P2X-338."

"That's right. Anyway, as I said, some parts of the dig were published in journal articles, the library and its contents became classified. Someone must have recognized the significance of the symbols and gagged Britsky."

"So how did the Russians know what they were?" Jack asked, frowning. "They never even saw a Stargate until last year."

"Well, they had the original DHD from the Giza Stargate," Daniel said. "The Germans located it in their 1906 dig, and then the Red Army confiscated it after World War II."

"So when Dr. Markov's team opened the Stargate, they added P2X-338 to the list of addresses supplied by Colonel Maybourne," Sam said, directing her comments to the whole table. "Like Abydos, '338 is closer to Earth than most of the planets in the network. The computer didn't need to compensate for stellar drift, so that's why it worked for them."

"Okay, that explains one thing, but why didn't they send a regular team? I don't recall there being any other archaeologists in the Russian program." Jack shot a look at the Russians, but they either didn't notice or they had good poker faces.

"Did Dr. Britsky's notes say why they singled out this planet?" Hammond asked.

"He did. Along with the coordinates, the tablet included a reference to an object called 'The Eye of Tiamat.' It appears to be a large jewel of some kind which supposedly endowed Marduk with great magical ability." Daniel adjusted his glasses for a moment. "Now, based on our experiences with Goa'uld technology, that sounds like something larger than the usual ribbon device we've seen to date."

This time, Jack met Zukhov's gaze head on. "That wouldn't be why your people wanted to keep this all quiet, huh?"

"Need I remind you, Colonel," Zukhov began, his voice even and civil as he met Jack's gaze, "that the United States has operated the Stargate in secret for years with the expressed purpose of obtaining alien technology?"

Score one to the Russians. Secrets made for messy relationships.

"That was before we had an agreement to share information," Jack shot back.

"You took it upon yourselves to represent the interests of the entire planet without consulting anyone." Zukhov paused, daring to look at Hammond, too. Daniel felt like he was watching a train wreck in progress. "You exposed the world to countless dangers."

"Can we continue?" Daniel tried to interrupt, looking at both parties.

Jack didn't seem to hear him. "Well, at least we dealt with it. It only took, what, a month to find something you couldn't handle?"

"Gentlemen!" Hammond glared at them both, and to Daniel's relief, Jack backed down. He sat back in his seat and just bristled quietly. "Thank you. We seem to be going a bit off topic."

Zukhov murmured an apology as Vallarin spoke up for the first time. "Doctor Jackson, what about the entrance? I understand you were unable to enter the ziggurat. Can you get us inside now?"

The moment of truth. Daniel changed the image on the screen to the door and its many panels. "I believe so. The engravings on the door are a code, like a giant combination lock. It's just a matter of activating the correct symbols in the proper sequence. I think the reason I was having so much trouble is because Marduk deliberately created a type of coded language. Dr. Britsky had some insights into this construction, and using his research notes as a guide, I'm pretty sure we can open the door."

"I have utmost confidence in your abilities, Doctor," Hammond said, turning his chair to face the table again. He addressed both teams next. "You're cleared to depart in thirty minutes. Dismissed."

"Dismissed."

Ah, the magic word. Jack pushed back his chair to guide his kids to the locker room to prep for the mission. He wanted to be prepared for anything, whether it be Goa'uld or something a little more terrestrial. He snuck a glance at Zukhov's team as the Russians left the room first.

"Jack." Hammond's voice called him back, so he turned on his heel to face the general. "I'd like to see you in my office for a moment."

"Yes, sir." Waving the team on ahead, he followed Hammond into the office and closed the door. He waited until Hammond sat down before he started speaking. "I know I was out of line, General."

"Well, that saves me a breath," the older man said. "Are we going to have a problem with the mission, Jack?"

"If the Russians behave, I see no reason why we won't have a successful mission, sir," Jack said, deciding to be truthful.

"I'm happy to hear that. Would you mind telling me what the hell that was in there?" Hammond stared at him, irritation showing on his face and coloring his cheeks. "That was damned inappropriate, Jack."

"Yes, sir."

Hammond nodded, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "I understand where you're coming from, Jack. I served during the Cold War, and I certainly still have some ... reservations about working with the Russian military. For the good of this command, I need to push aside my personal qualms. This mission requires cooperation, and I don't want to see anymore of this behavior."

"Yes, sir," Jack said again.

"Good. I'd hate to have to replace you with another commander." The smile he gave Jack was weary. "Go gear up. I have Zukhov's team readying in SG-4's locker room. I want you to meet them and escort them to the embarkation room."

That Jack could do. He tipped Hammond a salute. "Service with a smile, sir."

And he did try, at first. SG-1, decked out in desert camo again, met up with Zukhov's unit. The Russians wore a dark camo with their dark berets perched properly on their heads. Jack grouched to himself about how inappropriate the uniforms were. If they got pinned between the Stargate and the ziggurat by nasties, the Russians would stick out like sore thumbs.

"Is that the P-90, Colonel?" Zukhov asked, eyeing the gun strapped to Jack's body with an appreciative gleam.

Okay, now was the chance to play nice. "Yup. Fifty round horizontal clip, nine hundred piercing rounds per minute." He unclipped the P-90 and offered it to the other man. "Feel the weight of that sucker."

Zukhov hefted it with one arm, testing the gun and eyeing its features before handing it back. "Impressive. My preference is the Zastava 85."

"That's cool," Jack said as the two teams came into the gate room. "Those AK-47s are just too clichéd, huh?"

He thought he saw Daniel wince, but he wasn't sure. Zukhov just stared at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. Any possible forthcoming comments were forgotten as the Stargate began dialing. The sight of the alien device had all four Russians looking in awe, and they collectively flinched as the wormhole erupted.

"Okay, kids, let's show our guests how this is done," Jack called, motioning for his team to head up the ramp. He waited at the base, ready to follow the Russians. They'd snapped out of their astonishment and were now listening to Zukhov speak.

Jack knew just enough Russian to pick up what Zukhov was saying. Something about being careful on the other side, and to succeed for god and country or whatever.

"Is there a problem, Colonel?" Zukhov asked a moment later when his team followed SG-1's steps.

"What was that?" With a nod toward the subordinates, Jack waited for an answer.

"I was just wishing them the best of luck," came the stiff reply.

"Sweet." He eyed the Russian for a moment. "Just one last point, Zukhov. I'm the ranking officer on this mission."

"It is a joint operation," Zukhov said. "Russian and American aside, we are of equal rank."

Bingo. "So naturally you should appreciate the need for a clear chain of command. I've got the experience when it comes to the Stargate. Everything you think you've seen on Earth has barely prepared you for what's out there."

They stared at each other, long moments passing before Zukhov finally nodded. His point made, Jack was about to suggest they depart when Hammond's voice came over the speakers.

"Colonel, is there a problem?" His tone suggested there damn well shouldn't be.

"No, sir!" Jack called, and he was surprised to hear Zukhov echoing him.

He hoped that wasn't the way the mission would go.

The ziggurat's door still wasn't open.

Jack let out a deep irritated sigh as he watched Daniel's hunched figure sitting by the damn entrance. He held a book to his chest, clasping it and peeking for references when not focusing on the cuneiform. He'd been at it for nearly an hour, and when that time was up, Jack was ready to look into very alternative means of saying "open sesame."

When Jack's watch showed fifty-nine minutes, Jack had to talk. "Daniel ...?"

"Just about there," Daniel said in a tone Jack associated with car trips and impatient children.

A few seconds later, the digits turned to sixty. "Daniel ..."

"Look, if you want to give this a try, be my guest." Daniel didn't move, but his voice held enough sarcasm to scare off the average idiot.

Jack wasn't an average idiot, and he couldn't believe he thought that. "It's a door. Aren't Krinsky's notes helping? He opened it."

This time, he earned a glare. "I don't have his mission notes, Jack, just his references. Do you remember 'The Mummy'?"

"Sure." The three times Daniel dragged him to the theater, and the video nights ... how many times? Between that and Teal'c's "Star Wars," Jack was making up for years of action flicks.

"Remember how the workers opening the vault triggered the booby trap?" Daniel continued.

"Yes ..."

"This is a Goa'uld temple, Jack. Having a locked door obviously is a clue they don't want people waltzing in uninvited. Imagine the booby traps they might come up with." They stared at each other for a few moments, Daniel allowing the vivid possibilities to sink in. "Now, ask me again if I'm done yet?"

"Ah. Booby trap. Gotcha." Jack made a face, inching back and eyeing the closed door speculatively. "C4 wouldn't help, huh?"

"And leave the structure still intact? No."

"Ah. Carry on." He eyed the Russians again, where they were gathered silently at the other side of the alcove. They didn't look too happy in the heat, and Jack felt for them. He really did. "You guys okay?"

"We are, Colonel," Zukhov said, face redder than normal. "Yourself?"

"Peachy." Movement from the door drew his attention back. "Daniel?"

"I think I have it now." Getting up on his knees, Daniel closed his book and glanced back at the two teams. "Okay. This is the standard retelling of the Babylonian creation myth. Well, not exactly." He waved his hand vaguely over one section. "Marduk came to power when he slew Tiamat. He used half of her to create the sky, the other half to create the Earth."

"So what's different?" Carter asked.

"Well, first of all, the story's out of order. That's our combination lock. It isn't immediately obvious at first-"

"No plot spoilers?" Jack wondered. "Last chapter of the mystery at the start?"

"No, Jack, and Colonel Mustard didn't kill the guy in the library, either. Anyway, the discrepancies are more textual than anything else. One line placed in the wrong spot every now and again. It isn't anything major so only a priest of Marduk would be able to notice."

"How does that help us, Doctor Jackson?" asked Tolineva, watching Daniel curiously with wide eyes.

"Well, the misplaced lines are the keys to our lock, but there's something odd." He brushed the dust off a few panels. "This isn't the version of the creation myth I'm familiar with. There are some changes and additions we don't have in the surviving copies on Earth. There's quite a few symbols I don't recognize and I can't find a reference for them. I can guess what they are from the context, but ..."

Jack vaguely remembered the linguistic babble from way back whenever. Apparently Carter did, too, as she spoke. "How did Britsky open the door, then?"

"He has a better grasp on this cuneiform than I do, and he possibly deciphered the words on his ..." And then Daniel was leaning close to the door, his nose almost pressed against the metal. "Or he probably made a very lucky guess."

"What makes you say that, Doctor Jackson?" Zukhov was playing along, but there was definitely a slightly annoyed sound to his voice, and Jack wasn't sure if he liked that.

"Why didn't I see it before?" Daniel's finger jabbed one letter and turned to the group. "These symbols in particular don't represent Babylonian words. They're used in an alphabetical manner, like Ugaritic. They're the same ones that stumped me earlier, and now I know why. They're Goa'uld words, just spelled phonetically in this script."

"That's great, Daniel, so can you answer the question yet?" Jack smiled not-so-sweetly as Daniel looked at him. "Can you open the door?"

"Yes." Daniel scrambled to his feet, the action distracting Jack from the urge of wanting to rejoice after finally getting his answer. Daniel's hands skimmed the wall, before pausing above one particular panel. His palms were a bare inch from the surface. "The Goa'uld isn't talking about Tiamat, who's supposed to be an ancient and powerful serpent. But in these lines, the name is different. Marduk's boasting about his defeat of Omorocca."

"I don't know that name," Vallarin said.

"We'll explain later," Jack replied, waving off the question. "So, Daniel, are you gonna say open sesame or what?"

"Cute, Jack," came the murmur, before Daniel cleared his throat. "Okay, bear in mind the source. 'There came a race of creatures from the sea, a beast of blended form between a man and a fish. Man named them Oannes, and they brought with them forbidden knowledge and discord into the land of Babylon.' Probably knowledge that tried to elevate them from the status of slaves, but ..." Daniel paused, touching the wall carefully. The panel beneath his fingertips sank into the surface, making a loud, rusty sound that had Jack bringing his P-90 up in alarm. "Wow."

"What are Oannes?" Tolineva asked uneasily. She and her team had their weapons up, too.

"Alien beings who visited your world," Teal'c said.

Zukhov shook his head. "More aliens every day."

"You don't know the half of it," Jack muttered. "Daniel, next?"

" 'The creatures walked among men by day and returned to the abyss to sleep by night. Belus came upon Babylon and ended the beasts' tyranny. He confronted Omorocca.' " There was an angry tone to Daniel's voice, reminding Jack of a dinner five years ago over sushi. Daniel had told a story then, similar to this, as his neglected tuna roll unraveled on the dish. A headache and his pain at Nem's fruitless four-thousand-year search for his mate had left Daniel without an appetite.

"What transpired?" Vallarin asked.

"He killed her." Daniel punctuated this by pressing a second panel with a sharp push. "This part isn't new. He tore her asunder, and with one half he created the sky, and with the other he created the earth. And with this Marduk added Belus to the power of his fifty names and ruled Babylon."

And for the finale, he hit a third panel. The door slid open with the sound of ancient gears grinding to life. Jack grimaced at the sheer unpleasantness of it, but kept his gun up in case glowing eyed ghoulies came rushing out.

Nothing unexpected happened.

"Good job," Jack said, nudging Daniel with an elbow as he passed by to check out the foyer. The air was heavy with age, smelling solidly of dust and decay. His nose twitched in reaction. There were tracks on the ground, disturbing the debris below, but the prints went all over the place. "Teal'c? Take point."

"Gladly, O'Neill." Staff weapon ready, the big guy led the way down the corridor.

Flashlights were immediately turned on, cutting into the darkness of the ziggurat's interior. Jack wasn't sure if the effect was psychological, but he found himself very aware of the load of bricks piled up over his head. A quick glance at the walls showed some were disintegrating, and Jack really hoped they'd find the Russians soon.

Carter didn't help as she examined one partially decomposed section. "This structure looks like it's just about ready to collapse."

"Well, this is baked mudbrick, not stone," Daniel said, rubbing a sample between his fingers. "This ziggurat might be as old as four thousand years, judging by the state of these bricks. I've seen worse on Earth, though."

"Marduk should've fired his architects for not using stone," Jack snarked. "I thought these things were supposed to last forever."

"Well, there was probably a village near the ziggurat back then. They stopped their upkeep of the structure when they left, for whatever reason that was." Daniel moved away from the wall and kept a trained eye out for nifty archaeological things. "Actually, I'd like to find their site and see if there's any indication why they left."

"Maybe later, like in winter."

They were coming up to a fork in the path. Flashing his light down each hallway, Jack couldn't see anything more than another stretch of darkness. There wasn't anything to mark one as unique from the other.

"Which way?" Vallarin asked.

"No clue. Daniel?" Jack looked at the only person with a clue.

"I have no idea."

Jack was about to go "eenie, meenie, miney, mo" when Zukhov spoke. "Colonel O'Neill, we should split up. You take your team down here," and he pointed to the right, "and we shall go to the left."

Jack pretended to seriously consider the suggestion. The idea made sense, and they'd explore the place in half the time. That in itself was enough reason, but Jack just didn't like the idea of the Russians going off on their own merry way. He shrugged. "All right, but Teal'c goes with you. He knows what kind of tricks the Goa'uld might play, and you guys don't. It's for your own protection."

Zukhov looked like he was sucking on a sour lemon. "Then perhaps you should take Lieutenant Marchenka. For your own protection, of course."

"Fine." Whatever would get the mission over sooner with little incident. Jack gave Teal'c a look, confident the big guy would baby-sit the Russians and otherwise keep an eye on them. "Move out."

They found the first body twenty minutes later. Jack's team had marked their path diligently, occasionally putting down glow sticks as they followed the twisting the path. After what had to be their ninth corner, they spotted a pair of booted feet stuck out ahead at the next corner. The sudden sight surprised Jack, and he hesitated a moment before bringing his P-90 up.

"Colonel ...?" Carter's warning was appreciated. She had her gun up, not moving before Jack gave an order.

"Identify yourself!" Jack called out as he slowly approached the boots.

Daniel and Marchenka echoed the question in Russian a moment later.

No reply.

"Jack, do you smell that?" By the sound of his voice, Daniel was wrinkling his nose. Jack couldn't afford to look away to check.

"Huh?" Jack took a moment to inhale deeply, and coughed at the sudden realization the place stank of old leather. The scent gave an odd contrast to the mustiness of the ziggurat, and it became stronger as he approached the boots. "Oh, crap."

The camo-clad body was desiccated; dried skin stretched tautly over bones and sunk around the eyes and mouth. The hair looked dry and matted, and the angle of the body was wrong. He lay slumped over, flesh and bone twisted in a way that testified to the violence of his death. His gun lay on the ground a few feet away, as though thrown or kicked away. The eyes were closed, and Jack gave thanks for small mercies.

"Bozemoi," Marchenka breathed.

Procedure dictated they claim the dogtags. Daniel pulled off his bag and pulled out a fresh set of latex gloves. "I think his neck is broken."

"Looks like it," Jack agreed. "So, who did it?"

"The bricks are damaged behind him," Carter said, shining her flashlight around the corpse. "It looks like he was thrown a short distance. He hit hard, and probably ended up concussed. That doesn't necessarily account for the neck, though."

"He was attacked," Marchenka stated, a frown on his face as he kept his distance.

"And three guesses what did it." Daniel knelt down and reached for the dog tags.

"A Goa'uld," Carter said.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Opening a sample bag, Daniel dropped the tags inside. He pulled off his gloves and sealed them with the tags. "Well, we have one Russian accounted for. Now what?"

Relaxing his P-90 for a moment, Jack reached for his radio. "Zukhov, this is O'Neill."

There was a delay of several seconds. Jack wasn't sure if it was due to the ziggurat or some kind of deliberate delay on Zukhov's part. "Yes, Colonel?"

"We've found one of Krinsky's men," he said. "He's dead, and we think a Goa'uld did it. Exercise extreme caution and keep an eye out for anything fishy."

"Understood," came the reply. "We are in a chamber, and have found a sarcophagus."

The hair at the back of Jack's neck prickled. "Hold your positions until we get there."

"We will investigate," said Zukhov as though Jack hadn't spoken.

"Negative! Whatever you do, don't open it," Jack yelled into the mic. When there wasn't a response, he knew exactly what was going on. "Teal'c? Answer me!"

There was a brief burst of static, and then they could faintly hear voices.

"You are disobeying a direct order," Teal'c's deep voice rumbled.

But Zukhov just gave a glib, "I trust Colonel O'Neill won't take it personally."

"Like hell I won't!" Jack whirled on his team, jerking his head in the direction they came. "Let's go!"

There was a shocked look on Marchenka's face Jack was just able to register before he took off down the hallway. Jack wondered what was going through his mind, but couldn't focus on the thought long enough as he dodged corners and tried to avoid tripping over debris. He could hear Daniel, Carter and Marchenka pounding along with him, and knew they were losing precious moisture as they went.

He was so going to shoot Zukhov.

Jack was caught off balance, nearly slamming into the crumbling wall as the ziggurat shook. Dust streamed from the ceiling, and the whole collection of bricks seemed to groan as the vibrations traveled through it. One part of the wall shook loose, spilling out and trying to bury Daniel and Marchenka with it. They both went down. Cursing, Jack doubled back, grabbing Daniel's elbow to pull him away. He was relieved to see Carter doing the same to Marchenka.

"What the hell is that?" Daniel gasped as they staggered along, his face pasty from dust.

"The ziggurat will fall!" Marchenka exclaimed. He was bleeding from a small gash on his right temple.

"Earthquake?" Carter asked.

"No, that was too damn coincidental," Jack said, while checking on Daniel. "You okay?"

When Daniel nodded in reply, Jack pulled him along and yelled for Carter to bring the Russian with her. The four staggered back to the fork where they split off from Zukhov, just in time to see the other four come bolting from the opposite direction. Vallarin was yelling at them in Russian, and Marchenka jerked away from Carter's grip to take off after his teammate.

Jack saw why: the door was closing really damn fast.

Feeling a little too much like Harrison Ford, Jack urged his team to speed up. They were nearing the door, but there was barely enough room for an adult to squeeze through. Vallarin and Marchenka made it past, though the latter had a tougher time. Teal'c was the next to reach it, but his bulk made it impossible to go through.

The trembling stopped, and the foyer was shrouded with silence.

"Well," Jack said. "This sucks."

As the adrenaline from their run left his system, Daniel quickly became aware of two things.

The first was that the door wasn't about to open any time soon. With Sam's help, he examined the inside of the entrance. The area was bare. There was no control panel or any form of technology on this side of the door. All they found was stone and more mudbrick. The door seemed to slide past the frame by several inches, so there was no way to pry the door open. Daniel hadn't been this frustrated since the first trip to Abydos when he realized the address home might no longer exist.

He wasn't thrilled with the concept of being eternally trapped inside the ziggurat, but at the moment, he had something more pressing to consider as he continued his investigation. When the wall collapsed on him, he'd pitched forward and landed hard with his arms outstretched. He'd been on flight instinct, not really registering anything other than Jack's help and the necessity to get out of the immediate area.

But now that he was calming down, Daniel quickly discovered there was something wrong with his right arm. A dull, general ache was becoming focused in the region of his elbow, and he was losing the mobility in the joint. The pain was nauseating, but he could focus past it ... for the moment.

Jack, in the meantime, was freaking out behind him. Flashlight waving like a beacon, he was trying to get the full story out of Zukhov's team. Only Teal'c was talking so far, and Daniel supposed that shouldn't be surprising. Contact couldn't be established with either Vallarin and Marchenka, either, so any hope to get their help in opening the door was futile.

"The sarcophagus remains unopened," Teal'c was saying. "We surveyed the room, and after our communication with you, O'Neill, Colonel Zukhov chose to investigate further. As he approached the sarcophagus, he stepped on a booby trap."

The confident way Teal'c used the term made Daniel smile despite his pain.

"Krinsky's team must have triggered the same mechanism," Sam said, looking over her shoulder at Jack.

"Well, it's an interesting trap." Daniel tapped the wall and tried to ignore the stab of pain in his elbow. "It doesn't really protect the sarcophagus, but it does lock you in with it."

Sam noticed his wince and raised her eyebrow in question. Not up to any attention brought his way just yet, Daniel ignored her. Besides, Jack was now exploding, aiming his anger right at the source of their current woe.

"I told you to hold your position!" he fumed, dark gaze shooting daggers at Zukhov who just shrugged.

"The mission required that we thoroughly explore the area," came the common sense answer.

"That's bullshit," Jack snapped. "I gave you an order. Daniel's the only one who can read the damned language. God knows what kind of warning you missed because you couldn't just wait."

"Someone would have set off the trap eventually," Zukhov replied, his voice not losing that matter-of-fact chill.

"Not necessarily," Jack shot back. "We're lucky no one died, damn it!"

"Where I come from, casualties are to be expected."

Daniel couldn't remember the last time Jack looked so flabbergasted. A few seconds passed before he could sputter out a reply. "Expected, maybe. Encouraged, no way in hell!"

Worry about a possible escalation clear on her face, Sam stepped forward. "Sirs, we still need to find a way out of here. There might be a reference elsewhere in the ziggurat."

"Good point, Major." Straightening and visibly trying to put the lid on his anger, Jack glared at Zukhov before speaking again. "We might as well head for the sarcophagus, seeing how the area's been deboobied for us."

That was an odd way of putting it, but Daniel didn't feel like commenting on the declension of booby. He was thirsty, and reached automatically for his canteen. The moment he moved, a streak of agony seized his arm-twisting up to his shoulder and snaking down to numb his hand. He couldn't stop the painful groan this time, and all eyes were on him in an instant.

"Daniel?" Sam was immediately at his side, hesitantly touching and afraid of causing more pain. Luckily she was on his left.

He spoke when he could finally unclench his jaw. "I'm fine."

Zukhov and Jack both snorted, giving a stereo effect.

"Where are you hurt?" Sam pried, her voice gentle as her hands started to zero in on his arm.

"I sort of bumped my elbow in the fall," he admitted.

"Damn funny bone," Jack sympathized. "Okay, let's head back, and then we'll look both at the sarc and Daniel's arm. Anybody else have something they want to share with the class?"

A collection of "no, sir"s and a "no, O'Neill" were heard. Jack nodded in satisfaction then chased everyone out of the foyer.

By the time they reached the crypt, Daniel was positive his elbow wouldn't move again. He had it crossed over his front, holding the arm protectively with the left. Sam immediately unclipped her gun and rummaged through the bag on Daniel's shoulders to get at his med kit. She handed him a couple of anti-inflammatories, which he gratefully swallowed with water from her canteen.

"It might just be a bruise, but we should probably immobilize it," she said.

"Once the Motrin kicks in, I'll be fine," he assured her. He hated the idea of being further encumbered than he already was. "I just need to get some motion back."

Tolineva was nearby, watching with empathetic dark eyes. "I have a sling I would be happy to loan."

"No, thank you." Daniel smiled at them, wishing they'd back off for a moment, but knowing very well they were both about to protest.

"Daniel, put it on," Jack cut in before either woman could get in a word. "I need your help over here."

With a reluctant sigh, Daniel let Sam maneuver his right arm into a comfortable spot mid-chest. She secured the cloth at the back of his neck, her fingers lingering a moment longer to brush against the nape of his neck. He gave her a smile of thanks before wandering over to Jack's side.

"What does that say?" Jack pointed to a blatant piece of graffiti near the sarcophagus. The machine lay at the center of the room, barely giving enough space for three people to stand together on either side. The room was definitely not used for audiences, and Daniel wondered where the throne room might be.

"Um ..." Peering over his glasses, Daniel found this piece easier to read than the door. The grammar was simple Akkadian, almost elementary in their structure. "Basically, it says, 'Sealed within for eternity, Marduk meets the fate of Amitmot. His fate is light compared to those he killed. Beware those who pry or they shall share the misery.' "

"That's deep," Jack said, shooting another glare at Zukhov. "What's the ... Amitmot thing?"

"Well, it sounds like a hybrid creature between Ammit, a beast that eats the souls of the unworthy dead in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, and Mot, who was actually the god of death in Mesopotamia." Daniel shuddered for a moment, a twitch of pain making his elbow spasm. "Anyway, it's signed by the Bemoroca."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"The sons of Omorocca," said Teal'c, interrupting the answer Daniel was just beginning to form. He was studying the lid of the sarcophagus, and as the attention focused on him, Teal'c ran a dark finger along the lid. There was something marring the golden surface-the inscriptions in cuneiform instead of hieroglyphs-that Daniel had never seen on the machine before. "Their intention was to entomb Marduk."

"Apparently. A little like Hathor's imprisonment in Mexico." If he stood still, Daniel knew his arm wouldn't hurt too much. He caught a look on Zukhov's face, and realized the Russian was more than a little confused. Daniel was half tempted to explain the story, but there wasn't enough time to go into detail. "But I don't recall this feature on her sarcophagus."

"If the intention was to seal the opening, it is broken," Zukhov added. "It is split along the middle."

"Probably from Korinsky's team," Jack said, holding up his P-90. "Maybe we should take a look to see if someone's home?"

"Indeed." Teal'c hoisted his staff weapon up, aiming at the center of the lid.

"Carter, do the honors?" Jack indicated the main control for the lid, and then stared at Daniel. He jerked his head to indicate the space behind him. "You, back here."

"I can use my gun left-handed," he protested.

"Daniel, now."

Reluctantly moving back and feeling like the green archaeologist of five years ago, Daniel withdrew and peered at the scene behind Jack. The two Russians had their weapons aimed at the sarcophagus, Sam waiting until everyone was ready. She pressed the large jeweled surface, then backed off, quickly holding up her gun.

With a rumble, the sarcophagus slowly opened. The interior became visible, but when the panels slid out halfway, the motion suddenly stopped. There was no movement within that Daniel could see, and he watched as Sam stepped forward again, peering inside.

"It's occupied!" she exclaimed.

"Zukhov, Tolineva, help her out," Jack ordered.

Together, the three strained to finish the job. Daniel wanted to help, but he simply stood there and hoped to get a glimpse of the occupant. He thought he could see a hint of fabric, but the lighting of the room from the flashlights made it hard to judge what exactly he was seeing.

Sam's movements stopped as she stared within. "Sir, it's not a Goa'uld. It's ... my God, it's Dr. Britsky."

"What?" Jack demanded.

"It is him, Colonel O'Neill," Zukhov confirmed, as Sam reached down to check the man's pulse. Daniel inched forward to get a better look. The older man's eyes were closed, his face more heavily bearded than in his picture, and he was decked out in dirty camouflage. As Sam touched Britsky's throat, the older archaeologist remained still. Zukhov spoke to him in Russian, asking him to wake up.

"He's alive, sir," Sam said, withdrawing. "It's like he's ... unconscious or something."

"The sarcophagus is operational," Teal'c said. "Perhaps he is merely sleeping."

"Well, what's he doing in there?" Daniel asked.

There was a sound from within the sarcophagus, a clicking and scratching from the bottom half. Suddenly Britsky sat up, eyes opened wide as he screamed. Something exploded from under the lid in a flurry of movement, aiming right for the women.

"Holy shit!" A moment later, Daniel was slammed against the wall, shielded by Jack's body as he and the others opened fire. Pain shot out from Daniel's arm, and he saw his vision grey out around the edges. He heard boots thumping on the stone floor as people ran around, and Britsky was still making noise, crying out in broken Russian phrases.

And over the cacophony, some kind of creature screeched horrifically in pain.

"There, sir!" Sam called.

A P-90 and one Russian gun opened fire. Daniel jumped as something landed with a sickening squish a few feet away.

"Daniel, stay where you are," Jack ordered, leaving him to take a few cautious steps forward. Daniel just nodded in reply, trying to stay upright. His vision was just clearing enough to make out the shape on the ground. Jack was poking it with the barrel of his P-90, finger poised to shoot at the slightest movement. "What the hell is that?"

"I think it's Amitmot," Daniel said, staring at the dead creature in fascination. It looked like a combination of several animals, reminding Daniel of the Seth animal in Egyptian myth. The body was furred and shaped like a ferret. Leather bat-like wings sprouted from its back, and its head lizard-like but furry like the body. A forked tongue escaped its mouth, the teeth sharp and decisively carnivorous. Blood seeped out of several holes in its body. "Is it dead?"

"Near as I can tell," Jack said, glancing up at Tolineva, who stared at him pale-faced. "Good shot, Lieutenant."

She gave him a wan smile. "Thank you, sir."

"How's the doc?" Kicking the creature's body so it impacted against the wall, Jack went back to where Sam was examining Britsky. The older man was quiet now, eyes staring blankly at the wall. Zhukov stood nearby, watching and ready to help if needed.

"Catatonic," she replied, stepping back after a moment. "I don't see any obvious causes as-"

"The creature was in there with him," Zhukov interrupted. "That is reason enough."

"Why would it be in there?" Tolineva asked. "I understood sarcophagi to be healing machines."

"They are," Jack said.

"Perhaps Dr. Jackson can use it to help his arm," she suggested, looking from Jack to Daniel with a helpful and eager look on her face.

But Daniel shuddered, the vibration making his arm ache. "No, thank you."

Tolineva looked perplexed, but Sam cut off the next question. She was peering down the sarcophagus past Britsky's legs. "Sarcophagi are also occasionally used to keep the Goa'uld in stasis if necessary. What I see here look like claw marks on the interior. If I'm understanding the message left behind, Marduk was sealed inside with that creature, then once Korinky's team opened the sarcophagus, Dr. Britsky was put in with the thing."

"Why?" Zukhov asked. "That seems so barbaric."

"Oh, God." Daniel kept his back to the wall, feeling nauseated. "It's right out of mythology, like Prometheus and the eagle eating his liver. The sarcophagus revives and repairs the human body, and probably other living non-human entities. Amitmot eats from Marduk's body until it's full, then the sarcophagus goes through its repair cycle, and when the beast is hungry again ..."

"Eew," Jack said flatly, his face screwed up. "That's gotta be the worst way to go."

"Bozemoi," Tolineva murmured.

"Yeah, you could say that," Daniel agreed.

"Explains the catatonic condition," Jack said, looking at the older archaeologist with pity. He shook his head and looked to Teal'c. "Big guy, help him out. We'll get him comfortable until we can figure out how to get out of here."

Teal'c nodded, handing his staff weapon to Daniel before he went to lift Britsky out of the sarcophagus. Britsky was unresponsive now, arms and legs manipulated easily as Teal'c lowered him to his feet. Tolineva quickly went over, putting an arm around her countryman's waist to keep him upright.

"The entrance is blocked," Zukhov said, staring at Jack. "How are we going to leave? You will risk trying C4?"

"And bury ourselves under a ton of ziggurat?" Jack shook his head. "No way. There's got to be another exit. Daniel?"

"Yeah?" Seeing that Teal'c was ready to take the staff back, Daniel gladly did so before leaning back against the wall. He fingered his elbow, wincing at the tenderness underneath the sling and jacket.

"I don't know how ziggurats are different from the Egyptian stuff, but where would Marduk's back exit be? You know, like with Seth and all that?" Jack eyed him, waiting as Daniel thought it over. "I'm thinking tunnels, secret passageways, transport rings ..."

"I'm not sure where it might be here," Daniel admitted. His mind was flashing back to the diagrams he'd studied before they embarked on this mission, placing the maps drawn by Wooley and others in the context of alien technology. "Ziggurats differ from pyramids in that they're not burial places for the kings. They're temples, and the main shrine is located on the top of the structure."

"How do we get there?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea. Probably by going outside, unfortunately."

"Great. Any other ideas?"

"There might be internal passageways, too."

"The corridor by this crypt continues for a great length," Teal'c said. "Perhaps if we were to continue our exploration?"

"Works for me." Jack turned to Zukhov and Tolineva. "One of you should stay with the doc here. He might respond better to someone who can speak his language, but I honestly don't think he'll be a problem."

"I will stay," Tolineva volunteered, still supporting Britsky with one arm. "Do you believe Marduk is still in the ziggurat, Colonel O'Neill?"

"I think it's a possibility we need to consider," Jack said. "We don't know everything about what these Bemoraca or whatever did once they locked Marduk in the sarc. Maybe they knew about a back entrance and shut it down, or maybe it's still there and Marduk's long gone."

"I understand," she replied.

"Okay. We'll come back and get you once we have something. Radio us if anything at all happens, understood?"

"Da, Colonel."

Jack smiled faintly. "Right."

Zukhov and Sam helped Tolineva get Britsky comfortable. Daniel watched for a moment, glad his own pain was beginning to retreat thanks to the Motrin. He felt a little faint on his feet, but he needed to ignore his condition. His skills were needed if they wanted to escape, and that wouldn't happen if he was falling over his feet. Teal'c was lingering, eyeing him carefully, and his proximity made Daniel feel irritable.

"Daniel Jackson, are you still in pain?" the Jaffa asked.

"I'm fine."

"As you often insist when you are not," Teal'c shot back.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Just don't slam me into another wall, and I'll stay fine."

"I will endeavor not to do so."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome." And yet, Teal'c didn't move.

Sighing, Daniel pushed away from the wall and was relieved he wasn't wavering. He was already tired of his hovering teammates, but knew they were doing what was necessary to help. Daniel hated feeling helpless, and being unable to reach his gun, or even firing it, was definitely on his mind. A Beretta didn't have as much recoil as a P-90, but any motion at all would hurt like a bugger. Daniel toyed with the fabric of his sling, then turned to face Teal'c.

"Do you mind if I borrow your zat?" he asked.

One eyebrow lifted slightly, then Teal'c handed over the folded weapon. "I am not convinced Marduk remains in this edifice, Daniel Jackson."

"If he's free, he'll want to get out of here." Daniel tucked the zat into his jacket pocket and smiled faintly. "I'll be happy if that's the case."

"Ditto for me," Jack piped up, thumbing at the door. "Let's get this field trip on the road, kids!"

Checking one last time on Tolineva and her charge, Daniel followed Jack's lead out into the corridor. They walked in single-file, Teal'c taking point and Jack watching their shestye. The path they followed led them to several small storage rooms, mostly filled with dusty, broken amphora. Daniel was reminded of Osiris' temple in Egypt, with all its technological features secreted away from primitive eyes. If there was anything more advanced than ashlar and mudbrick, so far they weren't seeing it.

They'd been walking for five minutes, stepping over detritus littering the ground, when the hall widened into a passage nearly two times its previous size. As they rounded a corner, they found themselves before a closed set of large wooden doors. Traces of color could still be seen on its surface, but the images themselves were damaged. Scratches and dents gouged the once ornate surface.

"Hall?" Jack asked, glancing at Daniel.

"I'd say so."

The handle for one door was loose, its fastening about to fall off. Teal'c grasped it carefully, and pushed. The hinges creaked, sounding dry and loud in the still air. The room itself was dark, until the door was completely open. With a hesitant flicker, panels of electrical light activated. Daniel needed to shield his eyes at the sudden brilliance, and he squinted, waiting until he could see clearly again.

Then he wasn't sure he did want to see.

The pillared room was littered with bodies. Most were in the same leathery condition as the Russian they found earlier, but the flesh of some had disintegrated to powder. Daniel looked around, stunned, counting the skulls he could spot to get an idea how many individuals were present. He gave up after thirty. Now and again, the light would glint off the frontal plates of the skulls belonging to Jaffa, their golden tattoos dulled over time.

"What the hell is this?" Jack demanded.

Sam ventured into the room by a few steps, her P-90 at ready. "It's like ... a charnel house."

"Or a mass grave," Zukhov said, following her in.

Most of the bodies were slumped, their necks snapped or body parts caved in from trauma. Daniel grimaced as he slowly walked in, finally looking away from the carnage to the walls they were slumped against. The walls were made of smooth stone, with cuneiform inscribed around images of striding, bearded figures in a distinctive Babylonian style. On one side of the room, the figures were walking toward the right, and on the other, toward the left. Daniel's eyes followed their progression and found an enormous scene chiseled into the wall.

At the center a massive image of a man, who could only be Marduk, flanked by lions whose eyes had a Goa'uld-like glow. They faced a cowered figure, Marduk's arm upraised-a smiting blow frozen moments before landing. Daniel's eyes were drawn to the vanquished being at Marduk's feet, at the scales and features he remembered with Nem only on a smaller size.

"It's Omorocca," he said, tracing her image reverently. "Marduk was celebrating her-"

A pot was hurled from across the room, shattering explosively against the center of Omorocca's image. Daniel jerked back, good arm shielding his face against the sherds. He whipped his head in the direction the pottery came just as Jack lunged for him, dragging him behind a pillar as another pot flew to smash next to the first.

"Looks like someone's home after all," Jack muttered, glancing back to check the scene. "You okay?"

Daniel's cheek stung, but he felt relatively intact, all things considered. His arm was a continual throb, but at least his latest tumble hadn't hurt too much. "Where did that-"

"Who dares speak that name?!" The voice howled the words like a lament, echoing dully in the chamber. Daniel shifted his sprawl so he had a better look at the room. There was a small sacristy tucked behind a column, blocked from view from the entrance.

"What, Omorroca?" Jack tossed back.

This time, an urn was pitched, hitting the far wall. "Do not speak that name!"

Jack moved, protected by the pillar, until he had enough room to take aim at the sacristy. "You're surrounded. Come out slowly where we can see you."

The sound of shuffling footsteps could be heard, and a moment later, a figure emerged from the shades. The glowing eyes were the only clue this creature was Marduk. He had unkempt long hair, a knotted dark beard, tattered remains of rich clothes, and a body so emaciated only the sheer alien willpower of a symbiote could keep it upright.

The eyes, once they returned to the host's normal brown, glittered darkly in the light. Daniel held his position, protected by the pillar and pointedly next to Jack as the disturbing eyes fell on him.

"You are the one who uttered her name," Marduk accused, taking a step forward. The light caught the ribbon device curled around his thin, dirty wrist. "You will be the first one to die."

"Stay where you are, snake boy," Jack warned, the Goa'uld lined up for an easy shot.

But Marduk ignored him and took another step. His lips curved to form an eerie smile. "You are the same as those who freed me from my captivity."

"You obviously repaid them kindly for their assistance," Zukhov sneered.

"They were useless!" Marduk flung out one hand, arcing over to point out the bodies of the remaining Russians. They were crumpled and desiccated, their uniforms obscured by dust and debris. "They provided amusement for a time, but they could not help me."

"What seems to be the problem?" Jack asked.

"But they did not know Omorocca," Marduk continued, focusing only on Daniel. "Not like you."

"They weren't Bemoroca," Daniel replied. "I am."

"Daniel ..." Jack hissed.

He ignored the warning. "And when I learned these men may have disturbed your imprisonment, I came here to stop you."

"Bemoroca!" Marduk spat, eyes flashing. "I should have killed them all like Sekhmet did and feasted on their blood! Your efforts are useless, Bemoroca. You cannot defeat the powers of Ra! I will be avenged!"

"Oh, I wouldn't't bet on that," Jack said, suddenly game. "And as for Ra, we took care of him. Twice, actually."

"Lies!" Marduk shouted, gathering his robes close to himself.

"You see my nose growing?" Jack demanded. "We got Ra and Hathor, too."

Daniel chimed in. "And Apophis."

"Yeah." Jack began to count the names off with his fingers. "Sokar, Cronos ..."

"And Seth."

"Oh, yeah, him, too. Anyway," Jack paused to give Marduk a smile that was more teeth than anything else, "the point is that yelling threats about Ra and all that really don't hold much water with us."

Marduk's face twitched, gaze darting around the room to fix on Teal'c and the golden emblem on his forehead. The Goa'uld trembled, whether from a reaction to his physical condition or an emotion, Daniel wasn't ready to guess. Marduk retreated a few steps, his feet knocking against some of the bones littering the floor. He scuffled back toward the sacristy and then turned back again.

"I cannot leave," he said, and his voice seemed to be quiet. The duality of his voice sounded less, as though the symbiote no longer had the extra energy to maintain that effect. "The Bemoroca have locked me in a tomb and discarded the key. Your friends were trapped, just as you are now."

"We know there's a second exit," Sam said.

"The Bemoroca also knew of it." He offered her a weak smile, a faint coyness in the expression. "But I won't tell you until you help me."

"We have four guns to your ribbon device," Jack pointed out. "You can't force us to do anything."

"I do not need to force you," Marduk replied. "The actions of your brothers have condemned you. I simply will not tell you. You may search, but you will perish before you succeed. When that occurs, I will laugh and rejoice over your corpses."

Daniel decided to ignore the gleeful twinkling in those dark eyes. "We can work together. Show us the way out of here, and we'll get it operating again. Obviously you need our help."

Marduk sneered. "I do not need your help!"

"Yeah, tell me another one." Jack looked twitchy, and Daniel couldn't blame him. Marduk had somehow fared better in the sarcophagus than Britsky, if only by the grace of the symbiote's natural healing abilities, but how sane was he? Daniel was already regretting the self-identification as Bemoroca, and Jack had to be well aware of how carefully they needed to progress. "If you don't need our help, I'll just shoot you. Sound fair?"

"No!" One bone-thin hand pointed back to the sacristy, trembling. "The controls for the rings are there. Go, if you wish."

Sam straightened up at his words, eager to head into the room. She was watching Jack, ready for him to give the word to explore. Jack just scowled at Marduk. "See, we don't trust Goa'uld."

Marduk's immediate reaction was to tear off his ribbon device, tossing it haphazardly to the side of the room. It landed amid a pile of bones, a small cloud of dust drifting into the dry air. Daniel sneezed, and Marduk smiled thinly. "Will this make you more agreeable?"

His P-90's aim not moving away from Marduk's chest, Jack finally nodded. "Teal'c, go with Carter."

As she slipped by Marduk, the Goa'uld's eyes widened. He stared after her suspiciously, recognizing the vibe-or whatever it was-left by the protein marker in Sam's bloodstream. Daniel was ready for more questions, about who they were and who Sam really was. The questions never came. Marduk simply turned his head to stare at Daniel with glinting malice.

A few seconds passed, and no one in the outer chamber moved. Jack finally tossed out an impatient, "Carter?"

"I'm not exactly sure what I'm seeing, sir. I think you'd better take a look at this."

Daniel wandered to the door, looking into the small room. The walls here were damaged-deep pits and gouges raked in the brick-and broken pottery littered the floor. Two unbroken samples were situated near Teal'c, and thankfully out of Marduk's reach. Sam had her back to them, staring at a recessed wall of Goa'uld machinery, the crystals and golden panels dulled with dust. The doors designed to hide it from view were torn off and tossed aside. Jammed onto the surface was a large object, its design unlike most Goa'uld weaponry Daniel could recall seeing. It appeared to be a large jewel set into an inscribed center, like a more ornate healing device.

"What exactly is this?" Jack demanded.

"Well, this device, for lack of a better word," Sam began, turning to face them, "is blocking access to the controls. I tried touching one panel, but it doesn't seem to be reacting."

"Does it come off?"

"I wouldn't want to risk the chance of shock," she replied. "I don't know what it's doing to the circuits and if it might short on me."

"Only a human may touch it safely," Marduk warned, holding his robes tightly to him as he lingered away from the door. "The Eye is now closed, but it can reopen if asked."

"That's the Eye of Tiamat?" Jack asked.

"Apparently," Daniel said.

"Not quite what I was expecting."

"Which was?"

"Maybe something a bit more like an eye ..." Jack shook his head, then turned quickly on the Goa'uld, who had inched forward a few steps. "Hey, snake boy, back up a bit!"

Marduk's eyes glowed again, but this time the light didn't seem to be as intense.

"Teal'c, see if you can knock it off with your staff," Sam suggested in the meantime, backing away from the wall.

Reversing the weapon so the butt end faced up, Teal'c first nudged the Eye. The staff's blunt end clinked against the object, but no sparks or anything detrimental appeared. Teal'c took a step back, then swung. A clang echoed through the chamber, but the device remained where it was on the wall. The rim of it was dented, along with previous knicks and scratches.

"Force cannot work!" Marduk called. Daniel glanced back to see the Goa'uld under the double guard of both Jack and Zukhov. "Your friends tried their weapons to no avail. It requires a human touch. You, woman, cannot remove the Eye from its position. You are one as I."

Sam shook her head. "I'm a former host."

"No matter. You are as useless as the Jaffa." His gaze roamed among the remaining men, landing first on Daniel. "The Bemoroca should repair the damage, but he is broken. Two hands are needed."

"What is required?" Zukhov asked.

Marduk's smile widened. "You must remove it from the wall."

"Go for it," Jack told Zukhov, moments before he ushered the Goa'uld back out to the main chamber. Daniel stepped aside, avoiding eye contact with Marduk as he passed by.

Zukhov moved into the room, hesitating a moment as he looked at the scene. Sam backed up to give him room, moving off just to the side so she could swoop in once the Eye was removed. He reached one hand up to stroke the device's surface, then circled around its edge before slipping underneath. His other hand came up to grip the other side, giving it a test tug.

"Well?" Sam asked.

"It is sealed somehow to the wall," Zukhov said. "Perhaps a magnet or it was welded."

"Try using more force," she suggested.

He nodded, planting his feet widely apart and putting his energy into the try. His arms strained as he pulled, his teeth showing in a grimace. "It is held fast."

"Try something else," Sam said.

"Such as?"

"Maybe twist it this time?"

They worked together for a good ten minutes. Daniel watched, wishing he could help out more than just by throwing out half-hearted ideas now and again. His arm was hurting again, and he really wished there was a clue written somewhere on the walls. That was asking for too much, apparently. The damaged walls appeared to have never had writing, and the Bemoroca had left no clues on how to solve the puzzle.

"Sir, I don't see how this can be removed without more specialized equipment," Sam finally announced, speaking loud enough so her voice could carry to the other room. "Working only by hand is impossible."

"You are not trying hard enough!" Marduk cried desperately, and Daniel glanced back in time to see him rushing forward.

Jack was ready to shoot. "You had your warning!"

"It must open!" The next thing Daniel knew, the Goa'uld's smaller body had slammed him into the wall. A scrawny arm was tightened around his neck, and he was pulled backward so his bulk covered Marduk's form. His air was almost cut off, eliminating any attempt to fight as Daniel's world darkened around the edges. "Open the Eye or I will kill the Bemoroca!"

"Let go of him!" Jack demanded, slowly approaching. Through watery eyes, Daniel could see him trying to find a clear shot, but he had a good idea that wasn't happening.

"Work!" Marduk screamed. Fingers groped Daniel's elbow, digging into the swollen tissue. Daniel let out a howl, his blackened vision taking on a red tinge as he twisted in the Goa'uld's unrelenting grasp. "I command this!"

"Let go of him first!" Jack shouted back.

Marduk wasn't going to let go. Daniel wheezed in a teary breath of air, knowing he couldn't fight against the grip on his neck. Even malnourished and half dead, the Goa'uld's strength was inhuman. He let his good hand drop, reaching down and reaching into his pocket. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. He had no idea if Marduk noticed his movement, and he hoped Marduk's attention was fixed on Jack.

Daniel's fingers grasped the zat gun, and he squeezed the trigger. The electrical current ripped through him, making him convulse and causing Marduk's grasp to weaken. Daniel felt himself making a headlong tumble for the floor. As he landed in a crumpled heap, his arm a flaring mass of agony and his body a bundle of twitching nerves, he heard a gun firing. A body hit the ground a moment later.

And then, Daniel passed out.

Jack's heart was in his throat as he realized he didn't have a clear shot.

Marduk had his scrawny arms around Daniel, one wrapped tighter than a noose around his neck, and another twisting its fingers into Daniel's elbow. The sound escaping Daniel's mouth was gargled and harsh, but no matter what angle Jack took, Daniel's body blocked the way. Possibilities went through Jack's mind on how to get the situation under control, hopefully with one still living archaeologist at the end of it. He could shoot through Daniel, either a leg or an arm, and take Marduk down-hopefully without damaging Daniel severely. But that was a risk he'd have to take. A few more moments and Daniel would be well on his way to asphyxiation.

Gritting his teeth after yelling one more warning, Jack shifted his aim for Daniel's side, confident the bullet would go through him and into the Goa'uld-and even then he couldn't be guaranteed the plan would work. But he was running out of time.

"Shoot!" Zukhov shouted from the doorway. "You have no choice!"

The accent triggered a memory to flash quickly before his eyes: a Russian holding a team mate hostage just like this back in the 80s when a mission went FUBAR. The Russian back then had won, firing a slug into his buddy's head when Jack had hesitated. It was one loss of many that had haunted Jack, and this time, he would not let the same thing happen.

His finger poised on the trigger, and he counted to three. On two, an arc of blue current darted out to encircle Daniel and Marduk. Their bodies jerked, and Marduk's arms slackened their grip around Daniel's body. Daniel slipped down and landed on the floor with a jarring groan. Jack immediately snapped out of his surprise to shoot the damn Goa'uld.

He stepped forward, watching Marduk carefully to see if the snake would try to jump from the body. Then again, maybe it just didn't have the energy. Marduk was gasping, hands going to clutch the holes in his chest, and Daniel in the meantime was a foot away, lying still but intact by all appearances.

"I ... must help you," the Goa'uld gasped, eyes drifting shut for a moment. The inner light glowed for a second, but nowhere near its previous brilliance. The snake was hanging on to life, and obviously not succeeding.

"Teal'c?" Jack waited until the big guy was next to him, and gestured to Marduk. "Take him back into the room and see if he can tell you anything else. If he's bluffing or lying, shoot him."

"With pleasure, O'Neill."

Marduk squawked, a limp bundle of sickly limbs as Teal'c hauled him up and away from the wall. Glad to be rid of the smelly snake, Jack immediately crouched next to Daniel and did a quick exam. His pulse was beating more rapidly than normal, and Jack figured the unconsciousness was due to being knocked out by a combination of pain, the zat, and maybe the lack of air. Jack arranged his friend's body to be a bit more comfortable, then checked the sling to see how the arm was doing. The heat coming from the jacket was intense, telling Jack the swelling was getting worse. Wincing, Jack hoped Daniel would remain unconscious until they were safely out of the ziggurat. He rolled the archaeologist onto his left side, keeping a hand on his throat to monitor the pulse.

"Carter?" he called. "Tell me you have that Eye figured out now!"

An edge of panic was beginning to overcome her. Sam took a deep breath and fought the urge to yell. The Eye would not move, and unless she could come up with another method to get it off the controls for the rings, they would be stuck. She really didn't need the colonel pestering her. What options were left? She didn't dare touch the Eye herself, and while Zukhov had helped as best he could, no progress was made.

"We're working on it, sir," she called back to the main room, eyes focused on the wall. She was looking at alien technology, so she'd have to consider something outside her normal theories. Her experience-even combined with Jolinar's Tok'ra memories-wasn't supplying the appropriate insights into what was jamming the Eye in place. Was it just stuck or jammed directly into the Goa'uld circuitry? And honestly, she was convinced that even if the removed the Eye, the ring technology would be damaged.

"Some progress might be nice!" Colonel O'Neill shot back. She realized a moment later his voice was more concerned than before. "Daniel's down."

Oh, God. She wanted to punch the wall.

"I just don't see how the Bemoroca did this and expected it to be reversed," she replied.

There was silence from the other room as Zukhov rejoined her. He regarded the wall with her for a moment then suggested, "Perhaps we will need the C4 after all, now that one of your own is injured."

She didn't want to reply, and Teal'c saved her from having to. He came in with Marduk, dragging him into the room, blood oozing from his chest. The Goa'uld was offering token resistance that Teal'c easily ignored. Marduk grinned dementedly at her and Zukhov, eyes drifting away from them to the wall.

"You are failing, too," he moaned, the sound at odds with his expression.

She didn't want the histrionics. "Do you know how this works?"

"It is not meant to work," Marduk told her solemnly. He tried to pull away from Teal'c's grip but lacked the immediate strength. "You failed, and you are doomed. Your friend the Bemoroca has trapped you here, and you should see to his death for this betrayal! I would kill him for this! If I had seen the same poison among my own Jaffa, I wouldn't be bleeding on my floor."

Sam ignored the lament, going up close to examine the Eye again. She needed a new insight into the problem, and she wished the proximity would give it. "The Bemoroca obviously put this in to prevent your escape, like a backup in case you managed to leave the sarcophagus. And anyone with a Goa'uld symbiote can't touch this."

"Yet humans have no effect on it," Zukhov added.

"They must!" Marduk protested, twisting feebly in Teal'c's grasp.

"I don't see how." Sam stared and wondered what would happen if she touched the Eye. She was at the point where any possibilities, no matter how unlikely or dangerous, were better than C4 destabilizing the entire structure. What would Daniel do? Ask an obvious question. "What happens if a Goa'uld touches it?"

Marduk's concentration was weakening, and he babbled in reply. "Bad ... very bad ... Bad, bad, bad ..."

Sam glanced at Teal'c, who inclined his head just a bit. She knew that as his version of a shrug. She smiled, then reached out to brush her fingertips against the Eye. The surface warmed as long as she made contact, glowing slightly.

"It reacts," Zukhov breathed, frowning. "But you are-"

"Later." Jolinar's story was even longer than Nem's, and Sam felt even less inclined to discuss it.

She put her hand back on the Eye, and watched to see what would happen next. The jewel grew bright again, then dimmed several moments later to a barely visible glow.

"It's like it scanned me," she said.

"And found you unsatisfactory," Teal'c replied.

"Its purpose is to keep Marduk from the controls," Zukhov said, frowning. "What if it does this in more than one way?"

"And what would happen if it scanned Marduk?" Encouraged by this thought, Sam beckoned to Teal'c. Marduk nearly hung from Teal'c's grip as he was brought forward, and he was unresisting as Teal'c held his hand up to the Eye. The jewel grew bright again, then flared to a fiery brilliance.

Marduk jerked, eyes huge as he used the last vestiges of his strength to tear himself away. His hand held fast.

"No!" he cried.

Light flared out from the Eye, enveloping Marduk in a prism of energy. A second later, it burst into tiny shards of light that dispersed like dust.

Marduk was gone, and the Eye fell to the floor.

"Holy Hannah," Sam breathed, kneeling down to touch the Eye. "Colonel O'Neill!"

He appeared a moment later, jaw dropping open at their sudden progress and Marduk's absence. He looked around the room, twice. "Whoa. Okay, what was that?"

"Marduk's demise was required to release the Eye," Teal'c said.

"Oh. Sort of like the idea with Thor's Hammer?"

Sam had to smile. "Yes, sir. It's an idea very similar to that."

"A hammer?" Zukhov looked between the members of SG-1 with a confused frown. "One day, you will tell me these stories?"

The colonel looked at him, then shrugged. "Sure, I'm game."

"Good. Now, I am anxious to leave this place. Is it now possible?"

Pocketing the Eye in her jacket, Sam scrambled to her feet to go check the wall. She found the appropriate panel easily, activating the right control. The rings trembled as the energy built up for the first time in millennia, their outline becoming clear through the dirt and debris on the floor.

"Oh, I'd say that's a positive sign," the colonel said. "Okay, Zukhov, I want you and Teal'c to go back to get Tolineva and Britsky. Teal'c knows the ring stuff like the back of his hand, so you're set. Carter and I will head out first with Daniel, and we'll order a stretcher for Britsky when you guys show up."

Zukhov considered it, eyebrows raising slightly. "I have no objections."

"You'd better not." The two men exchanged a grin before they parted ways.

Keeping a tight grip around Daniel's waist, Jack waited for Carter to activate the rings. Daniel was semi-conscious now, biting his lip against the pain and keeping quiet. Jack had quickly summarized events for him, and Daniel now had that look he wore whenever considering things. For the moment, Jack wanted to let him be.

"Don't forget to click your heels three times, Dorothy," Jack instructed, grinning when Carter glanced back to glare good-naturedly.

"You make a funny looking Glinda, sir," she shot back as she took up position next to them. Two seconds later, the rings shot up from their stationary position, and they were suddenly outside. Brilliant light and arid, fresh air overwhelmed them.

"Colonel O'Neill!" Major Griff rushed over to them, a group of soldiers on his heels. "Major Carter, Doctor Jackson! Where did you come from?"

They were ten feet away from the Stargate, facing the ziggurat across a ruined courtyard. A small collection of the tents were near the ziggurat, and at the front of the building, there was a large machine and a group of men working at removing the bricks. Impressed, Jack looked back and spotted Marchenko and Vallarin among the crowd. Their faces were streaked with dust, Marchenko had a butterfly bandage on his forehead, but the officers seemed otherwise intact. They looked at Jack anxiously.

"You two okay?" he demanded.

"Da," Vallarin replied. "When we realized you were trapped, we contacted your General Hammond for help."

"We've had a team of engineers trying to dig out the front entrance," Griff added. "They'll be glad to stop. The heat's a bitch on this planet!"

Still squinting in the sunshine, Jack had to laugh. "You think?"

"Where are Colonel Zukhov and Lieutenant Toleneva?" Marchenko asked.

"They're on their way out with Teal'c. Griff, you stay here until they show up. I'll have a stretcher sent over here. They'll need it. I'll order everyone to start breaking camp." Jack eyed his team for a moment. In the sunlight, Carter looked tired and Daniel was pale beneath the grime coating his face. "We've got to get Daniel back to the SGC."

"Yes, sir." Griff threw him a salute before taking a seat on a fallen column.

Five minutes later, they were in the wonderfully cool embarkation room. Hammond and a medical team were waiting at the foot of the ramp, and Daniel was quickly whisked off once the medics got their hands on him. Jack watched them go, then gave Hammond a tired smile.

"This is one mission I never want to repeat," he said.

Hammond looked worried. "What happened, Colonel? Where's Teal'c and Colonel Zukhov's team?"

Jack briefly summarized the mission, knowing he'd go into deeper detail later at the debrief. "We located Dr. Britsky, but he's ... well, not doing too well. Daniel collected the dogtags from the other three. I'll get them from him. Permission to go have a frigid shower and a tall glass of iced tea, sir."

"Granted," Hammond said, a smile touching his lips. "And have one for me. I'm hot just looking at you."

"An eye for an eye," Daniel said.

"Huh?" Jack stared at him over the mouth of his iced tea bottle.

Letting out a sigh, Daniel leaned back against the infirmary bed. His right arm was plastered and supported against his chest. X-rays had shown a cracked humerus just above the joint, and as a result, SG-1 would be on stand down until Daniel was fully healed. In the meantime, he was nicely doped and sponged relatively clean.

"I was just thinking about how the Bemoroca planned to keep Marduk in the ziggurat," Daniel said a moment later, thinking of a good way to put his sentence so it made sense to him. He shifted a bit to get comfortable. "It's right out of the old Babylonian law codes. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. The Bemoroca weren't going to be satisfied until Omorocca was avenged by Belus' death."

Jack nodded, considering the logic as he took another gulp of tea. "Better late than never, I always say."

"What happened to the Eye?"

"Carter's got it under analysis in her lab. She wants to figure out how it could stick to the wall like that. That was a pretty neat trick."

"Oh." Daniel toyed with the fringe of his sling for a moment. "We should return the Eye to Nem."

"How come?"

"What do you mean, how come? It used to belong to Omorocca." Daniel looked at him, where he was sitting backward in the chair he'd stolen from Janet Fraiser's office. "He should have it."

Jack didn't answer, draining the last of his tea and setting the bottle down on the nearest table. "It's a good idea."

"We can head back to Oannes when I'm cleared for gate travel," Daniel said, closing his eyes. Since losing Sha're for a second time, he'd felt closer in spirit to Nem's quest over the millennia for his mate. After the funeral, Kasuf had given him a box of Sha're's things, and the gesture had meant so much to Daniel at the time. He hoped giving Nem the Eye would give him that same measure of comfort. "Sam can study it until then."

"Sure. I'll bring it up with Hammond next time I see him." Setting the bottle down, Jack leaned forward and grinned. "You gonna let me sign your cast?"

Daniel stared at him. "No."

"Please?"

"I know you. You'll put something rude on it."

"Would not."

"Would, too."

"Hey, next broken bone I get, you can put whatever you want on my cast." Jack grinned. "See, I trust you. This should be a two-way deal."

Daniel eyed him suspiciously. "Only if you promise to put something polite on it."

"It's a deal," Jack agreed, holding up a salute that looked more like a Vulcan salute than the Boy Scouts.

"Okay ..."

"Yes!" Pulling a marker from his pocket, Jack went to manoeuvre Daniel's arm carefully from its sling. He uncapped the marker with a flourish and a grin. "You'll like it, I promise."

"Are we interrupting something?" Carter teased.

Jack swivelled the chair toward the door to see her and Teal'c leading the Russian team into the infirmary. He hadn't seen Zukhov's team since the debriefing two hours ago, when they'd gone into a private meeting with a General Chekov, who'd flown in from Moscow to escort them and Britsky home. The archaeologist had been briefly in the infirmary before Russian medics came to bundle him off.

"No, not interrupting," Jack said. "What's up?"

"We are departing shortly for Moscow," Zukhov said. "We wished to say farewell for the moment."

"Schastleevogo puttee," Daniel said.

Jack stared at him.

"Safe trip," Daniel offered.

"Ah, ditto."

"Colonel, I realize we may have started out the mission with differences, but I am pleased we were able to conclude the mission on good terms." Zukhov held his hand out for a few moments, a pleasant smile on his face. "I look forward to the possibility of continued cooperation with the SGC."

Jack look at the offered hand for several moments before he finally shook it. "I'm open to that."

"I am pleased," Zukhov beamed, withdrawing his hand a moment later. "You are not bad for an American, O'Neill."

A surprised look crossed Jack's face, then he smiled wryly. "And you're not bad for a Russian."

"Colonel Zukhov?" An airman appeared in the doorway, looking officious. "I'm to escort your team back to General Chekov."

"We will be right there," Zukhov told him. He turned back to SG-1 and saluted. His team followed his example, and Jack gave a half-hearted one in return. "Next time, I hope to hear these stories of yours."

"Over vodka and caviar," Jack promised. "And maybe some beer and pizza, too."

"I have heard things about American cuisine," Zukhov replied. "I will bring the caviar."

A few more goodbyes were said, then the Russians filed out of the room. Daniel watched them go, then looked at Jack. "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe."

"Will we be working with the Russians again, sir?" Sam asked.

Uncapping his almost forgotten marker again, Jack shrugged and went back to drawing on Daniel's cast. "Maybe. Hold still a moment, Daniel ..."

Six weeks later ...

The moment Daniel stepped onto Oannes, his senses were overwhelmed by the heat, humidity and the clashing scents of sulphur and seaweed. The combination made his nose twitch, evoking a strong moment of déjà vu. He glanced at his friends' faces, and saw varying expressions of dread and anger coloring their faces as they looked around the beach. Teal'c frowned and gripped his staff weapon a little too close to his body; Sam was tense, poised like she was ready to run at the first hint of danger; and Jack stared at one of the many open vents scattered along the beach, transfixed with a blank look on his face so obviously forced.

"Guys?" Daniel waited until all of their gazes were focused on him. "You okay?"

Teal'c's features softened as he inclined his head. "I am, Daniel Jackson."

"Yeah, thanks for asking," Sam said, her smile too tight to be convincing.

"Can we just get this over with?" Jack demanded plaintively.

"Soon." Daniel patted his pocket, knowing he'd done so five times since dressing for the excursion, but he felt the need to reassure himself the Eye was still there. "Just ... before we go any further, I want to say thank you for coming back here with me."

They tried to look ... eager, but even calling that look conciliatory was stretching it. If Daniel hadn't needed their company, according to a stern Janet Fraiser when Daniel's cast was removed, he knew they'd be elsewhere. They understood Daniel's motivation for returning, and on some level, why Nem had kidnapped him five years ago. But they definitely weren't thrilled.

During moments like these, Daniel understood how loyal his friends were.

They approached the water, which was almost the same color as the overcast sky. The waves were choppy, foaming up against the sand and the pebbles. Daniel stared out at the water, trying to make out any sign of movement, but there was nothing other than rhythmic lapping. He cupped his hand to his mouth.

"Nem!" he called, waiting for a few moments before calling again. He really had no idea how Nem had known about their arrival the last time, but however he'd done it, Daniel hoped it still worked. "Nem? Are you out there?"

"I see something," Sam said, pointing down the beach from their current position. A disturbance had appeared-bubbling water and froth slowly moving toward the shore. When the water grew shallow enough, a green head broke through the surface.

Nem's movements were hampered by the water, but once the water sloshed against his feet, he walked smoothly onto the sand. Pale green eyes stared at SG-1, widening after a moment in recognition, and Nem's mouth stretched into something that resembled a smile. The millennia old alien had aged since the last time Daniel had seen him, but it didn't seem to be anything visible on the surface.

On a soul-deep level, however, Daniel understood exactly how.

"Daniel," Nem greeted, inclining his head slightly. "I am ... surprised. I did not think to see you again."

"It's been a long time," Daniel agreed, though he wondered how long five years really were for a being like Nem.

"You have changed. As have your friends." Nem fixed his intense gaze on Daniel. "What fate Sha're?"

A shiver passed through Daniel's spine, and a sudden squeeze of grief seized his heart. He swallowed past a lump threatening to lodge in his throat. "She died, two years ago. I wasn't able to save her from the Goa'uld."

"I am sorry."

"Thank you."

Awkward silence hung between them as Daniel fought the tears beginning to sting his eyes. He could feel Teal'c's silent discomfort without looking, so he glanced at his friend to offer a smile. Back then, Sha're had asked him to forgive Teal'c, and he had to respect her last wishes. He could forgive Teal'c now because he wanted to.

"She is now free," Nem added.

"Yes, she is." And two years later, that still meant a lot.

"Why have you returned?"

"I've come to tell you what fate Belus."

Nem stiffened. "Yes?"

"He's dead. I wasn't there, but my friends were. We can give you the coordinates to the planet, if you'd like." Daniel wondered what his own reaction would be if someone had come to him with absolute proof of Apophis' death. He wanted finality and closure, not the assumption he lived with daily since the last time they saw their arch enemy. "I thought you should know."

"I ... see." Nem's expression adopted a faraway look, and he turned slightly away from them, toward the sea.

"But he was overthrown millennia ago by his priests and Jaffa who believed in what Omorocca tried to do on Earth. We only helped finish what she began."

Daniel listened to the waves, waiting for Nem to reply. Several moments passed before Nem turned to face them again, and there was a calm expression on his face.

"I am ... pleased with your news, Daniel."

"Good." Daniel fumbled with his pocket, pulling out the Eye of Tiamat protected in folded cloth. He carefully unwrapped it, the fingers of his right hand still feeling weak. "I think it should belong to you."

Nem let out a soft gasp as he accepted the disk. He placed it on his palm and closed his eyes. The jewel began to glow, a warm light slowly building up. An image suddenly erupted from the center of the light, hovering in the air above Nem's hand. The figure looked like Nem, but paler and with less appendages and fins. In a decidedly feminine voice, it spoke in an alien tongue.

"What's it saying?" Jack asked in a hushed voice.

"I have no idea." The language reminded Daniel of a dolphin's chatter, with hisses and clicks punctuating what he assumed to be words. "It's beautiful."

Omorocca gestured as she spoke, webbed hands moving through the air like fins in the water. She finished and looked at Nem for several moments, before disappearing. Nem stared at the empty space, then looked at Daniel again. His face trembled, and his voice came out in a whisper.

"My mate," he said. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Daniel said, smiling.

"She wishes me to return to our people," Nem continued.

"There are other folk like you?" Jack asked, his curiosity getting the better part of him.

"Yes." Stooping over until his hand touched the sand, Nem drew a set of six coordinates the same way he did the cuneiform five years ago. Satisfied, he drew himself up again and gestured to the marks. "Those ... are the coordinates. I will speak ... of you to my people, and you will come."

"We'd like that," Daniel said.

"A lot!" Sam added.

Nem nodded, pleased as he began to retreat toward the water. The Eye of Tiamat remained clutched in his hands. "You are not ... young for humans, but there is ... much to learn."

Inclining his head slightly toward SG-1, Nem splashed back the way he came, and dove beneath the waves. Daniel watched him disappear into the depth, then turned to his team. He scratched at his neck as he smiled.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"Nope, but I'm not looking the gift horse in the mouth." Jack poked Daniel in the arm. "You going to film that before it washes away?"

"Oh!" Daniel had to fumble for his camera, but Sam came to the rescue when his still-weakened arm didn't want to cooperate fully. "Right ..."

"Who's for sushi?" Jack asked a few moments later. "Might go nice with that vodka we were promised ..."

*fin*