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Stargate Reimagined: Part I (A Screenplay)


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Since 1999, I've been a fan of the original Stargate film. It's one of my favourite movies. I used to watch it religiously back in my teens, so much so that I basically memorized the film. Over the years, though, I've come to see just how imperfect it is; aside from some flat characterization and the unfortunate "white saviour" trope, there're a plethora of plot holes and wonky logic at work which've come to vex and befuddle me.

In writing this screenplay, my initial goal was to scrape away all the barnacles from the plot, to cast the story as-is in its best possible light without changing any of the main story beats. However, that changed along the way; what began as a tribute to Stargate — a love letter to the film which has been a constant companion for so very long — ended as an inversion. My story mirrors the original, but it's a decidedly more cynical reflection.

Aside from the film itself, I used the film novelization as the main source of information and inspiration in the writing of this script; many scenes are directly lifted from it. I'm no longer a big fan of Stargate SG-1, so I haven't incorporated many SG-1-specific characters or elements into this story; don't expect Samantha Carter or Teal'c to make an appearance here (the former is set to appear in Parts II & III, though, whenever I get around to writing them).


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On catacomb walls.

Upon the walls, bathed in torchlight, are painted murals. Though similar in style to those created by the ancient Egyptians, these are cruder and less colourful. The scenes they depict are of a beneficent deity descending from the heavens to Earth in luminous glory, blessing the sons and daughters of Man with science and civilization.



A shot of the sun blazing a fierce yellow in the clear blue sky.


To a panoramic shot of the regal Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities building.



The office room — well-lit and elaborately decorated — is inhabited by a pair of men: PROFESSOR PAUL LANGFORD and the EGYPTIAN INTERIOR MINISTER. E.I.M — a plump Egyptian in a fine white suit with a meticulously waxed mustache — is seated behind a grand ebony desk, while Langford — a bean-thin Swede with a thin white mustache clad in his own fine white suit — stands before it.

The two men are engaged in a conversation already in progress when a loud rapping is heard at the office door. E.I.M barks something in Arabic and the door opens. A thin, dark-skinned man in a simple uniform enters.

DELIVERY BOY: (in Arabic, subtitled) I have a message for you, Professor Langford. From Mr. Taylor.

PROF. LANGFORD: Taylor, eh? (beat; subtitled) Alright, give it to me.

The delivery boy hands a sealed envelope to Langford. The Swede opens it and withdraws a folded piece of paper.

E.I.M: (to delivery boy; subtitled) You can go now.

As the thin man leaves, Langford unfolds the paper.


Close-up of the note, which reads:


Sitting down? We've got something. Probably a tomb. Too soon to tell. Excavation continues. Very exciting. I suggest you get your aristocratic hind-end out here. AT ONCE. And don't bring any of those pudding heads from the ministry. Let's keep this quiet for as long as we can.



Professor Langford is seated in the back of a black Rolls Royce with his daughter KARIN. Folding the note in his hands, Langford looks up, taking in the breathtaking view of the sparkling Nile river and the Giza Pyramids beyond Cairo's conjested downtown.

KARIN: (in Swedish, subtitled) What do you think they've found, Daddy?

PROF. LANGFORD: (subtitled) I don't know, Little Bird. We'll have to wait and see, won't we?

Langford looks down at his fancy white suit.

PROF. LANGFORD: (subtitled) I really should have stopped to change out of these ridiculous clothes….


The Rolls Royce comes to a stop at the edge of a rock shelf. Langford climbs out and starts up the slope of loose rock and silt, Karin following close behind. Reaching the top, the father/daughter duo surveys the landscape sprawled out before them.

KARIN: (points; subtitled) Daddy, the treasure's over there.

Langford follows the girl's finger. Though the entire surface of the shelf is painted with the telltale signs of archaeological excavation, most of the site's present activity is centred around the far end of the shelf, where dozens upon dozens of workers are working at a frenetic pace, carrying away bucket-loads of loose rubble and bringing in hydralic winches.

PROF. LANGFORD: (subtitled) We'll go see Ed Taylor first.

Langford and his daughter make their way to a large tent. There, a small group of men with ED TAYLOR stand hunched over a low table off to the side of the tent entrance.

PROF. LANGFORD: (approaches Taylor) Ed, if we’ve found a pet cemetery, I quit.

TAYLOR: (to Langford) We can't decipher this writing. Take a look.

Taylor steps aside, making room for Langford. Laid out over the table top is a large sheet of paper with charcoal rubbings of strange glyphs.

KARIN: (pushes in between father and Taylor) Those aren't real hieroglyphics.

TAYLOR: At least not the ones we're used to.

PROF. LANGFORD: (edgy) Taylor, where did these symbols come from?

TAYLOR: I'll show you.

Motioning for the professor and his daughter to follow, Taylor leaves the tent. Working their way through the maze of excavated parcels, they soon come to the far end of the shelf, under a low rock wall beyond which lies the pit where the workers are congregating. There, resting in the sand, is a large coverstone. Chiselled from a single large slab of sandstone, the coverstone is perfectly circular, 7 metres in diametre. The surface is engraved with etchings, each subdivided into distinct sections: a round centerpiece with three surrounding rings. The centerpiece contains an elaborate cartouche housing eight strange glyphs; the inner ring contains a series of concentric lines, some of the intersecting points of which are clearly marked while others are not; the middle ring contains lines of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic text; the outer ring contains thirty-nine unrecognizable glyphs — eight of which match those contained in the central cartouche.

TAYLOR: It's a coverstone, the largest one I've ever seen. (beat) When you bury something with a rock this size, you mean to keep it buried.

Langford begins circling the large coverstone, inspecting the engraved surface carefully, then climbs atop the stone to scrutinize the centerpiece. The archaeologist furrows his brow and strokes his chin, deep in thought.

PROF. LANGFORD: Very queer. (beat) This inner band is somewhat legible: this one here could be the symbol for years ... a thousand years ... heaven, the stars or something like that ... lives Atum, first god. (cont'd) But what in the world do you make of these outer symbols?

Before Taylor can answer, a shout rings out from the large pit. Leaving the large round stone, Langford, Taylor, and Karin begin making their way around the stone wall to the pit beyond.

As the three enter the pit, they see the workers engage their winches, hoisting something out of the ancient earth surrounding it. As the strange object is pulled erect, the workers prop it up with padded wooden poles, allowing it to rest upright on a ninety-degree angle.

KARIN: (looks up at father; amazed) It's one of God's bracelets!

The unearthed artifact is a perfectly round ring composed of some sort of black stone, its entire surface engraved with meticulously wrought designs. 6.7 metres in diametre, the ring is lined with nine wedge-shaped jewels set apart at even distances and contains an inner ring etched with the same thirty-nine strange glyphs found on the coverstone's outer ring. As sunlight hits it, some of the ring's natural iridescence shines through its thick layer of brown dust.

PROF. LANGFORD: (to Taylor) What in the world is that? 

TAYLOR: I wish I knew….

The two archaeologists turn to one another, dumbfounded. Their eyes suddenly light up and they clasp hands roughly, broad grins breaking out across their faces.

PROF. LANGFORD & TAYLOR: (in union) We did it!

As the workers finish securing the large black ring, one of them notices something in the earth. Stepping into the depression where the ring had lain, he points down into a crack running through the bedrock.

WORKER: Look at that! There is something buried underneath!

The workers erupt into excitement; they all crowd in in an attempt to uncover what their comrade has spotted. Shouting orders to the workers, Taylor takes off in a run towards them.

PROF. LANGFORD: (places hands on Karin's shoulders; in Swedish, subtitled) You are not to move from this spot.

Langford rushes off to join Taylor with the workers. Karin stands there, impatiently rocking back-and-forth on her heels, before deciding to disobey her father's orders and join him at the site. Pushing through the workers, Karin grimaces as she makes her way to the epicentre of the frantic activity. There, Karin finds Taylor directing three men as they pull up and remove slabs of broken stone, revealing what it is the workman glimpsed.

KARIN: (subtitled) Fossils!

In the open cavity the workers uncovered lies a horribly twisted figure embedded in the stone. Though its body is humanoid, its exoskeletal head is unmistakably nonhuman; it sports the flinty eyes and wicked beak of a bird of prey. Clasped in the fossil’s one exposed hand, standing out against the surrounding sandstone, is a gold pendant on a chain, the design of a stylized human eye engraved in its surface.

PROF. LANGFORD: (angry) Karin!

The professor hurriedly crosses over to his daughter. Hoisting her up, he carries the girl away from the unearthly discovery and the throng surrounding it. Setting Karin down, pulling her alongside him, Langford leaves the pit. As they return to their Rolls Royce, another — this one white — pulls up alongside it. The side door opens and a foppish bureaucrat steps out. This man is the EGYPTIAN UNDERSECRETARY OF THE MINISTRY OF ANTIQUITIES.

E.U.S: (tips hat) Good afternoon, Mister and Miss Langford. Has anything interesting happened today?

Langford and Karin exchange glances.​


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A heavy rainfall pelts the ground of Gower Street in Hollywood, Los Angeles.


DANIEL JACKSON, a 35-year-old man with dark brown hair and John Lennon glasses, walks alone down the street, miserably carrying a heavy book sack through the rain. Unshaven and clad in a faded green fishing hat, he looks positively destitute; only the long cashmere trench coat he wears gives him any air of respectability.

Turning the corner, Daniel passes by a pair of disreputable women — one short and skinny, the other tall and fat — and comes to a small convenience store. Adjusting the sack to redistribute its weight, the wet man steps through the door.


As Daniel enters, the shopkeeper — a large man with a shaved bald head and a big handlebar mustache — puts down his copy of Gamines Galore, greeting his customer with a large, toothy grin.

ARZUMANIAN: Mr. Dan, my friend, what's happen'?

DANIEL: Amen ench shat ahavor ar. Nrank char hasskanum yes enchkar khalatse em. (beat) So I was hoping to get a bottle of wine, but I don't know when I'll be able to pay you back.

ARZUMANIAN: I got idea. Yes kpoknem. You come in next day, I tell you. Okay?

DANIEL: I'll be here. Thanks.


Daniel exits the store, a bottle of cheap red wine in a paper bag in his hand. Stuffing the bottle inside one coat pocket, he adjusts his sack again and continues on his way.


Daniel walks across a largely empty parking lot to the open doors of Tkenchenko's Tires, a garage set in a short, squat building. Stepping inside, he walks past the owner, Vladimir Tkenchenko, who is busy working on a rusty Lexus. Seeing the sodden man in his pitiful state, the mechanic shakes his balding head with disapproval. Ignoring Tkenchenko, Daniel crosses over to the shop's business counter. There, filing her long, red-violet nails with her red-violet lips upturned in a smile of contentment, is a pretty woman. Sporting blonde-streaked brown hair and garbed in a bosom-hugging red-violet sweater, she's not much younger than Daniel.

DANIEL: Any mail for me, Svetlana?

Svetlana, noticing Daniel for the first time, abruptly stops filing her nails, chipping one in the process. The smile quickly flees her face.

SVETLANA: Goddammit, Daniel! Look what you made me do! (beat) I just got a manicure!

DANIEL: Why're you filing your nails if you just got a manicure?

SVETLANA: (narrows eyes) Shut up.

Svetlana reaches under the counter and brings out two items of mail. She hands them to Daniel.

DANIEL: (half-smiles) Isn't tonight Thai night?

SVETLANA: Get bent.

Frowning, Svetlana takes out her iPod. Placing the earbuds in her ears and turning it on, she ignores Daniel once again.

DANIEL: It's been a pleasure, sweet Svetlana.

Turning his back to the cold woman, Daniel goes through his mail. The first item is a phone bill with the words "FINAL WARNING" printed in big red letters at the top, the second a missing children's card. Sighing dispassionately, he stuffs the items into a coat pocket — not the one holding the booze — then leaves the garage, stepping back out into the pouring rain.

Taking a seat on a pile of beat-up old tires, Daniel spies a filthy homeless man arguing with a cat and a tough-looking chauffeur guarding a sleek limousine across the street. Sighing again, he props his chin up on his balled fists.

DISEMBODIED VOICE #1: (V.O.) Ignores long established facts….

DISEMBODIED VOICE #2: (V.O.) Jackson is either misguided and incompetent or he is engaging in substance abuse….

DISEMBODIED VOICE #3: (V.O.) This is the sort of archaeology we expect to find in The National Enquirer….


Though the sky is heavy with gray cloud, no rain is yet falling.


A LARGE AUDIENCE made up of Egyptologists, miscellaneous scholars, and a few scattered reporters sits in rows of seats, facing a large stage. On the stage, a dignified-looking man in his late sixties/early seventies — DOCTOR AJAMI — stands facing the audience, while Daniel — dressed in the same clothes seen earlier minus the hat, coat, and moisture — sits on a chair behind him.

DR. AJAMI: (cont'd) He graduated with his Master's at the age of twenty, speaks eleven different languages, and I fully expect his dissertation to become the standard reference on the early development of Egyptian hieroglyphics. He has written several seminal articles on the comparative linguistics of the Afro-Asiatic language groups and, of course, on the development of the Egyptian language from the Archaic Period to the Old Kingdom, which will be his topic today. Please welcome one of Egyptology's most promising young scholars, Daniel Jackson!

Rising from his chair, Daniel takes Ajami's place before the audience. From there he spots two aging professors: the pudgy PROFESSOR RAUSCHENBERG and the lanky DOCTOR TUBMAN, snickering to one another.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: Ah, another wunderkind.

DR. TUBMAN: Not quite up to Sir Alan Gardiner.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: But let's hope he's not another Wallis Budge!

Daniel quickly looks up toward the ceiling, coughs into his hand, then points in Rauschenberg's direction.

DANIEL: Sir, what kind of car do you drive?

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (confused) A Ford.

DANIEL: A Model T?

A number of audience members laugh at Rauschenberg's expense. The professor takes it all in stride.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (smiles) I'm not quite that old. I drive a Focus.

DANIEL: (scratches chin) I see. Power steering and power brakes?

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (grins) Don't forget power windows!

DANIEL: So, in the unlikely event that a long-dormant volcano erupts in Santa Monica this afternoon and we're all exhumed hundred of years later by wunderkind archaeologists, there's really no chance of them dating you and your car to the early part of the last century?

DR. TUBMAN: (frowns) What are you driving at?

DANIEL: Henry Ford starts out modestly — one could say primitively — with the Model A, then he slowly develops his product into the sophisticated technology we enjoy today. Which leads to my central question about the ancient Egyptians: Why didn't their culture "develop"? (beat) I believe the evidence shows that their arts, their sciences, mathematics, technology, and techniques of warfare were all there, complete from the beginning.

The audience members begin murmuring amongst themselves. Daniel gives them a moment then resumes.

DANIEL: (cont'd) What I want to argue here today is that the Egyptians of the Archaic Period somehow "inherited" all of these arts and sciences, then, after a short "getting acquainted" period, we see the full flowering of what we call ancient Egypt. (beat) Their writing for example. The hieroglyphic system of the first two dynasties is notoriously difficult to interpret. The common wisdom holds that it is a crude version of the more complex writing we find later, at the time of the Old Kingdom. But, what I have tried to demonstrate in a series of articles, is that this early language is a fully developed system, a combination of phonetic and ideogrammatic elements. If this is true, they were able to move from crude cave paintings to a complicated system for describing the world and themselves in virtually no time at all, a few generations.

Pausing, Daniel watches as the first group of scholars rises from their chairs and moves toward the exits. Rolling his eyes, he continues.

DANIEL: Let's take another example. The theme of today's conference is the Great Pyramid of Khufu.

Dr. Ajami coughs politely and nods, wordlessly reminding Daniel that that is the theme and silently admonishing him to stick to it.

DANIEL: (cont'd) The same argument applies to Khufu's Pyramid. Most scientists believe that this masterpiece of engineering must have been the result of generations of practice. According to this theory, Djoser's Step Pyramid at Saqqara, the so-called Flat Pyramid, and the large tombs at Abydos are seen as warm-ups, learning exercises that lead to the infinitely more complex and precise Great Pyramid. (beat) As many of you know, I don't subscribe to that theory. In my view, the Great Pyramid must have come first, followed by the lesser structures just mentioned. The evidence supporting the traditional sequence of construction is based on folklore and written records that were made hundreds of years after the fact. (beat) The scant evidence we do have suggests, in my view, that the people living along the Nile were slowly forgetting how to build these structures, getting worse and worse at it with each passing generation.

A number of audience members giggle at Daniel's proclamation while a few others stand and walk out.

DANIEL: (cont'd) Unfortunately, the many attempts to determine the construction dates of the pyramids using C14 tests haven't given us conclusive results. Enough conflicting data exists to justify just about any theoretical position. But ask yourselves this question: All the lesser pyramids are heavily inscribed with the names of the pharaohs who ordered their construction. The mastabas surrounding the pyramids are blanketed with hieroglyphs announcing the names and titles of their owners, lists of offerings, construction dates, which gods they worshipped, the musical instruments they played, etc. Typically, we find painted histories in these tombs extolling the many godlike qualities of the persons buried there. And yet the greatest pyramid of all, Khufu's, has no writings whatsoever. Not a mark anywhere, inside or out. Does that make any sense?

A tall, gaunt man — the English PROFESSOR ROMNEY — rises up, interrupting Daniel.

PROF. ROMNEY: It's an interesting theory, Dr. Jackson, one that most of us are familiar with.

Someone begins humming the Twilight Zone theme, cracking some of the audience members up.

PROF. ROMNEY: (cont'd) You suggest that the pyramid wasn't built for a pharaoh because there was no name in it. But what about Vyse's discovery of the quarryman's inscription of Khufu's name written inside the relieving chamber, sealed since its construction?

DANIEL: (sighs) That discovery was a joke, a fraud perpetrated by Vyse himself.

The audience erupts into loud, vehement dissent. Some boo, others leave.

PROF. ROMNEY: That's too easy, Dr. Jackson. If you had done your homework, you wouldn't have to defame the good reputation of dead men to support your ideas.

DANIEL: (takes off glasses; wipes smudge from lens) Before leaving for Egypt, Vyse bragged that he would make an important discovery that would make him world famous. Using his father's money, he hired an elite team of experts and brought them to the Giza Pyramids. But after several very expensive months, they had nothing to show for their efforts, so Vyse fired the lot of them and imported a gang of gold miners from his father's South American mining operation. Less than three weeks later, they "discovered" what forty centuries of explorers, grave robbers, and scientists could not find — the secret room "sealed since construction". (beat) In this otherwise empty room, they found the very thing that made Vyse's reputation: the long-sought-after cartouche with Khufu's name. The cartouche appears on three walls of the chamber, but, strangely, not on the wall Vyse sledgehammered into rubble to enter the room. The name is written in a red ink that appears nowhere else in ancient Egypt. It is astonishingly well preserved and, incredibly, it is misspelled.

PROF. ROMNEY: Well, what can you expect from an illiterate quarryman?

Daniel turns his back to the audience, strides over to the whiteboard behind him and, picking up a marker, draws a cartouche containing a hieroglyphic inscription.

DANIEL: This is the inscription Vyse claims to have found in the relieving chamber. Now we all know, if we're done our homework, (narrows eyes at Romney) that Vyse carried with him the 1828 edition of Wilkinson's Materia Hieroglyphica published in Amsterdam by Heynis Books. (beat) Diligent students such as yourself, Professor, will not have failed to notice that in the very next edition the publishers included a loose-leaf apology listing the errata in the previous edition. This list includes the hieroglyphs for the name "Khufu". They misprinted the first consonant of the name. It should look like this….

Daniel crosses out the cartouche and draws another containing a nearly identical line of hieroglyphs beside it.

DANIEL: (cont'd) What an exceedingly strange coincidence that the cartouche Vyse discovered is misspelled in exactly the same way! (beat) If a quarryman had misspelled the name of the pharaoh, especially inside his burial chamber, he would have been put to death and the wall would have been torn down and rebuilt. (sarcastic) But I'm sure you knew all this already because you look like a man who takes his work seriously.

PROF. ROMNEY: (sneers) You sound like a bad television show.

With those words, Romney turns and leaves for the exits. The majority of the audience remains seated, however, and are now far more interested in what Daniel has to say.

DANIEL: (runs hand through hair) Now if we could get back for a moment. Perhaps the real origins of their civilization lay buried in the wadis of the Western Sahara —

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (O.C.) Doctor, if I may….

Daniel looks around, searching for the owner of the voice with his eyes, until he spots a 56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN standing back at the far end of the conference hall. Dressed in all-black with a gold pendant bearing the design of a stylized human eye clasped around her neck, she has shoulder-length blond hair and an accent that, while largely American, contains a Swedish tinge.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: Let me first say that your command of the facts is impressive.

DANIEL: (smiles) Thank you.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: I just have one question: Who do you think built the Great Pyramid?

DANIEL: (loses smile) I have no idea who built it or why.

A collective groan of disappointment goes up from the audience. The woman, however, just nods briskly, apparently satisfied with the answer. She then turns around and leaves.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (in posh English accent) The lost people of Atlantis?

A number of audience members break out in riotous laughter. They begin collecting their belongings and start leaving in droves.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (cont'd) Or Martians, perhaps!

DANIEL: I didn't say that.

PROF. RAUSCHENBERG: (drops accent) No, but you were about to.

DANIEL: You're missing the point entirely.

Half the audience has left at this point, with the other half beginning to follow its example. Desperately hoping to find a way to salvage the lecture, Daniel hurriedly begins rifling through his stack of notes.

DANIEL: (frantic) Geological evidence dates the Sphinx back to the Neolithic Period. Knowing this to be true, we must begin to re-evaluate everything we've come to accept about the origins of ancient Egyptian culture….

The few remaining audience members depart, leaving Daniel and Dr. Ajami alone together on the stage. Ajami, clearly disappointed, approaches Daniel with his hands clasped tightly together.

DR. AJAMI: I'm very, very disappointed with you, Daniel. I thought we had an understanding that you wouldn't discuss this nonsense here today. I took a risk presenting you here today, tried to do you a favour, but now I'm afraid you've killed your career. Goodbye.

Ajami leaves the stage, leaving Daniel truly — finally — alone in the deserted conference hall.

DANIEL: Are there any questions?


DANIEL: (deadpan) I'd like to meet that nice lady again. Fix some tea, have a little chat, then slowly strangle her to death.

Daniel rises to his feet, takes off his waterlogged hat, wrings it out, then places it back on his head. Turning around, he heads back to the crumbling building.


Daniel ascends the stairwell leading to the second floor of the ramshackle building. Making his way down the short corridor, he suddenly halts dead in his tracks, dropping his book sack. There the door to his apartment stands wide open before him.


Daniel cautiously steps inside his apartment and, wary of potential threats, reaches into his coat and pulls out the bottle of wine. Brandishing it like a club, Daniel presses himself up against the wall, listening for sounds, then leaps into his living room.


There, going through the loose papers strewn atop his old mahogany desk, is the same middle-aged woman in black from the conference.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (nonchalant) Come in. (beat) Your cleaning lady must be taking the year off.

Perplexed, Daniel slowly steps forward, tossing the bottle unceremoniously onto a duct taped recliner.

DANIEL: Uh ... is there ... what the hell are you doing in my apartment?

The mature lady, her attention now diverted to a marble bust of a lovely Egyptian woman situated atop Daniel's desk, picks the graceful sculpture up and begins examining it, turning it slowly over in her hands.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: Now this is a truly beautiful piece of art. I'd guess 14th century BC, probably from the area around Edfu. (looks about shabby apartment) How did you ever manage to afford it?

DANIEL: (nervous) Please, be very careful with that.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (carefully places bust back on desk) I've come to offer you a job.

DANIEL: (frowns) What kind of a job?

The lady leaves the desk, moving over to a wall adorned with a medium-sized photograph. In the photograph are three figures: a handsome blond man built like a linebacker, a willowy woman with auburn hair, and an eleven-year-old Daniel Jackson; the three figures are posed in a group hug, broad smiles on their faces.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (turns to Daniel) Your parents?

DANIEL: Foster.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: Oh, that's right. Your parents died in that plane crash back in ... what was it, '87?

DANIEL: (sarcastic) Ah yes, let me think. Yes, I believe it was '87. An excellent year for a fiery death, wouldn't you say?

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (ashamed) I'm sorry. It was —

DANIEL: (angry) No, really, if it would amuse you, let's definitely have a chitchat about the way my parents died!

Daniel stares daggers at the woman, who averts her eyes. Fuming, he walks past her into his small kitchen, opening the refrigerator and peering into the wasteland within.

56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: My name is Karin Langford. I have some very early hieroglyphs I'd like you to work on.

Concluding none of the few foodstuffs left inside his refrigerator are fit for human consumption, Daniel closes it and rejoins Karin's company.

DANIEL: Since when is the military interested in Egyptian hieroglyphs?

KARIN (56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN): (cocks eyebrow) Military? What makes you think this has anything to do with the military?

DANIEL: The chauffeur across the street was sporting a crew cut. An oddity on the streets of Hollywood, wouldn't you say? (beat) I think I'm too old to run off and join the Army.

KARIN: (grins) Very impressive, Doctor. (loses grin) Look, I wish I could explain everything to you, but there's a certain amount of secrecy involved with this project.

DANIEL: Well maybe you can divulge this much: Why should I take a job I know nothing about?

KARIN: Your landlord mentioned he'd served you an eviction notice, there's a stack of unpaid bills on your desk, and your grants have run out. Now, it looks to me like young Dr. Jackson needs a job, and after your talk this afternoon, I wouldn't sit home waiting for the phone to ring. (beat) But there's an even better reason you should come to work for me, Daniel.

DANIEL: (smirks) And what might that be?

KARIN: (unclasps handbag; pulls out large brown envelope) To prove that your theories are right.

Karin hands the envelope to Daniel. Taking the envelope, he pulls open the tab and pulls out the contents. There in his hand are several black-&-white photographs of the unusual coverstone her father's expedition had uncovered in Egypt. Going through the photos, Daniel's mouth falls agape.

KARIN: (pulls photos from Daniel's hands) That's enough for now.

Sliding the photos back in the envelope and the envelope back in her handbag, Karin withdraws another envelope — a white envelope emblazoned with the Air Force logo. She hands it to Daniel, who tentatively takes it.

DANIEL: What's this?

KARIN: Travel plans.

Opening the envelope, Daniel peers at the contents.

DANIEL: Denver? (sneezes) Look, as you can imagine, I'm not real big on flying.

Without a word, Karin walks past Daniel to the open apartment door. She turns to Daniel, a slight smile on her lips.

KARIN: Get over it.

She steps out, closing the door behind her.​


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An intensely sunny day, though it is late fall, the temperature is scorching, causing rippling waves of heat to rise from the baking sidewalks and roads. Except for a few pets resting here-and-there on the lawns of their homes, there is no outdoor activity going on.


A navy blue sedan drives past the front yard of a home where a large Border Collie sits panting under the shade of an elm tree. The dog, half-interested in the vehicle's passing, regards it with a slow turn of its head.


The sedan pulls up to a pretty two-storey house with a modestly landscaped front yard, braking in front of the garage. The front doors click open and TWO OFFICERS in crisp blue uniforms — one TALL and one SHORT — step out, regarding their surroundings as if on a recon mission. They stride to the front door, the tall one in front. The short officer, a black folder tucked under his arm, regards the garage. A boy's red-&-teal bicycle leans against the wall beside the garage door, obviously neglected and disused. The tall officer — his tag identifying him as MAJOR SILAS ANDERMAN — knocks on the door. Moments later the door opens a crack and a PRETTY BRUNETTE in her early fifties peeks out from behind the chain.


The door is quickly closed again. The two officers exchange glances. As Anderman goes to knock again, it swings open, revealing the full form of SARAH O'NEAL. She regards the pair with an icy glare. The officers, intimidated by her cold eyes, unconsciously shrink back.

SARAH: (cold) Wipe your feet.

Sarah disappears inside the house. The officers exchange glances again before following her inside.


The two officers enter the immaculate interior of the house, closing the door behind them. Stepping deeper inside the house, they find the living room on their left; perfectly clean and tidy, it is also completely empty. On their right they find the kitchen.


The officers find Sarah busy slicing raw meat on a cutting board.

MAJ. ANDERMAN: Mrs. O'Neal, is your husband home?

SARAH: (eyes fixed on meat) Yes, he is.

MAJ. ANDERMAN: Ma'am, do you think we might be able to speak with him?

Finished with the meat, Sarah places her knife down then cleans her hands off on some paper towel. Reaching into her front shirt pocket, she retrieves a pack of cigarettes and fishes out a cigarette. Lighting it with a green plastic lighter, she puts it to her lips and takes a deep drag.

SARAH: (exhales) You can try.


A MAN sits inside the dim interior of what appears to be a teenaged boy's bedroom. Among the various items we see taking up space within the room are a Seventh Seal poster above the headboard of the room's bed; a small shelf packed full of books and magazines; various LEGO models; sports trophies; and a catcher's mitt complete with softball. Seated in an armchair, the man is shirtless and unshaven, his hair long and greasy, his face perfectly devoid of expression. Staring straight ahead, eyes fixed open, he grips the stock of an uncocked Smith & Wesson Model 29 loosely in his hands.


As Anderman and his comrade stride down the hallway toward the bedroom, they pass several framed photographs on the white wall to their left. All the photos depict images of life, love, and happiness among friends and family.


Perched atop the small shelf is a framed photo of a thirteen-year-old boy in a softball uniform, standing with a beefy, red-mustached man in a coach's uniform. The boy, tossing a softball in the air, is beaming into the camera. The boy is Tyler O'Neal, the last tenant to inhabit this room.

Sensing the officers' arrival, the unshaven man quickly hides the Model 29 beneath the armchair cushion. The two officers tentatively enter the bedroom. The man they seek, though well aware of their presence, pays them no heed, continuing to stare straight forward.

SHORT OFFICER: Pardon us, Captain O'Neal. We're from General West's office.

For the first time, JACK O'NEAL turns his head to the officers, regarding them stonily.

SHORT OFFICER: (holds out black folder) We're here to inform you that you've been reactivated.

O'Neal rises from the chair, turning to them. Maj. Anderman, turning around, closes the bedroom door.


The front door of the O'Neal residence opens and the two officers step outside. As they return to their car, it is apparent the short officer no longer carries the black folder on him.

From the kitchen window, obscured behind a heavy curtain, Sarah peers out at the two officers as they leave.


The door creaks open and Sarah peers in. Her husband is no longer there. Slowly she leans back out, closing the door once again.


Sarah steps back from the bedroom door. At this point she hears the faint sound of the shower running from the bathroom. A troubled expression worn on her face, she goes to another room — their bedroom.


The bedroom door swings open and Sarah enters. She stiffens. There, lain out on the king-sized bed like a corpse prepared for burial, is her husband's neatly pressed uniform. Resting beside it, like a profane idol dedicated to an obscene god, is the black folder.​


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Though an access road, another navy blue sedan reaches the entrance tunnel into a military installation hidden deep beneath the mountain.



The sedan parked, Daniel climbs out. A big, muscular non-commissioned officer in a crisp blue uniform — MASTER SERGEANT ADAM KAWALSKY — is there to greet him.

KAWALSKY: Daniel Jackson?


With a large grin, the sergeant takes Daniel's hand and gives it an eagre shake. Daniel winces from the strength of his grip.

KAWALSKY: I'm Sgt. Adam Kawalsky.

Daniel sneezes.

KAWALKSY: (frowns) Cold?

DANIEL: Allergies. Always happens when I travel. (beat) So, is this an Army base?

KAWALSKY: I'm not authorized to discuss that.

DANIEL: (grins) No, seriously. Is this like a camp for Army scholars, a think tank or something?

KAWALSKY: Until you sign the non-disclosure agreement, sir, I'm not at liberty to discuss that subject.

Circling around behind the sedan, Kawalsky finds Daniel's large book sack along with two bulging suitcases inside the open trunk.

KAWALSKY: (eyes sack) Help you with that?

DANIEL: Careful. They're books and they're really —

Without any visible effort, Kawalsky hefts the sack out of the trunk single-handedly.

DANIEL: (cont'd) heavy.

With Kawalsky carrying the book sack and Daniel carrying the suitcases, they start towards the entrance.


Daniel and Kawalsky enter an elevator. As the doors close, Kawalsky slides a keycard through a slot and — pressing the button marked "18" — the box begins its descent.

KAWALSKY: (hands stick of gum to Daniel) Equalizes your ear pressure.

Daniel takes the gum and, unwrapping it, stuffs it in his mouth and begins chewing nervously.


The elevator finishes its descent and the doors swish open. Emerging, the sergeant leads the Egyptologist down a sterile hospital-type corridor.

Coming to a pair of doors, the non-com raps on them both.

KAWALSKY: Dr. Meyers — Shore — are you in?

The doors open. The first individual to emerge is DOCTOR GARY MEYERS, a tall, chunky man of about thirty-eight. Dressed in pressed black slacks and a beige sweater, he should look studious and serious, though he comes off more as the boisterous type. Shortly following is BARBARA SHORE, a 48-year-old Texan woman in a midnight blue jumpsuit. Tall and sexy with wavy black hair, she wouldn't look at all out of place on a fashion runway.

MEYERS: (grins) You must be Jackson. (offers hand) I'm Dr. Gary Meyers, Ph.D on loan from Harvard.

DANIEL: (shakes Meyers' hand) Dr. Meyers. Of course — you specialize in comparative linguistics. (beat) I read your thesis on Sumerian cuneiform's influence on the early development of Egyptian hieroglyphs. (grins) I can't say I fully agree with your conclusions.

MEYERS: (smiles) Neither do I on your theories.

BARBARA: I'm Barbara Shore, the token astrophysicist on the team. Hello.


Barbara shakes hands with Daniel then turns to Kawalsky.

BARBARA: So Kawalsky, you overgrown testicle, isn't it about time you reintroduced us to our illustrious host and let us know just what it is we've all hauled ass here for?

KAWALSKY: (sighs) If you'll follow me….


The twin doors of the coverstone room swing open and Kawalsky escorts Daniel, Meyers, and Barbara inside. Seeing the immense room's main attraction, their mouths fall agape. There — beyond three long tables outfitted with various artifacts, documents, and advanced computer equipment — is the large sandstone coverstone recovered from the Langford excavation, secured high above on the far wall. Standing there, like a high priestess within the Holy of Holies, is Karin Langford.

KARIN: (turns to new arrivals) Glad to see you all made it.

The three scholars approach Karin slowly, eyes transfixed on the coverstone.

DANIEL: Where did you find this?

KARIN: Giza Plateau, 1967. (beat) As you can see, there are two rings of glyphs. The inner tract of writing is an extremely early form of hieroglyphs and we've managed to make preliminary translations of it, but the outer one has been giving us the fits. The symbols, as you can see, are unlike anything we've ever found before.

DANIEL: Could be some form of hieratic.

MEYERS: Maybe cuneiform.

KARIN: Like Champollion with the Rosetta Stone, we thought the two scripts might be parallel translations, but if they are, we can't find the similarities. It doesn't help that it's written in a circle without any discernible punctuation.

DANIEL: Alright, I understand why Gary and I've been brought on board, but what's Barbara's role in all this? An astrophysicist's expertise doesn't exactly lie with 5000-year-old Egyptian tablets.

O'NEAL: (O.C.) My report says ten thousand.

The six people in the large room quickly turn towards the owner of the voice. Standing behind them, black folder in left hand, is Capt. Jack O'Neal. In his crew cut and immaculate uniform, he is the very picture of self-assurance and command.

KAWALSKY: (snaps to attention) Sir!

KARIN: (to Daniel) Barbara was brought in to analyze the concentric lines etched on the coverstone. There's evidence they hold geometric significance. (to O'Neal) Do I know you?

O'NEAL: (opens folder; withdraws document) I'm Capt. Jack O'Neal from Gen. West's office. I'll be taking over from this point forward.

Kawalsky approaches the captain, who hands him the document to look over.

DANIEL: (to no one in particular) Wait a second — ten thousand years?

MEYERS: (to Karin) I'm sorry, but that's impossible. Egyptian culture didn't even exist —

KARIN: (attention on O'Neal) Radiometric dating's been conclusive.

DANIEL: This is a coverstone. Was there a tomb underneath?

KARIN: No, not a tomb. We've found something far more interesting — the primary reason I wanted you for Project Giza, Barbara. That's —

O'NEAL: Excuse me, but that information's become classified.

BARBARA: Karin, what the hell is goin' on here?

KARIN: I'm not sure.

O'NEAL: (to Kawalsky) Effective immediately, no information is to be passed on to non-military personnel without my expressed permission.

DANIEL: We've just come from across the country. What exactly is it you want us to do here?

O'NEAL: You're all translators and analysts, so translate and analyze. (to Kawalsky) Sergeant, I want all information not directly pertaining to this tablet to be removed from this workspace and brought to my office immediately. Until that happens, you are the only individual authorized to be in this room.

With that last command, O'Neal turns and leaves. Wasting no time, Karin follows after him.

BARBARA: (smirks) Who was that masked man?

DANIEL: (approaches Kawalsky) You guys can't be serious about restricting us from information. I mean, if we're going to have any chance of figuring out what this stone says, we're going to need information. Otherwise, what the hell are we doing here?

KAWALSKY: (sullen) Your quarters are over there, directly across from the hall. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask.

DANIEL: (angry) Didn't you hear what I just said‽ How am I supposed to decipher this thing without any information‽

KAWALSKY: (frowns) I have my orders.

Kawalsky points toward the double doors, silently ordering Daniel, Meyers, and Barbara to leave the room at once.

DANIEL: (shakes head in disbelief) Do you always follow orders? Always?

KAWALSKY: As a matter of fact, I do.


Capt. O'Neal walks through the corridor at a brisk pace, Karin keeping pace right behind him.

KARIN: Capt. O'Neal, I think you owe me an explanation. I was personally assured by Gen. West that I would have complete autonomy.

O'Neal stops. Turning around, he regards her with hard eyes.

O'NEAL: Plans change.

KARIN: Apparently. I'd appreciate some elaboration.

O'NEAL: The way I understand it, the folks at headquarters find things have gotten a little lax around here. And now you've brought in more civilians.

KARIN: (stern) Captain, they were approved.

O'Neal remains silent.

KARIN: This doesn't have anything to do with them, does it? (beat) What's this all about? Why'd they bring you in on this project?

O'NEAL: I'm here in case you succeed.

This time Karin remains silent.


Daniel, Meyers, and Barbara are seated close together at one of the small tables taking up space within the mess hall. Beyond them, four solitary enlisted men having meals by their lonesome, and a sandy-haired civilian member of the personnel arguing with a cook over the lemon content in the lemon chicken, the room is eerily empty.

DANIEL: (cont'd) Why bring us in on this project? Why recruit an Egyptologist, comparative linguist, and astrophysicist if you're only going to cuckold them? If there's a method to their madness, I fail to see it.

MEYERS: I suppose that's why "military intelligence" is an oxymoron.

BARBARA: OOPArts are fine and dandy like sour candy, but they're not subjects the military goes gaga over — not unless there's somethin' important about them, somethin' exploitable. (beat) Mark my words, studmuffins — the coverstone is to the Staff of Ra what whatever-it-is is to the Ark of the Covenant.

Meyers whistles the tune from Raiders of the Lost Ark where the Nazis melt and everyone at the table chuckles.

BARBARA: Why don't we open up some, get to know a little more about each another? (turns to Meyers) I nominate Meyers.

MEYERS: (smiles) Oh, I don't think so, Doctor. It was your idea to open up; you start.

BARBARA: Oh, very well. (punches Meyers playfully in arm) As you can both doubtlessly guess, I'm a thoroughbred Texan through-and-through. I grew up on a ranch with my Mama and Pop — both of whom are still kickin', thank God — and my brothers Kenny and Laurel. Laurel has a daughter — my niece, Mistress — who's the cutest little carrot-top in pigtails. A bona fide Annie of Green Gables. (beat) She's just darlin'.

MEYERS: I don't like subscribing to stereotypes, but you don't strike me as the astrophysical type. What got you into the game?

BARBARA: I guess you could say I've always had a connective streak, for want of a better descriptor — an eye for connectin' the proverbial dots which make up our reality. (beat) It started when I was a little girl, just this little skinny thing of seven. The family had taken a trip to Florida, and one day at the beach I was just runnin' a stick through the wet sand of the shoreline — I had it in my head that this was the way to catch a fish — and I just happened to spy trash some litterbug had left in the sand. In my mind's eye, I saw an isosceles triangle — an honest-to-God isosceles triangle. Lord, it was frightenin'.

DANIEL: (incredulous) Frightened ... by a triangle.

BARBARA: (gives him evil eye) It's not that I saw a triangle; it's that I recognized the mathematical significance of it. Me, a girl of seven still learnin' how to carry numbers. (beat) I didn't understand it, but I could recognize it, and that's what scared me. (beat) But later it began to fascinate me. And the more it happened — in different places, different circumstances, with different shapes — the more fascinated I became. Here I was, seeing all these random, disconnected items joinin' together, forming concrete shapes ... shapes which were random, disconnected items in-and-of themselves, just waitin' to be interconnected in ever bigger shapes. (beat) I fell in love with discoverin' these shapes, of uncoverin' their secrets, of seein' the universe in its entirety. I suppose, in the end, I wanted to see my personal universe in its entirety as well. (beat) That's the cut-and-dry of it. (to Meyers) Now it's your turn, Big Bear.

MEYERS: (blushes) When it became apparent I'd never compare to Plácido Domingo, I went with my second love and chose the pursuit of comparative linguistics.

DANIEL: (deadpan) That's it?

BARBARA: (smirks) A man of few words, our darlin' Gary is.

MEYERS: (shrugs) What you see is what you get.

BARBARA: And other cliches, I'm sure.

Daniel chuckles. Meyers just frowns.

MEYERS: And what's your story?

Daniel falls silent and still, face going stoney.

BARBARA: (places hand on Daniel's shoulder) Hey, shug, don't become an icicle on us now.

DANIEL: As a kid, my biggest dream was to become a cartoonist. (beat) I'd gotten into comics when I was around six and I just fell in love with sequential art, but my parents were scholarly types; they tolerated my hobby but didn't exactly approve of it. (beat) The day came when I decided I wanted to take art lessons. Mom and Dad agreed to sign me up, but they kept putting it off. I got fed up with their excuses and one night I ... blew up, just had a great big tantrum. (beat) That was the evening of their flight.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Meyers reaches under his sweater and pulls out a bronze flask.

MEYERS: This is our first night as a team. I suggest we propose a toast. (unscrews cap) To Project Giza. (takes sip)

Meyers hands the flask to Barbara.

BARBARA: To Project Giza. (takes sip)

Barbara hands the flask to Daniel.

DANIEL: To Project Giza. (takes gulp)​


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A shot of Cheyenne Mountain silhouetted against a red sunset.



In the long months which have passed since Daniel, Meyers, and Barbara joined Project Giza, the entire layout of the coverstone room has changed. A portable stereo, a coffee machine, a small refrigerator, stacks of volumes on Egyptian hieroglyphs and other Near East writing systems, and a scaffold erected under the coverstone have all been brought in; the room has been wallpapered with charcoal rubbings and photo enlargements of the coverstone's engravings; and the floor — along with various available spaces — have been carpeted with discarded junk food packaging. Daniel and Meyers stand at a whiteboard inscribed with a copy of the coverstone's inner line of writing, arguing fiercely over how it should be translated, while Barbara tries — with faltering success — to ignore them and concentrate on the computer program she is running. The camaraderie the three scholars initially established is long gone.

DANIEL: (cont'd; angry) This is all wrong!

Daniel rubs away a word Meyers has written under a set of hieroglyphs — "TIME" — and replaces it with "YEARS".

MEYERS: (outraged) I beg your pardon!

DANIEL: You used Budge, didn't you? (aside) Why do they keep reprinting his books?

MEYERS: Just because you have an irrational disdain for conventional methodology —

DANIEL: (facepalms) Not this again. (beat) I do not have "an irrational disdain for conventional methodology."

MEYERS: (cont'd) Oh yes, you do! You're a hair's breadth away from being another Graham Hancock or Zecharia Sitchin!

DANIEL: Oh, great comparison, Meyers! Great! Why not go all out and brand me the Second Coming of Erich von Däniken‽

Meyers turns back to the whiteboard, pointing at a section Daniel has translated.

MEYERS: The word "qebeh" is followed by an adverbial "sedjemenef" with a "cleft" subject.


MEYERS: (incredulous) "In his sarcophagus"? (shakes head) I don't think so. I think "sealed and buried" is a little more accurate.

Meyers rubs out Daniel's translation, replacing it with his own. Daniel stares at the older man as if he just killed his beloved pet dog.

MEYERS: (triumphant) There! (beat) Beginning here, it reads: "THOUSANDS OF YEARS INTO THE SKY IS ATUM, FIRST GOD. SEALED AND BURIED FOR ALL TIME, HIS ..." (falters) door to heaven?

Daniel sighs dramatically, looking to the ceiling as if for deliverance from God Himself.

MEYERS: (strokes temple) No, that doesn't feel right to me. Maybe —

DANIEL: (losing control of temper) Give me that pen, you —!

The two men begin grappling for the whiteboard marker. Barbara — reaching the ends of her endurance — bolts upright from her station with a cry of frustration.

BARBARA: That's it! I've been listenin' to your bickerin' since the cock crowed! You wanna continue actin' like infantile asswipes‽ Fine! You can compare schlongs without me to referee. I'm goin' to bed.

With that final word, the tall raven-haired woman storms out, leaving the two men by themselves. After a moment they pull away from one another. Though the worst of their rage is spent, their eyes still burn with mutual resentment.

MEYERS: (holds marker out before Daniel's eyes) You want the marker, Little Orphan Danny? (hurls marker at whiteboard) There you have it!

With that final word, Meyers also storms off. He pushes through the twin doors the very moment Kawalsky enters balancing three trays of food on his arms, nearly knocking both the master sergeant and his load over.

KAWALSKY: Meyers! Hey, Meyers, dinner! Turn on back, man!

Meyers refuses to heed the military man's call. Shrugging as best as he can under the circumstances, Kawalsky makes his way into the interior of the room, setting two of the trays down on the edge of a table.

KAWALSKY: (holds tray out) Dinner, Jackson.

DANIEL: (moody) Good morning, Sergeant.

Daniel ignores the proffered food, choosing instead to make his way over to the scaffold.

KAWALSKY: It's almost 2000 hours. (looks at trash scattered throughout room; frowns) Why don't you guys clean this place up a little?

DANIEL: (climbing scaffold) That information is classified.

KAWALSKY: (rolls eyes) Give it a rest, Professor. (sets tray down on plastic crate) I'm going into town. Is there anything you need?

DANIEL: (looks down at Kawalsky from atop scaffold) Yeah. You could pick me up a point of reference. And maybe some context. (beat) No, seriously, Kawalsky, just give me ten minutes alone with the goddamn janitor. I'm sure he knows more about what was buried under this coverstone than I do.

KAWALSKY: (sighs) That might be true, but the janitorial staff has clearance.

DANIEL: Look, Sergeant, you people want me to solve this puzzle for you. You want me to decipher this stone that no one else has been able to read. But you won't give me enough information to do my job.

Kawalsky notices an untouched lunch tray sitting on the floor. Walking over to it, be bends down and picks up a cold sloppy joe, giving it a sniff.

KAWALSKY: Have you people got a problem with the food around here?

DANIEL: (cont'd) How about this. What if someone anonymously slipped an unauthorized copy of a report under my door? They'd never know who it was. They'd never even know I got it! I'd figure this thing out and we could all go home happy.

KAWALSKY: Jackson, do me a big favour and get off my back. You know I'm under the strictest orders.

DANIEL: So disobey orders!

KAWALSKY: (shakes head) It must be hard to always be the smartest guy in the room.

Swiping the bag of French fries from Daniel's tray, Kawalsky leaves. Exhausted, Daniel lies down on his back atop the scaffold, staring up at the ceiling.


The coverstone room, several hours later. Daniel is still there but has left the scaffold for a chair on the floor. A camcorder, set up on a tripod before him, is currently recording his latest log entry.

DANIEL: (cont'd) No matches whatsoever. I've yet again exhausted all reference material in comparing the symbols in the cartouche against all known writing samples from the period pre-&-post. Still no similarities. (beat) I'm never gonna get paid.

Daniel shuts the camera off. Stretching, he yawns, then gets up and lethargically staggers over to the coffee machine. As he picks the pot up, he finds it all but empty.


Daniel exits the coverstone room, the empty coffee pot dangling at his side. Making his way down the empty corridor, he passes the night guard — Airman 1st Class Higgens — who is stationed at his desk post.

A1C HIGGENS: What's up, Doc?

DANIEL: How's it hangin', Higgens?

Daniel stops at a water fountain. Placing the rim of the pot under the spout, he begins filling it with water. Waiting for the pot to fill, Daniel glances back at Higgens. The guard is reading a paperback novel: Stargate by Pauline Gedge. Brow furrowing, Daniel stops filling the coffee pot and places it on the floor. Sauntering over to Higgens, he leans in over him, scrutinizing the book cover closely.

DANIEL: Good book?


Without another word, Daniel hurries back to the coverstone room.


Daniel strides over to the whiteboard he and Meyers had been arguing over earlier. Picking up a fresh marker, he rubs his tired face, regarding the "DOOR TO HEAVEN" translation Meyers himself had felt inadequate. With only a second's hesitation he erases the line, replacing it with one of his own.

Completely and accurately translated, the inscription now reads: "THOUSANDS OF YEARS INTO THE SKY IS ATUM, FIRST GOD. SEALED AND BURIED FOR ALL TIME, HIS STARGATE."


The interior of the coverstone room, which has undergone a dramatic transformation since we saw it last. Though still cluttered with tools, equipment, documents, and various knick-knacks, the floors — and various other surfaces — have been swept clean of junk food packaging. The only person in the room is Barbara, who is busy running another computer analysis on the coverstone's concentric lines.


The twin doors swing open and Daniel comes sauntering in. The Egyptologist has undergone a stunning transformation since we saw him last. With a short, stylish haircut, new glasses, and an outfit consisting of a black turleneck sweater worn with crisp blue jeans and blue high-top sneakers, he looks like an entirely different person.

DANIEL: (nods to Barbara) Good morning, Barb.

BARBARA: (raises hand) Mornin', Danny-boy.

DANIEL: (looks about room) Where's Meyers?

BARBARA: McKay's suspicions proved correct. The lemon chicken's not to be trusted.

DANIEL: (pained) Ouch!

Walking over to the bookcase, Daniel regards the titles on the shelf.

DANIEL: We really need to get some new books.

Barbara half-smiles.

DANIEL: (approaches Barbara) So, how are the new calculations coming along?

BARBARA: (sighs) We'll just have to wait and see.

DANIEL: (looks at coverstone) I thought decoding the hieroglyphic text would lead us to the answers we've been seeking, but it's only brought more questions.

BARBARA: Well, I'm takin' a break.

Sliding over to another computer, she opens a web browser.

DANIEL: (cocks eyebrow) Taking a break? We just got here.

BARBARA: (chooses search engine) You just got here. I've been runnin' P-TMPJDOPERW/53669 since 0530.

DANIEL: (watching Barbara surf 'Net) I'm surprised we've been able to get away with surfing the Internet on company hours.

BARBARA: I suppose allowin' me to ogle jpgs of Crissy Moran fingerin' herself is their way of saying "We're sorry for giving you the shaft."

Daniel cocks an eyebrow at her comment.

BARBARA: Just a little dirty humour for a dirty mornin', as my ex used to say. I'm 100.96% AC.

Focusing her attention back to her computer, she types "UHoroscope" into the search bar and presses "ENTER". Her screen immediately goes black and a white diagram of the Zodiac fades into existence. There, arranged in a ring around an anthropomorphized sun, are the signs for Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces.

DANIEL: (scrutinizes computer screen) An astrophysicist who follows astrology. That's got to be up there with fundagelicals who believe God is dead.

BARBARA: (smiles) I know it's all just so much bunk, but what can I say? I've always had a superstitious streak.

Daniel rolls his eyes good-naturedly then leaves Barbara to her hobby. As he passes the table stacked with photos and documents, he suddenly halts. There, out in full view, is a photograph of the coverstone's inner ring of marked-off concentric lines. Turning from the photo, he looks up at the coverstone itself, eyeing the physical etchings. Without haste, he picks the photo up and rushes back to Barbara's side.

DANIEL: (sets photo down between Barbara and keyboard) Barbara, look at this.

BARBARA: (looks at photograph) The ring of concentric lines. (eyes Daniel) We've been introduced.

DANIEL: (points at screen) Look.


DANIEL: Can't you see it?

Barbara looks back to the photo, then to the computer screen, then back to the photo. She doesn't get what Daniel is driving at. Suddenly, her eyes light up with understanding. The images of the coverstone's ring of lines and the Zodiac diagram are unmistakably similar.

DANIEL: Remember the last line in the inscription? Of the stargate?

BARBARA: You think the lines make up some sort of early Zodiac, a diagram of the stars?

DANIEL: A gateway to the stars.

Without a moment's hesitation, Barbara returns to the computer she was working on earlier, cancelling the run of P-TMPJDOPERW/53669. Typing a command into the keyboard, she calls up a fresh display of the coverstone's concentric lines.

DANIEL: Remember, if this is a star map, it'll be a map of the stars as they were seen ten thousand years ago. You'll have to adjust for stellar drift.

BARBARA: You don't have to remind this astrophysicist of that, Danny-boy.

Barbara goes to the menu of the computer program she is running and chooses an option. Seconds later it begins comparing the concentric lines to the night sky of Egypt as seen in 8000 BCE. The analysis soon ends, "NO MATCHES FOUND" appearing on the screen in big red letters.

BARBARA: Maybe we're underestimatin' the original designers. We're assumin' they operated on the same limited playing field other primitive cultures operated under, but maybe they didn't. (beat) This could still be a star map, just not meant to be viewed on a two-dimensional plane.

Barbara enters new commands in the computer program. Almost immediately, the ring of concentric lines is realigned into a series of three-dimensional forms and compared against star charts of the nearby galactic neighbourhood in the same configurations. After a few minutes the simulation comes to an end. "ONE MATCH FOUND" appears on the screen in big green letters.

BARBARA: (grins) Tiger, we've just hit the jackpot!

There, displayed in ultra-high definition, is a spherical map of the Milky Way Galaxy 7000 light-years out from Earth. An uneven blue line — starting at Earth and running out to various stars and systems before coming to an end-point in the constellation Auriga — runs through the length of the map.

BARBARA: It's locked onto a point in the M37 cluster. (beat) That's on the other side of the galaxy.

Daniel looks up at the coverstone, focusing on the central cartouche containing the eight unusual glyphs.​


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Arriving from beyond the checkpoint, a black Cadillac limousine pulls into the tunnel and comes to a stop at the complex entrance. The doors swing open and SEVERAL HIGH-RANKING OFFICERS from all over the country and different branches of the military step out into the open. At the centre of this group, a pace ahead of the others, is GENERAL W. O. WEST himself. In his mid-sixties with iron gray hair and a mustache over a firm upper lip, he is a man respected and feared by those who serve under his command.


Capt. O'Neal stands at attention before the closed elevator doors of Level 27, hands clasped tightly behind his back as he stares fixedly at the red-orange numbers counting down on the readout above. Once the readout falls on 27, the doors slide open, allowing West and his cadre out into the open corridor. Finding the captain there, the general approaches him, reaching out to shake the younger man's hand.

GEN. WEST: (grins) Jack O'Neal. How the hell've you been, airman?

O'NEAL: (deadpan) I've been good.

Turning around, O'Neal, West, and the other high-ranking officers begin walking up the corridor.

GEN. WEST: How's Sarah? I've heard you two haven't been on the best of terms since you took this assignment.

O'NEAL: (blunt) We're separated.

GEN. WEST: I'm sorry to hear that.

O'NEAL: Some days are better than others, but I'm getting used to it.

Coming to a fork in the corridor, the troupe of military men make a turn to the left.

GEN. WEST: (under breath) I've got a few things to tell you that I couldn't put in the report.


Daniel and Barbara take an alternate route to the same destination O'Neal and the others are headed for. Barbara carries an external hard disk drive under her arm with stoic grace while Daniel sips from a mug of coffee nervously. They soon come to their destination. Standing at the door is Kawalsky, who greets them both with a casual smile. As they file past him into the room beyond, Daniel hands his mug out to the big sergeant.

DANIEL: Uh, here, can you take this?

Kawalsky accepts the mug with all the enthusiasm of a parent having to handle their baby's used diapers.


As Barbara and Daniel enter the long, rectangular room, the Egyptologist's lips go thin with trepidation when he sees who is in wait for them at the long red-&-black conference table. Having expected to meet with West in relative privacy with maybe one or two other officers, he's unprepared for the large number of military personnel and scientific staff who have come to hear what he and Dr. Shore have to say. Among those who have come to learn what the two scholars have uncovered is Meyers, O'Neal, and Maj. Anderman.

As Barbara and Daniel enter the briefing room, Kawalsky comes in after them, shutting the door behind him. Those gathered around the table take their seats, except for Karin and Gen. West, who turn to acknowledge the two scholars.

KARIN: (waves them over) Daniel, Barbara, there's someone I'd like you to meet. (gestures to general) This is Gen. West.

Daniel and Barbara take their turns shaking the general's hand.

GEN. WEST: (eyes Daniel) Pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor. (turns to other attendees in room) All right, everybody, we've come a long way to hear this. Let's get down to it and see what these two scholars have for us.

Going to the front of the room where a whiteboard is affixed to the wall, the two ready their presentation. Setting her external drive down at the corner of the head of the table, she connects it to a laptop computer and turns it on, causing the overhead lights to automatically die. Prepared to deliver their presentation, the two scholars stand there, the bright light from the overhead projector falling upon them, regarding their audience silently for a sign to proceed.

GEN. WEST: (sour) Any time.

DANIEL: Barbara?

Barbara opens the file of their presentation. Seconds later a diagram of the coverstone is projected onto the whiteboard surface. Daniel and Barbara step aside to allow the others an unobstructed view of the image.

BARBARA: What we're lookin' at here is obviously a diagram of the coverstone.

DANIEL: The figures in the outer track, which we assumed were words to be translated, aren't, in fact, fragments of an unknown language. They're digits or formulae.

Barbara bends over the laptop and hits a key. The projected image is enlarged, the central cartouche and surrounding bands of glyphs dissolving to show the details of the innermost ring containing the concentric lines.

BARBARA: We discovered the band of concentric lines was actually an abstract map of interstellar space.

She hits another key and the ring of lines is reshaped into a spherical map of the interstellar space containing Earth and Messier 37.

BARBARA: (cont'd) When aligned in a three-dimensional configuration, the intersectin' points of the lines correspond to stars located between Earth and Messier 37, in the positions they would've been in ten thousand years ago.

Barbara hits another key and a blue line runs from Earth to a number of stars before reaching a system in Messier 37.

BARBARA: (cont'd) The marked points represent a route between our two systems.

Barbara hits a key and the map is replaced with a large image of the coverstone's central cartouche.

DANIEL: Now, if we're right, the cartouche that runs down the centre of the coverstone organizes eight of these symbols into a unique sequential order, forming an address corresponding to this location.

Their presentation finished, Barbara closes the program and closes her laptop. The overhead projector shuts down and the overhead lights come back up. The Egyptologist  and astrophysicist regard their audience, waiting for a reaction.

KARIN: (smiles) They did it.

BLONDE SCIENTIST: (excited) We suspected the device worked in such a fashion ever since Dr. Jackson decoded the hieroglyphic text. This confirms it.

DANIEL: Device?

BARBARA: What device?

A number of attendees, mostly military officers, give the female scientist the evil eye. Realizing she has let slip classified information in her exuberance, her face flushes with dread.

KARIN: (smirks) I imagine you'll have to show them now, General.

Gen. West, his stoney poker face unbroken, exchanges glances with O'Neal, who has been standing with Kawalsky at the back of the room this whole time. O'Neal, his own face set in implacable stone, merely shrugs.

GEN. WEST: (to Kawalsky) Show them.

Nodding, Kawalsky walks over to a switch box set in the wall. As he presses the green button, the whiteboard at the head of the room retracts up into the wall, uncovering a Plexiglas bay window behind it. Turning around, the two scholars move in close, their jaws dropping agape as they see what lies beyond. Meyers, not wanting to miss the action, quickly rises from his chair and joins them at the window.

Beyond the pane of Plexiglas is a large room. A former missile silo, it has been reconfigured to house something with far greater dangerous potential. Standing near the far back end of the room, held erect by four pneumatic support arms with a steel ramp running through its torus, is the unusual stone ring recovered from the Giza Plateau several decades ago, its black substance now cleaned and polished, contours gleaming with iridescence.

MEYERS: What the hell is it?

DANIEL: (awestruck) It's our stargate.

Karin, who has remained seated this whole time, turns to Gen. West, an eyebrow arched. Without a single word being said, he understands what it is she wants.

GEN. WEST: Go ahead.

She smiles.


Having come down a spiral staircase, Karin, Daniel, Barbara, and Meyers enter the operations room. Located directly beneath the briefing room, the operations room is lined wall-to-wall with advanced computer equipment and staffed with a handful of civilian technicians. Sitting at a large computer console set up in front of a large bay window overlooking the gate room is MITCH STOREY and JENNY TAYLOR-ALLAN, the two senior technicians responsible for operating the stargate itself.

KARIN: Let's give the wheel a spin.

MITCH: No problem.

Mitch enters a command into the console and an apparatus of motorized rubber wheels clamped around the bottom portion of the stargate begins turning the heavy inner ring in a slow clockwise direction.

MEYERS: You found this thing in Egypt?

KARIN: Yes. My father found it buried under the coverstone when I was a child. It's composed of a crystalline element unlike any found on Earth. (beat) Okay, Mitch, let's take it for a test drive.

Mitch enters a new command into the console, initializing the dialling sequence which will encode the eight symbol address into the stargate. The ring turns until the tile bearing the first glyph is positioned under the topmost jewel, at which point both it and the bottom left jewel split open, the central crystals, the engraved grooves running along the sides of the jewels, and the glyph tile lighting up white. The jewels snap closed and a low harmonic hum begins resonating from the gate.

JENNY: Chevron One is holding. Chevron One is locked in place.

The topmost chevron goes dark again and the ring slides to the next glyph. As the next three glyphs are entered into the gate, with Jenny calling each one out, the harmonic tone emanating from the stargate builds in both pitch and volume.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Five is holding. Chevron Five is locked in place.

As the fifth chevron is engaged, the tone coming from the gate changes to such a pitch and volume that both the room containing it along with the operations room begin vibrating, causing everything not bolted or otherwise secured down to dance and jitter around. As Mitch's open can of root beer rattles its way off its perch, Daniel grabs it, keeping its contents from spilling.

MITCH: Gracias.

DANIEL: De nada.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Six is holding. Chevron Six is locked in place.

MEYERS: (worried) I take it these vibrations are a natural part of the gate's operation?

KARIN: This is why we've never entered the full combination before; we were fearful the device was a weapon. We put it off until we could learn more.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Seven is holding. Chevron Seven is locked in place.

As the rooms continue rattling, the eighth symbol in the address is rolled into position under the topmost chevron. Both it and the top right chevron snap open, lighting up along with the glyph tile.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Eight is holding….

The two chevrons snap shut and the harmonic tone again builds. The topmost chevron goes dark.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Eight is locked in place.

The personnel in the operations room take in one, collective breath, anticipating the end result of the dialling sequence. Nothing happens. The stargate — eight of its nine chevrons and eight of its thirty-nine glyphs glowing white — just stands there, motionless. After a minute the stargate disengages, the chevrons and glyphs returning to their previous dark state, the harmonic tones dying to nothing. Everyone in the operations room releases a collective sigh, clearly disappointed.

BARBARA: (dumbfounded) The map, the translation ... we were certain!

Daniel just stares at the ring of iridescent black stone, his right hand on his hip and his left on the back of his head. Uncertain, he turns to Mitch.

DANIEL: Start the ring back up.

Mitch turns to Karin, eyes inquiring.

KARIN: (shrugs) Humour him.

Mitch obeys. Once again the inner ring spins. Eyes intent on the centre monitor, Daniel watches as the glyph tiles slide across the screen. As a certain glyph slides into position, the Egyptologist holds his hand up.


Mitch complies and the ring freezes. There, front-and-centre, is a glyph resembling a large inverted "V" with a small circle perched atop it.


A shot of the coverstone's cartouche.

There, situated directly beneath the cartouche, is a hieroglyphic depiction of two human figures with tall staffs at hand standing on either side of a pyramid.


A close-up of Daniel's face.

DANIEL: I can't believe we missed it!


Daniel turns away from the monitor to his three colleagues.

DANIEL: The combination consists of nine symbols, not eight! We were missing the ninth symbol!

MEYERS: But there's only eight symbols in the cartouche.

DANIEL: No, no, don't you see? The ninth symbol isn't in the cartouche — it's below it!

Turning back to Mitch, Daniel reaches into the front pocket of the senior technician's denim vest and pulls out a fat black permanent marker. Uncapping it, he begins drawing on the monitor displaying the arrow-shaped glyph.

MITCH: (alarmed) Hey, hey —!

On both sides of the glyph, Daniel draws a pair of stick figures holding staffs.

DANIEL: Two figures ... praying beside a pyramid ... with the sun directly above it.

Karin, Barbara, and Meyers close in around the Egyptologist, peering at his handiwork. With Daniel's additions, the glyph is now an almost-exact copy of the engraving under the cartouche.

MEYERS: He's right.

BARBARA: Can we be sure the sequence is complete now?

KARIN: Only one way to find out. (beat) Mitch?

Mitch programs the ninth glyph into the computer then reinitializes the dialling sequence. Once again the inner ring rotates, Jenny calling out as each glyph in the address is encoded into the stargate. As the chevrons lock on, the harmonic tones and vibrations build anew.

The first eight symbols have been entered into the stargate, leaving only the ninth symbol. It's wheeled up under the topmost chevron, lighting up as the pronged clamp snaps open then closed again.

JENNY: (cont'd) Chevron Nine is holding. Chevron Nine is locked in place.

The harmonic tone issuing from the stargate reaches its crescendo as the remaining thirty glyphs and all the designs etched on the stargate's surface light up white. Without warning, silver energy comes swirling into existence within the mouth of the stargate, cascading into a churning pool of glowing mercury which then bursts outward like a geyser turned on end, rushing with a big kawoosh for the operation room bay window. Several of the personnel leap back, crying out at the approaching torrent of incoming energy. Just as quickly as it came shooting out, however, the windsock of liquid energy reverses itself back into the torus of the stargate, forming a vertical pool of gently rippling silver light. Behind that pool stretches an invisible corridor leading to a destination 4,500 light-years distant.

MITCH: Tres cool.

A phone hanging on the wall left of the bay window starts ringing. Karin picks up the receiver.



Gen. West, O'Neal, and Maj. Anderman stand at the bay window, looking down at the stargate. Anderman is the man talking to Karin over the phone.

MAJ. ANDERMAN: Send in the probe.


The large, thick door to the room slides open, allowing ten armed airmen inside. As they take positions around the gate, their guns levelled at the glowing puddle, a pair of officers wheel a Mobile Analytical Laboratory Probe — or MALP — into the room. Positioning it before the ramp leading into the stargate, they switch control over to an operations room technician.


MAJ. ANDERMAN: Record all information from the stargate.


Its treads rotating, the MALP rolls forward, climbing the ramp to the open stargate. As it reaches the rippling mirror-like surface of the puddle, it stops. Moving forward to the liquid energy, the mechanized arm immerses itself in the puddle with an accompanying electric sizzle. As the arm disappears past the torus of the gate, the technician in control of the MALP kicks it into overdrive, pushing the probe in after its arm on a course for the unknown.


Her dialogue with Anderman finished, Karin hangs up the phone, focusing her attention back on the stargate.

KARIN: (to Daniel) It's starting to get exciting, isn't it?

DANIEL: (to Mitch) What's happening now?

MITCH: We're waiting to see if the probe can send data back through the gate.

DANIEL: (turns to Karin) How long have you people been working on this?

KARIN: The stargate was unearthed when I was ten years old, but the Egyptian government didn't release it until '83. Then we had to wait for the British to hand it over. When we finally got hold of the gate, we had to wait to get our financing.

JENNY: Something's coming through!

Everyone in the room, their eyes transfixed on the monitors, watch as the first images from a world 4,500 light-years away come to life on the primary monitors. There, from the MALP's point-of-view, can be seen the walls of a stone chamber stretching past a peculiar-looking pedestal to a ramp to a second chamber beyond.

DANIEL: (points at pedestal) What is that? Can you zoom in?

The image of the pedestal grows larger as the MALP's camera zooms in. While its ultimate function still cannot be determined, it's clearly composed of the same iridescent black stone as the stargate, its engravings resonating the same white light.

DANIEL: Could we get a better look at it? Wheel past it then turn around?

The MALP starts forward and without much effort is directed around the pedestal. As the camera swivels around, the people watching the monitors are afforded a clear view of the pedestal. On a slanted, pronged dais, two rings of thirty-eight panels are arranged around a glowing white central hemisphere, each panel engraved with glowing glyphs identical to those found on the Earth stargate.

KARIN: (awed) That was what was missing at the dig at Giza. That was what they used to control it.

MEYERS: Let's get a look at the gate itself.

The operator pans upward away from the pedestal, affording them a clear image of the activate stargate on the other side. Like the Earth stargate, it is installed close to the back of its room, a short platform of steps leading into the energy-filled torus. As the operator starts zooming in on the stone ring, the picture grows fuzzy.

JENNY: We're losing the signal.

The stargate disengages, the energy pool unravelling into nothingness, the chevrons and engravings going dark.


Daniel, Barbara, and Meyers sit on the left side of the conference table, Gen. West, O'Neal, and Maj. Anderman on the right. At the head of the room, data recorded by the MALP is being projected onto the whiteboard.

MAJ. ANDERMAN: The readings tell us it's an atmospheric match. Barometric pressure, temperature, and — most importantly — oxygen. (beat) At precisely 0600 hours tomorrow, we'll re-establish contact with the probe and, provided we get it into the open, set it to make a quarter-mile perimetre sweep of the surrounding area. Once six months have elapsed, we'll re-establish contact again to download the collected data.

GEN. WEST: We're planning a short reconnaissance mission as follow-up to the probe's survey — nothing fancy. Provided no hazards are detected, an away team will be sent through to trace the probe's steps, gather whatever new intel there is to be found, then bring it back.

MAJ. ANDERMAN: However, once on the other side we'd have to decipher the markings on the gate and, in essence, dial home in order to bring the team back.

GEN. WEST: But here's the thing — I'm not going to send our men over there unless I'm sure I can bring them back. The question is, can any of you do it?

MEYERS: Why not try re-establishing contact from this side?

O'NEAL: Because once our team goes through, the entire facility will be evacuated and sealed. We don't know what might come through the other side.

BARBARA: (shrugs) Based on this new information, I don't see how we can do that. (beat) It took decades to decode the stargate with a point of reference to work from on this end; it'll be next to impossible to recreate our success on an alien world without one. We'd need —

DANIEL: (confident) I could do it.


GEN. WEST: Are you sure?

MEYERS: General, I may be the proverbial fifth wheel on this team —

DANIEL: (answering West) Positive.

The general exchanges glances with O'Neal.

O'NEAL: It's your call.

GEN. WEST: (to Daniel) You're on the team.

BARBARA: (shakes head) Daniel doesn't have the expertise to make a call —

GEN. WEST: (raises hand) I'm pleased with the results you've brought in, Dr. Shore, and both you and Dr. Meyers should be proud of the work you've done here. (beat) However, the time has come to pack your bags and leave this base, because officially as of now, you have both been discharged from this project.

MEYERS: (dumbfounded) You're firing us?

GEN. WEST: (blunt) Yes.

BARBARA: (angry) What game are you playin' here, Daniel?

DANIEL: I translated the text on the coverstone. I figured out the inner band was a map —

BARBARA: (enraged) We got as far as we did workin' as a team! You damn well know that! (beat) You're full of shit!

GEN. WEST: Dr. Shore, if you're finished —

BARBARA: (bears teeth) I'm not finished, big boy. Not by a long shot. (to Meyers) Let's blow this sausage fest.

Rising from their seats, the astrophysicist and comparative linguist storm out of the room. Daniel watches them go, the haughty expression on his face changing to one of discomfiture.​


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Entering the bare concrete room, O'Neal walks over to the far end, where a guard sits at a desk before a sealed blast door. Rising to his feet, the guard raises his hand in a salute. Returning the salute, O'Neal reaches over and picks the register up from the desk, signing it. Once the guard goes over O'Neal's signature, he presses a large red button set in the top of his desk. With a low grinding, the blast door rises, revealing a smaller alcove beyond.

Stepping into the alcove, O'Neal peers in at its sole attraction: the otherworldly set of fossils recovered from the Langford excavation, installed against the back wall. Approaching the petrified creature, O'Neal narrows his gaze, scrutinizing its dark eyes and sharp beak.


A framed photograph retreating into a background of bright blue sky with puffy white clouds.

The photograph is of an eight-year-old Jonathan "Jack" O'Neal with his mother, father, two younger sisters, and older brother; while they are all smiling and dressed in white, he is sullen and dressed in black. As the photo grows ever-smaller, the background darkens until it turns pure black. Once the photo becomes a distant pinpoint, white cracks zigzag out from the centre of the background and the heretofore unseen pane of glass shatters into thousands of jagged shards.


The front window of a small, pink house behind a white picket fence shatters, raining shards of glass onto the beautiful red flowers planted below. Jack O'Neal, about fourteen years old, is standing outside the picket fence, bending down to pick up another stone to throw, when the front door swings open. The owner of the house — a spindly lady of late middle age done up like a 1950s housewife with dyed red hair — comes storming out, waving a broom above her head.

MIDDLE-AGED HOUSEWIFE: Goddamn you to hell, you little catamite!

As the woman makes her way down her front steps, Jack takes off in a run, laughing at the strife he has caused.


Jack O'Neal, now sixteen, is riffling through an ornate box placed on the mantle in the dark, looking for valuable items worth stealing. As he finds $900, he stuffs the money in his pants and turns to leave. As he moves toward the window he entered, a large rottweiler springs out of the shadows, growling as it lunges at the juvenile burglar. Spinning around, the surprised teen lashes out at the dog with his flashlight. Yelping, the canine collapses to the floor.


Jack, now eighteen, is with two other thugs, accosting a pretty young woman with short red hair, a black shirt, and red pants. While O'Neal is only interested in her purse, his two acquaintances have more than theft in mind.

O'NEAL: (uncomfortable) C'mon, guys, cut the shit. We got what we need. Let's get outta here before somebody catches us.

THUG #1: (sneers) Why? Red here not man enough for you, Jack?

RED: (struggles against thugs) Motherfuckers!

As the second thug covers her mouth, the first unzips his fly. Before either thug can do anything further, two uniformed police officers spring out from around the corner, revolvers drawn.

COP #1: Freeze!

Releasing Red, the thugs take off. O'Neal, moving too slow to follow, takes a bullet in the ass and goes down. O'Neal out of commission, the first cop goes off in pursuit of the thugs while his partner stays behind to read the juvenile delinquent his rights.


Jack O'Neal, still eighteen, stands in court before a stern-faced judge.

JUDGE: Which will it be: enlistment in the armed forces or a year in the Washington State Correctional System?

O'NEAL: (resigned) Enlistment. (beat) Your Honour.


Now a USAF trainee, O'Neal is receiving his first crew cut.


We watch O'Neal as he is trained in infiltration, wilderness survival, assassination, the manufacture and detonation of explosives, and the blending of chemical weapons from common household materials.


A couple of years have passed, and an older, far more disciplined Staff Sergeant Jack O'Neal now stands before his commanding officer: Colonel W. O. West.

COL. WEST: Welcome to Jump Two Company, Sergeant O'Neal.

The two airmen salute.


O'Neal and West in the same office, but some months later under different circumstances.

COL. WEST: (hands folder to O'Neal) This is your target, Jack.

O'Neal opens the folder and pulls out a large photograph of a Middle Eastern man sporting a toothbrush mustache.

COL. WEST: (cont'd) He's not to live out the week. Do you understand?

O'NEAL: (nods once) Yes, sir.


SSgt. O'Neal carries out a series of political assassinations. Interspersed between these images of murder are images of O'Neal consuming large quantities of scotch whisky.


On O'Neal's head back-lit with blue light, his bloodshot eyes glowing red. Countless ghostly heads spin about him in a whirlwind, grinning ghastily.

DISEMBODIED VOICE #4: (V.O.) We call him "Voodoo" 'cause he only seems to come to life when Jump Two goes into action….

GHOSTS: Voodoo, Voodoo, Voodoo, Voodoo….


A close-up of Sarah Langenkamp's face, lit up with life and happiness.


As Sarah and a friend make their way down the steps from one of the campus buildings, O'Neal — face downcast, attention elsewhere — walks straight into her. Colliding, the man and woman both topple to the pavement.

SARAH: (angry) Why don't you watch where you're going, jarhead‽

Rising to his feet, O'Neal goes to assist her, a sheepish expression on his face.

O'NEAL: Sorry — I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention ...

As the sergeant helps Sarah to her feet, the two students make eye contact.

O'NEAL: (cont'd) to my surroundings.

SARAH: (frowning & smiling) It's ... alright, okay.

Seeing her heartwarming smile, O'Neal can't help but smile in return.


We watch O'Neal and Sarah send more time with one another. Starting off as mere acquaintances, they soon become close friends and, finally, intimate lovers.


O'Neal and Sarah stand facing one another, faces serious. As Sarah looks down at her flat belly, placing a hand on it, O'Neal flies into a sudden rage.

O'NEAL: (shouting) You did this on purpose! You did this to me on purpose! You did this to trick me into marrying you! But I'm not going to, Sarah, you got that‽ I'm not going to!

Sarah, tears welling up in her eyes, says nothing.


Sarah is in their bedroom, stuffing items into a large suitcase.


O'Neal, seated at a small table, morose, pours himself a glass of whisky. As he overfills it, spilling whisky over the side, he picks it up and lifts it to his eye. As he looks into the golden brown liquid, the morose expression on his face changes to one of determination. Without a word, he hurls the glass away from him. As the glass hits the far wall, it shatters, splashing whisky everywhere.


As blizzard winds and snow beat against the house, O'Neal's car pulls into the driveway.


Sarah, pulling a curtain back, peeks out the window at the car parked outside. Turning from the cold glass, she looks at her parents, who are seated in matching armchairs.


The front door of the house swings open, and Sarah — clad in a purple parka — steps out. Closing the door, she approaches the car.


O'Neal and Sarah seated in the car behind fogged up windows, arguing fiercely.


Sarah — along with O'Neal — enter the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Langenkamp — still seated in their armchairs — have fallen asleep. The two walk over to them.

SARAH: (shaking them) Mom, Dad — wake up. Wake up!

MR. LANGENKAMP: (awakens) What's the time?

SARAH: I have someone I'd like you to meet.

O'Neal steps forward, offering the two older people his outstretched hand. Tentative, they both take turns shaking his hand.

O'NEAL: I'm Jonathan O'Neal. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir and ma'am.

SARAH: (nudges him with elbow) Tell them.

O'NEAL: Sir — ma'am — I'm pleased to say that your daughter and I are getting married. (beat) We'd like your blessing.  


O'Neal and Sarah walk down the aisle.


A close-up of O'Neal's lips against Sarah's ear.

O'NEAL: (whispering) I promise that I'll love you and cherish you now until the day I die, not a moment sooner.


Sarah O'Neal, heavily pregnant and in labour, is sitting up in her hospital bed, sweating and breathing heavily with medical staff and her husband surrounding her. Gritting her teeth, she groans as she pushes, and soon the groan builds to a cry of anguish. It all soon comes to a climax as the baby slides out into the doctor's arms.

DOCTOR: (turns to O'Neal) It's a boy.

O'NEAL: (grins) Hello, Tyler Charles O'Neal. Welcome to the brave new world.


Tyler O'Neal, celebrating his sixth birthday, sits at the centre of the room surrounded by friends and family. O'Neal, watching the boy rip into his first present, turns to his wife with tears of happiness in his eyes. Meeting his gaze, Sarah smiles back.


O'Neal stands before West's desk, looking down at the colonel who is seated behind it.

O'NEAL: (blunt) I want out of Jump Two, Wald.

COL. WEST: You're not serious, Jack. You're our best, our go-to guy.

O'NEAL: (frowns) Then you'll have to find yourself another "go-to guy", Colonel, 'cause I'm out. There's too much blood on my hands. I don't know if I can ever wash them clean, but I owe it to Sarah, to Ty, to try.

COL. WEST: (sighs) I won't back you into a corner, Jack. (beat) But know this: personnel of your calibre never really retire. One day you'll be called on for another mission. If you want to do it or not, it doesn't matter; Uncle Sam's gonna have his way with you.


O'Neal and a twelve-year-old Tyler are playing softball out in the sun.


The back yard to the front yard.

We are now several months into the future. O'Neal, behind the wheel of a minivan, pulls into the driveway. Opening the door, he steps out.

O'NEAL: You out here, Ty? Let's not be late for the game.

Leaning into the minivan, O'Neal honks the horn to rouse his son. When he gets no result, he jogs up to the front of the house.


O'NEAL: Son, you in here? Ty?

Finding the living room deserted, O'Neal leaves for Tyler's bedroom.


O'Neal opens the door to his son's bedroom and peers inside. Though Tyler's softball jersey hangs off the back of his chair, Tyler himself isn't present. Worry creasing his face, O'Neal closes the door.


O'Neal barges into the room, eyes focusing on the nightstand on Sarah's side of their bed. The nightstand's drawer hangs ominously open.


O'Neal runs up the corridor, panicking.


O'Neal bursts through the back porch door, breaking the screen door off its hinges. Racing down the steps, his eyes focus on something lying out on the grass.

O'NEAL: (shouting) Tyler? Tyler!


On Tyler O'Neal's still figure sprawled on the grass. Half-dressed for his softball game, his father's gun sits in his right hand, his head bloody.

As O'Neal runs over to the corpse of his dead son, a piercing siren — one borne of O'Neal's own fractured mind — wails through the atmosphere, muffling all other sounds. Reaching Tyler's body, O'Neal drops to his knees beside it, his mouth twitching involuntarily. Taking his son in his arms, tears streaming down his face, O'Neal throws his head back, releasing a tortured, soul-shattering scream.


O'Neal, dressed in his black funeral clothes, stands facing the living room mantle, hand gripped around his Smith & Wesson — the same weapon which took his son's life. Pulling the Model 29's hammer back, he places the barrel of the gun under his chin as he looks upon a photo atop the mantle. It is a photo of Sarah in happier times, grinning into the camera.


A close-up of Sarah's face, bathed in harsh red light, as she screams.


O'Neal, his gun hand trembling.


The photo of Sarah.


To a crucifix hanging in place on the wall above the photo.


O'Neal, disgusted with himself, disarming the weapon and tossing it aside.


O'Neal stands in the open door of his bedroom, looking in on Sarah, who is seated on the bed. Shortly after the visit with Anderman and the other officer, O'Neal's hair is still long. He is shaved and showered, though, and clad in his crisp officer's uniform. His expression sullen, he watches Sarah seated on the bed, sobbing into her hands. He wants to say something, anything, to his wife, but upon opening his mouth, he clams up. Resigned, he turns away and silently leaves.


Gen. West now stands beside the captain inside the alcove with the fossils.

GEN. WEST: (regards fossils) Our people tell me this thing used to be alive.

O'NEAL: I thought I was doing this alone.

GEN. WEST: (turns to him) And you will. (beat) As soon as the team completes their survey, you'll be on your own.

O'NEAL: The more people we send through, the greater the chances something's gonna go wrong. And Jackson could be a problem. He's smart. He won't go along with this plan if he figures it out.

GEN. WEST: Then it's your job to make sure he doesn't.

O'NEAL: (turns to West) General, you've opened up a doorway to a world we know nothing about.​


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Daniel is inside his quarters, packing various books and other items of importance into a large trunk. As he places two final items — the photo of his foster parents along with a photo of his real ones — in the trunk, he hears a knock at his door.

DANIEL: (bemused) I'll be ready in a second.

KARIN: (O.C.) It's me, Daniel.

DANIEL: Oh! (turns to door) Come in.

The door opens and Karin strides in. Closing the door, she crosses her arms across her chest. We see here that Karin's physical condition has changed in the preceding six months. Dark circles have developed around her eyes; she has lost weight; her hair has thinned.

KARIN: (smirks) I thought you didn't like to travel.

DANIEL: (grins) I got over it. (loses grin) Have you heard from Barbara or Meyers?

KARIN: (shakes head) I haven't been in contact with them since West fired them from the project. Why?

DANIEL: Nevermind….

KARIN: You've been having doubts, haven't you?

DANIEL: Wouldn't you?

KARIN: West may be pig-headed, but he isn't stupid. If he had any concerns at all about your ability to decode the alien gate, he wouldn't have put you to the job.

DANIEL: I could have really used Barbara's expertise. She's made it her life's work to understand the physics behind things like the stargate.

KARIN: The first time I saw that ring being dragged out of the dust in Egypt, I knew something like this would happen — that there would be some incredible journey to be taken. And, naturally, I thought it would be I who would take it. (beat) But I'm not as healthy as I used to be, so it's going to be you instead of me. (beat) It has to be you.

Karin unfastens the gold pendant from around her neck, handing it to Daniel.

KARIN: This was found with the stargate. It has always brought me luck.

DANIEL: (regards pendant) I can't accept this.

KARIN: (strokes Daniel's cheek) Bring it back to me.

Silently, Daniel accepts the gift. Turning the trinket over in his hands, his eyes go over to his desk, upon which rests the beautiful bust of the Egyptian woman. Stepping over to the desk, Daniel picks up the valuable piece of art. Turning back to Karin, he hands her the bust.

DANIEL: You were right — this piece is from the 14th century BC. Take care of her for me.

Smiling, Karin accepts the bust.


In the corridor directly outside the embarkation room, seven members of the away team — Kawalsky; TECHNICAL SERGEANT LOUIS FERETTI; TSGT. STEVE PORRO; SSGT. DEREK BROWN; SSGT. CHRISTOPHER FREEMAN; SSGT. JACK REILLY; and Daniel — stand waiting, going over their gear. As O'Neal rounds the corner, a black beret perched atop his head, the airmen snap to attention. Stopping before them, the captain looks first to his watch then to them.

O'NEAL: If anyone has anything to say, now's the time to say it.

In response, Daniel delivers a powerful sneeze into his handkerchief. The airmen turn to regard him, bemusement on their faces.


Mitch and Jenny sit before the main console, the only two technicians stationed inside the room. As the last glyph is entered into the stargate and the device activates, a display of the local universe flashes into existence upon a large transparent viewscreen recently installed in the back of the room, a blinking blue spot indicating the precise location of the stargate on the other side.


The security door to the embarkation room slides open and the away team files into the room. Crossing to the stargate ramp, they gaze up at the black ring and its pool of rippling silver energy. Looking down upon them from the bay window above is Gen. West and Maj. Anderman.

GEN. WEST: (through intercom) Begin final evacuation.

With all eight members of the away team gathered together at the foot of the ramp, O'Neal silently nods to Brown. Understanding this silent command, Brown takes out a large remote control. Activating it, the Field Remote Expeditionary Device — or FRED — stationed upon the end of the ramp comes to life. The large wheels of the flat-topped vehicle containing all the team's equipment roll forward and the FRED ascends the ramp, disappearing into the stargate's puddle. With the FRED through, O'Neal turns around and looks up to the bay window above, making eye contact with West. The two men lock gazes, unspoken challenge in their eyes. After a moment O'Neal breaks the contact, turning back to the stargate.

O'NEAL: Let's go.

Cradling their P90s, the airmen start up the ramp, O'Neal taking point. Up above them, West and Anderman leave the bay window as a blast shutter slides down over it.


Mitch and Jenny stare out into the embarkation room, transfixed as the members of the away team make their way along the ramp in single file to the stargate. As Jenny leans forward in her chair to get a better look at their ascent, the blast shutter closes over the scene.


O'Neal makes his way up the ramp slowly, cautiously, his weapon at the ready. As he comes to the open mouth of the active stargate, he stops, looking up and down the diametre of the gate's torus, scrutinizing the liquid ripples of the ring's energy pool. Gripping the stock of his gun tightly and gritting his teeth, the captain pushes forward, slipping through the silver puddle into the unknown. The other six airmen follow after him, disappearing one-by-one into the stargate. Soon only Daniel is left remaining on this side of the gate.

The Egyptologist stands at the foot of the active stargate, regarding it with fearful awe. He reaches forward with both hands, cautiously dipping them into the silver puddle. The liquid energy washes over his hands and the expression of uncertainly on his face dissolves, replaced with pleasure. Smiling, he slowly pulls his hands from the depths of the stargate, looking his unmarred digits over.

Daniel steps forward, closing his eyes as he immerses himself in the silver puddle.


Daniel phases out of conventional existence as he emerges into a black void. Strings of white light iris in around this void and what appears to be a starfield fades into existence. Caught in a transspatial slipstream, Daniel slips and slides through this starfield, passing several rainbow halos along the way. Before long, Daniel is carried through one of these halos.


Daniel comes hurtling out of the active stargate, glowing a bright white in the seconds its takes his body to regain tangible form. Hitting the stone steps hard, he rolls across the floor until he collides with the glowing pedestal. The scholar turns over, groaning with pain and nausea. Surrounding him, all in varying stages of gate sickness, are the seven airmen. Seeing Daniel sprawled under the iridescent pedestal, O'Neal and Brown rush over to offer him aid.

O'NEAL: (pulls Daniel up into sitting position) Jackson, it's alright — it's over. (to Brown) You stay with him.

BROWN: (gives Daniel light shake) Jackson, just listen to me. Keep moving. It wears off in a minute.

FERETTI: (grins weakly) What a rush.

Rising to his unsteady feet, Daniel turns to the stargate which bore him to this strange new world. Before he can begin examining this alien gate for characteristics which may distinguish it from its twin on Earth, the device shuts down, casting the chamber in near-complete darkness.

Having regained most of their faculties, the members of the away team switch on flashlights, illuminating the stargate chamber. It is wide and long, fashioned from basalt, it's sloping side walls leading out to a smaller antechamber which itself leads to the ramp leading to the unseen chamber beyond.

O'NEAL: (facing antechamber) Three teams. Let's go.

Passing into the antechamber, Daniel looks up to the ceiling. There, situated within a recess in the stone, is a perfectly round circle, criss-crossed with lines forming a sliced pie pattern. Daniel regards this strange feature for a moment, trying to determine its ultimate purpose, before following the others.


As O'Neal's men file out into the entrance hall — an immense chamber filled with countless pillars and bright sunlight filtering in through slot-like windows — they split up into three two-man teams and begin making a sweep of the chamber for potential threats. Making their way forward, they soon come to the far end of the chamber where an open doorway to outside waits.


Freeman and Porro step outside, crouching down and surveying their surroundings. Beyond the stone entrance stretches a long black ramp, at the end of which rise a pair of tall black obelisks. Surrounding the entrance, ramp, and obelisks is a barren desert landscape; this landscape, stretching out as far as the eye can see, is situated under an unearthly yellow sky. Aside from the complex itself, the only sign of civilization present is a road — a long, wide, paved road which leads from the complex into the enigmatic desert sands.

Rising from their positions, Porro and Freeman make their way down the ramp. Kawalsky and Feretti follow after them, and after them, O'Neal, Brown, and Daniel. Brown, armed with analytical equipment, waves a sensor through the air.

BROWN: (reading instruments) Readings line-up with the probe's. Conditions are similar to inside. Radiation, electromagnetic and other exposures indicate normal.

Satisfied with the sergeant's report, O'Neal nods. Starting forward, he, Brown, and Daniel make their way down the ramp with the others. Daniel looks about his surroundings, awed beyond description. Leaving the ramp, the three of them join the other four team members between the two obelisks. Noticing the slack expressions on their face, they turn around, facing the entrance they just came through. Seeing what the others are seeing, they snap back. There, looming before them, situated under three alien suns, is an Egyptian-style pyramid easily the same size as the Great Pyramid on Earth.

DANIEL: (grins) I knew it.​


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The seven airmen make their rounds about the quarter-mile perimetre surrounding the basalt pyramid. Freeman, Reilly, and Porro are going over the area beyond the north side of the pyramid with sensitive scanning equipment; Brown and Feretti are checking out the MALP beyond the south side; O'Neal and Kawalsky are checking out the area directly surrounding the pyramid itself.


Daniel stands alone within the dim stargate chamber, leaning over the dais which serves as the stargate's dial. Reaching out, he begins encoding an address into the device. As each pressed glyph panel lights up, the corresponding glyph tile and chevron on the stargate lights up in turn, glowing pure white. Unlike the gate on Earth, the chevrons on this gate do not split open and closed with each glyph entered, no harmonic tones are released, and the stargate itself does not vibrate.

Once the eighth glyph is punched in, Daniel looks about for the ninth: the "pyramid with sun" glyph; he fails to find it or any corresponding glyph. Concluding the large, unmarked hemispherical button at the centre of the dialling device must act as the glyph's substitute, Daniel presses it. The hemisphere illumines with white light and all the lights, glyphs, and engravings on both the dais and stargate light up. Instead of releasing a long, high-pitched tone and spewing forth the liquid silver energy which will stabilize into an extradimensional bridge to another world, the ring lets loose a low groan. It and the dialling device shut down.

Frowning, Daniel reaches into a bag at his feet and pulls out a notebook. Flipping to the desired page, he turns back to the dialling device and begins re-entering the address.


Having gathered at one of the black obelisks, the airmen set down the equipment they've been carrying. Brown steers the MALP by remote control up the ramp into the pyramid.

O'NEAL: (to Feretti) Report.

FERETTI: Other than shrubs and sand, there's nothing out there, sir.

PORRO: Our findings' the same.

O'NEAL: (looks at equipment scattered about) Wrap this up and get everybody back inside. I want you people back through the stargate within the hour.

Daniel emerges from the pyramid. Visibly distressed, he makes his way down the ramp to the rest of the team.

KAWALSKY: What do you mean, "you people"? You're coming back with us, aren't you, Captain?

O'Neal doesn't reply. Turning from the others, he goes to an open case. As he starts placing equipment inside, Daniel walks up to him.

O'NEAL: Jackson, start working on the stargate.

FERETTI: (to Kawalsky) What was that all about?

KAWALSKY: I don't know, Feretti.

DANIEL: (to O'Neal) I'm gonna need some more time. I mean there's bound to be more structures here, other traces of civilization. That road has to lead somewhere, right?

O'NEAL: That would be nice, Jackson, but not this trip. Just get back in there and re-establish contact.

DANIEL: (nervous) Well, it's not that easy. We really, really, really need to look around more.

Finished packing, O'Neal closes and latches the case. He focuses all his attention on Daniel, his face hard.

O'NEAL: Your job here is to re-align the stargate. Can you do that or not?

DANIEL: (shakes head) I can't.

At this troubling statement, the other airmen turn their attention to the conversation between the Egyptologist and captain.

O'NEAL: (takes menacing step forward) You can't or you won't?

DANIEL: (takes step back) Look, I tried using our address; it didn't work. I thought at first maybe there was something wrong with the dialling device, so I dialled out manually; that didn't work, either. So unless there's something wrong with the gate itself, we're going to need another address if we're to return home.

FERETTI: What the hell are you talking about?

DANIEL: The address for this planet was marked on tablets back on Earth, right? So there must be something like that here. I just need to find it.

PORRO: (points at pyramid) The address' here if anywhere.

DANIEL: This is a counterpart to the Great Pyramid of Giza. We're not going to find any hieroglyphic inscriptions or carved relief inside. We're going to have to expand our search if we're going to find what we need.

Kawalsky walks up to Daniel, gesturing quizzically.

KAWALSKY: You didn't say anything about finding anything.

DANIEL: I assumed the combination we had would work for both sides of the gate.

O'NEAL: (disgusted) You assumed.

With these words, Kawalsky goes ballistic.

KAWALSKY: (enraged) You lying son of a bitch!

Lunging forward, the master sergeant pushes Daniel, sending him sprawling.

KAWALSKY: (cont'd) You didn't say a word about finding anything!

Kawalsky steps forward, determined to force the Egyptologist into reopening the stargate to Earth even if he has to beat him into doing it. Before he can reach the smaller man, though, O'Neal steps in his path, blocking him.

O'NEAL: That's enough. (beat) We'll establish our base camp right here. Kawalsky, organize a detail to haul the supplies out here.

KAWALSKY: (incredulous) Establish a base camp? The mission objective was to recon the quarter-mile perimetre then get back through the ring. What good is it gonna do to —

O'NEAL: That's enough, Sergeant. You're not in command of this mission.

Enraged, Kawalsky steps up to the captain, looming over him menacingly. O'Neal meets his angry gaze, daring him to step out of line. A moment passes, then Kawalsky backs down.

KAWALSKY: Brown! Feretti! Freeman! Reilly! Porro! Back inside!

Without hesitation, the airmen execute Kawalsky's order. As they start up the ramp, Kawalsky joins them, leaving O'Neal and Daniel alone together beneath the obelisks.

O'NEAL: Now you've endangered everyone's life except mine. (beat) Help the men offload the equipment.

Daniel obeys O'Neal's command sheepishly.


About an hour has passed and the base camp has been established. Erected atop the first large dune past the obelisks, the members of the away team are afforded a glorious view of the face of the pyramid. Feretti, dragging a final crate of equipment, drops it in the sand in the sun just outside the camp and takes a graceless seat under the shade of the great tarp that has been set up over each of the individual tents.

FERETTI: (fuming) I can't believe we're stuck here.

FREEMAN: Knock it off, Mr. Doomsayer.

BROWN: Yes, give it a rest — please.

REILLY: Besides, if we're not back soon, they'll just turn the gate on from the other side.

FERETTI: (incredulous) Were you asleep during the briefing? The silo's been emptied out — it's deader than a church in Denmark. If we don't turn the gate on from here, we're screwed, alright? Now I'm telling you, we're not going anywhere!

REILLY: (annoyed) Shut up.


Alone inside the stone chamber, O'Neal stands over the FRED, his back to the dormant stargate. Now free of its cargo, the FRED's surface appears completely bare, unmarred by any visible seams. Leaning over, the captain feels along the side of the vehicle, searching for something. Finding a hidden switch, he presses it. With a soft click, a hidden panel on top of the FRED pops open, revealing a secret compartment. Reaching inside, O'Neal pulls out a large metal cylinder. Judging by the dark LCD timer and label bearing the radiation symbol on the side, the cylinder is a thermonuclear bomb.


Trudging up the side of the dune, Daniel comes to the camp, his large, heavy trunk of books and personal belongings in tow. Dragging it over to his personal tent with visible strain, he releases the handle then plops himself down atop it. Exhausted, the scholar runs a hand across his sweaty, sandy, reddening forehead. He then begins going through his supplies for a bottle of sunblock.

DANIEL: Toothpicks ... water purification tablets ... two-ounce mylar blanket ... a sewing kit ... compass ... processed fruit rolls ... sunglasses ... breath mints ... two knives ... signal flares ... cyanide capsules ... a hammock ... string ... tape ... bandages ... first aid kit ... everything but sunblock. (turns to others) Feretti, Porro — didn't any of you guys bring any sunblock? I'm burning up out here.

The airmen ignore him.


Setting the bomb up atop the FRED, O'Neal reaches back inside the compartment and brings out an arming mechanism. As he slides it into a slot at the top of the weapon, the timer automatically lights up with red zeroes.


FERETTI: (points to crate he left sitting in sun) Jackson, we need that crate over here.

Sighing with exasperation, Daniel slowly rises to his feet, groaning from the effort, and begins trudging toward the crate. As he reaches it, Feretti gets up and walks over to Daniel's trunk, opening the lid. As Daniel retrieves the crate, Feretti begins going through the archaeologist's belongings.

DANIEL: (opens crate) Jesus. You guys planning on fighting a war here?

There in the open crate, nestled in neat rows, are two dozen M4 carbine assault rifles.

FERETTI: (angry) Thanks to you, we've got the time to fight one.

Reaching deep into the trunk, Feretti pulls out Daniel's book sack, heavy with thick volumes.

FERETTI: (approaches Daniel) Why don't you do something useful, Jackson, like maybe a little reading!

He heaves the heavy sack at Daniel. Before the Egyptologist can prepare himself, it hits him square in the chest and he goes sailing backward with a yelp of surprise. Hitting the sand, Daniel and the books go end-over-end down the other side of the dune. Satisfied with this small bit of retribution, Feretti grins. Turning around, he heads back to his tent, giving Freeman a high-five on the way over.

BROWN: (shakes head; amused) That's cold, man.


Before O'Neal can proceed further with the bomb, a flashlight beam comes playing across the ramp leading inside, alerting the captain to the presence of another. With silent haste, O'Neal pulls the arming mechanism out of the bomb, deactivating it, then places the weapon back inside the compartment. Kawalsky enters the chamber just as the captain presses the panel down, resealing the hidden compartment.

KAWALSKY: Base camp is operational, sir.

O'Neal nods, face as impassive as ever.

KAWALSKY: I want to apologize for losing my cool out there. It just seems like more is going on here than meets the eye. (beat) For instance, what was that you said about not coming back with us? What was that all about?

O'NEAL: Apology accepted.

Kawalsky just stands there, waiting for the captain to answer his questions.

O'NEAL: You're dismissed, airman.

Frowning with silent anger and suspicion, the sergeant turns away from his superior officer, returning back the way he came.


Having finished his business at the pyramid, O'Neal comes to the base camp.

O'NEAL: Come sundown, Jackson, Kawalsky, Brown and I'll start off down the road. Like Jackson said, it has to lead somewhere. (beat) Where is Jackson?

Feretti, Brown, Reilly, and Porro exchange glances, saying nothing.


Daniel, his near-empty book sack slung across his shoulder, makes the slow climb back up the face of the dune, stopping every now and then to retrieve one of the many heavy books which spilled out onto the sand during their descent.

Eventually completing his task and reaching the top, he sets the sack down in the sand and takes a seat, exhausted from all the exertions of the day. O'Neal can only shake his head.​


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Hours have passed. The triple suns have dipped low in the sky, turning the sky on the horizon a deep green. O'Neil, Kawalsky, Brown, and Daniel are set to head off down the road which leads into the unexplored desert beyond the pyramid. The other men are with them to see them off.

O'NEAL: Feretti, I'm placing you in charge while we're gone. Keep base camp secure until we return.

FERETTI: Yes, sir.

O'NEAL: (to Daniel, Kawalsky, and Brown) Let's move.

The four men leave.


For the next several hours, the captain, master sergeant, staff sergeant, and Egyptologist trudge along the long, wide, empty road. As sunset submits to twilight, as twilight submits to night, and night submits to dawn, there is naught to see beyond featureless dunes as far as the eye can see. Daniel sneezes all the while.


Finally the trinary suns rise, colouring the sky yellow and bathing the dry sands in bright sunlight, revealing what lies at the end of the road, several metres into the distance: the front gate of an enclosed city. Bringing up his binoculars, O'Neal peers through the scopes.


Up close, we can see the blocks making up the walls and gate of the city are cut from basalt, same as the pyramid. Atop the gate, shaded from the sun under a tiled roof, are a pair of watchmen. The watchmen have apparently noticed the Earthlings, as one of them quickly puts his lips to a great horn and blows, sounding a large, low honk through the air.

KAWALSKY: Fall back. (beat) Should we fall back, sir?

O'NEAL: What would that accomplish? We might as well meet the neighbours.


As the Earthlings come to the gate, Daniel takes it all in, awestruck. The architecture is very similar to that of ancient Egypt.

O'NEAL: Put your tongue back in your mouth.

Daniel obeys. They all then slip inside.


As the four Terrans file into the city of Nagada, they are met with an astonishing sight; the townspeople present, numbering in the hundreds, are human. All olive and dark-skinned people of North African extraction, they wear colourful clothes reminiscent of Arabian and Indian dress. Busy setting up their shops and preparing for a day of commerce, they all freeze when they spy their unfamiliar visitors.

O'NEAL: Alright, Jackson, you're on.


O'NEAL: You're the linguist. Try to talk to them.

Daniel steps forward. Choosing one of the onlookers at random — a fifteen-year-old boy named SKARRA — Daniel strides up to him.

DANIEL: Um … hello?

Skarra has no response to this.

DANIEL: (laughs nervously) Dan-iel. I'm Daniel. (points to himself) And you?

Met with only a blank stare, Daniel makes a formal Japanese-style bow. This meets with more success, as Skarra awkwardly returns the gesture.

DANIEL: Essalat imana. (bows again)

Skarra apparently doesn't understand Aramaic.

DANIEL: Neket sennefer ado ni.

He doesn't appear to understand ancient Egyptian, either.

Daniel repeats the greeting again — reciting it in Berber then Omotic then ancient Hebrew then Chadic — but none of the languages he tries seem to be at all familiar to Skarra or any of these other humans on the other side of the stargate. Sighing with frustration, Daniel looks to the sky, absentmindedly fiddling with the gold pendant around his neck as he does so. As Skarra notices the stylized human eye emblazoned on the pendant, he almost wets himself.

SKARRA: Naturru ya ya! (turns to townspeople) Naturru ya ya!

Hearing Skarra's loud proclamation, the people gathered in the market square quickly get down on their hands and knees, prostrating themselves before the Earthmen. Skarra is quick to join them.

O'NEAL: What the hell did you say to him?

DANIEL: Nothing. All I said was hello.

O'NEAL: Dammit, I told you to communicate with them.


O'NEAL: Oh, fer chrissakes, Jackson, just communicate!

Stepping forward, O'Neal pushes Daniel out of the way, placing himself directly over Skarra. Bending over, he tugs Skarra to his feet with one hand while offering a handshake with the other. When the boy fails to understand, O'Neal takes his hand and gives it a vigorous shake.

O'NEAL: Hello, Capt. Jack O'Neal, USAF.

Alarmed and confused, Skarra cries out. Pulling away from the captain, he breaks out in a terrified run, disappearing into the crowd.

DANIEL: (dry) So much for communication.

Minutes pass, then the crowd gathered before the Terrans parts as a greeting party arrives on the scene. KASUF, an elderly gray-bearded man dressed in a fine red robe and purple headdress, comes forth atop a hairy steed which looks like an absurd hybrid of mastodon, camel, and water buffalo, escorted by a small group of women and an honour guard armed with flintlock muskets.

Bringing his steed to a halt metres before the four offworlders, Kasuf steps down. As one of the women hands him an ornate wooden staff, Kasuf approaches the Earthlings. Bowing before the visitors, he presents them a greeting, then steps aside to allow the women forward. The women, dressed in simple white dresses, come bearing soft cloths and pitchers of water. Moistening the cloths, they proceed to clean the dirty, sweaty faces of the Earthmen. One of the women, a lovely girl with wavy black hair, attends to Daniel. As she tenderly wipes the grime from Daniel's face, they make eye contact. Her deep brown orbs peering into his of piercing blue, Daniel is struck dumb. Not only does he find this extraterrestrial woman attractive, but also strangely, inexplicably familiar.

DANIEL: Thank you.

Finishing her work, the girl bows her head in acknowledgement then takes a step back.

Once the job of cleaning the Earthmen is complete, Kasuf approaches again. Deciding now would be a good time to return Kasuf's gesture of friendship, Daniel reaches into a front pocket and withdraws a 5th Avenue bar. Unwrapping the half-melted bar of chocolate, he presents it to Kasuf. When Kasuf proves oblivious to the bar's purpose, Daniel makes a "yum" then an eating gesture. Finally getting the picture, Kasuf accepts the bar and takes an apprehensive bite.

KASUF: (amazed) Bonni! (smiles) Bonniwae!

DANIEL: (grins) Bonniwae.

KASUF: (ecstatic) Bonniwae!

DANIEL: Bonniewae … bonniwae….

KAWALSKY: What does that mean?

DANIEL: I have no idea.

Once Kasuf has overcome his initial reaction to his first taste of chocolate, he utters something in his tongue, making a gesture with his arms for them to come with him.

DANIEL: He's inviting us to go with him.

KAWALSKY: How can you be so sure?

DANIEL: Because he's (mimes Kasuf's gesture) inviting us to go with him. (beat) We were looking for signs of civilization. Obviously, we've found it. If we want to find the gate symbols and get back home, we've gotta go with them. This is our best shot.

O'NEAL: Alright, there's no alternative. (to Brown) Radio base camp. Tell them where we are, that we're going to be staying awhile.


Back at base camp, Freeman is stationed at the radio when Brown's transmission comes in.

BROWN: (O.S.) Base camp, come in.

FREEMAN: Hold on. (takes off headset) Feretti! I've got Brown!

Feretti hurries over to the radio. Accepting the headset, he slips it down over his ears.

FERETTI: Yes? (beat) What? Could you repeat that? (beat) Okay ... yes.

Taking off the headset, Feretti sighs.

FREEMAN: So what's the story?

REILLY: They find anything?

PORRO: What's happening? What's going on?

Feretti remains silent, his expression pensive.


Kasuf's entourage leads the away team members through the streets on toward the heart of Nagada. A growing throng of captivated townspeople follow behind, eagre to study these otherworldly visitors from another place. As this grand procession is underway, we're finally afforded a clear picture of Nagadan culture. Nagada is essentially ancient Egypt if ancient Egypt had survived into the 19th century. While the architecture recalls the stone temples at Luxor and Karnak, the presence of carriages, advanced plumbing, and gas lamp posts brings to mind the developed world around the turn of the last century.

As they walk, Kasuf and Daniel converse, trying desperately to break through the language barrier between them but making little leeway. A little ways away from the two men, the girl who washed Daniel's face keeps sneaking glances at him, drawn to him but too shy to hold her gaze on him for more than a couple seconds. Meanwhile, back a ways from those three, O'Neal walks more-or-less alone. That's when NABEH — a hydrocephalic Nagadan boy — abruptly bumps into the American. O'Neal spins around, giving the boy a silent, dirty look. Nabeh, face slack, near-whispers an apology and backs away from the intimidating man. Understanding Nabeh is no threat, O'Neal faces forward and resumes his march. The slack expression on Nabeh's face disappears, replaced with a large, crooked smile. Looking down, he examines the shiny metal cigarette lighter he picked from O'Neal's pocket. Turning to Skarra, he presents the lighter to him.

SKARRA: (irritated) Nabeh!

Smacking Nabeh across the head, Skarra wrenches the lighter out of the other boy's hand and speed-walks up to O'Neal. As he taps the captain on the shoulder, the captain turns around, facing the boy with as much hostility he showed Nabeh. When Skarra presents him the lighter, much of the harshness leaves his features and he takes the lighter back with a nod of thanks.

Finally they reach their destination. At the heart of the city stands the Palace of the Elders. A multi-tiered step pyramid 24 metres high with a base 55.3 metres across, it brings to mind the Pyramid of Djoser back on Earth.


Kasuf leading the way, the Earthlings are escorted into the palace atrium. There several servants lounge about in relaxation while on breaks and in between shifts. With a majestic sweep of his arm, Kasuf signals them all to stand at attention and they quickly obey, halting in mid-step or rising from their couches and reclining cushions, eyes and ears intent upon the next signal from their master or his visitors.

Striding forth to the back of the chamber, Kasuf turns on his heel to face the newcomers, planting the end of his staff upon the floor with dramatic flourish. Uttering a litany in reverent tones, Kasuf bows to the Earthlings, the palace servants quickly mirroring his actions. As they bow, a large purple curtain hiding the back wall is raised, revealing a large metal disc affixed to the basalt behind it. Wrought from tarnished copper, it is a larger cousin to the gold pendant worn about Daniel's neck, bearing the same symbol of the stylized human eye.

DANIEL: (examines disc) The Eye of Horus. (to companions) He's the Egyptian sky god. I think they think he sent us here.

O'NEAL: Yeah? (takes hold of pendant) I wonder what could've given them that idea.

Approaching Kasuf, Daniel brings forth the pendant.

DANIEL: Horus?

When Kasuf frowns quizzically, Daniel gives himself a mental slap in the head; the elder wouldn't know the falcon god by his Hellenized name.


That draws a reaction, but not quite the one Daniel expected.

KASUF: (shakes head) Na'nay, na'nay! (points to own eye then disc) Atum! Atum!

DANIEL: (perplexed) Atum?

KAWALSKY: Another friend of yours?

DANIEL: Atum was the primordial god, parent of the air and rain deities Shu and Tefnut. He was worshipped as the father of creation until later generations sidelined him in favour of the sun god Ra. (beat) He was never associated with this symbol.

O'NEAL: So, they know the Egyptian gods and one Egyptian symbol. (beat) Jackson, would you say it would stand to reason if they know one Egyptian symbol…?

DANIEL: (awareness dawning) They'll know others! We can write to one another. Let me try.

Daniel begins rifling through his pockets in search of paper and a pen or pencil.

DANIEL: Uh … anybody have a pad of paper, maybe a pencil?

Brown fishes out a pen and small pad and hands both to the Egyptologist. Taking them, he writes a message in Egyptian hieroglyphs. Once he has finished, he hands the pen and pad to Kasuf. Taking the two items, the elder studies the message, scrutinizing the words, then scrawls out his own message. Taking the pad, Daniel looks Kasuf's response over, face lighting up with hope. The nascent smile quickly dies on his lips.

KAWALSKY: (frowns) What?

Daniel presents the pad to the others. Beneath Daniel's clearly written hieroglyphs is a line of unrecognizable cursive script.

DANIEL: These aren't hieroglyphs. I don't know what they are. I certainly can't read them.

At that very moment, the great horn stationed at the city gate is blown. The foghorn blast is carried through the air to the palace, where it can still be heard with clarity even from those distances. Hearing the call, the palace servants go into a frenzy. Brown's radio crackles to life.

BROWN: (puts radio to ear) Come in, come in! (beat) Feretti, I can't hear you. (to O'Neal) Sir, I can't make this out!

O'NEAL: (takes up own radio) Feretti, say again.


A thick, furious sandstorm has come out of nowhere and hit the base camp with full, vicious force. Reilly, Porro, and Freeman hurry to pack their equipment while Feretti attends to the radio, stinging sand relentlessly pelting them.

FERETTI: (into radio) Must abandon base camp! Repeat: Must abandon base camp!

PORRO: It's useless! It won't work in this!

FERETTI: (to other men) Alright! Let's go! Let's move! Everybody back inside!

Feretti hurries to take what he can carry and head straight for the shelter of the pyramid.


O'Neal steps out. Raising a hand over his eyes to cut down the suns' glare, he sees just what it is that caused the horn to be blown; the roiling clouds of billowing sand from the approaching sandstorm buffet the front wall of Nagada, threatening to blow over and through the rest of the city.

KAWALSKY: (joins O'Neal) What is it, Captain?

O'NEAL: Sandstorm, coming this way. (beat) We'll have to stay here until it's over.

O'Neal turns around and heads back inside.​


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Daniel, Kawalsky, O'Neal, and Brown have all been invited to dinner. At the long rectangular table sit the four Terrans, Kasuf, the other elders of Nagada, and the immediate family members of the elders. As her presence at the table would imply, the shy girl who caught Daniel's fancy is one such relative. As Brown jams with the troupe of musicians present, improvising some blues tunes on a zither-like instrument, Daniel's eyes wander hungrily over all the various platters and bowls of unfamiliar yet mouthwatering food which take up space along the table of polished dark green wood.

KAWALSKY: (wary) I don't think we should eat anything.

DANIEL: I don't know, (forks three lemon-yellow crepes onto plate) they might consider that an insult.

At that very moment, a waiter bearing a large gold cloche enters the chamber. Sidling up to the table, he places the cloche down in the centre. Daniel virtually begins drooling in anticipation of what lies concealed beneath the cover. As Brown comes to the table, the server lifts the cover away, revealing a roasted turkey-sized lizard.

DANIEL: (dumbfounded) …

BROWN: (disgusted) They can't seriously expect us to eat this, can they?

Kasuf beckons for them to give the reptile a taste.

KAWALSKY: (grins) Well, we don't want to offend them, do we, Daniel?

BROWN: It could be poisonous. None of us should eat it.

O'NEAL: He's right, Kawalsky; we can't afford to lose Jackson. Taste it.

Fighting the urge to commit insubordination, Kawalsky picks up a knife and fork and — with the elders' nods of approval — slices off a drumstick and sets it down on his plate. Picking up the drumstick, he takes one, small, tentative bite.


KAWALSKY: (smiles) Tastes like chicken.

DANIEL: Does it seem safe?

KAWALSKY: How should I know? (takes another, larger bite) Ask 'em if they've got any salt.

With Kasuf waiting to know what his guests think of the main course prepared for them, Daniel prepares to set his fears to rest.

DANIEL: Tastes good, uh, you know, it's … bonniwae!

KASUF: (mortified) Bonniwae‽

Horror morphing into indignation, Kasuf calls out the chefs, rebuking them harshly with grand, sweeping gestures of his hands.

DANIEL: (waves hands) No! Not bonniwae! Tastes like chicken. Chicken.

To help convey his message, Daniel stands up. Tucking in his arms, he begins flapping them.

DANIEL: Bock! Bock, bock, bock!

O'NEAL: Quit while you're ahead, Jackson.

Heedless of the captain's suggestion, Daniel continues flapping his arms and clucking until he finally gets the idea across.

DANIEL: (eats piece of lizard meat) Tastes like chicken! Good!

Kasuf grins with satisfaction.


Feretti, Freeman, Reilly, and Porro have fled the storm into the sheltering confines of the entrance hall, where they lounge about waiting out the storm. Feretti sits upon the sandy floor, trying to get to the men in Nagada through the radio.

FREEMAN: You're wasting the batteries. We're not gonna get any kinda signal in this storm. We're gonna have to wait 'til it passes.

FERETTI: (sets down radio) Yeah, right — if it passes.

Standing up, Feretti makes a step towards the door, then turns back and returns to his companions.

FERETTI: Y'know, I was stationed in the Middle East for two years and I never saw anything like this. Not even close.

FREEMAN: (rolls eyes) Yeah, yeah….

REILLY: I don't get it. Why don't we just try and turn the stargate on ourselves. I mean, how hard can it be?

FERETTI: (sardonic) Hey, there's an idea! (beat) We could turn the wheel in the wrong order and materialize 20,000 leagues under an alien sea. Have you got any freakin' idea how many millions upon millions of possible combinations there are on that thing‽

FREEMAN: (wry) No, how many?

FERETTI: (points at Freeman) Shut up, okay?

Earning nothing but laughter at his expense from his three companions, Feretti waves them off and goes to the entrance. Propping his back against the wall, he listens to the howl of the wind. As he stands there, listening intently, he picks up a new sound: a low hum, decidedly unnatural and unrelated to the howling wind.


As the sandstorm stirs sand through the air, cutting off all natural sunlight, casting the towering pyramid into premature twilight, unnatural silver light from some unseen source begins radiating upon the apex of the structure.


The unnatural hum grows louder. As it does so, the very pyramid itself begins trembling. Sand and dust trapped in the crevices of the entrance hall rain down upon the floor; all the equipment set upon the floor begin rattling from where they rest. Alarmed, the four non-coms bolt to their feet.

PORRO: What the hell is going on‽


We finally see just what it is casting that uncanny hum and silver light. It is the She Who Mauls, an immense craft the exact shape of the basalt pyramid, descending from the heavens.


The hum has intensified into an overbearing mechanical drone. Feretti, Reilly, Freeman, and Porro collect their weapons, Feretti feeding a fresh clip into his M9 pistol while the others go for their P90s.


Being hollow on the underside, the pyramid ship is able to slip over the stone pyramid like one gigantic sheath. As it closes over the structure, built-up energy is discharged from the ship's engines, raining several bolts of artificial lightning upon the ancient monument.


Once the pyramid ship has touched down, a heavy vibration rattles the pyramid to its foundations, knocking the Americans off their feet. They quickly get back up, nervous and edgy, trigger fingers itching.


She Who Mauls' docking clamps slide into place. The ship then lights up as the seemingly solid faces of the pyramidal craft split open, revealing themselves to consist of separate panels which slide apart, exposing glowing machinery underneath.


FERETTI: Alright — spread out!

The four non-coms spread out through the confines of the entrance hall, taking positions at various pillars, on the lookout for enemy forces.


Peering through the eyes of a HOSTILE ENTITY, we leave the pitch black antechamber, emerging into the entrance hall.

Moving with silent grace, this being goes on the offensive. Moving sight unseen, it sneaks up on Reilly, then Porro, then Freeman, knocking each of the trained men down with heavy blows from its armoured hand. They all go down before they have a chance to catch a glimpse of their assailant.


As a black shape comes out of the gloom for him, Feretti is fast to bring his sidearm to bear, emptying the whole clip into the thing. The bullets hit with pinpoint accuracy but ricochet off without leaving the least impact on their target. An armoured gauntlet emerges in the sparse light and Feretti goes down, knocked flat on his back, nose wet with fresh blood. Swooning but still conscious, Feretti gazes up at what sent him sprawling. Eyes bulging, mouth dropping agape, he freezes, petrified with absolute terror.


A full body shot of SIHATHOR.

A behemoth of iridescent green-black stone, Sihathor looks upon his prey, stance reeking of contempt. What passes for his head is exoskeletal, cast in the shape of a falcon's, equipped with baleful eyes which glow an intense turquoise.


Daniel, in the suite provided him by the Elders of Nagada, is currently armpit-deep in the water of a spacious bathtub, absorbed in the task of washing himself clean of all the dirt and sweat accumulated since his arrival on this extrasolar planet. Once finished, he rises from the tub, wrapping a towel about his waist.


As Daniel steps into his bedroom chambers, he finds a surprise in wait for him: SEVEN NUBILE WOMEN, all naked save for the jewelled pectoral necklaces about their shoulders and skirts of translucent linen about their hips, seated in alluring poses upon his king-sized bed.

DANIEL: (shocked) ...

Rising, the seven women all but glide towards him. Encircling him, kohl-lined eyes beckoning him to come hither, they take hold of his fine body and guide him to the bed.

DANIEL: (surprised) Uh, I … I ...

Six of the girls sit him down upon the mattress then gently push him down into a reclining position.

DANIEL: (cont'd) I'm — I'm very flattered, ladies — I really, really am. But —

The seventh girl climbs atop Daniel and strips him of his towel. Straddling him, she then rips away her skirt. Captivated by her full breasts and enticing hips, Daniel feels his urge to resist weakening.

DANIEL: Okay, maybe we can make this work…. (shakes head) No! No, we can't!

Bolting upright, Daniel pushes the girl off him and brushes the others aside, leaving the bed. Still intent on helping this young Terran sow his oats, the seven go after him.


The shy girl with the wavy black hair is making her way down the hall, ready to retire to her suite for the evening, when Daniel emerges from his quarters, struggling to slip on a pair of pants with the nigh-naked nymphomaniacs after him. Frantic, he comes to her and stops her in the hall.

DANIEL: (turns to women; places arm around girl) I've found my … uh … companion for the evening, so your services won't be required. You can go on your way, now. I'll be fine, just fine. (smiles)

Understanding Daniel all too well, the seven scantily-clad women depart, clearly dejected.


Guiding the girl inside, he seats her down on a sofa. Taking a chair, he places it before her and sits down, eyes intent on her. Taking this as a command to undress, she pulls the shoulders of her white dress down, evidently uncomfortable as she moves to uncover her breasts.

DANIEL: (surprised) I'm sorry! You don't have to do that!

Acting fast, Daniel stops her and pulls her dress back in place.

DANIEL: (cont'd) I just wanted to get them (nods to door) out of here. (beat) I thought maybe we could ... chat.

An awkward silence reigns between them.

DANIEL: Uh … Daniel. (points to himself)

SHY GIRL: (points to herself) Daniel.

DANIEL: (shakes head) No, I'm Daniel. (tucks pendant away inside shirt) I'm Daniel.

Awareness dawns in the girl's eyes.

SHY GIRL: (smiles shyly; points to herself) Sha'ure.

DANIEL: (smiles) Sha'ure….

An idea dawning, Daniel stands up. Placing his hand on Sha'ure's shoulder, he gently stands her up and guides her to a desk with sheets of paper, a reed pen, and an inkwell atop it.

DANIEL: I know we don't share a common writing system, but I thought maybe ...

Taking the reed pen, he dips it in the inkwell. Taking one of the sheets of paper, he draws a ring.

DANIEL: We came from the stargate.

He draws nine "V"s inside the ring, representing the gate's chevrons.

DANIEL: (cont'd) You know, stargate? Two-storey stone ring with thirty-nine little pictures engraved on it?

Sha'ure doesn't seem to know about the stargate.

DANIEL: (sighs) It's okay. Nevermind. It's okay.

Turning, Daniel goes over to the door, opening it a crack and peaking out to see if the seven women are truly gone. While his back is turned, Sha'ure takes up the pen and brings out a fresh sheet of paper; she quickly draws her own picture. Finished, she steps up to Daniel, tapping him gently on the shoulder. As he turns to face her, she holds the drawing up. There, in bold strokes of black ink, is a set of not-quite-accurately-drawn Egyptian hieroglyphs.

DANIEL: (shocked) Hieroglyphs! (beat) You know these symbols? (points to eyes then paper) You've seen these symbols?

Sha'ure nods.

DANIEL: Show me. (holds out hand) You show me.

Gingerly, Sha'ure takes Daniel's hand.


Semi-conscious, Feretti finds Sihathor dragging him by the leg through a corridor in the pyramid ship. Gazing up, he is mortified as he passes through a quartet of creatures — creatures with bodies of flesh but mechanical heads akin to Sihathor's, their gem-like eyes glowing a fierce green within the recesses of their felinoid faces.


Coming to the entrance to a grand opulent bedroom, Sihathor releases Feretti, depositing him there in the threshold. Entering the bedroom, Sihathor comes to a quite spacious bed and kneels before it, supplicating himself to the occupant reclining beneath the covers. Cautiously raising his head, Feretti watches as the reclining figure sits up with fluid cat-like grace, casting a clear silhouette of exemplary femininity.

The silhouette apparently takes notice of Feretti's voyeurism, for with one subtle tilt of its head, Sihathor turns right around, gazing upon the human with his turquoise eyes burning venomously. Reaching to his thigh, he unholsters his sidearm: a double-barreled over/under pulse rifle. Taking aim, the creature of green-black stone triggers the secondary barrel, discharging a blue-green electrolaser right in Feretti's face.​


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Atop one of the hairy pack animals — a mastadge, as Daniel has learned from Sha'ure — the pair has ridden out from Nagada into the deep desert. Before their departure, Daniel put on a fresh shirt and Sha'ure a pair of khaki overalls and boots, preparing them for whatever awaits them out here.

Coming to what appears to be a large, angular rock outcropping, Sha'ure brings the mastadge to a halt and leaps off. Daniel climbing off the mastadge and joining her, Sha'ure directs him over to a small alcove in the outcropping, where she gets down on her knees and begins clearing out sand. With Daniel's assistance, a sufficient amount of sand is cleared out in short order, revealing that the recess is actually a window — a window in the top floor of an ancient building which has lain submerged in the desert sands since time immemorable.


Igniting the oil in a pair of lanterns, Sha'ure and Daniel enter through the window. Sweeping his lantern about, Daniel casts light into each and every nook and cranny of this room he is in. Though empty and featureless save for the sand which has crept in and accumulated upon the floor over the uncounted centuries, an open doorway leads out into darkness, promising greater discoveries beyond.

DANIEL: What is this place?

Taking the lead, Sha'ure directs Daniel through the doorway.


Having worked their way down to the bottom floor of this buried ruin, Sha'ure leads Daniel into an old, dusty hallway. While the dry bones of long-dead people litter the floor at odd intervals, Daniel's more interested in what's on the walls: lines upon lines of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

DANIEL: (reading hieroglyphs) Naadas yan tu yeewah. Suma'ehmay ra ma yedat. (beat) Nandas sikma ti yu na-nay ashay.

SHA'URE: Seekhma?

Startled, Daniel turns to Sha'ure.

DANIEL: (points to drawing of amassed children) Sikma?

SHA'URE: (points at same drawing) Seekhma.

DANIEL: (ecstatic) Yes! Yes, sikma, children! Of course!

Having at last found a common word between them, Daniel singles out another image: an image of the cat-headed goddess Ubaste.

DANIEL: Nefer? (beat) Nefear? Najfar?

SHA'URE: Neyoum ifar!

DANIEL: Nay-youm-ee-far? (practices saying word several more times) Sha'ure, teach me to speak. Uh, teach — takera? Tekira? Sha'ure takera Daniel, okay?

SHA'URE: Sha'ure tahki-yeer Daniel.

They both smile.


Night has come and gone. With the rising of the three suns, the away team's third day on the other side of the stargate has been ushered in.  Already awake, O'Neil sits at a small table, absorbed in his thoughts when he hears a knock at the door.

O'NEAL: It's open.

The door opens a crack and Skarra leans his head inside. Opening the door wider, Skarra rolls in a service trolley laden with cleaning products and fresh linens. Skarra apparently works as a servant here in the palace.

O'NEAL: (waves him inside) Go ahead.

As Skarra goes to work sprucing up the place, he comes across O'Neal's equipment which has been deposited on the sofa. Poking around in it, he fishes out O'Neal's lighter. Flipping it open, he tries to make out its function.

O'NEAL: It's a lighter. (holds out hand) Here, let me show you.

Coming to the table, Skarra hands the lighter to the captain. Reaching into his pants, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and fishes out a cigarette. Flipping open the lighter, he ignites the flame and lights the cigarette.

O'NEAL: (takes drag) See? Lighter. (hands it to Skarra)

Taking the lighter, Skarra ignites his own flame. Absolutely captivated by this unusual firemaking tool, he smiles.

O'NEAL: (smiles faintly) Yeah, it's pretty fabulous.

Pointing at O'Neal's cigarette pack, the Nagadan boy asks him a question.

O'NEAL: (shrugs) Go for it.

Reaching for the pack, Skarra takes one of the cigarettes and lights it. After O'Neal flicks ash away and takes another puff from his smoke, Skarra mirrors his actions — the latter resulting in a violent coughing fit. Throwing the cigarette to the floor and frenetically stamping it out, he looks to O'Neal, disgusted and dumbfounded at the idea that O'Neal could derive any pleasure from inhaling these noxious fumes.

O'NEAL: (grins) Yeah, you're right. It's pretty stupid. (butts out cigarette)

When Skarra hands the lighter back to O'Neal, the captain raises his hand to ward him off.

O'NEAL: Keep it. It's yours.

Understanding O'Neal has gifted the lighter to him, Skarra nods his thanks.


Sometime later, O'Neal has met up with Brown inside the palace atrium.

As Brown fiddles around with his radio, trying to re-establish contact with the men at the base camp, O'Neal takes a gander at his watch, which reads 20:00.

BROWN: No use — I can't raise 'em.

O'NEAL: More interference?

BROWN: (shakes head) Nothing but dead air. There should at least be a tracking signal, but I'm not getting anything at all.

KAWALSKY: (O.C.) Captain!

Twisting around, O'Neal finds Kawalsky just coming in through the atrium's main entrance, carrying Daniel's green military jacket.

KAWALSKY: Jackson's not in his quarters. I've been looking everywhere, but I can't find him.

Looking over to the fountain at the atrium centre, O'Neal spots Skarra loitering there with his friends, entertaining them with his recently acquired lighter.

O'NEAL: (takes jacket from Kawalsky) Wait here.

Walking over to the fountain, O'Neal presents the green jacket to the teenaged cadre.

O'NEAL: We're looking for Jackson, the guy who wears this jacket?

Blank stares.

O'NEAL: Jackson … Jackson. We're looking for Jackson.

More blank stares.

O'NEAL: (sighs) Jackson — wears glasses so he can see? (mimes wearing glasses)

The kids mime his gesture.

O'NEAL: (sighs) I guess the word "dweeb" doesn't mean a thing to you guys, does it? (beat) I'm on Tatooine, looking for a dweeb who wears glasses, who wears this jacket, and (fakes a sneeze) sneezes.

SKARRA: (realization dawning) Ah! Bock! Bock, bock, bock!

Skarra and the others break out in a series of clucks and arm-flapping, imitating Daniel's chicken impression at the feast last night.

O'NEAL: (grins) Yeah, that's right. Chicken Man. Where's Chicken Man?

Skarra brings the impromptu chicken dance to an end. Taking the green jacket out of O'Neal's hands, he gestures for the captain to follow him.


Entering the stables, Skarra, Nabeh, and a few of the other palace servants lead O'Neal, Kawalsky, and Brown inside. Moving up to one of the stalls, Skarra holds Daniel's jacket out to the mastadge enclosed inside, letting the creature take the aroma of the doctor's dried, stale sweat deep inside its large nostrils. Once Skarra is certain the mastadge has caught Daniel's scent, he opens the stall, allowing the animal to lumber out. As the mastadge leaves the stables, the kids and airmen are quick to follow the creature.


Daniel is sitting in the dust with Sha'ure, exchanging words, when O'Neal and the others emerge from the darkness.

O'NEAL: Looks like you found what you were looking for.

Startled by this newfound, completely unexpected, presence, Daniel nearly leaps up out of his skin.

DANIEL: (startled) You scared the hell out of me! (stands) How did you get down here?

Frowning, O'Neal steps up close to Daniel.

O'NEAL: I thought you didn't speak their language.

DANIEL: It's related to ancient Egyptian. Like the rest of their culture, it's evolved independently.

O'NEAL: (irate) Just answer the question.

DANIEL: I've found words between the two languages which, in spite of thousands of years of linguistic drift between them, still remain remarkably similar.

O'NEAL: (frustrated) Give it to me in English, Jackson.

DANIEL: Well, I can't — not quite, not yet. I've just begun learning it.

BROWN: (examining hieroglyphic inscriptions) This place is a damn trip. It looks like King Tut's tomb got turned into a subway station full of graffiti.

Noticing the hieroglyphs for what seems to be the first time, O'Neal, too, begins looking them over.

O'NEAL: What does it say in here, Jackson?

DANIEL: Well, it's … it's, well, it's simply unbelievable. (beat) These walls tell the story of the original settlers of this planet, who came here some twelve thousand years ago.

Moving up to one of the lines of text, Daniel begins reading.



From a pair of twin white moons situated in a violet sky to a vast alien metropolis.

The buildings, lifeless and dark, surround a complex of five obsidian pyramids.

DANIEL: (V.O.) A traveller, from distant stars, escaped a dying world looking for a way to extend his own life….


THE TRAVELLER stands over the controls of his craft, watching the surface of his desolate homeworld receed into the distance through a holographic projection. A five-foot-tall humanoid, the creature is clad head-to-toe in a protective stasis suit which keeps his ever-failing body alive. His wrinkled face — tinted blue behind the faceplate of his sealed helmet — bears a pair of featureless black eyes, a small black extrasensory organ between those eyes, and a striated reptilian mouth.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) His body was decaying and weak, yet with all his powers and knowledge, he couldn't prevent his own demise. Apparently his whole species was going extinct….


The starship makes the voyage from the Andromeda Galaxy to the Milky Way Galaxy, coming across a multitude of worlds along the way to Earth.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) So he travelled or searched the galaxies looking for a way to cheat death….


The Traveller's starship has entered high orbit over the blue-&-white globe of Earth.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) It says he came to a world, rich with life, where he encountered a primitive race, perfect for his needs….


At the controls of his vessel, the Traveller looks over a holographic projection. Displayed before him, in hues of normal and ultraviolet light, are live-feed images of humans — primitive hunter-gatherers clad in skins — all going about their business oblivious to this surveillance.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) Humans! A species he could repair and maintain indefinitely. (beat) He realized that within a human body, he had a chance for a renewed life….


The Traveller's pyramidal yacht has made its descent, coming upon a small village. Heavy winds billowing, bolts of artificial lightning discharged to the ground, the villagers flee in terror of this incomprehensible titan.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) He came to a village, where he found a young boy….

One of the villagers, a handsome BOY barely out of his teens, remains behind as his tribespeople escape towards their hill of refuge. He isn't afraid. In fact he is very calm, serene.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) As the frightened villagers ran, night became day. Curious and without fear, he walked towards the light….

The youth approaches the descending craft, shielding his eyes from the intense silver light radiating from its burning engines. As he walks directly beneath the ship, a ball of intense white light passes down through the belly of the vessel and comes upon him, enveloping and consuming him completely.


Within the throne room of his refurbished and rechristened palace-ship, the Barque of Heaven, ATUM is now cleaned and groomed, garbed in gaily coloured robes and fine jewellery. No longer a mere human peasant, he stands tall, his stance that of a regal monarch.

PTAH, a fellow clad in a brown kilt and bronze skullcap, approaches the man-child with a pectoral necklace of iridescent gold in his hands. Securing the necklace about his master's neck, he takes a reverent step back, bowing his head in obeisance. The man-child then undergoes a stunning transformation. Powdered crystal emerges from the pores of his face and envelopes his head, taking shape to form a large headdress and plaited beard, replacing his visage of soft, olive-toned flesh with one of rigid, iridescent gold.


To reveal the OTHER THIRTEEN FIGURES amassed within the throne room, bowed before Atum, all attired in their own exoskeletal helms of iridescent gold stone. There is ANPU, the Jackal; APIS, the Bull; ASET, the Woman; AUSIR, the Man; DJEHUTI, the Ibis; HAPI, the Baboon; HERU, the Falcon; KHNUM, the Ram; SEBEK, the Crocodile; SEKHMET, the Lioness; SOKAR, the Corpse; UBASTE, the Cat; and WEDJAT, the Asp.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) He took the boy and merged with him — kind of like the Trill from Star Trek. (beat) Together they appointed themselves ruler….


We watch as Atum, working through his godlings, acclimates the proto-Egyptians to writing and science, allowing them to build Iunu, the first human city. In gratitude for all the god-king has given them, they willingly build a large pyramid in his honour, the underlying granite blocks hidden beneath casing stones of polished white limestone. This is the Great Pyramid, docking station for the Barque of Heaven.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) Atum gifted mankind with the knowledge of magic — writing and science….


Within the stone room which will one day into the future come to be known as the King's Chamber, the stargate stands open, chevrons, glyphs, and engravings aglow as hundreds of people are shepherded through the portal to another world.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) Erecting stargates on both Earth and Abdju, Atum had thousands of people brought here. It was his final gift to humanity: the heavens themselves….


Atum reclines naked within a spacious bathing pool, smiling lazily as several beautiful palace servants — men and women alike — bathe with him, alternating between washing and kissing his hybridized body.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) Something happened in the millennia after Atum's coronation. He grew less invested in running the empire he had built and shepherding the humans he had adopted in favour of time absorbed in the hedonistic pleasures of palace life. Sequestering himself away with his servants and lovers, he relinquished control of the Imperium to the godlings….


Within the depths of a rainforest — perhaps on Abdju, perhaps elsewhere — hundreds of thousands of labourers are put to the task of erecting another pyramid, supervised by the artificers of Ptah and the asp-helmed Wadjet Guards. When the labourers slip up or fail to meet certain quotas, the Wadjet Guards beat them with pain sticks and bullwhips.


Finally fed up with the abuse and neglect heaped upon them, the inhabitants of Old Nagada — a mining colony — take up arms against the forces of Atum's Imperium.

DANIEL: (V.O.; cont'd) Finally, there was a rebellion or uprising on this planet, here in this city.

As the original Nagadans wage a valiant but ultimately futile war, a medium-range bomber — a vaguely pyramidal craft with a saucer-shaped base — comes down out of the yellow sky. Passing over Old Nagada, it unloads a single plasma bomb. The bomb detonates in the heart of the city, obliterating the entire city and incinerating its inhabitants in the span of less than a minute.


DANIEL: (cont'd) The rebellion failed. The colonists were exterminated, their city razed. (looks upon skeletons reposing underfoot) A handful must've survived, trapped here while the rest of the city burned. They must've spent their final days writing all this down, preserving the truth for any future generations brought here to replace theirs.

KAWALSKY: (O.C.) Jackson? I think you'd better take a look at this.


Following Kawalsky's voice, Daniel, O'Neal, Sha'ure, and the others step inside a small room. At the back, where several skeletons lie in a heap upon the floor, a large cartouche has been painted on the wall. Laid down in broad strokes of dark red ink, it contains nine black glyphs — glyphs which line up with those found on both stargates.

DANIEL: That's it! That's what we're looking for!

Stepping close to the wall, Daniel takes out his notebook and copies down the gate address. Meanwhile, Brown examines the ancient skeletons. Clutched in the hands of one of the skeletons is a pulse rifle, similar to Sihathor's but evidently a much older model, lacking the secondary barrel.

O'NEAL: (satisfied) Alright, that's it. Kawalsky? Brown?

With those words said, the captain turns and leaves the room. As the others leave with him, Daniel lingers a moment, taking a final gander at the contents of the room before joining them.


Leaving the depths of the ruins, the Terrans start off on the long trek for the pyramid. As O'Neal and his men begin their march, Daniel lingers a moment, taking a look back. Standing there behind him, Skarra and his friends behind her, is Sha'ure. Eyes of intense blue meeting eyes of richest brown, a subliminal connection is made, and in an instant they share a realization — a realization that in another place, under other circumstances, they could have shared a life together.

KAWALSKY: C'mon, Jackson.

With that, the spell is broken. Turning his back to Sha'ure, Daniel leaves for the open ocean of sand.​


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For the next several hours, the captain, master sergeant, staff sergeant, and Egyptologist trudge through the desert, passing over and under dunes until they finally come to the road, unaware that Skarra, Nabeh, and the rest of their small band are following behind at a respectable distance.


Emerging from the open desert, they finally come to the end of the road. In wait for them is a most unwelcome surprise. Past the twin obelisks, past the entrance ramp, the pyramid of basalt all but hidden beneath its awesome bulk, is the She Who Mauls. With the three suns low in the eastern sky, the entire front face of the bronze-panelled craft has been cast in shadow, lending it an air of quiet, foreboding menace.

BROWN: Looks like somebody was home after all.

KAWALSKY: What the hell is that?

DANIEL: It's a spaceship. (takes notice of others' skeptical stares) Well, maybe not a spaceship, but some sort of flying machine. It was on the ruin walls.

Silently, O'Neal hefts up his P90. Taking off in a low sprint, he makes a dash for the pyramid. Own weapon at hand, Kawalsky follows the captain, covering him.

BROWN: (hands Daniel M9) Here. You might need this.

Daniel takes the pistol, and he and Brown take off in a run, joining the captain and master sergeant as they sprint up the basalt ramp into the pyramid. Still on their trail, the Nagadan kids follow them up to the pyramid.


As Kawalsky and Brown take up guard positions behind the forward columns, O'Neal moves deeper into the chamber, where he finds spent ammo casings lying in the dust on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly spots movement — a vaguely humanoid figure moving from behind one column to another. Taking hold of Daniel and dragging them both to a column, the captain takes cover behind it.


Climbing up a shelf of sand which had accumulated against the base of the pyramid during the sandstorm, Skarra and his friends peer in through the slot-like windows into the entrance hall.


Hearing the approaching steps of an enemy, Brown braces himself against his column, collecting his resolve, before leaping out into the open. Standing out before him, pulse rifle in hand and eyes glowing blue-green within the sockets of a falconesque head, is a low-ranking Heru Guard in iridescent bronze armour. Bringing his gun to bear, Brown pulls the trigger, emptying a full round into the bronze monster. Unharmed, the Heru Guard brings up its pulse rifle and Brown goes down, the weapon's electrolaser sending him sprawling.


O'Neal as he sees Kawalsky, who has been grappling with another bronze Heru Guard, lifted off his feet and thrown into a wall, knocking the big man out cold.

As the Heru Guard who dispensed with Brown appears, aiming its rifle in Daniel's direction, the captain automatically leaps into action.

O'NEAL: Look out!

Taking Daniel by the collar, the captain pulls him out of the path of an incoming blue-green beam. Swiveling his gun into position, O'Neal returns fire, then pulls the Egyptologist alongside him in a mad dash for the stargate chamber.

DANIEL: Where are we going‽

O'Neal has no time to answer. He and Daniel duck inside the antechamber, avoiding another electrolaser beam.


Bounding down the ramp, the captain looses his hold on the scholar's collar, dauntless as he crosses through the antechamber into the gate chamber directly to the FRED.

DANIEL: Why are we going to the stargate? We can't leave without the others.

O'NEAL: Stay right here and shoot anything that comes down that ramp.

DANIEL: What are you doing?

O'NEAL: Just cover me.

Opening the FRED's secret compartment, O'Neal takes a look inside. It's completely empty.

DANIEL: (approaches O'Neal) What is it? What're you looking for?

O'NEAL: (stoney) It's gone.

At that very moment, the circular recess in the ceiling of the antechamber opens up, the inner disc splitting apart into separate segments which draw inward, revealing an inner compartment, casting a column of bright white light upon the floor with a corresponding mechanical hum. Twisting around, Daniel brings his pistol up as ten black stone rings drop from the opening. Piling up, one stacked atop the other, they form an iridescent black column. A stream of silver energy passes through the rings and a black shape takes form within them. The process complete, the rings ascend into their compartment and the recess seals. Standing where empty space had been moments before, green-black armour glistening in the scant light of the stargate chamber, is the form of the Heru Guard Sihathor.

Daniel keeps his gun trained on Sihathor, ready but apprehensive to open fire on this dark god, when the other two falcon-headed warriors enter the gate chamber and take position behind their leader, bringing their weapons to bear.

O'NEAL: Put it down, Jackson.

Almost as if to punctuate the captain's request, Sihathor unholsters his own pulse rifle and levels it at Daniel. Conceding defeat, Daniel finally lowers the pistol.


With a flash of silver light, Daniel and O'Neal materialize aboard the She Who Mauls with their Heru Guard escort. Unlike the ring transporter down in the pyramid, this transporter utilizes only five rings, all of which are stored in a compartment under the deck rather than in the ceiling, indicating perhaps that it is a newer, more advanced model.

Once the rings have slipped down into the deck, the five figures find themselves standing on a raised circular platform. Leading away from the platform is a low, narrow catwalk which spans the length of the chamber, connecting to the command section at the front of the bridge. Barking a mechanically augmented, bass-toned command, Sihathor prods the two Earthlings with the barrels of his rifle. Getting the message, they step off the platform onto the catwalk.

Crossing the catwalk, Sihathor and his two subordinates behind them, the captain and doctor are taken clear across to the front of the bridge. At the command deck wait three figures: a PAIR OF FEMALE UBASTE GUARDS, armed with long copper-plated sceptres, who stand at guard on either side of a SEKHMET GUARD, who is seated upon the throne-like command chair. Unlike the Heru Guards, the cat-headed Ubaste Guards are not garbed in full body armour. From the shoulders down, they are garbed in white linen crop tops and kilts, their exposed arms, legs, and midriffs hard with lean muscle. In contrast, the Sekhmet Guard is enclosed in full armour of iridescent silver, the eyes in her lioness' head alive with yellow flame.

Making a harsh proclamation in his tongue, Sihathor knocks Daniel's and O'Neal's legs out from under them, forcing them to kneel before the silver entity. The Earthmen's eyes riveted upon her, the Sekhmet Guard raises a single hand, issuing an order to her underlings. Sensing something of import in her unintelligible words, Daniel begins scrutinizing his captors, waiting for whatever is about to transpire.

One by one, the helms of the animal-headed guards dissolve. Breaking apart into disparate segments, the helms collapse in on themselves, shrinking down and retracting until the skullcapped heads of human beings are fully revealed. Like the Nagadans, each of the guards are of North African ethnicity, and they are all physically attractive. Sihathor, in particular, bears an aquiline nose and strong chin which lends him a striking, regal air. Their eyes, though, are hard and cold — harsh and unfeeling. Turning their attention to the Sekhmet Guard, the Earthlings watch as her mask disappears. The Sekhmet Guard is, to put it unflatteringly, unspeakably beautiful. Her skin, without blemish or flaw, is the rich brown of darkest chocolate; her lips, sensuous in their fullness, are painted a deep black; her dark eyes, accented with kohl, are fierce and hungry — the eyes of a lioness on the prowl. The face of their mistress bared to them, the Heru Guards kneel in reverence to her.

SEKHMET GUARD: (in High Kemetic, subtitled) You have come here to destroy us.

With a gesture, the Sekhmet Guard summons two manservants. Carrying an ornate tray between them, the two slender scantily-clad man-children come to the space between their mistress and her captives, setting the tray on the floor there before speedily departing. Upon the tray is O'Neal's bomb.

DANIEL: (alarmed) What is that? (turns to O'Neal) That's a bomb, isn't it? That's what you were looking for. (beat) What the hell were you thinking? What'd you come here for?

O'Neal doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns on Sihathor and strikes, punching the Heru Guard in his now-unshielded kisser. Wresting the pulse rifle out of the senseless Heru Guard's limp fingers, the captain turns on the other two Heru Guards and squeezes the handgrip twice in rapid succession. Instead of releasing blue-green electrolasers from the secondary barrel, the weapon discharges orange plasma bolts from the primary barrel, boring through the falcon guards' heads, bursting them like overripe melons in a microwave.

The bridge then erupts in chaos. As O'Neal spins back around, opening fire on one of the two Ubaste Guards, the other springs into action. Levelling her sceptre in the captain's direction, she slides her hand along the instrument's underside; in automatic response, the pod-like head of the staff splits open, crackling with energy.

DANIEL: (leaping between Ubaste Guard & O'Neal) Wait! Stop! No! No —!

A plasma bolt springs from the woman warrior's staff weapon, punching through Daniel's gut and driving him into the floor with enough kinetic force to halt a charging rhino.

Daniel's body sprawled out twisted and lifeless, the captain sets his sights on the Sekhmet Guard. Eyes burning with challenge, she rises from her seat, providing the Terran a clear kill shot. O'Neal takes it, squeezing the handgrip to unload yet another devastating plasma bolt. This time, the bolt is stopped dead-cold as it meets an invisible protective force field, disincorporating without leaving a mark on her. Before O'Neal can try squeezing off another shot, Sihathor — recovered from the blow which felled him — comes up behind the captain and brings his armoured elbow down between the Earthling's vulnerable shoulder blades, rendering him unconscious with a single blow.

Just as the large Heru Guard gets ready to deliver the out-cold captain a serious beating, the Sekhmet Guard orders him back. Deferring to her command, he takes a step back, bowing in supplication. Leaving her chair, she crosses over to O'Neal. Looking him over, she then goes to Daniel. Bending low, she turns him over. That is when she sees the gold pendant, the Eye of Atum itself looking back up at her.


A grate in the ceiling of the holding cell slides open and Sihathor tosses O'Neal's unconscious form inside. Upon hitting the cold water which fills the cell, O'Neal is immediately roused to consciousness, springing up fighting mad. There are no enemies in wait, however; only Kawalsky, Feretti, Brown, and Freeman share the cell with him.

KAWALSKY: Captain, it's us! You alright?

The ceiling grate slides closed and O'Neal looks up. Sihathor looks down at him, smirking, then departs.

KAWALSKY: Where's Jackson?

O'Neal's expression of fear and shock tells the master sergeant the whole story.​


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Skarra and the others are rummaging through the remains of the base camp, digging in the sand and searching under the toppled tents for any equipment or supplies which survived the sandstorm intact.

As Nabeh finds a brown helmet and sets it down on his enlarged cranium, another of the kids — a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen years old — unearths a large crate. As she flings the top open, her face lights up with wonder.

GIRL #1: (in Low Kemetic, subtitled) Guys — I've found something!

Dropping what they are doing, the others all crowd in around her, leaning forward to peer inside the crate. This is the very crate of two dozen M4 carbines Daniel had dragged here all those days ago.

NABEH: (subtitled) Guns?

SKARRA: (nods; subtitled) Different guns from the ones Black Hat and his friends were carrying.

Taking one of the M4s, Skarra begins looking it over. Pointing the muzzle skyward, he tries pulling back on the trigger, but finds it stuck.

SKARRA: (subtitled) It won't fire.

GIRL #2: (subtitled) Maybe it's jammed.

Fiddling with the weapon, he manages to find and release the safety catch. the trigger now bends back, but the weapon still won't fire.

SKARRA: (subtitled) It must be unloaded. (beat) Start looking for bullets.


Daniel sits alone on a bench at a bus stop, legs close together, his sack of books at his feet. Surrounding him from all sides is a heavy pea soup fog. The fog before him lifts a little, revealing that the bus stop is situated on the shore of a large black lake. Stealing a glance at his watch, Daniel sighs with frustration.

Something then appears on the water, far in the distance, obscured behind the fog. As it moves closer, on approach for the shore, it emerges from the heavy mists and its identity becomes clear; it is a long, narrow boat crewed by THREE FIGURES: two passengers, who remained seated, and the seven-foot-tall ferryman, who stands guiding the craft forward with each slow push of his long pole.

As the boat comes ashore, Daniel rises to his feet, collects his heavy book sack, and — with a heavy grunt — steps forward. Now we are afforded a clear view of who is aboard the boat. The passengers are Reilly and Porro, very life-like is spite of the caved-in skull and broken neck they respectively sport. The ferryman, clad in a hooded robe of black sackcloth, bearing sallow skin, hollow cheeks, cataracted eyes, and a five-foot-long gray beard, is CHARON, the Greek psychopomp himself.

CHARON: Room for one more.

Reaching into the nasty hole burned through his abdomen, Daniel pulls out a ticket.

CHARON: Climb aboard.

Daniel climbs into the boat and takes a seat beside the two dead non-coms. Charon then pushes the boat out across the water, guiding it back whence it came.


As Charon silently guides the boat across the placid, dark waters, Daniel turns to his two companions.

DANIEL: Reilly, Porro — you're dead, too?

REILLY: (grins) We certainly are.

PORRO: That Sihathor really did a number on us. (beat) I'm not complaining, though.

REILLY: Me neither. Got me a sweet little number waiting on the other side; she died fourteen years ago. (frowns) Hope she aged well.

They finally come to their destination on the far side of the lake. Rising from the rocky shore, disappearing into the dark clouds overhead, is a tremendous stairway of black marble.

PORRO: Here we are. (stands up) Be seeing you, Doc.

DANIEL: Likewise.

Leaving the boat, the non-coms begin climbing the grand stairway, soon slipping into the clouds where they disappear from view.

Now alone with Charon, Daniel looks up at the cadaverous ferryman. When the psychopomp says nothing — when he doesn't so much as acknowledge the ex-Egyptologist's continued presence with a downward glance — Daniel sighs and, picking up his heavy sack, steps out of the boat and begins the long, laborious climb up the stairway.


Reaching the top of the stairs, Daniel finds himself on a short causeway leading to the pearly gates of Heaven itself.

As he moves on approach for the gates, Daniel pauses as he comes upon a white marble statue. The statue, carved in the Greco-Roman style, is shaped in the likeness of a beautiful woman; it is Sha'ure herself. In her hands she holds a bust; it is the exact duplicate of the bust he gifted to Karin Langford before leaving through the stargate. At this point, it is finally made clear why Daniel found Sha'ure so uncannily familiar upon their meeting; she is the living twin of the long-dead woman whose likeness his bust was carved to represent.

Leaving the statue, he completes his trek to the pearly gates, where SAINT PETER stands in wait for him, a large, heavy book in hand.

DANIEL: (frowns) Saint Peter? Is that you?

ST. PETER: (bored) Certainly not Saint Nick, kid. (opens book) Name?

DANIEL: Daniel Jackson.

ST. PETER: (looks through book) Daniel Jackson … Daniel Jackson. (beat) Would that be Daniel T. Jackson?

DANIEL: My middle initial's "G".

ST. PETER: Ah, yes, Daniel G. Jackson. (beat) I'm sorry. You can't get in yet.

DANIEL: (frowns) I can't? Why the he-

Saint Peter frowns.

DANIEL: (cont'd) double hockey sticks not?

ST. PETER: Says here that you haven't been weighed yet. (closes book) Sorry, kid, but you've got to pay Osiris and Anubis a visit before passing these gates.

Stepping off to the side, Saint Peter reveals a lever concealed behind him. Pulling the lever back, he opens a trapdoor beneath Daniel's feet.


Falling through the trapdoor, Daniel hits the unseen floor. Even with the bright light shining overhead, his surroundings remain a perfectly featureless black. As he gets to his feet, five objects materialize in this void: OSIRIS, the green-skinned lord of the underworld; ANUBIS, the jackal-headed god of judgement; THOTH, the ibis-headed scribe; AMMIT, the crocodile/lion/hippopotamus devourer; and a set of balance scales. These five things are all enormous in size, towering over Daniel, who is but a mouse underfoot.

OSIRIS: Daniel Jackson, son of Melburn and Claire, do you know why you are here?

DANIEL: To determine whether or not my heart's free of sin, if I'm worthy of joining my loved ones on the other side.

OSIRIS: Yahtzee.

Reaching into his kilt, Anubis pulls out a feather — the feather of Maat. Licking his fingers, Anubis straightens the barbs of the feather then gently lays it on one of the scales. He then picks Daniel up and sets him down on the other side. Daniel immediately proves heavier than the feather by far.

OSIRIS: That's that. Toss 'im.

Picking Daniel back up, Anubis crosses over to Ammit, who starts wagging her tail in eagre anticipation.

ANUBIS: Would you like a biscuit, Ammit?

Ammit pants frantically.

ANUBIS: Then stand, girl — stand!

Ammit rises on her hind legs.

ANUBIS: Good girl!

The jackal god tosses Daniel in the air. Ammit snaps the little man up in her long crocodilian jaws.


Daniel bolts upright, gasping as he comes to. Looking about, he finds himself on the pyramid ship, seated on the spacious bed Feretti had seen earlier. Looking down at the large hole burned through his shirt, he feels around inside for the wound he knows should be there, but there is no wound at all; there isn't even a scar to mark where one had been. Touching his face, he finds he no longer has his glasses, either. Indeed, he no longer needs his glasses; he can now view the world with 20/20 vision.

Rising from the bed, he finds a manservant standing in the doorway. This boy, one of the very same scantily-clad youths who unveiled the bomb earlier, gestures for Daniel to follow him.


Within a bathing pool, the Sekhmet Guard — FAIZAH — lies submerged up to her breasts in hot, steaming water, eyes closed in relaxation. Now shed of her armour and all accoutrements, she allows her long, full, curly black hair to frame her face and cascade down her shoulders. As Daniel enters the room with the manservant, her eyes open, burning into him.

FAIZAH (SEKHMET GUARD): If was foolish of you to reopen your stargate. Your presence here was detected the moment you stepped through the gateway.

DANIEL: (amazed) You speak English?

FAIZAH: While biotechnicians peeled the brains of you and yours in search of information, I had them repair your body. During the procedure, lingual nanites were injected in the language areas of your brain. All the tongues known to the Imperium are now cognizant to you, and vice-versa. (half-smiles) Consider it a gift.

Faizah rises from the pool, allowing rivulets of water to run down the length of her strong, beautiful body. As a pair of manservants slip her into a translucent black robe, Daniel catches note of her belly; where a navel should be is a pair of slits criss-crossing her abdomen to form an "X".

DANIEL: You aren't human.

FAIZAH: (cocks eyebrow) I was human. My years of service to the gods have earned me greater status. I am now Jaffa, first prime of Sekhmet, war goddess of the Imperium.

DANIEL: Jaffa….

FAIZAH: The Jaffa are the pinnacle of humanity, enhanced by the prim'ta to possess strength, health, and longevity the mere man couldn't dream to obtain.

DANIEL: Prim'ta?

Sliding her hand down her chest to her stomach, Faizah slips her fingers past the "X" slit into her abdomen, drawing a cringe from Daniel. Amused by Daniel's revulsion, she plunges her entire hand inside, taking hold of that nestled within. Pulling out, in her grasp is a wriggling, white, worm-like creature with two beady, black eyes and weak four-pronged jaws.

FAIZAH: A remnant of a race subdued by Atum in ages past. Where they once sought to ravage the Imperium, they now serve it dutifully through us.

Faizah returns the prim'ta to its pouch.

DANIEL: The godlings, Atum's viceroys — are they Jaffa?

FAIZAH: They are more than Jaffa.

Tying her robe in place, Faizah steps out of the bathing room, accompanied by her servants. Daniel follows them.


Entering her chambers, Faizah steps past a long marble table and crosses over to a dressing chair. As she sits down in it, her manservants proceed to brush her hair. As Daniel steps inside, he sees the table and everything laid out on it: guns; ammo; radios; dog tags; jewellery; his glasses; some of his books and photos; even an entire uniform stripped from one of the dead airmen.

DANIEL: You said you had the minds of my friends — my mind — searched for information. You must know everything they knew.

FAIZAH: (nods) Yes.

DANIEL: Then you know we came here as explorers.

FAIZAH: You may have come through in the spirit of exploration, as did your guards. But your commander? (shakes head) You of Earth have harnessed the power of the atom; you have become dangerous. You are no longer under Sutekh's thrall, but your chieftains still mean to bring war to us.

DANIEL: What are you going to do?

FAIZAH: My mistress has ordered me to send your weapon back to your world. I will encase it within a shipment of weapons-grade naqahdah. It will increase your weapon's destructive power a hundredfold.

DANIEL: Why did you give me back my life?

With a wave of her hand, Faizah dismisses her servants. Rising from her chair, Faizah approaches Daniel, naked save for the thin robe which barely conceals the curves of her body.

FAIZAH: The Imperium encompasses a thousand worlds; I have not seen your like on any of them. (smiles) You will serve me.

DANIEL: And if I refuse?

FAIZAH: Then I shall destroy you (leans in close) and all who have seen you.


Sha'ure is back down in the ruins, examining the hieroglyphs by lantern-light, when Skarra and Nabeh enter.

SKARRA: Sha'ure.

Sha'ure turns at the sound of his voice.

SKARRA: The gods have called an assembly … an execution.

SHA'URE: Skarra, Nabeh, I want you to listen.

As she beckons them to come hither, the two boys approach.

SHA'URE: I want you to know what Daniel told me, about where our people came from … and why we can't let this happen.

The pair looks up at the pictures on the walls as the young woman begins her tale.​


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A new day has come to this side of Abdju, and along with it all the people of Nagada. Summoned by Faizah's emissaries, they have left the shelters of their inviting city and travelled in the thousands under the hot desert suns to the pyramid, where they have assembled before the entrance ramp to bear witness to the upcoming execution of O'Neal and his men. As for O'Neal and the remaining members of his team, they stand midway up the ramp, facing the entrance, guarded by a pair of armed Heru Guards.

Upon the ramp, a long burgundy carpet has been unfurled, leading up to the entrance which, in turn, has been festooned with a canopy of matching burgundy fabric to shield the empty throne sitting beneath it from the harsh sunlight. Emerging from the entrance, accompanied by her Ubaste Guards and servants, is Faizah, once again attired in full Sekhmet Guard armour. Upon sighting the silver demigoddess, the Nagadans all bow to the ground, prostrating themselves before the lioness-helmed woman and her entourage.

FAIZAH: (raises arms; subtitled) Rise.

At her command, the Nagadans return to their feet.

As Faizah takes her seat on the throne, Sihathor steps out of the pyramid, Daniel in tow.

KAWALSKY: (to O'Neal) You told us he was dead.

The two Heru Guards leave their posts to join their mistress at the entrance as Sihathor positions Daniel at the head of the ramp.

SIHATHOR: (addressing crowd; subtitled) This one has come before you, bearing the seal of Atum. (pulls pendant free of Daniel's throat; holds it up for all to see) He sought to take the mantle of the god of gods, but there can be only one Atum. (points at O'Neal & other captives) It is Atum who commands him to kill these men, his friends, his brothers. He will obey him unto death.

One of the Ubaste Guards leaves Faizah's side and approaches Sihathor. Bringing forth her staff weapon, the cat-helmed warrior presents it to the green-black Heru Guard. Accepting the long weapon, Sihathor thrusts it out to Daniel, silently commanding the smaller man to take it. Tentative, the scholar takes the sceptre. Getting a feel for the ungainly ceremonial weapon, he descends the ramp, bringing the pod-like barrel of the staff weapon to bear on O'Neal. Running his hand along the underside, he primes the weapon for fire.

As Daniel gathers the nerve to pull the trigger, bright light falls across his vision. Distracted, he looks away from the captain, past the other Americans, and spies what has caught his eye. Standing in the crowd beside Sha'ure, using O'Neal's lighter as a mirror, is Skarra. Squinting, Daniel sees the boy draw aside the folds of his long coat to reveal the M4 carbine he has hidden beneath it.

As everyone — the guardsmen of the Imperium, the Nagadans, and the airmen — stand/sit in anticipation of the first energy blast, Daniel spins around, training the staff weapon on one of the Heru Guards. Pulling the trigger, a bolt of superheated plasma lances out, striking the falcon-helmed guard in the breastplate, knocking him off-kilter and reeling. The loyal band of palace servants then whip out their M4s, opening fire into the sky.

The light and noise of the staff weapon and M4s assaulting their unaccustomed senses, the thousands of Nagadans succumb to panic, fleeing in droves in all directions to put as much distance as they can between themselves and the weapons of gods and men from unfamiliar stars. Taking advantage of the chaos, the Earthmen break off in a run, sprinting down the ramp and blending into the morass of Nagadan bodies. Bringing forth their weapons, Sihathor and the other Heru Guards begin firing into the crowd. While his subordinates are content to utilize the stun beams to avoid needless slaughter, Sihathor has no such qualms; he releases a steady stream of decimating plasma bolts upon everyone within range of his rifle. One such bolt strikes Freeman, catching him between the shoulder blades, blasting through his sternum, dropping him instantly.

FERETTI: Freeman! Freeman!

There is nothing the technical sergeant can do for his fallen friend.

The Earthlings meet up with Sha'ure and the others and are led to a waiting group of mastadges. Climbing atop the hairy beasts, they make their escape, evading Faizah's forces for the time being.


After hours of travel, another fierce sandstorm has picked up. The Terrans and their Nagadan accomplices have come to a series of caves set in a range of low, craggy hills. Dismounting the mastadges, they corral the creatures inside a shallow cave. Leaving a pair of girls and one boy to keep watch over the beasts, the rest then set off again on foot to put as much distance between the mastadges and themselves as they can should the former ever be found by Faizah's people.

After nearly another hour of trekking through the howling, gritty wind, they finally stop and set up shop within one of the deep caves nearby.


The Nagadans and Terrans file inside, and we see that the Earthlings' weapons and ammo have already been stashed inside. Apparently Skarra and the others already had this cave picked out as a hiding place before their escapade at the pyramid. As torches are lit and fixed in makeshift sconces, casting light throughout the shadowy recesses of this dank place, the travellers all collapse to the stone floor, weary from their journey. As the kids go about inspecting their borrowed guns, O'Neal studies them with cold eyes.

KAWALSKY: (grins) What do you think, Captain? They're not exactly Special Forces, but they sure were eagre to join up.

O'NEAL: (wrenches gun away from a Nagadan) Take these guns away, Sergeant, before they hurt themselves.

KAWALSKY: (frowns) Sir?

O'NEAL: You heard me. Send them all home.

KAWALSKY: There isn't anywhere for these kids to go. Besides, we sure could use their help right now.

O'NEAL: (enraged) For what, huh‽ To do what‽

This outburst from O'Neal catches everyone by surprise. Everyone, that is, save Daniel.

DANIEL: Why don't you just tell them everything? Why don't you tell them about the bomb?

KAWALSKY: What's he talking about?

O'NEAL: (sighs) My orders were simple: Track down signs of any possible danger. If I found any, blow up the stargate. (beat) Well, I found some.

KAWALSKY: (angry) Why wasn't I told of this?

O'NEAL: It was strictly need to know.

KAWALSKY: (dumbfounded) Need to know‽ Don't you think this is something I would damn well need to know‽

O'NEAL: (flustered) You weren't even supposed to be here! None of you were. You were all gonna go right back through with Daniel.

DANIEL: And this great plan of yours would leave you here with a nuclear weapon? Well, your bomb is Faizah's now, and soon she's going to send it back to Earth along with a shipment of the crystal the stargates are made of. And when that thing goes off, it's going to cause an explosion a hundred times more destructive than that bomb alone is capable of.

O'NEAL: She told you all this?


O'NEAL: Alright, then. I'll intercept the bomb and destroy the stargate before she can send it through.

DANIEL: (frustrated) Destroying this one gate won't accomplish anything! There're bound to be more!

O'NEAL: You have a better idea?

DANIEL: It's the gate on Earth that poses a threat. As long as that one is up and functional, they'll always have access. That is the one that we have to shut down!

O'NEAL: You're absolutely right. But with the enemy controlling the gate here, we may not have that option.


Faizah is standing in her quarters, looking out the simulated bay window which provides a holographic view of the swirling brown winds of the sandstorm billowing beyond the ship's hull, when Sihathor, his falcon mask retracted, enters the chamber.

FAIZAH: (turns to Sihathor) Where are they?

SIHATHOR: They vanished.

FAIZAH: (frowns) What do you mean, vanished?

SIHATHOR: They are nowhere to be found — not in Nagada, not in the ruins. My men have searched both thoroughly.

FAIZAH: Then they are somewhere out in the wilderness. (beat) Send forth the udajeets. They will scan the hills, the sands, the entire face of Abdju if need be until the First Worlders are found.

SIHATHOR: (bows) As milady wishes.


As the sandstorm continues to sweep across the desert, a sole udajeet — a crescent-shaped automated drone/fighter with downward curved wings — flies on through, heedless of the elements buffeting it.


Nabeh is stationed outside the cave opening, standing guard, when he hears the whine of the approaching udajeet. Dashing inside, he drops down, taking cover in shadow as the glider passes overhead, clear over the cave and the humans secreted therein. Once the noise of the udajeet's engines have faded into the distance, Nabeh crawls back out, keeping a cautious eye out for more gliders.


Away from the main chamber, sitting away in his own private alcove with only a lit torch to keep him company, Capt. Jack O'Neal stares straight ahead at the wall, all but a zombie.

DANIEL: (O.C.) So, you've accepted the fact that you're never going home?

O'Neal's gaze remains fixed straight ahead; never once does he turn his head or otherwise give any physical indication that he's aware of the Egyptologist standing behind him.

DANIEL: (cont'd) Don't you have people who care about you? A family?

O'NEAL: I had a family. (beat) No one should ever outlive their own child.

With this revelation, Daniel clams up. Although he's known plenty of pain in his own life, he still doesn't know how to respond to the pain of others.

DANIEL: Captain, listen … I don't want to die.

With those five words, the captain finally turns to face Daniel.

DANIEL: (cont'd) Your soldiers don't want to die, and these kids helping us don't want to die. (beat) It's a shame you're in such a hurry to.

Daniel's words punch O'Neal straight in the gut. He then gets ready to respond, to say or do whatever it'll take to get Daniel out of his face, but the Egyptologist turns and walks away before the captain can speak a syllable.

As the Egyptologist disappears around the corner, Skarra comes around that same corner, carrying a full bowl of stew in his hands. Approaching O'Neal, he holds out the bowl.

SKARRA: Anasaar?

O'Neal turns away from Skarra, ignoring the boy in the hopes that he will soon depart and leave the captain to his troubled thoughts. Perplexed, thinking that maybe O'Neal finds the food abhorrent, Skarra gives the stew a sniff. Finding nothing obviously wrong with the concoction, he sets the bowl down on the ground, just past the captain's reach. When the Earthman continues ignoring him, Skarra decides to make a game of the situation. Playfully he slides the bowl slightly closer to the older man, then slightly closer more, then closer once again. He then begins trying to invite O'Neal to eat, making comical faces and gestures to entice the captain into taking a bite. In spite of himself, O'Neal finds this whole display incredibly goofy and he feels his stoic resolve weakening. When Skarra finally resorts to flapping his arms and clucking like a chicken, O'Neal completely caves.

O'NEAL: (laughs) Chicken, right?

SKARRA: Shickan!

Grinning, O'Neal musses up Skarra's hair. Then he accepts the bowl of stew.


Daniel rejoins Kawalsky, Brown, Feretti, and the Nagadans in the main chamber. As he sits down beside Feretti, accepting a bowl of exotic alien fruit from one of the Nagadan boys, he steals a glance at Sha'ure, who is eating her own dessert in the company of the other girls.

FERETTI: (smirks) There she is, Romeo. Why don't you pay her a visit?

DANIEL: (turns to Feretti) I don't know what you're talking about.

FERETTI: Wouldn't be so bad, would it? You two could honeymoon back at the pyramid. Rent an apartment here in the caves. Find yourself a job in town. Maybe teach Greek and Latin to pick up money on the side. Start a little family.

Clearly not in the mood for Feretti's jocular remarks, Daniel stands up and leaves.

FERETTI: (puzzled) What'd I say?


Daniel steps out into the low-ceilinged tunnel which leads outside. In no mood to be with any company, he takes a seat midway between the main chamber and cave opening, far enough away from both those inside and Nabeh outside.

As Daniel slowly begins eating his bowl of fruit, Sha'ure slips inside the tunnel, joining him.

SHA'URE: Daniel….

Sensing his desire for solitude, the young woman clams up and turns to go back.

DANIEL: Sha'ure … you don't have to go. Stay.

Accepting Daniel's reluctant hospitality, Sha'ure takes a seat on the tunnel floor, directly facing him.

DANIEL: (sighs) It's my fault we're here. (beat) I hadn't told the truth when the general asked me if I could bring the team back. The pictures of the stargate the MALP sent back to Earth were clear enough; there was no cartouche in the room, no way of establishing a new address for the trip back home. I assumed West was going to send the team through whether I went with them or not, and I was willing to risk myself to satisfy my curiosity. I failed to consider the consequences of my actions on others. (beat) How many more will die because of me?

SHA'URE: (half-smiles) When did you become so fluent in my tongue?

DANIEL: It's a complicated story.

Absorbed in his own self-loathing, Daniel absentmindedly picks a piece of fruit which resembles a hairy strawberry out of his bowl. As he goes to bite into it, Sha'ure seizes his wrist in a strong grip, holding it back. The girl peels away the hairy, papery skin of the fruit, exposing the soft green flesh beneath. Raising the fruit to his lips, she very gently feeds it to him. There is more tenderness in the gesture, more intimacy, than either of them would normally be comfortable with. Yet they cannot deny what they are — literal star-crossed lovers, brought together over vast gulfs of time and space by whatever gods may be to fulfill some untold destiny — and so they loose their reticence, surrendering themselves to the moment.


Faizah is seated at her table, absorbed in recordings from the tumultuous times of the First Days, of the uneasy years of excess and corruption which led to the bloody uprisings on the Abdju and Nubt colonies and the coup which saw Earth cut off from the stargate network. That is when Sihathor opens the doors to her chambers, admitting the udajeet operator. Deactivating the holoscreen, Faizah leaves her table and approaches the operator.


The operator — a man barely out of his teens — takes a step forward and gets down on one knee.

UDAJEET OPERATOR: They are dead.

Turning to the young man, she walks up to him, her stride full of menacing grace. Crossing in front of him, she looks down on him, examining him as a housecat would a mouse.

FAIZAH: Bring their bodies to me.

UDAJEET OPERATOR: The naqahdah deposits in the surrounding terrain interfere with our scanners. The udajeets could get no positive readings of their presence. (tries and fails to make eye contact with Faizah) They are still in the sand. Surely the sandstorm will have killed them.

Faizah sighs, her disappointment evident.

FAIZAH: You tried.

Resting her left hand on the man's head, she begins stroking it, petting him as lovingly as a master would his ever-loyal dog.

FAIZAH: (cont'd) I know you tried.

The demigoddess then tightens her grip and pulls his head back. Raising her right hand, she exposes the round, red jewel in the centre of her palm. Held in place by loops of black metal wire, the jewel comes alive with baleful light as she presses her hand upon the crown of his head and keeps it there. Immediately the operator's arms and legs shoot out stiff, his whole body spasming violently. His head itself begins vibrating at an unnatural rate, his facial features distorting radically, the skull losing the integrity of its shape, swelling and constricting like a thin bag of water. Once the punishment jewel has worked its dark magic — rearranging the operator's molecules, transfiguring him into a grotesque Picasso of hideously misaligned flesh and bone — Faizah closes her hand, deactivating the weapon.

FAIZAH: (sighs) Let this serve notice. I will not accept failure.​


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The long sandstorm has finally dissipated, allowing Abdju's trinary stars to burn bright in the vibrant yellow sky once more. As the Nagadans file out of the cave, ready to leave the hills for the open sands, the Earthlings stand off to the side of the rocky entrance, discussing their next course of action.

O'NEAL: (cont'd) It's too risky. We don't have time to orchestrate an uprising. We have to take fast and immediate action.

DANIEL: We can't just turn our back on the Nagadans. They only serve the Imperium because Atum's viceroys have used their technological superiority to maintain the illusion they're divine.

O'NEAL: We don't have any choice. All we can do is try and complete our mission.

FERETTI: Sir, we owe our lives to these kids. The least we could do —

O'NEAL: Forget it. I have my orders.

KAWALSKY: Then disobey orders.

O'NEAL: (bemused) Excuse me?

KAWALSKY: No, Daniel's right. We won't accomplish anything unless we tear down the Earth gate.

Daniel looks at Kawalsky, surprised and impressed, then back to O'Neal.

DANIEL: Captain, are you with us or not?

Everyone scrutinizes O'Neal, eagre to know his final decision.

O'NEAL: (sighs) It better work.


Within the central hall of the Palace of the Elders, a magnificent celebration is underway. A multitude of attractive dancers in scant clothing sway and leap and pirouette to the harmonies played by an accompanying band of musicians. Nearer to the back of the room, seated in regal chairs arranged in a semicircle facing the dancers, are the elders themselves. Behind the elders, seated upon a raised throne of platinum and gold, is a Heru Guard, his helm deployed, the turquoise eyes of his falconesque visage aglow. On either side of him stand his lieutenants, another two Heru Guards. Fearing no danger here, they wear their power armour retracted, revealing the close-fitting black bodysuits worn beneath the plates of bronze naqahdah.

As the dance continues, more than a dozen cloaked figures — hoods pulled up over their faces — enter the hall through one of the side doors, their arrival going all but unnoticed by the revellers captivated by the festivities. They don't go unnoticed for long. Pushing back his hood, O'Neal then unveils his pulse rifle — the same archaic single-barrelled rifle found in the ruins of Old Nagada. Taking aim, he unloads multiple shots in rapid succession, punching clean through the Heru Guards' bodysuits, cutting them down before they can react. The loud reports of plasmafire bring an immediate and abrupt end to the celebrations. Surrounding the remaining Heru Guard, O'Neal and his compatriots disarm him, pull him off his throne, training their M4s and captured energy weapons on the unarmed warrior. Initially dazed at this blatant act of blasphemy, the palace guards come out of their befuddlement to surround the intruders, bringing their muskets to bear. All are now trapped in a Mexican standoff.

Seeing his daughter among the assassins, Kasuf breaks through the palace guards, rushing up to her and grabbing her by the front of her robes, pulling her to him with fierce desperation in his wide brown eyes.

KASUF: (subtitled) You will bring disaster to all of us, daughter!

SHA'URE: (subtitled) Father, we will not remain in servitude to false gods!

Kasuf then begins ranting and raving, first to his daughter, then to the other Nagadans assisting the Terrans.

O'NEAL: Jackson, what's he saying?

DANIEL: He's saying we're going to bring a massacre down upon his people, that Atum will slaughter everyone who disobeys. Now he's telling them not to cooperate with us, not to anger the gods.

O'NEAL: Don't anger the gods, huh?

Heedless of the musket barrels trained on his back, O'Neal approaches the Heru Guard in the bronze armour. Leaning in close, he peers into the burning turquoise eyes of the falconesque countenance, wholly contemptuous of the being standing before him.

O'NEAL: (cont'd) This guy ain't no god!

Bringing up his pulse rifle, O'Neal unloads a plasma bolt at point-blank range into the mechanized falcon head, slagging it and catapulting the Heru Guard clear off his feet. As the Heru Guard lands on the other side of the room, his helm hopelessly damaged, it begins crackling with varicoloured energy, the atoms writhing and churning as the gaseous membrane holding them in place deteriorates. The compromised helm finally disintegrates, falling away in a cascade of glittering bronze sand, revealing the all-too human visage which is the true face of the Heru Guard. Kasuf, the other elders, the palace guards, and all the other revellers are struck dumb by the sight of the unmasked would-be god.

DANIEL: (to the Nagadans; subtitled) Take a look at your god! He is a man like any other!

The Heru Guard, struck senseless by the blast but otherwise unharmed, climbs back to his feet. His face contorted in rage at this gross violation of his person, he makes a dash for the captain, deploying his armour as he reaches for O'Neal's throat. Before O'Neal can defend himself, Daniel takes initiative. Bringing up his staff weapon, the Egyptologist opens fire on the Heru Guard, unloading four plasma bolts in quick succession. Three slam into his suit of armour, leaving only slight damage where they land, but the fourth takes the Heru Guard's unshielded head clean off. Daniel stands there, looking upon the warrior he just slew, staff weapon quivering in his shaking hands. This is the first time he's ever killed another human being.

O'NEAL: Not so easy, is it?

Gently pushing Daniel and the captain out of the way, Kasuf approaches the headless corpse. Looking upon it, his expression one of mixed shock and confusion, he takes off his outer robe, bends low, then drapes the robe over the body, hiding it from sight. He then gets down on his knees and begins to pray, the tones in his voice heavy with dread.

As the others gathered for the festivities join Kasuf, kneeling down on the floor to add their own lamentations and pleas for forgiveness to his, Daniel, O'Neal, and the others realize their effort to incite a rebellion has failed.​


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A pair of Heru Guards stand within the stargate chamber, facing the gate itself, which stands open, the chevrons and engravings aglow, its torus filled with rippling silver energy.

A TALL FIGURE emerges from the stargate, the white glow enveloping it fading as it regains three-dimensional form. Clad in a hooded robe of some shimmering black material, the figure is nine feet tall, the fingers of its hands exceptionally long. As it pulls its hood back, though, it reveals itself to be — if not strictly Homo sapiens — still a member of the same genus. Stepping aside, the tall figure allows SIX MORE INDIVIDUALS to step through the portal. These beings are short, squat, and muscular — dwarvish — but also still of human extraction. Between them they carry a large crate.

As the dwarves set the crate down, one of the Heru Guards approaches the crate. At the lanky being's command, the dwarves lift the crate lid away, exposing the bricks inside. The bricks are of iridescent gray crystal — weapons-grade naqahdah.


Faizah is seated at the long table, engaged in a senet match with one of her servants. Moving an obelisk-shaped game piece, she takes one of her opponent's. At that moment, Sihathor and two other Heru Guards enter the room.

SIHATHOR: The shipment of naqahdah has arrived, Lady Faizah.

FAIZAH: (concentrating on game) Send the bomb down to the stargate.

With one commanding look from Sihathor, the two falcon-headed guards collect the tray bearing the nuclear bomb and head off for the ring transporter.


More than a dozen figures emerge from the desert en route for the pyramid. Kawalsky, Feretti, Brown, and the Nagadan kids walk forward with their hands behind their heads, a pair of armed Heru Guards shepherding them from behind. There is no sign of Daniel or O'Neal among the captives.


Silver light cascades through the rings and the pair of Heru Guards with the bomb materialize inside. As the transporter deactivates, the rings retracting back into the ceiling, the Heru Guards head for the gate chamber.


The Heru Guards carry the bomb-laden tray over to the open crate of naqahdah bricks. Lifting the tray up, they set it down atop the bricks, then proceed to head back out.


Inside the entrance hall, the pair of Heru Guards and their captives make their way into the antechamber. As they approach, the two Heru Guards who delivered the bomb step out. An armoured warrior lifts his hand, commanding them to halt. One of the shepherding Heru Guards approaches this warrior.

HERU GUARD #1: (subtitled) We caught the First Worlders and their helpers attempting to sneak back into the city. We've brought them here, as Lady Faizah commanded.

HERU GUARD #2: (scrutinizes captives; subtitled) Where are the commander and scribe?

HERU GUARD #1: (subtitled) Killed in the firefight.

HERU GUARD #2: (subtitled) Why didn't you report their capture?

HERU GUARD #1: (subtitled) Our transmitters were disabled.

The Heru Guard studies the other, blue-green eyes in search of some hidden untruth.

HERU GUARD #2: (subtitled) Disengage your exohelm.

The other refuses to respond. Unholstering his pulse rifle, the suspicious Heru Guard approaches the other's companion.

HERU GUARD #2: (angry; subtitled) Disengage your exohelm!

Rather than obey, the silent Heru Guard brings up his own pulse rifle — single-barrelled — and jabs it into the Heru Guard's stomach.

O'NEAL: How ya doin'?

An orange plasma bolt tears through the Heru Guard's armour and gut, the kinetic energy of the impact hurtling him backward. As the dead Heru Guard hits the floor, O'Neal and Daniel disengage their falcon helms, bringing their pulse rifles on the remaining Heru Guard. Another pair of Heru Guards who had secreted themselves in the shadows of the entrance hall come out into the open to assist their brother-in-arms. The resulting firefight is incredibly, intensely bloody. The three armoured Heru Guards prove formidable opponents, avoiding direct hits from the pulse rifles, staff weapon, and M4s of the Terrans and Nagadans long enough to kill several of their opponents.

In the end, only five individuals are left standing: O'Neal, Daniel, Kawalsky, Sha'ure, and Skarra. Feretti, Brown, and Nabeh are all dead, more unfortunate casualties of this war.


Faizah is still engaged in the senet match with her manservant. By all appearances, she has the upper hand. Sihathor enters again.

SIHATHOR: You summoned me, Lady?

Taking her attention from the game for a moment, Faizah gestures for the armoured warrior to come to her.

FAIZAH: Send the bomb to Earth now.

Sihathor bows his head once in acknowledgement, then turns and leaves the chambers.


O'Neal, Daniel, Kawalsky, Sha'ure, and Skarra enter the chamber. As Skarra and Sha'ure see the stargate for the first time in their lives, their mouths fall agape, captivated by and in awe of this magnificent ring of iridescent black stone.

O'NEAL: Okay, Jackson, fire it up.

Heading for the dialling device, Daniel whips out his notebook and flips to the page with the address for Earth. When he goes to punch in the first glyph, though, the panel won't depress, won't light up, and neither does the stargate. He tries other glyph panels, all to the same effect.

DANIEL: (frowns) Something's wrong.

Leaving the dais, he steps up to the gate itself. Taking hold of the inner ring, he tries turning it, but the thing won't budge.

DANIEL: I don't believe it!


DANIEL: They've sealed the gate!

Joining Daniel at the gate, he, too, tries turning the ring. It still won't move.

KAWALSKY: He's right, Captain. It's locked up tight!

Before they can consider their next course of action, a Heru Guard — grievously wounded, dying, but not yet dead — enters the chamber, double-barrelled pulse rifle in hand. As he levels his weapon at O'Neal, Skarra jumps between them.

O'NEAL: (horrified) Skarra!

Skarra opens fire with his M4. The bullets make no mark on the Heru Guard's bronze armour but pass through the holes already present, punching through the underlying flesh easily. As he falls backward, the dying Heru Guard triggers his weapon one last time, firing off a shot which cuts straight through the boy. O'Neal fires several shots off into the Heru Guard, finishing him once and for all.

Tossing the weapon aside, O'Neal crouches down, taking the mortally wounded Skarra in his arms. As the boy looks up at the captain, he smiles one last, faint smile. He then leaves this world, departing for whatever waits beyond.


As Sihathor steps up onto the ring platform, he turns around, face of unyielding rock facing forward. He presses the round blue gem set in the back of his left gauntlet, activating the ring transporter. As the five black rings come up from the platform to surround him, Sihathor engages his helm, swapping one countenance of living stone for another.


As the aperture in the antechamber ceiling opens, Daniel takes up his pulse rifle and crosses over into the antechamber, positioning himself under the ten black rings as they descend. Sha'ure joins him. Despite his protests, he cannot turn her away.

O'NEAL: Jackson!

As O'Neal and Kawalsky approach the lovers, the rings encircle the scholar and Nagadan beauty.

DANIEL: Wait for us.

With a flash of silver light, they are gone, replaced with Sihathor. As the rings return to their compartment, the Heru Guard swats O'Neal across the face, knocking the captain aside. He then points his pulse rifle at Kawalsky, firing off a bolt which catches the sergeant in the chest, sending him flying backward.


As the rings return to their compartment under the platform, Daniel and Sha'ure find themselves on the bridge of the She Who Mauls. Sha'ure, accustomed to Industrial Age trappings, is nearly overwhelmed by the Type II technology surrounding her now.

SHA'URE: The chariot of the gods. (beat) Daniel, we shouldn't be here.

Taking Sha'ure by the hand, Daniel steps down from the ring platform and, turning left, takes them to an open doorway leading off the bridge.


As Kawalsky's still form rests upon the floor where it fell, smoke rising from the smouldering fabric of his robes, O'Neal grapples with Sihathor. Having seized hold of the Heru Guard's pulse rifle, his strength magnified by the stolen power armour he wears, the captain tries wrenching it free of the extraterrestrial warrior's grasp. Sihathor's own armour-augmented strength is just as considerable, however, so the Terran manages to do nothing but trigger the weapon accidentally, blowing the weapon up in both their hands as the burning plasma reflects and refracts against their armoured gauntlets.

Pushed away from Sihathor by the blast, O'Neal hits the floor, rolling over to come beside the copper-plated staff weapon which has lain discarded since Kawalsky fell. He takes the sceptre and, fighting through his dizziness, pushes himself back up. As he brings the staff weapon around, priming it for fire, Sihathor grabs the head of the staff, pointing it away from him, locking the weapon in place between the two of them. As O'Neal grimaces, fighting to free the staff weapon, the Heru Guard disengages his helm. As the falcon's head retracts, Sihathor's cruel face — gray and granite — is revealed once more. A mirthless grin coming to his thin lips, Sihathor forms a fist and brings it down on the shaft of the staff, snapping the weapon clean in two.


The senet game continues. As her opponent makes his tentative move, Faizah smiles wryly, then picks up her own piece.


As Sihathor takes a swing at him, O'Neal ducks, then sends an uppercut to the Heru Guard's right armpit. Feeling the blow even through his protective armour, Sihathor doubles over. Spying the M4 of a slain Nagadan within reach, O'Neal makes a leap for the firearm. Sihathor recovers quickly enough to take hold of O'Neal in midleap, preventing him from obtaining the gun. Bearing his teeth, he hoists the captain up then heaves him into a wall.


Moving her piece, Faizah takes her servant's last remaining pyramid. The game is won.

DANIEL: (O.C.) Senet?

Hearing his voice, Faizah turns her head, finding Daniel and Sha'ure standing in the doorway, pulse rifles fixed on her position. She doesn't seem the least bit surprised or perturbed at their presence aboard the ship.

FAIZAH: Indeed. (smiles) Do you play?

DANIEL: After a fashion.

FAIZAH: (to manservant) You may go.

As the servant rises to leave, Sha'ure turns her rifle on him. As he freezes, terrified, Faizah rises from her chair, not at all worried.

FAIZAH: (points at Sha'ure) Who is your companion?

DANIEL: Just one of the locals. (tightens grip on rifle) Now sit back down.

Disinterested in Daniel's order, Faizah leaves her side of the table to join her servant. Placing an arm around his naked shoulders, she begins stroking his hairless chest.

FAIZAH: Why come here now?

DANIEL: I think the answer's obvious.

Smiling, Faizah shakes her head slightly, amused as if by some private joke.

FAIZAH: You've come demanding access to the stargate. (beat) It's yours — provided you have the key.

DANIEL: (puzzled) Key?


With O'Neal bloody and bashed, on the verge of black unconsciousness, Sihathor turns his back to him. He will finish the Terran off — most slowly, most painfully, and at his own leisure — after he has completed the business he was sent here to complete.

Crossing to the bomb, the Heru Guard stands it up on end. Setting the timer, he activates the weapon. Satisfied the weapon has begun its countdown, he takes the pendant clasped around his neck and lifts it to the stargate. The Eye of Atum glows, coming alive with golden light.


DANIEL: No more games, Faizah. Unseal the gate and let us return home or —

FAIZAH: You'll fire upon me? Cut me down with your rifle? (grins) Such weapons failed against me before.

DANIEL: You aren't in your armour now.

Faizah looks upon herself. The robe she wears is of dark brown silk; it hasn't the ability to withstand a sharply thrown pebble, let alone a searing plasma bolt.

FAIZAH: Very, very clever.

Faizah shoves her servant aside as she raises her right hand, exposing the punishment jewel. Activating it, a kawoosh effect not unlike the stargate's is unleashed, striking the two humans, hurtling them backward, parting them from their weapons.

FAIZAH: Now you can die together.


As the pendant glows in Sihathor's hand, the entire stargate powers up, unleashing a geyser blast of glowing quicksilver to form a bridge back to Terra.

As Sihathor stands basking in the silver light of the rippling puddle, O'Neal picks himself up and staggers over to a pulse rifle lying on the floor. Picking it up, he takes aim, wavers on unsteady knees, then fires. The plasma bolt blasts right through the bomb's arming mechanism, disabling it automatically. Spinning around, Sihathor finds O'Neal standing there with the rifle in hand. Growling, he takes a running leap for the captain.


Faizah strides forward, dark folds of her brown robe unfurling behind her like the wings of a fallen angel as she approaches Sha'ure. Battered but alert, Sha'ure scurries backward, fishing around inside her robes until she gets her hands on a pistol. As she pulls it out, Faizah lunges, seizing the girl's wrist in her right hand, knocking her aim off as she pulls the trigger. Activating the punishment jewel, the demigoddess begins rearranging the atoms in Sha'ure's forearm.


Faizah releases Sha'ure's arm before the jewel can work any serious damage, taking a step back as the Nagadan girl cradles her wrist in agony, evaluating the helpless creature.

FAIZAH: (to Daniel) You would spurn my love for this waif? (laughs sardonically)

Faizah brings her hand up again, reactivating the punishment jewel — not to realign the molecules of Sha'ure's body this time, but to pulverize it into the floor with a force blast.


Collecting himself, Daniel rushes headlong for Faizah, but the demigoddess is quick to redirect her blast, knocking the Egyptologist back as he comes within reach of her.

FAIZAH: (frowns) I am no longer amused.

Leaving Sha'ure where she lies, Faizah moves over to Daniel. Crouching over him, she seizes the crown of his head in her right hand, engaging the dark jewel within the centre of her palm to deliver him a most grisly finale.


O'Neal seizes Sihathor in a bear hug as he comes to him. Wheeling him around, the captain headbutts him, breaking the Heru Guard's nose. Using fists, knees, and elbows, O'Neal turns the tables against Faizah's first. Locking his leg around Sihathor's, he brings the Heru Guard crashing down. Pinning Sihathor in place, O'Neal then brings his heavy armoured boot down on his throat, bringing this contest to a close.


Faizah and Daniel are locked together, her hand upon his head, the energies of her punishment jewel wreaking havoc upon his nervous system, paralyzing him in place.

FAIZAH: Do you enjoy the kiss of the punishment jewel? It works on the same principles as the stargates, applied to much deadlier effect.

Daniel's very face begins rippling, the molecules swelling and contracting. Within seconds, Daniel will be dead.

Sha'ure then comes to Daniel's aid. Attacking Faizah, she elbows the larger woman in the back. Faizah's concentration broken, the punishment jewel goes dim. Turning on her heel, she backhands Sha'ure across the face, sending her sprawling and quickly ending her role in this fight. With the matter-displacing energies of the punishment jewel no longer working upon him, however, Daniel's been bought the seconds of clarity he needs. Lunging at Faizah, Daniel sends his hand forth, plunging it deep inside her abdominal pouch. Pulling the prim'ta out, Daniel tosses the white worm clear across the room — much to Faizah's most evident horror.


All thoughts of anything else forgotten, Faizah rushes over to the prim'ta, intent on preserving its health. Daniel and Sha'ure are quick to use this opportunity to escape.


O'Neal enters the antechamber, dragging Sihathor's body behind him. Bringing it around, he deposits it directly beneath the inactive ring transporter.


Having returned to the bridge, Daniel and Sha'ure head over to the ring transporter. Climbing atop the platform, they then hear the mindless raging of Faizah in the distance.


O'Neal regards the body of Sihathor. Meeting the sightless eyes which stare straight upward, bright against the otherwise blood-darkened face, he then spies the gold pendant still entangled around his neck. Bending low, the captain retrieves it.

O'NEAL: Give my regards to the Pussy Queen, asshole.

The captain presses the colourless gem adorning his left gauntlet, activating the ring transporter.


Sha'ure and Daniel are still waiting on the platform when Faizah enters. Face dark and contorted with rage, she charges them.

The ring transporter activates at that very moment. White light shining up from the platform under their feet, the five rings rise to surround the pair, cutting Faizah off from them. With a flash of silver light, they are teleported away, Sihathor's severed head taking their place upon the platform.

Faizah roars.


The ring transporter disengages. Daniel and Sha'ure find themselves back down inside the pyramid. O'Neal is there waiting for them, face hard, the pendant clasped in his hand. Sha'ure recoils when she spots the decapitated body lying at their feet.


O'Neal, Daniel, and Sha'ure enter the stargate chamber. The stargate has returned to its dormant state, the connection to Earth severed once again.

O'NEAL: (hands pendant to Daniel) It's a key to the stargate. It can open the door to Earth. It can probably open other doors, too.

Slipping the pendant inside a pocket, Daniel crosses over to the dialling device and punches in the nine-symbol address for Earth, this time meeting no resistance. The stargate reopened, Daniel takes Sha'ure by the arm and takes a step toward the gate. She keeps him from stepping through, though, once she hears a groan. Leaving the gate, they cross over to Kawalsky. As they examine him, looking him over for wounds, they open his robes, revealing he has been wearing a suit of Heru Guard armour under them this whole time. The plasma bolt laid him flat, but the armour saved his life.

Picking Kawalsky's limp form up between them, Daniel and Sha'ure head for the stargate. They only stop when they notice O'Neal isn't joining them. Indeed, he has turned his attention to the bomb. In between the killing of Sihathor and the beaming of his head up to the pyramid ship, O'Neal spent his time tinkering with the nuke. A makeshift dead man's switch has been jury-rigged into the weapon.

DANIEL: (dumbfounded) I thought we agreed to dismantle the gate on the other side.

O'NEAL: And you will. That's your job now.

Taking the switch in hand, O'Neal engages it.

O'NEAL: (cont'd) I'm gonna stay here, make sure this goes off.

Daniel is ready to protest, but the captain silences him with a steely gaze.

O'NEAL: (face softens) I'll be seeing you around, Dr. Jackson.

Resigned to the captain's decision, Daniel exchanges solemn glances with Sha'ure. Together, Kawalsky held between them, they step through the stargate, leaving the pyramid, Nagada, and the whole of Abdju behind for all time. O'Neal watches the lovers vanish through the portal, his gaze lingering there for several moments.

As the ring transporter activates, O'Neal turns his attention to the antechamber. The ten rings pile over the floor, white light shining through them.

O'NEAL: (shuts eyes tight) Sarah….

Silver light passes through the rings, then the transporter deactivates, leaving Faizah and seven Heru Guards standing there, all attired in their armour, armed with pulse rifles.

Capt. Jack O'Neal releases the switch and the world goes white.


Daniel, Sha'ure, and Kawalsky are spewed from the gate into the dark abyss of the embarkation room. Hitting the ramp, they take a roll, tumbling end-over-end until they come to a stop near the base.

After tending to Sha'ure as her first bout of gate sickness takes hold, after checking Kawalsky to make certain the master sergeant suffered no further injuries transiting through the stargate, Daniel turns to look upon the glowing doorway which links Earth and Abdju. There then is a sudden burst of intense white light and that link is violently severed, casting them in pitch darkness.


THIRD DRAFT: 2019/06/04

S. D. G.​


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I recently finished the fifth draft of this screenplay. The main beats are the same, though I've updated the setting to the present decade, among miscellaneous other changes. Here's the PDF for anyone wanting to check it out:

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