Scattered bits of bursting flame dancing and whirling in the velvet of the night skies. The ever-constant presence of night adorned with stars. Luminous constellations winked down at him from above, constant as a mother's love offering subtle direction and guidance.

Jack O'Neill loved fireworks. And, as long as they were not on a battlefield surrounded by enemy fire, he loved explosions, loud noises and brightly colored lights. He loved picnics filled with comrades who'd survived and sipping a few beers on a hot summer night; just sitting back and watching the show. Ah, yes, Independence Day!

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