This was submitted to the fanfiction contest at and…astonishingly enough, it won first place. My thanks to Barry for holding the contest and for supporting my favorite 'redheaded bastard stepchild'. ;)
Skirmish
By
Denise
Jonas stepped out onto the balcony, gratefully leaving the noise and chatter of the reception behind. Kelowna was different than he remembered. The planet was quieter and a general air of unease hung over the city.
"I do hope that you are not thinking of jumping," Ambassador Dreylock said, her voice carefully pitched to carry across the balcony but no further. "The work crew just barely completed cleaning up the mess left by Anubis' Jaffa in time for the reception. I fear they will not be pleased if I have to call them back."
Jonas smiled slightly and sighed. If he had gained little else from his time on Earth, it was a greater appreciation of dry wit and a quirky sense of humor. "I just needed some air," he said, glancing over at her as she joined him. "Even when I was at the Science Academy, I was never a fan of receptions."
Dreylock was dressed like she always did, her taste leaning towards muted colors and delicate tailoring. Her manicured hands wrapped lightly around the metal railings and her auburn hair was upswept. Jonas wondered idly if she ever let it down or if she always attempted to put forth a collected and dignified air.
"I am afraid that seeking refuge is a common occurrence when one is in the presence of the Tiranian and Andari representatives," she said. "Although, I am sure that they say the same about us."
"Are they still discussing the reparations we owe them?" Jonas asked. Even though he had only met with the two new councillors once, that short meeting was enough to tell him that the years of bitterness between the three continents of his planet had not abated in the slightest.
"I believe so," she said, shaking her head slightly. "In truth, I often reach a certain point where I cease to fully pay attention," she confessed.
"I would have thought that the imminent threat by the Goa'uld would be enough to calm things down a bit," Jonas said. "If anything, the hostility is worse."
"They are frightened and need someone to blame," Dreylock said. "Do you miss it?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly as she turned to look him in the eyes.
"Miss what?"
"Earth. The SGC. Your friends."
Jonas opened his mouth to deny, surprising himself when he answered in the affirmative. "Yeah."
Dreylock smiled. "That is what I thought."
"Am I that transparent?"
"I saw the expression on your face when you returned from Earth."
Jonas nodded. He would need to work on that. In one way, politicians were like soldiers, and the best soldiers, like Colonel O'Neill, did not easily reveal what they were feeling.
"You can return you know," she said after a few minutes.
"What?" Jonas frowned.
Dreylock shrugged. "You are a traitor to Kelowna. No one would be surprised if you chose to leave us once again. Especially in light of recent events."
"Most of those recent events were my fault," he said, admitting for the first time to one of his own people his role in Anubis' attack.
"How do you mean?"
"Anubis captured me. He pulled knowledge of Kelowna, of the naqadria, from my mind. He came here because of me," Jonas said his stomach still roiling at the thought of all the heartache and grief his capture had caused. How many people were dead because of him? Portions of the capitol city were in ruins, and it was his fault.
Dreylock shook her head. "He would have come anyway."
"You don't know that."
"If what your friends said was true, Anubis is on the move. He would have come here eventually. It is possible that the knowledge he gained from you altered his plans," she conceded. "However, it could also be argued that, in forcing you to feel that you needed to defect in protest to Doctor Jackson's death, we set events into motion that led up to the attack. But you are not to blame, Jonas," she said. "You and your friends stopped Anubis. That is what matters."
"Not to them," Jonas said, jerking his head back towards the door and the reception. He knew full well that once the two other representatives found out why Anubis attacked Kelowna, they definitely wouldn't want him as part of their group. "Even though I couldn't stop Anubis from probing my mind, it doesn't change the fact that he learned about the naqadria from me. He came here because of me."
"Jonas, they will take offense at the color of your tunic," she replied. "It does not matter how events came to happen, they have happened and we cannot undo them. The Tiranian and Andari will cling to any idea to avoid the truth, that if we, as a planet, wish to survive, we must unite. And to unite, all of us must make concessions."
"Even Kelowna?" Jonas asked pointedly.
"Even Kelowna." She sighed and patted his arm. "Do not remain out here too long. It is never good to leave the Andari and Tiranians alone. One never knows what plots they will concoct."
She left and slipped back through the glass paned doors, rejoining the reception. Jonas turned back to look out over the city. It spread out in front of him, glimmering lights stretching from horizon to horizon, sometimes obscured by lingering traces of smoke from the fires. Once, he had deemed it the largest city in existence. Everyone knew that the Tiranian and Andari cities were not as good. Everyone knew that they were smaller, dirtier and more crowded. Everyone knew that they were jealous of Kelowna, envious of its advanced technology and riches.
Jonas snorted, shaking his head slightly. Propaganda. That's all it was, propaganda.
The three continents of his planet had been at odds with each other for centuries, so long that no one really knew how it had all begun. All they knew was that anyone who wasn't one of their own, was 'bad'.
Somehow, Jonas needed to change that. The only way they could fight the goa'uld was if they fought together, fought as one. A united race instead of warring factions.
And that, apparently, was his job. That was what they'd chosen him for.
He let that thought reassure him. They had chosen him. The people of his planet wanted him to help them. And he couldn't ignore that. His planet was important, more important than any one person or any single act. They wanted him to do a job and that was what he was going to do.
Heartened by his thoughts, he took a deep breath and turned, doing his best to school his face into a welcoming and calm mask. If his goal was to unify his people, he needed to interact with them, no matter how onerous that task was.
Bolstering his self confidence, he returned to the reception, reassuring himself that, if it got too bad, he could always use his injury as a valid excuse to return to his rooms.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Three days later, Jonas sat at a large wooden table, struggling to hide his annoyance as Councilor Tarsis made a show of slowly reading the report before her. Jonas, First Minister Dreylock and Councilor Aramel each had a copy in front of them. It listed the losses and damage Kelowna had suffered in Anubis' attack, including a list of the injured and dead.
It also contained information he and Daniel had translated from the limited time they'd had to work with the data crystal, including the probable identity of the goa'uld who'd enslaved their planet millennia ago.
"Would you like me to read it aloud?" Councilor Aramel asked, his deep voice rife with derision. "Or perhaps just a summary..."
"I am well aware of what it says," Tarsis answered, dramatically dropping the piece of paper onto the table. "What I am curious about is why I should care?" She made a dismissive motion with her hand. "I see nothing in here that pertains to Andaria."
"Kelowna suffered the brunt of Anubis' attack," Dreylock said, her tone cloyingly calm.
"A fate which they brought upon themselves," Tarsis dismissed.
"A large portion of our industrial sector is gone. Our factories are destroyed."
"Again, this is not my problem," Tarsis said. "My interest lies solely in ascertaining that my people are told no more lies. And to insure that we are permitted access to the Stargate and any riches recovered through it."
"Your share of riches recovered through it," Aramel said.
"And I see that the Tiranians are keeping up the fine tradition of subjugating the Andari," Tarsis shot back, glaring at Aramel. To his credit, he showed little reaction save for his dark eyes narrowing and his fingers tightening over the pen he was holding.
"One person's subjugation is another person's benevolent leadership," he said.
"You were benevolent when you rounded up Andari citizens and murdered them in cold blood?" Her voice increased in pitch and volume, the tone of her voice not matching the image she put forth with her neatly coifed hair and smart white suit.
"The only Andari we rounded up were murders and assassins. You should thank us for eliminating the problem for you," Aramel retorted.
"Perhaps if you allowed us to return the favor."
"Councilors!" Jonas said loudly, doing is best to imitate Colonel O'Neill's irritated voice. "We are here to discuss the future of this planet and what role the Stargate will play, not to relive old issues."
"Those 'old issues' have a direct bearing upon our future," Aramel said.
"They are proof that the Kelownans cannot be trusted," Tarsis said.
"I thought it was the Tiranians you did not trust," Dreylock said pointedly, glaring at the other woman.
"After centuries of oppression, the only people the Andari fully trust are themselves."
"Yet, you allied yourselves with the Tirani," Dreylock said.
"Only after you detonated a bomb with the potential…"
Jonas lowered his head, massaging his forehead with the fingers of his left hand. It shouldn't be this difficult. They all knew what the goa'uld were and the danger that Kelowna faced. Jonas didn't delude himself that Anubis was dead. Anubis would be back, it was just a matter of time. And if they weren't ready, they would all be destroyed.
"ENOUGH!" Jonas shouted, getting to his feet. "I don't understand you. This planet was nearly destroyed and all you can do is bicker about trivial things when what we should be doing is to find a way to defend this planet."
The three councilors stared at him for a few seconds before Tarsis shook her head. "Anubis' ship was destroyed."
"He has more."
"He died," Aramel said.
"Trust me, they don't die that easily," Jonas said. "He'll be back. And even if it's not him, eventually the other goa'uld will find out about the naqadria and they'll come here trying to get their hands on it." He took a deep breath and leaned over the table. "And the longer you sit here and squabble like a bunch of spoiled children, the easier it'll be."
"I will not be spoken to in such a manner," Tarsis said, dramatically getting to her feet.
"Nor I," Aramel agreed, standing up with such force that his chair toppled backwards.
The pair of them stalked from the room as Jonas watched helplessly. "I don't understand," he said as soon as they were gone. He turned back to face Dreylock.
"They may be acting like spoiled children, however few enjoy being told that," she said dryly, gathering her papers and placing them into her folder.
"Why won't they listen to me?" Jonas asked, moving around the table.
"Jonas?" Dreylock frowned.
"This is the third meeting we've had. In every single one of them, they don't listen to what I say. They won't consider anything I suggest, in fact, all they do is sit there and complain and fight and…" He trailed off, raising his hands helplessly. "What am I doing wrong?"
Dreylock shook her head. "You are not doing anything wrong," she said. "Any time you deal with the Tiranians and Andari, patience is required." She shrugged. "Tis the way of politics."
Jonas shook his head. "It's not that. First Minister, they chose me. You said it yourself, they would only participate in the ruling council if I was a part."
"Jonas—"
"Why won't they listen to me?" he interrupted.
Dreylock sighed, looking down at her feet before setting her folder of papers upon the table. She motioned for Jonas to sit as she drew out a chair. "Jonas, I think that perhaps—" she broke off, staring down at her hands before she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "I have done you a great insult," she confessed.
"What are you talking about?"
"When I told you that your people needed you—"
"You lied?"
She shook her head. "No. The people of this planet DO need you. However…you believe that the Tiranian and Andari ambassadors want you to help them, don't you?"
Jonas nodded. "That's what you said. That they would only agree to this alliance if I was a part of it."
"Jonas, you were their choice not because they wanted you…but because they knew that you were a traitor and they expected me to protest," she said softly.
"How do you mean?"
"The Tiranians and Andari support you because you betrayed Kelowna. They believe that, in supporting you, I am making a great concession to them. I was aware of how they felt and I allowed it to continue."
"So, I'm not the choice because everyone wanted me, but because no one wanted me?" Jonas asked, swallowing to quell the knot of bitterness that was settling in the pit of his stomach.
Dreylock smiled slightly. "Yes," she confirmed. She reached out, touching his arm. "Jonas, I believe that you betrayed us, not out of anger or a lust for power, but in an attempt to gain the greater good. You did what you did for the whole planet, not just one part of it. That is the attitude that we need to lead us."
"Thank you for telling me, First Minister," Jonas said, sliding his chair back. He avoided her tentative touch and ignored her sincere words. "I appreciate your candor." He turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the room, desperately hoping that he could return to his room unobserved. It was bad enough that he had been a fool, he just hoped that he'd be spared the humiliation of everyone knowing just how stupid he'd been.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Jonas stalked into his apartment, the sound of the slamming door echoing off the bare walls. He stomped past the couch, batting petulantly at one of the decorative pillows, taking little pleasure as it skittered across the bare floor and settled against the far wall.
'The Tiranians and Andari support you because you betrayed Kelowna. They believe that, in supporting you, I am making a great concession to them. I was aware of how they felt and I allowed it to continue.'
He should have known. He knew his people. He should have realized that they wouldn't change so quickly. He should have known that they weren't welcoming him back with open arms and out of the goodness of their hearts.
Just like the humans, who only gave him sanctuary after he'd brought them naqadria and used it to pay his way into their good graces.
'Jonas...I understand why you want to join SG-1...and I'm sorry but...I just don't see it happening.'
She was wrong. One of the few times Sam had been wrong. Of course, Jonas still didn't know if it was because Colonel O'Neill had honestly changed his mind or because he saw him as marginally better than the Russians.
'You earned it.'
Maybe he had. Maybe he had honestly earned his place on the team
'What I did, I did for my people. In time, they came to understand this.'
'Well, I don't think my people are ever gonna have a chance to know the truth.'
'Then you must draw strength in knowing that your cause is just…and one day your people will benefit from the sacrifices that you have made.'
They knew the truth now. Or most of it anyway. His people, no, not his people. All the people of his planet now knew that they weren't alone.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
That was one of the curious expressions he'd picked up from the humans. It'd worked for the Andari and Tiranians. The two countries had overcome centuries of enmity to stand up to the Kelownans. And they all hated him, probably more than they hated the goa'uld.
Maybe that was it. If he couldn't get them to rally behind him, maybe he could get them to rally against him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Just put it over there," Jonas instructed, stepping out of the workmen's way. He watched them struggle with the heavy table, finally placing it in the center of the room.
"What about the other one?" the foreman asked, pointing at the old table that was lying – in pieces – in the anteroom. Jonas certainly hadn't wanted to destroy it, but the table had simply been too big to fit out the door.
"What is the meaning of this?" Councilor Tarsis' shrill voice sliced through the room. Jonas swore that he saw one of the workmen actually cringe.
"Put it somewhere where no one can find it," Jonas instructed, keeping his voice low. He pressed a small quantity of cash into the man's hand.
"Yes, sir," the foreman said, giving Jonas a knowing look. He and his crew hurried from the room, one of them taking the time to eye Tarsis appreciatively before cowering under an icy glare.
"Jonas, what's going on?" Dreylock asked.
"Where is my chair?" Aramel demanded.
"There's been a small change," Jonas said, pasting a patient smile on his face. "In this room, there are no more special chairs. No more imported delicacies. No more sides." He motioned towards the small round table that had replaced the large rectangular one. "In this room, we are ALL equals."
He pulled one of four identical chairs forward and sat down, leaning his elbows on the polished wood surface. The three councilors stood in their places, silently glancing from one to another.
Jonas waited a few more seconds, then leaned back, snagging his bag off a ledge. He pulled out four folders and took one, sliding the rest into the center of the table. Dreylock, Aramel and Tarsis stared at him.
"Only the people SITTING at this table can make decisions," he said pointedly.
They stood there, Tarsis crossing her arms across her chest. With a small sigh, Dreylock stepped forward, claiming a chair across from Jonas. After a few seconds, Aramel and Tarsis joined them.
"The only way we can defend this planet against the goa'uld is as ONE people. As of this moment, we are not Kelownan, Andari or Tiranian," he declared.
"What, then, do you propose we call ourselves?" Aramel demanded.
"The humans call this planet P2S4C3."
"That's ghastly," Tarsis said, literally wrinkling her nose in distaste.
"I agree," Jonas said.
"Perhaps we should choose one of our continents to be a spokesperson for—"
"No," Jonas interrupted. "Ten thousand years ago, the people of our planet – our ancestors – united to overthrow Thanos and earned their freedom. In those folders is what we've been able to translate of the history of that time." He opened his folder and held up a sheaf of papers. "As a symbol of our new unity, we will choose a name or word from that history to be the new name of our planet."
"I don't see what difference a name will make," Dreylock said.
"And I do not understand why we must choose a new name," Tarsis said, pushing her folder away.
"Because I said we do," Jonas declared.
"And why should we care what you say?" Aramel demanded.
"Because I've been out there. I've seen them, fought them, defeated them. And if you don't listen to me, I'm going to take my knowledge and go back to Earth and let the goa'uld come and massacre you all," he said.
"You wouldn't dare," Aramel said, his dark eyes narrowing.
Jonas shrugged. "Why not? My goal has always been to do what's best for this planet."
"Letting us fall to the goa'uld is best?" Dreylock asked.
Jonas shrugged again. "The one thing standing in the way of Unification is the three governments' refusal to cooperate." He deliberately looked each councilor in the eye. "And the first thing the goa'uld take out when they attack is the governing bodies. With you out of the way, the survivors will be more than happy to unify and work together."
"You would condemn us to death?" Tarsis asked, getting to her feet.
"You already are." Jonas got to his feet as well. "All of you, with your ceaseless bickering and fighting." He took a deep breath and made a show of calming himself. "Now, you will sit down and you will choose a new name for this planet, or I shall choose it for you." Tarsis huffed. "Maybe something that starts with a Q."
She sank back into her seat and opened the folder, Aramel and Dreylock following suit. They began to discuss the various options and Jonas leaned back in his chair, meeting Dreylock's gaze. The woman smiled slightly, giving him a barely perceptible nod, before she turned her attention to the discussion.
The enemy of my enemy, Jonas thought. He could do this. After all, it was much easier to make people hate you than to make them like you.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I still hate it," Dreylock said softly, holding her folder to her chest as she moved closer to Jonas' side.
"It was what they chose," Jonas said, shrugging.
"Yes, but, Langara?"
"It was the only term that was in the history of all three continents." Jonas didn't care for the name either but it was the one Tarsis and Aramel had voted on.
"This was, a rather unique approach," Dreylock said, motioning towards the new furniture.
"It's something I picked up from Colonel O'Neill," Jonas said, smiling fondly at his memories of the colonel's rather blunt style of negotiations.
"I fear that it will not make you popular with them," Dreylock said.
"It doesn't matter if I'm popular."
Dreylock stared at him, scrutinizing him closely. "You're going to withdraw from the council, aren't you?"
Jonas smiled. "Not totally. First Minister, my goal has always been do to what's best for this planet. Right now, what's best is not going to be accomplished in this room."
"Where will it be accomplished then?"
"We need to rebuild. And we need to create and produce weapons that we can use to defend this planet. I learned a lot while I was gone and I think I can put that knowledge to use."
"You're going back to the Science Academy."
Jonas nodded. "Among other places."
Dreylock nodded. "You know, Commander Hale kept meticulous records of everything and everyone. Including many projects that even I had no knowledge of. Perhaps there is something in there that will assist you."
"You would to that?" Jonas asked.
Dreylock smiled. "I may hold some very deep preference for my home continent, however if our planet is destroyed, it will be too. I'll have the files sent over first thing in the morning."
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Jonas sighed, picking up his papers as he studied the table one last time.
'There are many battles still to be fought, Jonas Quinn.'
Teal'c was right, he would have many more battles to fight. But as long as Kelow—Langara survived, it would be worth it.