Letting Go Chapter 2

Extended Scene – Revanna - An Unlikely Coincidence

Jack looked up as the last Jaffa fell under the loud bursts from staff weapon and P90, meeting Teal'c's steady gaze. They'd retrieved a double-handful of the tunnel-excavating crystals from the science lab, but the echo of weapons fire was sure to bring any marauding Jaffa running to their location – they couldn't risk the time to search for Carter's communication device. He saw agreement in his teammate's eyes and tilted his head towards the doorway that would lead them back to the small room where they'd stashed his 2IC and the newly 'blended' – Jack cringed at the idea - Lt. Elliot. Teal'c moved quickly and nodded once to Jack over his shoulder before edging into the deserted – for now – corridor. Jack followed.

A few twists and turns later and Jack was once again grateful for Teal'c's innate sense of direction. The Jaffa led them firmly and silently away from their last encounter with the enemy, leaving Jack to divide his attention between watching their six and seething inwardly. Keeping his mind focused on the immediate goal of getting his people out of this impossible situation was getting harder and harder, especially with that little voice inside his head that incessantly reminded him that one of 'his people' was far beyond his reach. And now Elliot, raw, green, so eager for action back in the 'gate room, was living Jack's worst nightmare. Hell in a handbasket was too polite a description for this trip down the yellow brick road.

"You recognize the tattoos?" he murmured at the Jaffa's back as the two eased around another sharp corner. As if it would matter just which over-dressed egomaniac was after them this time.

The flash of rage within Teal'c's dark eyes lashed out at Jack in the darkened tunnel as the large figure faced him briefly. "I saw two markings – one was that of Zipacna." The name splattered from his teammate's mouth as if it were a curse.

Jack felt an echoing flame in his own chest. "What, the guy with the earring and the fruity hat at Skaara's trial on Tollana?" He remembered the arrogant pissant's words, comparing humans to cattle, describing the lifelong slavery of the human host as if it were merely the snake's 'due' as 'Master of the Universe.' In a burst of memory he saw Daniel, brow ridged with focus and concentration, so desperate not to lose this opportunity to free his wife's little brother from a captivity for which he'd blamed himself every minute of every day for three long years. Sha're was dead, forever beyond Daniel's help, but, suddenly, Skaara was standing there in front of them – whole, healthy, if scarred by his long slavery – and Jack had known that, even though Skaara was very special to Jack, the possible loss of all that was left of Daniel's Abydonian family would have destroyed his friend.

In their downtimes during the trial, he'd listened helplessly as his teammate had retched up what little food he'd been able to choke down – Daniel had been suffocating under the responsibility, terrified to think that Skaara might have been found just to be lost again, and that it would be his fault. Later, Jack had wondered if that was why Skaara had been so torn in choosing his 'Archon' from between his two friends. Daniel had been the obvious choice – no matter how close Jack had grown to the desert-boy, Daniel was family: he'd lived with Skaara for over a year, and they both knew that the linguist had a brilliant mind and the tongue of a true diplomat. Jack was all bluster and bluntness – it was Daniel who could find the loopholes and appeal to the compassion hidden deep within the Tollan matriarch. And, besides, the Nox had always liked him best. But deep down Jack wondered if, knowing Daniel as Skaara did, the young Abydonian had also chosen Jack as a way to spread the weight of guilt and self-reproach if the trial was lost.

"Indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c responded, jerking the colonel from his reverie. "Zipacna may lead the assault, but he could not coordinate such an attack."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "What makes you say that?"

Contempt radiated from the Jaffa's large frame. "He is a minor Goa'uld – he has neither the resources nor the –"

"- balls?" Jack interrupted.

"- nerve," Teal'c continued, pausing momentarily in his advance, "to carry out an invasion of this magnitude."

Before his teammate could move out again, Jack grabbed him by one sleeve and refused to budge until the larger man was forced to face him. "Wait a minute – you said you saw two markings. Who's the other snakehead?"

Teal'c stiffened, his gaze sweeping the hallways on both sides, never resting on the human who stood before him.

"Hey –" Jack drew himself up to meet the Jaffa eye to eye and packed the word with command. "Straight answer, Teal'c."

The warrior tilted his head, radiating disdain, and focused on his commander. "I have only seen the other mark in record files. The Goa'uld to whom it belongs had been silent for many centuries and only recently found his way back to power."

"Yeah?" Impatience tightened Jack's lips.

"It is the mark of the Goa'uld Osiris." Teal'c turned from his teammate and moved away, silently.

After a moment, the stunned Air Force officer hurried to catch up with the stiff back of the Jaffa. "Osiris? The snake that grabbed Daniel's old girlfriend in Chicago?"

Teal'c neither responded nor hesitated to move towards their planned rendezvous with Carter and Elliot and Jack ground his teeth at the Jaffa's more-than-usually-irritating stoicism, having no problem interpreting the silence of the Jaffa's growing anger. Hell, even after a year and a half the guy was probably still mad that Jack had cut off all communication with the SGC by tossing Teal'c's cell phone's battery into the tall weeds surrounding his Minnesota retreat while Daniel, Carter, and Doc Frasier bore the brunt of the newly resurrected Goa'uld's fury under that pyramid in Egypt. Not one of Jack's banner moments, he sneered at himself. He'd always poked fun at Daniel's penchant for pouting when he didn't get his way, but there really was no other word to describe his own attitude when he'd purposefully cut himself off from his friends' calls for help during that little debacle. Daniel, still bearing the red imprint of the hand device on his forehead and that haunted look in his eyes had brushed off Jack's flimsy apology, but Teal'c, Carter and Hammond had been truly pissed.

"Teal'c." He hated the unconscious regret that colored his voice and cleared his throat decisively. "Teal'c, hold it a minute," he ordered. The Jaffa stopped abruptly and turned to glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Osiris has been back for a little over a year – could he have become a major player again that soon?"

"It is unlikely. Perhaps he sought alliance with Zipacna in order to secure territory more easily. According to Daniel Jackson, the Goa'uld had been interred on Earth for many thousands of years. His knowledge of the Goa'uld power structure would have been extremely limited."

Jack nodded. "Okay. So Zippy and his new best friend have joined up and just happen to find enough intel on the Tok'ra to launch a full scale attack on their 'super secret base'," the fingers of his left hand sketched quotation marks around the phrase, "oh-so-coincidentally while Daniel's team is paying a visit to Tok'ra-land?"

Teal'c's eyes lost some of their brooding menace and his head dropped into a hesitant nod. "I do not believe so, O'Neill."

"Yeah, me either." Jack jerked his head in the direction they'd been traveling and fell into step with his teammate. "What the hell is going on, Teal'c? The big guys – the System Lords – " Jack let his bitterness turn the title into something synonymous with white-haired senators, "are all supposed to be busy making nice at this summit that Jacob dragged Daniel to, aren't they?"

"That was my understanding as well." Teal'c's gaze never rested, peering through the airborne debris that muddied the air within the breached Tok'ra base, but Jack could see the tension that held his muscles rigid was not all about their present situation.

"So, how could these two bit players be attacking with this much organization and firepower?" Jack swept a hand down over his face. "You think this whole thing is a set-up?"

The raised fist of his teammate stopped Jack and he crouched, listening. A moment later Teal'c edged forward cautiously. "It would not be the first time that the Tok'ra's belief in the infallibility of their intrigues endangered both themselves and those allied with them," he growled.

"Good point," Jack agreed through clenched teeth. He felt Teal'c's criticism hit its mark his conscience stabbed at him – the Jaffa's words could as easily be aimed at the SGC, General Hammond, and Jack himself. They'd grabbed at this flimsy opportunity to wipe out the Goa'uld threat without a backwards glance, throwing Daniel to the wolves on what data, with what evidence? Hell, they'd been more hesitant about the damned Tok'ra armbands while he and his team were safely on planet Earth than they'd been with Ren'Al's extremely brief little briefing. "What did we send Daniel into?" he muttered.

Teal'c stopped and aimed his level stare at his commanding officer. "I sent Daniel Jackson nowhere, O'Neill."

Jack bit back a retort and tightened his lips. "Yeah, I got that." Dammit. He hated it when Teal'c was right, but hated it even more that he had been wrong – profoundly and overwhelmingly wrong. "So," he eased down the narrow tunnel at the Jaffa's back, "the question is, what the hell can we do about it?"

"Nothing has changed regarding Daniel Jackson's mission." Teal'c's low voice rumbled, anger hardening the smooth edges. "He is alone among the System Lords, a powerful group of beings who would torture and kill him with little provocation no matter their current strategy. Either he will be successful in this mission or he will die." He turned back to make sure Jack was listening. "Or worse." Teal'c paused as he saw his words sink in. "This has been true since this mission was first conceived. Our knowledge changes nothing." He turned away.

The surge of anger and loss filled Jack's vision with blood and darkness and he staggered past the bulk of the motionless Jaffa. Nothing he could do. Nothing. His hands ached where they choked the smooth grip of the weapon against his chest, hoping to find some reassurance in the familiar sensation of power resting at his fingertips. He was desperate for a target – any target – something he could empty clip after clip into as if that would purge his soul of the rotting stain of his guilt. He stumbled, stiff hands barely moving in time to brace himself against the sharp crystals of the tunnel wall, the resultant pricking spots of red on his palms completely fitting. More blood on his hands.

Insistent mutterings tried to pierce the deafening rush of sound that filled his mind and Jack blinked up, startled, at the broad, dark face of his teammate, staring as the thick lips formed his name. He shook his head. "Yeah, Teal'c." This wasn't the time. Not the place. His team was depending on him to get them out of this – he stifled a snort – more pity them. He smacked the Jaffa sharply on one shoulder and straightened, composing his face into its soldier's mask. Guilt – regret – loss – consequences – these were Daniel's territory, not his. He swallowed the bile and faced forward, as he had so many, many times before, the weight of responsibility crushing him. He was in charge, the commanding officer, the one it fell to to act, to save, to choose a course of action and run with it. Colonel Jack O'Neill would never have the luxury of doubt or the time for constant questioning that the civilian had. Yeah, Jack nodded, his gesture unseen in the gloom of the alien tunnel, and sometimes he hated Daniel for that.

He stepped out, weapon ready, muscles loose. "Let's go."