Thanks to everyone who is reading this.

Chapter 2

"Odyssey was damaged. Korolev was destroyed."

Those somber words flitted around in Jack's brain as Hank went on to explain about Bra'tac taking a ship, about the loss of long range communications and about the Asgard ship and most of the Jaffa vessels being destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The next bit of sobering information had him focused on Hank's declaration. The Ori ships had traveled to Chulak. Jack knew that the Free Jaffa weren't about to be converted to Origin so there would have been another battle, but Landry hadn't heard yet what had happened. Promising information as fast as he received it, Hank had signed off, without wishing anyone a pleasant evening.

Odyssey would be limping home while the Korolev had not survived its maiden voyage. Jack's eyes drifted around the table and he saw that the President had come back. When had that happened? He ducked his head slightly and started with a verbal apology, but Hayes cut him off pretty quickly, insisting that he hadn't disrespected anybody. With the President's permission, Jack had then contacted the Deputy Prime Minister to deliver the news about the Korolev. He told him that there were only a few survivors and that they would have to wait for more information, probably until Odyssey made it back to Earth. The DPM had been livid beyond rational thinking, questioning why in Stargate programs Russian citizens had always perished and American citizens had survived. Jack couldn't dispute that, at least not completely because it was mostly true, so he didn't try to pacify or console.

He was every bit a diplomat when he told the man that he was sorry for their loss, that it was his loss too and that everything would be done to find out what had happened and survivors would be returning as soon as possible. He explained about the super gate still being active, that more ships would likely come through in a second wave and that they needed to continue construction of new ships as well as gathering of intelligence about their newest enemy. The DPM had accepted his explanations and acknowledged that Jack had a vested interest and therefore a measurable loss in all of the crews and SG teams. He said he sensed O'Neill's regret and sadness at the loss of life, appreciated his honest leadership, and kind words, and then he requested a summit in the very near future to discuss and investigate everything that had happened. It was owed to the families and the Russian people to unveil the truth, even though nobody would be told the truth.

Jack knew that Woolsey, being at Stargate Command, would already be aware of the few details of the battle, but he had called the contact number for the IOA anyway. As predicted, they were ready to jump in and on and over and through him. The loss of a 304 would be laid at his feet, as well as the loss of life. It would be his fault that the Ori formed a super gate, that they built ships and that they had come through to the Milky Way. The IOA had been great about assigning blame to one person, and Jack knew it would be that way for him and had accepted that they would do things like that when he had taken the job. It was his command and his responsibility. The charge against him, probably led by Woolsey and Camille Wray, would be formidable and they had already demanded a hearing to determine what had gone wrong in the battle with the Ori, and Jack knew that there would be lots of other meetings and conferences. Getting your ass kicked by an enemy is bad enough, but now he had to dread getting it kicked by the IOA. They could and would say anything they wanted or felt like, while Jack had to keep both military and diplomatic decorum.

A couple of minutes after returning the handset to its cradle, Jack was still sitting silently, mostly staring at the black screen, but also staring at the wall behind it. He hadn't heard the President speaking softly to the others or notice when he and a couple of others left the room, but pressure on his shoulder got his attention just before he heard General Mike Moseley's voice.

"Jack, you've done everything you can."

It was uncharacteristic for the four star to attempt to support or reassure someone in that way and Jack turned his head as the big hand was removed. He pulled himself out of the half slouch he'd unconsciously gotten into, a caster dragging on the carpet making the chair rock slightly.

The Air Force Chief of Staff sat down in the chair next to him and as Jack slowly spun his own chair to align with the table as his eyes flickered across the faces of the other men seated there. They were all looking at him and it dawned on him that President Hayes, the Secretary of Defense, the Army Chief of Staff and the Marine Corps Commandant were no longer in the room. He'd known he'd been unfocused, but how did he miss everyone standing when the President stood up or the four men leaving the room and then everyone sitting down again? Hadn't he spaced out just a little while ago? What else had happened while he'd been 'elsewhere'?

Aware of the others still looking his way, Jack stared hard at the table top, gathering his thoughts and emotions so he could stuff them into a box where they couldn't expose themselves, or him. Distracted? Sidetracked? Preoccupied? Oh yeah, he'd been lost in thought and he mentally smacked the back of his head for allowing his emotions to drive his actions. The people out there were his people, some were his friends, but he couldn't allow that to influence his thinking and ultimately his decisions.

It didn't take Jack long, he was after all, an expert, and he raised his head, directing his gaze into the serious faces around him, one at a time. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs gave him a half smile, Moseley nodded and Jumper looked as sympathetic as Jack had ever seen him, as did the Vice Chairman and the Chief of Naval operations. To Jack, their expressions confirmed that they were all feeling the same way and regretting that they, for the time being, were powerless to do anything about a situation beyond their reach. Jack's gaze, previously hard and steely, softened a little. These men, his superiors and friends, understood as well as anyone what he was feeling and what was going on in his head. He had done everything that he could, but that didn't really help and the men sitting with at the table with him, knew that.

Everyone except Jumper left for about twenty minutes and when they returned they had changed from service dress to mess dress uniform.

He remembered the President's dinner party, watching as Moseley played with his tie. A soft knock interrupted his musing and Jack was surprised, though he probably shouldn't have been, when one of his aides could be seen standing outside the door holding a garment bag and a zippered travel bag, which he recognized as his own.

Gibbs chomped down the last of his sandwich, chewing with purpose while his mind thought about the night mission. It could be easy to get Galib off the ship or it could go like some other ops he'd been involved in. Swirling his tongue over his teeth, he stood up, washed out his mouth with the last of the coffee and swallowed hard as he tossed the familiar Starbucks cup into the trash. Expecting his team to return to the squad room in a few minutes, he grabbed his kit from the bottom drawer of his desk and headed for the restroom in the basement.

It had been over 12 hours and he needed to look professional so Gibbs had quickly shaved, and then brushed his teeth. Swishing the lukewarm water around in his mouth reminded him that he needed to call for a dental appointment since the sensitivity in the back molar of the right side wasn't getting any better. Grumbling that he would probably need a crown, he swiped his hand over his wet mouth, stored his personal items and headed for autopsy.

"Hey Duck."

Glancing at the man strolling into his domain, Doctor Donald Mallard, aka Ducky, smiled and put the folder he had in his hand onto the desk.

"Good evening, Jethro. I didn't realize you were still here."

Gibbs hadn't been surprised to see the medical examiner; after all, he often worked late.

"Yeah," he responded. "We'll be heading out soon."

"Ah," Ducky smiled. "Mr. Palmer and I will be here working late as well, at least for a couple more hours."

The cell phone in his pocket rang loudly and Gibbs pulled it out, looked at the display and smiled before answering in a deeper than normal tone. "Yes?"

He heard Jenny Shepard chuckle before she informed him that the Bakir Kamir was 15 miles out and Agent Cruz of the US Customs Service would be expecting him at the port as soon as possible. With a grin at Ducky, he tried a little small talk on her, asking about her dinner plans, but she dismissed him, saying that she needed to get going and so did he. Gibbs had to admit that she seemed rushed so he thanked her for the information and clicked off the phone.

The doctor, who had overheard both sides of the conversation, seemed amused and stated, "You won't get a rise out of her, Jethro. Her evening is much too important."

Gibbs stared at him, wondering what was so special about dinner on a weeknight, but before he could decide whether or not to ask, Ducky told him.

"She's been invited to dinner at the White House."

The expression on the agent's face told the whole story about his opinions regarding political socializing as Ducky finished with, "I'm surprised she hasn't left yet. I believe she said it was cocktails at 7." Ducky reached for another file. "Well no matter. I'm certain it will be a delightful evening. Have I ever told you that I almost had dinner at the White House?" He didn't wait for Gibbs to reply, just charged on with the story. "Oh, it was years ago and I had….."

Ducky kept talking and Gibbs went out the door to go fetch his team, who, if they knew what was good for them, had better be ready.

Jack knew that it was more trouble than anyone had said to add a chair to a table at a planned White House dinner, but mentioning it would not get him out of it. Get together events at the White House or anywhere else in Washington, DC were not his cup of tea and he'd rather be shocked unconscious by a zat than have to attend one. Unfortunately for him, the President had decided that he would attend this one.

"You won't miss any calls, Jack," Jumper assured him, taking his own garment bag from a White House aide. Jack had wanted to wait in the conference room adjacent to the situation room in case Hank called back with news. Or he could have returned to his Pentagon office, and maybe thrown something, but no, his CIC had another idea for the evening.

President and Mrs. Hayes were hosting a group for drinks and dinner and the men with Jack were expected to attend, along with the other Joint Chiefs. Believing a distraction would be good for his head of Homeworld Security, and knowing any message from Landry would be immediately relayed to them, Hayes had urged his senior officers to drag Jack along to the social gathering. It had been more of an order than a suggestion and the men had readily agreed to get him there. They had suggested skipping the before dinner socializing and Hayes had smiled at the compromise, knowing how much Jack would hate cocktail time. He had agreed and then gone off to the residence to dress for the occasion, which would be starting soon.

Jumper had been straightening his tie when he added, "C'mon, it'll be fun."

Jack barely nodded his acceptance of the first statement and couldn't bring himself to reply to the second one. Nothing at the White House had ever been fun, well except for bowling and he hadn't been invited nearly as often as he would like. And the theater was pretty cool too, especially watching from one of the front row armchairs that Hayes always insisted he occupy.

Jumper had left him to cleanup and a few minutes later Jack emerged from the men's lavatory, face washed and shaved, teeth brushed, hair combed, sort of, and in time to see Moseley standing outside the door. He couldn't help but smirk at the image of the Air Force Chief of Staff guarding a bathroom, and in the White House no less. Softly chuckling, he returned to the conference room next to the situation room and after taking a moment to wipe off his low quarters, he put on the blue satin bow tie and quickly double checked the studs on the front of his shirt and the cuff links on the sleeves. He adjusted his suspenders and cummerbund and reached for his mess jacket, giving it a fast once over before he slipped it on, needing to wriggle his shoulders a little to get it to hang the way it should.

It had been tailored to fit him, but he wore it so darn seldom that it never felt comfortable. He'd been lucky enough not to have to wear it since he'd been in DC and George Hammond hated to get dressed up as much as Jack and had not had any formal or semi-formal events for his retirement, which had suited Jack just fine. When Jack buttoned up his jacket he noticed the other men looking at him and he knew right away what they were gawking at. Damn, they hadn't ever seen some of his medals and Jack was suddenly feeling self conscious. He had permission not to wear all of his medals when in service dress, but that didn't extend to semi-formal or formal occasions when he had to wear mess dress, and because he was wearing miniature medals instead of ribbons, they were even more noticeable. In addition to the ones he displayed in service dress, Jack was decorated with the Air Force Cross, Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart and Prisoner of War Medal, and except for the POW medal, they all had at least one bronze oak leaf cluster. The solid black in the center of the POW medal ribbon always made it more noticeable as well as the eagle surrounded by barbed wire and bayonet points, and the others hung in groups on the top row which made then stand out.

Fending off an embarrassed look, Jack deflected attention away from his left chest by asking, "What?" And then quickly added "Sirs?" after it.

TBC

When Jack was SGC base commander, he had medals displayed in frames on his office wall. I think those were his medals. They were Air Force Cross, Distinguished Service Medal, Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart, Air Medal, Air Force Commendation Medal and National Defense Service Medal. We saw him in uniform several times and he wore the Air Medal, the Air Force Commendation Medal and the National Defense Service Medal. I added the Prisoner of War Medal and the multiples of the others. I always thought Jack didn't have the correct commendations and medals. Agree or not. It's okay. :)

Thanks for reading.