After Ren'Al's Departure
"Have a seat, Jack." General Hammond nudged the door to his office with one shoulder before waving his 2IC to the empty chair as he moved around his desk to drop into his own. He scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath noisily. "If that wasn't the damnedest…" He shook his head, unable to continue.
"Yes, sir." Jack couldn't think of any other response. After weeks – months – of dealing with some of the most FUBAR missions he'd ever had the misfortune of being associated with, the Tok'ra – the damned Tok'ra! – come and drop this can of snakes into their laps. Almost literally, it seemed.
"If Jacob Carter weren't behind this, I'd seriously wonder if we weren't being set up for something decidedly unpleasant, Colonel."
Jack squirmed, his ass having become all too familiar with the feel of this particular chair over the past couple of weeks. "Well, sir, it's not like I don't love the Tok'ra," he began, his open sarcasm bringing a brief smile to Hammond's face, "but until I hear about this little mission from Jacob's own mouth…" he didn't bother to finish the thought.
Hammond nodded. "But if this intel is viable, well," his hands opened and closed on his desk, "one surgical strike could take out all of the major Goa'uld players – all of them. Hell, Jack, after five long years of heavy losses -"
"– and an occasional massive win, sir," Jack inserted smoothly.
"- we could be looking at the end of the Goa'uld threat in this entire galaxy."
The silence stretched for long moments as Jack chewed over the completely unexpected events of the last ten minutes. His sight turned inward and he rewound his mental tapes to replay each word and gesture, paying more attention than he had in the heat of the moment. It was no wonder that Hammond was excited – this was a wet dream come true – a way to wipe out Earth's greatest threat and a magic wand to make all of the incessant justifications for the program go poof. "Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say, General?" he finally remarked.
Hammond harrumphed. "I was just going to say the same thing, Jack."
"Amazing how the Tok'ra come along with this plan, a plan that is so unlike their usual crap, I've got to say, right when we need something positive to show for the existence of the program." Jack sank further into the chair, running one hand through his short graying hair. "Funny how the only guy they can think of to put undercover in the midst of a whole boatload of Goa'uld System Lords is our own Daniel Jackson."
The flash Hammond noticed in his 2IC's dark eyes wasn't amusement. He leaned forward. "What do you suspect, Jack?"
"Who me, General?" Jack made an attempt at innocence. "I am the picture of faith and trust when it comes to our buddies the Tok'ra. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"Colonel…" Hammond's tone drew Jack O'Neill up from his slumped posture as if his strings had been yanked.
"All I'm saying is, these Tok'ra, they don't make plans like we do, sir." His words came faster now, with more bitterness. "These guys can out Black Ops our Black Ops any day of the week. You remember Shan'uac and Tanith, don't you? They led us along by our noses that whole time knowing full well that she hadn't talked that slimy snake into anything. Hell, they've been stringing Carter along for months about the situation with Lantash, and let's not forget those pesky armband thingies."
Hammond waited patiently for his 2IC to put it together – that was one of Colonel Jack O'Neill's greatest strengths: his ability to threat assess with little information. He interlinked his fingers and nodded for Jack to continue.
"The Tok'ra have never given us anything remotely useful, sir," Jack sputtered, all of the suppressed tension from months of screwed up missions erupting from his throat harshly. "We've got this crazy treaty that Daniel drew up saying how we're all going to play nice and share intel, but what exactly have they done for us?" He lurched to his feet and began pacing within the small confines of Hammond's office, his voice rising to match his posture. "They may not be Goa'uld, but they are still arrogant, sanctimonious pricks who think they own this fight, and they always will." He turned abruptly to face the man across the desk. "Why the hell would they read us in to this kind of go-for-broke, no-holds-barred mission? And," he thrust one pointed finger at the slightly ajar office door, "why would they insist that they couldn't do it without Daniel, of all people."
Hammond's eyebrows drew down at the unconcealed contempt in the colonel's voice. So he hadn't been imagining it: SG-1 was in trouble. He'd tried to ignore the way Daniel Jackson had been retreating – physically and verbally – from the team for months now; he'd tried to take the changes in the young man's attitude as normal signs of growth and maturity, as the kind of vital hardening a soldier on a combat team needed in order to survive. He'd tried to find the humor in Jack O'Neill's more frequent cutting remarks – remarks that had once been tempered by friendship and an almost fatherly affection, and the proper detachment of an Air Force CO in his fiery impatience at Dr. Jackson's more creative ideas and contributions. George Hammond felt a sense of utter fatigue drag at him and let his eyes close for just a moment. When he spoke, his voice was cautiously muted.
"And you can't see any reason for the Tok'ra to assume Dr. Jackson would be successful in an operation like this one." George couldn't quite manage a questioning inflection at the end of the sentence since he was already painfully aware of Jack's likely response.
"Daniel? You've got to be kidding, uh, sir." Jack hastily added the honorific when he heard the outrage in his own voice. "He's exactly the wrong person to send into a situation like this one."
"Why is that, Colonel O'Neill?" General Hammond let a trace of steel undergird his question.
Jack's eyebrows quirked in astonishment. "C'mon, sir, the Tok'ra want to send Daniel Jackson, 'the great negotiator,' into a room full of Goa'uld to blow them to kingdom come? Yeah," he laughed rudely, "that's gonna happen."
Hammond's tone dropped another few degrees. "You don't think he's capable of carrying out a mission like this, Jack? Or is it that you don't think Dr. Jackson has the guts to see it through?"
After a moment his commanding officer's harsh whisper registered and Jack looked up in surprise. "He's not incapable, exactly, sir," he finally insisted, nervous movements stilled as he faced the general's desk. "The point is, Dr. Daniel Jackson wouldn't be caught dead agreeing to do something like this."
Each officer studied the other for a long moment, eyes intent, searching for meaning beneath the facades that had been designed to give nothing away and had been honed to near perfection by their life-long military careers. Uncomfortable with Hammond's weighing stare and his own tone of voice, Jack took a few steps to his right and pushed the office door until it closed with a thunk. Both hands now strafed through his hair and moved down to rub his eyes before he managed to get a grip on his emotions and turn back to the general, his movements concealing the retreat of the quiet figure that had been standing just out of sight in the corridor, eyes glued to the scene playing out through the office window.
"Just what are you saying, Jack? It wasn't that long ago that you were arguing, quite forcefully, to keep a certain civilian scientist on the front-line team of the SGC," Hammond reminded the colonel. "I, for one, would like to know what has changed so much for you to dismiss Dr. Jackson's value to this program, or to such a vital mission." He waited, but O'Neill remained half-turned away, eyes narrowing as his hands dropped to his sides.
Suddenly Jack's fierce dark gaze was locked onto the general's, pinning him to his chair as if Jack was desperate to communicate something to his CO that he only barely understood himself. "Yeah, Daniel's only slightly less dedicated to seeing the Goa'uld defeated than Teal'c is, and we both know he'd gladly strangle the lot of them. I'm just saying that Daniel's approach has always been violence only as a last resort – he'd rather talk his way to a solution even when the other guy has a gun to our collective heads." Another humorless chuckle escaped before Jack pressed his lips together. "There's plenty of precedent, sir."
And he's saved your butt and this planet more than once, Colonel, Hammond thought to himself. "What's your point."
"Sir," Jack leaned over Hammond's desk, "the Tok'ra know that, especially Jacob." Watching the proverbial penny drop in his CO's narrowed eyes, Jack flipped back into his chair, waiting for the general to catch up.
"So you're saying that this supposed mission to destroy the System Lords is…"
"A crock, sir," Jack sighed. "They know Daniel will never agree to wholesale slaughter of hosts, Jaffa - people he would insist are innocent bystanders, no matter what they've done." The colonel's tone made it clear that he didn't agree. "Oh, he might stay interested long enough to go to Revanna and hear the rest of the plan, but there's no way he'd take on that kind of covert, decidedly dark op, sir." No. Not Daniel. Sure he'd changed to try to fit in with the tighter military agenda, toughened up, pulled his nose out of his books to take a look around and see the imminent danger every once in a long while. But Daniel's past actions made it crystal clear that he was incapable – yeah, there was that word again – of making this kind of big decision. He'd never agree to take so many lives, Goa'uld or otherwise.
Fingers tapping against his desk, Hammond shifted his weight as Jack's assessment sank past his concern for the future of SG-1. "But what would be the point, Jack? Granted, the Tok'ra are subtle, but what could they possibly gain by proposing a mission with this much potential believing that Dr. Jackson would refuse?"
"I don't know, General, but I'm guessing they figure they can use it as an excuse to keep us in the dark about any future operations –" he lowered his voice in an attempt at snooty Tok'ra arrogance, "'oh, well, we're sorry we can't help, but if you'd just agreed to send Dr. Jackson on a solo mission way behind enemy lines with a big bomb, we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we?'" Jack shrugged. "Or something like that."
"It seems kind of far-fetched."
"Yeah," Jack could feel the wrongness of the whole situation congealing in his gut, "but I guarantee you, General, there is something else going on here."
Hammond pursed his lips. "And you think this is more than your usual ill will towards the Tok'ra?" You'd better not screw this up because of your own short-sightedness, Jack.
Colonel Jack O'Neill heard the unspoken warning but brushed it off. "Just let it play out, sir," Jack suggested. "Daniel's curiosity will get him to Revanna. Once we're there," he shrugged again, "we'll have plenty of time to dig for more intel while he fights with his scruples."
Hammond slapped both hands flat on the arms of his chair. "I've got to tell you, Colonel, I hope you're wrong. Dealing a death blow to the Goa'uld leadership sounds a hell of a lot more appetizing than stepping into another diplomatic minefield off-world." The Tollan and the Aschen sprang immediately to mind. "Our track record in these matters isn't exactly stellar." And if the Tok'ra were sincere, and they presented Daniel Jackson with the opportunity to bring down the combined might of the System Lords? George did his own assessment of the civilian's character and found himself disagreeing with his 2IC. To his knowledge, there was not one individual on the base who was as stubborn as the young archaeologist – nor as apt to put his own life on the line – but for some reason, his team leader didn't seem to concur, or care for that matter.
O'Neill stood, taking Hammond's words as a dismissal, but the general called him back as he opened the door. "Ren'Al's expecting contact at 0830 tomorrow. If Dr. Jackson agrees to go to Revanna for briefing she's offered an off-world orientation at the Tok'ra base for one of the new SG teams to coincide with SG-1's TDY."
Jack nodded. "Mansfield's team is ready, sir."
"Speak to Walter on the way out, Jack. Have him inform Major Mansfield of his team's likely departure time at 0900 tomorrow. And, Colonel," his voice drew the leader of SG-1 back into his office again, but he waited for Jack to turn around before continuing, "I'd suggest you speak with Dr. Jackson before this goes any further."
Eyes twitching wider at the general's unexpected statement, Jack felt himself balk at the simple request. He'd like to avoid another round of the usual arguments with Daniel at all costs. "I'll make sure to get his response, sir." Not exactly total compliance with his CO's suggestion, but as close as he was going to get from Jack tonight.
