Disclaimer: I do not own any characters relating to either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate SG-1. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only and does not provide any financial compensation.
Return To Normal
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Chapter Ten
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"Goddammit!" Master Bratac smiled thinly at the exclamation of frustrated rage. He'd been hearing it a lot the past few hours. Every time he did, he knew he was on the right track. Intimidation hadn't worked. Nor had experience, or simple courtesy. More than a century of combat experience couldn't make up for her speed and inherent talent. But, oh my lord, the girl was quite simply incapable allowing herself to be mocked. Even knowing he was doing it deliberately, she couldn't stand it when he pretended to be unimpressed.
In truth, he'd never seen anything like her. Never heard of anyone like her. Oh, in his hundred and thirty seven years he'd seen much, even seen fighters who might have nearly approached her abilities. But not her attitude. At first, he had been insulted that his allies among the Tau'ri would ask a Jaffa of his stature to 'train' a young female. Even after Teal'c had explained their reasons, and his own experience facing her in combat, Bra'tac hadn't been impressed. Physical ability was only part of what made a true warrior; being able to hit like a Tau'ri mule meant little when opposing enemies who did not stand and fight like the gladiators of history. More than raw talent was needed. An attitude, an ability to see the 'big picture,' to use the Tau'ri's most eloquent vernacular. The young female was unquestionably a mighty warrior, and would do well as part of any Jaffa covert missions team, but he saw little hint that she was capable of more complicated assignments, complex missions which might call for intelligence or creativity. But the Tau'ri were a valuable ally, and the Jaffa had far too few allies to needless irritate them, so Bra'tac swallowed his irritation and attempted to train the small warrior.
For several minutes he'd even been able to hold her off. Experience counted for a lot… but not enough to overcome the disadvantages which limited his ability to counter her youth and speed and strength. In truth he'd only kept trying because of her snide taunts, her open contempt, her obvious belief that he was too old, too slow, and too ugly to present a true challenge. There were many among the Jaffa who might have warned her against taunting a warrior of his caliber… especially when his face wore the expression it did when she made a particularly snide remark about his abilities when she took the staff weapon away from him for the third time in less than a quarter hour.
Hammond of Texas had –unfortunately—informed him that he could not kill her, and this was just a training session, so his staff weapon had not been set to full power. Given her size and mass, Bra'tac had foolishly thought that even the one-quarter strength charges Jaffa used during training sessions would be too powerful and might harm her, so had reduced them even further before he realized what she was capable of doing in the training facility. Not that it mattered in the end; he was so rarely able to hit her that even if he hadn't turned it down to something she was able to shrug off, she still would have defeated him easily. But he hadn't survived a hundred and thirty seven years without learning a thing or two himself, and saw how she relied on her speed, her strength, and her imagined ability to 'read' his facial expressions to dictate her tactics. The forth time she tried to take away the staff weapon he was waiting, swinging it before she even made her move, the move he knew she intended, took out her legs, and had the business end at her throat before she could adjust.
It was then that he saw what Hammond of Texas had seen. A momentary flash in her eyes, a deep-seated, implacable rage normally concealed by an attitude of condescension and smarmy vacuousness. Suspecting that few people saw it because her physical talents were so formidable few people would ever be in a position to see it, he did not misinterpret that tell-tale gleam: this girl did not like to lose. Perhaps it was due to overcompensation for her stature, or her sex, or merely something driven by internal psychological demons; but this girl absolutely loathed being bested. At anything. Naturally she misinterpreted his small smile of understanding, thinking it to be a smug self-congratulation over finally defeating her in one trivial exercise. She went off on an insulting rant which a few minutes earlier would have had Bra'tac fuming in a carefully-concealed rage of his own. Not any more. He knew what she truly was now. He knew what Hammond of Texas had seen, and knew the respect he had for the Tau'ri commander had not been misplaced. Despite his somewhat-less-than-sculpted physical appearance, the General was one of the most dangerous warriors Bra'tac had ever met. No one in his experience had a better eye for spotting raw talent than Hammond of Texas.
Buffy Summers was a dangerous, barely-leashed killing machine masquerading as a simpering young gadfly. Given her combination of extraordinary physical talent and mental predilection towards violence, Bra'tac strongly suspected that Hammond of Texas saw precisely what he himself had seen far more years ago than he cared to admit, when he first observed Teal'c take up the staff weapon. Saw not just a protégé; but someone with the potential to surpass their own achievements. Bra'tac had groomed Teal'c to become the sort of warrior who might some day break the choking yoke of a race who saw themselves as Gods. He didn't doubt that Hammond of Texas had similar ambitions for his own unlikely protégé.
From that moment the training regime changed. He had beaten her once, but was unlikely to repeat the triumph, so saw no need to even attempt to do so. All that mattered was that he had done so, and both of them knew how he had done it. This was no longer about his abilities; it was all about unleashing the potential Hammond of Texas saw in her. A potential Bra'tac now saw clearly, and cursed the swift passing of the years which had made him so feeble as to not see if from the beginning. He gave thanks to the True Gods for putting him in the company of warriors capable of seeing what his failing eyes could not in his twilight years. Because he had once thought Teal'c to be his greatest legacy; but in the small Tau'ri he now saw the potential for a masterpiece. When the training session resumed, instead of fighting her, he had her perform her own stylistic movements, and began to criticize her tactics and technique. It was intended to be a dispassionate, professional assessment, but of course she took offence, as he knew she would. That was the point; she took offence, and argued, and whined, and insulted him; but in the end she listened. He was right, and although she would never, not in a million years, admit to that fact, he was right and she knew it. When he asked her to repeat the steps, the next time she did it correctly.
Bra'tac had seen it before. Children so gifted they didn't have to exert themselves to win, so got into the habit of cheating, giving less than their best because it was usually enough to win against lesser opponents. But they knew, as this girl would know, that she was cheating. That she was performing at less than her best. Naturally, she was offended that he called her on it. Naturally, given her personality, she whined and bleated like the spoiled child she truly was. But what really mattered was that when she saw that he saw that she was cheating, she didn't repeat it either. From there, the training proceeded at a pace. It was fortunate that she had actually been very well trained, and remembered what had to be done. It was even more fortunate that she had a fire in her, the sort of demand for perfection which all true champions must possess because it could not be imposed from without, but only unleashed from within. A few hours later he had her going through choreographed routines demanding such speed and athletic prowess few among the observing officers could even see her move, let alone note the imperfections Bra'tac's wizened eyes pointed out each time she finished. Tiny, subtle movements which normally wouldn't have made a difference… unless she faced a warrior capable of equally impressive acrobatics.
When he finally called a halt to the session, nearly twelve hours after it had begun, Bra'tac was pleased when the young warrior did not want to stop, but by then he had seen enough to know that although she was physically capable of continuing, it would not aid in her training. He could see the mounting frustration as he uncovered more and more weaknesses in her technique, things no one else had seen because no one else had his eyes or experience. But she was experienced enough to know that if she ever did face anyone capable of exploiting such trivial errors, she would not survive the confrontation. Her whining had changed from the spoiled petulance of an insulted child to the frustrated realization that she just wasn't as good as she thought she was. Bra'tac wanted her to sleep on that understanding, wanted it to soak deep into her brain, wanted it to frustrate her and anger her and weaken her spirit. Because in the days to come he would rebuild it, better than before, teaching her confidence backed by the certain knowledge that she really was as good as she had once only thought herself to be. Bra'tac had built Teal'c into a warrior capable of challenging the might of False Gods. He was curious what Hammond of Texas intended to challenge using this incredibly gifted young woman.
Whatever the Tau'ri commander intended, Bra'tac would build him a living weapon capable of handling the mission. Of that, he was certain. It would be a long night for him, as he needed to create a training plan from scratch, one designed to temper the metal of the most lethal sword any Jaffa Master had ever created. By the time he finished, Buffy Summers would be capable of fighting anything… even the God's themselves. His friend Hammond of Texas would have no reason to regret trusting his protégé into the hands of Bra'tac of the Free Jaffa. He was invigorated by the challenge. A hundred and thirty seven years old, and Bra'tac had never felt so young.
--
It had been difficult for Teal'c to maintain his stoic expression during the hours he had been observing Master Bra'tac's training session with BuffySummers. He had been… disturbed by her attitude towards his teacher. His friend. Although she had occasionally acted somewhat childishly, never before had he seen Buffy Summers so difficult, so angry, so… bratty. It had taken monumental self-control on his part not to rush down from the observation deck, put the girl across his knee, and give her the spanking her behavior merited. A childish punishment for a young woman acting so childishly. He was proud of the self-discipline being displayed by his mentor. Several times he had seen the man's craggy face change, grow hard, and prepared himself for an explosion. But each time he had managed to restrain himself, to the open and obvious disappointment of the Tau'ri female. Only when he saw her expression did Teal'c understood that the girl had been baiting the Jaffa Master, trying to make him lose his temper. Teal'c could not imagine any reason for her to do so. And many reasons for her not to. And even more to regret it were she to succeed.
Teal'c had been terribly disappointed in BuffySummers' reaction, especially given the devastating critique Master Bra'tac had delivered after witnessing her fighting technique. Neither Teal'c himself, nor O'Neill or Major Carter who had been sitting beside him, quietly observing the session, had seen a fraction of the mistakes the old master had pointed out. The girl quite simply moved too fast, and their own comparatively limited experience was not up to the task of assessing the abilities of a warrior of BuffySummers' caliber. But it was obvious from her reaction that BuffySummers had noticed those same weaknesses, and had been offended about being called on them. No Jaffa would have reacted in such a manner to the expert –and apparently accurate—critique from a warrior of Master Bra'tac's achievements. Rather than submitting to his greater experience and wisdom, she had been offended, indignant, and…well, bitchy, was the appropriate local vernacular.
Surprised that Master Bra'tac hadn't walked out hours earlier, despite the disrespect he had been subjected to, Teal'c considered the matter carefully, and decided that perhaps Miss Summers had reacted with such immaturity because she did not realize Master Bra'tac's standing within the Jaffa had been hard won though deeds and personal achievement. Granted the man was now a hundred and thirty seven years old, and far beyond his glory days. Perhaps Miss Summers' pride had been offended that she had been 'called out' by a man of his advanced years. Although he had managed to catch her by surprise at least once, which was likely more than her previous trainer had been able to do. She had, after all, mentioned that the one who trained her was not physically capable of matching even a fraction of the moves she was capable of performing. Given her apparent agreement with Master Bra'tac's criticisms, she should be more grateful for his wisdom, more open to his teachings.
After carefully considering the situation, Teal'c concluded that were he to pass on some information as to how Master Bra'tac had achieved his status among the Jaffa, perhaps she would be more willing to submit to his authority.
It was usually O'Neill who filled in the conversational void, but he was surprisingly quiet while they waited for Miss Summers to return from the shower, and Major Carter took her queue from her Commanding Officer. Teal'c wanted to ask his friends if they had found her actions as immature as he had, but felt uncomfortable about asking. O'Neill's relationship with Master Bra'tac was somewhat strained, and it was far more likely he had enjoyed watching the old man being subject to such indignities. Both he and, to a lesser extent Major Carter, maintained relationships with General Hammond which were far more casual than that which were maintained between the equivalent ranks within the Jaffa hierarchy. O'Neill likely did not have much issue with Miss Summers attempting to knock Master Bra'tac down from the lofty pedestal on which the Jaffa sometimes elevated their heroes. Even those who deserved to be placed on such a pedestal.
They had made themselves comfortable, knowing it would take BuffySummers considerable time to return. Several Jaffa field battalions could shower, shave, and perform their morning constitutional in the time it took Miss Summers to shower… and they would use less water. But finally she returned, walking with her arms stretched out in front of her, knees locked as she shuffled forward, eyes glazed, muttering "Braaaaain attack! Braaaaain attack!" Teal'c was confused, but O'Neill just grinned.
"How long have you been holding back the zombie cliché?"
Abandoning her strange manner of walking, BuffySummers smiled at them. "All day. Braaaaaae Tak. 'Braaaaain attack.' I was about ready to bust a gut."
Still not getting it, Teal'c decided to ignore it as just another cultural peculiarity. There had been a great many of them since he had joined up with the Tau'ri. And, from Major Carter's reaction, it wasn't that 'funny' anyway. In his experience, most cultural peculiarities weren't. Dismissing the incident, he got down to the business at hand. "You did not appear to enjoy your session with Master Bra'tac, BuffySummers."
Blinking in surprise, Buffy looked at O'Neill questioningly before turning back to face Teal'c. "Que?!? The guy is a typical PT; wants to kill me and blame it on my own weakness. I'm not supposed to enjoy a session with a physical trainer, Teal'c. I'm just supposed to survive it. And that's pretty much all I did, dammit."
She sounded petulant, but not angry. Or, at least, not angry at Master Bra'tac. Wondering if perhaps he might have overestimated the degree of resentment he had witnessed, Teal'c nonetheless stuck to his plan for attempting to build a bond of understanding between the Slayer and his mentor. "I ask because I observed some… friction... in your interaction. You specifically requested this training, but did not appear to be pleased when Master Bra'tac pointed out the very deficiencies in your fighting techniques which you desired to address."
Perhaps he should have left well enough alone, because now the Slayer was scowling at him. "Yeah, I wanted to 'address' it, but I didn't think there would be so much to 'address.' Dammit, I'm good at this! Okay, I can be a bit of a spaz sometimes. But I work hard at my training. Whatever discipline I have comes through in my martial arts. Before I was Called it was the same thing with my figure skating. I might be a flake in some other areas –okay, pretty much all other areas-- but when it comes to kicking ass I take a back seat to nobody! Except now, that miserable bastard has rubbed my face in the fact that I've been slacking off in the one area I thought I hadn't neglected. I figured the guy would come in, see what I could do, and if not worship at my feet might spot a trivial flaw in a minor technique.
"That jerk was poking holes in half of my best moves! I do a kata each morning. You both know what that is, right? A slow, disciplined routine that prepares your body to handle the real thing. Well, my technique during the kata is fucking perfect! Chinese monks would freakin' weep in jealousy at how perfect I move! But when I go at full speed I cheat a little. Shift just a bit. Overbalance because I already know what I'm going to do next. I mean, who's gonna know, right?
"Well, that miserable old bastard knows. And he's right, damn him."
Teal'c was amazed to note that she was actually pouting. He had assumed it was just another cultural idiom. It appeared some among the Tau'ri actually did 'pout.' "That does not answer my question, Miss Summers. Isn't he doing exactly what you wanted him to do? I do not understand why you verbally insulted him when he pointed out the very deficiencies you sought to address."
For a few seconds she looked at him like she thought he was stupid. That she had somehow already answered his question. "Because he was right! Duh."
Turning to O'Neill for assistance, his friend gave the wry smile which indicated he actually understood what the small female was saying, despite her words making no sense. Another problem related to cultural ethnocentrism, he assumed. "She didn't think your man would actually spot it, T. Now that he did, she actually has to face up to it and do something about it. And because he is the one 'making' her face up to it, it's all his fault So she is giving him a hard time about 'making' her do what she already knew she should have done in the first place. It's a female thing." From the way the girl scowled at his friend --and Major Carter equally indignant glare--Teal'c concluded that O'Neill was correct in his assessment.
The logic of her actions escaped him, but this was far from the first time that had been the case in dealing with BuffySummers, Teal'c reminded himself. "If I understand you correctly, O'Neill, she sought to punish Master Bra'tac for explicitly noting what she already knew to be true."
Jack just shrugged, ignoring the glares being directed at both men. "Not so much 'punish' as 'try to piss off.' If Bra'tac blew a gasket and walked, then obviously he wouldn't have been able to spot her crappy fighting technique…" he ignored an indignant "Hey!" from the girl and continued "…so it's not so much that she could ignore it, it's more like if Bra'tac had bailed, the problem wouldn't exist in the first place. You've gotta work on your 'female' logic to understand issues like these, T."
His words of wisdom earned a second indignant "Hey!" and more glares, but both men silently communicated a mutual understanding that he spoke the simple truth. Teal'c was forced to point out a weakness in the young female's logic. "You will not drive Master Bra'tac away with mere words. He has given his word to General Hammond that he will train you, and he will do so despite your attempts to irritate him."
When he looked down at BuffySummers, her annoyed glare quickly turned into a rather… evil… smirk. "Wanna bet? You have no idea just how obnoxious I can be when I don't get my way. And Brain Attack? Waaaay too pompous. Just give me a coupla' days."
With a barely audible sigh, Teal'c considered how to proceed. Granted that the girl could be rather irritating, there was little likelihood she could be so offensive as to deflect Bra'tac from what he saw as his duty. But she could certainly make the experience far more challenging that it needed to be, for both of them. "I sincerely doubt that even you could make Master Bra'tac 'lose his cool,' Miss Summers. His capacity for stoicism is legendary, and for good reason. He was the First Prime of Apophis when he concluded that the Goa'uld were not gods, and began his campaign against them. Had he ever betrayed his true feelings by the slightest gesture or action, he would have been tortured to death. No matter his personal inclinations, Master Bra'tac will perform his duty, regardless of any obstacles he might have to overcome."
"Is that a challenge, Mister T?"
Teal'c bestowed one of his more formidable glares on the small female, as he usually did when anyone annoyed him. Buffy met his eyes, undaunted, as she in turn usually was when she annoyed people. Privately Teal'c found that somewhat frustrating. He was proud of his glare. The power of his glare had been known to make strong men water themselves. It was frustrating they had so little effect on someone so small. "During his youth, long before he rose through the ranks to become First Prime, Bra'tac came to the attention of his superiors when he became the first person ever to escape the prison planet of Kalator.
"At the time, Apophis and Satesh were having a war over some trivial slight… one of Satesh's letters had been addressed with only twenty four of the full twenty six salutations due to a System Lord of his stature, I believe. The resulting war was minor; there were probably no more than eight thousand casualties among the Jaffa who actually fought it. Because it was so trivial, prisoners were kept alive rather than simply executed out of hand. Bra'tac was sent to Kalator with the other survivors, which even then was known to be escape-proof.
"Kalator is a mineralogical treasure-trove, due to the high concentration of metals within its over-sized core. But those very metals induce an extreme magnetic field which has forced life to evolve on the planet in a manner which is almost unique in this part of the galaxy. All life there exhibits what I am told is known as a 'left-handed helicity' in the orientation of amino acids. I am uncertain as to the biological meaning of this, but the end result is that nothing edible can grow on this world."
When she and O'Neill looked equally confused, an excited Carter attempted to explain. "I've heard about that planet! If we ever get the opportunity, I'd love to study the lifeforms there. It's like nothing we've ever seen. As you undoubtedly already know, amino acids are the building blocks of proteins, and although the proteins on Kalator look and act the same as those in most other organisms, the chirality is oriented with a left-ward bias, as opposed to the more ubiquitous right hand orientation found in virtually all biological entities on other worlds. I am certain Dr. Fraser could give you a far more rigorous explanation if you want…" from Buffy's confused look, Sam judged that she did not so desire "…but the end result is that we have a planet with trees and insects and some small animals, but none of them can be processed or absorbed by digestive systems which evolved anywhere else. Much of it is also toxic due to the effects of enantiomers of known proteins causing unanticipated reactions when accepted by the receptors of eukaryotic organisms."
When she noticed O'Neill giving her a strange look, Sam figured that once again she was providing Too Much Information. She sighed. This was really interesting stuff! Except, apparently, not. "It looks normal but you can't eat it because it's poisonous."
Teal'c continued after nodding politely in gratitude for her 'clarification.' "Since nothing local can be consumed, everything required to feed the local Jaffa population had to be imported from off-world, which represented a non-trivial expense for a minor System Lord such as Satesh. It will come as no surprise that he brought in only the cheapest, most basic dehydrated consumables he could purchase. Even his own soldiers guarding the prisoners were fed the most basic of food substitutes. As you can imagine, this did nothing to improve their disposition, so conditions on Kalator were barbaric in the extreme.
"Adding to the misery, the weather is abysmal. At the mine site, winters were long and harsh. The extraction facilities were primitive and the work back-breakingly strenuous. Due to the biological and climactic environment, settlement was impossible. Conditions were so harsh that only prisoners could be made to work there, and even then only could only be persuaded to work under the most painful of inducements. Torture and summary execution were commonplace. To a warrior like Bra'tac, such conditions were intolerable. He resolved to escape at the first opportunity, no matter the consequences. Despite his vow, he was actually imprisoned for more than an Earth-year before he found an opportunity to make his escape. At that time, of the 784 Jaffa warriors who had been captured with him, only 57 remained alive."
Buffy swallowed, remembering the Hell dimension she had experienced when she ran away to LA after killing Angel. The place Teal'c was describing might have actually been worse. Seeing that she understood, the big man continued. "Bra'tac was unloading stores from a supply shuttle during a raging blizzard. Conditions were so abysmal the guards supervising the operation refused to go outside. They had little to fear; the shuttle was under remote control so could not be appropriated, the landing area was in a walled-in enclosure, and of course there was nowhere to escape to. Still, conditions within the facility were so horrific he took the chance, since he assumed the supplies he was off-loading included food concentrates which he could live off of for some time. It was only after he acted that he discovered the supplies were, in fact, lubricants for the mining equipment.
"By the time he discovered that, he had already killed two of the five guards. Naturally if was then too late to reassess his options, so he had no choice but to run. One of the pursuing guards foolishly attempted to prevent him from closing the external door by blocking it with his foot. Due to the environmental conditions that door was made of thick metal, and Bra'tac used its mass to crush the guard's leg, severing it completely from his body, causing the man to bleed to death. Bra'tac then used the severed leg as a club to kill the remaining two guards, who had unwisely attempted to stench the flow of blood from their fallen colleague.
"Bra'tac then made his escape, using the blizzard to conceal his trail and prevent anyone from following him. He walked for miles, despite having only the thinnest of clothing, until he found a cave which provided some shelter. He is a skilled outdoorsman, and was able to create a fire from locally-available materials. Despite its unique molecular arrangement, wood on Kalator burns the same as wood from anywhere else. The water was filled with microorganisms which could be lethal to alien lifeforms, but once boiled was potable. He had to make clothing from local vegetation, and keep moving to ensure he wasn't located by the sensors carried by prison search parties. Somehow, he was able to do all this for seventy three days, until he was able to make his escape, by…"
O'Neill interrupted at that point. "Seventy three days!? Without food? In winter, when he couldn't make a fire big enough to be spotted by thermal sensors? I think the old boy was stretching the truth just a bit, T."
Meeting his eyes steadily, Teal'c kept his voice even. "He did have sustenance, O'Neill."
"You said the supplies were just grease. So what did he eat?"
"The guard's leg."
There was dead silence for several long seconds, before Buffy's pretty face scrunched up in a disgusted expression. "Ewwwwwww!!!!"
O'Neill, on the other hand, was slightly more impressed. He'd never really liked Bra'tac, but… damn. "Okay, color me impressed. That is seriously Hard Core." Sam appeared to agree with Buffy, but didn't want to seem like a wuss so nodded like she agreed with her boss.
"Indeed." Giving them some time to consider his mentors actions, Teal'c prepared to carry on with the tale. Buffy, however, wanted nothing to do with it, and held up her hands, one at right angles on top of the other in a signal Teal'c recognized from one of the local athletic endeavors as calling for a 'time out.' "Is there a problem, Miss Summers?"
"He doesn't eat anyone else on the way out, does he?"
"No. But capturing a hyper-capable ship required considerable violence and brilliant improvisational tactics in order to lead a group of…"
Once again, she interrupted. "Teal'c, it doesn't matter what he did to get out. He ate the man's leg! You already made your point! Anything after the 'eating of the leg' is pretty much redundant. The guy is a complete badass! He is not going to throw a tantrum over me telling him he should have used Noxzema when his face first broke out. And if I do manage to piss him off that much, he might eat my frickin' leg!! Enough already. I get it! I'll be good. Sheeesh."
She stormed off, or at least attempted to do so, but was not quite sufficiently imposing to pull it off the way she probably intended. Carter took the opportunity to leave as well, and both men just stood and watched them until they were out of sight. Without turning to face his friend, O'Neill asked the question he had wanted to pose earlier. "Do you know what 'chirality' means?"
"I believe it is a breakfast cereal, O'Neill."
"Those are Cheerios."
The big Jaffa raised one eyebrow, dismissing the matter. "Despite her extensive combat experience, Buffy Summers continues to underestimate her opponents. It is incumbent upon us, as her teachers, to show by example that she cannot do everything alone. Given that she uses her own unthreatening appearance as a method of tactical surprise, she should be more open to the possibility that others appearances may conceal equally unexpected depths."
For a few seconds, O'Neill considered his words, before finally agreeing. "She's been looking at Bra'tac as just a washed-up has-been. You want to let her know what it took for him to survive this long."
"Indeed."
"I think you'd be surprised. I think she already knew. Maybe not the fact that he enjoys chowing down on the occasional thigh, but I don't think she'd have tried to push his buttons that hard if she didn't think there was something there worth discovering." When the Jaffa raised an eyebrow, questioningly, O'Neill recalled the look on Bra'tac's face. The excitement even a man so notoriously stone-faced couldn't hide. "I don't think she's had a lot of good male influences in her life, and probably more than a few bad ones. To the point where to gain her respect, a man is going to have to earn it the hard way. What surprises me though is that I think Bra'tac knew it too. And he didn't mind, because he's been worshipped by the Jaffa for too long. He wants to earn her respect. The same way Buffy wants to earn his.
"I think Hammond knew exactly what he was doing. No real surprise there. He usually does…"
--
The room was rarely used anymore. The Russians were more-or-less allies, and the eavesdropping devices it was designed to suppress were far too primitive to be used by the Asgard. But they weren't the opposition the five people in the room wanted to hide from. It was their own government and its minions they didn't want listening in, and the room would do a perfectly adequate job of doing just that.
It was built under the War Room, in the NORAD part of Cheyenne Mountain. Normally the SGC had no need for it, and truth be told, neither did NORAD any more. But for a quiet planning session, it couldn't be beat. No electro-magnetic energy could escape it once the door was sealed. Recording devices would not work inside. Buffy and dogs would hear an ultrasonic hum, but most people wouldn't, and the hum prevented even solid state recorders from working. In some ways that was unfortunate, because Posterity would have welcomed the Meeting Minutes of a series of conferences where humans planned the overthrow of a being of god-like power.
Buffy hadn't really wanted to join the sessions, even though they were for her benefit. Even the Asgard had acknowledged that she wasn't a good planner. Her strength was in innovating on the fly. All of the military people had just shook their heads in exasperation at her. All had pointed out to her that, in the end, she would be 'winging it' in the end, no matter how carefully they planned, no matter how accurate their data. 'No plan ever survives contact with the enemy' wasn't just a saying; it was Holy Writ. The secret wasn't knowing where you were; it was in knowing where you wanted to be. A plan gave you a good measure of where you stood in relation to where you wanted to be, and a path to get there. It was that path they were preparing.
Only Buffy kept 'notes' on a hardened USB memory chip. Nothing was kept on the local computers. For some reason she had expected them to have a table lit from underneath where they moved little men and horsies around a map as they planned their battle, but when she mentioned that O'Neill looked at her like she was an idiot. Like everyone else, military planners used computers. Powerful computers which asked questions. Lots and lots of questions. All nested, so that the answers to upper level questions lead to increasingly diverse downstream questions. They didn't know the answers to a lot of the questions. Those answers would be their main objective once they began their initial reconnaissance of Buffy's homeworld. But there were enough answers already to point them in the direction they wanted to go.
What resources do you have?
What do you know that your opponent doesn't?
What constraints is your opponent operating under?
What is your opponents ultimate objective?
What is your ultimate objective?
The answers were keyed in one at a time. Buffy wanted to kill the First. How? Use the Key. How? Dunno, but the Key is only thing potentially powerful enough to do it. Potentially? Conditions would have to be just right. Why? In normal space, the Key is almost powerless. It's on an alternate time-stream. In most alternate dimensions, the fight would destroy most of the universe. They need to move the conflict into a place where it can be fought until one of them wins. Where? A really, really weird space 'outside' of the normal universe. How? Dunno, but Glory tried to use a portal.
The questions continued, hour after hour. Days passed. Despite loving Tara's cooking, Buffy began sleeping in her cell under the Mountain again, as her restless nights were consumed by Slayer dreams. Apocalyptic dreams. Dreams about the end of not just the world, but the end of everything.
--
One morning, when she went down to the mess hall for breakfast, as she often did, Buffy was disconcerted to recognize a face seated at one of the tables. Permission had come through to begin preparations for assisting Buffy in her efforts to oppose the First, and personnel and equipment were flooding into the SGC. Hundreds of new soldiers and scientists had arrived at the Mountain, and all of them knew who Buffy was. She was pretty uncomfortable with the awe and veneration they directed at her –to say nothing of the lust—and usually tried to sit with the old hands, who were more comfortable with her due to familiarity. Her enhanced hearing permitted her to listen in on conversations which were intended to be private, and she frequently had to restrain herself from getting up and beating the crap out of someone making a graphically sexual remark they had no idea she could overhear. But until someone said something unforgivable she tried to ignore it, mostly, because she didn't know them any more than they knew her. This time she did.
It had been a long time, but the dark skin and shaved head was unmistakable. He was louder than the others, cruder, more deliberately offensive. They were looking at her as well, only being more furtive about it, making the standard sexual comments, but mostly because it was expected by their peers. Only Forrest pushed the envelope, to the point where his commanding officer shut him down when it looked like someone from another table might do it for him. Naturally, they all then turned on their CO, teasing him for his 'goody two shoes' nature, his innocence, his basic decency. The ribbing was normal, expected among the tough, he-man types in Special Forces, but in this particular case it pissed Buffy off something severely. She knew better than to call them on their sexist Neanderthal mindset, but ganging up on someone just because he wasn't acting like an uncivilized primate was just too much.
Abruptly rising, ignoring whatever O'Neill had been saying, she made her way over to their table, noting the abrupt wave of silence suddenly falling throughout the crowded dining facility. But she kept her eye on Forrest, remembering the glare, but this time noting an underlying concern. Not fear –he had never been afraid of her—but a recognition that he was a newbie, and pissing off someone with her status within his new organization the first day he was there would not go down well. Knowing that, she smiled at him, but her eyes were not amused. "You look better with your head attached. The whole cyborg look? Not a good one for you, Forrest."
She didn't raise her voice, but in the dead silence of the packed dining room her voice carried to every corner. Noting his shocked confusion, she increased the wattage of her smile and continued. "I always wondered what you were supposed to bite with that bionic jaw. And what was the point in having a mechanical arm strong enough to lift a truck when it was attached to a normal human spine? The whole design was absurd. Riley had to kill you in the end, of course. You blowed up real good! We put your bits into a Hefty bag, tossed them into the Recycle Bin, then we went home and had pizza and beer." Buffy was going to say something about how she had also always wondered if his anger at her was due to repressed homosexual attraction towards Riley, and jealousy over their relationship, but figured making an enemy for life wasn't worth the momentary amusement of asking him.
Turning away from him only after meeting his eyes long enough to pass on the message that she could have taken it up a notch if she'd wanted to, Buffy simply nodded at the man seated beside him. "Graham." As she expected, Miller simply returned the nod, his eyes steady, assessing. Ice to Forrest's fire. Riley had made Forrest his 2IC, but Buffy had always privately thought he'd made a mistake. In her eyes, Graham had always been the better man, despite his lower test scores. But she wasn't a soldier, and it hadn't been her call, so she hadn't said anything.
Finally there was the man in question. Howdy Doodie himself… in the nicest possible way. Handsome, clean cut, tall, strong, intelligent, didn't smoke, or swear, wrote home to his mom every week… Riley was so fucking perfect she sometimes wanted to scream. He was a cardboard cutout of a man; next to him, Spike had been more human. He was everything she had grown up wanting in a man… and once she had him, she found herself bored to tears as soon as the initial new-relationship rush faded. Which wasn't at all fair to him. He was what he was, and once he left it did not take him long to find someone who appreciated those qualities she found so aggravating. Maybe it was because she herself was so imperfect, that she was enraged by perfection in others. From what she saw, Riley's wife had been as perfect as he was. They were well matched. There were times when she had full-color fantasies of shooting them both in the head.
No wonder she had jumped into bed with Spike. It had been pretty embarrassing at the time, but she cringed even more at the alternative. Pining for Riley… seeking out perfection, then being bored to tears once she found it. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl. But that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate him now for what he was: probably the most genuinely decent man she'd ever known. Even Giles had had a dark side. Undoubtedly so did Riley, but he was a man she would always trust to watch her back. Which was more than she could say with any of the other strangers in the silent dining room. "Hello Riley. Do you have a few minutes?"
--
Knowing she was elevating his status from 'untried newbie' to 'Studly Man-God' just by acknowledging his existence within such company, Finn immediately jumped to his feet, ignoring the breakfast he hadn't touched. The top of her head barely reached the level of his shoulder, leaving him stunned that someone so small had done what he had witnessed when the networks rebroadcast her fight with the alien monster. He wanted to say something, something cool, something to his friends, smugly gloating but not too offensive, but couldn't remember their names, or actually remember how to talk either. Fortunately, training allowed his legs to move despite the fact that his brain was stuck in neutral. Riley Finn couldn't believe what was happening. Buffy Summers wanted to talk to him. Holy cow.
The past few months had been so mind-blowing he could barely recall the world as it existed only a short time before. Two months ago he had been the apex of God's Creation; humanity was unique, their place in the universe assured. Then the revelation about aliens. The StarGate. War with the Goa'uld. He had immediately volunteered his team for Offworld duties, of course. They'd already been to Iraq twice, and nobody wanted a return visit. The 'Stan might have been more interesting… but compared to fighting intelligent parasitic snakes on an alien planet, even the mountains of Afghanistan weren't quite so exotic. Then, once they'd arrived, they were selected to take part in a newer, potentially even more critical battle, in a completely different universe. A battle being encouraged by the mighty Asgard, under the direct leadership of the already-mythical Slayer herself.
And now, that same Slayer had just come up to him, obviously knew him, and invited him to take a walk. Holy cow. Just… wow! Everyone was looking at him. The room was dead silent. Even Colonel O'Neill was staring at him from the head table, his eyes assessing, to say nothing of the other members of his unit. He knew what the other guys thought of him –they respected his abilities, but considered him to be a bit of a dork—but that reputation had just changed dramatically. And he hadn't even done anything yet! Not that he would really mind doing something. She was even prettier up-close than she had appeared on television. Smaller, more vulnerable; less Slayer and more woman. A person instead of a caricature. Who walked really fast, and he was falling behind.
Rushing to catch up, he waited until they were in the corridor, beyond prying ears, before finally remembering how to communicate. "I… uhm… take it we know each other, on your world?"
Without turning to look at him, Buffy nodded, not really sure what to say. She hadn't really thought things through before acting, not an unusual situation for her to be in, but had just been upset over them ribbing her old boyfriend. That was her job. Or at least it used to be. "We were… close. Pretty much lived together for awhile. I screwed it up, of course."
When she turned to look at him, he wore a charmingly shy, if slightly sly smile. "Want another chance?"
Buffy laughed, once again surprised by how endearingly sweet Riley could be when he put his mind to it. He was the very antithesis of Spike. Which of course was part of the problem. But at least now she could appreciate Riley for the man he was, if not the man she wanted him to be. "The problems we ran into, well, they would still be there. I don't think I'm the girl you want to bring home to your mother."
"I not so sure about that. Mother is actually one of your biggest fans. She called all the neighbors when she found out I was being reassigned to the SGC."
Smirking at him a bit evilly, Buffy got just a little bit nasty. "Would she still be a fan after I told her we once got trapped in a haunted house by a sexually-repressed poltergeist and were 'forced' to do the horizontal-mambo for literally hours to power up a bunch of horny little ghosts?"
It had been soooo long since she had seen a man blush. It really was cute. After a few seconds, Riley recovered enough to talk, despite his dry mouth. "Uhm… I think it might go over better if you said that I was reading poetry to you… while fully clothed… in another room… where you were visiting… accompanied by a chaperone… who was a nun. Mother is a bit… old-fashioned."
"And I'm not. Hence the lack of a 'happily ever after.' Don't worry about it though. The sex was great!" She had almost forgotten how much fun it was to tease Riley. He really was a sweet guy. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, she had stopped being a 'sweet' girl. Noting how red his face had become, Buffy laughed, more at herself than him, but made up for it by wrapping one of his muscular forearms in both of hers. "It wasn't a horrible breakup, Riley. Well, it did involve unmarked black helicopters, a wild chase scene, and a few stakings of random vampires; but by Sunnydale standards wasn't too far over the top. I'd still trust you with my life. Which is good, because I'm fairly certain that after my little display back there Jack is going to assign you to do just that."
Riley simply nodded, aware of what this would mean to his career, but mostly awed by what she had said earlier. Never having previously imagined his name and the word 'stud' appearing in the same sentence, he was almost dizzy with the effort it took to suppress an imagination which wanted to put pictures to her words. Despite his strict upbringing he had no objections to pre-marital sex. It was just that he'd never pictured himself indulging in such activities with a girl like Buffy Summers. Although he would have liked to pursue the personal parts of the discussion, Riley also knew his team was counting on him, and if they were suddenly going to be taking a lead position on this assignment then he had better get his mind out of the gutter. No matter what had happened in another reality, in this one the girl was effectively his boss. "You can count on us, ma'am."
Sputtering with a combination of horror and amusement, Buffy settled for glaring up at the much taller man. "I'll make you a deal, Riley. You don't call me 'ma'am' and I won't tell your friends about the two of us having oral sex on a balcony overlooking the park while the rest of the team were down below thinking we were backing them up in the hunt for a Lei-Ach demon."
This time it was Riley's turn to sputter, his expression so filled with horror that Buffy could only laugh, her good mood restored. She didn't love Riley, but she did like him, and it was nice to be able to just tease someone with no malice, no underlying motivations. No one she knew was so easy to tease. Sobering a bit, Buffy reminded herself that not even his counterpart had been so easy to tease. Especially not after he got wrung through the graduate course in fun that had been Sunnydale. "Can I give you some advice, Riley?"
"Of course."
What else was he going to say? Silently shaking her head, Buffy clasped his hand with hers, her other hand lightly grasping his forearm. "When we first met, you were a lot like you are now. Sweet. Decent. Very good at what you do. But naïve as hell."
He didn't say anything, but Buffy felt the way his arm muscles momentarily tensed. Obviously he'd heard the word tossed his way before, and didn't like it. But it was the truth, and if he was going to work with her he needed to know, so she continued. "You were so filled with youthful idealism. Mom, apple pie, and the Flag. You were a walking recruiting poster! And everyone took advantage of it. You trusted your superiors to have motives as pure as yours. You trusted your men to be as honorable as you were. And you trusted me to be the girl you wanted me to be, instead of the girl I really was. For our own reasons we all took advantage of you; but you let us. You can't afford that sort of innocence, Riley. The price was too high last time, and you won't enjoy the lesson any better this time around."
Once again she could feel the almost imperceptible muscle contractions, and knew him well enough to follow his thought processes without a word being said. He was thinking that she didn't know him. That he was older and wiser than her. That nobody could have achieved what he had if he were that naïve. That he didn't want to be one of the old, cynical officers he saw all too often. That she was gorgeous, but he already understood why they'd broken up. "I am what I am, Miss Summers."
Surprisingly, she smiled up at him, not offended by his cold tone. "That's what I said, Riley. You're a decent, wonderful man. But you're working in an occupation filled with not-so-decent, not-so-wonderful men. Lives depend on you. My life will probably depend on you. If you're anything like the Riley I remember, I'm about the ten billionth person to give you that same warning. There are bad people out there, Riley. And they'll use you if they can."
Before he could state that he was well aware of that fact, Buffy continued. "That was the real reason we broke up. I'm not sure if it was me or just the circumstances that made my life such a non-stop amusement ride of sheer joy, but in the end, between us, we broke something in you. Something important, something that made you the man you were. You had to leave to find yourself again. Reassemble what you could of your honor, your faith in God and your fellow man. We just about destroyed you, Riley. You thought I was an angel, and couldn't imagine me associating with monsters. You thought two 'wrongs' could never make a 'right,' and that the 'good guys' always won.
"Pretty much everyone you trusted betrayed you in one way or another. I'm not kidding about you having to kill Forrest. Yeah, a 'not-fun' time was had by all."
Riley had heard enough. Stopping, turning to face the girl, he only dimly felt her hands release his arm, too irritated to miss the comforting warmth. "Why are you telling me this?"
Earlier, he had noticed that her eyes were beautiful. He hadn't realized they were so ancient, filled with the remembrance of horrors he could not even imagine. Suddenly these were not the hazel eyes of a pretty girl; these were the eyes of a Slayer, witnesses to things mere mortals were not meant to see. Didn't want to see. Should be grateful for never having seen. "Do you believe in God, Riley?"
"Of course." He didn't even have to think about his answer.
"I don't." She didn't have to think about it either, and her eyes were cold as she met his shocked gaze. "I died, and I went to heaven itself, and I still don't believe in God. I don't believe in a God who would permit what was done to the First Slayer, just to clean up the mess He left behind. I don't believe in a God who would do terrible things to decent people for reasons too obscure for us to understand. I don't believe in a God who would 'reward' faith with pain, and worship with disillusionment. And I especially don't believe in a God who would demand that I sacrifice my sister to prevent something evil from happening! I don't believe in a God who would do those things, Riley.
"But I do believe in a Devil who would. And I will fight that miserable bastard with my dying breath."
A that moment Riley could not believe he had ever doubted this woman could do what he had seen her do at the airport. Her eyes were so cold, so intense with the depth of her commitment and barely-leashed rage, that he knew to the deepest part of his soul that this was the Slayer, and he would forget it at his peril. This was someone he had better listen to. "You're a religious man, Riley. The last time you were in Sunnydale you were shattered so badly by what you saw that you had a crisis of faith. One you overcame, but at a terrible cost. If you're going to do this, you had better prepare yourself for what you are going to see. Because I am fighting the Devil itself. To beat her, I will unleash Hell. And I am not speaking metaphorically."
Seeing that he was beginning to understand, Buffy got to the point. "If this goes the way it did back home, it won't be long before Generals are calling you up to tell you to spy on me, and they want you to get me to do what they want, because you're a soldier and are supposed to follow their orders. Politicians will come calling, telling you to spy on me and they want you to get me to do what they want, because you're an American citizen and they represent The People. When you talk to the local priest, he's going to tell you to spy on me, and he wants you to get me to do what he wants, because you're a good Christian and he speaks for God.
"They are all full of crap. Don't fall into that trap again, Riley. You know the difference between right and wrong. You don't get to do the 'wrong' thing and blame it on 'following orders.' You did that before, and you should already know what lies at the end of that path."
Rapidly getting over his instant crush, Riley met her eyes with a glare of his own. "Usually those people have more experience and information than I do, Miss Summers. One of the reasons I follow lawful orders is because I value the insight and accountability of a valid chain of command. Decisions are not arrived at by fiat. You're standing there, lecturing me about being a wimp because I follow orders, but it sure seems like that is what you want me to do, only your orders and no one else's."
Buffy sighed. She really did need to work on her speech-making abilities. This had been so much clearer when she'd argued it out in her head. Or maybe Riley was just being Riley. "I don't recall asking you to follow my damned orders, Riley. What I said was that I wanted you to follow your own conscience instead of doing what you're told like a good little boy. And don't give me any crap about 'experience.' I have more experience in these things than every one of those idiots combined, and I sure as hell am a lot more accountable. When I screw up, I die! I won't ask for blind obedience from you or anyone else. But I also can't afford to wait for you to get approval from everyone on your 'Older and Wiser' list every time I ask you to do something. I don't think that's too much to ask."
It wasn't, but he was still offended. "I have never given you or anyone else reason to question my integrity, Miss Summers."
This time, she met his eyes without flinching. "Obviously you have, or I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place. I could really use you on this, Riley. I know what you can do, and I know the kind of man you are. But I can't have you going behind my back. You're too good a soldier not to know how badly things end when there are multiple chains of command." She could tell that he was still angry, but at least was listening, so gently patted his arm. "You backed me up last time because you chose to. You went against your orders, and your superiors, and even your team to do it. It was the right thing to do, and the only reason any of us survived. But you had to go through some serious soul-searching before you came to a decision, and managed to piss off pretty much everyone before you did. So figure out what you are going to do now, before it's too late. Otherwise you're going to watch your friends die. Again."
--
Several weeks later a high-ranking group arrived to observe the return of the Quantum Mirror to the Gate Room. Although Hammond had recommended that it be destroyed, there was never even the slightest possibility that it would be. Everyone knew the threat it represented, but everyone was equally aware that it also provided a uniquely powerful option should there be a ahem 'cause for concern within the planetary defense posture.' In other words, if they couldn't reach the Alpha Site, high government officials wanted another bolt hole. It had been under heavy guard at Area 51, isolated so that even if someone tossed a nuke through from the other side, damage would be minimal. Scientists had tried but so far failed to come up with a workable iris like that on the StarGate. Until they did, the Mirror never went anywhere unless there was enough firepower nearby to stop anything that might pop out of it.
So the already-formidable defenses within the Gate Room had been seriously upgraded. The Asgard had provided designs for some kind of electromagnetic shield for the X-302 which was adapted for a more mundane purpose, there were gas jets and flames and rockets and machine guns and for all Buffy knew even a bear or two, oh my. They knew her original universe had its own Quantum Mirror on Earth because Buffy had a dream about it, which was also how she knew which among the infinite combinations on the control device would open it on her old world. That 'Gate was located deep in a cave in the middle of nowhere in eastern Turkey. Not far from Mt. Ararat, oddly enough.
The initial group to go through would have to dig out of the cave, then make their way to the surface, where Forrest would have to make arrangements to get both himself and the Mirror to the States. He was the only one the SGC knew who did not have a counterpart alive on the other side, and since they didn't want to warn the First about ECF they would just have to live with the fact that it would take some time for Forrest to do everything by himself. Fortunately, time was not a priority. Given the time distortion, even if it took him a year, only a month would pass for the rest of them.
Preparations were begun for the leap into the unknown. Power was provided by the 'sending' side, so fortunately there was no need for the 'receiving' Mirror to be 'plugged in' to its own power source. The scientists were surprised when it took far more power than usual to maintain a stable link with the 'Buffy-verse.' They had to draw nearly 1200 megawatts of power from the national grid over and above their own internal supply to maintain the link. It probably had something to do with the 'magical' nature of her universe, and theories were tossed out to explain the differences. A team was sent through for a quick trip to clean out the cave where the local Mirror had been hidden, and to set out testing equipment to determine what they might face once the full team was deployed.
Finally, three weeks later by their calendar, everything was ready, and the first phase of the operation was begun. It was time for Buffy to introduce herself to the Ronin.