I haven't had nearly as much time as usual to work on my story, so this one is a bit short. It's also ends at a clean breaking point, and the next group of scenes isn't done yet. I hope you all still enjoy. Jon opens up a little. But just a little.
May 28th, 2010. Alpha Site
Jon swore vehemently under his breath at the corpse lying before him. This was the second infiltrator they had found thanks to Cassie's idea, and just like all the other mystery aliens, this one too had died. They had tried to capture this one alive, passing in a knockout gas while the woman slept in her bed, but it hadn't done any good.
They had opened her door and even managed to begin injecting the full anesthesia before the woman had woken up, but at that point it was all over - a short five seconds of struggling before she suddenly relaxed and began the familiar twitching.
"Damn it!"
He turned to Dr. Fitz who was giving orders to the orderlies lifting the body onto the cart.
"Doc! Why the hell was she awake? You said that would put her deep asleep, enough that she wouldn't even feel the shot!"
"Alien, remember, alien! They obviously react differently to fentanyl compounds than humans."
Jon poked the man in the chest, "And you never thought of that? You said there wasn't a chance she would be able to feel the needle."
"Alien! You trigger-happy idiot. How was I supposed to know how their bodies treat chemicals?"
"Doctor. Fitz. The doctor. You're supposed to be the one to figure this stuff out. You're supposed to be a doctor, not some hack."
"Watch it, young man. You're nothing more than the muscle here, don't poke your nose in where you don't comprehend."
Jon clenched down hard on the sudden rage flooding through him.
'Scientists! Damn all scientists to-'
Tex suddenly appeared in front of his face, blocking his view of the doctor.
"Careful Jon, don't kill him. He ain't worth it, son."
Tex's voice slowly cut through Jon's struggle between rage and control and Jon spun, marching out of the room. He could hear the footsteps he recognized as Tex's following behind but while he wasn't about to hurt the doctor any more he wasn't quite ready to talk.
Two hallways later he reached his door and kicked at the metal door.
Krangch.
The door buckled inward enough that the lock lost hold and it creaked open. Another kick slammed it back into the wall to rebound at Jon, but his fist met it, leaving another dent in the abused metal.
Jon strode across his small room and leaned up against the wall opposite the door, breathing hard.
'Damn it! That was our last chance to catch someone. I go to all the trouble of getting a key to check everyone in the base, and all for nothing because of stupid, pig-headed, unimaginative moron of a doctor to blow it.'
Jon thumped his head against the wall.
It wasn't really the doctor, though. He had nearly eight years of dealing with aliens and the differences that could so easily catch one by surprise. He should have thought of that. He knew the Jaffa had a bunch of differences even without their symbiotes, reacted to all sorts of drugs differently. He pushed back off the wall and grabbed a chair before collapsing into it.
Tex was there leaning against the door frame, idly inspecting the door.
Jon winced in embarrassment at the bent metal door. Losing his cool? After this many years of experience and control?
"Gonna let me know what that was about, pardner?"
Jon gave a sigh.
"I should have thought of the possibility that the target wouldn't have reacted normally to the gas. There should have been some other plan. It was my fault. We blew our last chance at getting a live infiltrator because of me."
"You were in charge of this operation?"
Jon looked up at Tex in irritation.
"No, I was only point. But I'm the one with -"
Tex overrode Jon. "And you're a scientist with fancy degrees in alien biology?"
"I know more about aliens than anyone -"
Tex hammered his voice over Jon's again. "You knew these aliens?"
Jon gave up and waved his hands in irritation.
"Fine, it's not entirely on me. But," he pointed his finger at Tex, "I do have more experience with aliens and their potential differences than anyone else on the base. It should have occurred to me that the knockout gas wouldn't work on the alien."
Tex gave him a puzzled look. "Jon, those sorts of things are for the operation planners to come up with. Doc Fitz is gonna be raked over the coals for this. And I -" Jon began to object but Tex raised his voice, "- I don't have any real alien experience and I should have gone to my expert for advice."
"No, you aren't at fault here, Tex! I knew about the plan and it didn't occur to me … that …"
Jon plopped into a chair in defeat. He wanted to object and shout that it was his fault! Tex had pointed out that it wasn't, but …
'But damn it all, I still should have known!'
It wouldn't do any good to argue about it, though Jon still knew deep down that it was his fault. Somehow.
He was just so used to being in command.
"Tex, I'm sorry. I've … Let me tell you something. You've been operating on less than full information and it just reared up and bit us all in the ass."
Jon closed his eyes. He wouldn't give everything, but he could give something.
"I don't want to go into the details, and they're really, really classified so keep this under that ten gallon hat of yours."
Tex looked out into the hallway both ways and then came in and leaned against Jon's desk.
"You got it."
"I've actually been on the Stargate program for seven years."
He could see the arithmetic going in Tex's head and the look of puzzlement that quickly formed.
"Biologically I'm only twenty years old. My resume and official records I gave to Blackbriar list me as twenty four, but biologically I'm only twenty. Yes, you guys hired me when,biologically speaking, I was only eighteen years old. I had a run-in with some alien technology that knocked more than a few years off me. That's one of the reasons I insisted the 'don't touch' principle be so strongly emphasized in our briefings for incoming people."
He had worked out this story as a partial explanation when it had been apparent he was going back into the Stargate world. He sure as hell didn't want people knowing he was just a clone, and a clone of General O'Neill as well - that was classified at some extremely high levels, and for very good reason.
"The details I can't - won't - get into, but I nearly died. If it weren't for then Colonel O'Neill I'd be dead. As it was, I couldn't exactly rejoin society and I couldn't continue in the Stargate program, so they set me up with the cover that I used to join Blackbriar."
Tex's eyes were widened, but otherwise his face was expressionless.
"I was active, really, really active. At the point I had to leave, there were only a handful of people that had the experience with aliens that I had. I really should have thought of it - aliens very often don't react to drugs the way humans do.
"I realize that it wasn't my fault," he waved placatingly at Tex, "but I hadn't been sharing everything with you guys, and because of that I didn't give my full support to the mission. I don't know for sure if it would have occurred to me to question the effectiveness of the gas, but I should have been helping enough that I was at least in the position to be when decisions were being made."
Tex spent long seconds in thought, but Jon wasn't twitching - Tex always thought carefully about things.
"How many years did you have taken off?"
Jon frowned. That was the question he finally had?
"Won't say exactly, but it was well over a decade, and … well, let's just say I'm not the same person I was."
Tex nodded. "Huh. You're just nineteen, or at least that's what your body is aged? Well, don't that just beat all. Sounds sort of nice, in some ways, but I suspect it hasn't been as nice as a person might imagine. General O'Neill doesn't have a nephew, either, I'd bet. Your familiarity with command makes more sense now too."
Tex paused again for a long moment and then nodded, having apparently come to a decision.
"All right. I'll make sure you're included in anything that even remotely touches on aliens or other planets. We'll give your base security duties to someone else. Trisha did well while you were out on 'vacation'."
Tex gave a wry smile. Three days of vacation? Coming back with a solution to finding hidden aliens?
"You're head of security for all trips through the Stargate. They've been picking up the number of trips, and it should probably have a full-time head to run it."
Jon nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind, but I'm not sure I'm the one you want to put in that position."
Tex pursed his lips. "You've got the experience and you've certainly proved the … damn."
Jon raised his eyebrows.
"I'm beginning to see at least a little of the troubles you might have been facing. According to your records, you're still over a month shy of even twenty-five. Two years experience with the company and four years experience with the military. Putting you in the position is ludicrous when you look at it like that."
Jon shrugged. "Yup. That's certainly been a part of the headaches."
Tex shook his head. "All right. I can't make you the head of Stargate security, but I'm still going to make that position - it's busy enough that we do need the position. I'll get someone to fill it and suggest very strongly that they listen to you and include you in planning. Officially, you'll be just another person on the protective details going through the Gate."
"Works for me. I wasn't looking forward to getting bumped out of doing Gate trips when this happened. I'd still like to be active, but … not if it's going to endanger missions. I like your solution." Jon gestured to himself. "Staying active is one of the few things that have turned out well about this. That, and my knees don't hurt now."
Tex smiled. "Welp, I guess you ought to get something out of this fubar'd situation. I'll keep you active. Was this" Tex gestured to Jon's body, "something Ancient? You certainly were death on touching anything Ancient."
Jon shook his head. "Asgard. Ancient stuff is worse."
Tex's face smiled a little, taking Jon's statement as a joke. Jon stared back with a sour look.
Tex slowly shifted from humor to skepticism and then to a wince as Jon made it clear there wasn't a joke.
He sighed.
"You did tell me. Weirdness."
Jon smirked a little.
"You remember Daniel Jackson from a few months ago?"
Tex nodded affirmatively.
"Yeah, let's just say he's really bad at staying dead."
Jon resisted giggling as Tex's expression fluctuated between skeptical, alarmed, amused, and back to skeptical.
