Blegh. I'm so tired that I can't even write properly. Stayed up way too late last night and now I'm thinking that was a bad idea. Don't write while you're mostly asleep. Don't edit while you're exhausted. In other words, don't do what I do.
June 29th, 2010, P4X-217
"Dead or alive, you're still coming with us. Why exactly should we let you live?"
"Because all life is precious?"
The three smugglers holding zats and guns on him looked confused.
"You're saying - ? How much are you willing to pay us for your precious life?"
The smaller man asked this. Jon was pretty sure he was just a body to hold a weapon in this group. The other two were in charge.
"I have the blu-ray of the Simpson."
"What is this weapon, this 'blue ray'?"
"Well, it's back at the Alpha base. If you let me head back there to pick it up, I'll show you."
The three smugglers reacted predictably and Jon turned his head with the blow, but it still laid him out on the floor with stars exploding in his eyes. The largest smuggler pulled his rifle back and aimed it at Jon again.
'Of course it would be the biggest guy who beats on me. They should give the little shrimps a chance do the beatings - equal opportu-'
His favorite female smuggler, Miss Tats, walked around in front of him. Her boot came flashing in and hit his stomach. Jon's air exploded out as he and the chair skidded back across the floor.
"That's more like it," Jon said after he regained his breath. "Equal opportunity workplace."
"This fool has nothing, Ya'nay. Let's take him and leave the evidence here for his people to find."
Jon had been unpleasantly surprised to find out that the largest of the smugglers looked like an ape, but was much more clever than his face suggested. He wasn't entirely sure, but he suspected he and Ya'nay, Miss Tats, were an item.
"What? You aren't gonna keep me for yourself? Ya'nay, darling, I thought we had something special."
Ape Boy aimed a kick at Jon's face, but he tucked his head, turning it into a glancing blow on the top of his head.
'Yup, definitely something going on between those two.'
Even the glancing blow, though, was enough to take a few seconds to re-gather his wits.
"... than Netan will. Netan's on his way out, and as long as we have their support, when Netan falls, we'll be the ones ready to pick up the pieces. We'll stick with the plan, so shut up and get the supplies."
Jon recognized the name of the current leader of the Lucian Alliance and wasn't sure if he was happy or sad that the man was in trouble. On one hand, anything that was keeping Netan distracted from the conflict with Earth was good, but on the other hand Jon didn't like the skullduggery going on. Better the devil you know, in Jon's opinion.
'Keep them busy for another five minutes Jon. We're getting close.'
The words sounded in Jon's ear and he wracked his brain for a way to slow them down that didn't involve getting beaten. That was getting old.
He and his team were on planet running a rescue op. Alpha Team 3 had been escorting a group of scientists to examine the ruins. It hadn't been an advanced civilization and didn't have any signs of activity. Should have been a piece of cake, but Jon had insisted on a higher frequency check-up schedule, and when they'd not responded to hails, had gone in with his Alpha Team 1.
The trackers he had also added to everyone's gear had worked, and they'd followed their signal easily. Right to where they'd found the entire group, security and scientists, unconscious and guarded by a dozen Lucian Alliance thugs plus his favorite tatted girl.
Diversion and rescue had been a success except for Jon who'd taken the rear and caught a zat shot. His team had properly taken the unconscious people to the Stargate before returning for him.
Five more minutes.
"Hey guys, all joking aside, whoever your allies are - and I'm sure they're great - they aren't going to stand up to Earth if you keep causing trouble. Right now we're busy with the Ori, but we're kicking their butt. Once we get done with them, you aren't going to be more than a bump for Earth to roll over. Earth really doesn't want to be mixed up in your little internal squabbles - let me go, and you guys can walk away just fine."
Theoretically, he could try to be serious. He'd never tried that before. Maybe it would work. The no-account thug looked nervous at this. The other two? Sigh. Less impressed. Ok, scratch 'serious' off of possible techniques.
Miss Tats came over and crouched at his face. With arms and legs attached to a wooden chair, he couldn't do much more than turn his head to look up at her.
She pulled out a knife and placed its tip right behind his ear.
'Crap. So much for serious. I'll take the beatings over getting my brain spiked.'
"But ya' know what? Screw Earth. I've always had a thing for tattoos and knives. Maybe I could join you! Dump the ugly guy there and we'll rule the universe. You and me, gorgeous, whaddya say?"
The smaller goon snorted in amusement and Jon could hear the big guy walking up and braced himself for a boot in the back.
Ya'nay held up her hand and smiled.
"So, you think your little dirtball is going to roll right over us, huh? You've got no idea who you're dealing with. We're going to hit you so hard and fast that by the time you know anything's happening, it'll already be over.
"And your smart mouth? Well we don't need to beat anything out of you, really. That's just for fun. By the time you're done, you'll have told everything you know and you'll wish it had been done with a beating. I was considering killing you - live specimens are marginally preferable, but only barely. But, once we get you back to Cheta, you'll wish I had killed you clean.
"I'm going to watch every minute, and love every scream."
'Jokes don't work, serious doesn't work. What is it with these people?!'
"Uh huh. Ba'al did that thing way better than the Lucian Alliance could ever dream. I handled Ba'al's worst and came out whistling. You bunch of losers couldn't get so much as my pancake recipe out of me. Come on, stop playing around. You're dealing with the big boys now. Wise up and let me go."
That wasn't even remotely true, but they didn't have to know that.
A flash of irritation crossed her tattooed face.
"Watch it boy. I haven't played with someone for a while. I might decide to have some fun before I turn you over."
"Ooo, kinky! I've got a few things you've never seen before. Ugly Boy could watch and maybe learn something."
Jon was expecting a kick, but instead the big man laughed.
"Oh I will watch, little boy. I love watching her work."
Then the kick came.
It crunched through the wooden slats of the back of the chair and hit Jon in the upper back, sending a red bolt of pain through his body, but the chair had provided at least a little protection. Jon held in his groan.
"Ok, get this joke back to the ship and take off. It's not the whole group, but he'll do. Everything else is still set up just fine. It'll work."
Ya'nay stood up, giving out orders to the other two.
The two men yanked Jon upright and began to drag him across the floor toward the tel'tak starting up next to the warehouse they'd used to hold the captives.
'Just another minute,' Jon thought. 'I just needed one more minute!'
He threw himself to the side as hard as he could, yanking himself and his chair out of their grasps and dropping painfully to the ground.
He earned a few kicks for that, using up a few more seconds before they reached for him again. The chair had received enough abuse that it had considerable wiggle room as it began to break apart and Jon twisted his body around enough to sink his teeth into the smaller goon's hand.
"Yeeaaoooww!"
Jon bit down as hard as he could, trying to hang on as the man tried to yank away.
The larger man swung a fist that snapped Jon's head back, freeing the smuggler from Jon's bite.
Jon jerked himself around, trying to dodge the kicks the two of them rained down on him. The chair finally broke apart enough for him to lunge away, but only for a moment before the two smugglers leaped on top of him, crushing him down between their weight and his still partially hampered limbs.
"You little pisser! I'm gonna rip your eyes -"
Zaaaap!
Jon felt the jolt of electricity hit and darkness came over him too quickly for a thought to register.
"Take a look at this!"
Jon whirled to see Daniel reaching for large, glowing symbol that would blow everything to pieces.
He tried to yell but his voice caught in his throat.
Daniel's hand came down on the big red button and the cave began to quake. Jon took off running toward his friend as a huge chunk of rock began to fall toward the archaeologist.
His feet slipped on the dust as he ran. He reached down with his hands to pull himself along. It was too slow!
"Looks like the rocks say you're a poopy head! Ha ha! Jack is a poopy head!"
"Shut up," Jon yelled over the roaring temple. A huge stone ball was rolling behind him, threatening to crush him.
"Over here, sir!"
Jon turned toward Cassie as she stepped out of a room, holding a little ebola dog.
The dog jumped out and began chasing him as he ran away, trying to get away from the sickness.
"Jon."
"Jon!"
Cassie kept calling him while Ba'al began laughing in the background.
Jon groaned.
"Jon. You're safe. Jon. Wake up, Jon"
The voices slowly merged into one he knew he recognized, but couldn't put with a name.
He opened his eyes and quickly closed them again as the lights seemed to burn him.
"Just a second."
Trisha. That was the voice.
The lights dropped in intensity and Jon pushed his eyes open.
"Doc called me ... ago and said you were … your coma. Thought I would …."
Jon couldn't concentrate on her words long enough to understand, and he was so tired.
He forced his eyes open again to see Trisha talking.
"... two zat blasts almost killed you. Fortunately … from enough of the shock that you survived. Barely."
He tried to talk but his mouth was glued together.
He missed her movement, but a straw poked between his lips and the tiny trickle of water suddenly filled his mouth with ecstasy. He'd never had water that good!
"Wha hap?"
"We got you back, but the tattooed bitch had zapped the whole pile of you ... leave you and the other two."
Jon could catch more of what she was saying, but was still losing bits and pieces. His memory was starting to work again, though.
"Ok?"
"Everyone is fine. They were knocked out with a gas, but they all recovered fine. You're ... zatted, and it was touch-and-go for a while, but you stuck with us."
"Goo."
Jon felt darkness begin to take him again.
The next time he woke up, he was feeling much better, though his mouth was filled with cotton. No nurses seemed to be around, but there was a water and straw by his bed. His arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and were stiff as wood, but he managed to bring the cup over and get a sip of water.
Ahhh…. Once again the delightful feeling flowed through his mouth and he savored the luxury.
He slowly began working his hands and arms, then his legs, bringing them back under control. As he was sitting up, an orderly came in.
"Oh! You're awake!"
Jon glared at her. He sure as hell wasn't sleepwalking, and her voice seemed to pierce his ears.
"Yeah. How long … I been out?"
His voice wasn't behaving very well and he grimaced as his unused throat protested the abuse.
"Twelve hours. Now, take it easy and I'll check your vitals."
"Just get me my team. I want to know what happened, and … I have stuff to tell them."
"Don't worry about that. Everyone is back safe and sound. You just lie back and relax while I check you out."
She pushed him back with what felt like irresistible force and he decided to save his energy. She shined the light in his eye, easily holding his hands down and scolding him like a child. Reflexes worked, and she sure as hell didn't seem to be giving him any modesty room with the damn hospital gown! Then, just to top it all off she tried to jab him with a needle for some reason! He smacked it away and she yelled a little before going to get a new one.
Whatever.
Jon waited until she was out of the room before sitting back up. Doctors were right up there with scientists, in his opinion, and he wasn't about to put up with it.
"Jon? What are you doing up? Did they rele-"
Trisha's voice caught him a few doors shy of his own. He kept going.
"Of course they didn't. You didn't hurt anyone on your way out of there did you?"
"Oh shut up."
Trisha grinned as she came up next to him as he swiped his card to unlock his door.
"Mmmm, nice ass there flyboy."
"Damn hospitals!"
"Yeah, but they kept you alive, so I guess you ought to give them some slack."
"They used it all up by shining their little lights in my eyes and poking me with needles."
Jon was feeling grumpy because he was almost ready to collapse. He didn't want to do it in front of anyone, though. He had reached his bed and stood irresolutely over it. If he sat down ...
Trisha pushed him from behind and he couldn't help but collapse onto his bed.
"What the hell!?"
"Come off it, grumpy gills. Sit down before you collapse and I'll get you some decent clothes."
'If it weren't for this stupid gown leaving my ass hanging out, I'd just stay here.'
Jon rolled himself over and relaxed as he heard Trisha rummaging through his clothes.
He must have blinked out for a moment, because clothes suddenly landed on him and jerked him awake.
"Get dressed, 'cuz I'm pretty sure they're gonna come here quickly to drag you back to the infirmary."
Jon groaned as he began pulling on his clothes and boots. Trisha caught him up with the rest of the details after he had left.
"... So, we sent three teams back to scout the area afterward and it looked like it was a drug gathering area for something called 'kassa'. We're still pulling together everything we can find. I'd say it was just back luck that AT3 and their scientists ran across a drug center if it weren't for the presence of our tattooed lady friend."
Jon nodded. Relaxed back against the wall, he was working to not fall asleep while still recovering his energy.
"Yeah, while they had me, they roughed me up a bit and it sounded like they had a lot more than a drug run going on. They are plotting against Netan somehow, and it sounds like they have some secret backers. I'm guessing it's our friends with the brain poison. They made it sound like they were supposed to be taking people with them. There's more going on here, but I don't know what."
Trisha opened her mouth but a rapping at the door interrupted her. "Jon O'Neill! Open up!"
Jon rolled his eyes and waved Trisha away as he stood up.
"I'll get it."
"Are you in there?" There was more pounding and then Jon heard the speaker say to someone else. "Go ahead and open the door. He's probably unconscious."
Jon yanked the door open with as fierce a scowl as he could manage. "Or he could be changing out of that ridiculous hospital gown!"
The security guard who had been about to swipe his own badge looked worried, and Dr. Fitz looked startled and then tried to bluster.
"You're supposed to be back in your bed. We haven't finished …"
"Yeah, you have finished with me. I'm fine and I can't wait on your procedures to speak with General Richards."
"But -"
"But nothing," Jon overrode. "I'm fine to get out of bed, walk here with my ass hanging out of that stupid gown, and get myself dressed. I'm fine to go see General Richards too."
At this point Trisha stepped up next to Jon.
"I met O'Neill along the way and he is moving around just fine. I am going to accompany him to General Richards."
The security guard, seeing his boss there stood to the side to let them through the door and the stepped through.
Jon considered bumping past the doctor, but he wasn't feeling strong and he knew it, so instead he stepped around. Trisha took care of the bump.
"I am in charge of medical issues and Mr. O'Neill is suffering -"
"From unnecessary annoyance," Jon interrupted while continuing to walk. He noticed the security officer that had first accompanied Dr. Fitz had disappeared.
"And both of us are concerned about base security. We need to talk to the general."
They had arrived at an elevator, and Jon had pushed the button to drop down to the Stargate level while Trisha blocked the doctor's entrance to the elevator.
"We'll be back to the infirmary before you know it," Trisha said as the doors closed.
Jon slumped back against the wall.
"Self-important little prick. Janet was hard as nails, but she actually cared about us - the Fitz is just power tripping."
Trisha chuckled. "He and the staff drove me nuts while I was in the infirmary too. That's part of the reason I was up looking for you when you were … you know, poking around someone's room with Teal'c."
The mention of Teal'c jogged his memory. Teal'c had visited for two days a couple weeks ago, but unfortunately Jon was away. He'd wanted to talk with Teal'c, but he'd missed his opportunity. He swallowed a piece of nervousness.
"Hey, about Teal'c. I've got a question for you."
Trisha cocked her head at him with an odd grin that Jon couldn't quite interpret."
"I might be imagining things, but I'm wondering if you might not be interested in Teal'c. That so?"
"Yeah. He's a great guy."
"He's an alien, you know."
"Really? I would never have guessed," Trisha's smirk was epic.
Jon winced. He hated doing relationship stuff. He sounded like an idiot, but he had to go through with it now. Maybe she would take mercy on him because of his weakened state as she beat him.
"Well, he's Jaffa, and they're different."
"Your powers of observation astound me, Jon."
"Aw, fer cryin' out loud! I mean, he doesn't know all our Earth, you know, stuff."
Trisha's smirk had grown to a large grin.
"No Jon, I'm not sure what you mean. What stuff?"
He rubbed his face. "Like signals. He doesn't know our signals. Like girl signals."
"Girl signals? You're regressing to grade school here, Jon."
"Flirting! All right?! He might not understand your flirting signals! I don't want him and you to get mixed up because of misunderstandings."
Jon despaired as the elevator reached the Stargate's level. It opened, but he hit the close door button. Two technicians looked to object but Jon's glare kept them out.
"Ahh," said Trisha. "Mixed signals. So when I strip naked and start yanking off his clothes, he might misunderstand my intentions. I see."
"Yes! I mean, no ... probably not that. He would get that. I mean, you know, if you, tried to, well before that, um, leading up … you didn't do that, did you? I mean, I, wait." Jon closed his eyes and thumped his head into the wall of the elevator.
"You know what. I … just … forget I said anything."
Trisha's voice was sweet. "Aw, that's all right, Jon. It's nice that you were concerned. It was pretty awkward but we got through it. When I got his pants off, I couldn't speak for a couple minutes, 'cuz you know he is absolutely hu-"
"La la la la la!" Jon covered his ears.
"We really had to work at it hard. Really hard! And thick! And long!" Trisha raised her voice, yelling and laughing.
Jon turned away from her to face the doors and raised his own voice. "Not listening! Not listening! I'm not listening! La la la la la!"
Just then the door again opened. The two technicians stared in shock.
Jon winced as Trisha giggled again. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since his ill-fated elevator ride as they had waited outside the general's office for him to get off a phone call. The captain and two first lieutenants who served as the general's staff continued to give them puzzled looks.
He was sitting with his arms crossed and chin jutted out, trying to ignore Trisha who was sitting next to him. Her laughter still bubbled over in shaky breaths and muffled giggles.
'Stupid women. See if I ever try to help her and Teal'c again. Just trying to help them out.'
Trisha began shaking silently and Jon tightened his crossed arms again.
'Ought to assign her to P3X-whatever with the farting swamps. Server her and her juvenile humor right.'
'Can't see what Teal'c sees in her. Way too crude for his refined tastes.'
He heard the General Richards voice go silent and he jumped up to the door. About time! The man had no business making him wait out here with her while he chatted on the phone.
He ignored the Captain's voice of protest as he knocked. "General Richards, sir?"
A muffled 'come in' was the answer.
"Sir, I have a few details to add from the last mission."
General Richards looked up in irritation to see Jon there and waved his hand. "Captain Timms get in here! Not now, Jon, we've had something else come up. Timms, all gate travel is suspended and we are, as of this moment, on high alert. I'm sending out notes right now," his fingers were rattling over the keyboard.
Richards spoke to Jon as Timms darted back out. "Your friend, Daniel Jackson, was turned into a Prior and has hijacked the Odyssey and taken off with SG1 and General O'Neill. You two need to put base security on high alert."
General Richards sent his message and turned to the door, ignoring Jon and Trisha.
"Robertson! Sound general alert. Prepare all X fighters for immediate launch. Call all department heads for an immediate meeting."
Jon tugged at Trisha's elbow as they left the office, the place had exploded from the quietness of a moment before into a buzzing hive of phone calls and shouts back and forth.
While he was thrilled to hear that Daniel was alive, Daniel as a Prior was worse than being dead in some ways. Taking Earth's main defense with him? At least Jack was there and might be able to save Daniel.
"They'll both be fine, Jon. You'll see." Trisha's hand on his shoulder was a welcome connection.
Jon nodded. "Of course. Can't beat SG1. They'll save Daniel and save the day." He knew his tone didn't match his words.
"I've got to get going," Trisha said as she patted his shoulder again. "Make sure the base is ready if anything happens."
Jon nodded absently as she hurried off. He was supporting Gate missions, and so wasn't involved in the hurry. Yet. His mind returned to his friends.
The rest of SG1 hadn't been mentioned - just Jack. What was Jack doing involved in this? He was supposed to be off the front lines, running things from the Pentagon. Would Sam have been on the ship when it was taken? Teal'c?
He saw Tex run across a hallway intersection ahead of him, on his way to the meeting. Jon shook his head. He couldn't worry. Time to get his head back in the game here and now.
He started running to catch up with Tex, but quickly stopped as his head began swimming with the simple exertion. He leaned against the wall, waiting for his breath to return. Damn it. While he sure as hell didn't need to be confined to a bed, he knew he wasn't up to performing his duty. His head had stopped spinning, but he was exhausted.
"Crap."
He'd leave it in Tex's capable hands to handle the teams. It was mainly just deciding whether to recall them back to base or letting them know they should hunker down where they were.
Heck, while they were working on that, he'd have time to work on figuring out what the Alliance was up to.
He made his way to his room, staying out of the way of the now-swarming personnel that seemed to be running everywhere.
"Ok, Jon, let's start taking notes before you forget stuff."
He stood at his desk and paused - tiredness rolled over him in what seemed to be waves.
Maybe a nap, instead. He made it over to his bed and collapsed.
Jon became conscious that he was just lying in bed and began to roll over, but his muscles screamed their protest and he stopped.
"Wha tu he?"
What had happened? He tried to move again, but once again his muscles completely resisted any movement, screaming in protest.
Why the hell did he hurt so much? He reviewed his memories for clues - zatted, awakened and beaten a bit, waking up in the infirmary, stupid conversation with Trisha, alarm, asleep.
Jon didn't know what was causing this, but decided to muscle through the pain. He hadn't hurt this bad since recovering from Iraq, and the bit of beating he'd gotten from the Alliance goons had been nothing in comparison. Oh well. It was only pain, and he could force himself through pain.
Bracing for it and then forcing his muscles to operate in spite of their screams of protest, he pushed himself to a sitting position.
"Ugh. Something ran over you with a truck, no, make that a goa'uld mothership, Jonny boy. How long did you sleep?"
He carefully turned his head to see the clock on his desk. 1850. Well, he had either slept nine hours, or thirty three hours. He forced himself to stand and stagger over to his computer to check the date. June 30th, still. Ok. Nine hours.
He had to get this pain under control. He couldn't go out barely able to move. He searched through his stash of supplies and grabbed a muscle relaxant and a few pain pills, popping them in and swallowing with a bottle of tepid water. Ok, grab a hot shower, and then hopefully he'd be able to move.
Twenty minutes later, Jon was walking down a hall toward Tex's office. The new director of Stargate missions was now sharing the office with Tex, and Jon had moved out. His more active status of leading missions through the Stargate had essentially removed his need for an office, and Jon was just fine with that.
He stepped into the room to find Tex alone.
"Tex, what's up? What have I missed?"
"Hey there, cowboy. Glad you're up and moving."
Tex didn't look up from his computer.
"No new news from Earth and no action here on Alpha. We pulled back all teams safely. Still sitting at full alert."
Jon nodded and gingerly sat down in his chair with a soft groan.
"How about what happened with the kidnapping attempt?"
Tex shook his head, finally looking up. "General Richards is focused on supporting Earth requests. He pushed the kidnapping attempt off until after the Ori crisis is sorted out. Not much we could do anyway with Gate travel shut down.
"The new base director and I discussed it briefly, but he's of the opinion that further exploration should be slowed if the Alliance is going to continue being a threat. Support existing mining and trade, but no further exploration."
Jon frowned. That was one way to approach it, but … Earth hadn't kicked ass for a decade by hiding.
"Way above our paygrade, Jon. Erick," the new base director who replaced 'Simmons', "is following directions from Leidos and the research contractors. Simmons was very active on trips, but he was a potentially hostile alien and it cost a lot of money, so they decided to cut back trips. Apparently they were going to announce the change in operational methods soon when the latest emergency hit."
"What about the military," Jon objected. "They're the ones ultimately running this, not corporate profits."
Tex gave a sour smile. "You've obviously been really active military your whole life. Direct military action is completely run by the military, sure, but as soon as bases and infrastructure get set up beyond just operational support, contractors start swinging a really big stick. They're here to," Tex cleared his throat and began apparently quoting something, "support this base and continue research into alien technology, not carry out military operations against hostile forces."
Tex shrugged. "They have a point. Alpha site isn't supposed to be doing front-line combat. We're the support and backup site. We're the bug-out site if disaster strikes Earth and a place to do research that they don't want to do on our homeworld. Combat ops and potentially leading hostiles back here isn't what we're supposed to be doing."
"So that's it? We're shutting down Gate operations?" Jon felt vaguely sick at the idea.
"Not completely - we're still running our regular trade routes with established trading partners and our mining operations. But, nothing beyond those. It hasn't been officially stated, but that's what is going to be released as soon as the Ori issue is over."
Jon rolled it over in his mind. He hated these things - it was like fighting Kinsey and the NID - all backroom maneuvers and fights won by meetings.
"But there's still hostiles out there who infiltrated the base. We need to find out who they are, and when the Alliance was holding me, it certainly sounded like they were working for someone else with bigger plans than just a shipment of drugs."
"Definitely write it up in your report, but I don't think it's going to change anything. This has been coming for a while, and I've already brought up the infiltration issue. The general response was that the infiltration was done by factions in the Alliance, and now that we are on the alert they'll have a much harder time inserting someone again."
Jon let his displeasure show. "We never found the real Simmons' body - they were able to get someone in, kill Simmons, and make his body disappear."
"Well, as you know, there was a whole lot of nothin' when it came to clues to what happened. The best guess is goa'uld rings done at night. A cloaked ship, ring someone down to collect DNA while Simmons was away from his room, apply the changes, and then swap people after the changes were completed. It was probably done right at the beginning of Simmons' time here. Same for the others."
Jon hated that explanation, but he couldn't argue with it. It just didn't match with him finding the weapons and equipment on Earth. Why worry about the Alpha site if you already had access to Earth? And if the Alliance had access to Earth …
"Gah!" Jon threw his hands in the air, or started to until the sudden movement sent a quick jerk of pain through the dulling drugs.
"You ok, partner?"
"Yeah. Still a bit sore.
"This sucks, but there's just not anything I can do about it. We didn't get to being one of the more powerful forces in the galaxy by staying cooped up on our own little planet. We need to be out exploring! Learning! Growing!"
"Costs money, though."
Jon grimaced. "If it had just been money considered, we'd still be ignorantly sitting on our own ball of dirt without a clue of the rest of the galaxy. And as soon as a system lord showed up, and one eventually would have, we would be butchered and turned into slaves."
"I … aw, hell. I'm not even gonna play the devil's advocate. I agree Jon, but these decisions are made way, way above our paygrade."
Jon snarled and Tex laughed.
"Don't worry too much, though. Once the Ori are taken care of, I suspect the military will start resuming activity. This is just a lull, Jon, and it's only applying to the offworld bases. The SGC is still going to be active even if we move to a support role."
Jon sighed and nodded. Maybe his tiredness and soreness was affecting his view of the world.
"Ok. I'll punch in my report and see if I can move the needle with it. If not, I guess I can be patient."
"About all we can do for now."
A/N: Yup, Jon's getting a bit down at this point.
