810 Endgame
"We are the origin of all coming evil." Carl Jung
Jack was not happy. The gate was stolen right from under his nose. That was going to be a delightful chat with the Joint Chiefs. Hadn't everyone on the base been vetted? They even had a CIA agent prowling the SGC. But still some lab tech slapped something on the Stargate and poof.
First it had been the rogue NID. They had been dealt with but a few escaped and teamed up with wealthy industrialists eager for off world technology. They used their members who saw themselves as super patriots. They were vigilantes who would stop at nothing to rain havoc on enemies and allies alike, all the while enriching themselves. These were the men who so recently tried to kill Alec Colson. They, with their unlimited riches, corrupted personnel in Area 51 to further their plans.
Now, in Osiris' Al'kesh, they had their hands on the SGC's Stargate, symbiote poison and rockets to deliver it to unsuspecting worlds. The deaths of thousands if not millions of Jaffa, meant nothing to them. Carter boarded the ship and was soon captured. Daniel beamed aboard in order to destroy the ship's cloak so it could be captured by the Prometheus.
When General O'Neill was apprised of the situation both Carter and Daniel's lives were in jeopardy, he had to make a choice, an impossible decision. They were prisoners aboard Osiris' Al'kesh, the Prometheus in pursuit. Should he allow the Prometheus to destroy this ship which also contained a supply of symbiote poison and the method of delivering it? The possible annihilation of a species? He chose the lives of the most brilliant scientist on the planet and the most talented archaeologist and the foremost Goa'uld and Ancients expert. Was it the fact that they were his long time friend, people whom he loved? Was this over the lives of millions? Jack thought about the symbiote poison and thought "the twilight of the gods".
Should he have destroyed the ship when he had the chance? Instead he reclaimed the Stargate and the lives of not only Carter and Daniel but Teal'c too.
He made it seem as though it was an easy choice, it wasn't. He thought of Hammond and all the decisions he had to make. And Jack wondered why the hell he took this job. What if another had made a different decision, could he bear knowing they were dead?
Sam Knew Him
Sam knew him. She could read his body, his posture, his color, his expression, even the way he ate. He didn't eat like a hungry wolf, nor drink like a fish, nor every other word was a profanity.
On a mission going bad he chewed off a chunk protein bar on the fly for fuel or didn't eat at all. When he was preparing for a mission he shoveled in fuel and gulped coffee. At home he ate slowly and leisurely and sipped his drink.
On Earth and civilized planets his hygiene was meticulous. Imprisoned or on the run from enemies being ragged and filthy didn't seem to faze him.
His fashion sense left a lot to be desired but he looked great in his dress uniform.
You could tell when he was angry, well that was usually obvious. But not just the muttering the occasional obscenity. It was when the cursing had gone from the obscene to the profane and then worse - his silence.
He could be funny too. She tried not to laugh and encourage him.
He moved with a lithe grace in the field. He affected a relaxed slouch on the base. When appropriate he could snap to, ramrod straight, the perfect officer.
He was incurious about what obsessed others but knew every detail about new weapon systems.
When bored or irritated he played with anything within reach or drummed his fingers with impatience. When necessary he could remain stock still.
He usually was well tanned, florid when angry and pale when ill.
He cut through the crap as he would say and saw things at their simplest.
He had no time for the pretentious and pompous. He had endless hours for children and dogs. He would sacrifice himself for his friends. She knew he was a good man.
He could affect a perfect blank face, a mask he used often. He rarely smiled but made up for that in smirks. She had seen him confused but wondered how often it was put on for her benefit.
She knew he had loved her. She wasn't sure anymore, wasn't sure it mattered anymore. She had loved him too, she had ached for him... in the past.
She knew him, she thought she knew him, but right now he was confusing the hell out of her. He was smiling, not a smirk. It wasn't sardonic nor ingratiating. It was genuine and rather charming.
He was smiling at the CIA agent, Kerry Johnson.
Kerry Johnson was a self possessed modern woman. She knew who she was and where she was going. She was a woman who knew what she wanted both professionally and personally. Professionally she was quite pleased with the promotion she worked so hard for - the CIA agent stationed in charge of the SGC. Personally, it seemed she wanted the man she has recently come to know. She wanted the General in charge of the SGC, Jack O'Neill. She knew she was playing with fire but a girl didn't get this far in the CIA by being the shy retiring type.
Sam wanted to go home, put her feet up and have a glass of wine. She had spent the majority of the day bound while manics planned the extermination of the Goa'uld and by extension the mass extermination of the Jaffa. If it weren't enemies without, it was enemies within.
Driving home Sam thought too, about what she saw in the General's office. Why would him smiling at another woman annoy her? She couldn't make a list of Pete's attributes if she tried. Comparisons were odious weren't they. So why was she driving so fast and why were her eyes burning.