Notes: Takes place during Ch. 20 of Language of Love, "Change of Command". AKA the New Earth version of "Zero Hour", because of course Jack couldn't have an easy transition even in my AU.
Jack stares at his unshaven face and gray hair in the mirror, wondering when he got so old.
What's a shrub like him doing as General-Governor of the NEDF, anyway? Seems like only yesterday he was a newly-minted second lieutenant, fresh out of the Air Force Academy and eager for his first posting.
That was a very long time ago, and he's accumulated his fair share of scars since then, both physical and mental. Especially in the last eight years or so.
He hates to admit it- even to himself- but maybe this is the right move after all, sit back and let others have the fun out there without him.
Slim arms encircle him from behind, a feminine body pressing delightfully against his back. "Morning."
"Morning. Sleep well?"
"What little I had, anyway. You were awfully enthusiastic last night."
"Well, we did have a long strategizing session, along with celebrating our respective promotions. Not that I recall hearing any complaints in that department," smirking at her reflection in the mirror. Okay, maybe not that old.
Sam snickers as she comes around to his left, her warm lips trailing along his skin and sending shivers through him. Too bad they can't go back to bed so he can reciprocate. "Nervous about today?"
"Who, me? Nah. After facing the worst the universe has to offer, a desk job will be a piece of cake."
"Come on, Jack," she chides, leaning against his arm. "Tell the truth. You're worried, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," he admits with an offhanded shrug. "You know me, I'm a man of action. I'm not cut out to be some micromanager."
"You'll be a better leader than you think. I have faith in you, and so does Hammond."
"Thanks for the pep talk," he quips, then sobers. "No, really. Means a lot to know you two are in my corner."
"We all are, you'll see. Should I get breakfast on now?"
"I dunno. Last time you nearly set the stove on fire and stunk up the place."
She looks indignant. "Hey, I'm doing better at it! Becky and Janet have been giving me lessons."
"Good. Wouldn't want your new General-Governor to die of food poisoning before his first day on the job."
"Oh, hush, you," lightly slapping his arm. "Finish shaving and get dressed. Be in the kitchen by 0730."
"Yes, ma'am," offering a mock salute.
Sam's cooking really has improved, as it turns out. The toast isn't even burned to a crisp this time.
"Damned embarrassing," Jack grumbles to Sam after returning the umpteenth salute in a row, beginning with the first checkpoint on the road to the base.
"Why? It's just protocol, a sign of respect and awareness of your rank. Nothing different than before."
"I know, but…" He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Knew some real jerks back in the day who flaunted promotions or pulled rank just because they could. Never wanted to be one of those guys."
"There were a few around in my time, too," she ruefully notes. "Resented me for daring to be their equal, or even aiming to be better. Hanson was one of them, though I didn't realize it until too late," with an undercurrent of regret in her voice. Years later and the memory of their failed relationship still stings. Jack longs to give her a reassuring hug, but not here in the middle of the SGC compound.
"Sorry. I forgot how much tougher it was for you. We didn't exactly work in the same service, did we?"
"No. But here on New Earth we are doing better, thanks to Hammond. And you." He hears her unspoken addendum, So don't blow it.
The air is brisk and clear for early Spring, the flags for the NEDF and SGC snapping proudly in the breeze. Personnel bustling to and fro, as familiar as any other base he's worked on. Never mind this is an entirely new homeworld they're still in the process of exploring.
He halts suddenly, facing the administration building adjoining the Stargate hangar.
"What's wrong?"
"Just realized this is it. The first day of the rest of my life, as the cliché goes. And you know how I feel about those," he quips to hide his nervousness.
"You can do this," she says softly, her hand catching his for a surreptitious squeeze. "I believe in you."
He swallows the unexpected lump in his throat. "Thanks, Carter."
"You're welcome, sir." She salutes him, all professional now. "See you at the briefing."
He returns it and remains where he is for a few minutes after she leaves, gathering his courage.
For crying out loud, O'Neill, he tells himself. Get a grip already. She's right, you can do this.
The two SFs at the entrance salute and open the door. Harriman greets him on the other side with a steaming mug and a stack of folders. "Morning, sir."
"Walter," breathing in the aroma of fresh-brewed klah before taking a sip. "What've you got?"
"At 0730 this morning SG-8 made scheduled contact from P6J-908. They requested permission to bring an alien life form back to base for further study."
"What kind of alien life form?"
"Just a plant, sir. Dr. Lee's interested in its growth properties."
"Oh. Okay."
"And at 0830 there's debriefing with SG-2, regarding their recent mission to P8F-809. Folder's on your desk, along with personnel files ready for review."
"How many?"
"All of them."
Jack sighs. No sinecure to this job, not even a parking space.
A middle-aged Hispanic woman waits for them in front of the office. She smiles and offers her hand. "General O'Neill? Teresa Esposito, your new administrative assistant."
He's not entirely surprised to see her. Apart from the scientists few civilians worked for the program under the Mountain, due to its top-secret nature. But more from the settlement are around the base these days, as supplemental support staff. "Did I order one?" he innocently asks Harriman.
"No, sir."
"Do I really need-?"
"Yes, sir." A glint of humor behind his glasses.
"I was among the refugees after the Big Quake," she explains. "Before that I was a confidential clerk at NORAD with top-level clearance so I already knew a little about the Stargate Program below stairs, as it were. General Hammond thought my skills might prove useful."
"Ah. In that case, welcome aboard. How about if I give you a tour?"
"Thank you sir, but Sergeant Harriman already did." They share a conspiratorial look.
"Dang." He gestures at the files already piled on on his desk. "Well then, Mrs. Esposito, since you're here why don't you dive into those and-"
"-All due respect, General," she cuts in, "you really need to read those yourself. I'll see to everything else, I'm already briefed on today's agenda. And call me Teresa," deftly taking the empty mug from his hands. He doesn't even remember finishing it.
Harriman steps in. "I'll escort her to her office, sir. Your 0830 is in twenty minutes."
"Right. Thank you, Walter, Teresa. See you both later."
"He's not like other generals," she remarks as they leave.
"Actually, he's not like other people. And we're glad you're here. Really, really glad-" The door shuts behind them.
Jack suspects between the two of them he's going to be handled a lot. Which is probably a good thing.
He casts a look around the room. On the couch cardboard boxes from his previous office wait to be unpacked. The credenza holds a cut-glass decanter with enough scotch left for two drinks, Hammond's parting gift. Better save it for later.
He gingerly sits behind the desk. He's always suspected this is the most comfortable chair on base and he's right.
His chair, now. As of today he's officially General-Governor of the NEDF, in charge of the whole shebang. The Man.
Hammond left behind some sizeable and shiny shoes to fill. Jack only hopes he can do them justice.
The stack of personnel files looks daunting. He sighs and lifts the first one off the top.
Better get to work.
Five hours into Jack's new command and the base hasn't blown up yet. So far, so good.
"Okay," he says brightly as he enters the briefing room at 1300. "I take it you've all met?"
Carter, Daniel and Teal'c- the only ones at the table- share a look. "Yes, actually, we know each other's life stories," Daniel dryly notes.
"Ooh, Danny. Snippiness much?"
"Is that even a word?"
"It is if I say so. I'm General-Governor, after all."
"That's not how it works."
"It isn't?"
"Sir, if we can please get down to business," Carter cuts through their banter, a hint of impatience in her voice. He feels a little guilty for not checking in with her until now but he couldn't get away.
"Right. So what've you got?"
"A Gate address, for a planet formerly in Anubis' domain that Ba'al apparently hasn't discovered yet. We believe it may be home to an abandoned base."
"And chock full of abandoned weapons?"
"That's our hope, sir."
Teal'c hands him a Goa'uld doohickey. "This device was procured from a Jaffa formerly loyal to Anubis. It should allow us access to the base."
Jack pretends to study it. "This guy on the up-and-up, you think?"
"Indeed. He seemed most sincere and cooperative."
"Sounds good to me." He looks over to Teresa, standing quietly against the wall. "When's the next opening?"
She consults her clipboard. "0800 tomorrow, sir."
Carter frowns. "Tomorrow? But I was hoping-"
He turns to her, eyebrows raised. She falters. "Um, well, it's just that the MALP showed no indication of any other Goa'uld activity. It's only a quick recon."
"Carter, I've got fourteen teams out there right now, the mission can wait one more day. Besides, I'd rather you have someone covering your flanks."
"Sir, the chance of requiring backup is very slim-"
"I'm sending SG-3 with you tomorrow."
"We don't need a babysitter-"
"One more day, Colonel," he says sternly.
She stiffens. "Sir."
Jack inwardly winces, knowing he'll get the cold shoulder from her later tonight. He hates doing this but better safe than sorry. He just can't shake the feeling something's gonna happen to them on their first mission without him.
God, who's he trying to kid? Even the ones with him were hardly the usual.
Daniel steps up to support her. "Jack, if the rebel Jaffa are aware of its existence, it's only a matter of time before Ba'al is, too. We really should go today-"
A klaxon begins shrieking, followed by the PA system crackling to life. "Incoming wormhole!"
"Scheduled arrival by SG-5, with representatives from Amora to discuss the pending trade agreement," Teresa says promptly.
"Right. Love to stay and chat campers, but duty calls. Your mission can wait until tomorrow," as Carter opens her mouth. "One more day, hear me?"
"Yes, sir." He watches her leave with shoulders slumped, probably to sulk in her lab. He longs to comfort her in private but figures it might do more harm than good right now. While their feelings for one another are no longer locked in the metaphorical room (thank god), they agreed a while back to keep a professional distance for the good of the outfit, since their relationship's not something to be flaunted on the job either. Doesn't make it any easier to live with, though.
"Walk with me," he says to Daniel and Teal'c. They cross the compound to the Stargate hangar, arriving in time to see two delegates from Amora emerge from the active Gate flanked by SG-5.
At the bottom of the ramp Becky waits to receive them. With encouragement from Daniel, Elizabeth Weir and Fred Begay of SG-9 she's training to be a diplomat along with her other duties, including Domina of Huy-Braesealis. She seems to be thriving in this wacko life.
Major Altman stops for a brief word with her while the rest of SG-5 head to the infirmary for the required post-mission exam. She nods and approaches the Amorans, making what she calls her all-purpose multicultural bow of greeting before escorting the delegation through the side door to one of the smaller conference rooms.
"Elizabeth and Fred are both on Tarraka for the week so Becky's overseeing negotiations," Daniel remarks, looking uneasy. "I'm glad not to be part of it, but she'll be solo for this and-"
"I'm sure she'll do fine, Danny. I'll keep an eye on her," Jack promises.
"Know you will. Thanks." Daniel sighs. "Sam's right, Jack. It's only a simple recon mission, not a full-on exploration. SG-3 doesn't need to go with us."
"C'mon, humor me for once. You guys are going offworld for the first time without me, I just wanna make sure you're okay there and back. Now go cheer up Carter," lightly shoving him in the direction of the labs. He shakes his head but complies.
"I understand your concern, O'Neill," Teal'c says presently. "Yet there is no need for such precautions. I will protect Daniel Jackson and Colonel Carter. From even their own curiosity, if necessary."
"I appreciate it, T. That's good to know."
Behind them Teresa discreetly clears her throat. "General? Dr. Lee's expecting you."
Jack sighs. "Right. Time to check out a plant."
Which is exactly what it is.
"You don't understand, General," Lee says with enthusiasm. "Twenty minutes ago it was just a seed. Look how far it's grown already! And the natives of P6J-908 claim it fulfills all their nutritional needs. This has great potential for us on New Earth."
"It's a plant," peering at it through the magnifier. He can barely wrap his head around the biology here on their new homeworld, much less the other weird stuff. "You and SG-8 double checked it was safe to bring through the Gate, right?"
Lee straightens in indignation, adjusting his glasses. "Sir, if the settlement is going to benefit from what we find out there we have to be able to study it in controlled conditions. Colonel Carter will back me on this, just ask her."
Better not face her chilling wrath right now. "Fine, I'll take your word for it. But it's still just a plant."
"General, I know our mandate is to seek out new weapons and technology to defend the planet from our enemies and aid the continued survival of the settlement, but…wouldn't it also be neat if we found things with beneficial purposes, like curing disease or averting the specter of famine? Not only for ourselves but also others in the galaxy who need our help." A staunch believer in Becky's Stargate Commonwealth proposal, his eyes are bright with the possibilities.
Jack's stomach gurgles and he checks his watch, well past time for lunch. Speaking of averting famine…
"Alright. Keep me informed."
Three hours later he seeks the sanctuary of his office, after enduring a deluge of impromptu requests and progress reports from scientific and military personnel alike.
It's enough to make him wonder if this is Carter's way of getting back at him. She has a wicked sense of humor after all, though her method of revenge tends to be more subtle. More...nuclear.
At least he'll get some peace and quiet for a while.
He originally planned on stretching out on the comfy-looking couch and catching a few z's, but someone's already sleeping on said couch.
He turns on a lamp. "Hey, kiddo. No place in the lab to take a nap, huh?"
Becky stirs, turns over to blink at him. "Huh? Oh, sorry. No one was here, and I needed someplace quiet for a bit of a think, as Dad used to call it. Guess I fell asleep."
"No problem." He contemplates the decanter on the credenza. Nah, not time for a drink yet. "How's it going with the Amorans?"
She sits up and yawns, retrieving her glasses. "It isn't, really. The conflict between the mountain folk and the plains folk has gone on for so many generations they've forgotten the reason why they're fighting at all. Both are so entrenched in their ways it's hard to find any common ground. They can't agree with each other, never mind our proposals. Like bickering children, talking over each other so loudly I could barely get a word in edgewise."
"It's early yet. Bound to be setbacks."
"I know, but it's just so frustrating. I'm not making any headway, and I really want to prove I can be an effective mediator on my own. I don't want to let anyone down, least of all you." She grimaces and rubs at her temples. "To top it all off I've had a doozy of a headache lately. Worrying about this is only making it worse."
"So see the infirmary for a remedy and don't worry about the Amorans."
"Easier said than done." Very dry.
"Yeah." He joins her on the couch, patting her shoulder. "You could never let me down, Beck. I have faith you'll find a way to make them listen, and so does Danny and the others. Even if it means you have to channel your mom to do it."
"Mom-" Her eyes widen. "Of course! Uncle Jack, you're a genius. Thanks a lot!" Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and dashing out of the office.
"Any time," he replies to empty air.
His radio chirps for attention. So much for taking a nap.
"O'Neill."
Sam didn't come home until much later, after he was already in bed. Changing and getting under the covers without saying a word, turning her back to him.
Yeah, she's still pretty ticked off.
He sighs and stares up at the ceiling, composing a mental note to Hammond.
Dear George, Wish you were in my shoes, and I was not...
The next morning Jack seeks out the refectory for breakfast (still the silent treatment from Sam, leaving early ostensibly to do mission prep), and is immediately ambushed by Captain Corrigan in charge of provisioning and Sergeant White as head of catering.
"It's the potatoes, sir," White says, brandishing a mealy-looking tuber. "The Old Earth varieties from the experimental farms are attracting insects in a big way. By the time we get them they've been rendered unfit for human consumption. I've already sent samples to Ag and Bio divisions to see if they can come up with a nontoxic deterrent."
"Good thinking. Feed the rest to those pig-like creatures we got penned in the waste-reclamation section, they'll eat anything. How's the rest of the intake from the farms?"
"Pretty good, sir," Corrigan says. "Other vegetables okay, lots of fruit coming into season now."
"I'll confirm with Dr. Fraiser when she returns from offworld day after tomorrow about meeting the nutritional requirements but for now I'll work on a replacement menu until the tuber crop improves," White adds.
"Double up on breads and pasta as the carb component," Jack suggests. "And cake for dessert."
White and Corrigan both hide a smile, already aware of his notorious sweet tooth. "Of course, General."
"Sounds like you've got it under control. Now if there's nothing else I'd like to have breakfast."
With loaded tray he hunts for an isolated table, coming across Becky slumped in a corner. "Hey, this seat taken?"
She startles, blinking up at him. "Huh? Oh. Morning."
"Morning," setting his tray opposite her. "So, how am I a genius?"
"What? Oh, that. I was reminded of the times Mom gave Chris and me time-out when we were fighting too much as kids. So I suggested the Amorans take a break and showed them to the VIP quarters. Then I told them point-blank to knock twice when they're ready to talk like adults and locked the door behind me before they could escape. I also ordered a couple marines in your name to stand guard and let no one out until they do, and another to leave food trays and beverage service just inside the door. I hope you don't mind."
He chuckles. "I knew you'd come up with something. I'll back you up if anyone raises a fuss. So are they ready to talk now?"
"Well, so far they haven't killed each other yet."
"That's progress."
"Not really. The Amorans are furious. The likelihood of a trade agreement keeps diminishing every hour, while the threat of open civil war is on the rise instead." She stares morosely into her cooling mug of klah. "I couldn't even bring myself to tell Daniel the truth last night, it's embarrassing I had to resort to such a crude tactic. So much for what Elizabeth calls 'the subtle art of diplomacy'."
"Don't worry about Danny. He's got mission prep on his mind anyway. You're doing just fine."
She sighs, unconvinced. "Maybe I should just forget it and send them back home."
"Nah, give it another day. They'll come round, you'll see. Just keep 'em fed. We got lots of fruit."
Her brow furrows. "Fruit?"
"Potato crisis. Never mind."
His radio chirps a few minutes later. "General O'Neill, it's Teresa. SG-1 and 3 are in the Gateroom preparing to embark."
"On my way." He drops the fork onto his plate, gulping down his klah instead. So much for a leisurely breakfast.
"I'll come with," Becky offers. "I should see Daniel and the others off, anyway."
"Glad for your company," wiping his mouth with a napkin. His radio chirps again. "Now what?"
"General, it's Dr. Lee. I need to see you concerning the plant from P6J-908."
Jack sighs. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. "Be there in ten minutes."
"Never a dull moment, huh?" Becky dryly quips.
"Keeps me on my toes. Let's go, kiddo."
Chevrons are locking in sequence as he and Becky enter the Gateroom. "Good morning, people."
Reynolds and his team salute. "General."
"Sir," Carter says stiffly.
Behind her Daniel shrugs, as if saying I tried my best. Teal'c wisely says nothing.
"Sure wish I was going with you kids," trying to lighten the mood. "But I got a big day planned. You know how it is."
A faint smile touches her lips despite herself. "Have fun, sir. See you soon."
The wormhole engages with the usual sound and fury, the Gateroom washed in blue-white light.
"SG-1, SG-3, you have a go," Jack says. "Watch your backs."
Reynolds nods acknowledgement, his team taking point up the ramp.
Becky and Danny touch hands, exchange soft words. He kisses her cheek before falling in behind Carter.
Teal'c nods to Jack. "O'Neill."
"Mind the curfew, T. Have their six at all times."
He smiles slightly. "Indeed."
Jack watches his former teammates disappear, feeling a pain of nostalgia for the good old days.
Dear George, Ever wished you were taking a jaunt with us through the ol' orifice instead of being stuck behind a desk Earthside? I know I do.
The plant reminds Jack of the monster from Little Shop of Horrors.
All kidding aside, he's never seen anything grow this fast before, not that he has much of a green thumb. Almost completely covering the lab, draping over computer banks, swallowing up equipment, even tendrils venturing into the hallway.
Siler and two Botany techs hack at it with machetes. Don't seem to be making a dent, though.
Too bad Mac's offworld with Janet on a humanitarian mission, Jack muses. He'd probably suggest a blowtorch or something, then improvise an alien weed-killer from chemicals around the lab.
Lee emerges through a canopy of leaves, unaccountably cheerful. "Well General, the good news is it hasn't eaten anybody yet."
"Gee thanks, Seymour," plucking off a tendril hanging over his shoulder and protruding into one of his BDU pockets. "Sure you haven't been feeding it blood lately?"
The scientist beams at him. "It's clear we underestimated its potential for growth. Seems to respond dramatically to any kind of visible light."
"Will it stop if they go out?" He looks for the nearest switch, only to find it covered under more of the plant.
"I already thought of that. I just thought you might like to see it."
"Okay, I've seen it. Now get rid of it." He backs out of the room, trying not to trip over exposed roots digging into the floorboards.
"Don't worry, General. We'll have it under control real soon."
"You better." He's beginning to regret letting Lee and SG-8 bring the damn thing onto the base in the first place.
Jack's sitting at his desk shuffling through personnel files when Teresa knocks on the door.
"General? Colonel Reynolds is dialing in from P2X-887. He's lost contact with SG-1."
Damn, he knew this was gonna happen. "On my way."
"One Al'kesh," Reynolds says over the MALP's video link. "It buzzed the Gate and flew off. No sign of the enemy since then, sir. I've also been unable to make radio contact with SG-1 going on nineteen minutes. Requesting backup and permission to begin searching."
"Tell SG-10 and 12 to suit up," he orders Teresa over his shoulder. She nods and tuns away, already on the radio. "Backup's on the way, Colonel."
"Thank you, sir. Reynolds out." He cuts the transmission and the Gate shuts off.
"Redialing P2X-887," Walter says promptly without being asked. Even he knows the SGC leaves no one behind.
By the time the wormhole's reengaged Boyd's and Barrett's teams are assembled in front of the Gate, ready for action. All of them face the control area and salute.
Jack returns it. "You have a go, SG-10 and 12. Reynolds is waiting for you on the other side. Good luck."
Both teams are quickly swallowed up by the blue-white shimmer.
Jack leans heavily against the console. While he'd love to go back to his office and nap he has a feeling things are just getting started.
One of his former COs had a saying, I'll rest when I'm dead. And he did, from a heart attack right before retirement. Jack took that lesson to heart, making time for play (okay, mostly fishing) as well as work.
He has to relearn it all over again now, find a new balance.
"Okay Teresa, what's next?"
Next day SG-3, 10 and 12 are still searching for SG-1, the Amorans still aren't talking to each other and that damn plant's still getting bigger.
Ten times its size in fourteen hours, according to a fascinated Lee. Double that and it's taken over a third of the lab building, emerging triumphantly through windows and ventilation grills. Maybe he's seeing things but it seems to be growing even faster than before, once it hits the sunlight.
However valued by the locals of P6J-908, to Jack it's the alien kudzu from hell. Early in his career he was stationed for a month at Robins AFB in Georgia, and he remembers the drastic measures crews on base used to keep the incredibly invasive plant from encroaching onto the airfields.
Hands on hips, he glares at it from his vantage point in the compound, well away from the building. "You promised it'd be under control by now," he grumbles to Lee.
"Sorry, General. It's proving more difficult to eradicate here than I originally thought. But I have a theory for this more explosive growth."
"Let's hear it."
"The sun of P6J-908 has a lower UV rating than ours and the planet has fewer hours in its rotation. Also the sky's overcast for much of the growing season according to the locals. So the plant grew correspondingly slower. But now that it's had a taste of our sun and longer hours of daylight it's responding in exponential fashion. By my estimate within another day it may cover not only the base but also make inroads on the settlement, perhaps eventually all of Settlement Valley."
Jack groans, passing a hand over his face. Definitely the alien kudzu from hell. "Tell me you got a plan."
"We'll have to wait until tonight before it can be implemented. Meteorology says there's only one moon visible, plus it's new. Tomorrow's colder and overcast as well, so that might give us some wriggle room. We'd have to keep artificial light on the base and the settlement to a minimum overnight, though."
"Fine, I'll put out the order to go dark. Anything else?"
"Yes, sir." Lee takes off his glasses, wiping them with a handkerchief. A stalling tactic Jack's familiar with thanks to Daniel. "But you're not gonna like it."
"I don't already. Spit it out, doc."
An airman passing by sneezes, several times. "Sorry, sir," he mumbles, pulling out a handkerchief and blowing his nose.
"We think it's already sending out airborne spores," Lee confirms after the fact.
Oh, peachy. "I'll have marines inspect every nook and cranny of the base in case anything takes root. And see if the pharmacy folks at the hospital figured out a natural replacement antihistamine yet, I know Daniel's been pushing for one. Keep me posted."
Dear George, I would love to know your secret for staying calm through all the wacko things that have happened since the program started…
Hours later the Gate discharges SG-3, 10 and 12. They step slowly off the ramp, disappointment evident in their slumped shoulders.
"We looked everywhere, sir," Reynolds says with a weary salute. "No sign of SG-1. I'm sorry, General."
"You were supposed to watch their backs, Colonel," Jack says sternly.
"Yes, sir. All due respect, but Colonel Carter insisted we secure the Gate. I should've countermanded her order but she was so confident it didn't feel right to undermine her in front of the others." The guilt is plain in his eyes.
Jack relents a little. "Understood. It's not your fault. Get everyone to the infirmary then hit the showers. Debrief can wait until tomorrow."
"Thank you, sir."
The alarm klaxon sounds. "Unauthorized incoming wormhole," Walter announces.
Jack looks over at him, eyebrows raised. "Anyone we know?"
"No IDC yet, sir."
In a flash of light a tall, dark-haired and bearded man appears in front of the ramp, dressed in showy black and gold robes. His very posture radiating the commanding arrogance typical of a Goa'uld.
Great, just what they need right now. If the Asgard, Tok'ra and Nox show up, they'd have the complete set.
The SFs and SG teams raise their weapons. He waves them to stand down, recognizing one of those holograms like Anubis projected. "Alright, who are you and whaddya want? Be quick, I don't like unsolicited callers hogging up my line."
"I am Ba'al," in the equally typical doubled voice. "I have your friends."
So this is the snake who's been making the other System Lords nervous by gobbling up Anubis' former territory. A potential thorn in their own side as well.
Jack's not going to lose his cool in the face of his worst nightmare coming true. He just won't.
He deliberately stuffs his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance. "And…?"
"I propose an exchange."
"For what?"
"Not what, whom. Camulus is on your planet."
"Never heard of him."
"I know he is seeking asylum with you. You will send him to me if you wish to see your friends again. I will transmit the Gate address."
"Mmm, let me think about it."
"You have one day."
"Is that like one New Earth day, or what? We tacked on four extra hours, I still can't get my watch right-"
But Ba'al's already gone.
Jack rubs at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. When it rains it pours, as the cliché goes.
"These all you got?" Jack sits forward in his chair, scanning the list of possible planets suggested by Reynolds for the exchange.
"Yes, sir. Are you really considering turning Camulus over to Ba'al?"
"It's on the table."
The Celtic God of War according to Daniel, ruler of a minor stellar domain. He showed up with other System Lords not long after the Battle of Gateway, to sign a nonaggression pact with New Earth and hopefully discover how Anubis and his forces had been destroyed in just one day when their own combined fleets couldn't do the job.
Not that they succeeded. Huy-Braesealis and the identity of its Domina are being kept in strictest confidence from everyone offworld save for the Asgard, though Becky had assisted Elizabeth with the negotiations. Hidden in plain sight, as it were.
Just before the System Lords were scheduled to depart he'd held back, claiming his domain had been among the first conquered by Ba'al, his entire fleet devastated. Elizabeth managed to convince Hammond he might be a useful source of information, but since they can't turn him loose in the settlement (a fox in the hen house, as Harry would've said), he's been staying in a secure corner of the base, part guest and part prisoner. He feeds them tidbits every now and then, always carefully vetted by the very shrewd Major Weiss as head of intelligence and his offworld network of informants.
Though the intel's been useful Jack remains skeptical. He'd never trust a snake as far as he can throw 'em. Even the Tok'ra for all they're allies possess a certain ruthlessness mixed in with their altruism that strikes him as downright squirrelly, though he is fond of Jacob and Selmak.
If they send Camulus to the address Ba'al transmitted there's no guarantee he'll hold up his end of the bargain. But they can't risk opening the iris to let SG-1 through directly to New Earth, either.
As if that weren't enough there's no confirmation yet that Ba'al actually has them, though it can't be ruled out either. This could easily be a trick for his Jaffa to gain a foothold on New Earth.
Thing is, they're running out of time. Jack has to take the snake at his word but damn, he wishes there were another way.
Dear George, What do you do when stuck between a rock and a hard place? How do you weigh the greater good against the lives of those you hold dear?
Outside the office Teresa says, "Dr. Grahme, General O'Neill's in a conference. You can't just barge in-"
"Let her," he calls out. Might be good to have a sounding board.
Becky storms into the room, not a happy camper at all. "Dammit! Tell me you're not giving up on SG-1." Yep, word travels fast.
Reynolds' eyes dart between her and Jack, clearly desiring to be elsewhere. "Permission to get my team ready, sir?" Jack nods and he hastily leaves.
She's still staring daggers at him, holding on so tightly to the back of the chair her knuckles have gone white. "Well?"
"Beck, have a seat before you tear the back of it off," he says calmly. "We can't exactly send out for replacements, ya know."
She looks down in surprise and relaxes her grip, a flush tinting her cheeks. "Sorry. It's just that I heard Ba'al is holding them for ransom and..." A helpless shrug.
"It's okay, I get it. I'm not giving up on them, not ever. You know that."
She sighs and leans forward in the chair, resting her hands on her knees. "Yeah. You think they're okay?"
"Sure. Sam and Danny are as tough as they come behind their genius brains. And Teal'c would give his life for theirs any day of the week."
"I hope you're right. Only I have a gut feeling Ba'al has no intention of letting them go."
"You and me both," he admits. Her intuition has always been reliable.
"I know you guys have taken some big risks before as a team, and always found a way to succeed despite the odds. But this feels different somehow. I don't think I've ever feared so much for Daniel's safety-" She swallows, tears sliding down her cheek.
He takes in the lines of tension on her face, the glimmer of tears behind her glasses. She's already worried about making the Amoran agreement work out, this is just adding to the stress.
Jack can relate. He can't deny the thought of what SG-1 might be suffering at the hands of that snake bothers him to no end. Yet dwelling on it does no good either. He has to stay focused on what's in front of him, even as it feels like he's trying to keep several plates spinning in the air at the same time.
"Hey-" He gets up and comes over to her, gently brushing away tears with a finger. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll find a way to get them home, you'll see. We just gotta hold on and stay positive."
She takes his hand. "Promise?"
"Promise. Would I lie to my favorite niece?" with a mock-innocent expression.
A faint smile curves her lips. "Guess not."
In the doorway Teresa discreetly clears her throat. "Sir, Base Security has Camulus in one of their interrogation rooms."
"Tell them I'll be right over." In a softer voice to Becky, "Feeling better now?"
"Yeah. Sorry for snapping at you earlier."
"Forgiven and forgotten," patting her shoulder. "Now go wash up and meet me over at Base Security. I'll need your negotiation expertise for dealing with that snake."
"Yes, sir."
And here I thought you had the easier job, George. Next time over drinks I'll apologize profusely.
Camulus exudes a haughty demeanor, even in gray coveralls and two SFs standing guard behind him. Guess it comes with the symbiote.
"I got no time for games so I'll tell it to ya straight," Jack says. "Ba'al has three of my people. He's offered to trade them for you. Any idea why?"
"There are many possible reasons."
"Any come to mind specifically?"
Camulus says nothing in reply.
"You offered to help if we granted you asylum. We've held up our end of the bargain so c'mon, give me something."
"I did not expect to be treated like a prisoner."
"We don't exactly have any palaces available. Plus you're a Goa'uld. Do the math."
"What to you intend to do with me?"
"I dunno yet. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just turn you over and call it a day."
"Ba'al cannot be trusted. No matter what you do he will never return your friends to you."
"I kinda figured. Anything else you care to share with me right now?" When Camulus remains silent Jack gestures to the SFs. "Then I guess that's that. Take him to the Gateroom."
Becky joins him in the hallway from the room on the other side of the observation window. "Not much of an interrogation," she dryly observes to Jack.
"He didn't have the right answers."
"He knows more than he's telling, that's for certain."
"Yeah. Which is why I'm revoking his request for asylum."
She frowns in the direction of Camulus and his escorts. "Your prerogative, I guess. You may be sacrificing him for nothing, though."
"If it gets my team back I don't care. C'mon."
The Gate's already active. Before going to Base Security Jack had ordered it dialed to the address Ba'al provided. He's never been more grateful the wormhole's only one way.
More SFs join them as they enter, weapons at the ready. Becky hangs back with Harriman in the control area, trading uneasy glances.
Jack grabs Camulus by the arm. "Let's take a walk, you and me." Leading him up the ramp, right to the event horizon. "I've done everything I can. So help us, or take your chances with Ba'al's Jaffa on the other side. It's up to you."
"I am not a coward, in spite of what you think."
"Oh, I think you are. You Goa'uld have a thing about appearances, that's why requesting asylum with us seemed a marginally better alternative than shame and torture. Which is what you'll be facing if you step through, ya know. So what's it gonna be?"
Camulus says nothing, only sets his jaw and faces the event horizon.
Jack rolls his eyes. "Fine. Take him back to his cell, guys," grabbing his arm and leading him down the ramp to the waiting SFs.
Becky comes over to Jack, brow furrowed. "You were bluffing?"
He shrugs. "Worth a try. Should give him something to ponder, anyway."
"Hell of a gamble all the same."
"I've done worse on poker nights."
Her lips twitch. "True."
One of the SFs jogs up to them. "General? Camulus wants a word with you."
He smiles and winks at Becky. "See? Your ol' uncle's still got it. This oughta be good."
Turns out Camulus is more than ready to cooperate, now that he's seen the light. "It is not safe for you to harbor me anymore. If Ba'al is truly so determined to have revenge he will not stop. I am willing to leave."
Jack leans back in his chair, arms folded. "Just like that? Without even a thank-you for our hospitality?"
"When I requested asylum I did not expect to rot in a cell for the rest of my life."
"So work with me here, give me something. If it's good we'll send you someplace where you can live in obscurity as a farmer."
"I can tell you of a planet where there is a device created by the Ancients."
"What kind of device?"
"I never could uncover its secrets. Perhaps you can."
"You think this is what Ba'al's really after?"
"I believe so. While I never disclosed its location I once bragged to him of its discovery at a meeting of the System Lords."
"Hard to believe. Your kind never brag about anything." Camulus only looks puzzled. They don't understand sarcasm either. "Hand over the address then sit tight, we'll get back to you."
In the hallway Jack makes three radio calls- Harriman to dial the planet, Reynolds and SG-3 to go there, and Becky to accompany them for her sensitivity to Ancient tech.
Couldn't hurt to check it out, right?
The PA crackles to life. "Unscheduled offworld activation."
Turns out to be SG-3 and Becky, back from the address Camulus gave them. "Just like you said, sir," Reynolds says. "Some sort of Ancient device, the size of a large room."
"Any notion what it does?"
Becky shrugs. "Not a clue, McKay and his Ancient tech specialists on Alpha can figure it out. I know why I couldn't make it work, though." She nods to Reynolds who opens the case he's holding, revealing a ZPM. "The power wasn't hooked up."
"We found this on the floor," Reynolds adds.
Jack frowns. "So why didn't you just leave it there? We got plenty of our own, thanks to Huy-Braesealis."
"But we don't want that fact advertised to the galaxy at large, do we?" Becky counters. "Besides, I have a feeling Camulus meant for us to find it."
"Good feeling or bad?"
"Uncertain." She sneezes, twice. Reynolds helpfully offers her his handkerchief.
"That reminds me, the base is going dark tonight to give Lee a crack at getting rid of the alien kudzu," Jack remarks.
"Oh, good," wiping at her dripping nose. "Jeez, my allergies haven't been this bad in a long time. Good thing Daniel's not here-" then falters. "Um, that is…"
He pats her on the shoulder. "Know what you mean. Good job on the recon, campers. I'll see if Lee can tear himself away from the damn plant to check out the ZPM."
"Gamma radiation!" Lee says triumphantly. "That seems to do the trick. We're preparing a method of delivering a strong enough level to the entire base all at once tonight. Non-essential personnel need to be evacuated, everyone else will have to wear protective suits."
"So no one can turn into the Hulk, huh? Dang it, we could sure use someone with his kinda strength to move heavy stuff around."
"That only happens in fiction, General. But I can guarantee it won't reach the settlement. We'll start making preparations just after sunset. Which is in, ah," checking his watch, "four hours from now."
"Got it, I'll give folks a heads-up in three. Wouldn't want to spoil their dinner." His radio chirps for attention. "O'Neill."
"Gateroom here, General," Harriman says. "The dialing computer's gone offline."
Oh, for crying out loud. "On my way."
"Must be a circuit board that got fried during the last Gate diagnostic, sir," Siler says to Jack from under the console he's working on.
"Incoming wormholes will connect," Harriman asserts, "and we can still receive radio communication and IDCs, but-"
"Let me guess. The iris?"
"Manual control only. Takes longer to operate that way."
"What about turning the inner ring by hand to dial? Or even using the DHD over there?" gesturing to the long-unused device to the left of the Gate.
Siler pulls away from the console and sits up. "Um, that's a problem. The inner ring seems to be locked in place. We tried disconnecting the control interface, but it didn't work."
"Huh. Too bad Carter's not here. She could have it fixed like that," snapping his fingers.
Siler looks a little put out.
Jack winces, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, Sergeant. No offense. Been a long couple of days, guess I'm more tired than I thought."
"Uh, none taken, sir. I think we've got a replacement board in stores, I'll go get it."
Siler scoots away. Jack sighs and leans against the console next to Harriman. "So, bottom line?"
"We can't dial out."
"Alright, keep me informed. Don't forget to tell the evening and swing shifts to wear their protective suits."
Just peachy. His flagship team in the hands of the enemy. They can't dial the Stargate. The base is being overrun by the alien kudzu from hell. It's enough to make him wonder if any passing Ascended are doing this just to torture him.
Dear George, Resigning the General-Governorship sounds better and better to me all the time. Only I wish someone else was as qualified to do the job...
Camulus is sure in a hurry to leave the planet for some reason.
"You found something of value on the planet of which I spoke, did you not?" he asks urgently.
"We did," Jack says.
"Then why have you not released me? Or do you still believe you can trade me to Ba'al for your friends?"
"We're experiencing technical difficulties right now. No dial tone."
The consternation on the snake's face is hilarious, if Jack can only figure out why.
"Sure I shouldn't stay to babysit the Amorans?" Becky asks him at dinner. "The time-out's working. Last I heard they're finally speaking to each other again."
"I wouldn't worry about them if I were you, they were issued protective suits same as everyone else. What I'm more concerned with is you and your allergies," reaching over the table to playfully tap her nose. "So go on home, relax. I'll see ya in the morning."
His radio chirps. "General, there's an incoming wormhole. Ba'al wants to talk."
Terrific. Must've meant his kind of day, not New Earth's.
"...I'm sure the General will be here any minute," Harriman's saying smoothly.
Jack deliberately slows his walk, hiding a smile. Good man.
"Sorry I'm late, I was just finishing a lovely dinner."
"Impudence."
"No, fish. At least I think it was. Ya know, we come across so many varieties we haven't seen before it's hard to keep track sometimes-"
Becky stifles a laugh with her hand. Ba'al's eyes flick to her, lingering a bit.
"Hey, eyes over here," Jack complains. "Whaddya want now?"
"The deadline has passed."
"Yeah, well, we're having some technical difficulties here."
"Are the lives of your friends so meaningless to you?"
"It's not a stall tactic, I'm serious. I would've called you sooner but we can't dial out at the moment."
"Why not?"
He gives an elaborate shrug. "No idea. It'll take a Carter to figure it out. But she's not here so you can send her over anytime. You'll have ol' Cammy back in your grubby Goa'uld hands before you can say zat'nik'tel."
Ba'al does not look amused. "You dare mock me?"
"It's what I do. So how about it- we get SG-1 back and you get Camulus. Deal?"
"You have one more day." The image disappears.
"Is it really wise to provoke him like that?" Becky wonders.
Jack winks at her. "It's what I do."
A pulse of gamma radiation in the dark of night is enough to render the plant completely inert. Even so it'll take the next day to root out every last leaf and tendril remaining around the base and make sure they're charred to ashes.
Lee feels confident the foothold-by-vegetation is over but just in case Jack orders scans of the valley every day for a month or so, to make sure any stray spores haven't spread elsewhere.
At least Siler managed to fix the console so they can dial out again. That's something.
Jack decides to spend the night in the office, crashing on the couch. Home feels very empty when Sam's not there, her energy and enthusiasm filling up the place.
God, he misses her.
"General?" Teresa's hand on his shoulder shakes him out of a sound sleep. "You need to wake up. Dr. Lee's discovered something unusual about the ZPM retrieved by SG-3."
He sits up, groaning and rubbing his head. "Like what?"
"It's glowing."
"It's not usually supposed to, except when plugged into a console and working," Lee remarks. "And a warmer yellow too, not this color." It is a rather alarming shade of blue-violet.
"Not a good thing, huh?"
"No, sir. Funny how it happened, really."
"I like funny. Lay it on me."
"This isn't the good kind of funny, General. I think it was the gamma radiation we used to kill the plant that made it glow this way. It illuminated a molecular substance foreign to the normal crystalline make-up of a ZPM. When we managed to scrape some microscopic fragments from the casing and run some tests it, uh…well. You'll see."
"See what?"
"Put these on first," handing him a pair of infra-red goggles identical to his own. Lee closes the lenses down on his, motioning at Jack to do the same. He then moves over to a bank of computers where a metal tray holding a small sample of the ZPM's casing rests on a steel table. "This is what happens when you introduce a constant electric charge."
He flicks a switch on the computer. The tray explodes in a bright flash of light and fire. A tech on the other side of the room hurries over with an extinguisher.
Jack raises his goggles, blinking in amazement. "Huh. So it's booby-trapped?"
Lee nods, a little stricken. "I can't believe I was going to ask Dr. Grahme to take it with her next time she visits Huy-Braesealis. I mean, imagine the magnitude of the explosion if she'd installed it there. Why, it might destroy not only the city but also the entire planet!"
Jack suppresses a shudder, wishing he couldn't. Good thing Becky's not here to see this. But it does explain why Camulus was so eager to leave.
"Can you undo it?"
"Um, we haven't actually considered it yet-"
"Yes or no, doc?" he demands.
Lee sadly shakes his head. "I'm afraid not, sir."
That does it. Time for another chat with Camulus.
But first breakfast, then the locker room for a shower and change of BDUs. A little more agitation on Camulus' part serves him right, so Jack takes his time.
Freshly clean and shaved, he closes his locker and stares at the ones next door, for Danny and Teal'c.
If anything happens to SG-1 he'll rain hell and damnation on Camulus and Ba'al both for toying with the lives of his friends, not to mention potentially endangering his niece and everyone else on New Earth.
This is why he'll never trust the Goa'uld.
The smell of burning vegetation is strong as he crosses the compound on his way to Base Security.
Becky's heading the opposite way towards the Gate hangar with the Amoran delegates, who are actually smiling and laughing instead of bickering.
"The negotiations went well, I take it?"
She grins. "Oh, yeah. Even bringing back agreements for their leaders to sign. After getting over their anger they realized they had a lot more in common than previously remembered. The time out worked, though it's not a strategy I'd care to use in future negotiations."
"And here I thought it was the fruit basket I sent over. Good job, Beck. Take the rest of the day off on me, you earned it."
"Seriously? But what about," lowering her voice so the Amorans wouldn't hear, "Ba'al, Camulus and the booby-trapped ZPM? Lee told me about it at breakfast."
"Don't worry, I got a plan. I'll call you when SG-1 comes back." That's when, not if. He has to stay positive, for her sake as well as his own.
She still looks dubious. "You're sure I shouldn't stick around?"
"You betcha," smiling and waving to the Amoran looking their way. "See these guys off, then finish up your report for Danny and Elizabeth and skedaddle on outta here. That's an order."
Her lips twitch despite her concern. "Yes sir, Uncle General-Governor."
Best to keep her away from any potential action coming up, and further scrutiny by Ba'al.
He did not like the look the snake was giving his niece, no indeed. Sent chills down his spine.
"I have no idea what you are taking about," Camulus insists.
"Sure ya do. When you couldn't figure out what the Ancient device was for, you tampered with the power source so nobody else could."
"I did nothing of the kind."
"Oh, give up the innocent act, Cammy. Good thing we caught on to your trick before the base blew up. Not a nice way to thank us for our hospitality."
The Goa'uld's lips curve in a faint mocking smile. "I suppose it was worth a try. You Tau'ri are resourceful, if nothing else."
Or just plain lucky, thanks to that damn plant. "We have our moments. Now that's out of the way let's get down to brass tacks. How would you like a chance to kill Ba'al?"
"In exchange, I surmise you want me to use the Ancient device to trade for the lives of your friends."
"Exactly. You get to leave, and I get my people back. He'll be dead, and we'll be glad. So we have a deal?"
Camulus ponders for a few moments. "I admit the notion is amusing. We have a deal, General."
The Gateroom is full of SFs for his departure. Lee and his techs are also standing by in case the snake has another nasty surprise up his sleeve. No one is taking any chances.
Reynolds and SG-3 are waiting with Camulus at the bottom of the ramp. The Goa'uld is back in the garb he arrived in, gathering the remnants of his dignity.
Jack has no idea if he'll hold up his side of the bargain, nor his fate if he fails to kill Ba'al. And, frankly, doesn't care.
He places a case flat in Reynolds' hands, opens it to show Camulus the ZPM. "All right, here it is. Satisfied?"
"Yes, General. Must I be accompanied?"
"I just wanna make sure Ba'al plays fair with the exchange," says Jack. "Right, Colonel?"
"Yes, sir. We're meeting on a neutral planet as agreed, then waiting for SG-1 to show up."
"So see ya, Cammy," tossing him a mock-salute. "It's been real."
Camulus says nothing in reply, only turns and walks straight into the event horizon. SG-3 follows right behind.
Since nothing else can be done Jack summons SG-8, Lee and the entire Botany section into his office, chewing them out something awful for not investigating the plant thoroughly enough before bringing it on base without the proper quarantine measures first.
He pointedly leaves a window open so everyone can hear his tirade, clear across the compound.
Thus endeth the lesson, as Sean Connery said in The Untouchables last movie night. They won't be making that mistake again.
Much later Harriman announces the reception of SG-3's IDC.
"Open the iris," Jack orders.
SG-3 exits the wormhole. Alone.
"You're late, Reynolds."
"Ba'al never showed up, sir. We waited an extra hour in case he dragged his heels producing SG-1, then had to let Camulus go anyway with the ZPM. We knew it was a long shot."
"Thanks anyway for going the extra mile, Colonel. Dismissed."
Hands in pockets, Jack stares into the empty circle, hoping he did the right thing.
Dear George, When do you stop wondering if you just made a huge boneheaded mistake?
Had he known what it was really like to be The Man, he would've tried to be less of a pain in the butt for Hammond. Or at least would've tried harder.
Jack's still plowing through the personnel evaluations. A less-than-welcome distraction, but nothing else is working. He even had no appetite for cake after dinner, which alarmed Sergeant White.
Teresa knocks on the door, then pokes her head in. "General, Colonel Reynolds would like a word with you."
"Fine. Send him in."
"Um, he's in the Gateroom, sir."
Now that's unusual. Jack hopes it isn't a case of mutiny.
As it turns out Reynolds isn't alone.
Personnel obediently clear a path for him, right over to SG-3. "What's going on, Colonel?"
"General, on behalf of the entire base if you decide to attack Ba'al with everything we've got, we're behind you one hundred percent. Just give the order and we're ready to go. We want to bring SG-1 home as badly as you do."
Jack looks around at everyone gathered in the section of the hangar they call the Gateroom, SG teams and support staff alike. Moved by the unquestioned acceptance of his rank and utmost confidence in his abilities to lead them.
Damned if he doesn't suddenly feel like The Man, not just some shrub of a colonel filling Hammond's shoes by default.
"Thank you, all of you. I appreciate this. Dismissed."
He won't let them down.
A restless hour later the alarm klaxon shrieks to life. "Unscheduled offworld activation!"
Jack storms through the admin building and into the hangar, past the SFs hurrying to the Gateroom.
Sergeant Choi is standing by as swing shift Gatekeeper. "It's SG-1's identification code, sir," she says at the monitor. "I transmitted a whole signal back through the Gate. We have audio contact. It's Colonel Carter."
About damn time. "Carter?" he asks into the microphone.
"We're under heavy fire, sir. Open the iris." The sound of gunfire and energy blasts can be heard in the background.
"Negative. Can you re-route?"
"Negative, sir. The DHD is no longer accessible."
Daniel's voice comes in over the radio. "Jack, what's going on? Let us in!"
"You've been in enemy hands. You know the protocol."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You were captured by Ba'al. We have no way of knowing if your iris code is secure."
"Ba'al? We're on P2X-887. We were trapped in Anubis' secret base. When we came out Jaffa were waiting for us at the Gate."
"It appears these are loyal to Ba'al," Teal'c can be heard remarking amid more gunfire and energy blasts.
"Sir, the Gate's going to shut down," Carter says urgently. "We won't be able to dial out again!"
Jack rubs at his forehead, weighing options. They could be telling the truth, but on the other hand they've been missing for days. Anything could have happened to them.
C'mon, Jack. You're The Man now, so be The Man. Trust your gut and let the chips fall where they may.
"Open the iris," he says to Choi. Then into the microphone, "You're clear."
Staff blasts erupt through the event horizon, slamming into protective baffles laced with trinium and naquadah in front of the control area.
Carter, Teal'c and Daniel emerge at a run, followed by more blasts. "Close the iris!" she yells.
Razor-sharp metal panels tighten into a spiral, stopping further attacks from getting through before the Gate shuts off.
Jack utters a quiet sigh of relief. The heart of the SGC, back home again.
Feigning nonchalance he ambles over. "Hey, guys. Have a nice time without me?"
Daniel rolls his eyes. Teal'c quirks an eyebrow.
Carter smiles. "Good to see you too, sir."
"Trapped in a secret base the whole time, go figure. Too bad you missed all the fun here at home."
"So we've heard, sir." Carter says. She, Daniel and Teal'c perch on exam beds while Dr. Pierce and his night shift infirmary crew check them over.
"How did you get trapped in the first place?"
"The wrist device allowed us access but it would not let us out," Teal'c explains.
"A one-way key, so to speak," Daniel confirms. "It wasn't until Sam succeeded in reversing the ring transporter that we could emerge on the surface again, only to find the Jaffa waiting for us by the Gate."
She shrugs modestly. "Just a simple matter of adjusting the polarity. Don't know why I didn't come up with it earlier."
"Well, you had a lot on your mind." They trade significant looks.
"You really thought Ba'al had captured us, sir?" she asks Jack.
"That's what he claimed, Carter."
"But how did he even know we were missing?"
"Reynolds saw an Al'kesh fleeing the scene."
"Ba'al must have had his Jaffa looking for the lab too," muses Daniel. "Probably intercepted our radio chatter."
"Since Ba'al's Jaffa couldn't find it they decided to wait and see if we turned up eventually. And when we did..." Carter shrugs.
Teal'c nods. "That would explain the ambush."
"Makes sense to me," Jack says. "I got one important question. Did Anubis leave anything cool behind?"
"Not really, no," Daniel says. All three look distinctly disappointed.
"Nuts. Ah well, so long as they're okay?" looking at Pierce with raised eyebrows.
He swipes dark hair across his forehead and drapes his stethoscope around his neck. "Safe and sound, General," he confirms. "No bones broken, only a few minor bruises and scratches. They can go home, though I recommend a hot meal, a stiff drink or two and a good long rest before they stumble upon any more secret alien labs."
Jack smirks at his quip. Normally a surgeon at Gateway Hospital, he's subbing for Janet while she's on a medical mission offworld. They've played together on the improvised golf course a few times. Similar sense of humor, too. "Good to know, doc. Bet you at par next restday?"
"Since you just saved the world again, it's two strokes under or nothing. See you then." He winks at SG-1 and leaves.
"Well, you heard the doctor, campers. Go on, get outta here. Full debrief can wait until tomorrow."
Carter bites her lip. "Sir, a word in private?"
"Wait a minute Carter, gotta make a call first. Be right back." He steps into an empty private room, clicks on the radio. "Hey, Beck? Just wanted to let you know Danny's on his way home from the infirmary..."
When he returns Daniel and Teal'c are already gone. Carter's shrugging on her dusty field jacket over her black t-shirt, discarded during the exam. "Hey, let me help you with that."
"Thanks."
He holds the sleeves for her and zips it up. Leaning in close, inhaling her scent. God, he missed her so much. "Ready to go home?" he breathes in her ear.
"I guess." She looks furtively to either side. They're alone, he made sure of that. "Um, Jack, I'm sorry about how cold I acted towards you before we left-"
He places a finger on her lips. "It's okay, Sam. I'm just glad to have you back."
"It's good to be back. My evaluation, though-"
He stops her with a quick kiss. "Shh. Your evaluation is done, and I think you'd be very pleased."
"Really?"
"What, my brave and brilliant 2IC had doubts of her performance?"
A flush tints her cheeks. "While we were stuck in the lab I was second guessing myself the whole time for ordering SG-3 to remain at the Gate. Daniel and Teal'c helped set the record straight, but I can't stop wondering whether you were completely confident in my leadership skills."
"I've always had complete faith in you, Sam. Standard recon, like you said. And I'm sure your tactics in dealing with the ambush were perfect. Teal'c and Daniel will no doubt write glowing reports about your conduct under fire. Why, I even predict Teal'c will say you were an animal."
"He always exaggerates."
"Doesn't he, though."
"And there's something else. I was thinking about the tainted ZPM. Lee may have underestimated the explosive potential, it could have actually destroyed the entire solar system."
"Planet, solar system, what's the difference?"
"Well, if we figured it out so could Ba'al. He could use it as a weapon against us."
"Sure. Which is exactly why Camulus doesn't have the tainted one."
Her brow furrows. "Jack, what did you do?"
"Chucked it through the Gate to one of the less-hospitable planets. I gave him the dead ZPM you had sitting in your lab instead. It's worthless, right? Besides, it's not like we can't ask good ol' Huy-Braesealis to make more if we need. The advantage of having an Ancient city next door and a niece as Domina."
She shakes her head. "Ba'al's going to be pretty ticked at Camulus."
He nods, feeling very pleased with himself. "Yeah. Better him and not us." He leans in for a second kiss. "Got a couple things to finish in the office first so head on over to the locker room and change, I'll walk you home. Even make dinner."
"Looking forward to it. All we had were protein bars and canteen water for a couple days. I'm starving."
"Yeah, I can hear your stomach growling from here." Another kiss, just because he can. "Love you, Sam. See you soon."
"Love you too, Jack. See you soon."
Teresa left hours ago but there's a light on in the office. Must be the cleaning crew.
He blinks at the man sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "George. You're here late."
"Hello, Jack. Heard you had a few interesting days in office."
"To put it mildly. Join me in a drink?"
"That's why I left you the decanter."
Jack pours two measures of scotch in each tumbler, hands one to Hammond. "So who squealed on me, Walter or Teresa?"
"Walter."
"Figured as much. Always the biggest gossip on base."
"Oh, he had nothing but praise for your conduct." George raises his drink in a toast. "The burden of command, and welcome to it."
"From one general to another." Their glasses clink together.
Jack sips at the amber-colored liquor, collecting his thoughts. "This must be my personal evaluation, then. So how did I do?"
"Passed with flying colors, Jack. I couldn't have handled it better myself, though I don't recall dealing with quite so many problems at the same time," he adds with a wry smile. "Nevertheless, well done."
"Thank you. Have to admit there were times when I was composing a resignation letter to you in my head."
"Nothing I hadn't done myself, the first few years of the Stargate Program."
"I bet. Takes some getting used to, that's for sure."
"Same for any change of command, the way it's always been in the service," he says in mild admonishment. "Now you know how I felt every time I watched you go through the Gate and bring back some new crisis."
"I aimed to please," he lightly quips, then sobers. "Seriously, I want you to know how much respect I've always had for your office and what you did in the SGC. And for putting up with me all these years."
He chuckles. "Well, I can't say it wasn't a challenge at times, tolerating your team's more unorthodox approach to problem-solving. Yet you never failed in doing your duty and giving your all when it counted."
"So you think I'll be a good General-Governor? 'Cause I've had my doubts lately."
"I'm sure you will. Your leadership style's not like mine and no one expects it to be. But the welfare of the men and women under your command is as paramount in your mind as it was for me. You'll meet many challenges over the course of your tenure, both large and small. But I know you'll try your best to do the right thing and trust your instincts. The NEDF's in good hands with you in charge."
For the second time tonight Jack's moved by the quiet sincerity, the unconditional confidence behind words given to him in support. "Thanks, George. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome." He sets his empty glass on the desk and stands up. "There's a late supper waiting for me at home. Any questions before I go?"
"Does it get any easier?"
"I think you know the answer to that already. Mind if I ask one in return?"
"Fire ahead."
"How were you planning to close your imaginary resignation letter to me?"
Jack smiles. "A few hours ago I wasn't sure, to be honest. Now I think I'd say, 'Never mind'."
Hammond laughs. "Thought so. See you around the settlement, Jack. Feel free to call on me for drinks anytime."
"You got it." Nice to have someone he can turn to as a sounding board, who's been where he is now.
"Oh, and one last favor?"
"Name it."
"Take care of Sam for me and Jacob. She's a very special lady." A ghost of a wink, then he's gone.
"Always," Jack replies to the empty room.
Jack wakes all of a sudden and sits up, eyes darting around at the darkened contours and textures of their bedroom, highlighted here and there by lavender moonlight trickling through the curtains.
Nothing's out of place, including the sounds outside the window, open to catch the warmer springtime breeze. Soft footsteps of the night watch on their rounds, the distant yowling of domesticated felines, a faint snatch of late-hour acoustic guitar from the neighborhood eatery. Sam's deep, even breathing as she slumbers, fierce intelligence at rest. All so normal and nonthreatening he relaxes back against the sheets, warm and cozy in bed beside his beloved.
A new chapter in the history of New Earth has begun under his command. It's a big universe out there, filled with dangers and wonders alike. But he's ready to meet any upcoming challenges with an open mind and heart, backed by the support of his people and love of his family. Serving and defending them in return to his last breath if necessary, just like he vowed as a newly-minted Air Force officer.
He's come out of his trial by fire with renewed dedication to keeping his world and loved ones safe. And it wasn't too bad an experience, now was it?
Sam stirs beside him. "What's wrong?" she mumbles.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep."
"Mmm. Okay," wrapping an arm around him and snuggling in close.
Jack smiles into the darkness and holds her tight.
Nope, not bad at all.