All disclaimers in Chapter 1.
A note for people who are going to my website and reading ahead: this is a slightly revised version. I'm fixing continuity problems as I go along, and the revisions will be a lot more evident near the end. And if you do read the original version, please, please, please stop posting spoilers in the reviews! (By "spoilers" I mean mentions of anything that happens AFTER the part that's currently being posted.)
I'm posting this part by part to gauge reactions because I'm currently rewriting the sequel; it's been stuck for months and I think I might want to overhaul it completely. Spoiling what (originally) happens next will probably keep people from reading the whole thing and/or commenting. Responses to "Special Case" will affect what I'm going to do to the sequel, which REALLY needs to be trimmed down - among other things. It's too talky, for one thing, and there's just too much diplomacy, which I hate writing as much as Jack O'Neill hates sitting through it.
Special Case
by Amanda Ohlin
Chapter Five
It took two days for the other shoe to drop.
"Daniel, the next time we accept a gift from the locals," Jack grunted as they emerged from the wormhole, "let's try to get a chance to see it first, okay?"
"We would have insulted them if we hadn't accepted," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't be about to break my back!" Jack snapped as the iris closed behind them.
The arrival of SG-1 was causing more stares than usual. No one had expected the team to return lugging a massive stone sculpture, the likes of which none of the soldiers in the Gate room had seen. Not even Daniel had been able to determine what, exactly, it was supposed to represent.
As four or five men hurried to help right the statue and take the burden off SG-1, the wormhole shut off and the iris retracted. Relieved, Jack stretched, arching his back and groaning. Sam rubbed her shoulder, and Daniel looked exhausted. The only one who seemed not in the least winded by the experience was Teal'c.
So he was the first to notice when the bay door slid open to admit Hammond. "General."
"At ease," Hammond said absently, staring at the statue. "Good God, what is that?"
"It's a gift from the Wria - the people of P2X395," Daniel explained tiredly. "As for what it's supposed to represent... frankly, I have no idea."
"They're an agrarian society," Sam explained. "More technologically advanced than some of the agrarian peoples we've come across - they primarily utilize wind and water power for most of their machinery--" She stopped at the looks Jack and Hammond were giving her. "I'll explain it further in my report, sir."
Hammond nodded. "Very well, Major. But that's not what I'm here for. The Pentagon was very interested in the report of the P9X424 mission. R&D is sending someone here tomorrow to investigate the details further."
"But Lieutenant Scott is not present," Teal'c pointed out.
"They don't know that. The report mentioned only the details directly pertaining to the mission and the security of the base, not Dr. Fraiser's recommendations."
Jack frowned. "How much time we got?"
"At best, sixteen hours," Hammond replied. "Major, have you or Dr. Fraiser turned anything new up?"
"We have some possibilities, but nothing concrete, sir."
"Find something concrete, then." Hammond sighed. "We don't have much time."
******
"You sure this is a good place to meet?" Jason asked, glancing around the deserted beach.
Tommy nodded, yawning at the predawn sky. "No one's out here at this hour," he replied sleepily. "No one sane, anyway."
"Since when did we ever claim to be sane?"
"Good point." Tommy shook himself awake, peering down the shoreline. "Great. Right on time."
Jason turned to see five equally sleepy teenagers walking down the beach towards them. Even half-awake, none of them had neglected to wear their signature colors, Jason noted with a pang of nostalgia. The only one who didn't look tired was the long-haired one in the red shirt; the rest were stumbling over the sand.
Grinning, Tommy approached the one in blue, a young black man with a shaved head. "Hey, T.J. Glad you could make it."
T.J. yawned. "No problem."
"Sorry about the time," Tommy sighed.
"No big deal," the brunette in yellow replied with a grin. "Although we had to physically drag Carlos here out of bed," she added, indicating the black-clad teen.
Carlos snorted. "I'm not a morning person, Ash. So sue me."
"'Not a morning person' doesn't even begin to cover it," the dark-haired woman in pink retorted.
The one in red cleared his throat, and Tommy sighed. "Sorry." He gestured to each one in turn. "T.J. Johnson, Cassie Chan, Carlos Vargas, Ashley Hammond, Andros--" He stopped.
Andros was apparently used to this, because he actually cracked a small smile. "Just Andros."
"--this is Jason Scott," Tommy finished without missing a beat. "We were on the first Earth team together."
Hearing that, Andros relaxed a little, and the other four suddenly seemed to wake up. "So what's the big emergency?" Cassie asked curiously.
Tommy looked at Jason, who sighed. "I got into the military a while ago to pay for college," he began carefully. "But last week, I kind of ran into something on duty that's right up your alley."
"Uh-huh," Carlos replied distrustfully, although he was more tired than suspicious.
"Look, I could get court-martialed for telling you any of this," Jason said tiredly. "But it's important. And I think we'd better discuss it somewhere more private."
"Why can't we just talk here?" Ashley asked suspiciously. "It's not like there's anyone to hear at this hour."
Jason turned away, thinking. He didn't know how much any of them knew - in fact, he'd always found it baffling how the Rangers had never run into the Goa'uld, Tok'ra, or any of the other races the SGC had encountered. But then again, the teams he'd known were isolated to a certain planet. This Ranger team was different.
Hoping he was doing the right thing, he finally faced them again. "Have any of you ever heard of the Goa'uld?"
The Rangers assembled gave him blank looks - all except one. Andros' eyes widened in recognition, and the Red Ranger paled visibly. "I think," he said after a moment, "that we should continue this on the Megaship."
******
"I wouldn't have picked up on this at all if not for the blood tests we had to run last month," Dr. Fraiser explained.
Daniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Ah, yes, the quarantine scare. Just goes to show that a hypochondriac has no place on an SG team."
Fraiser smiled at that. "Either way, it proved helpful here. I took blood samples from Lieutenant Scott before and after he regained consciousness. Those two samples looked fine to me, but when I compared them with the older sample I had on file. There's an element in his bloodstream that I can't identify and that his earlier physical tests didn't pick up on. It was present in both samples, but in the more recent samples, it was far more obvious."
"More obvious?" Daniel echoed.
"Whatever this element is, it reacted to the naquid in his system," Fraiser replied. "The naquid is still present, but there are traces of another chemical that I believe was caused by the reaction. It may be what caused him to reject the symbiote."
"What?" Sam exclaimed eagerly. "Can you synthesize it?"
"With this small a sample? No. Besides, I can't even identify this element in Lieutenant Scott's blood that started the reaction in the first place," Fraiser pointed out. "I'm still not entirely sure if this is solely what caused the rejection, either."
Sam nodded. "But it's something."
"Yes. It's something." Fraiser turned away from the readouts. "Let's just hope it's good enough."
******
"Could someone please tell me what the heck a 'Goa'uld' is?" Ashley demanded, carefully sounding out the foreign word. "Andros, you can't assume we know everything."
The Red Ranger sighed. "The Goa'uld were - are - a parasitic race who thrived by taking humans as physical hosts."
Carlos looked perplexed. "Uh, I know I'm not gonna like the answer to this, but what do you mean, hosts?"
"They could attach themselves to the human nervous system," Andros answered uncomfortably. "Usually by penetrating through the back of the neck."
All the Rangers flinched at that, and Carlos rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Forget I asked."
Andros nodded and continued. "The story goes that they took humans from Earth and... harvested them on other planets, literally setting themselves up as gods."
"So why haven't we ever heard of them?" T.J. wondered.
"There hasn't been a Goa'uld presence in this sector of the galaxy for centuries," Andros explained. "Most of what I know is history and hearsay. They were driven out of this sector by Triforian, Aquitian, and Eltarian forces."
Cassie cocked her head. "Then what's wrong? If they're not around here--"
"We don't know that," Andros interrupted, looking directly at Jason as he continued. "About a year ago, there was a sighting of two Goa'uld ships entering the sector and heading straight for Earth."
"What??" Tommy exclaimed in disbelief. "Why didn't we hear about that?"
"That was shortly after Zordon's retirement," Andros replied. "Dimitria was just settling in, and the data had to be verified and passed through the proper channels. By the time a messenger was able to get to Earth, there was nothing there but debris. They couldn't conclusively determine that it was of Goa'uld origin."
"Divatox didn't have the SpaceBase then," Tommy mused. "She couldn't have seen it coming either."
Jason nodded, sighing. "Yeah, Apophis' ships. I read about that."
"What do *you* know about all this?" Ashley asked Jason suspiciously. "And how?"
"I know those were Goa'uld ships," Jason answered slowly. "I know how they were destroyed. I've known about the Goa'uld for the past two months. As for how I know..." He hesitated, then turned his back to them, pulling his collar down to expose the entry scar. "...that's how I got this."
He turned back to face nothing but stunned expressions. "You have the time to listen to this one?"
"Believe me," T.J. said, "we'll make time."
******
"What the hell do you want now?" Jack greeted as he entered the briefing room. No one there took much notice of his rudeness; considering the newest guest on base, it was practically expected by now.
Maybourne stood up, extending a hand. "Nice to see you, too, Colonel."
Jack didn't accept the handshake, moving to take his usual seat instead. Sam and Dr. Fraiser followed suit. Daniel at least nodded at Makepeace.
Teal'c, the last to arrive, made Jack look like the poster child of perfect etiquette. Even from an expressionless mask, the icy glare he shot Maybourne was obvious to all. Maybourne's satisfied smirk wilted. "Teal'c. Good to see you again."
"I cannot say the same," Teal'c replied, sitting down.
"You're not still holding a grudge over that--"
"We are not subject to my people's customs here," Teal'c interrupted. "For that, you should be thankful."
Maybourne flinched and scurried to a seat, making a point to sit away from Teal'c. Jack grinned, and Sam suppressed a chuckle. "As I have informed Colonel Maybourne," Hammond began, "the SGC has all the proper equipment and facilities for adequate testing."
"And yet, after three days, you haven't come up with a solution," Maybourne answered smugly.
Fraiser took that as her cue. "I've already isolated traces of an unidentified element in Lieutenant Scott's bloodstream, sir. According to samples taken before and after the mission, the element reacted to the naquid secreted by the symbiote."
"We think it may have been at least partially responsible for the rejection," Sam added.
Maybourne nodded. "I see, I see. Have you determined what, exactly, this element is?"
"It doesn't match any known chemical configuration," Fraiser replied. "Possibly alien in origin. Which begs the question, of course, how it got into his system in the first place."
"Yes, yes, yes," Maybourne said with the tone of someone who isn't listening because he doesn't really care. "I'm afraid that won't satisfy the Pentagon. I have orders to bring Lieutenant Scott to a larger facility for further testing." He produced a sheaf of papers, which he handed to Hammond. "Speaking of which, where is the lieutenant?"
There was a brief pause before Daniel answered. "On leave, actually."
"On leave?" Maybourne echoed in disbelief. "You released an officer without adequately assessing the nature of his condition? There's no telling what he might--"
"Colonel." Fraiser's tone was surprisingly cold. "Lieutenant Scott was put through a complete battery of tests - psychological as well as physical - before he was released on my recommendation."
"Your recommendation, Doctor?" Maybourne demanded.
"As well as Dr. Mackenzie's," Hammond informed him. "And frankly, I had to agree with their reasoning."
"I'm afraid that I don't," Maybourne said. "I have orders from the Pentagon, General. Whether you like it or not."
"Oh, come on!" Jack snapped. "The kid saved my team, nearly got possessed by a Goa'uld, and managed to fight the damn thing off and keep it from killing us. He's earned a break!"
Maybourne ignored him for a change. "General Hammond, I am authorized to retrieve Lieutenant Scott from his own doorstep if need be."
"Then that's what you'll have to do," Hammond told him. "I can't stop you, but I certainly won't help you."
"Have it your way," Maybourne answered, standing up. "Gentlemen," he added curtly before turning and striding out the door.
"Well," Jack said once Maybourne was gone. "That was pleasant."
Hammond said nothing. He was peering suspiciously at the orders Maybourne had given him. "Sir?" Sam asked. "Is something wrong?"
"Maybe," Hammond admitted. "Something doesn't fit here. I'm not entirely sure these orders came through the proper channels."
"That's not all that surprising," Fraiser remarked.
Hammond stood up, and the others followed suit. "I'm going to try to get in touch with the President on this one. Dismissed."
As they filed out of the room, Jack pulled the other members of SG-1 aside. That is, he pulled Daniel aside; Teal'c and Sam simply saw what was coming and hung back. "We've got to do something."
"Uh, what, exactly?" Daniel asked. "General Hammond's already calling the President. There's not much we can do."
"Doesn't matter who he calls," Jack muttered. "Even if those orders are bullshit, Maybourne will probably grab Lieutenant Scott before Hammond can get the order revoked."
Sam bit her lip thoughtfully. "Then we'd better get to him before Maybourne does."
Jack turned to stare at her. "Why, Carter, was that a hint of a devious plan forming?"
"Sorry, Colonel, nothing so extreme," Sam replied, smirking. "We've got to buy some time for General Hammond to verify the orders."
"We cannot leave the facility without authorization," Teal'c reminded her. "As I have been told many times."
"That's true," Sam admitted. "But there's nothing in the rules that forbids a long-distance call."
Jack's eyes lit up. "And you know what? Civilian personnel don't have to get every call cleared." He glanced over at Daniel meaningfully.
Daniel glared at Sam with mock irritation. "You always give me the fun stuff."
"Wait a minute, Daniel, you don't have to--"
"No, no, Sam, it's okay," Daniel reassured her, sighing. "I'll do it. You know they'll record the call, though."
Jack shrugged. "Something tells me Hammond isn't going to raise hell over this one."
******
It was sitting in the middle of his desk, glinting in the light of the reading lamp. Jason stood there for a moment, studying the small metal object with a curious expression. The sight of the communicator brought back memories of his Rangering days. Those were over and done with, he knew, but the presence of the strip of metal seemed to fill a gap which had been empty for far too long.
"God, I'm getting nostalgic in my old age," he muttered, tossing his bag on the bed and opening a drawer.
"Jason! Telephone!"
Not now. "Ma, can you take a message?" he shouted back.
His mother snorted at that. "Get your butt down here and answer the phone."
Groaning, Jason tossed a pair of socks into the bag before turning and hurrying downstairs. His mother handed him the cordless phone before turning and heading into the den to work on her article. Sighing, Jason put the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"
"Lieutenant? This is, uh, this is Daniel Jackson."
Jason stiffened immediately. This could not be good news. Glancing furtively at the open door of the den, he scooted towards the living room, keeping his voice low. "Dr. Jackson? Why are *you* calling me?"
"I drew the short straw," was the acerbic reply. "Colonel Maybourne showed up on base this afternoon. He has orders to drag you off to a facility for testing. General Hammond is trying to get the orders revoked, but Maybourne is already on his way."
"Oh, no," Jason groaned. "How much time?"
"They left about two hours ago. If they're not there now, they will be soon."
Two hours. Oh, God. "Okay," Jason said after a moment. "I'm just going to have to be somewhere else when they get here. Thanks for the warning."
With that, he hung up the phone and dashed up the stairs as Sarah emerged from the den. "Honey? Who was that?"
"Nobody, Mom!" Jason called back as he dashed into his room.
A second later, the doorbell rang.
******
Jason slammed the door behind him and locked it, frantically glancing around the room. It looked like he'd be packing early. He grabbed the last of his underwear as well as a couple of spare shirts and pants, stuffing them hastily into his backpack. As he struggled to get his shoes on, he glanced out the window.
There were two military vehicles pulled up in front.
******
"And you have to take him back to base?" Sarah echoed incredulously, peering at the uniformed man on her doorstep. "He's still got seven days' leave."
"Yes, that's true," Maybourne answered smoothly, "but circumstances have changed. Is your son at home, Mrs. Scott?"
"Circumstances? What kind of circumstances?"
"I don't think this concerns you."
Sarah glared fiercely at him. "Oh, I think it definitely concerns me. This is my son, my son who came home tired and extremely jumpy and won't even say why. Now the whole thing may be classified, but I think I'm entitled to at least a vague excuse."
"Ma'am, I have official orders. That should be enough of an excuse."
"Oh, really?" the small woman inquired coldly. Maybourne was suddenly reminded of the old adage that a mother bear protecting her cubs was too dangerous for a hunter to cross. "Let me see these orders."
"Perhaps you could tell us where your son is first," Maybourne tried, hesitating as one of his men came up to him. "What is it?"
"He's upstairs, sir."
Maybourne nodded, turning to smile at Sarah as he gave the order. "Well, go fetch him, then."
*****
A note for people who are going to my website and reading ahead: this is a slightly revised version. I'm fixing continuity problems as I go along, and the revisions will be a lot more evident near the end. And if you do read the original version, please, please, please stop posting spoilers in the reviews! (By "spoilers" I mean mentions of anything that happens AFTER the part that's currently being posted.)
I'm posting this part by part to gauge reactions because I'm currently rewriting the sequel; it's been stuck for months and I think I might want to overhaul it completely. Spoiling what (originally) happens next will probably keep people from reading the whole thing and/or commenting. Responses to "Special Case" will affect what I'm going to do to the sequel, which REALLY needs to be trimmed down - among other things. It's too talky, for one thing, and there's just too much diplomacy, which I hate writing as much as Jack O'Neill hates sitting through it.
Special Case
by Amanda Ohlin
Chapter Five
It took two days for the other shoe to drop.
"Daniel, the next time we accept a gift from the locals," Jack grunted as they emerged from the wormhole, "let's try to get a chance to see it first, okay?"
"We would have insulted them if we hadn't accepted," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't be about to break my back!" Jack snapped as the iris closed behind them.
The arrival of SG-1 was causing more stares than usual. No one had expected the team to return lugging a massive stone sculpture, the likes of which none of the soldiers in the Gate room had seen. Not even Daniel had been able to determine what, exactly, it was supposed to represent.
As four or five men hurried to help right the statue and take the burden off SG-1, the wormhole shut off and the iris retracted. Relieved, Jack stretched, arching his back and groaning. Sam rubbed her shoulder, and Daniel looked exhausted. The only one who seemed not in the least winded by the experience was Teal'c.
So he was the first to notice when the bay door slid open to admit Hammond. "General."
"At ease," Hammond said absently, staring at the statue. "Good God, what is that?"
"It's a gift from the Wria - the people of P2X395," Daniel explained tiredly. "As for what it's supposed to represent... frankly, I have no idea."
"They're an agrarian society," Sam explained. "More technologically advanced than some of the agrarian peoples we've come across - they primarily utilize wind and water power for most of their machinery--" She stopped at the looks Jack and Hammond were giving her. "I'll explain it further in my report, sir."
Hammond nodded. "Very well, Major. But that's not what I'm here for. The Pentagon was very interested in the report of the P9X424 mission. R&D is sending someone here tomorrow to investigate the details further."
"But Lieutenant Scott is not present," Teal'c pointed out.
"They don't know that. The report mentioned only the details directly pertaining to the mission and the security of the base, not Dr. Fraiser's recommendations."
Jack frowned. "How much time we got?"
"At best, sixteen hours," Hammond replied. "Major, have you or Dr. Fraiser turned anything new up?"
"We have some possibilities, but nothing concrete, sir."
"Find something concrete, then." Hammond sighed. "We don't have much time."
******
"You sure this is a good place to meet?" Jason asked, glancing around the deserted beach.
Tommy nodded, yawning at the predawn sky. "No one's out here at this hour," he replied sleepily. "No one sane, anyway."
"Since when did we ever claim to be sane?"
"Good point." Tommy shook himself awake, peering down the shoreline. "Great. Right on time."
Jason turned to see five equally sleepy teenagers walking down the beach towards them. Even half-awake, none of them had neglected to wear their signature colors, Jason noted with a pang of nostalgia. The only one who didn't look tired was the long-haired one in the red shirt; the rest were stumbling over the sand.
Grinning, Tommy approached the one in blue, a young black man with a shaved head. "Hey, T.J. Glad you could make it."
T.J. yawned. "No problem."
"Sorry about the time," Tommy sighed.
"No big deal," the brunette in yellow replied with a grin. "Although we had to physically drag Carlos here out of bed," she added, indicating the black-clad teen.
Carlos snorted. "I'm not a morning person, Ash. So sue me."
"'Not a morning person' doesn't even begin to cover it," the dark-haired woman in pink retorted.
The one in red cleared his throat, and Tommy sighed. "Sorry." He gestured to each one in turn. "T.J. Johnson, Cassie Chan, Carlos Vargas, Ashley Hammond, Andros--" He stopped.
Andros was apparently used to this, because he actually cracked a small smile. "Just Andros."
"--this is Jason Scott," Tommy finished without missing a beat. "We were on the first Earth team together."
Hearing that, Andros relaxed a little, and the other four suddenly seemed to wake up. "So what's the big emergency?" Cassie asked curiously.
Tommy looked at Jason, who sighed. "I got into the military a while ago to pay for college," he began carefully. "But last week, I kind of ran into something on duty that's right up your alley."
"Uh-huh," Carlos replied distrustfully, although he was more tired than suspicious.
"Look, I could get court-martialed for telling you any of this," Jason said tiredly. "But it's important. And I think we'd better discuss it somewhere more private."
"Why can't we just talk here?" Ashley asked suspiciously. "It's not like there's anyone to hear at this hour."
Jason turned away, thinking. He didn't know how much any of them knew - in fact, he'd always found it baffling how the Rangers had never run into the Goa'uld, Tok'ra, or any of the other races the SGC had encountered. But then again, the teams he'd known were isolated to a certain planet. This Ranger team was different.
Hoping he was doing the right thing, he finally faced them again. "Have any of you ever heard of the Goa'uld?"
The Rangers assembled gave him blank looks - all except one. Andros' eyes widened in recognition, and the Red Ranger paled visibly. "I think," he said after a moment, "that we should continue this on the Megaship."
******
"I wouldn't have picked up on this at all if not for the blood tests we had to run last month," Dr. Fraiser explained.
Daniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Ah, yes, the quarantine scare. Just goes to show that a hypochondriac has no place on an SG team."
Fraiser smiled at that. "Either way, it proved helpful here. I took blood samples from Lieutenant Scott before and after he regained consciousness. Those two samples looked fine to me, but when I compared them with the older sample I had on file. There's an element in his bloodstream that I can't identify and that his earlier physical tests didn't pick up on. It was present in both samples, but in the more recent samples, it was far more obvious."
"More obvious?" Daniel echoed.
"Whatever this element is, it reacted to the naquid in his system," Fraiser replied. "The naquid is still present, but there are traces of another chemical that I believe was caused by the reaction. It may be what caused him to reject the symbiote."
"What?" Sam exclaimed eagerly. "Can you synthesize it?"
"With this small a sample? No. Besides, I can't even identify this element in Lieutenant Scott's blood that started the reaction in the first place," Fraiser pointed out. "I'm still not entirely sure if this is solely what caused the rejection, either."
Sam nodded. "But it's something."
"Yes. It's something." Fraiser turned away from the readouts. "Let's just hope it's good enough."
******
"Could someone please tell me what the heck a 'Goa'uld' is?" Ashley demanded, carefully sounding out the foreign word. "Andros, you can't assume we know everything."
The Red Ranger sighed. "The Goa'uld were - are - a parasitic race who thrived by taking humans as physical hosts."
Carlos looked perplexed. "Uh, I know I'm not gonna like the answer to this, but what do you mean, hosts?"
"They could attach themselves to the human nervous system," Andros answered uncomfortably. "Usually by penetrating through the back of the neck."
All the Rangers flinched at that, and Carlos rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Forget I asked."
Andros nodded and continued. "The story goes that they took humans from Earth and... harvested them on other planets, literally setting themselves up as gods."
"So why haven't we ever heard of them?" T.J. wondered.
"There hasn't been a Goa'uld presence in this sector of the galaxy for centuries," Andros explained. "Most of what I know is history and hearsay. They were driven out of this sector by Triforian, Aquitian, and Eltarian forces."
Cassie cocked her head. "Then what's wrong? If they're not around here--"
"We don't know that," Andros interrupted, looking directly at Jason as he continued. "About a year ago, there was a sighting of two Goa'uld ships entering the sector and heading straight for Earth."
"What??" Tommy exclaimed in disbelief. "Why didn't we hear about that?"
"That was shortly after Zordon's retirement," Andros replied. "Dimitria was just settling in, and the data had to be verified and passed through the proper channels. By the time a messenger was able to get to Earth, there was nothing there but debris. They couldn't conclusively determine that it was of Goa'uld origin."
"Divatox didn't have the SpaceBase then," Tommy mused. "She couldn't have seen it coming either."
Jason nodded, sighing. "Yeah, Apophis' ships. I read about that."
"What do *you* know about all this?" Ashley asked Jason suspiciously. "And how?"
"I know those were Goa'uld ships," Jason answered slowly. "I know how they were destroyed. I've known about the Goa'uld for the past two months. As for how I know..." He hesitated, then turned his back to them, pulling his collar down to expose the entry scar. "...that's how I got this."
He turned back to face nothing but stunned expressions. "You have the time to listen to this one?"
"Believe me," T.J. said, "we'll make time."
******
"What the hell do you want now?" Jack greeted as he entered the briefing room. No one there took much notice of his rudeness; considering the newest guest on base, it was practically expected by now.
Maybourne stood up, extending a hand. "Nice to see you, too, Colonel."
Jack didn't accept the handshake, moving to take his usual seat instead. Sam and Dr. Fraiser followed suit. Daniel at least nodded at Makepeace.
Teal'c, the last to arrive, made Jack look like the poster child of perfect etiquette. Even from an expressionless mask, the icy glare he shot Maybourne was obvious to all. Maybourne's satisfied smirk wilted. "Teal'c. Good to see you again."
"I cannot say the same," Teal'c replied, sitting down.
"You're not still holding a grudge over that--"
"We are not subject to my people's customs here," Teal'c interrupted. "For that, you should be thankful."
Maybourne flinched and scurried to a seat, making a point to sit away from Teal'c. Jack grinned, and Sam suppressed a chuckle. "As I have informed Colonel Maybourne," Hammond began, "the SGC has all the proper equipment and facilities for adequate testing."
"And yet, after three days, you haven't come up with a solution," Maybourne answered smugly.
Fraiser took that as her cue. "I've already isolated traces of an unidentified element in Lieutenant Scott's bloodstream, sir. According to samples taken before and after the mission, the element reacted to the naquid secreted by the symbiote."
"We think it may have been at least partially responsible for the rejection," Sam added.
Maybourne nodded. "I see, I see. Have you determined what, exactly, this element is?"
"It doesn't match any known chemical configuration," Fraiser replied. "Possibly alien in origin. Which begs the question, of course, how it got into his system in the first place."
"Yes, yes, yes," Maybourne said with the tone of someone who isn't listening because he doesn't really care. "I'm afraid that won't satisfy the Pentagon. I have orders to bring Lieutenant Scott to a larger facility for further testing." He produced a sheaf of papers, which he handed to Hammond. "Speaking of which, where is the lieutenant?"
There was a brief pause before Daniel answered. "On leave, actually."
"On leave?" Maybourne echoed in disbelief. "You released an officer without adequately assessing the nature of his condition? There's no telling what he might--"
"Colonel." Fraiser's tone was surprisingly cold. "Lieutenant Scott was put through a complete battery of tests - psychological as well as physical - before he was released on my recommendation."
"Your recommendation, Doctor?" Maybourne demanded.
"As well as Dr. Mackenzie's," Hammond informed him. "And frankly, I had to agree with their reasoning."
"I'm afraid that I don't," Maybourne said. "I have orders from the Pentagon, General. Whether you like it or not."
"Oh, come on!" Jack snapped. "The kid saved my team, nearly got possessed by a Goa'uld, and managed to fight the damn thing off and keep it from killing us. He's earned a break!"
Maybourne ignored him for a change. "General Hammond, I am authorized to retrieve Lieutenant Scott from his own doorstep if need be."
"Then that's what you'll have to do," Hammond told him. "I can't stop you, but I certainly won't help you."
"Have it your way," Maybourne answered, standing up. "Gentlemen," he added curtly before turning and striding out the door.
"Well," Jack said once Maybourne was gone. "That was pleasant."
Hammond said nothing. He was peering suspiciously at the orders Maybourne had given him. "Sir?" Sam asked. "Is something wrong?"
"Maybe," Hammond admitted. "Something doesn't fit here. I'm not entirely sure these orders came through the proper channels."
"That's not all that surprising," Fraiser remarked.
Hammond stood up, and the others followed suit. "I'm going to try to get in touch with the President on this one. Dismissed."
As they filed out of the room, Jack pulled the other members of SG-1 aside. That is, he pulled Daniel aside; Teal'c and Sam simply saw what was coming and hung back. "We've got to do something."
"Uh, what, exactly?" Daniel asked. "General Hammond's already calling the President. There's not much we can do."
"Doesn't matter who he calls," Jack muttered. "Even if those orders are bullshit, Maybourne will probably grab Lieutenant Scott before Hammond can get the order revoked."
Sam bit her lip thoughtfully. "Then we'd better get to him before Maybourne does."
Jack turned to stare at her. "Why, Carter, was that a hint of a devious plan forming?"
"Sorry, Colonel, nothing so extreme," Sam replied, smirking. "We've got to buy some time for General Hammond to verify the orders."
"We cannot leave the facility without authorization," Teal'c reminded her. "As I have been told many times."
"That's true," Sam admitted. "But there's nothing in the rules that forbids a long-distance call."
Jack's eyes lit up. "And you know what? Civilian personnel don't have to get every call cleared." He glanced over at Daniel meaningfully.
Daniel glared at Sam with mock irritation. "You always give me the fun stuff."
"Wait a minute, Daniel, you don't have to--"
"No, no, Sam, it's okay," Daniel reassured her, sighing. "I'll do it. You know they'll record the call, though."
Jack shrugged. "Something tells me Hammond isn't going to raise hell over this one."
******
It was sitting in the middle of his desk, glinting in the light of the reading lamp. Jason stood there for a moment, studying the small metal object with a curious expression. The sight of the communicator brought back memories of his Rangering days. Those were over and done with, he knew, but the presence of the strip of metal seemed to fill a gap which had been empty for far too long.
"God, I'm getting nostalgic in my old age," he muttered, tossing his bag on the bed and opening a drawer.
"Jason! Telephone!"
Not now. "Ma, can you take a message?" he shouted back.
His mother snorted at that. "Get your butt down here and answer the phone."
Groaning, Jason tossed a pair of socks into the bag before turning and hurrying downstairs. His mother handed him the cordless phone before turning and heading into the den to work on her article. Sighing, Jason put the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"
"Lieutenant? This is, uh, this is Daniel Jackson."
Jason stiffened immediately. This could not be good news. Glancing furtively at the open door of the den, he scooted towards the living room, keeping his voice low. "Dr. Jackson? Why are *you* calling me?"
"I drew the short straw," was the acerbic reply. "Colonel Maybourne showed up on base this afternoon. He has orders to drag you off to a facility for testing. General Hammond is trying to get the orders revoked, but Maybourne is already on his way."
"Oh, no," Jason groaned. "How much time?"
"They left about two hours ago. If they're not there now, they will be soon."
Two hours. Oh, God. "Okay," Jason said after a moment. "I'm just going to have to be somewhere else when they get here. Thanks for the warning."
With that, he hung up the phone and dashed up the stairs as Sarah emerged from the den. "Honey? Who was that?"
"Nobody, Mom!" Jason called back as he dashed into his room.
A second later, the doorbell rang.
******
Jason slammed the door behind him and locked it, frantically glancing around the room. It looked like he'd be packing early. He grabbed the last of his underwear as well as a couple of spare shirts and pants, stuffing them hastily into his backpack. As he struggled to get his shoes on, he glanced out the window.
There were two military vehicles pulled up in front.
******
"And you have to take him back to base?" Sarah echoed incredulously, peering at the uniformed man on her doorstep. "He's still got seven days' leave."
"Yes, that's true," Maybourne answered smoothly, "but circumstances have changed. Is your son at home, Mrs. Scott?"
"Circumstances? What kind of circumstances?"
"I don't think this concerns you."
Sarah glared fiercely at him. "Oh, I think it definitely concerns me. This is my son, my son who came home tired and extremely jumpy and won't even say why. Now the whole thing may be classified, but I think I'm entitled to at least a vague excuse."
"Ma'am, I have official orders. That should be enough of an excuse."
"Oh, really?" the small woman inquired coldly. Maybourne was suddenly reminded of the old adage that a mother bear protecting her cubs was too dangerous for a hunter to cross. "Let me see these orders."
"Perhaps you could tell us where your son is first," Maybourne tried, hesitating as one of his men came up to him. "What is it?"
"He's upstairs, sir."
Maybourne nodded, turning to smile at Sarah as he gave the order. "Well, go fetch him, then."
*****