The Stuff of Nightmares Part 9



He hadn't expected compassion. Condemnation maybe, but not compassion.

It almost broke him. After all these years he almost wept. Only discipline held him there, rigid, standing at attention.

Perhaps he hadn't understood. Didn't he realise that it was Jack's fault.

Jack.

Jack O'Neill.

A soldier who had let a fellow soldier die in his place. Who had stood by and watched. Who had been relieved.

A warrior once.

Then a coward who had lived a lie for years until finally it had been exposed.

He was no hero.

He was a sham, a hollow shell.

Didn't the General understand?