Author's Note: Okay, I know adding Rochelle to the mix intrigued some of you, and turned some of you off. One person even commented that "Highlander" was an odd choice to do a crossover with. Here's the thing. It's not a crossover, not in the true sense. If this were a crossover, half the Highlanderverse would come schlepping into the SGC and a Quickening would knock the gate out of commission after it was revealed that Kinsey was an evil Immortal....or something. But that's not going to happen. Rochelle is a character I created for the Highlanderverse, yes. But I've only published one of her stories, even though I've written four. And the truth is they all need a lot of work. But I love her. And I think adding her to SG-1 makes for an interesting dynamic. How do you react when one of your team members is infallible? Do you put her at the front all the time to protect everyone else? Do you get emotionally involved with her, knowing she's going to be walking along after you were dust? Just bear with me, and I think you all will love her as much as I do. Thanks as always to Macisgate!
Spoilers/Disclaimers: None of it's mine. See previous chapters for spoiler warnings.
Four pairs of combat boots and a pair of very expensive high heels ran down the flight of stairs that connected the briefing room to the control room. The gate was dialing in, but the iris was securely in place. Weapons at the ready, soldiers in the control room stood poised to take on whatever might want to come through. The blue light of the wormhole that had established behind the iris cast the gate room with an eerie glow. In the control room, Davis was sitting behind the panel. Red warning lights flashed frantically.
"Report," Jack barked as he entered, SG-1 hot at his heels. Sam sat down beside Davis while Daniel peered over both their shoulders. Teal'c stood, observing the activity, awaiting information. For her part, Rochelle, who had only ever read about the Stargate program, was a bit taken aback by the size of it, sitting just beyond the bulletproof glass.
"We're receiving a signal. It's a text message," Davis reported.
"Daniel, were you playing with my cell phone again?" Jack quipped.
Daniel shot him an annoyed glance, reading the symbols appearing on the screen before them. He frowned. "It's Goa'uld."
This drew Rochelle's attention away from the shimmering majesty of the gate. To look at her in those two moments was to see two utterly different people. Anyone who had seen her looking at the gate for the first time might have described her as an idealist, a dreamer, an optimist. But to watch her jump into work mode, to hear the tone of her voice, one would think her tough, battle hardened, a pessimist who was expecting the worse. "What does it say?"
Daniel squinted, his brain running a mile a minute as he deciphered the alien language. "Um, it's from Camulus, the--"
"The Celtic god of war," Rochelle interrupted. Daniel looked at her and nodded his confirmation.
"I'm not familiar with him," Sam said, fingers flying over the keys as she made sure the iris was holding and no one was trying to blast their way into the facility.
"We've never had contact with him before," Daniel replied distractedly, reading the rest of the message. "Wow."
Jack looked at Teal'c, who had raised an eyebrow, before asking Daniel, "'Wow'? Care to share with the class what 'wow' means this time, Daniel?"
Daniel coughed, "Sorry. It says he wants to arrange a meeting for the purpose of negotiating a treaty." His voice was heavy with surprise and distrust. At his translation, Sam stopped her frantic typing as she ran diagnostics and leaned closer to Davis's screen. Obligingly, he got out of her way. After eight years of things like this, Davis knew when to stay and when to get out of the way. He quietly moved to another terminal.
Jack blanched. "You're telling me some snakehead wants to negotiate a treaty with us?" His disdain was palpable, so much so that, even if she hadn't read up on Jack's well-documented hate for the Goa'uld, Rochelle wouldn't have needed her mental abilities to tell he was preparing to go on the defensive.
Daniel shook his head, "Not just one Goa'uld." His face was serious. "All of them. The System Lords. They wanna send representatives here."
"For what purpose?" Teal'c inquired, stepping closer to join his teammates.
"After what happened in Antarctica, I guess they think that we're finally in possession of superior weapons," Daniel replied. "They no longer see us as inferior but as a people to respect. After the display we put on with the weapon, we're on equal footing with them now."
"We used the Ancients' weapon six months ago," Sam observed. "What took them so long to contact us?"
"After the destruction of Anubis, the reigning System Lord, I suspect there was much fighting and discord among the rest of the System Lords," Teal'c commented. "It is possible it took them this long to reconcile things amongst themselves before turning their attention to the Tauri."
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Send a message back. Tell Camel Cigarettes--"
"Camulus," Rochelle and Daniel corrected him simultaneously. Rochelle smiled apologetically.
"Whatever," Jack retorted, rolling his eyes at the Doublemint Twins. "Tell him that we'll consider their request and get back too them once we've discussed things with our leaders."
Daniel nodded and sat down at the keyboard to relay Jack's message. It was surprisingly diplomatic considering Jack's feelings towards the Goa'uld and his over all devil may care attitude. The last time they had tried brokering a treaty with the Goa'uld, even without Nirrti's meddling and with Thor's presence, the situation had been tense at best.
Jack turned to the rest of his team, "I need to go talk to the President and let him know what the snakeheads are up to now."
"Uh, sir," Sam said. "It may be best not to refer to the Goa'uld as 'snakeheads' when talking to the President." Her voice was even and professional, but her eyes were gentle. Just by looking at the gaze she was sending him, Rochelle could tell Sam was trying to keep the General calm, reassuring him.
The closeness of this team was comforting to Rochelle. Having not let her mental shields down in quite some time, a team at odds with each other would have been an assault. But with these people, they were so close, so in tune with each other, Rochelle almost could not wait to let her shields down and see what kind of empathic sense of them she got.
Jack rolled his eyes, "Thank you, Carter, I know that." His voice sounded irked, but he gave a fleeting glance, momentary, that conveyed his appreciation of her concern for him. He sighed. "In the meantime, why don't you and Teal'c give Rochelle a quick tour of the base, and get her set up in temporary quarters until we figure out where else we're going to put her."
Sam and Teal'c nodded.
"Also," Jack said to Rochelle. "You should get some BDUs. They're standard issue around here."
"Of course, sir," she replied.
"But," he said hopefully. "You have a choice. Blue or green."
"I'll do my best not to fret over it too long, sir," she replied cheekily.
Jack nodded and grinned and they filed out of the control room. "Daniel, when you're done, come to my office." He sighed. "If anyone needs me, I'll be on the phone to the President." As though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he turned and ascended the stairs to his office, in which sat the little red phone that had the Oval Office as "1" on speed dial.
He still couldn't believe he'd accepted this job. Why did Hammond have to go and get promoted? Jack would have been perfectly happy going back into retirement after he thawed out. Or staying where he was. Another decoration would have been fine. Hell, even a promotion in rank would have been okay, as long as he wasn't put in charge. What the hell were the joint chiefs thinking, putting him in charge? Surely they had read his record. He was pretty sure his record could be made into a class at the Academy called "Everything I Ever Needed to Know on what NOT to do, I learned from Jack O'Neill." Or something like that.
How the hell had he been deemed "politically viable" by The Pentagon as the "one man who could run the SGC... from an international perspective, despite the fact that he is part of the American military establishment"? Politically viable? He wasn't sure if he was still mentally viable to do this.
Sighing, he pushed the door to his office open and stared at the red phone with disdain.
Several floors below, Sam was getting Rochelle some BDUs, while Teal'c had gone to inquire as to what, if any, quarters were available for her.
"Do you have a place to stay in Colorado Springs?" Sam asked as they walked along the color-coded floor. She had explained to Rochelle when they left the briefing room that the different colored stripes on the floor and doors corresponded to different departments and divisions to make navigating the 28-level underground fortress a bit simpler.
Rochelle nodded, "When I received this assignment, I arranged to rent a fully furnished house. It's nice."
Sam smiled, "You could have rented an apartment, or a shoe box, with all the time you'll be spending here. We practically live here. Teal'c has lived on base for the last seven years, but I think he's been toying with the idea of getting an apartment."
As they rounded another corner, Rochelle remarked, "I think it's incredible how close you all are. Given the amount of time the teams spend together, I would think the only options are abject loyalty and devotion to one another, or absolute disdain, in which case the team perishes."
"Exactly," Sam said, opening a door to what appeared to be nothing more than an extremely large closet. Rochelle stepped in and realized everything was by size. As she browsed the racks of green BDUs, taking her cue from the rest of SG-1's attire, Sam continued. "It's amazing really, how close we all got. And how quickly. Even with Teal'c coming to the team from considerably strenuous circumstances, we all just...clicked really well."
"'Strenuous'?" Rochelle echoed as she slipped behind a rack of clothes to change. "O'Neill convinced Apophis' First Prime to defect. I'd say that's more than 'strenuous', Colonel."
Sam smiled politely, "I suppose."
"How do you want me to address you, by the way?" Rochelle asked. "Since you are now my superior."
Sam paused, then shrugged. "I don't know. You can call me Colonel if you want. Teal'c usually calls me by my full designation, and Daniel just calls me Sam."
"What about the General?" Rochelle asked, plopping down on the floor to lace up her spanking new combat boots. She winced as she shoved her foot into the stiff leather, trying not to think how unpleasant it would be to wear them until she broke them in. "What does he call you?"
"Carter mostly," Sam answered.
"'Mostly'," Rochelle murmured, a twinkle in her eye.
Sam blushed but made no reply. "And what do you want to be called?" she asked, none to subtly getting the subject off her and Jack.
Rochelle shrugged indifferently as she rose to her feet, "Honestly, I respond to pretty much anything other than 'Butthead'."
Sam snorted with laughter, which caused Rochelle to break out into a full on, ear to ear smile, as though she'd just won some kind of award. "Seriously though, you don't have to call me 'Agent MacLeod' all the time. I'll pretty much respond to anything. Shell, Elle, Shelly, Rochelle, Mac. Pick one."
Sam nodded, "Maybe we'll just keep rotating them until we each find one we like." She winked, "But don't be surprised if Teal'c calls you one long name, like AgentMacLeod or RochelleMacLeod. He never calls me or Daniel by one name. It's always 'ColonelCarter' and 'DanielJackson'."
Rochelle smiled and they headed for the exit.
"I guess Teal'c couldn't find any quarters for you," Sam said as they headed down another long hallway that looked exactly like the last long hallway. "I'm sure we'll figure out something. I suppose we could--"
Just then, Jack's voice boomed over the PA. "SG-1 to the Briefing Room. ASAP."
Sam stopped and looked at Rochelle, who was still holding an armful of clothes. "I guess we're just going to--"
Before she could finish, Rochelle dumped her clothes and shoes in a nearby garbage bin.
Sam was stunned, "Or you could do that."
"Please," Rochelle scoffed. "Do you know how much black clothing and how many black shoes I have? I won't even miss them." Then she began walking west down the hallway. "Come on, Colonel, duty calls."
"Yeah, but the Briefing Room is this way," Sam replied, jerking her thumb east.
Rochelle stopped dead in her tracks and sighed heavily. "Damn," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking back the way they'd come.
"Don't worry," Sam said with a chuckle. "You'll figure it out eventually."
Rochelle huffed, "Yeah right."
Teal'c beat them to the Briefing Room and was sitting at the table with Daniel when the two women arrived. Jack, for his part, was once again pacing. The moment the two women entered, he blurted out, "The President has authorized me to pursue negotiations with the snakeheads!"
"I'm sure he said it just like that too," Daniel remarked.
Sam nodded and calmly sat in the seat to Jack's right, beside Teal'c. Once again, Rochelle slid into the seat next to Daniel. "He seems tense," she muttered but not very quietly. Jack scowled.
"Empathy?" Daniel asked, enjoying getting a rise out of Jack, even at a time like this.
"Well that," Rochelle replied smartly. "And the fact that the pacing's a dead give away."
"Funny," Jack shot at the two of them. "Green, nice choice," he remarked a second later as he observed Rochelle's uniform, once again amazing his friends at how random he could be.
"What of the negotiations, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, bringing the court to order.
"They're happening here again," Jack said with disgust. "But we can't just let them waltz through the gate from whatever God forsaken planet they're coming from."
"So pick a neutral location, a planet of our choosing," Rochelle advised.
Daniel agreed, "Send a team, make sure they're unarmed and then escort them back."
Teal'c nodded, "That seems wise, O'Neill. The System Lords may be in disarray, but they are not to be taken lightly."
"If they accept the terms, it would be a big leap of good faith on their part," Sam observed.
Jack snapped his fingers, "See, this is why I love this team. I was thinking exactly the same thing." Everyone nodded, saying nothing, even though they knew he had been in panic mode moments before and probably had been thinking something along the lines of 'Shit, what do I do now?'
"Who's going to be at the negotiations on our end?" Rochelle asked.
Jack sighed, "Me." He sounded as though he was being forced to walk barefoot across flaming rusty nails.
"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," Sam said helpfully. "You've done it before."
"Again, not by choice," Jack pointed out. "And Thor was here to back me up." He threw Daniel a look that could only be described as pathetically hopeful.
Daniel sighed and took off his glasses, "You want me there too, huh?"
"Ya-huh," Jack replied, nodding his head vigorously. "Come on Daniel," he pleaded. "Leave me in a room for two seconds with those guys, and I'll start an interstellar war." He paused. "We all know I can be a tad.... over-reactionary."
"He's got a point," Sam said a little too emphatically, but Jack was so glad he was getting support on the issue, he didn't notice that she'd kind of dissed him.
"See!" Jack said, wagging a finger in Sam's general direction. "Come on, Spacemonkey, help out your old pal."
Daniel almost growled, much to Rochelle's amusement, "Don't call me 'Spacemonkey'," he sighed, grumbling, "Especially if you want me to help you broker this treaty."
"So you'll do it?" Jack asked nearly gleefully.
But before Daniel could reply, the lights in the Briefing Room, in the entire SGC, in fact, went out.
"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack exclaimed. "What now?"
Spoilers/Disclaimers: None of it's mine. See previous chapters for spoiler warnings.
Four pairs of combat boots and a pair of very expensive high heels ran down the flight of stairs that connected the briefing room to the control room. The gate was dialing in, but the iris was securely in place. Weapons at the ready, soldiers in the control room stood poised to take on whatever might want to come through. The blue light of the wormhole that had established behind the iris cast the gate room with an eerie glow. In the control room, Davis was sitting behind the panel. Red warning lights flashed frantically.
"Report," Jack barked as he entered, SG-1 hot at his heels. Sam sat down beside Davis while Daniel peered over both their shoulders. Teal'c stood, observing the activity, awaiting information. For her part, Rochelle, who had only ever read about the Stargate program, was a bit taken aback by the size of it, sitting just beyond the bulletproof glass.
"We're receiving a signal. It's a text message," Davis reported.
"Daniel, were you playing with my cell phone again?" Jack quipped.
Daniel shot him an annoyed glance, reading the symbols appearing on the screen before them. He frowned. "It's Goa'uld."
This drew Rochelle's attention away from the shimmering majesty of the gate. To look at her in those two moments was to see two utterly different people. Anyone who had seen her looking at the gate for the first time might have described her as an idealist, a dreamer, an optimist. But to watch her jump into work mode, to hear the tone of her voice, one would think her tough, battle hardened, a pessimist who was expecting the worse. "What does it say?"
Daniel squinted, his brain running a mile a minute as he deciphered the alien language. "Um, it's from Camulus, the--"
"The Celtic god of war," Rochelle interrupted. Daniel looked at her and nodded his confirmation.
"I'm not familiar with him," Sam said, fingers flying over the keys as she made sure the iris was holding and no one was trying to blast their way into the facility.
"We've never had contact with him before," Daniel replied distractedly, reading the rest of the message. "Wow."
Jack looked at Teal'c, who had raised an eyebrow, before asking Daniel, "'Wow'? Care to share with the class what 'wow' means this time, Daniel?"
Daniel coughed, "Sorry. It says he wants to arrange a meeting for the purpose of negotiating a treaty." His voice was heavy with surprise and distrust. At his translation, Sam stopped her frantic typing as she ran diagnostics and leaned closer to Davis's screen. Obligingly, he got out of her way. After eight years of things like this, Davis knew when to stay and when to get out of the way. He quietly moved to another terminal.
Jack blanched. "You're telling me some snakehead wants to negotiate a treaty with us?" His disdain was palpable, so much so that, even if she hadn't read up on Jack's well-documented hate for the Goa'uld, Rochelle wouldn't have needed her mental abilities to tell he was preparing to go on the defensive.
Daniel shook his head, "Not just one Goa'uld." His face was serious. "All of them. The System Lords. They wanna send representatives here."
"For what purpose?" Teal'c inquired, stepping closer to join his teammates.
"After what happened in Antarctica, I guess they think that we're finally in possession of superior weapons," Daniel replied. "They no longer see us as inferior but as a people to respect. After the display we put on with the weapon, we're on equal footing with them now."
"We used the Ancients' weapon six months ago," Sam observed. "What took them so long to contact us?"
"After the destruction of Anubis, the reigning System Lord, I suspect there was much fighting and discord among the rest of the System Lords," Teal'c commented. "It is possible it took them this long to reconcile things amongst themselves before turning their attention to the Tauri."
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Send a message back. Tell Camel Cigarettes--"
"Camulus," Rochelle and Daniel corrected him simultaneously. Rochelle smiled apologetically.
"Whatever," Jack retorted, rolling his eyes at the Doublemint Twins. "Tell him that we'll consider their request and get back too them once we've discussed things with our leaders."
Daniel nodded and sat down at the keyboard to relay Jack's message. It was surprisingly diplomatic considering Jack's feelings towards the Goa'uld and his over all devil may care attitude. The last time they had tried brokering a treaty with the Goa'uld, even without Nirrti's meddling and with Thor's presence, the situation had been tense at best.
Jack turned to the rest of his team, "I need to go talk to the President and let him know what the snakeheads are up to now."
"Uh, sir," Sam said. "It may be best not to refer to the Goa'uld as 'snakeheads' when talking to the President." Her voice was even and professional, but her eyes were gentle. Just by looking at the gaze she was sending him, Rochelle could tell Sam was trying to keep the General calm, reassuring him.
The closeness of this team was comforting to Rochelle. Having not let her mental shields down in quite some time, a team at odds with each other would have been an assault. But with these people, they were so close, so in tune with each other, Rochelle almost could not wait to let her shields down and see what kind of empathic sense of them she got.
Jack rolled his eyes, "Thank you, Carter, I know that." His voice sounded irked, but he gave a fleeting glance, momentary, that conveyed his appreciation of her concern for him. He sighed. "In the meantime, why don't you and Teal'c give Rochelle a quick tour of the base, and get her set up in temporary quarters until we figure out where else we're going to put her."
Sam and Teal'c nodded.
"Also," Jack said to Rochelle. "You should get some BDUs. They're standard issue around here."
"Of course, sir," she replied.
"But," he said hopefully. "You have a choice. Blue or green."
"I'll do my best not to fret over it too long, sir," she replied cheekily.
Jack nodded and grinned and they filed out of the control room. "Daniel, when you're done, come to my office." He sighed. "If anyone needs me, I'll be on the phone to the President." As though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he turned and ascended the stairs to his office, in which sat the little red phone that had the Oval Office as "1" on speed dial.
He still couldn't believe he'd accepted this job. Why did Hammond have to go and get promoted? Jack would have been perfectly happy going back into retirement after he thawed out. Or staying where he was. Another decoration would have been fine. Hell, even a promotion in rank would have been okay, as long as he wasn't put in charge. What the hell were the joint chiefs thinking, putting him in charge? Surely they had read his record. He was pretty sure his record could be made into a class at the Academy called "Everything I Ever Needed to Know on what NOT to do, I learned from Jack O'Neill." Or something like that.
How the hell had he been deemed "politically viable" by The Pentagon as the "one man who could run the SGC... from an international perspective, despite the fact that he is part of the American military establishment"? Politically viable? He wasn't sure if he was still mentally viable to do this.
Sighing, he pushed the door to his office open and stared at the red phone with disdain.
Several floors below, Sam was getting Rochelle some BDUs, while Teal'c had gone to inquire as to what, if any, quarters were available for her.
"Do you have a place to stay in Colorado Springs?" Sam asked as they walked along the color-coded floor. She had explained to Rochelle when they left the briefing room that the different colored stripes on the floor and doors corresponded to different departments and divisions to make navigating the 28-level underground fortress a bit simpler.
Rochelle nodded, "When I received this assignment, I arranged to rent a fully furnished house. It's nice."
Sam smiled, "You could have rented an apartment, or a shoe box, with all the time you'll be spending here. We practically live here. Teal'c has lived on base for the last seven years, but I think he's been toying with the idea of getting an apartment."
As they rounded another corner, Rochelle remarked, "I think it's incredible how close you all are. Given the amount of time the teams spend together, I would think the only options are abject loyalty and devotion to one another, or absolute disdain, in which case the team perishes."
"Exactly," Sam said, opening a door to what appeared to be nothing more than an extremely large closet. Rochelle stepped in and realized everything was by size. As she browsed the racks of green BDUs, taking her cue from the rest of SG-1's attire, Sam continued. "It's amazing really, how close we all got. And how quickly. Even with Teal'c coming to the team from considerably strenuous circumstances, we all just...clicked really well."
"'Strenuous'?" Rochelle echoed as she slipped behind a rack of clothes to change. "O'Neill convinced Apophis' First Prime to defect. I'd say that's more than 'strenuous', Colonel."
Sam smiled politely, "I suppose."
"How do you want me to address you, by the way?" Rochelle asked. "Since you are now my superior."
Sam paused, then shrugged. "I don't know. You can call me Colonel if you want. Teal'c usually calls me by my full designation, and Daniel just calls me Sam."
"What about the General?" Rochelle asked, plopping down on the floor to lace up her spanking new combat boots. She winced as she shoved her foot into the stiff leather, trying not to think how unpleasant it would be to wear them until she broke them in. "What does he call you?"
"Carter mostly," Sam answered.
"'Mostly'," Rochelle murmured, a twinkle in her eye.
Sam blushed but made no reply. "And what do you want to be called?" she asked, none to subtly getting the subject off her and Jack.
Rochelle shrugged indifferently as she rose to her feet, "Honestly, I respond to pretty much anything other than 'Butthead'."
Sam snorted with laughter, which caused Rochelle to break out into a full on, ear to ear smile, as though she'd just won some kind of award. "Seriously though, you don't have to call me 'Agent MacLeod' all the time. I'll pretty much respond to anything. Shell, Elle, Shelly, Rochelle, Mac. Pick one."
Sam nodded, "Maybe we'll just keep rotating them until we each find one we like." She winked, "But don't be surprised if Teal'c calls you one long name, like AgentMacLeod or RochelleMacLeod. He never calls me or Daniel by one name. It's always 'ColonelCarter' and 'DanielJackson'."
Rochelle smiled and they headed for the exit.
"I guess Teal'c couldn't find any quarters for you," Sam said as they headed down another long hallway that looked exactly like the last long hallway. "I'm sure we'll figure out something. I suppose we could--"
Just then, Jack's voice boomed over the PA. "SG-1 to the Briefing Room. ASAP."
Sam stopped and looked at Rochelle, who was still holding an armful of clothes. "I guess we're just going to--"
Before she could finish, Rochelle dumped her clothes and shoes in a nearby garbage bin.
Sam was stunned, "Or you could do that."
"Please," Rochelle scoffed. "Do you know how much black clothing and how many black shoes I have? I won't even miss them." Then she began walking west down the hallway. "Come on, Colonel, duty calls."
"Yeah, but the Briefing Room is this way," Sam replied, jerking her thumb east.
Rochelle stopped dead in her tracks and sighed heavily. "Damn," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking back the way they'd come.
"Don't worry," Sam said with a chuckle. "You'll figure it out eventually."
Rochelle huffed, "Yeah right."
Teal'c beat them to the Briefing Room and was sitting at the table with Daniel when the two women arrived. Jack, for his part, was once again pacing. The moment the two women entered, he blurted out, "The President has authorized me to pursue negotiations with the snakeheads!"
"I'm sure he said it just like that too," Daniel remarked.
Sam nodded and calmly sat in the seat to Jack's right, beside Teal'c. Once again, Rochelle slid into the seat next to Daniel. "He seems tense," she muttered but not very quietly. Jack scowled.
"Empathy?" Daniel asked, enjoying getting a rise out of Jack, even at a time like this.
"Well that," Rochelle replied smartly. "And the fact that the pacing's a dead give away."
"Funny," Jack shot at the two of them. "Green, nice choice," he remarked a second later as he observed Rochelle's uniform, once again amazing his friends at how random he could be.
"What of the negotiations, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, bringing the court to order.
"They're happening here again," Jack said with disgust. "But we can't just let them waltz through the gate from whatever God forsaken planet they're coming from."
"So pick a neutral location, a planet of our choosing," Rochelle advised.
Daniel agreed, "Send a team, make sure they're unarmed and then escort them back."
Teal'c nodded, "That seems wise, O'Neill. The System Lords may be in disarray, but they are not to be taken lightly."
"If they accept the terms, it would be a big leap of good faith on their part," Sam observed.
Jack snapped his fingers, "See, this is why I love this team. I was thinking exactly the same thing." Everyone nodded, saying nothing, even though they knew he had been in panic mode moments before and probably had been thinking something along the lines of 'Shit, what do I do now?'
"Who's going to be at the negotiations on our end?" Rochelle asked.
Jack sighed, "Me." He sounded as though he was being forced to walk barefoot across flaming rusty nails.
"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," Sam said helpfully. "You've done it before."
"Again, not by choice," Jack pointed out. "And Thor was here to back me up." He threw Daniel a look that could only be described as pathetically hopeful.
Daniel sighed and took off his glasses, "You want me there too, huh?"
"Ya-huh," Jack replied, nodding his head vigorously. "Come on Daniel," he pleaded. "Leave me in a room for two seconds with those guys, and I'll start an interstellar war." He paused. "We all know I can be a tad.... over-reactionary."
"He's got a point," Sam said a little too emphatically, but Jack was so glad he was getting support on the issue, he didn't notice that she'd kind of dissed him.
"See!" Jack said, wagging a finger in Sam's general direction. "Come on, Spacemonkey, help out your old pal."
Daniel almost growled, much to Rochelle's amusement, "Don't call me 'Spacemonkey'," he sighed, grumbling, "Especially if you want me to help you broker this treaty."
"So you'll do it?" Jack asked nearly gleefully.
But before Daniel could reply, the lights in the Briefing Room, in the entire SGC, in fact, went out.
"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack exclaimed. "What now?"