Riley Finn was a man used to the unexpected. He was well aware that the world was a strange and often inexplicable place and learned long ago not to fight it or even say too much about it. The world was as it was; the Powers that Be (in all contexts) saw to that. He lived a fairly unusual yet unglamorous life these days, travelling around the world for very little money to take out demons that could easily rip his head off in service of his country and the world. Riley was not unhappy with his life, and, though it was unorthodox, it had its own routine and regulations.

An Air Force General was not supposed to be a part of this routine.

"I still don't see why he has to meet with us."

Riley, his wife Sam and Graham Millar sat with their commanding officer, Colonel Barran, in a small briefing room in Edwards Air Force Base. Barran had gotten the call once they'd reached a safe zone. Seemed the brass had done a little reorganising while they'd been out on a long-term mission and they had a new pencil-pusher to tell them what to do. A flyboy pencil pusher.

Riley just looked at Graham which shut him up. None of their operation had been happy to hear about the changes, least of all the four of them. As the highest ranking officers, they had more of an idea about how this change could affect them. Hell, if he wanted to, this O'Neill could shut them down.

Sensing her husband's disquiet, Sam slipped her hand into his and squeezed. Riley managed a small smile for her before they disentangled. He tried not to let how worried he really was show. Their relationship was technically against regulations. Out on the frontier, no one really worried too much about regulations. Everyone had to trust everyone else or they all died. Sure, fights broke out sometimes, but it was more due to tension before serious missions than anything. Riley didn't favour Sam over his other soldiers and they'd all swear to that, but this general might not accept it.

The main door swung open and an airman preceded an older man in complete dress uniform. Riley stood along with the others.

"At ease." General O'Neill nodded to them and looked at the airman who closed the door behind him. "As you might have guessed, I'm Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, new head of special projects for the Pentagon." He didn't have to add: 'and your new boss.'

Barran, an older man of near fifty, made the introductions. "I'm Colonel Barran; this is my second-in-command Agent Riley Finn, Agent Graham Millar and Agent Samantha Finn." None of them missed the quick look O'Neill sent between Riley and Sam. Barran continued on as if he hadn't. "I'm sure you've been well briefed on our operation, so I won't go into any great detail. I will assure you, however, that what you have been told is completely true."

"Oh, believe me, I've heard stranger things," O'Neill assured them. "I very much doubt the government would be forking out so much to fund this operation were it a complete waste of time."

"Of course not." The four of them relaxed slightly.

O'Neill grinned. "Guess you were a little worried about that. You don't have to worry, you guys are doing good and so long as you keep doing good, there should be no problem. Now, before we get into a discussion on the actual project, there might be a few things we need to clear up."

"General?" Barran questioned. Riley and the others tensed.

O'Neill seemed to notice this but didn't try to ease their worries. "I am well aware that I am an Air Force General and you, though you all hold government positions, are Special Forces. This is bound to cause a little friction, so let me get a few things cleared up." O'Neill looked all of them in the eye before continuing. "I have no intention of shutting this operation down. I have no intention of interfering with your methods or command structure. I'm trusting you to continue doing your job as best you can for the sake of the world. You've been doing this for five years already and you know intimately what can happen if things go wrong."

"That seems quite generous, sir," Barran admitted. It was more generous than any of them had expected.

"It's practical," O'Neill waved away. "We'll get to the generous part soon. Basically, all I really expect to do is read mission reports, do all the shaking hands and sucking up to keep you in operation and hopefully make a few worthwhile comments in regards to your operations that will at least be considered. That sound fair to you?"

"I think it's more than acceptable," Barran admitted.

"Excellent." O'Neill grinned, an infectious expression that had all of their lips twitching. The four Special Forces officers relaxed. "Now that the hard stuff's out of the way, let's get down to the boring details. Airman!" He called out to the door. It opened and the airman escorting the General before entered.

"Sir?"

"Could you bring in the case I brought with me earlier?"

"Yes sir." He left the door open as he brought the small case in.

"Thank you airman." O'Neill didn't open the case until the man had left the room. The clicks of the lock sounded ominous in the silent and curious atmosphere.

O'Neill brought forth a strange … something from inside the case. "I'm sure you're all wondering what this is." He squeezed the object and it made a sound, startling the four staring at it, before unfolding into a 'z' shape. O'Neill held it by the lower part and tilted it away to show his captive audience exactly what it looked like. "It's called a 'zatnikatel'. It's commonly referred to as a 'zat gun' or just a 'zat'. All you have to do is squeeze it and it produces a concentrated burst of electrical energy that affects an organism's central nervous system, thereby rendering said organism unconscious. A second shot kills and a third disintegrates the matter."

Riley stared at the weapon in fascination and, glancing to the side, knew he wasn't the only one. He needed to know something though. "Sir," he spoke out a little apprehensively. "By organism, what exactly do you mean?"

O'Neill stared back at Riley, his expression no indication of whether he'd impressed the general or said something he really shouldn't have. "Humans," the general admitted. "Those statistics are for human bodies. Other statistics are available. They mostly coincide with the basic statistics, however."

"I see. Thank you, sir." Riley wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the information, but by the look on O'Neill's face, it wasn't a subject for discussion.

"This is not the only operation I will be overseeing," O'Neill said. "The others are as classified as this one. I do intent to integrate some aspects of each project into others where possible. You will get more information on these weapons once I have authorisation to do so. Don't worry," he assured them, seeing the apprehensive glares, "as I said earlier, your mission parameters will not change. I'm just giving you the option of a technological upgrade."

"We're always looking for ways to improve our performance," Barran said neutrally.

"I know. You're not the only one who considers the security of the world to be of upmost importance. I think we'll work well together." O'Neill smiled.

"So, first impressions?" Riley looked at the rest of the command unit and sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"He didn't seem so bad," Sam, ever the voice of reason, interjected. "I mean, he didn't screw around with our command and left everything as it was. Plus, cool new toys."

"I don't know," Graham looked uncomfortable saying something about a commanding officer. "There was something off about him."

"Off?" Riley asked.

"I don't know, Riley, it just felt like there was something else he wasn't saying."

"Well, he's Pentagon," Sam shrugged. "They're always hiding things. Kinda their job. As far as bureaucrats go, he seemed all right."

"That man is not a bureaucrat."

Riley, Sam and Graham all turned to their superior officer. Barran hadn't said anything for the entire ride back to their temporary safe-house in LA. Now that they were back on their ground, they'd finally discussed what this sudden change over could mean.

"Sir?" Riley asked from the couch beside his wife.

Barran leaned forward in the armchair he'd commandeered and picked up a glass of water from the coffee table. "O'Neill is no bureaucrat; he's a soldier if ever I saw one. He had Special Ops written all over him." Barran took a sip. "Highly decorated, O'Neill only received the rank of Brigadier General a year ago. His file's almost completely classified."

"What level?" Riley asked.

"The highest. He's got glowing recommendations from the President and Joint Chiefs. You don't get that kind of recognition by sitting on your ass all day. He's a leader, not a pencil-pusher." Barran took another sip then smiled. "It'll be interesting to see how things work out with a guy like that behind the scenes."

"I think we can trust him," Riley admitted.

"I think you're right," Barran agreed.

"I don't think I made such a great first impression."

Jack wished he was sitting in his large comfy swirly chair in his recently decorated new office as he talked to Daniel. The stark room was homier than it had been the first time he saw it now that he'd had time to adjust. There were pictures and his desk had papers on it – or rather locked away in its drawers since he wasn't actually there at the moment – with a neat fancy pen holder and a shiny nameplate. He hadn't yet acquired the obligatory fern for the corner, but he had a couple of rocks set up on the sideboard in what he thought was a vaguely interesting formation. They were an office-warming gift from the man on the other end of the highly static line.

Reception wasn't the greatest when it was raining in Los Angeles and Daniel was several hundred metres underground.

Instead of the comfy chair he was still breaking in, Jack was sitting on a hard hotel mattress in a stuffy dimly-lit shoe-box of a room getting ready for his next meeting. He'd declined accepting the Edwards Base's generous hospitality for a lower key appearance. He was meeting civilians – very powerful, politically and physically – later that day and he wanted to get off to a good start. Knowing what their experience with military personnel was like, Jack had thought it best if he seemed as normal and non-threatening as an Air Force General acting as an international diplomatic ambassador could.

"I seriously doubt that this meeting's going to go any better," Jack muttered.

"Okay, so you're not exactly what most would consider diplomatic material …"

"Gee, thanks for the support, Daniel. I'm really going to miss all these wonderful pep talks when you go on missions."

"Jack, shut up."

"Eight years together and now I rub off on you?"

"Jack …" Jack grinned hearing Daniel's irritation.

"I'm sorry." He decided to be graceful for once. "I'm just … I screw this meeting up and I could bring about a world war – between our allies! I get the other things … well, not all of them. Some of these new projects are completely Sam's department, but this one is just so not me."

"Jack, listen. You're more capable of this than you think. You're a major part of the reason why this project has been such a success. Thor and the others wouldn't be our allies if it weren't for you and you alone."

"So you and Sam and Teal'c don't matter now?"

"Of course we matter." Jack chuckled at the indignant response. "I'm just saying that you underestimate yourself. You're a powerful man and a great leader. You know how to negotiate and do what's best for the world. I've seen you on missions, and I'm sure that some of my amazing skills have rubbed of on you, just as your sarcasm has infected me."

"Do I need to fly back there and take your ego down a peg or two Dr. Jackson?"

"No, my ego and I are reacquainting ourselves after an eight year separation. My ego blames you for that and I … well I agree with my ego."

"Ah, I miss you too Daniel." Jack looked at his watch. "Right now I miss you even more than I thought possible. Do you think that maybe Mitchell would care all that much if I kidnapped you and used you as my personal diplomatic assistant? I can pay you lots of money and buy you shiny presents!"

Daniel's laughter eased his nerves a little. "I'll think about it. Anyway, I've got to get to a meeting. Sam's got some device and I've got to get there early so Vala doesn't get her fingers all over it."

"Fun shenanigans, how I miss them. Give my best to Sam and Teal'c."

"I will. Take care, Jack."

"You too spacemonkey."

Jack ended the call and tucked his phone away. He glanced around for some sort of distraction but found nothing but an empty room.

"Guess I gotta go," he sighed.

Grabbing his wallet and keys to the rental, Jack headed out to meet with the Council's American-based ambassador certain that this was going to be the most disastrous meeting in the history of all his diplomatic relations.