"IMPERIUM"

Live from P3X-595…

Greetings, all. I have decided to stick to an update schedule; attempting to update every Thursday and Sunday (Australian time). Which for some of you will be Wednesdays and Saturdays… I think. Not that it really matters, the point is, I'm trying to get two updates a week.

Random bit of trivia (and I hope I got this right!) – for those who are familiar with Seasons Two and Eight (which should be the entirety of the known world). I was re-watching The Tok'ra (Part One), and in the bit where General Hammond goes to visit Jacob Carter in the hospital, a call goes out over the PA for one Doctor Shanahan. Popular name, isn't it?


"You have untapped greatness inside you, Sam. But you're limited by your own fears. You play by the rules, you do as you're told and you deny yourself your own desires."

"I have no desire to rule the galaxy, believe me."

"All humans desire power. It's just that most of them are never in a position to attain it."

The Repli-Carter and Carter, "Gemini"


A week after Sam's accident, Jack was searching the base for the Colonel to ask her to report to the infirmary to be mission checked. To his surprise, he found her not embroiled in a tangle of wires and flashing lights in her lab, but in the gym, commencing a brutal assault on a treadmill.

She was so absorbed in her process she failed to notice him cough when he entered.

"Carter!" he snapped at her finally.

Without breaking stride, she looked up and offered him a huge grin. "Morning, sir."

"I got a request on my desk this morning asking that you report…"

"To the infirmary to be okayed for the next mission," she finished, beaming. "One step ahead of you sir. The doctor said my knee is fine, and I can resume missions with your authorisation."

"Ah…" Jack said, frowning. "You did this… when?"

"0600 this morning, sir," she said, still smiling.

It then struck Jack as odd that she was managing to have a strenuous run on the treadmill, on a recently recovered knee, while having a perfectly normal conversation, and was hardly blowing at all.

"Um… my, how fit you look today, Carter," he commented awkwardly.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled again.

Jack was starting to find it a little creepy.

"I wanted to make sure I was up to scratch before SG-1 gets back into the field," she explained, pressing a button and allowing the treadmill to slow before jumping off.

"Oh, I think you'll be scratching just fine, Carter," Jack said, watching as she wiped the beads of sweat from her neck and took a long swig from her drink bottle.

"So what brings you here this morning, sir?"

"Well, looking for you, but I usually meet T here of a morning for a bit of boxing. You know…" he said, dancing lightly on his feet and punching the air as way of explanation.

"Yes, sir. Teal'c left already, sir, he said something about an inadequate Kel'no'reem? He did a small workout and then left. Perhaps he isn't up for boxing this morning, sir?"

"He musn't be…" mused Jack. "Damn it, always like to start the day off with a good box."

"You mean you like to start your day flat on your back on the floor?" she asked innocently. The 'sir' was eventually added as an afterthought when Jack raised his eyebrows.

"I'll have you know I can take Teal'c on, pound for pound, Carter," Jack grumbled.

"Yes, sir," she answered, her blue eyes sparkling with a mischief he rarely saw. "Perhaps, then, you would like to take me on? I'm up for a round or two, sir."

"You, Carter?" he asked, eyeing her shrewdly.

"What, sir, afraid to fight a little girl? I've had most of the same training as you, sir."

"Well, I've had Special Forces training, Carter…" Jack reminded her.

"Teal'c hasn't, and you fight him," she countered.

"He's a Jaffa, Carter… that's like, Goa'uld Special Forces."

"So?" she demanded. "Are you afraid of me, sir?"

"What?" Jack scoffed, unintentionally. "I'm afraid of hurting you, Carter, there's a difference."

"And I'm not afraid of you hurting me, sir. Come on," she taunted, "We'll be wearing padding. It's no more mismatched than you fighting Teal'c."

Jack bridled at her last comment. "You really think you can take me, Carter?" he said roughly.

"I think you should let me try, sir. You enjoy your boxing, I'm up for the challenge… it might be nice to win for a change, sir," she smiled, provoking him again.

"Make no mistake, Carter, I will win," he responded, offering her a grim smile.

"So you accept my challenge, sir?" she asked triumphantly.

"Yeah, all right. You and me, it's on," he said, a trace of reluctance still in his voice as he offered her a hand to seal the deal.

"Really?" piped up a voice from near the barbells.

The two officers turned to see a sweaty airman with big eyes.

"Yes, really," growled Jack in his best 'scary General' voice. "What are you looking at, Airman?"

"N…nothing, sir," the young man stammered. "I was just leaving, s… sir."

He gathered his towel and positively leapt over a row of barbells on the ground and skidded out the door.

"I must say, sir, you are remarkably talented at inspiring fear amongst the ranks," Sam observed wryly.

"Why, thank you, Carter. I pride myself on good work."


The airman that had overheard the exchange between the Colonel and the General raced down the hallways of the SCG. It was a well known fact within the SCG that if you were on base at 0630 and it wasn't because you needed to attend the Stargate, you were in the commissary, trying to convince your body to respond to a shot of caffeine.

He burst into the commissary to find a host of around twenty staff, including airmen, some of SG-3, -6 and -11, some medical staff, and the rest of SG-1.

They all looked up at his stunning entrance, expecting to hear news of an alien incursion, and explosion from Colonel Carter's lab, or a virus in the computers. What they heard, however, was what many people had been wondering about for a long time.

"ColonelCarterisabouttofightGeneralO'Neill," the airman gasped.

"Excuse me?" asked Daniel, worried. He was certain he had heard the words 'Carter' and 'O'Neill' in the garbled sentence.

"I said, Colonel Carter is about to fight General O'Neill. They've issued a boxing challenge to one another."

"I am sure it is just practice," spoke up Teal'c. "I often spar with O'Neill. It is a training exercise, nothing more."

"No," said the airman, "This is for real. I think they are going to really go for it, sirs. It's a real fight."

Colonel Makepeace stood up and put his coffee cup down on the table.

"Carter is taking on the General?" he mused. "That would be… interesting. SG-3?" he addressed his team. "We have to… go… now… and finish that… paperwork… for the General," he said slowly.

The rest of his team, catching his drift, slowing rose and started muttering about unfinished paperwork as they left the commissary. It did not go unnoticed, however, that they went in completely the opposite direction from the team offices. More in the direction of the gym, really.

The rest of the people in the commissary exchanged looks, all privately thinking the same thoughts. This became immediately apparent when, at some unseen signal, they rose as one and raced out of the commissary, jockeying for prime position to get into the gym and watch the SGC equivalent of a rumble in the jungle.


Meanwhile, Sam and Jack were putting on their padding and giving eachother a chance to warm up on the bags, each surreptitiously taking a note of the others ability.

"Formal boxing, sir? Or just free hand-to-hand?" she asked after a long silence.

"Whatever you think you can knock me down with, Carter. Boxing knockout rules, however."

"Down for the count, sir?" she smiled, driving home a particularly harsh punch into the bag.

"Not me, Carter," he snapped back, not willing to concede even the verbal sparring. "Now, Carter, I really don't want to hurt you… you can throw in the towel at any time, you know."

"I hope this isn't a way of saying you are going to slack off, sir. I want you to hit me with everything you've got."

"Carter…" he sighed, reluctant to cause her pain.

"No 'Carter', sir. This is a serious match," she stopped punching the bag and looked him square in the eyes. "Promise me you won't hold back."

Jack stared her down. It went against everything in his being to cause this woman pain.

You got yourself into this, Jack old boy, his conscience reminded him. Jack frowned, and he hoped Sam didn't notice the pain flash across his features.

"Deal," he conceded finally, rapping his gloves against hers to seal the pact.

"Ready, sir?"

"As I'll ever be, Carter," he replied, as they both made their way onto the boxing mats.

It was at this time that twenty-odd members of the SGC filed into the room and took up positions around the outside of the ring. Jack glared at every single one of them, but no-one stepped forward to offer an explanation. Eventually, he threw his hands up in frustration.

"It appears we have an audience, Carter…"

"I've noticed, sir," she replied. Her blue eyes had lost their sparkle and were now hardened into the type of look she only had when she was blowing up motherships, taking on Mongol warlords, and all the other fun stuff she embroiled herself in on a regular basis. The audience, it seemed, didn't bother her. In fact, it seemed to Jack that she was excited at the prospect of performing for a crowd.

"Let's do it."