All right, let's see what trouble Jack has gotten himself into this time, shall we? Enjoy...

O'Neill couldn't concentrate on the dreaded paperwork. The walls were closing in on him, so he decided to go topside to get some fresh air. He reached his favorite spot and stared at the mountains, inhaling the cool air deeply into his lungs. It was a beautiful clear, cool day and he settled down trying to think. Was he okay? He knew he had numerous bruises across his chest and stomach. His ribs were definitely bruised, although not fractured. At least he hoped not. Why couldn't he remember what had happened? Everything seemed so jumbled and there were giant lapses. He knew he'd gone fishing but where and who with?

It felt like he had been drunk ---like a hangover, but it had been years since he'd been drunk like that. What the hell had he gotten into? Why would he have been in a fight? He knew he could have a bad temper, especially when he had been drinking, but he normally wouldn't get involved in a fistfight, would he? Jack rubbed his temples. God, all this thinking was giving him a headache. Maybe he should let Doc take a look at him. Well, he had a pre-mission check up tomorrow morning, so if he wasn't feeling better by then, he would have to tell her. Checking his watch, Jack realized he had a briefing to attend. He got up and headed back towards the elevators.

"Dr. Jackson, what information can you give us concerning these markings on the stairs leading to the Stargate?" The MALP had detected some very unusual writings on P4X217 and General Hammond knew the archaeologist had probably figured it out by now.

"Sir, they are…" Daniel started, but was interrupted by the klaxons, heralding the arrival of a team. The General rose to his feet and left the briefing room, the members of SG-1 following him closely.

They entered the Control Room where General Hammond gave his orders to the airman on duty. Apparently SG-5 was coming home, so the iris opened up and they all stood in front of the observation window to watch the team return. After the familiar welcome, the General decided it was time to continue the briefing.

Suddenly, Jack abruptly turned and walked towards the security guards stationed by the stairs. He appeared to be leaving. The remaining group turned and stared at him, unsure of the situation.

"Colonel O'Neill, we are not finished with the briefing," General Hammond called, as confused as the others.

O'Neill never looked back. He grabbed one of the guards by the arm and knocked the other down the stairs. Before anyone had a chance to react he had a gun in his hand. He tossed the remaining guard aside. Then, he held the weapon at arm's length, ready to fire. At the end of the line of fire stood a stunned General Hammond.

"Jack! God, what are you doing?" Daniel was frantic, thinking about approaching his friend to stop him, but afraid to do so.

"Sir," Sam tried to step closer to him. She took in the confused expression on her CO's face, the distant gaze in his eyes and the slight trembling of his hand. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. The blonde Major realized how dangerous this situation was.

"Fight it, Sir. You can do it," she urged, keeping her voice steady and firm. She needed to distract him long enough for Teal'c to make his way around the Colonel, so he could approach him from behind. From the corner of her eye she spotted several guards having positioned themselves on the stairs; weapons drawn ready to fire.

O'Neill appeared to be struggling, his eyes glancing from one side to the other, but locking back on his target once more.

"Hold your fire!" Hammond told the guards, determined to defuse this situation before his 2IC got injured or killed.

He hooked his eyes on the Colonel, who hadn't spoken a word since this had started. "Colonel, put that gun down. That's an order," Hammond said out loud.

The guards didn't move, keeping their weapons aimed, ready to respond to anything. The Colonel didn't as much as blink an eye. He gave no response.

"Put it down, Jack. You are trained to beat this," the General urged. "Put. It. Down."

Teal'c made slow progress in his attempt to move around O'Neill, planning to jump on him and secure him on the floor as soon as he reached a proper position.

Jack was fighting a battle inside his head. He detected people trying to move closer to him. He somehow knew them; he also knew that voice and wanted to obey the order. On the other hand something was telling him he needed to kill this man, another order he wanted to obey.

"Fight it, Sir," he heard a woman's voice. He knew that voice. It was a familiar voice.

He had to fight it.

He could do that. He was trained to do that.

Fight what?

He had his orders.

Kill this man…

Put the gun down.

He tried to shake the unnerving feeling, to get rid of the fog that seemed to have settled in his brain. He glanced at the big Jaffa who was slowly moving around him. He knew that man. He was a friend, right?

Why was he moving around him then?

He stretched his arm a little further, threatening, and felt the guards on the stairs react similarly. The man who was supposed to be his friend had stopped.

He glared at the man at gunpoint. The man who'd told him to put the gun down.

Kill this man.

No! Obey his orders. He was his Commanding Officer and his friend.

God. What a mess.

"Sir." Was that his own voice? He didn't even recognize it. The voice was so low, lacking every emotion. He forced himself to end this situation. He pivoted, aiming his weapon at the guards on the stairs.

Somebody hollered, "Don't shoot!" One guard couldn't control his nerves and pulled the trigger. Sam dragged the General to one side, out of the line of fire.

Teal'c dove forward as the shot rang out.

He was too late.

Oh-uh. That didn't look good, did it? And it was short, I know, but it was a good place to stop.

Want to know what happened? Stay tuned for the next chapter!