Washington DC

General Jack O' Neill couldn't concentrate. The envoy from China was a pleasant, earnest chap, with a lot of very interesting things to say about security and the like... and Jack hadn't heard more than one word in ten.

His mind was taken up with other things. Since the death of George Hammond, a couple of months ago, he had had a looming sense of his own mortality, coupled with a fear that he was letting time slip away from him. It had suddenly become important to cement his relationships. Let's be honest, to cement one, vital relationship. And he thought he knew how to do it. He let out a deep sigh, startling the envoy, who jumped.

"General O'Neill? Are you unwell? Can I pass you some water?"

Waving off the solicitude and the profferred water jug, Jack was vastly relieved to see Hank's form looming in his doorway.

"No, no, I'm fine, sorry... ah, General Landry! Do come in. No no, not at all," bowing slightly to the envoy" "Mr Cheung, if you would be so kind as to excuse us. Perhaps we can continue this tomorrow? I do have the beginnings of a rather nasty headache..."

Envoy Cheung, bowing politely in turn, was borne out the door and, bewildered, found himself in the corridor as the door to General O'Neill's office was shut firmly in his face. Having had past experience of Jack O'Neill, however, he accepted his exit philosophically, and with little more than a sigh, headed for his next appointment.

Inside Jack's office, Hank was chuckling at the picture presented. "Really Jack, your diplomacy skills haven't improved noticeably over the last few years." He settled himself into the guest chair, and surveyed the man slumped before him. "Now, what did you need to see me about? I gather it's urgent?"

His fellow General straightened up and sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Not really urgent as such, Hank, just wanted to let you know. I'm officially retiring next week. Letter signed, sealed and delivered."

Hank Landry raised an eyebrow and poured himself a glass of water from the jug "Again? How many times you have tried this gambit, Jack?"

His friend chuckled, then sighed. "Yeah... it's become a bit of a joke really. Thing is, this time, for possibly the first and last time ever, my wishes and those of the IOA coincide." He grimaced.

"I want to finally pin Carter down and ask her to marry me, without jeopardising her career."

Hank cocked his head, then nodded reluctantly. It was a fact of life.

"I appreciate the don't ask- don't tell attitude we've been extended for the last few years, but hell, I want to tell dammit! Then the IOA have been pestering me - they want me in a civilian consultant role. It'll pay top dollar, which would be a change" wry grimaces exchanged here " AND it would put me back in the SGC". He paused. "So, much as I hate to give an inch to those bastards, it would suit all round."

There was a pause, then Hank reached over the desk and opened the drawer, taking out the half jack of excellent single malt Irish whiskey nestled discreetly amongst the paper.

"It sure seems to , Jack. " He pulled up another glass. "Let's drink to your rosy future!" He grinned, pouring a healthy tot into each glass.

"Oh, but Jack?" Jack's eyes were on the glass; he protested wordlessly by placing his hand over the top as Hank got over generous "Hmm?"

"Less of the 'bastards" now, hey? Those bastards being your new employers and all!"

Grinning, they clinked glasses, and sipped the malt down.

The chat had turned convivial as the sun set outside the office; Hank was recalling how Kim had responded to his (second) marriage proposal, and how nervous he had been been the day of his wedding. Jack was laughing at the picture he evoked of Carolyn Lam, doctor extraodinaire, rushing between her parents, getting progressively crosser as their nerves increased, when the phone rang.

"Carter! we were just chatting about you all." He motioned an 'excuse me' to Hank, and settled back, only to be reduced to a frown by her next words. "What? Have they made contact? Wait, Hank's here. I'm putting you on speaker phone."

"Sir" Carter's voice sounded tinny relayed through the tiny speaker. "We have a bit of a situation here."

Hank was all business, the whisky forgotten. "Carry on Colonel."

"Well, it's a small fleet of ships, and they appear to be ex-Lucian Alliance."

Jack and Hank exchanged glances, and Jack swore quietly under his breath. Hank looked just as disgruntled; he leant in towards the phone.

"I wondered if we'd seen the end of that lot, Colonel. Have they made any demands?"

"Not as such." Even through the phone speaker, Jack could tell she was worried. "They sent a message saying that they intend to operate within the Milky Way as before, selling kassa, and that they intend to reclaim the planets we liberated from their influence after the Ori War. They seem to think that we can't stop them."

Jack and Hank snorted, in unison. "Well, they have another think coming then, Colonel."Landry glanced at his watch.

"We'll be with you in three hours. Hold the fort till then, and we'll bring in the cavalry."

He headed for the door. Jack took a moment to lean over and say into the phone "Bye Sam" before he broke the connection, grabbed his jacket and his cell, and followed Hank out.