"Am I crazy, or is the dialect different on this one?" Daniel pulled out a sheet of paper and held it carefully over the column in front of him as he rubbed it with charcoal. "I think it's newer."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "It tells of a mighty battle, and..."

The archaeologist glanced up as his teammate trailed off. "And what?"

"This world once belonged to Anubis."

"Anubis." Daniel blew out a breath. "God of mummification and the afterlife; patron god of lost souls."

"That is apt. Anubis has no soul," the Jaffa said tightly.

"For cryin' out loud, Teal'c, none of 'em do." Jack didn't particularly want to be part of this conversation, but it kept his attention off... other things. Things he didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"You obviously feel pretty strongly about him," Daniel offered. "What do you know?"

"Anubis was once merely a warlord in service to Apep," Teal'c explained.

Jack gave a blank look, and Daniel said, "Apep, the god of chaos and darkness. So, enemy of the sun god, Ra."

"Well, the enemy of my enemy, you know."

"Anubis rebelled," the Jaffa went on. "He killed his god. And ate him."

Jack and Daniel exchanged a look of various shades of disgust before the older man ventured dryly, "Tasty..."

"He believed he could become the supreme ruler – emperor above all System Lords. Ra gathered an army against him. The resulting war lasted for fifteen generations."

Jack did a little math. "Three hundred years. Ra won, I'm guessing."

"Indeed."

"So this guy's not exactly a problem anymore." He drew a finger across his neck.

"He has been banished."

Both humans blinked. "Banished? Not killed?" Daniel asked. "Banished where, exactly?"

"I do not know."

"See, I told you this stuff was useful," the archaeologist insisted to Jack.

He had a point – an angry ex-System Lord who'd fought Ra for centuries could be an issue with his enemy gone.

But the fact that Daniel had a point about this stuff was really, really irritating. And it meant they'd be staring at rocks more often. Biting back a sour retort, he opted to turn his attention outward.

And then he got really irritated. Because there she was, kneeling over a section of rock but not really looking at them, eyes closed. And for a second, he'd forgotten about that. He'd been trying to ignore it all damn morning, because he'd given her credit for her honesty just three hours before, and it turned out she was full of crap. She wasn't just not getting better, like she'd said. No, she was definitively worse than she'd been the day before, and it really pissed him off. He'd been trying to be nice to her, dammit, and that pissed him off even more. It wasn't his job to be nice. "Captain!" he snapped, earning a glance from the other two men before they went back to their discussion, "you look like you're dying."

"I'm good, sir," she called back.

And that just irritated him more. Because maybe she was. Maybe he was being ridiculous. He almost wished she were bleeding, or unconscious, or... something tangible. Something that would tell him this wasn't normal and it was time to head home. He knew how to triage someone; he knew how to give a field neuro exam after a head injury, but he knew absolutely nothing about this. And it irked the crap out of him.

"Are you up on your meds?" he demanded as he joined her at the edge of the stones.

She stood. Mostly. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"How much and when?"

"Uh... two, about an hour ago."

"Two hundred milligrams?"

"Apiece, yes, sir."

"Take two more."

She blinked. "Sir?"

"I take eight hundred for my knee, so it's obviously not gonna kill you. Maybe it'll even help," he pressed, sharp.

"Yes, sir." One hand waved vaguely over toward camp. "I'll have to, uh... I'm out."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Out out?" Good God, if this was what it was like with meds, what was it like without?

"No, no. Just... I didn't bring over the whole bottle. I figured I'd get more at lunch."

"Go," he dismissed, waving her toward her gear.

"Sorry, sir." The wince as she hurried away probably wasn't physical pain, and he tried to feel bad about making life worse for her and failed. A team was only as strong as its weakest link, and at the moment, she was undeniably it. For cryin' out loud, no wonder the Air Force didn't want women on the front lines, if they were gonna spend three days every month curled up in a ball. He watched, annoyed, as she knelt beside the pack sitting just outside the tent, popped two more pills in her mouth, and chased them with a drink from her canteen. Done, she stuck the bottle in her vest instead and started to push to her feet.

Agony ripped across her features as she sank again, hugging her knees to her chest, head down. She teetered a little, and for a moment, he thought she was about to pass out.

"All right, that is it," he growled, stalking toward her. "Daniel, pack your crap."

The archaeologist spun around and stared at him. "Huh?"

"You may not have noticed with your nose in the rocks, but your teammate is literally keeled over, and even if she can take it, I can't."

"Whoa, what?" They jogged to catch up with him. "Jack, what's going on?"

"Sir-"

"Pack your crap," he ordered. "We're going home."

"Please don't do that, sir," she begged, pushing to her feet – though not upright. "I'm fine, really."

"You can hardly stand up!" he shot back. "You should not be in the field right now. Not like this."

"I swear, by tomorrow-"

"You said that yesterday."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Captain, I have a duty of care to the people under my command. This isn't just a problem from a readiness perspective; do you get that?" he pressed. "I am responsible for the fact that you're in pain. I am responsible for the fallout of you being in pain. And I am done. We're taking you home where the doc can deal with this."

Swallowing hard, she stared at his feet, her words so soft Daniel and Teal'c stepped closer to hear. "Respectfully, sir, I am the only woman on a field team right now, and I practically had to murder people to get here. If you cancel the mission because of this, I will be the only one ever. They will never let another woman step through that Gate."

Maybe that was how it should be, if they couldn't hack it in the field. He opened his mouth to retort when Daniel said, "She's right, Jack."

He glanced at the archaeologist – just for a second – to tell him to butt out.

But his eyes caught the glasses and the shaggy hair and the book in the other man's hands, and he stopped short.

Because Daniel couldn't hack it in the field, either. No, Daniel was the saddest excuse for a soldier Jack had ever seen: bumbling and love-struck and damn near afraid of guns. And Jack didn't just put up with him – Jack had chosen him. Jack had fought for him.

In a team of "only" - the only alien, the only civilian – it seemed pretty damn petty to pick off the only woman. For something she couldn't even help. Especially when he knew she was right about the fallout. It would be bad enough for her in the rumor mill. But it would be a dead stop for anyone who wanted to follow in her footsteps.

Everything he knew said he should drag her home. For her health. For the team's safety.

He just wasn't sure he could be that big of an asshole. He'd driven a lot of nails in a lot of coffins in his life, but this one...

"I will carry Captain Carter's pack, if that is of assistance."

Jack eyed the Jaffa beside him with disdain for the betrayal. Daniel backed her, Teal'c backed her... "Fine," he relented. "You wanna be in pain? Be in pain."

Relief came out in a huff. "Thank you, sir."

Hands down, that was the weirdest thing anyone had ever thanked him for.