A/N: TW: Mention of Brief Candle (Jack / Kynthia), and the r-word. :|
Their leader just consented to be addressed by his first name — his real first name, which is only discovered in governmental papers, mind you. It's almost as if he and Isteno are revealing themselves to the other.
What's going on?
It's as if the team senses telepathy, remembering the same thing. Sam jolts in her seat, recalling when Kinsey called her CO by his birth name during his "interest" meeting regarding the Stargate Program and the latter man's reaction. Let's not have that ever happen again, shall we?
Case in point: That name is haunted.
Collectively, the three stooges acquiesce that something must be amiss because all of this is remarkably unusual. They've been off-world to numerous planets and are cordial with countless societies, yet none has ever undisclosed more of themself than necessary. SG-1, especially the colonel, has learned from past missteps, particularly encountering an alien STD while roofied and being raped by a woman.
You best believe that when ol' doc Fraiser studied each member's file on the SGC's front-line team, she quickly requested the colonel's presence in her office and laid it on the table for him. After what felt like an eternity, one of the Special Forces stationed in the medical corridor opened the door to the CMO's office, and the leader of SG-1 vacated in bafflement. Since that day, Jack's moniker for the tiny, feisty chief medical officer is Napoleon (or NPM for Napoleonic Power Monger).
The 672 may answer questions. Like clockwork, all the big names and brass members will surround the table with SG-1, aiming to deem noteworthy. Sam and Jack will adore their crisp and steamed dress blues; Teal'c and Daniel will have on their Sunday's Best suits; the colonel will sit at the head of the table, and — yeah, this is going to be a disaster, and it hasn't even ensued.
Let's leave that for when the time comes.
Are Jack and Isteno . . . friends?
When the alarm system blasted, signaling the activation of the chappa'ai, Isteno decided to suspend Q'uobik's decision to raise the protection details for the four hydris after viewing the screen on her sleeve and regarding the colonel in his opposing attire. A staron ranks higher than an axmin, so her justification for overruling was that one of the hydris looked familiar, like someone she'd seen before or knew of through the grapevine.
Now that Isteno considers it, that's precisely it: she knows Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill because of his fanned name and offense through the Galaxy. He is the Tau'ri slayer of the fearsome Ra and his bride, Hathor. Alongside the fact, the man is an evolved xastralion, the first of his kind, and just recently constructed an Ancient instrument to travel to an extended planet. It's probably unexpecting, but he's got a reputation for being rugged, fussed, and illustrious through the 'gate.
The Gate Builders have technology identical to the Asgards' that's adjusted to surveilling their stowed head-suckers (or whatever the technical wording is) throughout the Galaxy. Their system was triggered when the colonel inserted his head into the contraption, and his brain became overwhelmed and loaded with the information stored in the device.
The rendezvous had nothing to do with the Cyrians, and the only cause of Isteno knowing of it is that her friend, an Ancient named Jogicna, gossiped about it. So, that was that, and, interestingly, Jogicna told Isteno that they were aware of the activation yet didn't do anything since the head-suckers were on the territories of Ascended Ancients. The Ancient also stated that the likelihood of a non-Ancient using the machine and surviving was slim to none, which poses underlining tones of death to anyone's reigning curiosity when facing the found gizmo on a wall.
In the colonel's case, he possesses the Ancient gene, which qualified him to operate as such. However, he was foreign to anything of the Race. Napoleon expressed that his brain was overloaded to a capacity beyond the Tau'ri, and his time living waned if he didn't hurriedly acclimate.
SG-1's meeting with the Ancient head-sucking gizmo is intriguing. The order of occurrences with the front-line team is as follows: Jack strode into the ring, triggering the contraption to escape from the wall, which led Teal'c to seek the machine; the Big Guy informs his leader that he saw lights. Jack saw lights, too, yet the rays boosted throughout his being and temporarily paralyzed his body, and the remaining SG-1 dubbed 'mission failure' and returned to Command. One inquiry is whether the order of team members standing in the circle on the solid ground and later pocking their heads into the device's opening is essential.
Why does Isteno want to befriend someone who's a zilro specializing in slaying on his home planet and through the 'gate? Why does she want to put herself in a position of affinity with someone who is a Wanted man? Just like Jack, she doesn't know how to explain it.
The Cyrian resumes her round around the room, connecting the straps and wires to their correct location. Completing, she steps upwards on the two steps leading to the control system near the door, delivers a five-count, and presses the power button. Like at Tau'ri amusement parks with extensive rollercoasters, the pods rise and slant backward, and the covering encloses the pod. A mist fills the inside, and Isteno instructed beforehand for SG-1 to close their eyes and breathe regularly. After about three minutes, the procedure concludes, the covering rise, and the sashes unfasten themselves. Faint aerosol fog fills the room from the four pods, falling and dissipating through the grating.
It's a sense of déjà vu as the colonel leaps from the pod, releasing a series of two coughs, his heavy boots thudding on the grated floor. The campers follow suit, though more leisurely than their leader.
"Wow!" exclaims Jack through a few more coughs, his eyes seemingly unfocused. The Big Guy has a similar reaction, though not Sam or Daniel.
How fascinating.
Sam stands between the colonel and Teal'c and lightly pats their backs as they clear their throat. Daniel has that typical questioning expression, wondering why he doesn't feel as affected as the other men.
Worry not: Isteno intended for this to happen.
"A few ordinances were bypassed for this procedure," announces Isteno, her hands clasped on her abdomen. She waits for a moment, almost as if pursuing a routine. A silver-haired man with a nametag reading Myt'eol wordlessly enters the room with a tray of mysterious liquid in small cylinders and distinguishes them to SG-1 before exiting. Jack eyed the stranger as he entered and exited, perhaps with a sixth sense. The team stands kind-of awkwardly, drink in hand, and not knowing what to do; the excuse of the campers is that they're waiting for the go-ahead from their leader. All four down the liquid, which, interestingly, has a tropical fruit taste.
Isteno stands in the middle of the room, addressing the four towering members. Wow, Tau'ri people are giants. She stomachs the impulse to stand on the control room panel's steps to make herself appear taller.
"Daniel Jackson and Captain Samantha Carter, you don't have any association with a Race; therefore, you were unaffected by the procedure. Teal'c, you are a former First Prime to System Lord Apophis; that should explain itself. And you, Jonathan O'Neill, are a fascinating matter. You may possess the ATA gene from a taeshkos descendant from years ago, either recently or millennia ago, thus passing it to you on the Tau'ri planet. The mastria have a revised process for our Ancient kidigos and others. In this scenario, you possess their gene by operating a'sefi as a rare xastralion. Because you're a team hailing from Tau'ri called SG-1, we circumvented those individual restrictions to resume the process, which, unfortunately, has minor side effects," clarifies the Cyrian woman, her eyes scanning the members for any reaction (which isn't easily recognizable because the team is trained to repress their sentiments, especially off-world, to strengthen hypervigilance).
Sometimes, however, when they're carefree with courteous societies, they'd drop the barrier; this isn't one of those occasions. It's not a knock at the Cyrians; this milk-run has suggested something unbecoming surrounding the leader of SG-1. They'll get to the bottom of this before it's too late. Hopefully.
That Sam is curious about her CO's upcoming is an understatement. If all goes smoothly, the 672 should fill in the blanks. The captain reminisces about her first off-world mission on the SG-1 team and how relaxed the colonel was on Abydos and in its heat. As she takes a guess, he probably felt a homely sensation, like his childhood living in North Africa (and not in the bipolar weather of Chicago or Minnesota). Though layered in protective sunscreen, the Abydos sun beat almighty on its minions, and the colonel's skin caramelized to a darker shade of brown. He was content, though, all toothy smiles and laughter with Skaara and the fellow Abydosians.
The colonel and the captain's closeness on their first journey off-world is forever memorable, especially when the blonde became sunburnt, and she and the senior soldier excused themselves so that he could apply soothing ointment to her skin. And then some.
From the beginning, he really did already adore her — and meant it.
Sam hopes she's not seen as odd by goggling at the side of his head as she veers from her memories and back to reality. His coughs have long been suppressed, yet her left-hand slides down midway around his body; her right hand is on Teal'c left shoulder to counter the almost-too-intimate gesture with her commanding officer. It's one of her favorite features of him — his waist (and thighs and plush backside). She knows he doesn't mind; this isn't the first time.
The captain gazes upwards and meets the colonel's eyes, his dimples poking out with a know-it-all expression.
Aw, Hell to the holiest of Hannah's.
How long was he looking at her?
And when did her hand begin caressing the curves of his waist?!