Teal'c's eyes dart between the colonel and the captain, noting the woman's uneasiness and the man's rampant recoil.

This won't do. If anyone is going to restore semblance, then it will be him, goddamn it.

"Back away further, O'Neill," commands the assuming leader with a disproving facial expression, his left hand firmly planted on the other man's chest as he pushes him away. He glances at Tommen, who remains on the floor, before gleaming at his friend again.

Jack doesn't know what to do; he doesn't know whether to gaze at Sam, beat his temples, or yield. Somehow, he's currently doing a mixture of all of the above.

The pain is magnificent. It reminds him of Iran, Iraq, and other wielding instances. It reminds him of his childhood and upbringing in various countries, states, and cities as he defied to fend for himself and his family. No amount of sarcophaguses and self-healing antidotes can erase the evidence of past broken bones, scars, burns, blemishes, and overall history from his body.

It's been a long time since he's felt this way. His attempts at control persist in failing, and he desperately wants to surrender.

"Jack, stop. Go by one of the windows," insists Daniel as he rubs a hand over his face. He's standing in the middle of the room with Jack and Teal'c on the left and Sam, Isteno, and Q'uobik on the right. The archeologist doesn't know what to make of the last few minutes with his friend and the Rith of Cyria or how it came to be. He misgives, classifying the unforgivable moment as something that he possibly could've averted in the total degree of a military attitude, especially with the colonel relinquishing leadership to Teal'c.

Respectively, Daniel ponders if Jack has a mental disorder that corresponds with his episodes. From the top of his head, he eliminates the possibility of Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED) because he views his friend's spirals and episodes as a consequence of something — an action, someone, etcetera — rather than irregular outrage at anything of the nine. As a scientist, he acknowledges the need for additional, unbiased data and evidence. Furthermore, he ponders if it may be neurotic or pathological and the option of it being the repression and aftereffect of PTSD.

He desires not to confess, but he knows something about Jack's downward spirals, episodes, and the coinciding violent and aggressive temperament that comes with it. Unfortunately for the scientist, he recalls the tandem of the colonel and their former teammate Kawalsky leashing Hell through the 'gate and Earthside. He recalls the duo constantly being reprimanded by their former commander and being sidelined as punishment, wherefore they disturb the Mountain's peace from the SGC facilities to the joint NORAD facilities on the upper floors. And, dreadfully, he'll never overlook that they were Black Ops teammates and were repetitively being recalled to action too many times. He understands that the colonel and major had a past even before that, to the point that Jack's son was named after him.

Q'uobik presses buttons on the transparent screen on his sleeve to contact the boshkik — doctor/medical personnel — to tend to Tommen, who remains sitting pathetically on the floor, now with his elbows draped over his bent knees. His attire, once crisp and vibrant-colored, is now in disarray and is sprinkled with blood.

The colonel inhales a few irregular breaths, his chest rising and falling much too quickly to be healthy. He's trying to skim around over the broad shoulders of Teal'c for the captain but can't find her.

Where's Sam?

"T, where's Sam?" feebly rasps Jack in the brief window of sensibility that he can muster. He's squeezing his eyes shut, and the expression on his face signs that he may be in cognitive discomfort as if he's fighting something. He and the Big Guy are by the middle window, but their excitement for Cyria's planet and establishments is paused, so they disregard the view before them.

The Jaffa exercises the question, taking the opportunity to deem his friend. The man standing before him is chaotic, though not equal to Tommen. His hair and forehead are sweaty, and his skin is flushed with a deep brown. Without his belt, his pants slump loosely on his hips, and his dark-scarlet top is untucked and slightly wrinkled. This isn't the man Teal'c knows.

"She is with Isteno, O'Neill," responds Teal'c, leaving no room for questions, comments, or concerns. The colonel nods, knowing that the stern demeanor of his comrade isn't from the assuming leadership position but as a friend.

On the other side of the main room are the captain and the axmin. Eh, well, they're technically not in the main room but in an adjoining room since Isteno grasped Sam's left hand and performed dreamshadow, but close. You can hear the women from the main room if you're silent and know what you're listening for. Oh, and Isteno could've just separated Sam from the situation, but it's not every day that she gets to astound hydris with i'claend-sons — the Power of the Mastria — so she utilized hurora, and that's that. The axmin's youth is more than likely showcasing her actions, but it isn't in contempt by the others since they've got bigger fish to fry.

The lift tolls, and a man and two women exit with presumed Cyrian medical supplies, with their nametags reading Jupell, Kadath, and Sorla. As the trio nears, the staron wordlessly points to Tommen, and they're straining not to react to one of their commanders being bloodied with hydris looming about.

The archeologist stands alone as the remaining member SG-1 with Sam, Teal'c, and Jack away. Though they've stirred from their objectives with the Cyrians, he knows it wasn't entirely the colonel's fault, and the man acted on self-protection from the rith's attack.

Clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses, Daniel diplomatically expresses, "Q'uobik, I would like to apologize for the dispute of the past few minutes. Please understand that the essence of Jack's call-and-response resulted from Tommen's verbal and near-physical attack and nothing more. I'm sure he didn't mean to go so thoroughly in," the end fades into a mumble. As it may, he looks confidently at the staron again, "But I wouldn't categorize first impressions with the colonel and the rith as the overall perception of the achievable Earth-Cyria alliance."

The staron silently contemplates the appeal, gazing at Rith-Tommen being tended to on the floor and at Jack by the window. He doesn't know how to respond. When he arrived at the main room and the axmin introduced the four hydris to him and Tommen, he was silently astonished that someone like Jack O'Neill and his companions would voyage to Cyria out of the endless planets throughout the far Galaxy. Axmin-Isteno advanced the colonel's accolade of being the slayer of Ra and Hathor, two beings who had it coming if you ask him. The gripping homage surrounding him that stuns Q'uobik is that he's a xastralion, a rare species that's only been talked about and never seen until now, with a connection to his planet and the Ancients.

Surprisingly, Tommen didn't match his sentiments.

"Thank you, Daniel Jackson," responds the staron with a courteous nod and cannot complete his sentiments due to interruption.

"No, no, no," intrudes Tommen as he pushes the hands of the boshkik's away. He sluggishly rises to his feet, dismissing Kadath's attempt to continue her duty with his injuries. "They shouldn't be here. This isn't right."

"What isn't, Tommen, if you don't mind my asking?" asks Daniel with a frown. He remembers the word the rith used against his friend with underlying tones of slang or swearword, which resulted in Jack relinquishing his leadership to Teal'c and isolating himself from the rith. As the newly-discovered xastralion, the colonel likely knows the meaning behind the word, seeing as he's successfully comprehended prior Cyrios inscriptions.

Tommen hobbles with a grimace, a hand clutching his midsection. "He," he harshly points at Jack over Daniel's shoulder with a volume raised to taunt said man, "is a zilro and isn't permitted here. They're sinful and wicked, and I won't stand by it."

"Go to Hell," sneers Jack from the window with a shake of his head. They're in this situation because of Tommen, and he'll be damned if he's to solely blame or for their potential relations with Cyria to cease because of the circumstance. He dismisses Teal'c's refuting gaze.

God, what a mess this is. He's not prepared for the outburst with Hammond and others, and he already knows that the man won't see him as he defends himself and his team. This was supposed to be a simple diplomatic milk-run to barter and acquire a new collaboration, yet they were unsuccessful on both sides.

"He only reacted to your misgivings," defends Daniel. "You tried to attack him, which caused him to defend himself and fight you back and then some. You can't do that where we're from, especially with someone like him."

"Where I'm from, my misgivings," recites Tommen, "are proper and faithful, Daniel Jackson. He's a zilro, someone I detest, and I no-longer want him on my planet."

Tommen begins quickly pressing buttons on his sleeve's screen, ignoring Q'uobik's attempt at appeasing him and overriding whatever code is inserted into the system.

Unfortunately, the power of authority is flawed with the absence of Isteno.

Speaking of the axmin, where has she and the captain disappeared to?

A blasting alarm sounds and a red hue overlays the surrounding surfaces. Q'uobik sighs, shaking his head, and momentarily turns away. Before doing so, he sent an apologetic regard to Daniel. He was too late with his crack at overriding the code.

Six people materialize in the main room, adoring dim, shielding armor and carrying weapons.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill of the Tau'ri, under the submission of Cyria's Rith, you are prohibited from Cyria and are ordered to vacate," sounds one man standing before Jack with the others supporting him from a few steps back. He must be the leader, supposes Jack as he regards Svelam, the nametag reads, and the barrel of the avant, destructive-looking weapon.

Sweet.

The room is grave with hush and stillness. All eyes are on Jack by the window, his back to Cyria's outside domain.

No-one is set for what happens next, not even the remaining members of SG-1.

The colonel seizes the weapon from Svelam's hands and speedingly directs the barrel at him swiftly and expertly, unlike any other. Teal'c takes an unexpected step back, a straightforward confirmation that the man he once knew is in another selfhood.

Jack is in a standoff with Cyria's protection detail, one versus six.

He hears his teammates call to him: an O'Neill from Teal'c; a Jack! from Daniel.

Tommen, ever the bothersome someone, scuffs, "This is the person we were going to ally with? He's reckless."

It's unclear if the rith wanted the colonel to hear his sly comment, yet the man did.

And now Cyria's rith is peering at the barrel of the weapon.

The tables have turned.


A/N: Uh, oh. And what are Isteno and Sam up to?