21: Interesting Times

It was apparent to John that the prospect of the mission ahead was one that had sent Jonas into an uncharacteristically morose mood. The Langaran scientist had shut himself up in his room, a modest space situated not far from the laboratories and workshops in which he had spent much of his time whilst staying at stargate command. It was evening now, and word had come down that they would depart for Langara in four hours, which left enough time for some rest and to gear up. John had noticed Jonas' mood sour during the initial briefing, when Major Kav'rak had given the details as to what crisis had befallen Langara. At first John had assumed it had something to do with the fact that it was Jonas' home that was falling into chaos. Yet, given some thought it seemed there was a bit more to it than that.

John stood out in the hall, deliberating whether he should go in and see the man. It seemed wise, seeing as how they would soon be out in the field together. He needed to know how each of his team members were faring, especially when it came to their state of mind. Everyone had to be on their best form, especially in what could easily become a life-or-death situation.

"You look conflicted, sir." A familiar woman's voice sounded from behind him. John turned around to find Elsie walking towards him. Like him, she wore a plain green battle-dress uniform. Her hair was tied back neatly, although it looked a little damp. She had likely just had a shower, and as was often the case with Lieutenant Rhodes, her curiosity had got the better of her as soon as she had sighted the Colonel loitering outside Jonas Quinn's room.

"I'm worried about Jonas," John said, and he motioned for the door before him. "This business about his home-world could be causing him some internal strife, you know?"

"I do, sir." Elsie stopped before him. "I'm sure he'll be happy to talk with you. I mean, you two are friends, aren't you?"

"Friendly enough, I guess." Beyond the odd assignment, he had not actually worked too frequently with Jonas. Most of his stay had seen him working within the SGC complex, with the occasional jaunt into the wide-open world to get some relief from the plain, winding tunnels of the underground facility.

"Daniel knows him better," John added. It sounded like more of an afterthought, really. He did not go in there because he did not feel that he knew Jonas well enough to go prying into his personal affairs. Nonetheless, he knew it had to be done, especially on the verge of the mission itself.

"Here, allow me, sir?" Elsie stepped forwards, raised a hand and knocked loudly upon the door. "Jonas, are you in there? It's Lieutenant Rhodes. I'm out here with Colonel Sheppard." To her credit, she spoke with confidence, even if she herself appeared a little unsure. "We'd like to talk about the mission." She then turned to John, giving him a shrug.

There was a pause, followed by the sound of footsteps before the lock on the other side of the door released and the handle turned. Jonas pulled it open, and somewhat surprisingly he did not look as downbeat as John had expected him to. He had even changed into a fresh uniform, no doubt in preparation for their journey to Langara.

"Colonel?" Jonas inquired, quirking a brow.

"Jonas, I was starting to get worried." John offered the Langaran an amiable look. "Are you all right? This is your home we're going to. It can't be easy, thinking about what's going on there."

Jonas did not reply, not right away. Instead, he stepped aside and motioned for him to enter. John did so, finding himself in a tidy set of living quarters that put his cluttered room to shame. Everything was neat and arranged in such a manner as to suggest a distinct order, from the books on the shelf at the left to the pairs of shoes tucked underneath the dresser at the right-hand wall. The desk was bare, and from the look of it the surface had recently been dusted. Jonas had been reading, judging from the book that had been left at the end of the bed.

Elsie gave Jonas a curious glance, and he nodded for her to come in as well. He made sure to close the door behind them, turning to face both officers.

"Sometimes it can be hard, being away from home," Jonas said. He strolled by John and sat down at the end of the bed. John watched him closely, trying to get a gauge on what he was thinking. He seemed normal enough. Still, there was the hint that there was something nagging at him underneath the otherwise affable exterior.

"I've had my problems with my people back home, Colonel, but at the end of the day it is my home. And what's happening now, those images the makalvari showed us…" He trailed off, shaking his head instead. "I don't think anyone deserves that kind of death."

"No, they don't." John spoke firmly. The thought of innocent lives ending in such a horrific way disturbed him deeply, as he suspected it would anyone else with even an ounce of empathy within them. "But we don't know the full details. We won't until we get there."

"That I know," Jonas said. Nearby, Elsie had taken to leaning against the desk, arms folded, her attention fixed firmly upon the pair.

"But seeing that man again…" He trailed off once more, and for a moment there he seemed to struggle to find the words. The usually light-hearted Jonas had disappeared suddenly, replaced with someone firmer, someone even wearier who had seen their share of bad things and had long since grown tired of it.

"Gorum Kavul?"

"He's a monster, like I said. But it's more than that." Jonas sighed, before he looked up at John again and fixed his eyes with his own. John was not all that good at the deeper, more personal topics of conversation and so he stood ahead of Jonas somewhat awkwardly. Now he was only beginning to feel increasingly self-conscious.

"After the Ori occupation ended, Gorum had developed a taste for the killing. He enjoyed it. Unlike most of us, who fought and killed only when necessary, Gorum went out of his way to kill and maim and torment." Jonas grabbed the book from behind him, a hardcover with text on its face and a spine that had words printed upon it in a language John did not recognize. It took him a moment to realise that it was Langaran, or rather Kelownan. Jonas opened the book, and from about the halfway mark he slipped a slightly dog-eared photograph that had been kept pressed between the pages. He held it up for John, who took it from him and examined the image closely.

There was Jonas, younger and happier looking. He stood before a cluster of trees, the sun-drenched greenery serving to further elevate the upbeat mood the photo portrayed. There was a woman with him with short, blonde hair who appeared much the same age he was. And between them, propped up in Jonas arms, was a child that looked to be barely more than a toddler. One with light brown, wavy hair and a rounded, pale complexion. A little girl.

"That was taken shortly after the occupation ended," Jonas said. Elsie walked over, her curiosity driving her to catch a glimpse of the photo herself. "We were so happy then. The worst was behind us, or so we thought."

"Is that your wife?" Elsie asked. John handed the picture back, and Jonas returned it to its place tucked between the pages of the thick hardcover.

"She was," Jonas said, and his voice took on a firmer edge. "And that was my daughter, the three-year-old between us. It was only months after she was born that the Ori arrived. Trying to raise a child in the middle of all that wasn't easy, but we did it. And when it was all over, I thought we'd be able to have a normal life again. For a while, we did. I went into politics, got elected as a district representative. Then the problems began with Gorum." He narrowed his eyes, the memories flooding back with startling vividness. "He was working for the separatists by that point. He built them bombs, elaborate ones that killed hundreds of innocent people. I was at the House of Assembly one afternoon when my wife came by to see me, and she had Lyla with her."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes." Jonas nodded his head. "My wife thought she'd surprise me with the visit, since I wasn't getting home until late some days because of the work. Thing is, Gorum and his separatist friends had smuggled a bomb into the House of Assembly earlier that day. When the initial afternoon rush began, with many of the staff preparing to head home for the day, the damn thing went off." He practically spat the words now, his anger at what had happened etched clear upon his hardened features. John swallowed, listening closely and once again finding himself unsure of just how he should act, or even what he might say. What could a man say to another who had lost everything?

"I was knocked out. It's from that explosion I got this scar." He pointed to the scar that ran down the left-hand side of his neck. "Shrapnel hit me in the neck. A little more to the left and it would have hit my artery and I would have bled to death."

"And your wife? Your daughter?" Elsie asked the question, despite the answer being obvious. Her hollow tone of voice indicated she knew just as well.

"They were killed instantly," Jonas answered. His voice wavered, but he swallowed and pressed on. He had had years to put this behind him, yet it was the kind of loss one did not simply move on from, no matter how many years had passed. "I made it my mission to bring Gorum to justice. It took me years, but I got him in the end. I stopped his reign of terror. I almost killed him, I had a gun to his head, I had him at my mercy."

"But you didn't kill him," John stated. "You didn't murder a man in cold blood because that's not the kind of person you are, Jonas." He felt that his words were feeble in the face of this man's loss. He felt they had to be said, nonetheless. "I don't think I would have been so forgiving, not like you were."

"And now he's out again," Jonas said, and his anger flared up suddenly. He rose to his feet and began pacing the room, back and forth, whilst he kept talking: "He's out again and he's killing again because I couldn't bring myself to kill him when I had the chance. And he's an even bigger threat than he was before. All this business with this plague? I'll bet big money he's involved with it, somehow."

"You saw a Herald on Langara," John said, recalling the report Jonas had made when he had first returned to the SGC nearly two years ago now. "They've been infiltrated. This plague could be their doing."

"But Gorum's involved with it somehow," Jonas insisted, and he paused in his pacing before he locked hard eyes upon John. This was the look of a man whose mind was made. Gorum was responsible, there would be no arguments about it where Jonas was concerned. The personal stake Jonas had in the mission cast doubt on whether he was suitable for it, yet it was the makalvari who wanted his assistance. Even if Janssen decided that it would be best if Jonas sat this one out, Major Kav'rak would simply step in and take Jonas for himself. After all, the man was not a prisoner here. He could come and go, and if he wanted to depart the SGC and work with the makalvari then no one would stop him.

"Does Janssen know about this?" Elsie asked, having been on much the same train of thought as John was.

"No, not many people do," Jonas answered. His initial burst of anger had died down now, returning him to a somewhat calmer state. This was the kind of man who tried to remain upbeat and optimistic no matter what the universe threw at him. Of course, the loss of loved ones was not so easily deflected by boyish enthusiasm and a hopeful attitude.

"He'd want me off the mission if he did, I suppose?" Jonas added, quickly.

"He might, but Major Kav'rak would bring you along anyway." John had to tread carefully here. Jonas' knowledge of Langara was the best they had on hand, so bringing him along was an obvious and sensible choice to make. Allowing Kav'rak to co-opt him for his own use on the mission? That was not as sensible, and it was at that moment that John decided to keep Jonas' personal loss quiet. No one else had to know, not even the other team members. This should not have been difficult, seeing as how Jonas had kept it to himself all this time.

"You know, John, I get the impression Kav'rak can't be trusted," Jonas said. "But I respect him, I do. He tries to do what's right by his people, even if that means screwing with everyone else."

"That might be so, but we'll have to be careful. Just like with Dalabrai." He locked gazes with Jonas again, attempting to look reassuring. "You know, Jonas, you can always talk to me. Hell, you can even talk with Lieutenant Rhodes here. She'll, at the very least, pretend to listen."

Elsie frowned at the remark but Jonas, as John had hoped, did smile.

"I need everyone on the team focussed," John added. "We'll get Gorum, I know we will. Even if it means we have to travel across the entirety of Langara to do it."

"I appreciate the encouragement, John, but Gorum isn't a man to be underestimated. He's just as smart as he is crazy. If he's in league with the Herald and the rest, then he'll be even more dangerous." Jonas sighed, the weight of the world finally reaching a point where he was struggling to hold it all up. "And we don't really know what we're getting into on Langara."

"It's probably worse than we've been told," John said. "Things usually are." He checked his watch then, frowning slightly. "We've got a few hours, so if I was you, Jonas, I'd rest a while. We'll gather at the armoury at twenty-two hundred hours."

Jonas nodded in acknowledgment. John, feeling that all had been said here that needed to be said, glanced at Elsie and gave her a nod. She started for the door, with John following. Jonas sat down at the end of the bed, returning to his previously dour appearance.

Never had John suspected that Jonas had so much loss behind him. It was a sharp contrast to how Daniel had described him as being during the earlier days of the stargate program, all eager to learn and always one to dive into a problem to tackle it head-on. The Jonas he left behind in his living quarters at this time was an older and much more world-weary individual, and it was the kind of person John could not help but feel some affinity for.

Daniel did not envy Janssen's job. The Brigadier General had a lot on his plate at the best of times, and recent months had seen the accumulation of problems reach a level that no one man should need to contend with.

Daniel found him standing at the window of the briefing room, looking down upon the stargate from above. The General had a mug of hot coffee in his hand and he sipped at it carefully, unwitting to Daniel's arrival.

"General Janssen?" Daniel stepped into the room, and the General turned his head. The place was quiet, the night shift having seen activity around the facility fall to a more subdued level. Janssen gave Daniel a small nod in greeting, before turning to face him proper.

"Something the matter, Doctor Jackson?"

"It was about Aithris' interview, sir. I was just informed…"

"Informed about the political machinations of a certain Thomas Banachek?" Janssen narrowed his eyes. "Believe me Daniel, I'm upset too. That man's becoming a real problem, and I suspect he intends on co-opting the stargate program altogether."

Daniel stopped a few paces ahead of the General, some confusion splaying across his face. They had about an hour before they were scheduled to depart for Langara, and in the meantime Daniel had had a thorough talk with Aithris about the so-called 'interview' that had occurred earlier today. He had thought, after they had thwarted the conspirators who had used Atlantis as a staging ground, that problems such as these would be at a minimum.

"I thought he lost his job after the loss of Anchorpoint?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, he did. He simply got a new one through the friends he has in Washington." Janssen strolled over to the head of the briefing room table. There, he set his mug down, a weary look crossing his face. "He wants control of the program, and he has the influence to try and get it. Aithris is little more than a curiosity to him, one he believes might get him an edge and increase his reputation. I have the ear of the President, something that Banachek lacks. So, I wouldn't worry about him. Not really."

Daniel frowned. He had long since become used to the bureaucratic mire that ran that stargate program and its many meddling politicians. Even so, problems such as this were a genuine cause for concern. Ever since the attack carried out by the mimetic aliens a few years ago, the stargate program had found a new lease of life. Increased funding, increased respect and, for better or worse, increased attention. Everyone wanted a piece of the action and some would go to incredible lengths to get it.

"As it stands, Homeworld Command is in charge of our interstellar fleet and Stargate Command operates somewhat independently of that," Janssen explained. "I suspect Banachek wishes to reorganize things, not that this will happen. Not if I'm around."

"And will you be, General?" Daniel had to ask, even if it seemed somewhat rude. "Will you be around?"

Janssen did not appear offended by the question. He simply glanced at Daniel, quirked an eyebrow in a thoughtful gesture and then scratched at the stubble on his chin. Here was a commanding officer totally unlike those previous, be it the stern but kind-hearted Hammond or the active, get-things-done attitude of Landry. Janssen was a different breed, a hard man but an ageing and increasingly tired man at that.

"For as long as I can possibly be, Daniel," Janssen replied. "Just like you, I'd imagine. And you've been around here longer than I have. One of the first, even."

"You don't sound too confident."

"That's because I'm not. Sometimes, I get the impression that the world is moving on without me. You ever feel that way, Daniel?" The General met his gaze, something wistful having appeared in his pale blue eyes. "That no matter what you do, things just slip away?"

"I just thought it was a symptom of getting old."

Janssen gave a small smile, but the look in his eyes remained serious.

"That, and the frequency of bathroom visits," he remarked. "There are problems in the world, Daniel, that are having an effect here. Diplomatic problems, most caused by what happened with Anchorpoint and the fleet. The Chinese and the Russians are starting their own versions of Homeworld Command and they're taking the few ships they have left with them. Our own allies threaten to sever ties, although I doubt many of them will follow through. Anchorpoint was a failure and it reflects on us, and it also allows men such as Banachek to take advantage."

"He was in charge of Anchorpoint."

"That doesn't matter, not in this world. Not with a man like him. What happened wasn't his fault anyway."

"So, the global alliances are coming apart?" Daniel had expected as much. He was surprised that it had not happened sooner. Much in the same way nuclear weapons had changed the geopolitical landscape to the point certain countries were unwilling to risk war with one another, so would the interstellar cruisers of which a handful remained.

"We need a united front to beat this thing," Janssen said. "We won't get that here. We'll get it with the Jaffa, or the makalvari or even the rebel Calsharans. But not here." He picked up his mug of coffee and took another sip. "People like Banachek will continue to spring up to try and bend the situation in a way favourable to them. I'll remain here, because I know that if I ever resign then the likes of Banachek and his friends will get what they want."

"Don't they know what's going on out there?" Daniel could not keep his voice from growing impassioned. "We can't be arguing amongst ourselves while the legions of Hell are storming the galaxy."

"I said as much to the President just the other day," Janssen replied. "He agreed, but you have to understand that there are things he doesn't have a say in, not really. Not when he's outnumbered and surrounded by people who would rather he be gone from office."

"It's not hopeless, General."

"I never said it was. Just that we're living on borrowed time with the way things are. I wouldn't expect any further visits from Banachek, not after what happened with Woolsey, but that doesn't mean he and his friends won't be able to interfere in other ways. I can only hope we win this fight before these men get their way." Janssen was caught in a difficult position, and it was only his direct contact with the President of the United States that had kept things going the way they had been the past few years. Of course, if that President were to leave office, even lose the next election, then anything might happen.

It infuriated Daniel, the thought that all their work here could be undermined and taken over so easily. It seemed few people these days actually worked for the greater good. Instead, it was all self-interest and powerplays to advance one's own position. As it stood, the stargate program remained secret, whereas the interstellar cruisers in the service of Earth's more powerful nations were publicly known. A compromise after the incident with the so-called 'foothold' aliens a few years ago, as their actions had almost blown the lid off of the entire operation. Would it be better if the stargate program itself became known, that the exploits of its many teams over the years would become public knowledge? Perhaps people might respect it more then, serving as a bulwark against the self-interested politicians and intelligence agency types who wanted to use it for their own ends. It was a thought, although it was not one Daniel voiced then and there. He wondered if Janssen had had the same idea, but he quelled that guess right away. Janssen would no doubt wish for continued secrecy. It made things easier, if one did not have to worry about public opinion.

"We live in interesting times, Daniel," Janssen added, his voice carrying a sardonic edge. "Very interesting times indeed."