The Art of War

                                                        By Biltong.

A missile attack through the wormhole has dire consequences for everyone in the gateroom..

My day went to hell in a handbasket at precisely 22H02 pm, although I wasn’t to know that at the time, which was just as well, considering the pain and angst that followed.

As it was, that day, Friday the thirteenth, of course, started exceptionally well.

I woke up on time, was at the SGC extra early, and because I was so early, I had the canteen to myself and was able to choose anything I liked. I settled on bacon and eggs, feeling completely guilt free – for a while.

The rest of the day proceeded in a similar vein.

I had managed to visit Daniel just as his coveted vanilla roast coffee had finished percolating, forcing the man into offering me a cup, and had somehow found a games folder on Carter’s computer whilst she wasn’t looking and had spent an entertaining half hour playing sexy solitaire – something I would definitely take her up about as soon as her experiments into the explosive aspects of liquid Naquadah were finished - just in case her hand slipped or something.

Even teaching Teal’c’s class had provided a pleasant distraction, especially when I managed to pin his best student to the mat during one of their daily sessions in Nigo’ah’. This was the first time that Teal’c had allowed me to teach his class without him supervising, and I felt I had made a good impression.

Making a mental note to inform Teal’c on just how easily it had been to teach when he finally returned from the winter wonderland of MY9 yadda yaddas yaddah, I had dismissed the class and hit the showers.

The rest of the day had passed in an equally pleasant buzz, and I had the satisfaction of seeing my happy mood rub off on others.

That is why, when the hour of 22H00 arrived, the fates found me in the control room, leaning over Sergeant Davies and staring down at the open wormhole, a pleased smile still plastered on my face.

The Nox were calling.

"Lya?" I asked, almost clapping his hands with delight when Davis nodded.

"Yes sir." The short balding man nodded at the screen. "Her ID is confirmed."

"The Nox," I said happily. "My most favoritist kinda people." Swiveling on my heel, I watched as the wormhole soon stabilized into a pool of shimmering blue.

"This is good."

…

I smiled. A happy Jack O’Neill was a rare thing to see.

Looking up from my monitor I too watched the shimmering event horizon.

And waited.

Five minutes soon came ten, and Colonel O’Neill, never the most patient of people, shifted irritably, his pleased look fading.

"Where are they?" he muttered, something that I really wished I could answer.

"I dunno sir," I said unhappily. "But if they don’t come through soon the wormhole will disintegrate."

"I know that," the Colonel sighed. "I knew this day was too good to last," he said sotto voice.

I pretended not to hear that. I tapped his monitor. "The ID definitely said Nox, sir," I said adamantly. "That I assure you."

"Don’t doubt it for a moment, Gary," O’Neill said, his face and hair silvered by the open wormhole. "It’s just that the Nox have never kept us waiting before." He pursed his lips before coming to a decision. "Something’s wrong." He rounded on me. "Close the wormhole, and call in SG3."

I nodded, aware that he was dying to go himself, but tied by the fact that with General Hammond off base, he was the senior officer in charge.

"SG3 on route," I said, tapping the F3 key, a neat little shortcut Major Carter had devised a while ago.

He smiled again, suddenly all action. "I don’t know what’s happened to the Nox, but seeing as they contacted us, it’s only polite that we respond."

He patted me on the shoulder. "Now, collapse that wormhole."

"Yessir," I said, only to stiffen in surprise.

"No need sir. We finally have an incoming traveler."

I hastily pulled my hand away from the keyboard, my face pasty. A few seconds earlier and whomever was en-route would have been gone for good.

O’Neill’s hand clapped me on the back. "Fast reactions, Sergeant," he murmured, the small gesture making me feel good. It was very rare indeed that anyone noticed just what I did in the control room. Staring down at my computer I allowed myself a small indulgent smile, one that was instantly stripped from my face the moment I noticed the monitor readings.

Oh shit.

"Incoming!" I swear I yelled that so hard that even the guards on the gateroom floor heard me.

"Incoming bogie!"

Whatever it was that was coming through the gate had a high metallic content.

"What?" O’Neill snapped, staring at me.

"Missile," I gasped aloud, my fingers flying towards the escape key, another shortcut designed by Major Carter to instantly activate the iris mechanism in case of an emergency.

And by Christ Himself this was an emergency.

"Non human sir," I cried out, loud and clear. "Incoming missile."

"Crap!"

I was gratified to see Colonel O’Neill instantly slam his hand down on the button that slid the titanium shield over the control room windows.

"You certain?" O’Neill snapped in the little time we had left.

"Positive," I screamed and dived for the floor, my C.O. joining me there with an oath a nanosecond later.

Despite the mere seconds we took from sensing danger to carrying out preventative measures, we were already too late.

Way too late.

I watched as a fiery rocket slid through the rapidly diminishing gap in the iris, it’s Naquadah core bathing the gateroom in a surreal aquamarine glow, had anyone besides me been in a position to look. No one had been. The guards down below on the gateroom floor were already diving for cover – any cover, and as for the control room, well, the blast door was almost shut.

Just a sliver remained, diminishing rapidly as I watched.

We had worked with commendable speed, the Colonel and I, but the rocket was faster than we ever could be. Almost as if it had been programmed to do so, the pretty yet oh so deadly missile zeroed in on the tiny section of glass still exposed.

And detonated.

"What the heck?"

I stared at the coffee gently vibrating in my cup with wide eyes before instantly leaping to my feet and heading for the office door. Something very powerful had just exploded on one of the levels below my feet.

It had to have been in the gateroom.

There could be no other explanation.

Oh. My. God.

Jack had to have been there.

"God damn it."

The elevator ride took years, and opened up on the first floor of Hell.

‘What on Earth?"

"Stay right where you are Doctor Jackson." I couldn’t see him past all the smoke, but I would know that voice anywhere.

"Colonel Van Ryn? Zack? Where are you?" My eyes were watering and I was coughing harshly, desperately trying to breathe the thick atmosphere.

Something soft was thrust into my hand. "Here, hold this to your face until the smoke clears." I nodded my thanks, trying desperately to control my diaphragm. God, the stuff was vile - and smelt worse.

Blinking rapidly, my nose buried in what turned out to be a wad of rags, I finally made out the corridor outside the gateroom, and espied six figures, all of whom, like me, had their faces buried in articles of clothing.

"Jackson, you okay?"

A figure detached itself from the wall and I saw the blonde hair of Colonel Van Ryn.

"..K" I gasped, and then stiffened with a gulp. Through the thinning smoke I could see the entranceway into the gateroom, and what I was seeing shocked me to the core.

"Holy…"

Van Ryn nodded. "Seeing as you obviously have enough oxygen now, come and help us out."

He jerked a thumb at the blast doors leading into the gateroom. "As you can see, this requires all the help we can get."

The huge blast doors were curled towards us, like the petals of some huge macabre flower. Something - some explosion - had warped the meters thick doors into something almost unrecognizable, and the magnitude of that was almost too much for my brain to take.

"Jackson, move it or lose it," a familiar voice snapped, and I spun to face Van Ryn’s second, Major Kyle. "We’ve got bodies to find."

That froze me to the spot. Bodies.

"Where’s Jack?" I demanded; my voice tight.

Kyle refused to answer, so I whirled on Van Ryn again.

"Where in the hell is Jack?"

………

I regarded the tall civilian briefly, before coming to a decision. My friend had trained this one well, and he deserved to know what had happened.

I jerked a furious thumb at the demolished gateroom.

"In there."

I watched impassively as Jackson carefully peered inside, taking in the smashed chunks of concrete and twisted shards of steel. I knew that there were no signs of the control room at all and even what was left of the briefing room situated above was reduced to an almost unrecognizable ruin.

To his credit, he held his composure, and went up a notch in my estimation.

"General Hammond?" his voice was cool and steady, his eyes direct.

"- Is on his way in," I finished.

Jackson nodded again, his face turning hard, almost as if he were assessing the situation. He had been through a lot in his young life, this man had, and once again I wished that he had been military. He would have made a damn fine officer.

I was right. He had been assessing the situation.

"I have access to two massive arc lamps. They’re on loan from the University of Colorado, but I don’t think they’ll mind if we use them for this." He looked at me, awaiting my order, just like the soldier he had unknowingly become.

"Where are they?" I said.

"Stores," he replied. "We can have them up here and on within 10 minutes."

"Do it," I said.

He nodded and trotted off, issuing orders as he went; the people he spoke to peeling off and following, as if he really were an officer.

They knew better, but followed him anyway.

For a civilian, Daniel Jackson was a damn good soldier to know.

"Sir?"

I turned back to Major Kyle, my 2IC.

"What are we looking at?"

He shook his head, his face grim.

"Smashed carbon would be a good description sir. Both for the gateroom and anything beyond it. Any people in there are long since toast."

Kyle had always been short on compassion, despite being one of the best surgeons I had ever had the pleasure of working with. It was his lack of a bedside manner that had led him into the military in the first place, and now I was pleased to have him. A bedside manner is unnecessary in our profession.

He gestured towards where the rest of SG5 were suiting up in full breathing gear.

"There is acrid smoke everywhere, and some sort of tar-like residue is coating most areas. I have Bill and Diego suiting up, just in case we’re looking at something toxic."

"It’s a byproduct of a Naquadah explosion," a harried voice said, and I turned to face Major Carter. She was still dressed in her white lab coat and I surmised that someone had fetched her, figuring that we would need her expertise. That someone deserved a commendation, if I ever remembered.

"Is it toxic?" I asked.

Her face was drawn, and despite her best efforts she kept on flicking anxious looks into the black pit that had been the gateroom.

"Very. It’s more than likely Naquabellium."

"Damn." Naquabellium was like mercury and twice as deadly. If it was Naquabellium and Jack and Davies were exposed to it, we were going to have to move fast. I saw Kyle watching me, and nodded. Our first priority now was extraction. Any other injuries sustained by the victims immediately became secondary.

She drew in a deep breath, and I knew what was coming. "Sir, permission to…"

"Denied," I said, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible. "If Colonel O’Neill is in there, I do not want you or any of his team anywhere close."

Her face turned bitter. "He’s there. General Hammond is in Washington. Besides, if he hadn’t been, he sure would have been yelling at someone by now."

I allowed a small smile to escape. Jack would have been at that. Carter knew her C.O. well. Some said too well, in fact, but as far as I knew, they had never crossed that particular line.

"What you can do is get your people analyzing this shit," I said. "Take a sample and get moving on it as quickly as possible."

The look she gave me was one of reproach, but I was Teflon coated.

At least on the outside.

The inside was another matter.

I wanted his team as far away from the 27^th and 28^th floors as possible. Two good men were trapped, possibly dying, and I wanted as few non essential personnel around as possible.

Especially his team.

"I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with," I said, when she was slow to move. "Is this another method of attack, or has the damage already been done."

She sighed, a soft sigh of surrender. "Yes sir," she muttered. She eyed the thick treacle like substance critically, the scientist in her slowly emerging, much to my relief. "This is definitely an end result of an Naquadah explosion, but perhaps I can pinpoint a planet of origin."

"That would be nice," SG2’s commander, Major Ferretti said, his face grim. "That would be very nice indeed."

…..

"The problem with Irish luck is this: It always runs out just before the hours in a day."

Colonel’ O’Neill’s voice, after hearing nothing for so long was such a welcome relief I almost cried. Almost, but not quite.

"Sir?"

I had been calling his name for ages, hours I think, getting more and more despondent each time there was no reply. Eventually I was sure that he was dead, and I was the only survivor, and had stopped calling.

"Sir?"

"Sergeant?"

Okay, his voice had sounded shaky, and was extremely faint, but that could just be the rubble we were buried in. I didn’t know about him, but I definitely had something that seemed suspiciously like part of the main computer bank pinning me down, and above that…well the light was pretty shitty, and I was covered in a thick layer of crud that made things worse, but I swear that was part of the control room ceiling just swaying there. I didn’t feel any pain, which was a miracle in itself, but I was sure that I would do, and fast, the minute I tried to move, especially if that lot came down on me.

"Sir? Can you hear me?"

Dammit. I didn’t want to share this hellhole with a dead body. Even the thought of it and I just wanted to scream mindlessly. The panic was that close.

"Colonel?"

"What?"

His voice definitely sounded strange, but at least he was still alive.

"How you doing?"

His chuckle came back immediately.

"Oh, just peachy. And you?"

I decided to be truthful. "I’m lying on my back with what looks like half of the ceiling hanging over my head like a guillotine. I would move, but I’m trapped by the main computer console."

"I have the other half of the ceiling, and let me tell you, it ain’t hanging no more."

"What?"

His chuckle came again, sounding sad and tired. "You heard me."

I did, but just didn’t comprehend it at first. Colonel O’Neill so rarely used bad grammar, and to do so now completely threw me, which was his intention, I guess.

I put steel in my voice. "How bad sir? And no beating around the bush sir." Too many times he had lied about his medical condition when returning from a mission and then taken two steps and collapsed. He was a strange bird, and I wanted the truth this time.

His reply was rueful.

"Beating at anything will be the last of my problems, seeing that I am pretty sure that both of my arms are broken, along with something in my chest." His voice caught, and I felt that it was the idea of being completely honest about his medical situation rather than the looming prospect of a grisly death that made it do so.

"I can move my toes, but not without a lot of pain, and I know for a fact that I’m losing blood."

"Christ sir." I knew that the situation was dire, but compared to him, I had been extremely lucky. "Thank God for computers." I hadn’t realized that I had spoken aloud until his chuckle filtered back.

"Amen. Carter would approve." His voice changed, taking on that hard edge of command that I could never hope for. "How are you doing? Besides being trapped, I mean?"

"I’m okay," I said. "Really, besides having something that looks like dark treacle covering me."

"Me too." His voice was rueful. "This is gonna take ages to wash off. Any ideas as to what it could be? I mean, I can’t touch it. The broken arms, remember?"

I smeared the stuff between my thumb and fingers. "I don’t know what it is sir. It’s like…tar I guess, and smells kinda like vinegar."

"Crap." His reply wasn’t what I had expected, and I feared for him. "Sir, you okay?" A dumb question, but it was the only one I could think of under the circumstances.

His voice had taken on a thin note of frustration.

"No. But then neither are you."

"Huh?" So I wasn’t a genius, so sue me.

"If I’m right, then that sticky stuff is Naquah…Naquahbellium. It’s the final result of a Naquadah explosion and is very dangerous stuff."

My heart dropped. I had no need to ask how O’Neill knew. Not with Major Carter as his second.

"What does it do sir?"

His voice was hard. "It’s like a cream I guess. It puts Naquadah into the blood."

"And this is a bad thing?" I mean, both he and Major Carter had high levels of Naquadah in their blood already – an end result of being hosts to Tok’ra, and as far as I could tell neither of them suffered any ill effects.

"It is." He sighed. "It’s like lead, no - mercury poisoning. A little bit, and you can survive nicely. Stay exposed to it, and you die a horrible death."

I thought any type of poisoning was bad, but I understood his reasoning.

"How long do we have?"

I could almost hear his shrug.

"Dunno. My education doesn’t stretch that far."

"We’re covered in the stuff," I said miserably.

"I guess," he said, his voice faint now. "Any chance of rescue any time soon?"

I had been straining my ears for a while now, but I couldn’t hear anything.

"I can’t tell for sure," I said. "Hopefully yes."

He was lying, and not too well, but I could scarcely blame him for that. The problem was, although he didn’t realize it, he needed to be rescued as much as I did, if not more.

Damn Naquahbellium. Someone sure wanted to take the SGC command structure out, and if we hadn’t been quick with the iris they would have been here by now, swarming into Cheyenne Mountain and…

Thank God we had been. It had been almost worth the sacrifice.

I relaxed for a while, just content to allow my mind to drift, not trying to think but not trying to die either. Up until this point I had been running on a mixture of adrenalin and panic and now it was time to assess the situation for what it was.

Okay, it was dire, but I had been in worse situations, right?

Okay, so maybe I had, but poor Davies hadn’t. He didn’t know it, but soon he would feel the effects of the ‘bellium. So would I, I guess. We were both being slowly poisoned, although in my case, unconsciousness would bring sweet relief as well, because although I would never admit to it, I was in severe pain.

"Keep your breathing shallow sir."

"What?" I jerked back to reality with a painful cough.

Davies’s voice was earnest. "You’re trying to breathe too hard sir. Keep your breaths shallow, and you won’t hyperventilate. I know it must hurt, but you must try."

The personnel in the SGC had way too much medical training.

"Yes Doc," I replied sarcastically.

This seemed to be the right thing to say, because he laughed. "My mother was a specialist in breathing problems sir."

"Helpful," I bit out, trying to do as he suggested. After a while I felt less light headed, which was a relief in itself. I had thought that it was blood loss that was causing it. Or the Naquahbellium.

Talking Naquabellium, Davies deserved to know what to expect.

"Sergeant?"

His voice came back, crisp and alert. "Sir?"

"After a while you will start to feel dizzy, and soon after that you’ll feel sleepy. That is the Naquadah entering your bloodstream via the skin. In a way it’s a relief, because you’ll be unconscious before the end.

"I don’t want to die."

Sometimes the simple statements were the hardest ones to take.

"I know Gary. Neither do I."

His voice sounded strained, as I expected it would. "Does it stop your heart?"

"Yes," I said. "It’s a peaceful way to die, I believe."

His voice took on a note of optimism. "Maybe they’ll get to us in time. Before…"

"Maybe." He deserved to be thrown a crumb. What he didn’t know is what I knew, that there was no cure. If too much Naquadah entered our blood we were dead, and there was nothing that Doctor Fraiser and her team of dedicated nurses could do.

I had seen this method of execution twice before, on PJ…PJ7 FH2 and on another planet I wasn’t even going to try to think of the designation for. In both instances Carter had panicked and insisted we cover up immediately. It was she, and Janet’s autopsy on one of the bodies that told me what to expect now.

"Perhaps Doc Fraiser can sieve our blood or something," he continued. "Remove the Naquadah."

"Perhaps." If she could do that, then Carter and I would have no traces of Naquadah in our blood. Not that I…Kanaan and I had never really blended, but still, my blood had a consistency now that definitely put me apart from other humans, just like Carter.

"You don’t seem to sure." His voice had taken on an aggrieved tone.

"I’m not too sure of anything, sergeant," I said. There was truth in this, unfortunately.

"Colonel?"

Van Ryn looked up from where he was supervising two space suited people and nodded.

"Good man," he said, and I felt warm, despite the situation. Zack Van Ryn was just like Jack, never one to give compliments easily, and when they did, it was usually well justified.

"Do you want me to…?" I pointed at the innards of the gateroom inquiringly.

"Negative." His voice came out as a growl and I stopped uncertainly. "The gateroom is covered in Naquahbellium," he said, his icy blue eyes holding mine, telling me what I had already suspected. "Give the lights to De Soto here and stand back." He patted me on the shoulder, a brief, regretful tap. "I know that you want to help, but there is nothing you can do for them now."

Them. God. Of course Jack hadn’t been alone.

"How many souls are we talking about?" I asked, struggling to stay dispassionate. Souls…God, what a horrible military term for flesh and blood.

Van Ryn’s eyes were dark, and I realized with a shock that he was suffering just as much as I was. Jack was his friend too.

"We still have two souls unaccounted for – Colonel O’Neill and Sergeant Davies." He turned and looked at the organized chaos in the corridor behind us, a knot in his jaw jumping.

"Do you know what happened?" I asked.

For a moment I didn’t think he was going to reply, and then he sighed.

"It’s sketchy, and I don’t like sketchy, but this is what I know so far. We had an open wormhole between here and somewhere."

I felt my scalp contract. "That means that we had received an established ID."

Van Ryn nodded. "I’m very well aware of that Doctor, which is why we are concentrating on rescue efforts, and not on getting the gate open again. What offworld teams we have will just have to stay that way until we get to the bottom of this."

Colonel Van Ryn could be quite a bastard sometimes. I knew for a fact that SG 14 were on MY9 22N where it was 30 below freezing.

He interpreted my look. "Doctor, the SGC comes first. Always."

Teal’c was on loan to SG 14, and without his pimta he was going to be as frozen as the rest.

"I know that, Colonel," I said evenly. Life’s little curve balls had turned me into quite a bastard as well.

He nodded, satisfied with my response.

"Some type of missile was fired through the wormhole, and despite commendable reactions, O’Neill and Davies were too slow to prevent it from exiting the event horizon."

"Didn’t they get the blast doors down?"

"Almost, but not quite. From what I have seen on the control room video, the gate iris almost closed on the missile, but instead of stopping it, all it did was change its trajectory, sending it tumbling straight at them, where it exploded."

"Wonderful." Jack himself couldn’t have been any more sarcastic.

.....

I knew why he did it, but it still irritated the hell out of me.

I wasn’t just a woman, dammit. I was also an officer in the US Air Force, and he had no right to…

"He’ll be okay."

I looked up into the concerned face of my friend and the base’s chief medical officer and grimaced.

"Am I that transparent?"

She nodded. "I’m afraid you are. But then again, you have every right to be. SG1 have been together as a team for more years than any other SG unit."

I looked at my readings sadly. "That may change," I said. "In fact, that is gonna change, even if they get him out right this instant. There is no way he can ever lead an active unit again with this amount of poisoning in him." I felt the tears start to threaten, and blinked rapidly.

"I know that honeychild," Janet said. She always reverted to her southern roots when she felt stressed.

"Of course, if they don’t get him out soon, it won’t matter anyway, because he’ll be dead."

There – said it.

"They’re working as fast as they can," Janet said sympathetically. "Zack Van Ryn is very efficient, you know that."

"I know." Nodding at my staff, who all looked equally as stricken as I felt, I gathered up my results. "I guess he would like me to confirm that it is Naquabellium, so if you’ll excuse me?"

Janet merely nodded, her eyes wide with empathy.

…

"Oh crap but this hurts."

"Sir?"

I had meant my voice to be soft, but the pain of my senses coming back on line made my voice louder than I intended, and Davies had heard.

"You okay sir?"

Dumb question to ask, but I understood.

"I’ll…" I cut that reply short. This time I didn’t think that I would live after all.

"Dammit."

I could hear faint voices, and muffled thuds vibrated through my body on occasion, but they were still too far away to hear us. Davies had tried earlier to get their attention, but nothing doing.

"Sir?"

I jerked awake, hating the fact that my body was beginning to fail me. I wanted to see death when it finally got me, not be asleep like a baby.

‘Yeah Gary?" I sounded weak and breathless now, and it irritated me.

"Colonel Van Ryn says that you still owe him ten bucks, and you had better be alive so he can collect."

The voices were much closer now, and I wondered just how long I had been unconscious. Quite some time, obviously.

"Tell…" I stopped with a cry as a wave of pain rippled through my body before gathering enough strength again to speak.

"Liar. He owes me. Will tell him that when…" I left it there, needing all the oxygen I had left just to breathe.

…

"The Nox? The missile came from the Nox?"

I had heard many strange things in my life, but the news that the missile came from the planet of one of our staunchest allies came as a hard blow.

Carter nodded.

"I’m, positive sir. The minute we confirmed the Naquahbellium, I set to work on the gate diagnostics. I accessed the gateroom mainframe from my computer and determined the last set of instructions Sergeant Davies gave it. He had received a confirmation from the Nox and had opened the wormhole."

I pushed her to one side of the corridor as another load of shattered concrete made its way out of the gateroom, trying not to notice how soft she was. In another time and place, I would have made a play for this one, but with Jack in the way it was doubtful she was even aware of my interest.

Of course, Jack may not be in the way for much longer…

I pushed that traitorous thought to the back of my mind and concentrated on what she was saying.

"So they fired the missile?"

She shook her head. "I doubt that sir. The Nox are pacifists and always have been. No, I have a theory that someone perhaps gated to the planet, fired a missile at Earth, and then left again before the Nox got them."

"Good idea major," I said. "But that doesn’t explain the ID, does it?"

Her face dropped.

"The alternative, that the Nox have been overrun by the Goa’uld is…"

"One we have to contemplate," I said firmly. "But only after we have O’Neill and Davies out."

"You’re close?"

I nodded. "We are indeed, as they would say, close."

Her eyes turned hard. "Not that it matters any, not with Naquadah poisoning."

"No." I saw her flinch, but it couldn’t be helped. Jack and Sergeant Davies were going to die, no matter what we did now. They had been exposed for far too long for there to be any real hope of them surviving anymore.

"Unless we get the gate operating and call in the Tok’ra."

Sometimes I hated the weight of command. It was in times like this that I didn’t envy General Hammond at all. Or Jack for that matter.

"We open that gate and we’re vulnerable," I said. She was already shaking her head in disagreement.

"No sir. "I have those co-ordinates locked out, and the computer has been told to ignore all friendly ID’s for 48 hours." Her eyes were bright, almost fanatical in the low hallway light.

"We can use that time period to gate to the Tok’ra’s last known location and appeal for help."

"Jack will never agree to another snake, you know that," I said, frowning as she began to smile. Had I just agreed to her request or something? Damn, in a way I think that I had.

I made up my mind.

"Give us another half hour to extract our patients, and then the gateroom is yours." I held up a finger as she almost danced away.

"Nothing incoming, you hear?"

She joined Doctor Jackson, who had been listening in patiently, looping her arm through his before remembering her decorum and straightening.

"Besides us returning? No sir."

…

"Colonel?"

I was surrounded by white lights, lights that seemed to flicker occasionally, sending dark shadows across the inside of my eyelids.

"Whu?" It was very hard to form a coherent sentence.

"How is he Sergeant?"

"He’s been like that for about ten minutes now sir," a tired voice replied.

"And you?" the first voice asked, and I recognized Major Kyle.

"I’m okay sir."

"Bull," Kyle answered. "You’re hurt and cold and all you want to do is go home, right?"

Davies chuckled, as I would have had, had I any strength left. Major Kyle wasn’t known for his bedside manner, but boy he could be accurate.

"Yes sir."

I heard the tinkling of something, and then the crack of plastic being broken.

"Home I can’t do," Kyle said, his voice strained. "On the other hand, I have a nice infirmary with a cute piece of tail called Doctor Jan Fraiser waiting for you."

One of these days he was going to go too far and Fraiser was going to have his balls.

"Wonderful," Davies said; relief in his voice.

"Up you go."

I felt something that almost seemed like wind on my face, and then a clatter that seemed to fade into silence.

…

"..is high Doctor."

People were talking over me, it seemed.

"I’m not surprised. We really need to get him free, before he dies here."

I felt a hand touch my arm and almost screamed. I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped, unfortunately.

"How under is he?" It was Major Kyle’s voice again, and I wondered how come he was back so fast. I knew both Doctors in SG5, and despite their almost identical brusque personalities, they would never leave a patient until they had him bedded down in the infirmary. It took me a while to remember that I was still on base and not offworld. Hell, all Kyle needed to do was hand Davies to Fraiser and be back within seconds.

"Almost catatonic sir." That was one of SG5’s paramedics, God alone knew which one. "He’s been that way for a while."

Okay, so maybe it had been more than mere seconds.

Kyle’s voice had changed. "The Naquadah?"

Someone must have nodded.

"Shit."

I felt a hand adjust the mask on my face and flinched.

"Not under enough," Kyle said, obviously noting my reaction. "We move this shit off of him and he’s going to go into deep shock. I want him totally out of it."

I didn’t want to be totally out of it. I wanted to be aware when death came.

"Kyle?" My voice was a mere whisper, and my eyes refused to open, but I knew that he had heard.

"O’Neill?" A hand removed the mask from my face.

"Don’t want…" I felt myself struggling for breath. "Don’t…"

The mask was replaced before I could finish.

"I have to." His breath was warm on my face, so close was he. "If I administer a sedative and you die whilst unconscious, I’m sorry. But if I don’t put you under, and you die whilst we’re moving a slab of concrete from your chest, I’ll be liable. I cannot have that."

I grimaced as I felt a needle go in, and then slowly began to relax as whatever he had given me did its work. Just before I slipped away I felt his hand against my throat, and felt his breath again. "You are one brave motherfucker, Colonel O’Neill, you know that?"

One dead motherfucker now, was my final thought.

…

"I want you to fan out the minute we arrive," I said, staring over the top of the computer monitor at Lou Ferretti.

"Yes maam," he said, staring at my flying fingers with an impressed look on his face.

"The Tok’ra have a base about four clicks in, very close to an orange colored rock formation."

"Orange, check," he said.

My fingers clattered on, entering instructions into the mainframe, telling it that it was now responsible for the gateroom sequence and not the controlroom computers.

"They are going to be suspicious, and you are going to have to be forceful, but then you know that."

"We will return with one Tok’ra and a healing device, Sam," Lou said, his voice gentling as I missed a keystroke and had to backspace with an annoyed grunt. "Don’t you worry."

I abruptly stopped typing, smiling grimly as they all cringed, the six tough men of SG2.

"How can I not?" I asked; my voice deadly. "Someone had killed six gate guards and poisoned two good men." I resumed typing, my fingers now literally flying over the keys. "How can I not worry?" I asked again, only partially aware of Ferretti ushering them out.

…

They removed Jack at 00H05, not that it really seemed to matter. It was so sudden, and very different to Sergeant Davies, whom they had gently maneuvered onto a gurney before he was whisked off.

"Out of the way!" People dived to each side of the corridor, myself included as two space suited people literally ran out of the gateroom carrying a stretcher between them. I had a brief glimpse of a waxen figure lying on it and then they were gone.

"Jackson?"

I uncurled from my position against the wall and stared at Van Ryn balefully. I had been feeling useless for a while now, not wanted by SG2 and definitely not needed by SG5, and I wondered what Van Ryn now wanted. Coffee maybe?

"I want you to go down to stores and get as many cold weather supplies sent up as you can." He gave me a grim look. "Carter should have a wormhole established soon, and as soon as SG2 are through, I will order her to open one to MY9 22N as well." He patted my arm. "SG14 may not be able to gate home, but we can at least make their stay a little more comfortable - right?"

Hell yes!

…

The waiting was the hardest part. It always was.

A specialist on crush victims, Major Kyle was operating on Jack, with Doctor Warner assisting, leaving me free to worry, along with most of the base, I guess.

Word had come down that Peterson was completely shut down by a blizzard, bringing reality home with a crunch. I had completely forgotten there was a world out there for a while, so focused I had been on extracting the two men, and now when I really needed someone to speak to, I found out that General Hammond was delayed indefinitely.

"We can travel to planets a million light years from Earth, but we still can’t control the weather."

I stared over my lukewarm coffee at Carter, making no move to stop her as she sat down with a sigh, the plastic cafeteria chair squeaking slightly.

"Guess not." I really wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

"He’ll be fine."

For a second I just stared at her blankly, wondering if I had misheard her. "What?"

She took a small sip of coffee and regarded me with steady almost violet eyes.

"He’ll be okay. I know he will."

She hadn’t seen the multiple fractures, the grey pallor. Jack had been almost dead even before he had arrived in surgery.

"He was covered in Naquabellium," I said, feeling exhausted. "They both were, and now Davies is unconscious as well. You have no right to sound optimistic."

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I have every right," she spat, her eyes sparking furiously. "Jack is my friend as well as yours, and if I say he’ll be okay, then he will."

Who could argue with such rock solid female logic?

"Yes ma'am," I said, suddenly feeling both physically and mentally drained.

He face immediately turned concerned. "When was the last time you ate something sir?"

"17H00," I said. "We ate early because we were going to CT2 HS5."

"It’s now ten to one in the morning," she said. "What say we grab a bite to eat, raise our blood sugar a bit?"

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Donuts and coffee?"

Her smile was a tired echo of mine.

"A good prescription doctor." She rose and headed for the counter, my eyes following her thoughtfully before my manners kicked in and I too stood.

Okay, so it wasn’t a date complete with flowers and wine, but I’d take what I could get.

…

I was banned from the infirmary and wasn’t hungry, so I spent the time being useful. It was a good feeling, especially after sending as much as I could to MY9 22N.

The toxic gloop – how’s that for a scientific term Jack would be proud of? – had to be scraped out of the gateroom, and someone had to do it. Okay, so this was the military, a place of 'you, you, you, and you', but I didn’t mind. So the young airmen kept on giving me these scared looks, but I took those in stride. I mean, I had been dead, ascended, descended, been an Ancient for a while, and to cap it all, I was a member of SG1.

Even I could appreciate the awe those youngsters had for me.

The surprising thing was – I felt no modesty. Not anymore. I was who I was, and nothing could change that. Okay, Jack’s dying would have a major impact on my life, but he would ascend. Oma had assured me of this, and had informed him through Skaara.

The mere fact that he would ascend kicking and screaming was rather amusing come to think of it.

"Incoming traveler."

The loud robotic voice made us all jump before we remembered that Sam had set up some kind of weird audio device on her laptop and left it connected to a wall plug of some kind.

"Authorized incoming traveler."

I hustled the kids out as the gate began to move, the iris pulling back as if by magic.

…

It was weird to feel the massive gate in motion and not hear someone’s voice yelling something about there being an incoming traveler.

Nevertheless, the gate was definitely in motion, and that meant that SG2 were coming home.

"They’re playing our song Samantha."

I grinned at Van Ryn and threw my half eaten donut down to join his.

"And a lovely tune it is," I said, trying not to blush as he gallantly pulled me to my feet. Truth be told, Zack Van Ryn could be a dashing man, if only he would lose the icy attitude.

We dashed down the corridor to the elevator in companionable silence, and back out the minute it opened, only to run straight into Daniel.

"SG2?" Zack asked, breathing hard. He wasn’t as fit as SG1, I thought smugly.

"Hey, I’m a doctor, not a Jackrabbit," he said, seeing my look.

Daniel was grinning, the four equally tar splattered suited up kids surrounding him grinning equally as hard.

"Yep. Your computer Gizmo insists that they are SG2 with two extra people accompanying them." He turned to the gateroom where I could just see an oblique view of the event horizon. "Excuse me, I had better go and insist that they remove their boots." His eyes were shining in brilliant relief. "We wouldn’t want toxic sludge tracked all over the base now, would we?"

…

It was Jacob, or Selmac, and…holy moly. He was accompanied by Lya.

"Daniel." The two toned voice was unmistakable. Selmac was in charge.

I nodded a quick greeting before turning to the Nox, fury warring with caution. Yes, the missile had come from her world, but the mere fact that she was with the Tok’ra meant that there was something deeper afoot.

"Jack is dying." I had learnt over the years that sometimes a simple approach is the most effective one to have.

Her elfin face was concerned. "Take me to him."

I hung back, even though every instinct told me to get to the infirmary as quickly as possible.

"He will not welcome you. He believes that you hurt him."

Her face looked stricken, and she raised a trembling hand to her face. "Oh no, it was not I," she said miserably.

"Your identification was used," Van Ryn said, his voice echoing around the ruined gateroom. He stood just outside the door, his face like thunder. "O’Neill trusted that, and was betrayed."

I had been watching Selmac whilst Van Ryn had been talking, waiting for something to happen, and sure enough, something eventually did.

"Let’s get to the infirmary and take it from there, shall we?"

Startled, Van Ryn whipped his head around to stare at Jacob, staring at the older man with narrowed eyes.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

I wasn’t going to interfere – hell no. The mere fact that Van Ryn had never met Jacob Carter before was entertaining enough without me getting in the way to complicate things.

Jacob’s expression was cool. "General Jacob Carter, USAF, at your service." He calmly made his way into the hallway where he offered a foot to one of my suited up kids. "If you would be so kind?" he murmured. "It wouldn’t be so good to enter a place of healing with Las’na all over my feet."

To his credit the kid, Airman Delaray flicked a glance at me for permission before proceeding. I didn’t blame him. A strange man purporting to be a General had just exited the wormhole accompanied by a bird like woman dressed in purple and a heavily armed escort.

It was time to interfere, before Sam did and got court-martialed or something.

"General Carter, welcome." I nodded at the kid. "Do as the General said Deleray." I turned to the other members of my clean up squad. "The rest of you help as well."

Once they were busy removing shoes, boots and any other contaminated articles of clothing, I finally turned to Colonel Van Ryn, only to find him deep in conversation with Sam.

Okay then.

…

"Who is he?

Van Ryn’s breath still smelt of coffee. It was this that I noticed before anything else.

"He really is a General," I said, stepping back and giving us a bit of space. "And my father." I gave him a long look. "Surely you knew?"

His expression turned rueful.

"I had heard that he was around," he waved a hand at the secured stargate, "somewhere. I just didn’t expect to meet him so soon."

"He is the Colonel’s only hope," I said. "And Sergeant Davies’s," I added hastily. Not wanting to look into his eyes that were nowhere near as icy blue as I had first thought, I turned to watch as the last of SG2 were divested of their shoes. They all looked rather funny, standing there in their socks, or in Lya’s case, her bare feet, but this wasn’t the time for levity.

"Dad, Lya, if you would follow me?" I said, trying not to rush them. We had taken so much time already.

…

Something was squeezing my chest, and it hurt.

Badly.

Oh God, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move… I couldn’t… I didn’t want to die.

"No." It was but a small noise, but it would do.

"No no no…"

"Doctor!"

I felt a cool hand on my forehead, lifting the sticky hair away and moaned, recognizing the touch of Janet Fraiser.

"Colonel." Her voice was loud and direct. "Don’t fight it."

Don’t fight death? Like hell.

"Nonono…"

"Jack."

Her hands were urgent now, tapping against my skin, making me listen.

"It’s the Naquadah poisoning. It’s slowly paralyzing your neural network. Please don’t fight it."

Why the hell not?

"You will only make things worse sir. Lie still and let us handle it."

And die quietly? Like hell I would. One didn’t have to move to fight. I had learned that years ago in Iraq, when they had buried me alive with just a tube connecting me to the life giving oxygen above. They had expected insanity within a day. They had gotten nothing, because I had refused to give up the fight, just like I would refuse to do now.

"No."

"Can he understand you doctor?"

Her voice was bitter. "He can understand me just fine Sally. He just chooses not to obey."

"Why?"

Her sigh was one of defeat. "Because he knows what’s happening to him. Because he has seen the end results of Naquadah poisoning before, and knows what to expect. His soft denials are his way of trying to stay alive."

Sally’s voice was choked. "Oh God."

I heard the rustle of paper, and Janet’s soft voice as she issued instructions to Sally, and then she was back, all cool hands and light perfume.

"Hang in there Colonel, Jacob is coming."

Of course I would, but it hurt so very badly. At least I had the satisfaction of still being alive. I had been so scared that Kyle’s concoction would be it, that I would never wake again, that now I would hold on forever, if that what it took.

I would hold on for dear life. Oh yeah, for dear life.

"Nonono." God it hurt.

"Doctor?"

Her voice was regretful. "I know Sally, but there is only so much we can do. He’s holding on by a thread as it is; and with the Naquadahbellium complicating things we cant give him anything more."

Sally’s voice was anguished, and I envisioned her as I had last seen her, a small compact woman with large compassionate eyes. "But he’s hurting doctor."

Fraiser’s voice gentled. "I know."

......

Carter’s father or no, I just didn’t like this man. He was arrogant for a start, and to make matters worse, he seemed to know the SGC quite well.

The idea of anything with a snake in its head knowing the layout of the SGC didn’t fit too well with me at all.

"You don’t like me, do you?"

His voice was a low murmur in the elevator, but I heard.

"You have a Goa’uld in you," I replied.

His smile was bitter, and I wondered if perhaps there was more to this man besides arrogance.

"Another Jack," he said softly.

"I have known him for many years," I said, staring at the floor indicators. "It hurts me that I can do nothing for him and you can."

He looked surprised. "You’re the famous Doctor they have all been talking about."

I nodded. "And you are the famous Tok’ra they have all been talking about."

He laughed, and much to my surprise slapped me on the shoulder.

"Tell you what. When this is over, the beer is on Jack."

I could just see Jack’s expression now.

"Count on it," I said with a faint grin.

…

"How is he?"

I was hot, and my bones ached, but compared to the still form of Colonel O’Neill, I was doing just fine.

The nurse, Sally Vickers merely smiled at me.

"He’s stable for now." She fluffed up my pillows, smiling at my scowl of irritation, knowing that I had difficulty moving. For some strange reason my body seemed to be slowing down, and I guessed that it had the same roots as the lassitude I felt. I felt so sleepy, like I could just shut my eyes and sleep for a week. It was only O’Neill’s warning that stopped me from doing just that.

"It’s the poisoning, isn’t it?"

"What?"

"How I feel, how come Doctor Fraiser is so worried. I tried to look up at her and gave up with a grimace when I saw sparkles behind my eyes. "We’re dying."

"Shush."

The mere fact that she didn’t answer was answer enough.

"Just…find the bastard that did this," I said. "For us."

The wet cloth moved from my face to my hands, and I watched vaguely as she wiped each of my fingers. Strangely enough, I didn’t mind dying. Okay, I didn’t like the idea of doing so, but we all worked in one of the most dangerous bases in the world, and death had always been a constant companion. For some people this knowledge caused total burnout, yet for others, like me, it was the reason why we did this in the first place, to deny death, to open the stargate one more time.

To go somewhere else in the universe, just like I had dreamed of when I was twelve years old.

"Gary?"

I focused on Doc Fraiser, blinking rapidly.

"I want you to hold on. Can you do that for me?"

I tried a smile and almost cried when my face muscles refused to comply with my wishes.

"Major Carter says that her father is on his way. He can help."

"Good." I was slurring now, and this frightened me more than I would ever let on.

I had never been offworld, not once, but I was still an adventurer. I made things happen, allowed people to travel to distant planets, and for me, this was even more rewarding than actually going there myself.

I was part of the most amazing program ever seen on Earth, and I was damned if I was going to be reduced to a footnote.

Fraiser was still staring at me, her eyes deep brown pools of compassion.

"I’ll hold on," I whispered, not caring anymore how I sounded. My eyes caught the still figure in the distant bed. "Just…make it quick. For both of us."

…

"Janet?"

My voice came out as a squeak, and she whirled towards me, her face breaking out into a relieved smile.

"Sam, Jacob. Thank God." I noticed that she had purposefully left out greeting Lya and understood why. We all know by now where the missile had originated, and were none to pleased to see her. If the Nox were one of the founding races, then how come she had let this happen in the first place?

"Janet?"

Dad had stopped in the middle of the infirmary floor, a look of horror on his face, and I could see why. They looked dead.

"They are still alive."

Colonel Van Ryn nodded, adding his voice to hers. "They are, but time is limited sir."

Dad pulled a healing device from under his vest. "Then let’s not waste any, shall we?"

…

Something warm was slowly moving over my chest, lifting the heavy weight resting there and making it easier to breathe.

"How long?" That was Zack’s voice suspicion dripping off every word, and despite myself I smiled. Trust a doctor to be suspicious of a healer.

"What’s he smiling at?"

"Dunno." Jacobs voice sounded strained, and I could just imagine him standing over me, both hands firmly locked around the healing device as he slowly drew it over my body.

"Tickles." My voice was faint, but hell, I didn’t care.

"What?" Jacob sounded mystified. "What did he say?"

I opened my eyes and blinked up at him.

"Tick-les."

He gave a bark of laughter. "Probably broken bones mending." He sobered abruptly, "I saw what remained of the gateroom. It’s a miracle that you weren’t instantly killed."

I nodded, easier now that he had run his healing doohickey over my head. "Yeah. I’m still waiting for the Nox to make an appearance."

"Lya’s here."

"What?" It wasn’t quite a yell, but it was impressive nonetheless.

"She’s helping that Sergeant." He nodded at another bed, making me draw in a sharp pain free breath. Davies. God, how could I have forgotten?

"How is he?" I asked, deliberately not looking that way. I don’t think I could look her in the face just yet.

"Seems okay," Jacob said. "Remember, the Nox are famous healers, as you very well know."

"Famous destroyers as well now," I muttered, folding my arms and deliberately looking at the ceiling.

Jacob snapped the doohickey off, and glared at me, forcing me to meet his eyes. "It wasn’t her."

I abruptly sat up, ignoring the pain of unused muscles assaulting me, and glared across at the other bed. To her credit she stared back, her elfin face pale.

"May I explain?"

I stood up, hanging onto Zack as the world spun before finally finding my balance. "Sure," I said sarcastically. I gestured around the infirmary with a shaking hand, ignoring the scowls I was getting from the earth based medical profession. "I would say let’s adjourn to the briefing room, but that’s gone now, isn’t it? I distinctly remember having about a tons worth of concrete sat on my chest, and I swear it came from the briefing room floor."

Her voice was like musical bells.

"Here will do just as well, O’Neill." As I watched, she removed her hands from just above Sergeant Davies’s chest, and the man awoke with a shuddering gasp.

"You okay Gary?"

Davies nodded, his face ashen. "Fine sir, I think."

I nodded, satisfied.

"Okay then. Which one of you would mind telling me what in the hell just happened?"

I sat back on my bed, ignoring the quick look Van Ryn gave Jacob. So I wasn’t as healed as I wanted to be. At least I was conscious and could breathe. That was the main thing.

"It was Anubis."

Lya walked towards me and held out her hands, but I shied away. At this moment in time the Nox definitely weren’t my most favorite people.

"How?"

She recoiled at my icy tone, but I was beyond caring.

"Jack, please listen, and don’t judge before you have all the facts." Jacob’s words made sense, and I realized that I was still running on pure adrenalin.

"So speak then." It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

"They came out of the ring whilst we were celebrating the festival of Bechinala." Her eyes were wide with sadness. "Anubis has…a history with the Nox, a history that spans centuries, none of it good. He knows us well, and used this information to strike whilst we were otherwise distracted."

I stared at her, feeling my scalp contract. The Nox had known of Anubis and yet had said nothing?

She knew what I was thinking.

"We believed him banished." She shrugged, her pale clothes rustling against her body like dry twigs. "We believed there was no need to warn anyone of his ferocity because we believed he would never return."

"But he did."

She nodded at Daniel. "Yes he did, but his doings seemed far distant, and impacted little on the Nox."

"It impacted a lot on us," I muttered, but she ignored me.

"We believe now that this was deliberate. We believe that Anubis deliberately allowed us into complacency hoping that we would relax our guard."

"What happened?" This time it was Sam who spoke.

"He attacked," Jacob answered.

That almost toppled me off my bed.

"Anubis attacked the Nox?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes. And for a while he and his men had control of the Nox gate."

"And of the Nox GDO?" Sergeant Davies asked quietly.

Lya’s eyes filled with tears. "They killed Bra for possession of it. He did not give it up easily."

"I can imagine he didn’t," Daniel murmured.

"And once he had it, he used it to call Earth," Jacob said.

"A knock on the door that we answered," Davies said.

"And collected a missile filled with Naquadah for our troubles," I finished.

"Yes," Lya said. "I am so sorry."

This put a new spin on things entirely.

"What of the Nox now?"

She looked at the floor, at her bare feet, a sight I had a difficulty in following. In fact, they were all shoeless, something I would really have to ask about at a later date.

"They are recovering now that Anubis has left."

"He left again?" My voice came out as a squawk, but I was beyond caring.

Jacob took over, pressing me back on my bed with a firm hand that booked no arguments. "Will you lie back already? I’m not finished with you yet."

"Oh yes you are," I said, glaring back.

"Perhaps I could help?" Lya asked.

"If you can resurrect eight gate guards, then yes you can help," I bit out. Okay, so her explanation made sense, but I was still hurting.

"They didn’t make it," Zack said, confirming my fears.

"Then thank you for your help, and goodbye," I snapped.

I then lay back on the hard hospital bed and resolutely shut my eyes.

…

"He’s…

"I know.

Jacob’s voice was sad as I led them back towards the gateroom.

"He’s hurting still," Lya said wisely. "He hurts both on the outside and the inside, and lashed out because of this hurt."

"Will he be okay?" I had to ask this.

Jacob nodded. "In time. I have removed the Las’na from his system…the Naquadah residue, but he still has bones that are not healed properly, his legs for instance. How he stood on them I don’t know."

"He was stupid to have declined our help," Lya said. "He’s still in pain."

"Perhaps he needs that pain." That was the cool voice of Sam.

"He will not forgive this easily, will he?"

"No," Sam answered, her face expressionless as Lya daintily replaced her shoes. "But then, he does not forgive anything easily, even his own mistakes.

"He is a remarkable man," Lya said. "Anubis had hoped to kill all the Tau’ri and simply walk through unmolested. He had underestimated O’Neill."

"It was remarkable that they managed to close the iris at all," Jacob said.

"They are remarkable people, these Tau’ri," Selmac said, taking over Jacobs body. He gave me a warm look, slightly unnerving.

"Doctor Jackson, tell O’Neill that we are truly sorry."

"As are the Nox," Lya said. "Tell him…Tell him that Anubis will never again catch us so unprepared."

"I will tell him."

"And perhaps in time, he will believe that," Sam said, looking at her father sorrowfully.

…

Even here, on the 21^st floor, the crack rumble of the Stargate activating could be felt, and I wondered vaguely what NORAD thought about it, before dismissing the thought from my mind. In the scheme of life and things, who cared?

Watch it Jack.

I was dangerously close to breaking, and took a slow deep breath, forcing my jumbled emotions into some semblance of order. Failing that, I just lay back and willed sleep to come.

Of course, it eluded me.

"How is he ma'am?"

It took me a couple of seconds to identify the voice as Sergeant Davies, and I briefly thought about opening my eyes, but decided with my emotions still so close to the surface that wouldn’t be wise.

"He’ll be okay, Sergeant." I felt a sharp pain as someone, probably her, replaced the IV line.

"He asleep?"

"Almost," she said. "He will be in a moment."

His voice was hesitant. "I just wanted to tell him that no one blames him. I don’t, and I’m sure Lieutenant Carlon and the others, the gate guards who died wouldn’t have either."

"That’s a nice thing to say, Gary," she said softly.

His voice turned stronger. "I mean it ma'am. I had a lot of time to think before they found me, and even more time to think whilst here, and I came to the conclusion that what happened was just another part of war. The enemy lulled us into a false sense of security, and when all our defenses were down, he attacked."

He was quoting from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, I thought drowsily, wondering if the soft gate technician even realized it.

"So you’re saying that Colonel O’Neill wasn’t to blame?" Fraiser asked.

"No ma'am," Davies answered. "It’s like playing chess. We make a move, and the System Lords make a move. This time it was Anubis’s turn, but he didn’t realize that we had a knight strategically placed on the board. He tried for checkmate, but the knight thwarted him real good."

"Knight?" Fraiser started to chuckle. "Oh that’s good. That’s really a good comparison."

Knight? I was still thinking about that one as sleep took me.

…

"…So that’s the story so far General."

I really hated giving briefings, but this one was especially bad. General Hammond had finally made it to the base, half frozen and frantic with worry, and it had been up to me, the senior officer on the base to tell him what had actually happened.

It wasn’t turning out to be a pleasant experience.

"So where is O’Neill now?" he asked.

"Still in the infirmary sir." I stared at the model of the F14 Tomcat behind General Hammonds head and wondered if he had ever actually flown one.

Probably.

"How bad?"

"He’s sedated with injuries to his fibula and tibia regions on both…" I stopped at his glare.

"Both lower legs are broken," I said sheepishly.

Hammond snorted. "And despite Jacob actually holding the healing device above his body, he told him to get lost, right?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

He leaned back in his chair and gave a deep sigh.

"That one will be the death of me, you mark my words," he muttered half to himself.

I knew better than to comment.

"How is the gateroom?" he asked after a while.

I brightened. This was better news to give.

"We have managed to clear away all the Naquabellium, and Major Carter, along with Sergeant Davies have made a temporary computer control room just to the right of the gate itself. It is far from ideal, but at least we have managed to pull back our missing SG teams."

I stopped as Hammond held his hand up. "Davies?"

I nodded. "That Lya woman healed him completely, and Doctor Mackenzie insists that the best therapy for him now is to be kept busy. I concur."

"Okay then," Hammond said. "So we have a semi working control room and…?

"Four tones of concrete to remove from the briefing room and control room. That is not a hyperbole," I finished, just to prove to him that O’Neill wasn’t the only one with a good grasp of English.

I sat back smugly as Hammond digested that comment.

…

"Davies likened what had happened to a game of chess," I murmured drowsily, watching as my friend lifted his head and regarded me with calm eyes.

"In what way did he do that, O’Neill?" Teal’c asked. He sat back in his chair, completely unsurprised that I was awake. That’s why I liked him so much, for his unflappability.

That, and his warrior soul.

"He quoted Sun Tzu."

"Davies quoted Sun Tzu?"

Okay, so maybe my friend was so unflappable after all.

"We’re all warriors here my friend. All of us, not just the SG units."

I waited while he thought this through, just content to lie and listen to what could only be very early morning noises. The SGC was asleep – or what could pass for sleep in a base that never truly slept.

"He said that like in a game of chess, Anubis used subterfuge to advance."

Teal’c nodded his ebony head, the gold tattoo on his forehead glinting in the reduced lighting.

"He used the identification of one of Earths closest allies," he rumbled softly. "Daniel Jackson told me of this."

"Yes." I couldn’t meet his eyes.

"An identification that you welcomed. Only it was…a wolf in sheep’s clothing."

I was still staring up at the ceiling.

"Yes."

"Then Sergeant Davies, warrior that he is, is correct. No one was to blame."

"Then why do I feel so responsible?" I turned to him, welcoming the pain of my broken legs.

"If I know this, then why in the hell do I feel so fucking responsible?"

"Why?"

It was a cry from the heart, an anguished cry I would never have uttered in front of anyone else but Teal’c.

"Because you are you," he said, and sat serenely as I wept.

EINDE

BetaTested by CiGiK - Cape Town - South Africa - 11th April 2004