Jack O’Neill was pretty sure that he had counted at least thirteen shades of brown in the four hours they had been sat on the steps of the stargate, depressing him no end.

The place was dead, and he meant that in more ways than one. The waist high grass was brittle and dry as far as the eye could see, which was for miles in any direction around the stargate. In fact, grass was all anybody could see. Short grass interspersed with the occasional gnarled tree far in the distance.

To make matters even worse, a blazing sun dumped a trillion degrees of heat on everything, completing the desolation Jack O’Neill felt, increasing his depression to downright misery.

With a nonchalant casualness, Jack O’Neill stared round their little camp that SG7 had set up whilst they waited, noticing that they looked as hot as he did. Where in the hell were the Prishnorians that Bra’tac had insisted wanted to liaise with the legendary Tau’ri?

O’Neill slapped at something that whined past his ear and sighed, a deep long suffering sigh with a slight hint of impatientness thrown in that he was sure Bra’tac heard.

Good.

His aide, Sergeant Pablo De Souza on the other hand was a bit more undiplomatic.

He was a short stocky individual with an olive complexion and expressive Dark brown eyes that still looked on life with wonderment, something a jaded Jack O’Neill privately found charming, if not a little strange. Once upon a time he had been a non-entity of an aide to General Hammond, a cardboard cut-out until he had been rescued by O’Neill, given a makeover, and made a member of SG1.

To Jack’s pleasure, his team had taken to the youngster immediately, treating him As a fully-fledged member of SG1 even though he rarely went off world. 

V54…yadda yadda yadda was the third time De Souza had been away from earth for any length of time, and if it hadn’t been for Bra’tac insisting that O’Neill try diplomacy for a change, he wouldn’t have been there at all.

O’Neill cast a sideways look at his dubious sounding aide and grunted non-committaly. Truth be told, he was beginning to have his own doubts. Not that he would ever tell the rest of them that.

"He knows what he’s doing, De Souza," he said in a bored voice, taking time out to glare at the Jaffa in question.

As expected, Bra’tac ignored them, content to lean on his staff weapon and stare out into the veldt.

Jack O’Neill gritted his teeth, thought better of it and sighed, staring round the clearing at his clearly bored men.

Just think, right now he could be back at the SGC, having his tooth seen to.

…

" Why me sir? Why not Major Kovachek? He’s the diplomat around here."

General Hammond glared at his second, taking note of O’Neill’s scowling face and balled fists, wondering for the fifth time in as many days what was wrong with the man.

" Because Bra’tac said these Prishnorians specifically asked for you," he said patiently.

" I wouldn’t trust that dried up stick of Jaffa meat further than…" 

" Colonel," Hammond thundered, " what in God’s name is wrong with you? I was always under the impression that you had nothing but admiration for Bra’tac, and now you’re telling me otherwise?"

He paused for breath, continuing before O’Neill could open his mouth. " You have been borderline insubordinate for the last two days, like a bear with a sore head, and frankly, I would like an explanation."

He tapped his foot and glared at the scowling O’Neill.

"Now please Colonel," he demanded when none was immediately forthcoming.

" Toothache. I have a toothache sir." Colonel Jack O’Neill straightened, staring over George Hammonds left shoulder, feeling like a heel. Had he really been that bad?

" Is that all?" A clearly incredulous Hammond stared at him. " You turn the entire base on its head, causing every section head bar medical to complain bitterly about your behavior and it’s all due to a tooth ache?"

" Yes sir." O’Neill lowered his gaze to the General. " But it’s not any normal tooth ache sir, believe me."

Hammond rocked back on his heels. " Oh, I bet it isn’t," he said sarcastically. " The toothache that manages to take out the famous Jack O’ Neill would have to be a doozy, that’s for sure." 

He glared at his impassive 2IC. 

" Go and see Captain Miller, Colonel."

O’Neill stiffened at the mention of the base dentist. " But sir…" 

" If you can go toe to toe with Apophis and win, Colonel," Hammond said dryly, " Then I’m pretty sure that a geek of a dentist won’t worry you…" 

He raised his eyebrows encouragingly at his second. " Or am I mistaken?"

" No sir," O’Neill muttered, his face contradicting the lie.

…

" Hmm."

If looks were laser beams, Captain Miller would have been toast.

Unfortunately they weren’t.

Having his head back and mouth wide open, O’Neill was reduced to waving his hand at the anorexic-looking Captain in the universal signal of "what?" 

" You have two cracked molars Colonel," the man said, looking entirely too cheerful for his own good. He peered into Jack’s mouth again, tapping on the teeth with some sort of silver torture instrument, making O’Neill think longingly on how quickly he could kill the dentist by using just his feet.

It would take six seconds. Yep, five if he caught the man off balance.

The problem was the free board and lodging for the next twenty-five years.

" From the look of it," Miller continued, not realizing how close to death he had actually come, " from the look of it they’re both split straight through, meaning they’re both going to have to come out.

" Nghhaw?" O’Neill asked looking apprehensive.

Proving his theory that dentists could make excellent translators, Miller smiled and shook his head.

" Now sir? I’m afraid not." He straightened, setting O’Neill’s chair whirring into an upright position as he did so. " Extracting these babies isn’t going to be easy."

O’Neill watched apprehensively as the dapper Captain stared at a wall mounted calendar, muttering to himself quietly. " Hmm, well today is out of the question, as is tomorrow. How about Thursday?"

He looked at O’Neill with such optimism that he was almost sorry to turn him down.

Almost, but not quite.

" I’m going to be offworld the day after tomorrow Captain," he said calmly.

This seemed to catch the dentist unawares, sending him scurrying back to his calendar.

" Oh, well, how about this Friday?" He gave Jack a bright-eyed look. " Will you be back by then?"

" If I’m not then I’m dead in a field somewhere on the other side of the galaxy," Jack said darkly.

His attempt at gallows humour didn’t sit too well with the dentist, who stared at him speechlessly for a moment before nodding jerkily. 

" Yes sir. Try not to, sir…you know." He took a step back. " I’ll see you Friday then sir."

…

" Colonel?"

Sergeant de Souza’s apprehensive voice bought out of his reverie, the tone of his aide’s voice making him stiffen. 

" What is it Sergeant?"

" A shape sir." He reddened when Bra’tac towered over him, looking menacing. 

" I was staring at that distant tree when I swear I saw something move."

Oh ho, O’Neill didn’t like the sound of that. " Bra’tac?"

The tall Jaffa looked annoyed.

" I seriously doubt that your young pup saw something that I did not." He stared at De Souza, his eyes dark and fierce. " I would have not lived to over a hundred and thirty years of age if I did not hear every sound, see every shape, just in case they were a danger to me."

O’Neill turned back to Pablo de Souza; curious to see how his aide would handle Bra’tac. He knew that there had been something about the young man that set him apart from any other airman when he had first laid eyes on him, although at the time he had no idea what it was. Now, seeing him and the ancient Jaffa together, glaring at each other, he knew what it was. Pablo de Souza could have been Bra’tac’s son, or rather grandson. They were both very similar, in features and attitude, which could cause problems if he didn’t defuse the situation quickly.

" Pablo," he said softly, " If you are so certain that there is something out there, I suggest you take yourself and an airman from SG7 and go investigate."

The man immediately leapt to his feet, relief on his face. " Yessir, thank you sir."

" Mind that you don’t shoot your foot off," Bra’tac said, showing an impressive grasp of Tau’ri weaponry.

The young Latino paused for a moment, a retort on his lips before thinking better of it and gesturing to an airman to follow him. 

" They are on a fools errand," Bra’tac commented after a while, his eyes still dark with anger.

" Maybe," Jack said slowly. " On the other hand we are all getting bored."

He waved a hand. " No, make that cooked and bored, waiting for these mysterious Prishnorians to show up. If De Souza wants to alleviate some of that boredom by chasing after mysterious shapes, I see no reason why he can’t."

Bra’tac’s disgusted grunt got O’Neill back to gritting his teeth, wishing he was anywhere in the galaxy besides this prideful man.

Even the dentist was beginning to sound okay. 

The sound of a shout drifted in from the two specks on the distant hill, closely followed by a volley of shots, instantly bringing O’Neill and the others to their feet.

" De Souza, report," he shouted into his collar mike, pleased to see that Bra’tac was waiting as patiently as SG7 were.

The young voice that answered was the young airman from SG7, Airman…Marais.

He sounded scared stiff.

" Sir…ah, we need help here."

Jack O’Neill hadn’t reached old and gray by being stupid.

" What happened Marais?" he asked calmly.

" Uh sir…there…there are things in the undergrowth, like large brown cats."

He took a deep frightened breath. " Sergeant De Souza managed to shoot one of them, but they’re so fast…"

" Guard the gate, Major. If we aren’t back in two hours, get reinforcements from the SGC."

As expected the Major immediately objected. " Sir, we can…" 

" You can not," O’Neill interrupted. " You are no more a fighter than I am a diplomat. None of SG7 are," he said bluntly, hoping the intelligent Major would understand the wisdom of his words. 

" Stay here, guard the gate, and if the Pris-.., whatever pitch up, extend our apologies."

" Prishnorians," Kovachek said quietly, a small smile on his face. 

" Yes sir."

That out the way, O’Neill nodded to Bra’tac and they both melted into the undergrowth.

Despite the severity of the situation, Jack couldn’t help but feel the pleasure of actually doing something at last. He was a normally active man, not used to sitting in one spot for too long. Hell, a game of chess usually strained the limits of his patience, for Pete’s sake.

The five hours of waiting for non-existent dignitaries had seemed like sheer torture at the time, and now he was just glad to be moving, even if it was into danger.

The further up the hill they climbed, the higher the grass grew, until they were battling their way through brittle vegetation that towered high over their heads, only the top of the gnarled black tree reassuring them that they were still heading in the right direction. 

Jack was just going to comment on it when the old Jaffa stiffened.

Bra’tac’s suddenly raised hand made him freeze, ears straining to hear what the old warrior had heard, and then he heard it for himself, an eerie keening sound of people in pain.

His people.

Cautiously they crouched and leopard crawled towards the noise, until they came to a small clearing with the dark gnarled tree almost dead center. The sight that greeted their eyes made even Bra’tac hiss.

Carnage.

There was no other word for it. There was blood everywhere they looked, splashed across the grass, mingled with savagely torn pieces of flesh that must have been the party of Prishnorians that they had been waiting to meet.

" Dammit," O’Neill hissed, eyes scanning the area for De Souza and Marais.

He felt cold, the hairs prickling at the back of his neck, stirred up by his sixth sense that told him that they were in very deep danger.

" De Souza, Marais?"

" Over here sir."

Two bloodied bodies moved, the glint of metal showing they weren’t as helpless as they seemed, turning into the familiar forms of SGC personnel.

" Sir…"

" Dear God." Some animal had obviously grabbed De Souza by his shoulder from the pulpy mass evident there, turning his uniform into a crimson mess.

Despite this, he was clear eyed and alert, unlike Airman Marais, who looked scared out of his mind, a clearly broken leg telling of his fate. 

Jack was at his side at an instant, leaving Bra’tac to check on Marais as he was sure he would.

" Pablo, what happened."

" Lions sir." He grimaced, gesturing into the undergrowth. " At least I think so." He stared up at O’Neill, his eyes steady. " Watch yourself sir, they’re incredibly fast."

Just then something gave a throaty grunt, the tall grass muffling where the sound was coming from, sending Jack and Bra’tac spinning to face outwards. 

" Bra’tac, any ideas…"

" As to where the sound emanated from, O’Neill?"

The tall Jaffa shook his head, looking worried. " Not a one."

Jack slowly reconnoitered their little clearing, staring out into the high grass towards where the distant stargate should be for a moment before bringing his attention back to problems closer at hand. They were four people alone n what was obviously an animal smorgasbord. Two of the four were injured, leaving one human and one Jaffa to take on God knew what.

Bad odds, but maybe he could do something about that.

" Bra’tac," he hissed. " Hit the deck."

Bra’tac hesitated for a moment in confusion before the significance of O’Neill lifting the muzzle his P90 made him throw himself to the ground with an oath. Everyone knew that the Tau’ri were slightly mad, but in this instance O’Neill’s idea was brilliant.

The Tau’ri’s weapon opened up with a shattering roar, instantly shredding the undergrowth, sending the unseen animals shrieking in agony. 

Bra’tac saw a problem to O’Neill’s tactic immediately, something he was sure that the Tau’ri knew about, but was helpless to prevent. He could only shoot out into one area of their clearing, the black tree preventing him from sending his projectiles into the other area of the veldt.

As he watched, helpless to regain his feet, least he was inadvertently shot, he saw two of the creatures suddenly leap out of the undergrowth, one of them finding O’Neill’s right arm, biting down hard with an audible crunch as the other ploughed onto his midriff, sending the human spinning into the ground.

Bra’tac regained his feet in one fluid motion, bringing his staff weapon to bear as the second animal began to maul O’Neill, sending the creature rolling away. The creature attached to O’Neill’s arm soon joined his friend in the afterlife, allowing O’Neill to collapse in an untidy heap.

" Sir…sir."

Bra’tac became aware of the young pup slowly crawling towards his feet, dragging his own Tau’ri weapon behind him. " Take this sir," he said, offering Bra’tac his P90. He nodded towards the staff weapon Bra’tac carried. 

" That is too precise."

Bra’tac was a proud man, a man who had been a true and loyal Jaffa before finally seeing the gods to be false gods. He had lived over a hundred and thirty years and in that time had never, ever, used any other weapon apart from the traditional weapons given by the Gou’ald to be used in their defense. 

Now this young pup, who looked eerily like his sister’s long dead son, was offering him something new to try.

A Tau’ri weapon.

Bra’tac was a proud man, but he wasn’t stupid.

He allowed his staff weapon to clatter to the ground and reached for the thing.

" What do I do pup?"

The man’s smile was grim. "Just point and shoot sir."

At first the shots went wild, giving Bra’tac new respect for the Tau’ri who had mastered these clumsy weapons, then he had the thing under control, spraying the veldt, glorifying at the animal screams he heard from within. 

His weapon was soon joined by that of the scared young Tau’ri, aiming at the area in front of where he was lying, then by the pup, who had somehow crawled to O’Neill and was now spraying the neglected area behind the tree.

For a while there was nothing but the sound of the staccato Tau’ri weapons until his weapon eventually ran dry, making him once again reach for his staff weapon, although from the short grass and piled light brown bodies piled up around their clearing, there was no longer any need for it. 

Soon all the weapons fell silent, allowing an acrid smoke to waft across their heads.

" That was…impressive," a soft voice whispered, and he looked down into the open eyes of O’Neill.

" You are wounded," Bra’tac said, crouching next to the bloodied Tau’ri. 

O’Neill’s laugh sounded garbled, and then he coughed harshly. " Damn Bra’tac, please tell me that was a statement, and not a question." He gestured weakly towards his bloodied tunic with his good arm, obviously in good humour despite his injuries.

" It was," Bra’tac said, smiling at the dark look O’Neill gave him.

He rose to his feet in a swift motion, aware that O’Neill was trying to copy him. " Do not be foolish human," he said, deliberately harsh with the stubborn man. " You are grievously injured, as is your young pup, despite his heroism. You will wait here whilst I return for more of your kind."

" Yes Master," O’Neill slurred. " However, I have a better idea."

He gestured to his top pocket. " Radio. Just click and talk."

…

"…And ideally I would give him some type of antibiotic to reduce the risk of infection, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary in this case doctor."

" I don’t think it will be Miller, seeing as I have him on a broad spectrum antibiotic, just in case those animals were something we haven’t seen before."

" They weren’t," Jack O’Neill whispered, smiling sleepily as both doctors turned round to look at him.

" Lions. They were a whole stack of lions."

" Pride."

Doctor Fraiser stared at Miller in confusion, but not O’Neill. " Sorry, you’re right. A pride of female lions. Tiny vicious creatures." He stopped suddenly, a look of confusion on his face. " What are you doing here?" he asked.

" Me?" Captain Miller smiled. " Why, I extracted your teeth. We had an appointment today, remember?"

Dr Janet Fraiser could see this was way too much information for her latest patient, making him blink vaguely. " And now we will both leave you to get some sleep," she said, ushering the dentist out of the infirmary.

Once he was gone she returned, only to see an alert Jack O’Neill waiting for her.

" De Souza and, whatzit…Marais?"

She gestured to two other beds that Jack could only just see from his prone position.

"Both sleeping, as you should be Colonel." She adjusted his drip. 

" Good night sir."

…

He awoke to see Bra’tac and Pablo De Souza engaged in an intense game of fahmat.

The game was like chess, but was played with colored stones on a board with eighty-one squares. It had taken the SGC by storm, so much so that there was scuttlebutt that the Air Force was thinking of marketing as yet another new game and sending it out into the world to make a profit.

Privately Jack hoped they did, feeling pretty confident that the Air Force would show a better return on that one game than anything any SG team had managed to procure offworld in the past five years.

" Who’s winning," he whispered, his mouth feeling like a wad of cotton wool was stuffed in it.

De Souza’s eyes were bright. " I am, four games to three. Master Bra’tac doesn’t stand much of a chance in this one either."

Jack shifted his eyes to Bra’tac expecting to see the expected scowl, and was astonished by its absence.

" You have been trained well, pup," he said fondly, turning his queen over in surrender. " I will do well to remember that the next time we compete."

He rose to his feet in a swirl of cape, giving O’Neill a glare.

" Treat my adopted son well O’Neill," he said, and stalked out the door, leaving silence behind.

" Son?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised.

Jack frowned, a feeling of apprehension in his gut.

" Did he do anything else?" he asked slowly.

" Sure," De Souza smiled. He held up his wrist, displaying a fresh scar.

He made me a blood brother." He shrugged, " harmless really, but master Bra’tac insisted." He looked at his wrist. " I haven’t done that since I was a child."

"Nor will you ever again," Jack sighed. " If you do, Bra’tac will kill you."

" Sir?"

Jack O’Neill sighed again, and gestured to a nurse. " Lieutenant, can you please tell General Hammond that I would like to see him at his earliest convenience." 

When she scurried off he turned back to his aide with a pensive expression on his face.

"This could be a real coup, or a severe clusterfuck," he murmured.

" Sir, what did I do?"

" Got adopted," Jack said slowly. " For real."

De Souza stared at him.

"Sir I have it on real good authority that my father was a Portuguese merchant sailor that knocked up my mother before leaving for parts unknown when I was three months old."

Jack treated him to one of his dark glances.

" Well, from now on, as far as Bra’tac is concerned, he had that honor."

Pablo De Souza’s expression was classic. " What now…what do I do?"

Jack scowled, adjusting his drip, glad that Airman Marais seemed to have been released from the infirmary, leaving them alone for a while. 

" Pablo. What you did was really stupid, bordering on the court martialling side. However," he held up a finger when his aide blanched, " I also realize that you were in a catch 22 situation."

" I was?" De Souza asked, clearly not comprehending the term.

" Yes. If you had declined Bra’tac’s offer, he would have been incredibly offended. Hell, he might even have stalked back through the stargate, never to be seen again, alienating Teal’c and taking his knowlege of free Jaffa with him. That would be bad for the SGC. That left you the choice of doing it, binding yourself to Bra’tac for the rest of your, or his, natural life."

" Oh, yes I understand sir. You are saying that I chose the lesser of the two evils?"

Jack smiled at his apprehensive aide. " Indeed, as a certain Jaffa would say."

" So what now sir?" De Souza asked.

" You tell General Hammond what happened and hope for the best."

" And where it concerns Master Bra’tac?"

Jack smiled and lay back. " Probably nothing. I have been bound as a brother to Teal’c for years, and all it really does is make you more aware, and as a consequence, more careful." 

His eyes flashed, pinning his young aide to his seat. " But beware of the responsibility that you have inadvertently taken on. If Bra’tac calls for you, you are duty bound as a son to respond, no matter what."

De Souza swallowed.

" Do you think that is ever likely?"

O’Neill’s smile was easy.

" Probably not."

BetaTested by CiGiK

*****Reader's RAVES*****

Great story - PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE continue as soon as possible!!!
It is so terrible to have to wait!!!!!!!!!!!
Go on, please!
Cheers
Barbara
----------------------------------

home