PART SEVEN "No Regrets"
Jack stretched stiffly, pushing his sock clad foot against the arm of the couch. Memories of the car ride down the mountain and across town to Sam�s apartment teased the back of his mind as the haziness of sleep faded.
They didn�t speak as they climbed down from the tower and walked casually down the trail to the parking lot. She gestured him into the seat of her silver Volvo, producing his ID and speaking for both of them as they passed through the checkpoint. He hadn�t asked why or how she came into possession of the little plastic card, chalking it up to a welcomed surprise as he leaned back in the worn leather seat. The leisurely drive was filled with the sounds of nature, more eloquent than any of the words that drifted around his tired mind. The roar of the wind rushing into the open windows, birdcalls and the hum of insects rising up when they slowed for the intersection at the base of the mountain. The murmur of the radio, tuned to a classical station because she knew that was what he liked, a muted undertone. Her fingers twined with his on the seat between them as he dozed with his head against the doorframe. Lulled by the hum of tires on asphalt and the rare contentment of simply being with her.
He woke from his doze when they arrived in the cool underground lot beneath her apartment complex. Stumbling from the car he held her hand as they crossed the damp concrete. Enjoying the feel of her fingers warm and soft in his.
�When did you sell your place?� He spoke for the first time, remarking on her choice of living arrangements with a curious raise of an eyebrow.
�There�s no point in owning a big house when you�re never home and have no one to share it with.� The last said with a regretful little smile as she pushed the up button on the elevator.
Once in the apartment, she showed him the third story view. Trees in the park to his right, the bustling street immediately below, more urban than he ever pictured her.
�Did you want coffee?�
� No, I�m exhausted.� A good kind of tired, happy and utterly spent. He sat on the couch and she drifted off to take a shower. He was jarred awake by a pair of sweats and a T-shirt being dropped in his lap.
�Where did these come from?�
� I don�t remember, should fit.�
It would have taken too much energy to question her further, so he didn�t. The bathroom was still steamy from her shower and smelled faintly of lavender soap. An odor he recalled from their time in the tower, minutes, hours, earlier. He bathed quickly, rinsing away the scent of their love making with regret. When he emerged into the cozy living room she had made coffee.
�Decaf?�
�Yes.�
He drank it and nibbled at the warm buttered English muffin she placed before him.
�I�m going to call Janet.�
�Okay.�
He didn�t remember finishing the muffin.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Jack sat up and looked around. A glimpse of the city lights bled between the sill and the bottom slat of the drawn blinds. Offering scant illumination as he stood carefully and began to navigate the unfamiliar space. Coffee table, check, discarded shoes, check, endtable�.ouch! �Damn!� He growled into the darkness.
To his right he heard the slippery hiss of fabric on fabric. �Colonel?�
�Yeah, who else?� he retorted irritably as he rubbed his bruised shin. �Jesus, Carter, you could have left a lamp on.�
�I didn�t want to wake you.�
�I don�t think a nuclear explosion could have woken me up.� He straightened, smiling at the thought. �Can�t remember the last time I slept so well to be honest.�
�Good.�
He turned towards the sound of her voice. She was sitting in the corner next to the window. Her face shadowed to black by the pinned curtains. One leg was thrown over the arm of the chair and the silhouette of her hair stood up at odd angles. Jack frowned in puzzlement and took a step towards her. �Did you sleep?�
�Sort of.� She answered with a yawn.
�Carter?�
�Hmmm�
�You were watching me?� He knew it, but he had to hear the words. �Weren�t you?�
The shadow nodded and he saw her chin drop into her propped hand. �You looked so peaceful�� she mused softly.
�How could you see me?� He took another step. The heat of her body brushed against his legs, and he shivered in remembrance.
�It�s been hours,� Sam pointed out.
He nodded and folded his arms across his chest, suddenly unsure. �You were going to call Janet?� he asked after a moment�s thought.
�I did.�
�And?�
�She wasn�t very happy that we left the base.�
�I suppose we are lucky she didn�t send out the MPs.�
�This close,� Sam replied, holding up her fingers.
Jack chuckled and moved towards the windows. The blinds clacked harshly in the silence as he pulled them up to reveal the street below. Traffic crawled by in fits and starts; a cab, a bus, the occasional sedan or SUV. He rubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin. �What the hell time is it anyway?�
�0300.�
He sighed regretfully at her choice of words. Military time, a constant reminder of who they were and why what happened in the tower had to remain a secret. �You should sleep, Carter,�
�I will.� She rose, stretching her fingers towards the ceiling. �I told Janet that I took you home, to your own bed.�
�She bought it.�
�I think so. She�s sending a car over there in the morning to make sure you�re okay.�
�So, I should catch a cab?� he surmised.
�Yeah,� Sam dropped her arms with a muffled slap and crossed to stand by the window. �I wouldn�t have let you oversleep.�
Her thigh brushed against his, sending warm tingles up his leg. Jack bit his lip and forced his arms to stay crossed. If he reached for her he knew what would happen as well as she did. �I�m sure,� he managed roughly.
�I washed your stuff, it�s on the back of the couch.�
He grimaced at the image of domesticity, �Okay.�
Tentative fingers brushed across his forearm, prickling the flesh in their wake. She leaned on him and grazed his cheek with a tender kiss. �No regrets.�
He fumbled for a reply, at a loss. She seemed to sense his confusion and walked rapidly away, ending the conversation with the soft dissatisfying click of her bedroom door.
Jack stood by the window for a long time, staring sightlessly down at the street. The events of the afternoon spun through his mind. The warmth of her touches, the languid exquisite pleasure of their lovemaking, sights and sounds that had left him with a sense of profound peace and gratitude. He wanted to hold onto that moment. Capture it under glass, so it would be there when the darkness inevitably fell. But like the woman that inspired it, the moment fled from his touch. Lost from view beneath the murky depths of obligations, duties and responsibilities.
His fists clenched in silent fury as he spun from the window and stalked to the couch. Wrenching the worn T shirt from his body Jack tossed it across the room, the pants soon followed. Cool air rushed over his skin as he reached for the clean clothes.
For years his life had followed the same rigid pattern, self denial in favor of the bigger picture.
Why?
Always there were people and principles more important. He had dedicated his life to the well being of others, rarely thinking of himself until situations forced him into it.
Maybe it was just easier that way�.
There were moments, mercifully few and far between. where circumstance had been the master. Holding up a smudgy glass to his soul. Moments that terrified him because of what they did and did not reveal about the man he thought he was and should be.
It was easier not to see. To screw up his mind�s eye and turn away from the worn visage that stared at him with chilling intensity whenever he chanced to look�
The box.
Jack shivered in memory and swallowed hard.
The six by three by three foot tin enclosure which sat in the center of the Iraqi prison compound. The Box had been his home for over a week. Twice daily a straw was shoved through a hole near his head. They held it for thirty seconds at sunrise and sunset. His internal clock reminded him when it would appear. Usually, as the chill of the night wore off or approached in blessed relief at the end of the day. Scraps of bread were dropped onto his chest through a grated hole at what he could assume was high noon judging by the burning slits of light that rested across his bare abdomen. He scrabbled for the crumbs before they fell into the sweat and waste that puddle beneath his body.
There was nothing to do in The Box but try and sleep and think.
There were people that loved him, were waiting for him beyond the gates of this man made hell. He remembered their names, dreamed of their soft smiling faces. Reached for them when the heat brought their mirages tantalizingly close.
He regretted arguing with Sara just before he boarded the plane, possibly more than anything in his life up until that moment. He could see her standing at the Gate with tears hovering at the corners of her eyes, as he gave her a rough perfunctory hug. She waved and smiled when he chanced a glance back, he nodded acknowledgement, his mind already moving on to upcoming mission briefing. A month later, trapped in The Box, he silently raged and chastised himself for his narrow mindedness and stupidity. The reasons for the altercation were lost in the waves of nauseating heat that enveloped him. It had been his fault, he was sure of that. It usually was. He wanted to get back and tell her.
Charlie.
His infant son had been sleeping in the stroller next to Sara�s leg, oblivious to his parent�s squabbling. At least he wouldn�t have to explain his stubbornness to the child. That is, if he ever got the chance�
Jack leaned back on the couch, one shoe dangling from his fingers.
Why did every pivotal moment in his life involve the death of innocence? Not simply the taking away of physical presence, but the total obliteration of all things pure and decent that touched him.
The fall day had been inordinately warm and bright with sunshine. The sky a deep indescribable blue, startling contrast to the first tinted leaves of late September. He had driven home with the radio cranked high. Playing an oldies tune, as he thought about his planned trip to the park with Charlie. He had had to put his son off the night before. Work had called and left a message, he just had to go in. There had been sadness and anger in his son�s brown eyes. �I promise, I�ll make it up to you.� It was often a struggle to follow through on his word, something unforeseen always seemed to crop up. This time there were no obstacles, they were going to spend the afternoon together. Sara was working in the yard when he pulled up. She greeted him with a smile and a tender kiss, clearly pleased with herself and the picture she held out to him.
Charlie�s school picture.
The shot shattered the peace and even the birds fell silent as she screamed. �CHARLIE!�
Jack shook his head, scrubbing a hand across his sweaty face.
There were moments in the long year that followed his son�s death. Flashes of a life he chose not to live. Mostly there was darkness. A capsule filled with pain and regret became his world. Questions that had no answers filled his restless nights. People passed through his life, visions without substance. Events transpired, marriages, births, deaths. He was not aware. Sara left and the world returned with stunning force, nearly crushing his soul to ash. He let her go, convinced that he deserved nothing less than complete isolation. He retreated, afraid to touch anyone, terrified to feel anything but guilt.
The military, his curse and saving grace, drew him back towards its muted light. They needed him; it was the answer, so he went. Saying good-bye without regret to the large house that had been filled with so much joy and laughter for so long�
Jesus, what was the point? He had done what was best for both of them, and look what happened?
Jack rose to his feet and snatched his jacket from the back of the couch. In the dim light he found Sam�s phone, sitting next to a lamp on the bar that separated kitchen from living room. The amber light brought tears to his eyes, as he snapped on the switch and pawed through the papers for the phone books. He found a number for a cab and the address of her apartment on a discarded envelope.
Twenty minutes!
For Christ sakes, what the hell were they doing at this hour?
He forced himself to hang up politely, resisting the urge to kick the nearby trashcan with effort.
More time to think, sweet!
Jack switched off the lamp and stepped carefully around the end of the bar into the kitchen. The apartment was small and neat, a direct contrast to the controlled chaos of Sam�s lab. He smiled sadly as he turned towards the door. A single gleaming bar of light caught his eye, and he spun on his heel. He was halfway around the lip of the bar when the reality stopped him cold.
The light was coming from beneath the door of her bedroom. He froze, torn by the urge to check on her and the overwhelming need to run and hide.
No regrets,
Her words. He clenched his fist, overwhelmed by the thought of what those words could mean for both of them.
There were always regrets.
Jack turned away and walked out of the apartment, closing the door as quietly as possible. Maybe she was asleep�
Yeah, right.
He chose the stairs over the elevator. Outside the air was heavy with humidity, forcing the fumes from the passing cars to remain close to the damp roadway. He coughed and leaned on the side of the building, savoring the cold of the brick as it seeped through his jacket.
There were other moments that forced him to examine his life and the choices he made. Experience spared a normal human being, living a relatively boring suburban life. More than one occasion when he wished the hell he�d eaten the muzzle of the revolver he kept in his bureau drawer.
Hathor and The Tank.
A chill crawled up his back and Jack pushed off the wall and began to pace the length of the walkway in front of the building.
In the minutes between implantation and the blinding freeze flash of the cryogenic tank, he had seen his whole life. From birth and growing up as the youngest, angriest, of 3 siblings. To his choice to join the service as Vietnam was ending. His special ops training that had taken him everywhere in the world, but nowhere official. He revisited The Box and Charlie�s death, and the pain and fury were new and fresh. He used those emotions, turning them on the hateful creature that tore and bit at his confused mind. He drove it back, until its� body was claimed by the icy chill and they were both plunged into blackness.
The light had brought hope, and with it Sam�s anxious visage. Peering at him through the dissipating haze, reassuring him with words and warming him with her body. She gave her report in stilted gasps as he clung to her. For the first time their hearts beat as one, and beneath her official fa�ade he sensed her fear and relief and ultimately regret, when they finally pulled apart.
They moved forward from that point, but always there was a lingered look, a spare word, an excuse to brush her hand or pat her on the shoulder. A faint tremor that set his teeth on edge when he sent her off, knowing that she may not come back. He hated ordering anyone into a hazardous situation. His first instinct had always been to go himself. Some would call it selfish, but in the brief moments following his rescue he realized the true nature of his feelings. It wasn�t that he could do it better than anyone else, it never had been. He just couldn�t bear the thought that someone should be hurt or die in his place. He would give anything to spare his friends the raw emotions that painted his soul dismal shades of gray.
Over the years that realization had spread through his life like ripples on a pond. It was the one truly good thing that he had been able to find beneath all the emotional baggage that cluttered his fractured psyche. The grief Daniel suffered as Sha�re was absorbed, and the fresh blinding onslaught when she died at Teal�c�s hand. Fear and sorrow that enveloped Sam as she relived the death of her mother through the Tok�ra memory device. Teal�c�s utter devastation and thirst for revenge when Tanith killed Shau�nac, and later his deep remorse when Drey�ac died alone and left a bitter Ry�ac behind. All of these he struggled to enfold within himself. Responding to the emotional firestorms in the only way he could, action.
He had pointed out the futility of Sha�re�s situation to Daniel and had stood by him as he grieved twice over. When Jolinar invaded Sam, he could not put his doubts aside and listen to her. There was only the battle she waged and won in his opinion. Comprehending the Tok�ra sacrifice was beyond him, until The Tank. He had atoned in some measure for his shortcomings by supporting their mission to Netu and standing up to Martouf when the Tok�ra became too insistent. To Teal�c he had offered a warrior�s comfort, something they both understood. He had the Jaffa�s back in the firefight on Vorash, and he rode out the storm of Mal Sha Ron as Teal�c came back to himself. He was there for all of them, because actions had to speak louder than words that he could not say.
Each event had brought about the annihilation of one small part of his soul. He could not prevent the pain or change the outcome. It wasn�t his fault, but he couldn�t find it within himself to move on from that point. The mirror before his mind�s eye showed a man who had failed those around him in innumerable ways.
The image was false, twisted and cracked by circumstance. Unfortunately, it was the only picture he had. Changing it meant accepting that it was okay to be selfish, to reach for something that could give him peace. Stop worrying about what others saw when they looked his way. Stop trying to prove himself, or force his mind to warp into a mold that had not fit for quite some time.
There were Beings in the universe that would happily twist him into shape. Why give them a helping hand?
Baal was such a creature, as were the Pellans and their scheming Goa�uld mentor. Each in their own way had held that mirror before his eyes and contributed to the myriad of cracks and smudges that altered the picture therein. By choosing to continue to wallow in self recrimination was he proving them all right? Was he really unworthy of inner peace and a sense of accomplishment? If that were the case, then what had the point of life been up until now?
In Baal�s cell he had outright refused Daniel�s offer of Ascension. Nothing he had achieved in the twisted fairytale of his life could possibly justify elevating his consciousness to a higher plane of existence. Daniel had vehemently denied his convictions, which had only made him angry and resentful at the time.
�You�re a better man than that��
�THAT�S WHERE YOU�RE WRONG!�
�Hey, buddy! You call a cab?�
A shiver thrilled across Jack�s nerves at the shout from the parked car to his right. Reality reasserted itself with a cool breeze and a smattering of rain against his face. Sliding onto the backseat, he gave his address in a mechanical tone, before leaning his head tiredly against the headrest. �No regrets,� he whispered.
He spent the remainder of the night watching the rain pelt the French doors at the back of his living room. The rivulets captured the floodlight in the neighbor�s yard, glittering iridescently as they trailed down the glass. Their mini rainbows offered a sense of false cheer and he kept his eyes trained on them most of the time, loath to revisit memory lane and the pitfalls it contained.
Dawn brought an end to the showers, painting the sky a vivid orange as the storm front moved west. He rose wearily to his feet and went in search of a clean uniform. Focusing his thoughts on Karen Griffin�s debriefing and the situation with Jonas should have been enough to keep his attention, but it wasn�t.
Memories of Sam and their odd conversation in the dark kept intruding on his thoughts as he shaved and showered. They would have to sit in the same room and work together to get Jonas back. It wouldn�t be easy for either of them, he mused. Far from clarifying their feelings, their intimacy in the tower had produced more questions. There would be no ready opportunity for them to discuss their feelings. Time was moving on and the situation was getting more desperate for Jonas. He had no doubt that the optimistic young man would crack beneath the utter futility of his captivity, every hour was one too many. Jack shook his head in disgust, just one more thing...
No, he told himself firmly. For once put the blame where it lies, squarely in the lap of the President. A twisted individual waving the Bible in one hand and the flag in the other, as he paraded around the oval office spouting self righteous nonsense. Kinsey was responsible, it remained to be seen just how badly his ignorance had damaged Earth�s defenses.
�The stupid son of a bitch wasn�t even coerced into betraying the entire planet,� Jack railed to an empty room. Grateful for the solitude as his ire bubbled over. �He did it out of greed and stupidity! Because he thought he finally had a handle on Pandora�s box!� For a brief blinding moment, Jack wished the impossible on the arrogant statesmen.
The thought and the intensity behind it left him weak and breathless. He folded his arms on the top of the tall bureau and rested his head in the crook, slowly rocking it from side to side. What did I tell them? Did the Pellans tell Osiris what they did? What I said? Did she care, or was I simply a toy for their amusement�
Straightening, he struggled with his uniform jacket. His fingers were slick with cold sweat, and he was trembling uncontrollably with rage and frustration. Losing his grip on the buttons for the third time, Jack cursed long and quietly beneath his breath. Hammond had asked why Osiris didn�t interrogate him, at the time the answer was lost like so many other things in the depth of his murky brain. Standing in front of his bureau, resting his quivering fingers on the edge, the why finally surfaced riding a wave of revulsion and guilt.
Bait.
Osiris hated Daniel Jackson more than any other human being because of his relationship with Sarah, his host. The Goa�uld could be as petty and single minded as the next creature, despite their vast intelligence. Beyond the fact that Daniel knew Sarah intimately and therefore was a threat to Osiris� hold, was the inescapable truth that Daniel knew the Goa�uld, their history and vulnerabilities. He had Ascended and attacked Anubis. Osiris was a trusted, insofar as trust went among the Goa�uld, lieutenant of the powerful system lord.
Whether Jack lived or died at the hands of the Pellans was immaterial. Osiris knew that SG-1 would never abandon one of their own. He had been the lure and Jonas had fallen into the trap Osiris had set for Daniel.
Jack ran a hand through his damp hair and gathered up his shoes with an involuntary groan. The repercussions of Kinsey�s narrow mindedness stabbed through his subconscious, invoking greater ire with each breath. He swallowed hard and forced himself to be objective. Losing his temper with anyone would only be detrimental to rescuing Jonas and finding out the real reason Osiris was on P2Z-421. He had to think. What steps could Hammond take now that he had decided to go against the President publicly? Would the General still be in command when he arrived at the SGC?
Jack finished getting dressed and went into the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he went out onto the front step to wait for the USAF car. Questions continued to tumble through his mind as he drank from the steaming mug.
What would happen to Daniel and Teal�c if Hammond couldn�t follow through and remove Kinsey as a threat? Would Sam�s career be over, would his? The latter brought him up short. Jack dropped his gaze to stare at the swirl of grounds in the bottom of his cup. Do I really care if things go sour for me?
The crunch of tires on gravel saved him from further musings. Leaving the cup on the rail, Jack walked down the steps and across the damp lawn. The sun glinted off the polished chrome of the large sedan, and he pulled his glasses out of his pocket as he reached for the door handle.
�Good morning, Sir.� The young black man behind the wheel greeted him with a wide smile. �Beautiful day, isn�t it?�
Another morning person, Jack grimaced inwardly and clicked his seatbelt into place. If anyone had asked him yesterday about the beauty of earth and sky he would have answered quickly and honestly, yes! But morning had changed things considerably, and not for the better. He favored the Airman with a watery smile as they pulled away from the curve. �Rained like hell last night.�
�Yes, Sir.�
�No regrets.� The words echoed in the silence between them.
Jack hated being the last one to arrive anywhere. People always stared. Walking into Lieutenant Colonel Karen Griffin�s mission debriefing after everyone was seated and waiting was enough to set his teeth on edge. He pulled out his customary chair and sat down without comment. Sam�s gaze flickered across his face before meeting his eyes in silent question.
Are you okay?
He heard the words as clearly as Hammond�s order for Karen to begin. Nodding slightly he folded his hands on the table and turned his attention to the tall brunette.
The Lieutenant Colonel wore a sling on her damaged arm and a pair of bright burning slashes marred the skin of one cheek. She was on edge, not her usual confident self, Jack noted. Suspicions and doubts gnawed at him as she stood and began the background section of her report.
He was surprised that the species that had shown him only cruelty had a very highly developed social structure. A feudal system, as Hammond had described, with ranks of traders, merchants and indentured servants. The lowest class lived to serve the Lords, performing all the menial tasks not fit for the gentry or Tradesmen. The Pellans had large families and showed a great interest in the physical accomplishments of their children. Education was not a priority among the lower classes. Prowess in sport was highly valued. Physical strength an attribute cultivated amongst both genders.
As Karen moved on to a description of their agricultural practices, Jack sifted through the information she had provided thus far, relating it to the painful interactions with his captors. He had never been able to distinguish male or female genders among his torturers. They were all the same on the other end of a cattle prod. Their love of the physical was tantamount to the lustful spirit of the ancient Romans, almost orgasmic in their enjoyment of the bloody sport of Gladiators.
The content of the report shifted to the Naquadria mining operation. Jack leaned back in his seat, watching Karen pace the small space behind Sam�s chair. Pictures taken by the UAV were flickering on the large view screen. He flinched, as an explosion of gas and debris belched from a shaft.
�Naquadria like its more stable cousin, Naquada, seems to have a tendency to seep into the soil and even plant life of a planet. Raw Naquadria ore, while not overly powerful, is highly unstable. During our time on P2Z-421 we witnessed several explosions like this one. The mineral is hard to get to, so there isn�t a lot of it. We were lucky to send back the amount that we did.�
Karen reached for the remote and shut off the viewer. �This completes the background section of my report, General Hammond.�
�Thank you.� The general cleared his throat and turned to look down the length of the long red and black table. �Major Carter?�
�I agree with Lieutenant Colonel Griffin�s assessment, Sir. Naquada does tend to saturate an area it is safe to assume Naquadria would have a comparable effect. The ore retrieved though unrefined, was of a very high quality. I have no doubt that any technologically advanced species could use it any number of ways.�
�Power source? Weapons?�
�Yes.�
�Any indication that this is the case on P2Z-421? Major, Lieutenant Colonel?�
�No, Sir,� Karen murmured, deferring to Sam with a nod.
�The Pellans do not use advanced weaponry except the pain sticks,� she cringed looking at Jack before continuing. �We saw no evidence that they possessed anything more complicated than simple printing presses, threshing and milling machines.�
�Curious,� Hammond mumbled, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. �On Earth, gun powder was used in ancient China for fireworks and primitive explosions long before the developments you mentioned.�
�We saw no evidence of that, Sir. The mining for Naquadria ore was done manually, without the assistance of any heavy equipment.�
�I see. Doctor Jackson do you have anything to add?�
Daniel shifted in his chair his face pinched, and pale. �No, Sir. The Lieutenant Colonel and Major Carter seem to have covered all the relevant aspects of Pellan society, except their propensity for unsolicited violence.�
Hammond nodded, shooting Jack a quick sympathetic glance. �Agreed, Doctor.� He shifted his gaze to Karen, who had pulled out the chair opposite Jack and was now adjusting her injured arm as she sat down. �Which brings us to what happened the night before last, Lieutenant Colonel.�
�Yes, Sir.�
Jack�s eyebrows rose in surprise at the fresh sheen of sweat that broke across Karen�s brow. She was nervous, scared, and unable to hide it. He cowed his growing suspicions with effort and lowered his intense gaze to the tabletop, giving her a chance to pull it together.
Karen�s cleared her throat. �Jonas Quinn had made friends with a local merchant. He spent some time at the man�s home and a day in the marketplace helping the gentleman sell his wares. He and Doctor Jackson, were trying to establish who the central government was.�
�As a precursor to negotiations.� Hammond surmised.
�Yes, Sir. The merchant showed Jonas a copy of their by-laws and explained that the Council of Lords decided on the prices for all products, and helped regulate supply and demand. Seemed like the most logical place to start.�
Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Daniel nodding in agreement. The younger man put up a finger and swiveled in his seat. �I spent a great deal of time in the marketplace and learned that thieves, pickpockets and the like were prosecuted by a jury made up of area businessmen. The jurors were rotated out every two months to keep the body fresh and unbiased. There was no evident system for dealing with more violent offenders, which I found quite odd.�
I think I know what they did with the more violent offenders, Jack mused darkly. How ironic that the jailers on P2�Z-421 were the very people who should have been locked into the deepest darkest hole imaginable.
�You have something you would like to add, Colonel?� Hammond asked pointedly.
�Sir? Uh, no�� he shrugged, mildly embarrassed that his inner ramblings were showing so plainly on his face.
�I see,� The general gestured towards Karen. �Please continue.�
�Yes, Sir. Jonas Quinn asked to speak to the Council on the pretense of establishing himself as a new merchant in the community. He went as a trader in fabrics, a rarity for this area, and therefore a plausible cover. Anyone wishing to set up shop in the market had to go before the Council.� She shrugged, wincing as her clothing pulled across her injured arm. �Time had determined that there was no central government for the planet, so we were stuck negotiating with a local entity. At least that�s what we thought�� She stumbled into silence and looked at the table for a long moment.
�Karen,� Jack murmured softly. He felt the eyes of the room shift in his direction, but ignored them. �You couldn�t have known.� What happened next on P2Z-421 was clear and devastating in his mind�s eye. Fresh nauseating guilt washed over Jack and he felt the blood drain from his face.
If only�
�Colonel?�
He jumped at the sharp address. �Sir?� The general�s meaty hand was resting on his forearm, a frown of concern pulling at his round features. �I�m okay�I just�wish I could have remembered�� He whispered bitterly.
�Not your fault, Jack. Move on.� Hammond advised quietly as he removed his hand.
�Yes, Sir.� He looked at Karen. Her blue eyes had gone impossibly dark, and she was drawing rough circles on the paper in front of her. Doodling was a nervous habit they both shared whenever things got too emotional. �Lieutenant Colonel,� he prompted gently, bringing them both back into the formal.
She frown deeply and looked up, addressing her remarks to the General. �As Colonel O�Neill implied, Jonas Quinn and myself discovered too late what, or rather who, we were dealing with.� Her gaze shifted to Jack, Daniel, and Sam in turn, gauging reaction as she continued. �When we entered the chamber of the Council of Lords, we were told that we had to meet with their High Advisor. Seemed odd since up until that point the Pellans had never mentioned anyone of that rank, and were not clear on the description of this person. It didn�t take long to find out why. The High Advisor was Osiris.�
Sam�s blue eyes widened in surprise and shifted immediately to Daniel. The younger man paled noticeably and reached for the glass of water on the table in front of him. His fingers grazed the glass and it tipped, sloshing water onto his report and over the lip of the table.
�DanielJackson.� Teal�c spoke for the first time. His large hand reached for the glass and steadied it. He refilled it from the pitcher and handed it to Daniel, who took a long drink.
�Osiris?� he managed hoarsely.
�Yes, I�m afraid so.� Karen confirmed. She pushed a hand through her thick hair and looked at General Hammond. �She had a very small contingent. Seemed that she was hiding on P2Z-421.�
�Possibly from Anubis.� Teal�c murmured darkly. �Since the destruction of Abydos we have heard little about Osiris. Tok�ra operatives have reported that he fell out of favor with Anubis sometime after the battle, it was believed he was killed by an Ashrak sent by Anubis himself.�
�Rumors of my death�� Jack interjected sourly. �I saw Osiris on the planet, weeks before Jonas was taken.� In an odd way admitting his failing to a roomful of friends gave him strength. Whether they blamed him for Jonas� capture was an issue for another time and place. He took in the startled looks that surrounded him and nodded in silent acceptance. �She was the one who ordered my imprisonment,� he added.
�Colonel, we discussed this yesterday in my office. Have you figured out any idea why Osiris wouldn�t question you herself?�
�Bait,� he said simply.
�For me,� Daniel grated beneath his breath.
Jack grimaced sympathetically as Sam picked up the thread of discussion. �It makes sense. He hates you because of your history with the host��
�Sarah,� Daniel interrupted pointedly.
�I�m sorry, Daniel. I didn�t mean it to sound cold.� Sam bit her lip in frustration. �We need to stay detached in order to sort this whole thing out.�
�I know,� the younger man acknowledged. �Easier said than done for some of us.�
She offered him a pale smile and turned to Jack, her face instantly sobering. �It wouldn�t have mattered if your were dead or alive in that tower. Osiris knew we would come back for you.� Her tone was flat, striving for the detachment she spoke of, but her eyes betrayed her.
�Jack, can you hear me? We�re here, you�re safe. Jack open your eyes. Jack, come back to us.�
�Jack, you can�t die on me now.�
Sam�s words echoed through his bruised mind, reaching and comforting him in the darkness of the cell. Jack locked gazes with her, willing her to understand how important those simple phrases had been. �No, it wouldn�t have,� he affirmed for the rest of the people in the room. �She wanted Daniel and she settled for Jonas.� He licked his lips, considering the suspicions that had teased his mind during the car ride to the base. �Is it possible that Anubis or Osiris found out about Jonas?�
�Sir?� Sam prodded.
�About where he�s from, some of the things he can do��
�Goa�uld do not generally share technology or information,� Teal�c reminded.
�I know that but�what about Nirti�s Jaffa? We didn�t catch or kill them all when we were on Wodan�s planet.�
�You�re suggesting Nirti�s remaining warriors were somehow absorbed into Anubis� army?� Hammond�s chair squeaked loudly in the silence.
�Or recruited by Osiris.� Karen offered.
�Osiris� only real status came from her association with Anubis, at least that was the impression I got during the Summit.� Daniel straightened in his chair. �If she wanted to secure an army and vital resources, she would have to be very secretive and cagey. Goa�uld do not share information, but even among system lords there is a grapevine I�m sure.�
Teal�c seemed to consider the human term before bowing slightly. �Osiris could have become aware of Nirti�s experiments on Wodan�s planet. Perhaps even have visited that world to ascertain if the device had been destroyed.�
�And discovered the remaining Jaffa, which she then pumped for information,� Sam concluded. She looked at Daniel and shook her head. �She probably found out from Anubis that you had ascended so she wanted to trap you and learn all she could, but the plan backfired and she got Jonas instead.�
�Hell of a consolation prize if she does know about Nirti�s little experiments.� Jack ran a hand through his hair. �What are the chances she will figure it out on her own?�
�What? That Jonas is special for lack of a better term?� Sam asked.
�Yeah, that.�
�Pretty good,� Daniel responded. �The hand device can tell the Goa�uld an awful lot about their chosen victim. Assuming Osiris knows what she has.�
Jack nodded, turning his thoughts inward as silence fell over the table. In one respect, being held by Osiris was better than being held by the Pellans. The Goa�uld, while evil, at least had a purpose. Jonas could use her desire for knowledge to his advantage, possibly bargain for better treatment, or stall for time. He had to know that they wouldn�t leave him behind! The Pellans could not be reasoned with, their activities were fueled by aggression and a lust for violence. There was no way to negotiate with pure sadism. He shuddered, as memories flickered at the back of his thoughts, jarring in their realism.
It was possible that Jonas was better equipped to handle the mind numbing futility of the Pellans and the chamber. The special abilities he did not fully comprehend could be a valuable tool for his mind to use against the System Lord. Youth combined with a slightly different perspective on the world would work to his advantage. Jack clenched his fingers until they turned chalky white and the nails formed small crescents in his palms. Years of special operations training should have prepared him for the worst that the creatures could offer. It had failed him. He had failed himself. Death became a preferred option, as opposed to a last resort.
In many ways he had come full circle from his first fateful trip through the Stargate.
Jack looked up at the faces that surrounded him. He had gained much in the last eight years, but he had also lost a great deal. Parts of himself scattered across too many planets. Physically and emotionally drained by the rigors of life. More and more he questioned what he was still doing in the USAF. There had to be others, younger, smarter men and women that could carry on the fight?
�Colonel, do you have anything to add at this time?�
Hammond�s question drew him back to the present. Jack cleared his throat as the world gradually refocused. �No, Sir.�
�Lieutenant Colonel Griffin, let�s hear the rest of your report.�
Karen nodded stiffly, her eyes flickering from face to face as she spoke. �Osiris offered us a choice. She would hunt down and execute my team if we refused to leave, or she would let us go��
�So we could inform the Tauri population that she had returned to power.� Teal�c interrupted dryly.
Jack smirked at the veiled sarcasm he detected in the Jaffa�s tone. He was definitely rubbing off on the large man.
�Unfortunately, she thought better of her choice, or maybe it was a simple ruse to find out if we were on the level.� Her gaze rested on Daniel, who nodded slightly. �I was pretty suspicious, so I ordered Dr. Jackson to stay by the Gate with Airman Hasp. If I hadn�t...� Karen sighed through her pursed lips, her blue eyes dark with suppressed anger. �I didn�t want to leave Jonas there�but I didn�t have a choice. I kept thinking that somehow we could outmaneuver the Jaffa and Pellan guards. They kept us surrounded though, until we got out of the city, and then a runner came down the trail and all hell broke loose.�
�She changed her mind, ordered your execution?� Hammond asked.
�Apparently.� The rage drained from her sallow features replaced with a blank expression Jack had seen too many times in the mirror. A soldier�s fa�ade, designed to hide the grief and guilt generated by a perceived failure. �Sergeant Gray was able to grab a pain stick and distract one of the Jaffa. There was a lot of confusion. That�s when I radioed Airman Hasp to dial home. By the time we were able to break for the Gate, Sergeant Gray was down. We holed up in a copse of trees and waited for SG Unit three and six. The Jaffa were holding the clearing. If reinforcements hadn�t come through when they did� No chance of going back for Jonas or Gray�s body��
�I understand,� Hammond reassured.
Karen turned away and reached for a glass of water, effectively ending the discussion.
The General scanned the length of the table, his jaw working spasmodically as he considered the situation at hand. �People, I don�t need to tell you that rescuing Jonas Quinn is a top priority. However, there are certain obstacles standing in the way of this command moving forward with that objective.�
Jack swallowed the urge to interrupt. The General would tell as much or as little about Kinsey�s involvement as he deemed necessary. His gaze drifted across the faces that surrounded the table. Teal�c was pragmatic as always. Kinsey�s threats to his life were nothing new. He had lived among the human population long enough to know that it held its share of freaks who wouldn�t think twice about dissecting him, even though Junior was no longer a factor. Daniel was clearly in pain, his complexion pasty, with a fresh sheen of sweat. He appeared to be listening with only one ear, his mind drawn inward by the revelation that Osiris was part of the picture and the implications of that knowledge. Sam was angry and defiant, her eyes grown large and dark as she controlled her feelings. He empathized with her the most. Her career put on the line by the warmonger in the White House. It was an assumption that she had yet to confirm. Jack repressed a guilty smile, he had meant to ask her�things just hadn�t turned out that way. Finally, there was Karen, oblivious to the intricacies of Kinsey�s past history with SG-1, but aware of the undercurrent of hostility the mere mention of his name provoked. The tall brunette focused her gaze on Hammond, avoiding Jack�s probing look. He wondered at her discomfiture, was it more than simple exhaustion?
Like there isn�t enough to worry about already, he chastised himself. Shaking his head, Jack brought his attention back to the General.
�As commander of this base, it is my duty to protect this planet from Goa�uld or other alien infiltration. It is also my responsibility to protect the people under my command from political maneuverings that could jeopardize their safety and the safety of this planet. Over the course of the last 11 weeks I have been maneuvered into a political situation that has been detrimental to all parties concerned. It is a situation I intend to remedy at my earliest convenience.� Hammond dropped his eyes and studied his clasped hands for a long moment. The silence grew and thickened, becoming oppressive, despite the spaciousness implied by the large windows and bright lights. �I felt that SG-1 as the flagship team of the SGC and you, Colonel Griffin as the leader of the off world operation in question, should be aware that I intend to move forward aggressively through military and political channels.�
�Sir�� Sam interrupted softly. �Do you intend to strike at the source of the problem?� she asked carefully.
�I do, Major.�
�How?� Daniel interjected.
Jack repressed a patient smile. Only a civilian, or more accurately a certain often overly zealous archeologist, could ask such a question and get away with it.
�I have the support of the Vice President and the Secretary of Defense on this matter, Doctor Jackson. The Vice President intends to invoke the 25th Amendment.�
Continued in Part Eight Reflections
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