O'Neill sat at the briefing room table, staring out the large window at the Stargate, the hated crutches propped against Daniel's empty chair, his mind on the last conversation he'd had with his friend before Jackson and Teal'c had gone off world. Conversation? Argument would be a better word. It seemed that's all they did anymore.

If Jack was truly going to be honest with himself, the relationship between the SG-1 team had been going downhill since his and Hammond's deception regarding the stolen technology. Military by choice and training, O'Neill knew Sam and Teal'c had understood he was simply following orders, doing what had to be done to prove Earth's honesty and loyalty to their allies. They understood and although Jack knew they were upset about being used, they had forgiven him, and were working past it. But Daniel....

There was an ingrained honesty and trust in Daniel that had been damaged. Damaged when his best friend, had looked him in the eye and lied. Looked him in the eye and implied their friendship was nothing more than the younger man's wishful thinking.

If Daniel hadn't been devastated by such heartbreaking news, he probably would have noticed the supposedly retired colonel was having extreme difficulty keeping up the farce. Jack had seen what the hurtful words were doing to his young friend and it had taken every ounce of strength to maintain the fallacy. The beer in his hand had been Jack's savior, as drinking, he focused his attention on the bottle, to ignore the pain in Daniel's eyes which tore at his heart. Watching Daniel move for the door, Jack had damn near bit his tongue to keep from screaming out how he would explain everything as soon as possible. Jack's guilt was overwhelming for he knew once again Daniel was feeling like he'd put all his trust in someone, only to be disappointed as he had been all his life. Now, the person Daniel trusted most had let him down...had implied their friendship, their trust in each other was nothing but a cruel joke.

Despite the harsh words between them, O'Neill, somehow, knew his friend understood. He understood and had forgiven him, but that unconditional trust they had between them was gone, or maybe it was just buried deeper in Daniel's forgiving soul, waiting for Jack to prove again he deserved that rare treasured gift. With the loss of the scientist's trust, Jack had come to fully realize in one overwhelming blow how much he needed Daniel's faith in him. It wasn't until he didn't have those trusting blue eyes staring at him that Jack understood what he had lost....and what he needed.

Now, it seemed the soldier was always finding himself on the defensive with the archaeologist, his own guilt making him unusually harsh with the younger man.

"Colonel?"

Jack glanced over his shoulder to find Carter standing in the briefing room door, an expression of puzzlement clearly written on her face.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

"Thinking Carter...What are you doing?"

"I was on my way to the control room. I promised I'd help Graham run a diagnostic on the system." She motioned toward his leg. "How's the knee, sir?"

"Good as new. Janet just wants me to keep my weight off it a couple more days." A bad spill down a rocky incline had laid the colonel up for more than a week now. "The good news is, for the first time in my career, all my paperwork is up to date."

Carter smiled, knowing how inactivity affected her commanding officer, surprised he wasn't growling like a bear and tearing anyone who got in his way a new six. She hesitated as his eyes traveled back to the gate. "He'll be fine, sir. Teal'c will watch out for him."

"I know, Carter." The words were soft, his concern evident. "Got a minute?"

"Sure." Sam refilled his coffee cup, pouring herself one, before taking the chair opposite Jack.

Rarely one to mince words, Jack blurted out bluntly.. "What's your impression of Colonel Thorp?"

Carter frowned at his choice of topics. "Excuse me?"

"That was a simple enough question Carter...I want your take on Colonel Thorp. You were with SG-8 on the recon to-where ever, a couple months ago." A twinge of apprehension twisted his insides, as her gaze dropped to the table, her white teeth chewing at her bottom lip. "Off the record, Sam....This is just between me and you."

"I don't know the man that well, sir, but..." Her voice trailed off as she struggled to put her feelings into words.

"But?" Jack pressed impatiently.

She took a deep breath, then, "I don't like him, sir. There's something about him....he gives me the creeps okay?"

"Is that a scientific definition?" His guip eased the tension.

"Sir, I've heard things, in the locker room,...the cafeteria....he's..." From what she knew of O'Neill's history, what she was about to say would probably hit a little too close to home. "The talk is, sir he's a hard ass by the book officer who insists on absolute obedience to orders." Carter pressed on when raised eyebrows were O'Neill's only reaction. "According to scuttlebutt, sir, Colonel Thorp has no patience for anything non military. He has very little regard for women or...."

"Or?" Jack almost whispered, dreading what he knew she was going to say.

"Anyone he considers different, sir."

"Different?" His voice sounded small.

"Inferior, sir." she admitted lowly.

Jack rocked back in the chair. Several years ago, in a different time and under different circumstances Jack himself had been a hardnosed, by the book officer who rarely tolerated anything non military, but a geeky, young archaeologist had turned his world upside down, and set his viewpoint back on the right track. O'Neill knew he had a tendancy to be short sighted at times with little patience for things he didn't understand fully, but he had never been...

"Are you telling me he's a racist?!"

"No, sir....well....." The astrophysist's loss for words stunned him. "Sir,..."

"It's Jack. We're off the record here, remember?"

"As I'm sure you know, Colonel Thorp has an impecable record, but rumor has it he doesn't listen to anyone, he doesn't solicite opinions and doesn't tolerate his subordinates offering any advice. He has zero tolerance for anything or anyone that doesn't meet his standards."

The colonel scowled, not liking where the information was headed. "His standards?"

"Military standards, sir." Carter stared at the liguid in her cup for several moments. "Jack....On that recon to PJ5X337, I was treated with a total lack of repect and.....well....rudeness, I guess. The colonel made it perfectly clear I wasn't welcome or wanted on that mission. He did everything possible to undermine the authority provided by my rank, short of out right saying I slept my way to Major."

O'Neill felt a flame of anger burning through his veins. Sam worked hard at her career and had deserved every promotion she'd received. Even if she weren't a major in the Air Force, and a member of his team, she was still a human being, and deserved to be treated with decency and respect.

"To put it bluntly, sir, he's a grade A asshole who treats his team like they were nothing more than paper targets. They're not people, just weapons to be used or sacrificed to reach his objective." Carter's blue eyes flashed fire. "It doesn't matter to the man who a person is or what they've accomplished. His opinions are well known, among the personnel, sir. I personally haven't heard him state it outright, but it's a well known fact he thinks women should be kept barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen, blacks should still be in chains on plantations, Latinos should be sent back where they came from and Asians should be wiped from the face of the earth. There's no give in the man, Colonel. He makes it perfectly clear you're to do what you're told, the second you're told and without question."

'Oh My God!' Daniel was with this man on a planet light years away. Daniel who questioned everything. Daniel who, unless it was in the middle of a firefight, considered orders nothing more than strongly worded suggestions. His passive, gentle friend who always searched for a peaceful solution; always sought an alternative answer. Daniel who definately didn't view things from a military aspect. It was all too clear Thorp had no tolerance for everything that was Dr. Daniel Jackson.

Was that what Daniel had been trying to tell him that day in the locker room, before stepping through the gate with SG-8? O'Neill had chalked up his friend's obvious reluctance to the mission as his desire to remain working on the artifacts brought back by SG-4, but O'Neill should have known better. The crumpling temple on P3J 7795 was full of artifacts and heiroglphics and the colonel knew his friend well enough to know Daniel would normally have been in academic hyperdrive to reach the planet. Jack suddenly remembered the flash of fear in his friend's azure blue eyes, just before Daniel had ducked his head and hurried from the room. Daniel had known.

Unless lost in his own little world of archaeology, Daniel was unusually observant. He didn't have the military mindset or training to alert him when entering an unknown situation but Daniel studied everything from all angles, twisting it around in his mind like a Rubick's cube.

When had Jack forgotten that? Why had he suddenly become blind to the fact Daniel had good instincts and noticed things about people. Traits others might overlook. As unlikely as it seemed, in seeing only the good in people, Daniel's inner sense for bad was finely tuned. Add to that, the fact everyone liked Daniel; people just instinctively trusted him and would talk to him about things they wouldn't to someone in the upper ranks and he became a natural source of enlightenment. Had the scholar given in to the soldier's wishes so often Jack had begun to take it for granted? The kid had known what Thorp was like and had been afraid of him and this mission. If Jack hadn't had his head up his ass lately, he could have seen that too.

"Why the hell hasn't anyone ever said anything?!" O'Neill demanded. "You know as well as I do, Hammond wouldn't put up with that attitude!"

"As far as I know, sir, Colonel Thorp has never crossed the line, which makes it whoever's word against that of a decorated officer." Carter met his concerned brown eyes and reading the worry there, repeated her earlier sentiments. "Teal'c will watch out for him, sir."

As if to deny her words, the alarm klaxons suddenly blared followed by Lt. Simmons announcing incoming travelers. Jack spun his chair about to face the blast window, his heart in his throat as the very person they were discussing stepped through, calling for a medical team.

O'Neill released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as the rest of SG-8 stepped from the watery flux. Relief flooded through his body as he realized the person on the stretcher wasn't Daniel. His progress slowed by the crutches, Jack reached the embarkation room when the door slid opened. He fell back against the wall as the medical team rushed by Janet staddling the body on the gurney performing CPR.

"Colonel Thorp?" Hearing Hammond's unspoken question, O'Neill's attention returned to the gateroom.

Thorp turned back from the gate, his expression unperturbed. "Peterson was taking the last watch. We found him this morning at the bottom of a small cliff. It looks like he may have lost his footing in the dark."

Hammond nodded at the explanation. "Get yourselves checked out. We'll debrief in one hour."

"Yes, sir. With your permission, sir, I'd like Mason and Wright to return immediately. There's been no problems, but I don't like the thought of Dr. Jackson and the Jaffa alone in those ruins. They don't appear very stable, sir."

"Permission granted." Hammond signaled for Lt. Simmons to redial the coordinates.

An hour later, Jack sat listening to the colonel's brief, to the point report, studying the man through different eyes. Like Carter, he didn't know the man except in passing and it seemed as if that's the way Thorp wanted it. Due to the nature of their work, most of the SGC personnel were an exceptionally close knit group, especially the off world teams, but since his transfer in several months earlier Thorp had gone out of his way, to avoid any type of social contact or interaction with the other base people. He ate alone, didn't welcome visitors into his office and left the complex as soon as his duties were completed.

"....And Dr. Jackson has assured me he will be done with the translations and excavation by the end of the week, sir." Thorp concluded.

O'Neill's head snapped up. Daniel...putting a time limit on a archaeological excavation? He didn't think so! How many times had the scientist patiently tried to explain to the impatient leader of SG-1 you had to move with extreme caution and tender care while handling items that had been buried for thousands of years. Considering, the translations as well as anything recovered could provide essential information in their fight against the Goa'uld, Daniel would never rush or offer an exact time when the work would be finished. If time was of the essence, the linguist would work himself to the brink of collapse, only stopping to rest when O'Neill insisted. Jack knew from experience how many times he had, often physically, had to force his young friend to take time to sleep.

"As much as I would like to wait for news on Peterson's condition, sir, I think it would be best if I returned to my unit."

"Of course. I'll send someone through with word as soon as we know anything." Hammond nodded, rising. "Dismissed."

"I take it Daniel doesn't think there's anything of real significance in the temple?" Jack asked, hobbling awkwardly on his crutches, following Thorp to the embarkation room.

"On the contrary, O'Neill. He reported the translations as describing a possible weapon that may still be hidden somewhere in the temple itself." Thorp stood, his back ramrod straight, watching as the gate-ring spun and the chevrons locked into place. He turned to observe Jack, his expression bordering on repugnance as he added, "You should be commended, Colonel for putting up with that....civilian as long as you have. I have never met anyone so undisciplined and argumentative in my life. The man doesn't know the meaning of the words order or protocol."

"That's my Danny." O'Neill forced a laugh. "I hope he isn't giving you too hard a time about sleeping and eating. He tends to forget essential things like that when it comes to anything archaeological."

Thorp snorted condescendingly. "I'm not his babysitter or his father O'Neill! I don't give a damn if the man works himself to death, as long as he follows orders and does his job." Dismissing O'Neill he turned to walk up the ramp.

"You know Thorp, there's a few other words Daniel doesn't know the meaning of," Jack called out, causing his counterpart to stop half way up the ramp.

"Such as?"

"Immorality...dishonesty....injustice....unethical....intentional cruelty."

Glaring at Jack with a look of utter disgust, the SG-8 leader, turned and entered the event horizon, leaving a fuming O'Neill to stare at the flux.