A Price Too High
By BadgerGater
E-mail: [email protected]
Summary: In the episode Scorched Earth, Jack’s thoughts as he faces an impossible choice
Category: Drama; Angst; thoughts
Season/Sequel: Four, missing scene for Scorched Earth, Jack's POV
Spoilers: A couple of very brief references to happenings over previous seasons
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent.
Author’s note: A controversial episode that provides food for thought, discussion and disagreement-- but it's nice to see that the world of Stargate isn't perfect, it's as flawed as it's human main characters, and that's a huge part of their, and the show's appeal. Perfect is boring. Imperfect is human and real.
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Your kids grow up. That's a fact of life except when... take a deep breath Jack, and say it... except when they die. They grow up, and every day as they grow up, they depend on you less and argue with you more. Charlie was like that, even though he wasn't with us very long. The last year or two of his life, there were difficult times between us. He was getting more independent, thinking on his own, developing his own distinct ideas, ones that didn't always agree with mine. That's the hardest part of being a parent, you know, realizing that you have to let them grow up, give them the freedom to be who and what they're going to be.
Even when you don't agree.
Let me tell you, it hurts.
So I've been here, done this, earned the dreaded t-shirt.
Mine says Failure in big letters.
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When Daniel came back from Abydos and joined SG-1, I was the dad and he was the kid. Sure he was 30 years old and owned enough diplomas to wallpaper my living room, had been married, and traveled the world, hell, worlds. He already knew more about more things than I'll ever learn in my entire lifetime, but he had everything to learn about life in the military and the darker side of human nature. Sure, he's a civilian, but he lives and works in my world, so there are things he needs to know and understand, not necessarily agree with, but understand, in order to survive here. I was his mentor, teacher, counselor, protector, and dad in all but name only.
Gradually, though, he grew up, learned the ropes, figured out how to stand on his own two feet, needed me less as the dad and saw me more as big brother. That was good, too. I have a lot of experience as big brother. I’m good at it.
And then he reached the point where big brother Jack was no longer the adored big brother he looked up to, but a big brother who was human, who made mistakes, who wasn’t able to live up to all his promises, who was fallible and imperfect. The big brother he argued with, not the smart-ass surface sarcastic good humored shit we'd always exchanged good-naturedly, but something that had somehow turned cutting, intense and bitter.
Family feud.
Nothing funny about this one.
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The simmering discontent came to a boil over the Enkarrens and the Gadmeer.
He knew I'd made my choice.
He made his choice. Even Teal'c acknowledged that.
Damn him for doing this to me.
I don't know what I ever thought I saw in a friendship with Dr. Daniel Jackson.
Does the man annoy me on purpose? Go behind my back? Push my buttons? Yeah, yeah, I know he doesn't do it just to make my life hell, but is he totally clueless as to how crazy this makes me? I’m responsible for his safety, that’s my job and I take it as seriously as he takes his job.
I know he's doing what he thinks is right, but so am I. I don't expect him to agree, but can't he understand that I'm faced with an impossible situation, a no-win situation, and yet I have to make a choice?
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If I do nothing, these people will die.
People I know, people we know, people we moved here.
People we promised to take care of.
People I made a promise to.
How am I supposed to live with myself if I break a promise like that? If I let thousands of human, well, damn near human beings die; men, women and children, even children yet to be born. A child that's supposed to be my namesake. A leader who greeted us with open arms and called us heroes. People we shared meals with, people we worked and laughed with, people who have hopes and dreams.
Children.
I've watched too many children die. One was more than enough. I can't let this happen. I can't.
Daniel, if you think this is so easy, then *you* go tell them. *You* stand in front of them, look them in the eye and explain to them, ‘sorry, you are going to die, and I'm going to let it happen.’ *You* do that, and then tell me I'm wrong, misguided, xenophobic and humanist. Of course I put the humans first. They're here, standing in front of me, and I *know* them. I don't *know* those other creatures. What gives them any more right to this planet then the Enkarrans?
I asked him to give me options. I needed alternatives. God, I wanted someone to give me another choice. But did I get options? No, I got pleas not to do it, demands to stop, lots of dark looks that said I was wrong, but neither Daniel nor Carter could give me one single solitary viable alternative.
I have to do something.
Doing nothing is as much a decision as doing something, don't they see that?
I either do nothing, and watch all these familiar faces die.
Or I do something, and a bunch of maybe smart, *maybe* friendly, *maybe* good guys, maybe not, maybe die, maybe just have to wait a while longer until someone can figure out how to help them terranova some other planet.
And to be brutally honest, how do we *know* they're good guys? Just because they say so? Yeah sure you betcha. I'm supposed to believe that? So far, we haven't found many high-tech aliens that could be believed, much less trusted. Remember Alar and the Eurondans? They said they were the good guys; they told us they were the men in white hats who needed our help to win their just war against their attackers. They played all sweet and friendly, chummy pals, and look what *they* turned out to be.
Come to think of it, have we *ever* met bad guys who thought, much less admitted, that they were the bad guys? Who weren't convinced *they* were in the right? Like that keeper guy, who held his people in their little machines. He started out protecting them from the planet and then, after a while, protecting the planet from them. Like those judgmental folks who sentenced us, without a fair trial I might add, to life imprisonment on Hadante because we innocently violated some totally unfair law we didn't even know about.
Like the Goa'uld. They don't think they're the bad guys. Remember, good Ol' Ziplock, when we had that triangle court thingy on Tollana, he argued the snakes were in the right to take hosts. He said they were benevolent good guys, enslaving poor pitiful humans for their own protection. Sheesh.
Quite apparently, there’s no interstellar law that says the bad guys have to go around wearing flashing neon signs that say, “Warning! Evil villain alert!”
So these Gadabout lizard-people program their cute robot guy Lotan to tell us they're gentle and peaceful. Yeah right. Like I'd believe that. Like Daniel ought to be believing that. After all, wasn't he the demanding, suspicious one back on Euronda? Where's his radar this time, huh? Where are his suspicions and questions?
If these Gadflies are such good and wonderful folk, why wouldn't their ship stop terracotting, at least temporarily, when it discovered humans were in the way? Huh?
Well, kick me for being the suspicious one this time.
Crap.
I’m damned if I do and damned if I don't, but I have to make a decision.
Hammond wasn't any help.
Neither was Carter or Teal'c or Daniel. They all disliked what I was doing, but when push came to shove, none of them offered any better alternatives.
If I’d have had time, I'd have found another way. I would have made the Enkarrens leave. We'd have found them another planet, I'm sure we could have, Carter's that smart, she'd figure out something. But we didn't have time. If we took them away now, with nowhere to go, they'd die. They’re people too, maybe not as exotic as the Gadget lizard people on that ship, but that doesn’t mean we should condemn them just because they’re ordinary.
So these aliens, the Gadmeer, they said they had to finish terra-foaming this planet because they don't have the resources to fix up some other place to live. Maybe in time we could find them some other place. But they weren't willing to wait.
Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Whatever I chose to do, someone or something was going to die.
Along with a piece of my soul.
How could Daniel do that, go up onto that ship when he knew what I have decided to do? How could he put me in this position? How could he choose to make me do this? How could he think I could live with this?
Does he think I can make that choice, choose the life of my friend over the lives of thousands of other people?
Does he think so little of me?
Doesn't he remember what it did to me before, to cause the death of someone I was responsible for, someone I'd cherished? Does he think I could survive the guilt a second time? Has he forgotten already? I haven't. I never will. I can't go through that again.
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There’s no more time. I look around me, at the hundreds of Enkarrens, frightened but determined, staring defiantly up at the huge ship towering above us. They have no where left to go. They’re looking to me, to Jack O’Neill, for help, for support, for safety; for what I promised them.
My heart has stopped.
I can't breathe, but my finger obeys my order and pushes that button, activating the bomb.
God forgive me, because I'll never forgive myself.
I've destroyed us both, Daniel.
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Epilogue:
We got unbelievably freakin' lucky.
Daniel is alive, the Enkarrans are alive, and the Gadmeer are alive.
But I think a part of me died on that stinkin' planet, died when I made one more hellishly painful decision, one more choice between people I care about, one more choice to put the greater good above my own soul.
I know that's the price of command.
But it's a price that's too high.
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FINIS