The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  Dismissing him, Jack made a swift assessment of the Kinahhi force. A dozen of them, they were watching the SGC personnel with open suspicion, weapons kept neutral but only a heartbeat away from action. The situation was tinder dry. Jack turned to Woodburn, hoping for some kind of clue about what was happening, but he got nothing through the skim of ice covering the man's hard eyes. No friend there. "What's going on?"

  "That's, `sir' to you, Colonel."

  Jack returned a flat smile. "Oh, I don't think so."

  No response. He'd seen more expressive earthworms. He was about to comment on the fact when a commotion behind them drew his attention. Turning, he saw Daniel and Teal'c race through the door, then slide to a halt and stare around in confu sion. "What's going on?"

  "Exactly what I said!" Jack turned back to Woodburn. "General...?"

  It was Crawford who answered, all but bouncing with malicious delight. "What's going on, Jack, is that you're getting what's coming to you."

  "Really?" Jack refused to acknowledge the threat. "Are we talking about a boat?"

  Crawford's little black eyes narrowed. "We're talking about justice, Jack." His smile almost cut his face in two. "Kinahhi justice."

  Jack's stomach lurched. Clutching white fingers in the dark, coming out of nowhere...

  "What?" Daniel surged forward. "You can't send them there! They don't even have-"

  "Why not, Jackson?" Anger seeped through Crawford's obvious pleasure. "It was good enough for me. Wasn't it, Jack?"

  From the corner of his eye, Jack saw Carter's confused look. He ignored her, focusing on Crawford. "I made a mistake." The admission tasted foul, but was necessary. "But it's got nothing to do with Carter, leave her out of it."

  Crawford's smile returned and he took a step forward, eyes coming to rest on Carter as though seeing her for the first time. "Leave her out of it? Would that make things easier for you, Jack?"

  He said no more. He'd already said too much.

  The sonofabitch turned away, addressing one of the Kinahhi soldiers. "As per section three, paragraph four, item one of our treaty, I hereby transfer custody of the offenders to the Kinahhi military." He threw an exultant look at Jack. "Take them away."

  No one moved. Major Lee glanced over at General Woodburn. "Sir?" He might as well have said, Don't make me do this, sir. Jack felt for him.

  Woodburn's jaw jutted out. "Hand them over, Major."

  "No!" Daniel rushed forward again, Teal'c at his side. "Where's General Hammond? You can't do this!"

  Major Lee bristled and turned toward Daniel with his weapon half-raised. "Dr. Jackson, please..."

  Suddenly Teal'c was moving, as fast and graceful as a cat. He grabbed a sidearm from the nearest airman and leveled it at Crawford. "I cannot allow you to do this."

  At once, twelve Kinahhi weapons shot up, matched by a half dozen P90s. No one dared breathe. Jack watched the General's mouth open, an order on his lips. Fire? Stand down? Teal'c's finger tightened on the trigger. Disaster was a breath away.

  "Stop!" Jack stepped into Teal'c's line of fire, covering Crawford. "Teal'c..." Not now Save it. The Jaffa met his gaze, steadfast as granite. Letting this happen went against everything Teal'c believed in, Jack knew that. He also knew how he'd feel if the situation were reversed, but he couldn't let his friend gamble everything on a no-win bet. "It's not the time."

  "Jack?" Daniel looked appalled, but there was nothing Jack could say, not out loud. Find Hammond. Come after us. Sort this damn mess out! He put it all into the long look they shared, until slowly, angrily Daniel nodded. He understood. They both did, and reluctantly Teal'c lowered his weapon.

  "Disarm him!" barked Woodburn. Two airmen scurried to obey, pulling Teal'c's arms behind his back. They only succeeded because Teal'c let them, and Jack nodded his approval. Teal'c replied with a slight inclination of his head, but there was a promise in the gesture that Jack recognized. No one gets left behind. Then, with a final glance at Daniel, he turned back to face Crawford and the Kinahhi.

  An officer stepped forward, middle-aged and weather-beaten. Jack recognized him from their previous visit to Kinahhi, but he couldn't put a name to his face. "Restrain them," the man ordered. Two of his team stepped forward and bound Jack's hands in front of him with some sort of flex-cuff. They did the same to Carter, who was watching them all with guarded trepidation. He shared it and edged closer, letting his elbow nudge hers. Okay? She looked over and gave a slight nod in reply to his silent question.

  "Move out!" the Kinahhi commander ordered, and Jack found himself urged up the ramp toward the shimmering surface of the wormhole. Clutching white fingers in the dark, corning out of nowhere... Fear beat fast in his chest, but he ignored it. Buried it. They'd get out of this. He'd get Carter out of this. His mistake, and he'd be damned if he let her - or anyone else - take the fall for it.

  At the last moment he looked back, eyes fixing on Daniel and Teal'c. Their faces were like stone, hard and determined. It gave him hope. But then he caught sight of Crawford, following him up the ramp. He has a right, Jack reminded himself. This is exactly what you did to him, isn't it? Guilt and resentment mixed queasily in his gut, but the dark part of his soul wished he'd finished the job on the rat-bastard. An M24 sniper rifle would have done the trick, nice and clean.

  Crawford spoke. His voice was low, pitched for Jack's ears only. "Ironic," he murmured, as Jack paused before the event horizon. "You weren't supposed to come back at all. And this is so much more entertaining."

  Jack stared. "What the hell does that mean?"

  Crawford just smiled. "Have fun, Colonel."

  A hard shove sent Jack tumbling into the event horizon.

  As the wormhole disengaged, Bill Crawford turned and surveyed the silent gate-room. No one was moving. It was like a picture, a tableau of fractured faith. It made him smile. From the first moment he'd stepped into Stargate Command, he'd endured their disdain. He'd been the outsider, the butt of their whispered jokes. Kinsey's lapdog. Crawfish. But now the joke was on O'Neill. On them all. Major Lee was unable to meet the eyes of the alien, Teal'c, defiant despite the bonds holding his arms behind his back. General Woodburn shifted awkwardly, new to the base and these men, dimly aware that he'd been drafted into a viper's nest. And finally Jackson, as always wearing his feelings on his sleeve, radiating waves of disappointment and impotent rage. The family was broken, leaderless. And he, Crawford, was responsible for cutting out the knot of misplaced loyalty at the heart of the SGC - the knot Kinsey had always found so impenetrable.

  He allowed himself a smile and began to walk down the deceptively steep ramp, his footsteps clanging against the metal grid. In the end it had been too easy. O'Neill was a fool, predictable even without the advantage the sheh fet gave the Kinahhi. They'd offered him exactly what he wanted, and he'd been unable to resist. O'Neill the hero, doing the impossible to bring his people home. Sucker.

  Crawford stopped when he reached the end of the ramp. From here he could look down on them all. "Good work, Major."

  Lee said nothing, his jaw moving silently as he kept his eyes fixed on the inert Stargate. Crawford felt a beat of irritation at the man's lack of respect, but tamped it down. He held all the cards, all the power. Lee's defiance was irrelevant. He lifted his eyes to Woodburn. "Senator Kinsey wants to see you in his office for a full report, now that this is over."

  The General's eyes narrowed at the implicit order, but he nodded nonetheless. "Major," Woodburn said, "escort Mr. Teal'c to the holding cells and-"

  "You gotta be kidding." It was Jackson, latent fury re-ignited. "You can't do that, you-"

  Woodburn spoke over him. "And ensure that Dr. Jackson reaches his apartment. His access pass is to be withdrawn before he leaves the base and a man stationed outside his building."

  Eyes wide, Jackson pushed forward. One of the airmen halfheartedly reached out to stop him, but he brushed the hand away. "What is this? What the hell's going on?"

  "Spring cleaning." The triumphant
answer came from the doorway. Daniel spun around, Teal'c turning more slowly and with more dignity.

  "Kinsey." Daniel spat the word as the Senator strolled into the room, trailing his usual entourage of assistants and hangers on.

  Kinsey smiled nastily. "It's taken me a couple of years, Dr. Jackson," he drawled, "but at last I'm cleaning house. Getting rid of the dead wood clogging up operations, and beginning to make some progress." He waved toward the Stargate. "That thing might start proving useful."

  At first, Daniel didn't respond. He stood glaring at the Senator, face flushed and eyes bright. When he spoke, his voice was deadly quiet and precise as a scalpel. "You've sent them to their deaths."

  Kinsey shifted uncomfortably. A sign of weakness, Crawford thought. Never show them your doubts. It was one of the first rules his father had taught him: never show weakness. "I'm simply fulfilling the obligations of our treaty, Dr. Jackson. O'Neill and Carter have committed a crime. Even you can't deny that."

  Jackson was shaking his head. "Jack was set up. The Security Council let him take the plans on purpose, to get him out of the way." There was an icy pause, and then, "As I'm sure you're well aware, Senator."

  Treacherous blood rushed to Crawford's face and his heart thudded loudly. The Security Council let him take the plans on purpose... How did Jackson know that? Was he guessing? Was he bluffing?

  But the Senator was unfazed. "Nonsense." He turned away, anger masking his agitation and easing Crawford's flush of anxiety. Perhaps Kinsey was a better player than he'd realized. "General Woodburn, have these... people... taken away."

  With a nod, the General ordered Major Lee into motion. The Major looked like he was chewing nails, but didn't hesitate. Good little soldier-boy, do your duty. To his credit, Lee did the dirty work himself "Dr. Jackson, please come-"

  "I'm not done," Jackson growled, shaking off the hand Lee had rested on his arm and advancing on the Senator. "You have no idea what you're getting into. The Kinahhi are using you! The sheh fet is just the start, just a foothold here."

  Lee stiffened at the term `foothold', eyes snapping to Kinsey. The Senator simply shook his head. "Do you have any evidence, Dr. Jackson? Anything to back up your paranoid theory?"

  Teeth grinding together, Jackson shook his head. "Not yet. But-"

  "Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c chimed in. "There is much dissent and suppression upon the Kinahhi world. Your alliance with them is foolhardy. And dangerous."

  Kinsey turned on him in one of those flashes of temper for which the man was notorious. "My alliance," he snapped, "is the first time we've gained anything - anything! - useful from this program."

  Amen to that, Crawford thought

  "You are mistaken," Teal'c observed, but Kinsey bulldozed over him.

  "And it'll be a cold day in hell before I start taking advice on the fate of this planet from an alien with a track record of mass murder!"

  The Jaffa didn't respond, his face darkening. For a long time no one spoke. At length, Major Lee touched Jackson's arm again. "Sir, please come with me."

  Jackson didn't resist, but his furious gaze didn't leave Kinsey. "This isn't over," he warned. "I'll never let this rest."

  A sardonic smile twisted the Senator's lips. "What you'll never do is set foot on this base again, Dr. Jackson."

  Daniel shrugged indifferently. "There are other ways."

  Huge mistake, Danny-boy. Jackson didn't play the game nearly so well as Kinsey. Never show your cards.

  The Senator took an eager step closer. "Be careful, Dr. Jackson. Be very careful." With that he turned on his heel and marched through a gaggle of lackeys who melted out of his path, reforming seamlessly to trail behind him as he left the room. It was over.

  Crawford stepped off the end of the ramp, the click of his shoes on the floor the only sound in the room. "If I were you," he said, as he headed past Jackson, "I'd enjoy the vacation." He permitted himself a thin smile. "It might be your last."

  There was no answer, but as he left the gate-room he heard Major Lee's muttered words behind him, followed by the muted scrape of combat boots on concrete, and recognized it as the sound of victory. SG-1 had been broken. A new era was dawning at the SGC, and he intended to be a part of it.

  A big part.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  usk was creeping into nightfall, and through the window George Hammond watched as the trees at the end of his yard became silhouettes against the deepening blue of the sky. Above them a few stars shone, pinpricks of distant promise, but their bright sparkle did little to lift his dour mood.

  He hadn't moved from his chair near the window since he'd returned home this afternoon, escorted from the base by his own men. For their sakes, he hadn't made a scene. They were still following orders, even if he couldn't.

  I'm sorry, Senator; but I refuse to do that. "

  Those had been the words that had sealed his fate - and the fate of others - the proverbial straw that had broken the camel's back and given Kinsey the excuse he needed to finally push him out of the SGC. What that meant for the fate of SG-1 he could only imagine, but his imagination was vivid. It haunted him as he sat in the dark, second-guessing everything he'd done since Jack O'Neill had returned, battered and bruised, from Kinahhi all those months ago. Try as he might, Hammond couldn't think how he might have acted differently.

  As for this last crisis, he'd literally had no choice. There was no way on God's green Earth that he'd order Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter to be handed over to the Kinahhi. He simply couldn't do it. But in refusing, he hadn't saved them. He'd failed them, and now no one stood between Kinsey and his people at the SGC.

  Desperate anger twisted in his gut, eating him alive. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd built over the past seven years, had been torn away. Losing a limb would have been less painful. His fingers curled into fists where they rested on the arms of his chair, and he had to resist the urge to simply hit something. He was too old for such outbursts, but never in the last forty years had he ever-

  Someone rapped loudly on the door and Hammond found him self sitting bolt upright. After a moment the urgent knock came again. The house was in darkness; he doubted this was someone hawking life insurance. Pushing himself to his feet, Hammond strode through the dark living room, turning on lights as he went. Pulling open the front door, he stopped in surprise at the sight of the man in front of him. "Major Boyd."

  The young man nodded, glanced over his shoulder, and said, "Sir, I'm sorry to bother you at home but..." His face said it all - he looked like he'd been hit by a truck. Hammond could identify.

  "Come in, son."

  "Thank you, sir." Stepping inside, the Major glanced around once and then fixed his eyes on Hammond. He looked strained, his face pinched beneath his tan. No surprise, given what he'd been through. "Sir, I thought you should know what's going on back at the base."

  Fearing the worst, Hammond led the young man into his living room and waved him toward a chair. Boyd looked like he could use a seat. Hell, he looked like he could use a drink. Turning to his liquor cabinet, Hammond said, "I'm afraid I have a good idea what's going on, Major."

  "They've sent Colonel O'Neill and Captain - Major - Carter off-world, sir. To a prison, I heard."

  Even though he'd known it was inevitable, the fact hit like a punch. They'd done it, they'd actually done it. With a dull thud that set the glasses tinkling, the whiskey bottle came to rest on the counter. The incongruity sickened him; here he was, pouring himself a drink, while two of his best people had been shipped off to an alien jail because he couldn't save them. Had they put up a fight, he wondered. Had they looked for him, and found him absent? Had they believed themselves abandoned?

  No one gets left behind. Jack O'Neill didn't have a monopoly on that sentiment.

  When Boyd cleared his throat, Hammond realized he'd been silent for too long. "I know," he said quietly, pouring two generous glasses. "Senator Kinsey told me that was his intention. When I refused to hand the
m over, he had me relieved of command." He picked up both drinks and turned around. "When did it happen?"

  "A couple of hours ago, sir."

  He nodded. "Were they harmed in any way?"

  Boyd shook his head. "Not that I heard, sir. Although Chris Lee said it got kinda tense for a while." His face creased with puzzlement. "Sir, people say that Colonel O'Neill stole the technology that brought us home. They say that the rescue mission was unauthorized. Is that true?"

  With a nod, Hammond crossed the room and handed Boyd his drink. "It's true, Major." It felt like a confession. If Jack had played by the rules, everything would have been different. And not all for the better.

  Boyd digested the fact silently, staring at his untouched whiskey. "So no one else was coming after us?"

  "SG-10 was declared MIA five years ago, Major." It was a tough admission. "I'm sorry."

  "So, if it wasn't for SG-1 we'd be dead by now?"

  Or perpetually lingering on its brink. It was an uncomfortable truth for the General to hear. "Yes, that's correct."

  Boyd looked shaken, and Hammond wondered exactly how much sleep the man had gotten since his return. "Have you been home, son? Have you seen your family?"

  "No, sir. I-" He paused and frowned down at his hands. He was clutching the whiskey glass with white fingers. "It's been over five years for them, sir. I'm afraid-" Sudden emotion smothered his words and with a shaking breath he lifted the glass to his lips and downed its content in one go. He sat very still for a moment, staring at the empty glass. And then he looked up, haunted but in control. "General, it's not just Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter."

  The swift change of subject dealt the second blow. Hammond had been expecting it, but it was no less severe for that. "Tell me.