The Cost of Honor

by Stargate

  He shifted his attention from Crawford to Hammond. The General stood at the head of his strike team, who were lined up and waiting to move out, his eyes fixed on Jack. They'd had little chance to speak, and Jack was unsure of his footing with the man. A lot had happened since their last conversation in the SGC holding cell, but the fact remained that Jack was still a fugitive.

  As he and Teal'c walked past the silent, watchful ranks of SGC personnel, Daniel and Carter fell in at their sides. He tried not to think of it as the final moments of his team - the last hurrah - but it was impossible not to. And from the pensive silence of his friends, he knew they were thinking along the same lines.

  At length, they came to stand before Hammond. No one spoke, no one moved. The General was studying them earnestly, his expression difficult to read. Eventually, Jack bit the bullet and stepped forward. "I guess this is where I hand myself in, sir."

  Behind him, Daniel muttered under his breath. No one else said a word. The entire room was listening so hard that the silence seemed loud.

  Hammond fixed him with a long, steady look. Then a restrained smile touched his lips and he said, "As you were, Colonel."

  Jack blinked. "Sir?"

  "Take your team home, son."

  Your team?

  Hammond's eyes glittered as he nodded the affirmative.

  "Yes, sir!" Jack snapped off a salute and turned back to his team. Daniel was grinning, Carter was trying not to, and even Teal'c looked happy. His own feelings were too ambiguous to allow a smile, but a soul-deep relief washed over him like cool water. SG-1 were going home, together and more or less in one piece. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

  "Come on," he said gruffly, "let's go home."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  he sun shone brightly, warming the fall air over Cheyenne Mountain, when Jack stepped past the guard and out onto the steep slope. The trees were turning, dark red against the bright blue sky, and from somewhere far away drifted the tang of wood smoke. It felt like home.

  Hammond was already waiting for him, arms folded across his chest as he stood leaning against the hood of a truck and looking down at the small parking lot below. Curious, unsure of the reason for this summons, Jack joined him.

  "Nice day for a walk," he said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

  Hammond smiled. "Too bad I have a `to do' list as long as my arm, Colonel."

  Jack knew the feeling. After an unauthorized absence of over five months his own `to do' list was- Hell, he'd never in his entire life had a `to do' list. But there was a hell of a lot of paper spilling out of his in-tray. "So," he said, glancing from Hammond down to the parking lot and the single Humvee parked there, "what are we doing here, sir? Not that it's not a nice view..."

  "I wanted to talk to you, Jack," Hammond said, facing him. "Somewhere less official."

  Nodding carefully, Jack braced himself. They'd been back two weeks, and the fate of his team was still up in the air. Crawford's testimony had verified everything he and Carter had said about the sheh fet, and Kinsey - like the true rat-bastard he was - had thrown up his arms in horror at the deception of the Kinahhi, and lavished praise on the brave men and women of the USAF. Anything to save his own, stinking hide. Only the fact that the future of SG-1 hung in the balance had kept Jack silent; that and a look from Hammond as sharp as the crack of a whip. But the hearing had been over a week ago... "Have you heard?" he said at last.

  "Yes," said Hammond, never one to beat about the bush. "I got a letter from the Pentagon this morning."

  Mouth dry, Jack forced himself to ask, "What did it say?"

  "You've got a severe reprimand on your file, Jack. But," Hammond smiled, "they agreed with my recommendation - you've still got your job. And you've still got SG-1."

  Jack blew out a long breath. "Thank you, sir. I- You don't know how much-"

  "I think I do, son," Hammond said kindly, but then his face hardened. "Major Carter will also be reprimanded, but no other action will be taken. Dr. Jackson and Teal'c have been officially reinstated to the SGC."

  "Carter doesn't deserve-"

  "Doesn't she?" Hammond fixed him with a steady look. "She knew the orders were illegal, Jack, but her personal loyalty to you led her astray. You need to ensure she's not put in that position again. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sir." On every level. Sometimes life was damn complicated, especially where Carter was concerned. And not just her. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. Apologies weren't exactly his forte, but this one was overdue. "Sir, I just want to say- What I did, taking the plans from the Kinahhi, lying to you about it, going after Boyd without permission... It was a huge, huge mistake. And I'm sorry."

  Hammond's lips tightened. "I was mad as hell, I won't deny it." The words hit like a slap to the face, making Jack flinch. "I felt as though you'd taken advantage of my faith in you, but when I saw-

  "I was an idiot, sir," Jack blurted. "I hated that we'd left Boyd and his team behind, and I tried to fix it. I didn't realize the price would be too high."

  Hammond cocked his head. "Too high?"

  "I lost my team, sir. And I lost your trust. That's too high."

  "Almost lost," Hammond corrected with a half-smile. "You weren't the only one to make mistakes, Jack." Doubting the truth of that, Jack kept quiet and Hammond continued. "When you left to rescue Boyd I knew you weren't going on a standard recon mission, but I let you go. I could have stopped you. Perhaps I should have."

  "You let me go because you trusted me, sir. And I blew it."

  Hammond shook his head. "There are some people who'd dis agree with you on that, son."

  "There are some people who disagree with me on everything."

  Hammond smiled and turned back to the parking lot. "Maybe so," he said. "But I'm not talking about Dr. Jackson."

  Jack grunted in amusement, easing the weight of guilt around his shoulders. He took a deep breath and forced his muscles to relax. Below them, a blue sedan was winding its way up the mountain road, the engine noise just audible in the still fall air.

  "I was mad as hell, Jack," Hammond repeated after a while. "But then something happened to change my mind."

  "Kinsey?" Jack guessed. "The sheh Jet set up on Level 17? Kinahhi crawling all over the-"

  Hammond held up a finger to silence him. "Wait," he said, watching the Humvee in the parking lot.

  Its door was opening, and a guy in uniform climbed out as the blue sedan turned into the otherwise empty parking lot. Even from this distance Jack recognized the airman as Henry Boyd, tense and nervous. The car slowed to a halt and its driver got out, moving to open the rear passenger door. For a long moment nothing happened, and then someone stepped out into the sunshine. Blond hair glinted, and Jack knew her instantly. Heather Boyd. She stood and stared across the parking lot, stock-still, and then a hand shot to her mouth and she started running toward her husband. Boyd met her halfway and swept her into a fierce hug.

  His throat suspiciously tight, Jack turned away. The moment was too personal to witness.

  After a while, Hammond said, "Look, Jack."

  He did, almost reluctantly, and saw the kid, Lucy, holding her mother's hand and walking cautiously across the parking lot. When Boyd reached down to touch her face the kid smiled, stepped closer, and he hugged her tight to his chest, reaching out and pulling his wife into his arms as well.

  A broken family restored.

  Jack looked away, heart aching for his own loss, one that could never be restored. Charlie, Sara...

  "You still think the price was too high, Jack?"

  He forced a smile past the lump in his throat. "Well, when you put it like that..."

  Hammond clasped him on the shoulder. "You brought our peo ple home, son. You did good."

  Boyd and his family were slowly walking toward the waiting car, and Jack nodded. Maybe Hammond was right, maybe it was worth the price after all. For this moment, and for the future his team had restored to one fami
ly.

  Later, in the bustling control room of the SGC, George Hammond looked out into the gate-room with a smile of satisfaction. O'Neill stood talking to Teal'c, prepped and ready to go on the team's first official mission in over five months. Whatever they were discussing, it was animated. At least, O'Neill was animated. Teal'c had an eyebrow lifted in what could have been either amusement, or pain. The General suspected they were discussing hockey.

  Major Carter appeared next, bang on time as the gate began to spin and Harriman started the familiar countdown. "Chevron one, engaged." She joined her team with a grin, waving toward the gate and saying something he couldn't hear. O'Neill shook his head, and peered toward the doors. Dr. Jackson was late.

  The gate continued to spin, chevron after chevron locking. O'Neill glanced up at the control room with a shrug and tapped his watch. Hammond said nothing. Dr. Jackson would be there, he always was. And sure enough, a moment before it was too late, he came racing into the room, breathless and staring at the gate as if to ensure he hadn't missed anything.

  O'Neill made a wry comment, provoking a lengthy explanation cut off by the Colonel's raised hand as the final chevron locked and the wormhole engaged.

  For a moment the team in the gate-room stilled, staring up at the familiar magical shimmer of the Stargate. And then O'Neill looked over his shoulder, straight at Hammond, waiting for the order. The General leaned forward and took hold of the mic. "SG-1," he said, with real pleasure, "you have a go."

  Colonel O'Neill smiled, flipped a casual salute, and led his team up the ramp. Shoulder-to-shoulder, SG-1 stepped through the Stargate and out into the untamed galaxy beyond.

  For once, Hammond thought, all was right with the world. How long that would last was another question entirely...

  SG • 1.

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