After the first month, the no sex policy went quickly out the door once people learned that Jack didn’t care as long as jobs were done to the best of their abilities and no jealous duels were started over assumed territory. He saw the example on alien ships; the connection made them closer and more likely to fight harder for each other, as well as releasing tension. Let people be people, he decided.
Jack insisted that the crew spend off-duty time in as much recreation as possible, to off-set their on-duty time. Being confined in such tight quarters 24/7, play-time was important or people would blow up. Read, watch movies, play; he didn’t care, just do something to work out the tension. Too many soldiers returned home, only to commit suicide.
Most intelligent beings were cooperative, Enki told him; cooperative beings had brains that told them to cooperate, not kill each other. When soldiers were abruptly dropped from the battlefield and back into peaceful territory, their brain was unable to adjust to the atrocities committed in the line of duty, and they imploded. Jack didn’t want any ‘implosions’ from his command. Play, people, get it out of your system.
Col. Markham gave him looks and made small comments under his breath about protocol, but Jack told him to chill and think of it as an experiment. Major Davis was keeping a quiet watch on statistics, letting Jack know that performance stats were up while stress related issues were down. There had been a few blow-ups over women, but Jack didn’t need to step in; the women themselves dealt with it. They were not property, they would spend time with whomever they pleased, and if the men didn’t like it, they were put on the social no-contact list. The Anunnaki women were all supportive of their baby sisters.
Much to Jack’s embarrassment, Jonathan had taken to being the entertainment during what little down-time they had. More often than not, he could be found with his guitar, fronting a home-made band and getting people to dance. Once or twice Jonathan had goaded Jack into a song, much to the good-natured enthusiasm of the troops. During one of their 303 commander meetings, Jack was surprised when Col. Caldwell also jumped up onto the stage and helped Jonathan rock the house down. The man was a pretty good, slightly raspy baritone. Caldwell blamed it on the cigarettes he had smoked for years. Until he was put on the 303. Smokers didn’t stay smokers, once they were put into space. Even Col. Markham had to admit that the crew was more together after such events. The Sua had to wait for landfall until they could build bonfires for their drums. They tried to build a bonfire on a cargo deck after bringing in wood from one of the planets they visited, and were startled when the ship’s fire system took over.
Such events were few and far between on some stretches of the battle. There were many weeks when all they did was fight enemy ships without let-up. Entire motherships had been taken, and smaller vessels took them over as home ports. The cramped spaces on the other ships were relieved as personnel transferred to the ha’taks. The closer they got to Baal’s position, the more desperate Baal’s fleet fought.
Baal sent a message that he wanted to talk truce, but Jack refused; he knew better than to believe a Goa’uld would keep the truce. His council agreed with him. Other calls came in, requests for asylum. After questioning, Thanatos confirmed that many were hidden Masharu. Jack reminded him of free-will and not to trust someone just because they say one thing. Interrogators took over and a few of the asylum seekers had been executed. Most Jaffa willingly surrendered to Bre’tac, and slaves were offered the chance to fight or sit it out in a ha’tak until they could be returned to their home worlds. Many chose to fight.
A few battles were fought on the ground of one planet or another. Jack more than once found himself on the back of a race called Ras that served on Thanatos’ ship. They reminded Jack of centaurs; half horse and half human. Pony sized, not full horse sized. And they didn’t mind carrying riders. Jack got to know one called Mitraka and they became regular partners when they were on ground. Teal’c’s Ras was called Pashly. The troops were startled, at first, when the Ras were brought out of hiding, but quickly got used to them, as they did with any other alien race. The Goa’uld Jaffa seemed outraged that the Tau’ri would resort to ground fighting on something other than their feet.
Reports were sent back to Earth, and Jack was relieved to hear that Earth was still safe. A world-wide party was being had after he sent news back that Enlil was dead. News of the space battle with the Goa’uld was smuggled into the general population, and everyone was avidly eating up the images being sent back from the 303 cameras. The Pentagon tried to stop the public from viewing it, but Hammond convinced them that the public deserved to know. The public found it strange to watch the space battle; after years of movies, they automatically expected sound effects. All they got was dead silence. Sound didn’t travel in space. Not much more than a few inches, anyway. Neither did fire. Ships that blew up or were hit were simply whole one minute and drifting with debris the next. Any fires were confined to the internal portion of ships, anyplace with oxygen present.
All the kids sent messages and Jack kept pictures of them plastered all over his quarters. Olivia had discovered her toes. Jack recorded stories for her to watch, so that she would know his voice and his face. Many mommies and daddies sent recorded story-time messages, and story books were circulated throughout the ships so that they had new stories to share.
More Goa’uld surrendered to the Alliance. Jack used the pukku on them and found that Camulus had been right; when the Goa’uld was dead, the host quickly died, too, having been host too long. Sometimes there was a brief moment of horrifying clarity for the host, and death was the blessing. Jack sent many of the images to Baal. Over an open channel, of course.
The ground battles were the worst. All too often they left a planet flowing with rivers of blood. Mostly red, a few dashes of orange, purple, green, and blue. Jack found it hard to believe that the natives were thanking them for freeing them from the Goa’uld, when they were hip deep in the dead and dying. In the middle of the second month, Jack had found himself no longer able to feel after burying one child after another. It seemed that not a day went by when he wasn’t burying someone or pulling a sheet over someone’s head.
Only seven weeks had gone by, and it seemed like an eternity. All Jack could smell was blood and the dead. He was a ghost when he walked through the Prometheus to his quarters. Someone must have whispered a word to his private council because he didn’t even hear his door chime until Ninurta sat on the side of his bed.
“You’re a mess, ahu,” the warrior told him gently. He touched the soot on Jack’s face and looked over the blood and bruises. A section of hair was matted down with blood and dirt, but the wound had been minor and was encrusted over. “Come on,” he stood and took Jack’s hand, giving it a gentle tug. Jack stood without a word. Ninurta herded him into the shower. Jack was gently scrubbed from head to foot, taken out, dried and put to bed. Jack lay back on his bunk, an arm over his face. Seven weeks; they had been at it for only seven weeks and he had seen more blood and death than he had seen in his lifetime. Were they doing the right thing?
Dead bodies rose up to greet him. They gibbered at him, threw blood on him, hit him with torn off limbs and entrails. Children looked up at him with dead, hollow eyes. Daniel, Sam, and all their children spoke to him in the dual voice of a host. Snake after snake lunged at him until his body was splitting at the seams with all the snakes in him. Charlie stood in front of him, a symbiote head weaving in and out of his belly. Jack yelled and clawed at the bed.
“Jack!”
He refused to hear the voice, shaking his head. He was roughly shaken and he sat up quickly, fists raised. “It’s me, Jack!” Ninurta said loudly, grasping his wrists, struggling with him. Taking a deep, shocked breath, Jack yanked himself free and turned away, his whole body shaking. “You’re alright,” the warrior said quietly. “Let it go.” Whether it was the calm acceptance in the warrior’s voice or his partners, somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack found the strength to wail into the thin mattre
ss.
When he was worn out, Ninurta handed him his t-shirt. Jack wiped his face and blew his nose before tossing it to the floor and putting an arm over his eyes.
“Do you believe in a soul?” Ninurta asked as he sat on the floor, his back against the bed frame where he had been watching over his friend.
“Yes.”
“Then believe that those souls are not lost,” Ninurta said. “They will return. Let them know of your sorrow for them, ask their forgiveness, and beg them to return in a new body. It is also time to forgive yourself, ahu. You are the only one holding you responsible for Charlie.”
Jack was silent for a while, contemplating his inner eyelids. “You’ve done this for thousands of years?” he asked after a while.
“It was hard, at first; there was a time when our feelings were shut off,” Ninurta confessed. “All that death and quite a bit of it unnecessary. The innocents are the hardest. When we discovered that we were faced with becoming like the Goa’uld or destroying the remainder of our race through our own internal fighting, the Nox smacked us upside the head. They were still interfering way back then; this holier than thou thing they have going on is relatively new. They told us to cut the crap, love each other, don’t fight each other, and open our hearts to even the most horrific of things. Say YES to everything. Even when we must say NO, stop and say YES. That is the acceptance of life. Death is part of life. When we say NO to death and destruction, we deny life Her due. By saying YES, we stand in a place of beauty. Do you know why death, destruction, carnage is beautiful?”
Jack shook his head, staring at the dark, black hair of the man on the floor. “Because it is a direct reminder of the miracle of life. Feel, Jack. Always. One hundred percent of the time. Feel. Never stop. Scream, laugh, cry, but feel it. For every drop of blood spilt, say YES to life. This is why we love so fiercely; we cling to each other, insisting that we feel and celebrate life to its fullest.
“We are not immortal, Jack, we age and we die. We simply age much slower than you. After the first thousand years, we have seen all and we’ve done all. There is no more discovery. Many choose to die, instead of waiting for death to choose them. Those of us who remain do so either listening to the seconds tick by or we shut off all feeling. I have learned to listen to the seconds. We love each other. We touch, we hit, we caress, we scream and yell, we laugh, cry, speak our minds, our hearts, we kiss, we sing, dance, we look into each other’s eyes and praise each other. We do this as a reminder that we are alive.”
Jack was staring at him. “Do you always talk so much?” he asked.
Ninurta chuckled. “Yes,” he admitted.
“What does your name mean?” Jack asked. “Daniel said ‘Nin’ means Lady.”
Ninurta smiled. “It does,” he said. “It also means Lord. My language doesn’t really break down into gender specific categories, unlike the Semitic languages such as Arabic or Hebrew. ‘Nin’ is just a polite, general honorific for male OR female. Like Ma’am or Sir. ‘Urta’ is an earth reference. Lord of the Earth. Aba’s name actually means the same thing. ‘En’ is also an honorific which means Lord. More of a leadership honorific, than a general one. ‘Ki’ means earth. Lord of the Earth. Different kinds of earth, though. Ki refers to the living earth, the earth that grows. Urta is the plants and growing things. Apparently, I grew like a weed.”
Jack burst out laughing. Ninurta smiled, pleased.
“Jonathan means Gift of God,” Ninurta continued. “You think of yourself as Jack, though, and Jack means the Lord is Gracious. You are gracious, Jack; you have a tremendous heart. You have opened your home, your life, to five children. You see injustice and you’re the first person to stand up and point it out. The galaxy comes calling for help, and you rally the troops. It’s been too long since we met anyone with a heart such as yours, Jack, and we honor you for it.”
Jack leaned up on his elbows, looking at him.
“I don’t know what to say,” he quietly admitted.
Ninurta shook his head. “You don’t need to say anything. I proudly call you brother as well as friend. Aba has declared Daniel his own, a rare thing, by the way, so that makes you my brother, too. Know we are your family, Jack, and as family, you have the right of family. All of our people know this.”
He turned to look at Jack, his black eyes glowing with an inner light. “You should also make peace with Jonathan, Jack. He is very courageous; he could have taken the easy path and ended his life. It was an exceedingly cruel thing Loki did, creating him without a thought for the person. I don’t think anyone can even contemplate the true horror of Loki’s work.
“Jonathan is a living person, he has his own soul, and yet Loki treated him as a thing. Your body and mind may have been duplicated, but his soul is his own. Jonathan has chosen to explore his soul, the only thing he has that is NOT yours. That is why he has found himself happy with our family. You could not be happy in his place because that is not who you are. He is a consort, you are a lord. Those aspects come from the heart and the soul. He is at peace now. He can now grow and become his own person to the full extent of his soul.”
He had to admit that Jonathan had begun to grow on him; sometimes even forgetting that Jonathan was his clone. The young man had deliberately taken paths not chosen by Jack, therefore sending himself into new territory and a new life. It took courage, Jack could see that. He would consider Ninurta’s words.
Before Ninurta left, he told Jack to join them in their room once in a while; he would be among peers who understood him more than he knew.
The ship alarms then went off, sending Jack leaping from his bed to get dressed. The two men ran out the door, rushed through the halls and onto the bridge when they saw they had come to another planet that was surrounded by Goa’uld al'kesh. The Goa’uld were keeping with their M.O; they were terrorizing villagers who were not yet industrialized.
302s exited the ships like angry bees from a hive, and dove at the planet. The villagers were terrified when the new ships buzzed angrily into their skies. Their terror began to turn into hope when they noticed that the new ships were firing upon the others, instead of the village.
The 302s landed and Jack and Teal’c jumped out, chasing Jaffa into the forest. Jack winced and slapped a hand to the side of his face as something whizzed past him, and went down with an even greater pain in his leg; close calls from a staff. His face ached and he bled a bit, but it wasn’t anything he knew wouldn’t heal. Several men stopped and checked on him. The leg wound would also heal. Teal’c growled and blasted the Jaffa who aimed at Jack. They ran down Jaffa for half the day and then returned to the main village, weary and sore. Crying and sniffling punctuated the air as the locals gathered up their dead and wounded.
“General!” Jack looked around. Harper was waving him down. Jack went over, limping. A man was cradling his wife, his eyes terrified.
“A snake just shot into her,” Harper said, his zat pointed at the woman. “It came out of one of the dead.”
Jack pulled his MRI from his pocket and looked at the woman through it. He took the pukku from his utility belt and aimed it, watching through the MRI. Harper watched over his shoulder as Teal’c kept a zat on her.
“It’s gone,” Jack told the husband. “She’ll be alright.” He went around and MRI’d others, disintegrating any living snakes. Once more, he wished the thing could be reverse engineered so that others could have one, too. He helped to gather up the children, cradling them and singing silly nursery songs to them as their adults scurried around them. These children were still alive; he could deal with a few nursery songs.
The villagers were nowhere near equipped to head out into space with them; farming was their primary concern. Col. Reynolds was having a pow-wow with the village elders, every once in a while looking toward Jack as they spoke. The fields were mostly destroyed. The villagers were going to starve until the next crops could be harvested. Jack looked around, taking note of various animal hides, and motioned to a few pilots.
“Each of you take a local,” he told them. “Find out how much food will be needed until the next harvest, and get some game in here.” They acknowledged him and went out for a little hunting with 302s.
By nightfall, there was a pile of dead animals ready to be skinned and their meat dried. Experienced hands were brought down from the ships to help with the skinning and smoking so that the meat wouldn’t go bad. It took two days to make sure the village was set up; the meat was hanging, the grateful locals could take it from there.
Back on the Prometheus, triage helpers insisted on escorting him to sickbay for his own repairs. Once his face was fixed, Jack touched his cheek and worked his jaw. The side of his face was still a little numb from the anesthetic and surgical glue, but the doctor told him he would be fine. When he got his BDU’s off, Jack whitened. The doctor pushed him back down.
“Two more inches, and my wife AND our husband would have been without their favorite play toy,” he told the doctor. The nurse reddened and handed the doctor a syringe filled with more surgical glue.
The Anunnaki Unification, Book 2: A Staraget SG-1 Fan Fiction Story Page 13
