"Daniel Jackson is a formidable warrior," Teal'c conceded. "I did not know he had such strength and speed."
"He usually doesn't," Jack said. "Just part of the fun on Adventure Planet." He leaned at a better angle against the ruined wall, the better to prop his head up and give his neck muscles a much-needed rest. "Look. If he's right, this thing may have delayed onset, so we need to watch each other just as much as we watch them, right? Stay alert for any signs of.. weird behavior."
"Such as a tendency to violence." Teal'c was quiet for a minute or so, then asked, "How will we then recognize a difference?"
"Teal'c! Was that a joke?"
"I do not believe it was, O'Neill."
Jack snorted and cut his eyes toward Daniel. Yep, the man was napping, head down. Too bad. He'd have liked to have had a witness to that; it had to be a landmark occasion.
"Do you believe we will survive this?" Teal'c asked.
"Hell yes. This is just another Goa'uld. We've kicked their bony butts before. There wasn't enough of Ra left to fill one of those canopic jars Daniel likes so much. By the time we finish here, Teal'c, this goddess is going to wish she'd never heard of Earth."
"I do not believe she has heard of Earth."
"Figure of speech."
JULIE FORTUNE
To JoMadge, without whom this book wouldn't be possible. Literally.
And to all of my fellow Stargate fans... hope I got it right, guys.
THANKS
To the staff of the Starbucks in Irving, for caffeine, moral support, and opening at 5:30 a.m.
Patient editorial assistance provided by Major William Leaf, US Army, ret., Jackie Leaf, JoMadge, and P.N. Elrod.
Joe Bonamassa, Eric Czar, and Kenny Kramme. Blues Deluxe saved me. Go buy it. www.jbonamassa.com
And to the nice folks at Fandemonium, who gave me the opportunity to play in their sandbox. (But I'm keeping the action figures.)
ell, that's..." Dr. Daniel Jackson's eyebrows worked up and down, then settled into a straight line frown. "...Interesting."
Which was one word for it, Colonel Jack O'Neill acknowledged, just not the one he'd have chosen. Screwy would have been better. Or, better yet, weird. SG-1 gazed - with varying degrees of repulsion or reverence - on the tableaux laid out in front of them. We have to keep moving, Jack thought. Otherwise, they'll pick us off one by one.
"Captain?" he asked, never taking his eyes off of the danger. Couldn't be too careful, at moments like these.
Captain Samantha Carter, whose brainiac tendencies he was only beginning to fully appreciate, didn't take the hint to move down the serving line. She cocked her shag-cut blonde head to one side, and looked completely fascinated. "It could be an alien life form."
"Ya think? Nothing on Earth is that color naturally... Teal'c, trust me, don't touch that." Teal'c, clueless, was reaching for the spoon and scooping some of the lime-green semi-solid substance - allegedly part of a balanced, nutritious breakfast - into a bowl. And putting it on his breakfast tray. "Look, I know you're brave, but really. Nothing to prove, here."
Across the chow line - or, as Jack had started to think of it, the skirmish line - Airman Collins, whose turn it was to take the abuse and serve up cheer with a side order of breakfast, was downright scowling. Jack gave him a brightly false, thin smile and ladled some oatmeal into his own bowl. Oatmeal was safe. Usually.
SG-1 was, ominously, the only human presence in the vast, hostile commissary environment. The only ones not actively at duty stations, anyway. And privately, Jack was starting to wonder if the chefs hidden away in the back really deserved the classification of human. He assumed there were chefs. It was possible there was alien technology involved.
"This food resembles rak'tal from my home world," Teal'c said. Daniel was doing coffee and eggs. Carter wisely stuck with hermetically sealed yogurt and some strawberries that only looked vaguely suspicious and finally took the hint - reinforced by Jack slamming his tray against hers in a bumper-car strategy - to move on from the danger of the glowing-green glop.
Which was lucky. Jack was sure he'd seen something in there move.
Teal'c was holding up the line again. The big guy - man, he was big, the sheer physical presence of him would be enough to make most alien life forms hold up their tentacles and surrender - was bent slightly forward, inspecting the mixed fruit with a slight frown grooving the skin around his gleaming gold forehead thing. He directed a slightly deeper frown at Airman Collins, who looked intimidated. Teal'c finally retrieved a bowl full of nuclear-colored cubes and moved on.
Jack wondered if the shaved head thing was a fashion statement. Most of the other Jaffa he'd seen (shot) hadn't favored the chromedome look. Have to ask him that sometime.
But given the frown, probably not right now. "So. Good stuff, rak'taff' he asked Teal'c.
"No."
"But you got it anyway."
"Do you not form attachments to campaign food, O'Neill?"
"Look, I admit, sometimes I get a craving for a good MRE..."
Teal'c looked blank, which might or might not indicate that he failed to understand.
"Meals, Ready to Eat," Daniel supplied, reaching over Teal'c for silverware. "Excuse me. Also known as Meals Rejected by Everyone."
"Who told you that?" Carter asked, amused.
"Major Kawalsky."
As soon as Daniel said it, there was that second of silence, that shadow that slid like an oil slick over Jack's soul. Charlie Kawalsky had been dead just four days. His had been one more in an endless series of memorial services Jack had attended, buttoned up in dress blues. It had also been the first one at which he'd refused to give a eulogy. He couldn't talk about Kawalsky. Not without remembering how he'd given the order to close the Stargate and shave off half of Kawalsky's skull.
Daniel either felt the tension or was off in his usual Daniel-place, because he went on with his voice pitched in the Sahara-dry range. "Jack, for the love of God, tell me those aren't limes next to the pancakes."
"Goes with the tequila syrup," Jack responded. Carter groaned. He poured whatever coffee that Daniel hadn't already appropriated, and took point, heading for his favorite table. Well, newly favorite. It was all pretty new around here. Still smelled of cleaning products and fresh paint, or maybe that was rak'tal. He settled down in a chair and began doctoring his oatmeal to his satisfaction. "Remind me to tell the General that we need to kidnap a real chef for this facility."
Daniel settled in the chair across from him, Carter at his elbow. Teal'c took Jack's left, settling into the plastic chair carefully - he still wasn't quite convinced, Jack thought, that Earth furniture wasn't going to collapse. Too used to the big-ass overdone stuff the Goa'uld liked.
Teal'c spooned the green goop resembling rak'tal into his mouth, chewed contemplatively, and announced, "It is not unpleasant."
"Sure, that's what you say now, just wait until they come up with the ever-popular goulash..."
"I have served in many places worse than this facility. Why would someone not wish to give service here?"
Oh. Right. Teal'c wasn't talking about the green stuff.
"It's just that here on Earth, people have a lot more freedom to choose where they want to work. And live," Daniel said. Always the lecturer. Hadn't changed a bit. Jack dusted his oatmeal with sugar. "Serving here in this command is probably not the hottest job in the world, for - well - people who aren't - "
"Crazy?" Jack offered. "Bug-eyed nuts? Clinically -
"Actually," Sam Carter cut in as she peeled back the lid on her yogurt, "General Hammond told me he's had to turn away volunteers for almost every position."
Jack gestured at Teal'c's rapidly disappearing bowl of goop. "
And yet, with the rak'tal."
"Sir, have you ever met canteen food you liked?"
"Beside the point, Captain, and I didn't notice you signing up for the green alien goo from beyond."
She surrendered the conversational field. Teal'c finished the bowl, got up and went back for seconds. Daniel watched him, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth, and said, "He's fitting in, don't you think?"
"Better than you," Jack said cheerfully. When Daniel blinked behind his glasses, hurt, he amended it to, "Okay, the first time. You remember. Ferretti had fun making your life hell, as I recall."
Carter watched with bright eyes. She was always alert for any tidbits of information between them about that first mission on Abydos. She'd read all the reports, Jack knew, but those probably didn't include the less than enthusiastic welcome Kawalsky and Ferretti had given a long-haired, four-eyed, sneezing geek who didn't know one end of an MP5 from the other. Daniel had been along on sufferance, and at the time Jack hadn't given a crap because he hadn't expected to survive the trip himself. And hadn't wanted to.
Something about this oatmeal just didn't smell right. Maybe it was the limes by the pancakes. Lime contamination.
"I don't think anybody around here will be kicking sand in Teal'c's face. Including Ferretti." Daniel said, and scooted over as Teal'c eased back in at the table. It wasn't so much the Jaffa's admittedly impressive physical mass as the even larger bowl of goop, judging by the way Daniel leaned away from it. "Ah, how is Ferretti, by the way?"
"Doing okay, according to Doc Warner. Couple of weeks in the infirmary, then some rehab. Practically a flesh wound" Granted, Jack's definition of "flesh wound" was more flexible than most, but he thought Ferretti would appreciate a lack of public concern. "Something wrong with your eggs, Daniel?"
"Still not used to home cooking, I guess." The man did look green around the gills. "I'm okay."
"Ah, the famous I'm okay. Get thee to the infirmary, let Doc Warner poke at you a while. That'll make you feel better."
Daniel pushed his tray back and focused on his coffee. "What time's the briefing?"
"Fourteen hundred."
"I forget, what is that in civilian time?"
"Two o'clock, Dr. Jackson," Carter supplied.
"You really don't have to keep calling me doctor. Not even my students did that, if they survived the first boring lecture. Daniel's just fine." He sent her a rare smile - rare these days, after having his wife Sha're taken from him, and pretty much everything else he had to care about. Jack had forgotten what kind of wattage Daniel had, when he turned it on. Even Carter, who he suspected was notoriously thick about these things, seemed to get a jolt.
"Daniel," she amended. "Right. You taught?"
"In my field, you can't exactly avoid it."
"Hey, we have something in common. I lecture every year at the Air Force Academy..."
Jack sat, watching the two of them chatting, like friends, remembering how long it had taken him to warm up to Daniel - admittedly, that had been his own problem, his head hadn't exactly been in a good place - and seeing Teal'c calmly accept his place next to them. Not speaking, but somehow participating anyway. Something in his body language, and those surprisingly gentle dark eyes.
This might actually work, he thought, and felt something that had been clenched like a fist inside of him - since he'd seen Charlie Kawalsky die - slowly relax.
It took time to build a team. Time, and trust, and respect.
He sipped coffee and was content to listen.
At fourteen hundred on the dot, Jack appeared at the top of the stairs in the briefing room. He surveyed the room, turned to Sergeant Siler, coming up the stairs behind him, and said, "Pay up." He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.
Siler looked over his shoulder, sighed, and took twenty dollars out of his wallet. Jack snatched it away.
Captain Carter, sitting alone at the conference table, watched with a frown buckling her forehead. "What was that?" she asked as he took a chair next to her at the big mahogany conference table. The leather sighed patiently under his weight.
"Well, Siler bet me that I'd be the first one here. I bet him that you'd be the first one here."
"Why me?"
"Because Teal'c will follow me-"And there, right on cue, was the heavy tread of Teal'c's steps on the treads, heading up. "And somebody's going to have to install an alarm clock in Daniel's ass to remind him of briefings, especially if he's reading, and I don't mean anything fascinating, I'm talking cereal boxes, here."
He kept it light, but he couldn't honestly tell if Sam Carter was one of those stick-up-her-butt officers who disapproved of gambling, along with dancing and drinking and smiling in public. Good to get it out in the open if she was. He could deal with it, but he wanted a little warning.
She looked at him for a few seconds, then said, without a flicker of her blank expression, "Twenty bucks says Daniel will be here in less than two minutes."
"Oh, I don't want to take your money, Captain." He gave her an evil smile. Hers was nearly a match.
"Well, I'd like to take yours. Two minutes." She tapped her watch.
"Five, and that's only if we page him."
"Done." She opened the fancy leather binders set out on the table and looked at the EYES ONLY red-striped folder inside. "P3X-595 sounds like a very interesting place, don't you think?"
"I hear it's nice this time of year."
"Actually, sir, from the axial tilt of the planet in relation to its star it's probably - "
He held up a hand. "Captain Carter, tell me: am I going to care about what you're about to say?"
She looked thrown, but only for a second. He was used to Daniel, who just kept talking. Nice to know his second in command actually listened. "Depends on how much you like hot weather, sir. It could be as hot as Abydos. We'll know more when the MALP data is fully analyzed."
Jack checked his watch. Forty-five seconds left on Carter's bet, which would put him up forty dollars in five minutes. Not bad, for a Monday.
Teal'c settled into a chair next to Carter, and he offered them a restrained, dignified nod. Jack responded with an absent "Hey," since he was focused on the seconds counting down. He raised a cautionary finger. Carter was checking her own watch too, brow starting to furrow in concern.
And then Jack heard a fast thump of boots on the stairs, and Daniel's disheveled head poked up over the railing. He had an arm full of books. "Am I late?" he asked breathlessly.
Carter should not look that smug. Not if she knew what was good for her. "Not at all, doctor."
Jack sent Daniel a mean, murderous look, which slid off without effect, since Daniel was juggling a notepad, a coffee cup, and some thick leather-bound books as he approached the table. "Daniel?"
"Jack?" He looked up over the tops of his glasses, blue eyes caffeine-bright.
"Why are you on time?"
Daniel held up his wrist. Strapped to it was a brand new Air Forceissue watch, complete with alarm features. "Captain Carter set the reminder function... T'
Jack turned to look at Carter. Her hand was out. Fingers wiggling significantly.
He sighed, dug Siler's twenty out of his pocket, and turned it over just as the door at the end of the room opened and Major General George Hammond stepped through. Big, balding, approaching retirement, he should have looked grandfatherly and missed it by a mile. Something about the eyes, which were as sharp and assessing as any drill sergeant's. Scuttlebutt in the halls said that Hammond's bullshit detector was legendary, and Jack had personal cause to know it was true. Hammond had certainly called his bluff the first time they'd met, with a dead-eyed threat to blow the crap out of Daniel and everybody left on Abydos.
If it had been a bluff. Truthfully, Jack couldn't quite tell.
He and Carter came to their feet until Hammond was seated. Daniel looked conflicted, as if he was wondering what the protocol was for a civilian; Teal'c rose a second later and offered a respectful inclination of his head. Daniel,
remaining seated, settled for a nod.
Hammond nodded back, confirming Daniel's choice, and then swept the rest of SG-1 with a look. "Be seated, people. We've got a lot of ground to cover." His gaze fell on the twenty-dollar bill in Carter's hand. "Offering me a tip, Captain?"
"No sir. Sorry Sir." She hastily stuffed it in a convenient BDU pocket.
Jack hid a smile and settled back in his chair, folded his hands over his unopened folder, and gave the General his best attentive expression.
"I trust everyone has reviewed the briefing materials."
Nods all around, except for Jack, who tried to keep the attentive look while shooting Carter a significant glance.
"There were materials?" he murmured. Daniel silently slid a memo down the table to him. "Oh. Those materials."
Hammond skewered him with a stare, decided not to press the issue, and continued. "As you know, the MALP data on P3X-595 shows a very warm Earthlike atmosphere, much like what we found on Abydos and Chulak, but with a higher humidity level. Dr. Jackson, go ahead with your briefing."
"Of course." Daniel slid out of his seat and pressed a control to dim the lights, then another to bring up a video still image. It was distorted and static-tattered, but clearly showed some kind of wide landing, with the steps leading down that seemed to be a design feature of just about every Stargate. "As you can see, this is... um... I guess the word would be unexpected..."
What made this one different were the people.
Lots of `em. Crowding around the MALP, looking curious. They were wearing what looked like...
"Togas?" Jack said, eyebrows raised. "Wait, didn't we just do the Rome thing back on Chulak?"
"I don't think each planet will necessarily have a different cultural derivation, and actually, those aren't togas, Jack, they're tunics or chitons, probably of Greek origin... notice the draping of the - "
"Greek?" Jack interrupted.
Daniel, undaunted, took it up right where he'd been. "Notice the draping of - "
"Daniel." Jack made it a flat two-syllable roadblock; Daniel's explanation crashed into silence. For a second, Jack was sorry, but only for a second. "Okay, fine, great threads. So what are we looking at?"
Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon Page 1
