“Lots of ‘ifs’ in there, Carter.”
She shook her head, but didn’t answer; she didn’t know what to say to him. What had happened to the indomitable Colonel O’Neill who never gave up and never questioned the capacity of his team — or the SGC — to bring their people home? She wondered if he was still on Edora, because this wasn’t him, this wasn’t him at all.
Maybe he could see what she was feeling, because an expression flickered across his face that she couldn’t reconcile with the officer she knew. It looked like self-doubt or indecision. “Carter,” he sighed, “this whole situation sucks.”
“Yes sir.”
“Not just —” He broke off and shook his head. “We really need to get home.”
“We will, sir,” she said, surprised by his vehemence. “General Hammond won’t give up on us. We don’t leave our people behind, remember?”
“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t look any happier. “I remember.”
“Do you?” She didn’t meant to sound pointed, but it had apparently only taken him three months on Edora to give up on them.
He skewered her with a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean, Major?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Nothing?”
“No sir.” She looked away, squinting out toward the horizon — a slight hint of gray was emerging through the murk of mist. “You should get some rest, Colonel.”
He was silent, but she could feel his eyes drilling into her and she braced herself for a reprimand. But he said nothing and after a while moved past her toward the tent. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
A couple of steps behind her, the colonel stopped. “Carter?”
She turned. “Sir?”
He looked at her as if he might be about to say something reassuring, something more like the old Colonel O’Neill. But in the end he just said, “When it’s light, make coffee. We all need something warm in our bellies.”
“Yes sir.”
With another nod he turned back to the tent and she turned back to studying the horizon. Soon she heard the tent unzip and zip up again, and she was alone with her thoughts on this cold, bleak planet.
She hoped the sun rose quickly here; she was yearning for a little warmth.
The ritual of kel’no’reem was beneficial on many levels. Rest and restoration of the body was but one advantage. A more profound gain, if practiced with discipline, was a heightened level of self-perception that allowed a great deal of insight into one’s own motivations. A Jaffa so trained could not be surprised by his response to any situation, and the self-command thus gained was of incalculable value, not only in battle but in many other walks of life.
Teal’c had long observed that there were many among the Tau’ri who would benefit from the meditative discipline of kel’no’reem — O’Neill first among them. He had suggested this once, but his attempt at tutoring O’Neill in the art had proven… challenging. And, ultimately, futile.
Rising out of the deepest levels of meditation, Teal’c was slowly allowing consciousness to return when O’Neill crawled into the tent, bristling with tension. Teal’c, in his heightened state of awareness, could feel it as surely as the static charge of an open wormhole.
It was a pity that O’Neill had proven so resistant to the calming art of kel’no’reem, for this aura of unease had surrounded him almost from the moment Teal’c had first seized his hand through the rocky surface of Edora, and had only grown more intense since their return to Earth. Its cause, Teal’c could not guess, but its effect was evident.
O’Neill doubted himself, and increasingly, Major Carter and Daniel Jackson doubted him. It was a dangerous position for a commander and Teal’c was surprised that O’Neill, whose ability as a warrior he valued second only to Master Bra’tac, would allow such a situation to develop, let alone endure.
He was minded to challenge him about his behavior, but was hesitant to do so until they had returned to Earth. It would do no good to provoke a confrontation here, where all their lives depended upon cohesion.
At his side, Daniel Jackson stirred, feverish. His condition was a matter of great concern and it was his care that must be their first priority.
“Jack… ?”
“Hey.”
“Are you touching my head?”
There was a moment’s silence. “I’m checking your temperature.”
“I’ve got a fever.”
“I know. Go to sleep.”
“Yeah…” He hissed a little as he moved. “Turns out that’s not so easy with a hole in your side.”
O’Neill shuffled about, getting into the sleeping bag and settling down to rest. “I can’t give you morphine yet,” he said. “You have to stay with us a little longer. We might need to move again soon.”
“I know.”
There was another silence. Teal’c opened his eyes and, through the thin walls of the tent, he began to see a faint light that promised dawn.
After a while, Daniel Jackson spoke again, his voice containing that slight teasing edge it often did when talking to O’Neill. “You know, Sam was stroking my hair earlier, to help me get to sleep…”
But O’Neill did not rise to the bait as once he might. He simply said, “Good for her. Now go to sleep.”
A longer time passed, the walls of the tent slowly becoming visible, gray shadows among gray shadows. Teal’c let his eyes close again, hoarding his energy against the day to come.
“Jack?”
O’Neill sighed. “What?”
“You’re being pretty hard on her, you know.”
“Daniel —”
“I’m just saying — you’re being hard on Sam.”
O’Neill did not answer immediately, but Teal’c could sense the way he lay tense and unmoving. “Carter’s an Air Force major, Daniel. She can take it.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why —”
“Daniel, stop.”
Another silence, this one brittle. “I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong,” O’Neill snapped, “is that you’re hurt, we’re stuck in the backend of nowhere with no way to get home, and I need to — We really need to get back. That’s what’s wrong.”
“We both know there’s something else,” Daniel Jackson said, sounding weary and defeated. “But if you don’t want to talk about —”
“What I want,” O’Neill said, “is half an hour’s sleep. So just shut the hell up, will you?”
Daniel Jackson said no more, but Teal’c could hear him moving and shifting in pain. Teal’c did not think all his discomfort was caused by the injury he carried.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The pristine gardens and immaculate walkways that surrounded the Curia building on Tollana did nothing to settle General Hammond’s spirits as he and Dr. Fraiser were led from the Stargate to their summit with the High Council and the Asgard. He knew that the news he brought would not be welcome, but he saw no other way to deal with the situation other than being completely forthright. Deceit was what had gotten them into this situation, and where he came from a man was judged by his honor and his sincerity. His father had always said that a man who couldn’t bear to hear the truth wasn’t a man worth trusting. It didn’t make the task ahead any more appealing, however. He gripped the handle of his briefcase, hoping that his alternative tactic would not be in vain.
He could sense that Janet was just as uneasy as him, but she said nothing as they were led to a large, comfortably furnished lounge area and advised that they would be summoned when the summit was due to begin. As the door closed behind the young Tollan representative, Janet let out a breath and sat down on one of the low couches.
“Thank you for agreeing to accompany me, Dr. Fraiser,” said Hammond. “I know this isn’t the best of off-world excursions.”
Janet shook her head. “I’m glad you felt you could trust me enough to brief me on what’s been happening, General. I just find it hard to be
lieve that we’re in this situation. That some of our own people could be responsible for this. Maybe I’m just being naïve.”
Hammond sat down across from her. “In my experience, there tend to be objectionable elements at all levels of the government and military, no matter how hard we try and weed them out. I suppose I feel more than a little responsible that it happened on my watch.”
“You’re not at fault, sir. I think we all prefer to think the best of our colleagues. And personally, I can’t say I’ve been suspicious of anyone at the SGC. Either the Tollan and Asgard are wrong… or the rogue personnel are very good at their job of blending in.”
“Exactly how good is what Colonel O’Neill was supposed to find out. But now…” Hammond trailed off. But now… but what now? He had nothing else to offer on that point and, by his watch, it was a question he would have to answer in a little over ten minutes.
“You’re not so sure?”
He was about to say no, he wasn’t sure, that it was ridiculous that their allies were resting the fate of the whole planet on their trust of just one man — even if that man were Jack O’Neill. But this was neither the time nor the place. It was down to him and Dr. Fraiser to represent Earth and they had to demonstrate that they were in support of this operation if they were to salvage anything from the alliance with the Tollan and Asgard. His concerns could wait.
The door opened and their Tollan guide stepped through. The young man couldn’t have been more than twenty. “General Hammond, Dr. Fraiser, you may follow me now. The Curia is about to commence.”
“Some hospitality,” muttered Janet, as they were led from the room. “Do they use interns to greet all their interplanetary allies?”
Hammond couldn’t help but agree with her. This whole exercise felt as cold and clinical as the gleaming white corridor down which they were led to the Curia chamber. The atmosphere within the room did nothing to alleviate his anxiety.
As a newly promoted Brigadier General during the age of Perestroika and Glasnost, he’d sat in on many diplomatic meetings between US and Soviet ambassadors and military representatives. On the surface, the purpose of those meetings had been to end the mistrust and menace engendered by the Cold War, to strengthen new relationships and put aside grievances. But always, always, beneath the veneer of diplomacy lurked the ugly suspicion of old battles: handshakes above the table and loaded guns below. It was that same suspicion that permeated the Curia.
“General Hammond, Dr. Fraiser,” said High Chancellor Travell, not rising from her seat on the dais. “Thank you for agreeing to our request for a meeting.”
Resisting the urge to point out that it was less of a request and more of a summons, Hammond said, “It’s my pleasure, High Chancellor. I just hope that we can move forward in resolving the issues at hand.”
“That too is our hope, General Hammond,” said another voice. “Please know that we are most glad to see you here.”
Hammond turned to find Thor also seated behind the dais, flanked by two other Asgard representatives. For the first time since he arrived on Tollana, Hammond felt a modicum of relief. He’d worried about who the Asgard might send as their representative, but the presence of Thor, whom he considered a true friend of the SGC and of Earth, bolstered his hope that the meeting would not end in disaster after all.
He and Fraiser took their seats and the proceedings began.
“We are disappointed that Colonel O’Neill is not here with you, General. We had hoped to speak with him before the summit. I hope he is still committed to the investigation?” asked Travell.
“We have encountered a setback in that respect, High Chancellor. It’s my unfortunate task to inform you that Colonel O’Neill, along with SG-1, have been missing in action for two days. We have launched a full search and rescue but, as I’m sure you understand, this is no small task. Our enemies are many.”
There was silence. The Tollan officials exchanged looks that made Hammond’s blood boil and beside him Fraiser shifted in her seat. He glanced over at Thor, who said, “I am truly sorry to hear such news, General Hammond. Colonel O’Neill and his team are nothing if not resourceful. I am confident they will find a way back to Earth.”
“We are also most concerned to hear the news of SG-1’s disappearance, General,” said Travell. “We hope your search for them proves fruitful.”
“Thank you, High Chancellor,” replied Hammond, although he doubted their sympathies were entirely unselfish.
“Can we take it that your investigation into your people is on hold while this search continues?”
“It seems we have little choice in that regard,” said Hammond, trying to ignore the way she’d said ‘your people’, as if all of humanity had been judged by the Tollan and found wanting. “Both yourselves and the Asgard have stipulated that no one other than Colonel O’Neill may conduct the investigation,” he continued. “But, under the circumstances, I would like to request that you reconsider that condition.” He withdrew a pale blue manila folder from his briefcase; a card to be played which he hoped would at least prolong the game. He looked around the Curia, towards Thor, his best hope of gaining the agreement of the room. “There are several people under my command whom I’d like to offer for consideration–”
“Our judgment on that matter has not changed, General. No one but O’Neill will be acceptable to carry out the mission.” This came from one of the other Tollan officials, a man whose face was not familiar to Hammond. The arrogant disdain which he conveyed in just a few words, however, was entirely recognizable.
“My government is just as eager to find these criminals as you are,” he said. “But with this restriction, you’re making it very difficult.”
“Might I remind you how much is at stake for our planets, General Hammond?” said the nameless Tollan, leaning forward in his seat, his voice rising. “For many generations we took great steps to ensure that our technology was protected, yet within a short time of treating with Earth we find ourselves in the position of having that which we have defended, often at the cost of our lives, stolen from beneath our noses. And you dare to tell us that we are making this difficult?”
High Chancellor Travell turned to her fellow official and made a gesture, just a slight movement of her hand, but enough to calm him. “I’m sure General Hammond is fully aware of what is at stake, Chancellor Morrel. Let us remember that this is not a Triad and accusations have no place here.”
Hammond closed his eyes and took his own calming breath. In truth, this was becoming more like a trial by the second, except that he and Dr. Fraiser were sorely underrepresented. “I can assure you, Chancellor, that Earth comprehends the stakes entirely. If, as a result of these thefts, we are excluded from the Protected Planets Treaty…” At this he looked meaningfully at the Asgard, who remained silent. “Then we have much more to lose than a few gadgets.”
The Tollan stiffened, offended by his flippant tone.
He spread his hands in apology. “All I’m asking is that you allow someone else to investigate this crime,” he said. “Hell, I’ll do it myself if you’ll let me.”
But Morrel only shook his head. “Our word on the matter is final,” said the Chancellor, eyebrows raised to forestall further challenge.
Hammond tensed his jaw. “Then we have a problem.”
“Yes, General. We do.”
And that’s when he knew he was beaten, because those words came from the Asgard to Thor’s right — and Thor said nothing to contradict him.
Just like that his trump card was tossed on the floor, rendered useless.
Janet could feel her hackles rising the moment she entered the Curia chamber. As honored and flattered as she was to know that General Hammond considered her worthy of his trust and of handling this mission, she was a doctor, not a diplomat. Her game face extended as far as her bedside manner, and even then she knew that sometimes you had to be just a little bit ruthless to make sure the patient took his medicine. The Tollan had always struck her as a p
eople who didn’t like being told when they needed their medicine.
The general was much better at this than her — all part of the job description, she supposed — so she’d been content to offer silent moral support and let him do the talking. She suspected that anything she had to say on the subject might end up causing an interplanetary incident.
Nevertheless, even General Hammond now seemed on the brink of losing his cool.
He jabbed a finger at the folder in front of him, pressing it down right in the middle of the SGC logo. “The people named in this file, I trust them implicitly. I would trust them with the lives of every member of Stargate Command. Hell, I would trust them with the lives of my family. If you can’t take my word on that, then I don’t see where we can go from here.”
“Your word is not the issue, General Hammond,” said the Asgard seated next to Thor. Even his serene voice had started to grate on Janet’s nerves, though she knew they were their best hope of salvaging anything from this summit. “But you must understand that our prime goal as a race is our genetic survival.”
Suddenly, Janet found she couldn’t remain silent. “Isn’t that the goal of every race? We all want to survive.”
Thor turned towards her, but his shiny black gaze gave away nothing. If he disapproved of her interruption, he gave no outward sign. “Forgive me, Dr. Fraiser, but I believe Tyr is correct. My own observations of humanity indicate that you do not fully consider the future of your species. Often, you have demonstrated that other principles take precedence over survival. Principles such as friendship, or the love one human feels for another. On Earth, these can often be given value above life itself. And, just as often, the selfish needs of the few take precedence over the good of all.”
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