![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Necessary Sacrifices 4/6
Fandom: SG1
Characters: All of them
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 53,110
Warnings/Spoilers: Mentions of episodes through the 4th Season
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Summary/Notes: Col. Jack O'Neill blacks out the base and then promptly disappears. What is Jack planning and what is he willing to sacrifice in order to accomplish that plan? Can the team find Jack before it's too late? What if it's already too late?
Necessary Sacrifices: Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4
Daniel watched Jacob and Anise emerge from the Stargate and exchange greetings with General Hammond. Daniel, along with the other members of SG-1, had wanted to be in the gate room to meet them, but the general had confined them to the briefing room. It was an effort, Daniel knew, to keep their ugly mood from infecting the entire base. They had spent the night and most of the morning at Jack's house, then raced back to the SGC as soon as the general had told them Anise was on her way. That was more than three hours ago. As each minute had passed with no indication of the Tok'ra's arrival, the team had become more and more irritable until they couldn't even talk to each other.
Daniel gave a last disgruntled look at the gate as it closed and, once sure that General Hammond, Jacob and Anise were on their way up, began his now-familiar path around the room. Teal'c spared him one raised eyebrow and then went back to contemplating his fingers that were once again steepled in front of him. Daniel envied Teal'c's outward calm but he could tell from the Jaffa's tightly clamped jaw that he, too, felt the pressure. Sam had given up waiting after the first fifteen minutes and commandeered the only computer in the room to continue her investigation into what, exactly, Jack had been doing when he had blacked out the SGC. Daniel thought that it was an exercise in futility but after several churlish exchanges, he'd stopped pointing that out to her. Unable to sit, he'd taken up pacing again. To occupy his mind, he counted the number of laps he'd completed since they'd returned to the SGC.
He'd just finished lap number one hundred thirty-four when General Hammond appeared at the top of the stairs; Jacob and Anise followed. The general nodded for them to have a seat around the table, and they did so in silence. General Hammond and Jacob also sat at the table while Anise walked to the front of the room. From the way that she glanced at them, Daniel suspected she was aware of the unwelcome reception that she had walked into.
"You are aware of situation with Nirrti's lab and the contagion that we discovered there." When the statement was met with silence, Anise continued. "As you suspect, we approached Colonel O'Neill to help the Tok'ra eliminate this threat to all of us."
"Colonel O'Neill is under my command," General Hammond said. "You have no authority to ask any of my people to do anything without first speaking to me."
"We. . ." Anise shot a look at Jacob before she continued, "I felt that the fewer people that were involved in the decision, the better our chances for success.
"There is also the fact that this is a Tok'ra issue. We discovered and investigated this problem. Our operatives risked and lost their lives in order to gather the information. We came up with the vaccine and the plan to destroy the contagion."
"This is about credit?" Daniel asked, exasperated. "It must really bug you that you need a lowly Tau'ri to actually carry out your plan."
"We lost several Tok'ra before it was discovered we were unable to tolerate the vaccine. Many were willing to sacrifice themselves to stop this. The loss of even one Tok'ra lessens us in a way that you cannot comprehend."
"Whereas Jack is expendable?" Daniel didn't try to rein in his anger. "It doesn't matter if he dies?"
"Enough." Jacob cut off any reply the angry Anise might have had. "This is not helping anyone -- especially Jack."
Daniel took a couple deep breaths and realized he was standing. He sat down shakily and muttered an apology to Jacob.
Anise started to say something, but Jacob's raised hand stopped her. He nodded his head and when he spoke it was Selmak who addressed them. "It wasn't about credit, Dr. Jackson. It was about secrecy. When the subject was discussed by the Tok'ra High Council, some were concerned that, if we fully involved the Tau'ri, you would demand complete access to the information that we have. There was the possibility that you would want to study the contagion yourself."
"Yes," Sam said. "If this virus is half as deadly as you purport it to be, we should investigate it and devise a more effective vaccine."
"I told the High Council you would feel that way," Anise said.
"Would it not be in everyone's best interest to develop such a vaccine?" Teal'c asked.
When Anise didn't answer, Jacob did. "The vaccine is a deadly poison to a symbiote when injected into a host's body. Some of the council was concerned that that information could be used against us if it fell into the wrong hands."
"There are those that still feel that way," Anise said. "The compromise was to limit full disclosure only to those who need to be informed."
Daniel scoffed.
Anise looked across at him. "Colonel O'Neill understood the necessity."
"He would wouldn't he?" Jack O'Neill never told anyone, anything. "The man thrives on secrets and black ops. You had to know that Jack's reasons for not telling anyone were entirely different than yours."
"Motives are immaterial as long as the goals are the same. In this case: secrecy."
"If it worries you so much, why tell us now?" Sam asked.
"The general has made it clear that not being forthcoming about this mission will adversely affect the Tok'ra-Tau'ri relationship."
"You're damn right it will," Hammond said. "Our relationship is based on trust and if you cannot trust us, there will be no relationship."
"Do you trust us with all your weaknesses, General?"
"Can we focus on what happened to Jack, please?" Daniel cut in. "You came here and offered Jack the opportunity to play the hero, which he jumped at. Let's just skip to the 'where he is now' part."
"Vertas, the Tok'ra in orbit around the planet, has just contacted me. He reported that Colonel O'Neill spoke with him a short time ago and stated that the mission was completed successfully. The pyramids and the contagion were destroyed."
"And the colonel?" Sam asked. "How was he?"
"Vertas did not detail Colonel O'Neill's condition; he merely reported the success of the mission."
"You have a recording of the communication between Colonel O'Neill and your operative?" General Hammond asked.
"Yes."
"We will need to see it."
Anise's eyes narrowed at the demand. "I assure you that I have told you all the pertinent information."
"I'm sure you have. We will still need to see the communication."
Anise reached into the bag hung at her side and pulled out a small oval device that she set on the conference table. "When Colonel O'Neill spoke to Vertas he instructed that this message be shown to you when you asked to see his transmission from the planet."
"A message from Jack?" Daniel asked. "Just when were you going to tell us about it?"
"When you asked to see his communication from the planet, as the colonel requested." Anise pushed a button on the device and a hologram of Jack appeared over it.
"Yeah. I hope I've got this thing turned on right." Jack's voice echoed through the room, disproportionately loud when compared to the small image it resonated from. "Anyhow, by now I'm sure you've figured everything out. I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing this by my own choice. Anise said that we have very little time to deal with this and I am the logical choice for this type of mission." The holographic Jack shook his head. "Yeah, I know. I can't believe I'm saying it either, but she's right. This is a one way trip and the fewer people going on it the better."
The holographic figure held up his hand as if he could hear the protests that Daniel and Sam had started to voice. "Just be quiet, you two. It would have shaken out like this anyhow. Neither Sam nor Teal'c could've been part of the operation and, face it, Daniel, you're not SF. I can handle this myself. There was no need to lose anyone unnecessarily on this mission. Besides, I probably would've been stuck with a bunch of marines who don't like to fish." He shuddered. "Can you imagine that?"
The familiar figure of Jack, dressed in black and fully armed, glanced around and peered at something behind him before he looked back at the recorder. "Ok, we're almost there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine and doing this with a sound mind and all. As sound as it ever was, I suppose." He gave a patented O'Neill self-effacing grin. "General, a full account of my contact with Anise, my preparations and my reasons for accepting the mission is in a report that should be in base mail. I put in a resignation letter, just in case that will make things easier for you. I'm sorry for the problems I caused. I meant no disrespect to you, sir.
"I also wanted to tell my team one more thing. . ."
Jack faded off and leaned conspiratorially forward, and Daniel found himself doing the same thing.
"Listening, kids?" Jack asked. "Good. Now, stay the hell away from here!"
Jack's commanding voice snapped Daniel back in his chair. It had a similar effect on the other members of the SG-1, and General Hammond frowned at the holograph as Jack went on.
"Don't send me any care packages, don't send a MALP through, don't drop mailbags from orbiting ships, because I'm not gonna answer. Got that? The last thing I need is you hovering around me, ruining my peace and quiet." Jack stopped and ran his hand through his hair. "That about covers it." He looked around, then snapped to attention and saluted. "It's been an honor and a privilege to serve with all of you." He reached forward and the image faded before them.
The room was silent for a moment as they tried to come to terms with what Jack had said. Daniel couldn't believe Jack's last message was one that ordered them all to stay away. After four years of working together, Jack had chosen to end their friendship with the Tok'ra equivalent of a message on an answering machine. It felt so. . . unfinished, so unfair. And so typically Jack. Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over at his teammates. He could see that the message had affected them in the same way.
General Hammond found his voice first. "You have the communication between Colonel O'Neill and the orbiting Tok'ra ship?"
"We have a record of that communication, yes," Anise said.
"I want to see that, now."
"Colonel O'Neill requested that this be the only message we show you." Anise gestured to the device in the middle of the table.
"I'm requesting to see the other message. Will that be a problem?"
"No," Anise said. "I was just trying to honor Colonel O'Neill's wishes on the matter."
Daniel gave a small snort. "Anise wanting to honor Jack's orders," he spoke quietly to Sam but didn't care that his voice carried to the others around the table. "That's a new one."
Anise's eyes snapped to him for a moment, but the general spoke before she could.
"Please show us the communication."
Anise stared at him a moment before she nodded. "As you wish." She placed another communicator on the table and pushed the button.
The holographic Jack that appeared above the table this time hardly resembled the man they had watched moments before. This Jack crouched close to the recorder, an image of a dismantled and scarred DHD stood behind him. His face was battered and bruised, with several deep, inflamed gashes clearly visible. Dark stains covered large portions of his uniform and bloody wounds could be seen beneath several rips. Daniel could see the telltale scorch marks from a staff weapon blast low on Jack's left side. If Jack's favoring of his right knee wouldn't have given away that injury, the bandage wrapped tightly around it would have. Sam gave a small gasp at the sight of Jack, and the general swore under his breath.
Daniel didn't pay attention to the conversation Jack had with the Tok'ra, instead he focused on the way Jack moved and spoke. He seemed perpetually out of breath and took small, shallow gasps of air between words. His eyes were bright and feverish, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. Daniel watched as a drop of it fell from Jack's chin; a perfect holographic teardrop of blood that disappeared from the camera's view before it hit the ground. He watched a second drop form when the words Jack said cut through his fixation.
"Ain't gonna happen," Jack's voice was sharp, but he swayed as he spoke. "I did my bit. Now you're gonna let me be. That's the new plan."
"There is valuable data--"
Daniel could clearly hear the annoyance in Vertas' voice as it rang through the room but before the Tok'ra had finished his sentence Jack had pulled himself to his feet. It wasn't until Jack pointed it at them that Daniel realized that he held a staff weapon. Light danced around the opening, there was a brilliant blast of light and the hologram disintegrated.
It took Daniel a moment to pull his eyes away from the spot where Jack had been. From the silence around the table, he wasn't the only one so affected.
"General, with all due respect--"
General Hammond held up his hand to silence Sam and looked over at Anise. "We will need the gate address for this world."
"Absolutely not."
"I'm afraid I must insist," Hammond said, his voice calm and authoritative.
Anise stared at Hammond. Daniel thought that her attempt to look formidable would work better if she didn't wear such ridiculously sex-kittenish clothes. Hammond didn't blink and Anise broke eye contact first.
"Sending any form of device to this planet is an unacceptable risk, General Hammond," Anise said. "A risk that even Colonel O'Neill has wisely ordered against."
"Even if Colonel O'Neill had acted under the authority of the US Air Force, I am his commanding officer and he cannot order me to do anything."
Daniel flicked his pen in his fingers as he waited for Anise to answer. He wondered how far the general would go to get the address, wondered how much Anise would lose to keep it a secret.
After a moment of silence, General Hammond rose from his seat. "You will not be allowed to leave the base until you have supplied us with the address."
Daniel smiled grimly. Go General! Hammond was good at playing hardball.
Anise glared first at the general and then at Jacob. "This reckless behavior is exactly why we should not have told the SGC about this."
"You lost that option," Hammond said, "when you chose Colonel O'Neill to do the mission."
"At the very least, we will need the address in order to lock it out of our dialing program," Sam said. "It wouldn't do to have us accidentally going to this planet."
An idea struck Daniel. "Besides we can help you."
Anise narrowed her eyes at him. "In what manner?"
"Jack destroyed your communicator and your way to monitor the planet. You give us the gate address and we send a MALP through with any scientific equipment you need.
"We can place another monitor on the planet without your help."
"No. You can't." Sam cut in. "You can't ring anything down because you risk bringing the virus back up with the ring transfer."
"That right," Daniel agreed. "The gate is the only safe way to get more equipment there, but you can't use it because Jack will watch for it and he will just blast anything you send through." For once Daniel was pleased with Jack's trigger-happy reputation. "Jack says he doesn't want to talk to us, but I doubt he'll destroy a MALP before he hears what we have to say."
"I could have a MALP ready to go in thirty minutes," Sam said. She glanced over at Hammond. "What do you think, sir?"
"It sounds like a workable compromise. Anise?"
When Anise didn't say anything, Selmak spoke. "It will allow you to continue you research into the toxin, Anise. We accepted the possibility we would have to share this information with the Tau'ri."
"Very well," Anise said. "I will have to return to my lab to retrieve the equipment I need."
"That sounds fair," General Hammond agreed. "However, we will require the address before you leave."
Daniel thought Anise would refuse, but she nodded. "On the condition that you do not send anything to the planet until I return."
"Fine," General Hammond said. "Just don't take too long. I want to speak to Colonel O'Neill as soon as possible." The general nodded to the two SFs that Daniel hadn't noticed standing at the top of the stairs. "These gentlemen will escort you to the operations room where you can give Sergeant Harriman the address. Once he has that, he will dial you out of here."
Anise looked as if she had swallowed something distasteful, but she didn't say anything as she followed the SFs down the stairs.
"With you're permission, General, I will prep the MALP," Sam said. She barely waited for his approval before she headed downstairs.
Jacob looked over at Hammond. "You play a dangerous game, George."
"I didn't start this, Jacob. You have no right to use my personnel without SGC approval." Hammond stood and crossed to his office.
Daniel turned to Jacob. "You think the general is handling this wrong?"
"I think this whole situation was handled wrong." Jacob sighed. "Sometimes I think the biggest problem we face isn't the Goa'uld but our own stubborn pride."
"Maybe," Daniel agreed. He reached across the table and pressed the button on the second communicator. Jack's battered form flickered to life above the table once more. "Then again," Daniel said, "that stubbornness may be the only thing that saves us."
***
Jack watched the stars drift across the night sky. There was a gradual lightening of the darkness and the stars winked out. Every muscle in his body ached. It took all his energy to breathe and then all he could manage were small mouths full of air that left tiny puffs of mist in the cold of predawn. He just wanted to lie there and wait for the sun, but a lonely fear ate at the back of his mind. Right now, this world was a deathtrap for anyone who came through the gate.
After two tries, he managed to sit up and pain stole what little breath he had. When he tried to stand, the agony spiked. He collapsed, retching. His head swam, and black dots appeared in front of his eyes. By the time he could focus again, the world was lighter and the sun had appeared over the distant mountains. With a breathless curse, he scanned the jumble of equipment that surrounded him for the med kit. He crawled over to it, pulled out another syringe of morphine and injected it. The drug hit and he closed his eyes against the rapid spin of the world. He laid back and waited for the drug to take full effect.
A heavy tiredness crept over him and a strange buzz filled his head. Sleep. He just needed a little sleep. What harm would there be in a short nap? Despite the rising sun, the surrounding world darkened and encouraged him to rest. Jack savored the peaceful feeling that drifted up his arms and legs, a comforting lullaby of numbness. The darkness deepened and Jack didn't want to fight any more.
Breathe, Colonel!
The sound of Doctor Fraiser's voice jerked him awake, and he gasped for breath. His eyes refused to open; his head throbbed. Was he in the infirmary? The bed was cold and hard. He must have broken a rib. His chest was bound too tightly. What was he was supposed to do? Thoughts were elusive and the memory didn't come. He was so tired. The darkness called to him.
You need to breathe!
His body followed the order, but it felt as if he breathed through a pillow. He lifted a leaden arm and attempted to push it away. His hand fell on his uncovered face. His heart pounded and his head swam. What was wrong? Why couldn't he get any air? Panic stabbed through him.
Breathe!
None of it made any sense, but he did as she commanded.
Again.
He focused on breathing. In. Two, three. Out. Two, three. In. Two, three. Out. The oppressive darkness lessened and awareness slid into his consciousness. Janet wasn't here. This wasn't even Earth.
It's the morphine, Colonel. Janet's voice faded in and out, a mere memory. She had told him something once, something about morphine and breathing. He forced his eyes open and continued to count his breaths. In. Out. In. Out. When he stopped thinking about it, the air didn't come.
The sun was high in the sky before his breaths would come without conscious effort and even then, he couldn't take a deep breath. His side spit fire when he moved and the ache of his other injuries had returned. Unable to climb to his feet, he rolled to the steps that led down from the gate and slid off the edge of the platform, somewhat surprised when his legs held. By the time he hobbled across the long grass to the MALP, his head swam from lack of oxygen. The air felt damp and a heavy, sweet fragrance drifted from clumps of deep violet flowers that dotted the field. The thick scent tickled his nose and he tasted it with each breath. When he reached the MALP, he leaned against it and stared at his hands through cloudy eyes. There was a blue tinge to his nails and small, weak tremors shook them.
Collapsed lung. It was the only explanation. He tried to remember when it could have happened but there had been so many blows, so many injuries. If he'd broken the ribs and they'd punctured the lung, he'd fill with blood and that would be about it. Even if the medical equipment necessary was on the MALP, he couldn't set up a chest tube. The fact that he wasn't coughing up blood gave him hope that wasn't the case. He just might be able to fix this on his own.
The large medical box was clearly marked with a large red cross and he flipped it open to stare at the alien looking instruments in it. Now what? Draw the air off with a syringe, he guessed. Then seal that hole and pray that the lung inflated. He hunted through the box and settled on a large syringe with a thick, evil-looking needle attached. It looked like something the doc would use. Another search through the box netted him a bottle of liquid bandage. It wasn't what the doc would use but it would seal the hole. He stared at the box and wondered if had missed some high-tech miracle tool.
Unable to think of an alternative, Jack pulled out some disinfectant wipes, closed the medical case and sank onto the soft grass. The clasps on the flak vest refused to release and he had to cut it off with his field knife. He saw that the side of the vest had been melted by the near miss of the Jaffa blast. There were numerous gouges in the protective material, which included a deep indentation over the left shoulder but he didn't remember getting hit. His shirt was even more difficult to remove. It was caked with dust and blood; when he pulled at it, it reopened the wounds that it had dried to. Raw cuts covered his chest and arms and deep, mottled bruises colored his skin. He didn't want to think how much it would hurt when the morphine wore off.
The sun felt good against his skin and he stretched out away from the shadows of the MALP. His stiff muscles screamed in protest when he rolled onto his good side. He ripped open a wipe and swabbed clean a patch of skin over his ribs. The effort required made him pant and his head rang again, but he focused on his task. The filthy wipe tossed aside, he pulled the syringe out of its sealed bag. The needle gleamed and he bit back the bile that rose in his throat.
It was easy to find the space between two ribs, and he placed the tip of the needle against his skin. It was an awkward position to be in and his abused body refused to bend the way he needed. He counted to three, and then counted to three again. Finally, he jammed the needle into his side.
"Oh, God." He didn't think he could hurt any more, but he was wrong. The bite of the needle caused his side muscles to cramp and he almost jerked the syringe free in the spasm. The needle scraped against a rib, and a strange, grating sensation traveled through his bones. The panic subsided and he opened his eyes.
A thin trickle of fresh red blood cut through the crusted dirt on his chest but he ignored it. How far in should the needle should go? If he hit the lung it would bleed -- or bleed more, as the case may be. Gritting his teeth, he drew the needle out until he could feel the tip of it bump against the rib. His arms ached from the position he forced them into, and his side muscles continued to twitch.
He gripped the needle tightly with his left hand and tugged the stopper up with his right. It slid easily up the barrel of the syringe, drawing nothing but air. When he had pulled it to the top, Jack paused. Now what? Why am I always unconscious when the doc does this? The tightness around his chest eased but it was still impossible to take a deep breath. After a second's hesitation, he pulled the stopper up just a little more, just to be sure to draw out as much air as possible. Instead, he yanked it completely out of the syringe. Panicked, he jerked the needle out of his side. He fumbled with the liquid bandage bottle and managed to spread some of it over the area where he had inserted the needle.
His side muscles cramped again, and he struggled to straighten his side to stretch the stitch away. When he inhaled sharply against the pain, he took his first good breath in hours. Relief at being able to breathe pushed all discomfort from his mind. He took another, even better, breath and laughed. The laugh changed to a cough, but it was good to cough. The last time this had happened to him, Janet had made him lay on his side for hours and threatened that if he didn’t keep coughing, she'd put in a chest tube.
He lay in the sweet-smelling grass and coughed into the stillness, elated that each breath came easier than the last. The blueness of his skin diminished and the cobwebs in his mind drifted away. The suns soothed his tired muscles as he breathed. He wondered what Janet would say about his field medicine technique and didn't know if he should be glad he'd never find out.
***
"Chevron Seven, locked." Sergeant Harriman's voice rang through the control room. The gate sprang to life and then settled down into its familiar blue.
General Hammond frowned down at the people crowded around the MALP in the embarkation room. None of them looked up when the gate opened. "Is there a problem, Airmen?" he asked.
Samantha Carter and Doctor Janet Fraiser, the two closest to the MALP looked up. "No, sir," Sam answered. "We just wanted to double-check that the equipment Dr. Fraiser added won't interfere with the camera."
"We had to make some minor adjustments, sir." Janet waved her hand at the equipment. "If the computers can read the signals off the MALP, we're set."
Hammond looked over at the Lt. Graham Simmons, who monitored the equipment. "Yes, sir. Signal is five by and we are recording."
"We're all set, Doctor."
"And the Tok'ra's equipment?" Sam asked.
Anise, who stood at the back of the control room, studied a small handheld computer before she nodded. "It appears to be working."
"Very well." Hammond announced over the mike. "Let's do this."
Sam and Janet left the gate room and ran up into the control room. Janet stood behind Simmons, to watch the information as it came in from her equipment. Sam stopped next to Daniel and Teal'c; and Jacob left Anise's side to stand by them. Hammond nodded at them and then spoke over the mike. "We have a go."
In tense silence, they watched the MALP crawl up the ramp and push through the event horizon. Hammond's eyes already watched the video feed for the picture the MALP would send. The first image was of the DHD, or rather, pieces of the DHD that lay scattered around the clearing.
"That's weird," Daniel said. "It didn't look like that in Jack's communication with Vertas."
"No, it didn't," Sam agreed. "Are we broadcasting to the colonel?"
Walter nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. No response yet."
"If Jack doesn't want to be found, he may just ignore us."
Walter shook his head. "I'm not receiving any signs of Earth technology on the sweep. It will pick up any readings for two miles, even passive use readings."
"Get a visual of the complete area," Hammond ordered. It was possible Jack had moved further than that away but Hammond didn't think so. Jack may not want contact with them, but the gate was a danger and he wouldn't be far from it. "He may have left some indication of what happened."
Walter moved the camera in a slow sweep. It was full daylight and the signs of Jack's activities were visible. The air had a reddish tinge to it and a fine crimson dust covered everything. Even the leaves on the trees looked bloody.
Hammond saw it a second before the others did: a slight movement in the brush off to the side. "Stop. Go back." The picture edged back. "There." He peered at the screen and fully expected Jack to come out of the woods to demand that they remove the MALP at once.
Instead, a young woman dressed in tattered clothes peeked out from between the leaves. She was gone so quick that Hammond almost thought he'd imagined it.
"Did you see that?" Daniel asked.
"Indeed," Teal'c said. "It appeared to be a woman."
Daniel looked over at Anise. "I thought you said this virus would kill all the people on the planet."
Anise ignored him as she studied the information on the handheld device that was connected to her monitoring equipment.
Jacob spoke. "It would, unless they'd received the vaccine. There were reports of experimentation going on."
Hammond frowned. "If there are refugees, Jack may not be alone on the planet, after all." If people needed help, Jack would be close by.
"I don't know, George. It's possible."
"That still doesn't explain why he doesn't answer us," Sam said. "Or why we can't pick up any of his power use."
"General?" Walter's voice drew Hammond's attention back to the technician. Walter pointed at the screen. The camera had stopped. It showed a group of people gathered to one side. They regarded the MALP suspiciously and pointed staff weapons at it. Several of the armed men stood guard over two captured Jaffa who lay bound in front of them.
"That can't be right," Sam said. "You said that the vaccine would kill the Jaffa."
"It does," Jacob moved closer to the display. "It would kill the symbiote almost immediately. Those Jaffa should be long dead, either from the vaccine or the virus." He looked over at the other Tok'ra. "Anise?"
"This can't be right." Anise tapped at her screen a couple of times before she looked up.
"Someone needs to explain what's happening here," Daniel demanded
"There is no indication of the active contagion in any of the readings."
"That's great!" Sam said. "That means that Jack was able to destroy it without releasing any into the air."
"No," Anise said. "There is no sign of the active contagion, there are, however, indications of the its basic components as well as its inert form."
"What does that mean?" Daniel asked the question before Hammond could.
"It appears that the contagion had been released but that it was rendered inert or broken down into harmless components."
"She's right," Janet confirmed. "None of my readings find any of the active virus, either."
"How is that possible?" Hammond asked.
"I am not sure." Anise scrolled through the information before her. "I will have to do further study."
"There are several possibilities, sir." Janet spoke from her position behind Simmons, her eyes on the data. "From what I see here, it appears that there was something in the air that bonded with the contagion, and rendered it harmless or broke it down in to its basic, non-toxic elements."
"That is not possible," Anise said. "Such a process would take a great deal of time, perhaps years."
"Possible or not, it's the only hypothesis I have that explains these readings." Janet looked up from the computer screen. "I will need to do tests on the planet to verify it."
"You cannot send people to that planet." Anise crossed to Hammond. "It is an unacceptable risk. The Tok'ra council will never approve of such an act. We can gather all the information we need through this device."
"General, the only way we will be able to find out what happened is to go to the planet." Janet ignored Anise and moved to stand before Hammond. "Our readings indicate there is no danger from the toxin. The people on the planet verify those readings. Just to be safe, I have Hazmat suits and gear standing by. We can be through the gate and talking to those people in ten minutes."
"What about the DHD?" Hammond asked.
"We can take along a naquadah generator and do a manual dial to get home."
"It may be the only way to find out what happened to Jack," Daniel added.
Hammond glanced at Anise. "You say that you can get everything you need to understand what happened through that device, will you fully disclose that information to us?"
"We will share the results, yes."
"With all due respect, General, that's not good enough." Sam moved to stand next to Janet. "For us to be able to understand this contagion we need to have full access to all the data."
"You could not possibly understand what we have here," Anise said. "We would need to interpret it for you."
"He we go again," Janet said. "It sounds just like the story you gave us with the armbands."
"Enough." Hammond interrupted before the argument could escalate. Hammond looked at the monitor. The people on the planet began to approach the MALP, a mixture of fear and curiosity showed on their faces. They brandished staff weapons, zats and crude clubs and looked more than willing to use them. Signs of recent battles stained their clothes and some were injured and sick. None looked welcoming. Even without the threat of contamination, it was a dangerous situation. How much would he risk to find out what happened to one disobedient and wayward colonel? Stupid question. There was more at stake here than just Colonel O'Neill, though. They needed to find out more about the threat posed by this virus, and Anise's answer left only one course of action open.
"Doctor Fraiser, Major Carter. You have fifteen minutes to get your teams suited up. Walter, shut it down. We will dial it again when they are ready to go."
Dr. Fraiser and the three members of SG-1 headed down the steps before he'd finished. After Walter disengaged the gate, Hammond turned to face the Tok'ra.
Anise's eyes flashed in anger. "This is a mistake, General Hammond."
"Perhaps it is," Hammond agreed. "But it is my mistake to make. If you would like to accompany SG-1 on this mission, I'm sure that we can accommodate you."
Anise glared at him before she shook her head. "That will not be necessary." She looked at her handheld and then back at Hammond. "Since this has now become a joint venture, would it be possible for me to have a room to analyze the information I have received so far? I will, of course, share all the pertinent conclusions that I discover with your staff. Provided, of course, that you will also share your data."
"Of course." Hammond marveled at how quickly the Tok'ra could go from indignant and demanding to diplomatic and demanding. The inherent imbalance in the information exchange hadn't escaped his attention, but he didn't press the point. "I will inform Dr. Fraiser that she should contact you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you can use the conference room up the stairs. My staff can provide you with anything you require."
Anise nodded and left Hammond and Jacob to stand in the mostly empty control room.
"I'm sorry about this, George," Jacob said. "Despite initial resistance, the council did decide that full disclosure was the best course"
"It's not your fault, Jacob," Hammond sighed. "If Jack would be a normal officer, he would have come to me with this as soon as Anise approached him."
Jacob gave a snort of laughter. "We all know if Jack were normal none of us would be here right now."
There was a long pause, and the usual hum of the control room filled the silence.
"We will get him back, George."
"Damn right we will." Hammond just wished he felt as confident as he sounded.
***
Jack didn't know how long he watched the sun move across the sky as he relished the ability to breathe. It had been long enough for the morphine to wear off. Pain sloshed in his head when he moved and exhaustion blurred the edges of his vision. If he concentrated, he could push it all to the back of his mind and enjoy the soothing warmth of the sun on his bare skin. He couldn't stay like this, though, no matter how enticing the thought was. The dirt and grime that covered his body itched and his cuts prickled as if spiders crawled across them. His wounds needed to be tended to and camp had to be set up. The gate still needed to be buried.
He rolled to his knees, breathed through the pain and managed to stand. The world slipped around him and his head spun. The deep breaths he took stabbed pain through his chest but filled his lungs. The disconnected feeling didn't dissipate. Jack chose to ignore it.
The MALP stood only two yards away but Jack had to rest after he hobbled over to it. First order of business was to patch himself up or he'd not be around long enough to bury the gate. He dug through the supplies and found soap, towels and a fresh change of clothes. A case of bottled water was tied to the back of the MALP. Jack pulled one out and drank half of it in one long pull. The liquid soothed his hot throat but cramped his stomach. He leaned against the MALP and waited for the nausea to pass before he slowly drank the rest of the water. Standing had eased some of the fogginess and he could feel his strength return. It felt good to be able to breathe again.
Jack tucked the supplies under his arm and limped over to the medical supply box to grab several boxes of bandages, disinfectant wipes, Polysporin powder and a brace for his knee. There was a small, fast moving river just to the west of the gate. It had been free of contaminates when the SGC had studied it and Jack was sure that if he stayed out of the stagnant pools, the water would pose little danger.
He heard the river before he saw it. The tall willow-like trees that lined its banks made it difficult to walk, but Jack followed an animal trail down to the edge of the stream. It was cool in the shade of the trees and Jack wished he'd brought a jacket from off the MALP. He slid down the grassy incline and sat on the small bank. It was even colder by the river, and he shivered in the misty air.
The tight knots of bootlaces almost defeated his cramping fingers but he worked them free and tugged his feet out of his boots. Out of their leather prison, they throbbed with every heartbeat. Once he peeled off his socks, he plunged his feet into the stream. The freezing cold stole his breath and cramped his legs but the water felt good against the rawness of his feet. He laid back and waited for his body to adjust to the cold.
Once he was sure he could stand, he pushed himself onto his protesting feet. He unstrapped his pistol and laid it on the shore, then stripped off the remainder of his clothes. Without the bandage, his knee shook, but he could keep standing if he placed most of his weight on his good leg. Except for the few that had been reopened when he pulled off his clothes, the cuts and abrasions that covered his body had scabbed over. They didn't look good, though. Most of them were inflamed and some leaked thick green pus. He dreaded the pain that would come when he cleaned them, but he couldn't leave the infections untreated.
He grabbed a cloth, antibacterial soap and began at the top. The water swirled sanguine around his feet as he worked and he watched as the bloodstained water was swept around a small bend in the river. The SG reports had stated that there weren't any predators in this area and he hoped they were right. None of his wounds were very large but they were all infected. The dirt-laden scabs soaked off and he rinsed out as much of the pus as he could. It worried him that every cut showed signs of infection; even the smallest nick had pus forming in it. He cleaned each one, biting back the pain that came when the soap crawled into the wounds. By the time he had finished, the cuts were raw and bleeding.
He scrambled back up the bank and wrapped a warm, soft towel around his battered form. Cleaning the wounds had removed most of the pus and the cold water had reduced the redness and swelling. After he dusted each of the wounds with a liberal dose of the Polysporin powder, he covered it with a sterile bandage. It took three boxes to cover them all. His skin felt hot to the touch, but his teeth chattered. Unable to come up with a good explanation for it, he wrote it off as nerves.
It was difficult to put the brace on his leg without aggravating the cuts on it but he managed, grateful to be able to stand without the threat of his knee buckling. He pulled on the clothes he had brought with him, but he didn't feel dressed until he strapped his pistol back on. For the first time in days, he felt clean. The warm socks felt good on his swollen feet even after he pried them back into his boots. Then he picked up his wet, filthy clothes and hobbled out of the willows' shade into the sunlit clearing.
Once back at the MALP, he unloaded the supplies and set up camp. Everything seemed to take forever, like he was working underwater, in slow motion. He started to set up the large tent he'd packed, then changed his mind and dug out the little one. It would provide enough shelter for the night and that's all he needed. Tomorrow, once he felt better, he'd set up camp proper. He was grateful that the tent almost set itself and he tossed a sleeping roll inside. Finally, he set up the naquadah generator and attached the electric camp light he'd brought. In the future, he would attach it to a pole, as the Jaffa had done back on Nirrti's planet. It would provide enough light to illuminate the entire clearing, until he ran out of light bulbs.
With the MALP almost bare, he climbed onto it and used the onboard controls to move it to the gate. For the next hour, he moved the weapons scattered around the gate back to his campsite. He wouldn't have been able to do it if he hadn't had the MALP. The sun was warm and sweat trickled down his face and back, but when the breeze blew, he shivered. The lightheadedness grew steadily worse, along with a heightened sense of touch that Jack always associated with fever.
Finished hauling the supplies, Jack took a moment to rest and downed several antibiotics and painkillers from the med kit. He leaned back against the MALP and let his head fall onto the cold metal of the machine. His ribs burned fire, his knee throbbed with each heartbeat and, if he concentrated, he could feel each and every one of the cuts that he'd bandaged. His sweat soaked clothes stuck to his skin and he could see stains where blood and pus had soaked through. He pulled himself over to his food supplies and forced himself to drink another bottle of water. Although it hadn't been refrigerated, it burned a cold trail down his throat and chilled his stomach.
Jack tossed the half-empty bottle aside, pulled himself onto the MALP again and guided it back to the gate. Once he'd disabled it, he could rest. Too much time had passed already. He didn't have the strength needed to actually bury the gate, but he didn't need to. All he needed was to make sure that a wormhole couldn't form. And Sam had already come up with a fast and easy way to do that. He thought he should have left her a note to thank her for her genius work. She wouldn't appreciate that he had used it to strand himself on this world after he left them all behind.
Got that right, sir.
Jack knew that the voice was all in his head but he looked around and half expected to see his second-in-command standing next to him. She would have that look of acceptance and disappointment that she wore when she didn't understand his motives. He rubbed a rough hand across his face, surprised at how hot and dry his skin was. A half of water wasn't enough, he should've drank the entire bottle.
He maneuvered the MALP behind the gate and stopped at his best guess of where the center of the ring would fall, once he knocked over. Then he untied the last bundle from the MALP and pushed it onto the green grass. The bundle was made up of two different chemicals that, when combined, created a fast growing foam that would expand to the size of the Stargate and harden into a cement-like barrier in just under fifteen minutes. Jack really didn't understand it but if Sam was right, it would prevent the gate from establishing an event horizon. And really, how often was Sam wrong?
I was wrong about you. Sam's voice echoed in his head again.
Jack frowned. What did she mean by that? Wait. What did he mean by that? It was just his mind playing tricks on him, after all. Jack rubbed at a growing headache.
With the MALP close to the gate platform, he grabbed a small pack of explosives and climbed onto it. If he set the charges right, the gate would topple over and land flat on the ground behind the dais. Then he'd just have to activate Sam's Instant Wormhole Blocker, and everything would be fine.
You have an odd definition of 'fine' -- it was Daniel's voice this time -- stranded alone in a deserted world, hallucinating that your friends are talking to you.
Jack blinked against a sudden wave of dizziness. His knees buckled and he fell to the platform. Too lightheaded to stand, he half-crawled, half-rolled over to the gate.
You do not appear to be well, O'Neill. Perhaps you should rest.
"Perhaps you guys should leave me alone," Jack muttered aloud. "This is why I didn't tell you what I was doing. If you can think of a better solution let me know."
The voices didn't answer and Jack placed small squares of C-4 around the bottom of the gate.
***
"If he's not on the planet, where the hell is he?" General Hammond's voice echoed down the stairs from the conference room.
Daniel ignored the stares of the technicians in the control room and jogged up the steps. He understood the general's frustration. They had returned from the planet with the good news that the virus had been rendered benign. None of the people on the planet had tested positive for any traces of the contagion, nor was it present anywhere in the environment. Although Anise still hadn't agreed, Janet was sure that, over time, the planet had developed a counter-agent to the virus, one that provided a natural immunity. When Jack had destroyed the pyramids and released the virus, it had been neutralized. Nirrti's virus was no longer a concern.
However, they'd also returned without Jack. The people on the planet told them the story of the mysterious man who saved them and destroyed the houses of the 'evil gods'. They'd painted Jack as something of a supernatural being himself, able to withstand torture that would kill a normal human and to control fire and reign down destruction. Daniel would have been amused by it all, if Jack had been around to be uncomfortable by the deification. The people told how he used all his strength to destroy the pyramids and then had fallen beneath the rubble, unable to save himself. A few of the more brave souls had uncovered him, gathered all his belongings and piled them to the side. Then, afraid of the power this amazing being exhibited, they'd hid and watched his resurrection from safety.
The story they wove of Jack's struggle to haul his equipment to the gate, his use of the gods' chaapa'ai, and of his magical communication with a spirit from another world, both fascinated and frightened. Jack's battered image from the communicator haunted Daniel's thoughts, as did the knowledge of everything that Jack had endured. Jack's disappearance through the gate a moment before he'd destroyed the DHD was painted as another selfless act to keep the evil gods from stealing them away again. It was clear that the only reason the rescue team hadn't been attacked when they came through the gate was they were dressed like Jack.
Anise's voice echoed around the conference room as he entered. "It appears he used the Stargate to leave the world after his communication with Vertas."
"But it doesn't make sense," Daniel took the seat between Sam and Teal'c. "Jack thinks he is a carrier. He believes that he will infect any world that he goes to. There's no way he would do that."
"I, too, am puzzled by his actions," Teal'c said. "However, that is how it appears."
"I don't care how it appears," Daniel insisted. "Jack would never go to another planet knowing that he'd kill everyone living there."
"Wait." Sam stood up; excitement flushed her face. "What if he knew no one would die?"
"You have an idea, Major?" General Hammond asked.
"An uninhabited planet. If he gated to an uninhabited planet, no one would die. He wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life trapped on a planet full of the dead and there would be no chance that we would ignore his request to leave him alone. I'm such a fool. This explains all of it."
"This explains all of what?" Daniel couldn't keep up with Sam's train of thought.
"Why the colonel sent a MALP and UAV through the gate. Why he blacked out the base."
With all the developments, Daniel had almost forgotten about what had started this all in the first place. "You think he's on P45-780?"
"No. I believe that Colonel O'Neill found an uninhabited planet to gate to after the mission was done. He sent the MALP full of supplies to that planet and then he blacked out the SGC to cover his tracks."
"Do you now believe that O'Neill intended to cause the power loss?" Teal'c asked.
"I do."
Daniel's protest was cut off by a small wave of Sam's hands. Her eyes glinted with a life that Daniel hadn't seen in them since Jack had left. If she thought she had it figured out, he would listen to her. He leaned back and waited for her to continue.
"In fact, I don't think it was a malfunction at all. We know Colonel O'Neill altered the surveillance feeds so we couldn't see where he dialed. I think he opened a gate to the planet he is now on and that's where he sent the MALP and UAV. In fact, that would explain why he used a UAV at all."
"It does?"
"Reconnaissance." Jacob answered Daniel's question. "Jack would have wanted to make sure that the planet was still uninhabited. He'd need an aerial survey to get the best look."
Sam nodded. "The UAV he used was a prototype, with a longer range and higher flight ability. He also added some extra monitoring equipment to it. It didn't make any sense when I first looked at it, but it's the perfect tool for locating long-range life signs. If I had wanted to know if the planet was uninhabited, that's the UAV I would've used."
She turned to General Hammond. "The reason we didn't find the equipment on P45-393 is because he sent them to an entirely different gate address."
"How is that possible? According to your own reports, the gate only dialed P45-393 and it had an open connection to that world when the power failed.
"Once Colonel O'Neill closed the gate to where ever," she waved her hand in the air, "he dialed P45-393 and inputted a computer program that would erase all record of the previous wormhole. Then he instituted a large area blackout that would force a hard reboot of the system, effectively masking everything he did."
From the silence that met Sam's explanation, Daniel knew they all thought the same thing. "Oh, come on, Sam. We all know Jack couldn't write a computer program to do all that."
"He didn't have to," she answered. "I did."
"Would you care to explain that, Major?" General Hammond ordered.
"After the Touchstone incident, Colonel O'Neill asked me to investigate if it would be possible to illicitly use our Stargate. My research showed it would be impossible to secretly open a wormhole with our gate. However, in the report I submitted, I outlined the possibility of using our Stargate and then eliminating the gate coordinates from all the computers: primary and backups. I included the programs needed to do so."
"You believe that Colonel O'Neill used those programs to hide his activities?"
Sam nodded. "When the surveillance cameras came back on after the blackout, you can see the colonel pick up a piece of paper from the console. The picture isn't clear enough for me to be sure, but I'll bet it was my program."
Daniel groaned. "But that puts us right back were we started from. We still have no way to track where he went."
"We might."
Sam's smile gave Daniel hope. "You have an idea."
"Yes." Sam crossed to the computer on the side of the room. "We implemented a new diagnostic program last month. It compares how long it takes to dial each address. That's all it records, the address and the speed. It's not part of the normal gate computer system and the programs I submitted to Colonel O'Neill didn't include it. I didn't think it was important before because we thought we knew where the Colonel had dialed."
"Then all we have to do is find the one address on the list that we haven't dialed and that will be the address of the planet Jack is on?"
"Right." She gestured to the computer. "With your permission, General. I can access the information from here."
"Very well."
Daniel rubbed his arms, as if trying to warm himself up. "Once we have the address, we just have to drag him back here."
"And the sooner the better," Janet Fraiser's voice came from the top of the stairs. "Sorry to interrupt, General, but I have some information you need to see." She crossed the room and handed the general a small packet of papers. "Several of the refugees from Nirrti's planet are in critical condition in the infirmary and they all exhibit identical symptoms."
General Hammond asked the question they all had. "Is it the virus?"
"No, sir. But I believe it is related to the planet. All of them have wounds that have become septic. The infection has spread throughout their bodies at an alarming rate. They told me that several members of their group had died on planet from the same symptoms days after they received what should have only been minor injuries. I checked on the wounded from the planet, all of their wounds display indications of the infection.
"I've started them on treatment. A cocktail of antibiotics slows the advance of the infection but we need to isolate the bacteria that are the cause in order to develop an effective treatment. What I'm doing right now is just a stopgap. If we don't find a way to fight this specific bacteria. . . They have a day, two tops."
"What is the danger to the base, Doctor?"
"Minimal. I've initiated decon protocols on everything brought back from the planet as well as the personnel." She glanced apologetically at SG-1. "You will have to report for a complete scrub down immediately. All base personnel that sustained an injury in the last three days are required to report to the infirmary so we can monitor any possible cross contamination. It's all just a precaution, though. I don't believe there is a danger unless you incurred the wound on the planet."
The picture of Jack, battered and bleeding, flashed before Daniel's eyes and churned his stomach. "What about Jack?"
Janet's eyes were full of sympathetic concern. "I don't know. He was exposed. It's fast moving and becomes life threatening within days. We need to find him. Soon."
"I've got it." Sam's triumphant cry cut through the sudden stillness. She grinned over at them. "PT9-780."
It took Daniel a moment to remember that she'd been trying to figure out where Jack had gone. "Are you sure?"
"It’s the only unauthorized gate address," she said. "He has to be there. I've sent it to the dialing computer." She snapped to attention in front of General Hammond. "With your permission, sir?"
"I'll hold off on dialing until you three complete the Doctor's decon protocols. Be quick."
Daniel bit back a protest and trailed after Sam and Teal'c as they followed Janet down the stairs. Sam was sure they had the right place but Daniel feared that it wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing with Jack ever was.
Necessary Sacrifices, Part 5
Fandom: SG1
Characters: All of them
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 53,110
Warnings/Spoilers: Mentions of episodes through the 4th Season
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Summary/Notes: Col. Jack O'Neill blacks out the base and then promptly disappears. What is Jack planning and what is he willing to sacrifice in order to accomplish that plan? Can the team find Jack before it's too late? What if it's already too late?
Necessary Sacrifices: Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4
Daniel watched Jacob and Anise emerge from the Stargate and exchange greetings with General Hammond. Daniel, along with the other members of SG-1, had wanted to be in the gate room to meet them, but the general had confined them to the briefing room. It was an effort, Daniel knew, to keep their ugly mood from infecting the entire base. They had spent the night and most of the morning at Jack's house, then raced back to the SGC as soon as the general had told them Anise was on her way. That was more than three hours ago. As each minute had passed with no indication of the Tok'ra's arrival, the team had become more and more irritable until they couldn't even talk to each other.
Daniel gave a last disgruntled look at the gate as it closed and, once sure that General Hammond, Jacob and Anise were on their way up, began his now-familiar path around the room. Teal'c spared him one raised eyebrow and then went back to contemplating his fingers that were once again steepled in front of him. Daniel envied Teal'c's outward calm but he could tell from the Jaffa's tightly clamped jaw that he, too, felt the pressure. Sam had given up waiting after the first fifteen minutes and commandeered the only computer in the room to continue her investigation into what, exactly, Jack had been doing when he had blacked out the SGC. Daniel thought that it was an exercise in futility but after several churlish exchanges, he'd stopped pointing that out to her. Unable to sit, he'd taken up pacing again. To occupy his mind, he counted the number of laps he'd completed since they'd returned to the SGC.
He'd just finished lap number one hundred thirty-four when General Hammond appeared at the top of the stairs; Jacob and Anise followed. The general nodded for them to have a seat around the table, and they did so in silence. General Hammond and Jacob also sat at the table while Anise walked to the front of the room. From the way that she glanced at them, Daniel suspected she was aware of the unwelcome reception that she had walked into.
"You are aware of situation with Nirrti's lab and the contagion that we discovered there." When the statement was met with silence, Anise continued. "As you suspect, we approached Colonel O'Neill to help the Tok'ra eliminate this threat to all of us."
"Colonel O'Neill is under my command," General Hammond said. "You have no authority to ask any of my people to do anything without first speaking to me."
"We. . ." Anise shot a look at Jacob before she continued, "I felt that the fewer people that were involved in the decision, the better our chances for success.
"There is also the fact that this is a Tok'ra issue. We discovered and investigated this problem. Our operatives risked and lost their lives in order to gather the information. We came up with the vaccine and the plan to destroy the contagion."
"This is about credit?" Daniel asked, exasperated. "It must really bug you that you need a lowly Tau'ri to actually carry out your plan."
"We lost several Tok'ra before it was discovered we were unable to tolerate the vaccine. Many were willing to sacrifice themselves to stop this. The loss of even one Tok'ra lessens us in a way that you cannot comprehend."
"Whereas Jack is expendable?" Daniel didn't try to rein in his anger. "It doesn't matter if he dies?"
"Enough." Jacob cut off any reply the angry Anise might have had. "This is not helping anyone -- especially Jack."
Daniel took a couple deep breaths and realized he was standing. He sat down shakily and muttered an apology to Jacob.
Anise started to say something, but Jacob's raised hand stopped her. He nodded his head and when he spoke it was Selmak who addressed them. "It wasn't about credit, Dr. Jackson. It was about secrecy. When the subject was discussed by the Tok'ra High Council, some were concerned that, if we fully involved the Tau'ri, you would demand complete access to the information that we have. There was the possibility that you would want to study the contagion yourself."
"Yes," Sam said. "If this virus is half as deadly as you purport it to be, we should investigate it and devise a more effective vaccine."
"I told the High Council you would feel that way," Anise said.
"Would it not be in everyone's best interest to develop such a vaccine?" Teal'c asked.
When Anise didn't answer, Jacob did. "The vaccine is a deadly poison to a symbiote when injected into a host's body. Some of the council was concerned that that information could be used against us if it fell into the wrong hands."
"There are those that still feel that way," Anise said. "The compromise was to limit full disclosure only to those who need to be informed."
Daniel scoffed.
Anise looked across at him. "Colonel O'Neill understood the necessity."
"He would wouldn't he?" Jack O'Neill never told anyone, anything. "The man thrives on secrets and black ops. You had to know that Jack's reasons for not telling anyone were entirely different than yours."
"Motives are immaterial as long as the goals are the same. In this case: secrecy."
"If it worries you so much, why tell us now?" Sam asked.
"The general has made it clear that not being forthcoming about this mission will adversely affect the Tok'ra-Tau'ri relationship."
"You're damn right it will," Hammond said. "Our relationship is based on trust and if you cannot trust us, there will be no relationship."
"Do you trust us with all your weaknesses, General?"
"Can we focus on what happened to Jack, please?" Daniel cut in. "You came here and offered Jack the opportunity to play the hero, which he jumped at. Let's just skip to the 'where he is now' part."
"Vertas, the Tok'ra in orbit around the planet, has just contacted me. He reported that Colonel O'Neill spoke with him a short time ago and stated that the mission was completed successfully. The pyramids and the contagion were destroyed."
"And the colonel?" Sam asked. "How was he?"
"Vertas did not detail Colonel O'Neill's condition; he merely reported the success of the mission."
"You have a recording of the communication between Colonel O'Neill and your operative?" General Hammond asked.
"Yes."
"We will need to see it."
Anise's eyes narrowed at the demand. "I assure you that I have told you all the pertinent information."
"I'm sure you have. We will still need to see the communication."
Anise reached into the bag hung at her side and pulled out a small oval device that she set on the conference table. "When Colonel O'Neill spoke to Vertas he instructed that this message be shown to you when you asked to see his transmission from the planet."
"A message from Jack?" Daniel asked. "Just when were you going to tell us about it?"
"When you asked to see his communication from the planet, as the colonel requested." Anise pushed a button on the device and a hologram of Jack appeared over it.
"Yeah. I hope I've got this thing turned on right." Jack's voice echoed through the room, disproportionately loud when compared to the small image it resonated from. "Anyhow, by now I'm sure you've figured everything out. I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing this by my own choice. Anise said that we have very little time to deal with this and I am the logical choice for this type of mission." The holographic Jack shook his head. "Yeah, I know. I can't believe I'm saying it either, but she's right. This is a one way trip and the fewer people going on it the better."
The holographic figure held up his hand as if he could hear the protests that Daniel and Sam had started to voice. "Just be quiet, you two. It would have shaken out like this anyhow. Neither Sam nor Teal'c could've been part of the operation and, face it, Daniel, you're not SF. I can handle this myself. There was no need to lose anyone unnecessarily on this mission. Besides, I probably would've been stuck with a bunch of marines who don't like to fish." He shuddered. "Can you imagine that?"
The familiar figure of Jack, dressed in black and fully armed, glanced around and peered at something behind him before he looked back at the recorder. "Ok, we're almost there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine and doing this with a sound mind and all. As sound as it ever was, I suppose." He gave a patented O'Neill self-effacing grin. "General, a full account of my contact with Anise, my preparations and my reasons for accepting the mission is in a report that should be in base mail. I put in a resignation letter, just in case that will make things easier for you. I'm sorry for the problems I caused. I meant no disrespect to you, sir.
"I also wanted to tell my team one more thing. . ."
Jack faded off and leaned conspiratorially forward, and Daniel found himself doing the same thing.
"Listening, kids?" Jack asked. "Good. Now, stay the hell away from here!"
Jack's commanding voice snapped Daniel back in his chair. It had a similar effect on the other members of the SG-1, and General Hammond frowned at the holograph as Jack went on.
"Don't send me any care packages, don't send a MALP through, don't drop mailbags from orbiting ships, because I'm not gonna answer. Got that? The last thing I need is you hovering around me, ruining my peace and quiet." Jack stopped and ran his hand through his hair. "That about covers it." He looked around, then snapped to attention and saluted. "It's been an honor and a privilege to serve with all of you." He reached forward and the image faded before them.
The room was silent for a moment as they tried to come to terms with what Jack had said. Daniel couldn't believe Jack's last message was one that ordered them all to stay away. After four years of working together, Jack had chosen to end their friendship with the Tok'ra equivalent of a message on an answering machine. It felt so. . . unfinished, so unfair. And so typically Jack. Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over at his teammates. He could see that the message had affected them in the same way.
General Hammond found his voice first. "You have the communication between Colonel O'Neill and the orbiting Tok'ra ship?"
"We have a record of that communication, yes," Anise said.
"I want to see that, now."
"Colonel O'Neill requested that this be the only message we show you." Anise gestured to the device in the middle of the table.
"I'm requesting to see the other message. Will that be a problem?"
"No," Anise said. "I was just trying to honor Colonel O'Neill's wishes on the matter."
Daniel gave a small snort. "Anise wanting to honor Jack's orders," he spoke quietly to Sam but didn't care that his voice carried to the others around the table. "That's a new one."
Anise's eyes snapped to him for a moment, but the general spoke before she could.
"Please show us the communication."
Anise stared at him a moment before she nodded. "As you wish." She placed another communicator on the table and pushed the button.
The holographic Jack that appeared above the table this time hardly resembled the man they had watched moments before. This Jack crouched close to the recorder, an image of a dismantled and scarred DHD stood behind him. His face was battered and bruised, with several deep, inflamed gashes clearly visible. Dark stains covered large portions of his uniform and bloody wounds could be seen beneath several rips. Daniel could see the telltale scorch marks from a staff weapon blast low on Jack's left side. If Jack's favoring of his right knee wouldn't have given away that injury, the bandage wrapped tightly around it would have. Sam gave a small gasp at the sight of Jack, and the general swore under his breath.
Daniel didn't pay attention to the conversation Jack had with the Tok'ra, instead he focused on the way Jack moved and spoke. He seemed perpetually out of breath and took small, shallow gasps of air between words. His eyes were bright and feverish, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. Daniel watched as a drop of it fell from Jack's chin; a perfect holographic teardrop of blood that disappeared from the camera's view before it hit the ground. He watched a second drop form when the words Jack said cut through his fixation.
"Ain't gonna happen," Jack's voice was sharp, but he swayed as he spoke. "I did my bit. Now you're gonna let me be. That's the new plan."
"There is valuable data--"
Daniel could clearly hear the annoyance in Vertas' voice as it rang through the room but before the Tok'ra had finished his sentence Jack had pulled himself to his feet. It wasn't until Jack pointed it at them that Daniel realized that he held a staff weapon. Light danced around the opening, there was a brilliant blast of light and the hologram disintegrated.
It took Daniel a moment to pull his eyes away from the spot where Jack had been. From the silence around the table, he wasn't the only one so affected.
"General, with all due respect--"
General Hammond held up his hand to silence Sam and looked over at Anise. "We will need the gate address for this world."
"Absolutely not."
"I'm afraid I must insist," Hammond said, his voice calm and authoritative.
Anise stared at Hammond. Daniel thought that her attempt to look formidable would work better if she didn't wear such ridiculously sex-kittenish clothes. Hammond didn't blink and Anise broke eye contact first.
"Sending any form of device to this planet is an unacceptable risk, General Hammond," Anise said. "A risk that even Colonel O'Neill has wisely ordered against."
"Even if Colonel O'Neill had acted under the authority of the US Air Force, I am his commanding officer and he cannot order me to do anything."
Daniel flicked his pen in his fingers as he waited for Anise to answer. He wondered how far the general would go to get the address, wondered how much Anise would lose to keep it a secret.
After a moment of silence, General Hammond rose from his seat. "You will not be allowed to leave the base until you have supplied us with the address."
Daniel smiled grimly. Go General! Hammond was good at playing hardball.
Anise glared first at the general and then at Jacob. "This reckless behavior is exactly why we should not have told the SGC about this."
"You lost that option," Hammond said, "when you chose Colonel O'Neill to do the mission."
"At the very least, we will need the address in order to lock it out of our dialing program," Sam said. "It wouldn't do to have us accidentally going to this planet."
An idea struck Daniel. "Besides we can help you."
Anise narrowed her eyes at him. "In what manner?"
"Jack destroyed your communicator and your way to monitor the planet. You give us the gate address and we send a MALP through with any scientific equipment you need.
"We can place another monitor on the planet without your help."
"No. You can't." Sam cut in. "You can't ring anything down because you risk bringing the virus back up with the ring transfer."
"That right," Daniel agreed. "The gate is the only safe way to get more equipment there, but you can't use it because Jack will watch for it and he will just blast anything you send through." For once Daniel was pleased with Jack's trigger-happy reputation. "Jack says he doesn't want to talk to us, but I doubt he'll destroy a MALP before he hears what we have to say."
"I could have a MALP ready to go in thirty minutes," Sam said. She glanced over at Hammond. "What do you think, sir?"
"It sounds like a workable compromise. Anise?"
When Anise didn't say anything, Selmak spoke. "It will allow you to continue you research into the toxin, Anise. We accepted the possibility we would have to share this information with the Tau'ri."
"Very well," Anise said. "I will have to return to my lab to retrieve the equipment I need."
"That sounds fair," General Hammond agreed. "However, we will require the address before you leave."
Daniel thought Anise would refuse, but she nodded. "On the condition that you do not send anything to the planet until I return."
"Fine," General Hammond said. "Just don't take too long. I want to speak to Colonel O'Neill as soon as possible." The general nodded to the two SFs that Daniel hadn't noticed standing at the top of the stairs. "These gentlemen will escort you to the operations room where you can give Sergeant Harriman the address. Once he has that, he will dial you out of here."
Anise looked as if she had swallowed something distasteful, but she didn't say anything as she followed the SFs down the stairs.
"With you're permission, General, I will prep the MALP," Sam said. She barely waited for his approval before she headed downstairs.
Jacob looked over at Hammond. "You play a dangerous game, George."
"I didn't start this, Jacob. You have no right to use my personnel without SGC approval." Hammond stood and crossed to his office.
Daniel turned to Jacob. "You think the general is handling this wrong?"
"I think this whole situation was handled wrong." Jacob sighed. "Sometimes I think the biggest problem we face isn't the Goa'uld but our own stubborn pride."
"Maybe," Daniel agreed. He reached across the table and pressed the button on the second communicator. Jack's battered form flickered to life above the table once more. "Then again," Daniel said, "that stubbornness may be the only thing that saves us."
***
Jack watched the stars drift across the night sky. There was a gradual lightening of the darkness and the stars winked out. Every muscle in his body ached. It took all his energy to breathe and then all he could manage were small mouths full of air that left tiny puffs of mist in the cold of predawn. He just wanted to lie there and wait for the sun, but a lonely fear ate at the back of his mind. Right now, this world was a deathtrap for anyone who came through the gate.
After two tries, he managed to sit up and pain stole what little breath he had. When he tried to stand, the agony spiked. He collapsed, retching. His head swam, and black dots appeared in front of his eyes. By the time he could focus again, the world was lighter and the sun had appeared over the distant mountains. With a breathless curse, he scanned the jumble of equipment that surrounded him for the med kit. He crawled over to it, pulled out another syringe of morphine and injected it. The drug hit and he closed his eyes against the rapid spin of the world. He laid back and waited for the drug to take full effect.
A heavy tiredness crept over him and a strange buzz filled his head. Sleep. He just needed a little sleep. What harm would there be in a short nap? Despite the rising sun, the surrounding world darkened and encouraged him to rest. Jack savored the peaceful feeling that drifted up his arms and legs, a comforting lullaby of numbness. The darkness deepened and Jack didn't want to fight any more.
Breathe, Colonel!
The sound of Doctor Fraiser's voice jerked him awake, and he gasped for breath. His eyes refused to open; his head throbbed. Was he in the infirmary? The bed was cold and hard. He must have broken a rib. His chest was bound too tightly. What was he was supposed to do? Thoughts were elusive and the memory didn't come. He was so tired. The darkness called to him.
You need to breathe!
His body followed the order, but it felt as if he breathed through a pillow. He lifted a leaden arm and attempted to push it away. His hand fell on his uncovered face. His heart pounded and his head swam. What was wrong? Why couldn't he get any air? Panic stabbed through him.
Breathe!
None of it made any sense, but he did as she commanded.
Again.
He focused on breathing. In. Two, three. Out. Two, three. In. Two, three. Out. The oppressive darkness lessened and awareness slid into his consciousness. Janet wasn't here. This wasn't even Earth.
It's the morphine, Colonel. Janet's voice faded in and out, a mere memory. She had told him something once, something about morphine and breathing. He forced his eyes open and continued to count his breaths. In. Out. In. Out. When he stopped thinking about it, the air didn't come.
The sun was high in the sky before his breaths would come without conscious effort and even then, he couldn't take a deep breath. His side spit fire when he moved and the ache of his other injuries had returned. Unable to climb to his feet, he rolled to the steps that led down from the gate and slid off the edge of the platform, somewhat surprised when his legs held. By the time he hobbled across the long grass to the MALP, his head swam from lack of oxygen. The air felt damp and a heavy, sweet fragrance drifted from clumps of deep violet flowers that dotted the field. The thick scent tickled his nose and he tasted it with each breath. When he reached the MALP, he leaned against it and stared at his hands through cloudy eyes. There was a blue tinge to his nails and small, weak tremors shook them.
Collapsed lung. It was the only explanation. He tried to remember when it could have happened but there had been so many blows, so many injuries. If he'd broken the ribs and they'd punctured the lung, he'd fill with blood and that would be about it. Even if the medical equipment necessary was on the MALP, he couldn't set up a chest tube. The fact that he wasn't coughing up blood gave him hope that wasn't the case. He just might be able to fix this on his own.
The large medical box was clearly marked with a large red cross and he flipped it open to stare at the alien looking instruments in it. Now what? Draw the air off with a syringe, he guessed. Then seal that hole and pray that the lung inflated. He hunted through the box and settled on a large syringe with a thick, evil-looking needle attached. It looked like something the doc would use. Another search through the box netted him a bottle of liquid bandage. It wasn't what the doc would use but it would seal the hole. He stared at the box and wondered if had missed some high-tech miracle tool.
Unable to think of an alternative, Jack pulled out some disinfectant wipes, closed the medical case and sank onto the soft grass. The clasps on the flak vest refused to release and he had to cut it off with his field knife. He saw that the side of the vest had been melted by the near miss of the Jaffa blast. There were numerous gouges in the protective material, which included a deep indentation over the left shoulder but he didn't remember getting hit. His shirt was even more difficult to remove. It was caked with dust and blood; when he pulled at it, it reopened the wounds that it had dried to. Raw cuts covered his chest and arms and deep, mottled bruises colored his skin. He didn't want to think how much it would hurt when the morphine wore off.
The sun felt good against his skin and he stretched out away from the shadows of the MALP. His stiff muscles screamed in protest when he rolled onto his good side. He ripped open a wipe and swabbed clean a patch of skin over his ribs. The effort required made him pant and his head rang again, but he focused on his task. The filthy wipe tossed aside, he pulled the syringe out of its sealed bag. The needle gleamed and he bit back the bile that rose in his throat.
It was easy to find the space between two ribs, and he placed the tip of the needle against his skin. It was an awkward position to be in and his abused body refused to bend the way he needed. He counted to three, and then counted to three again. Finally, he jammed the needle into his side.
"Oh, God." He didn't think he could hurt any more, but he was wrong. The bite of the needle caused his side muscles to cramp and he almost jerked the syringe free in the spasm. The needle scraped against a rib, and a strange, grating sensation traveled through his bones. The panic subsided and he opened his eyes.
A thin trickle of fresh red blood cut through the crusted dirt on his chest but he ignored it. How far in should the needle should go? If he hit the lung it would bleed -- or bleed more, as the case may be. Gritting his teeth, he drew the needle out until he could feel the tip of it bump against the rib. His arms ached from the position he forced them into, and his side muscles continued to twitch.
He gripped the needle tightly with his left hand and tugged the stopper up with his right. It slid easily up the barrel of the syringe, drawing nothing but air. When he had pulled it to the top, Jack paused. Now what? Why am I always unconscious when the doc does this? The tightness around his chest eased but it was still impossible to take a deep breath. After a second's hesitation, he pulled the stopper up just a little more, just to be sure to draw out as much air as possible. Instead, he yanked it completely out of the syringe. Panicked, he jerked the needle out of his side. He fumbled with the liquid bandage bottle and managed to spread some of it over the area where he had inserted the needle.
His side muscles cramped again, and he struggled to straighten his side to stretch the stitch away. When he inhaled sharply against the pain, he took his first good breath in hours. Relief at being able to breathe pushed all discomfort from his mind. He took another, even better, breath and laughed. The laugh changed to a cough, but it was good to cough. The last time this had happened to him, Janet had made him lay on his side for hours and threatened that if he didn’t keep coughing, she'd put in a chest tube.
He lay in the sweet-smelling grass and coughed into the stillness, elated that each breath came easier than the last. The blueness of his skin diminished and the cobwebs in his mind drifted away. The suns soothed his tired muscles as he breathed. He wondered what Janet would say about his field medicine technique and didn't know if he should be glad he'd never find out.
***
"Chevron Seven, locked." Sergeant Harriman's voice rang through the control room. The gate sprang to life and then settled down into its familiar blue.
General Hammond frowned down at the people crowded around the MALP in the embarkation room. None of them looked up when the gate opened. "Is there a problem, Airmen?" he asked.
Samantha Carter and Doctor Janet Fraiser, the two closest to the MALP looked up. "No, sir," Sam answered. "We just wanted to double-check that the equipment Dr. Fraiser added won't interfere with the camera."
"We had to make some minor adjustments, sir." Janet waved her hand at the equipment. "If the computers can read the signals off the MALP, we're set."
Hammond looked over at the Lt. Graham Simmons, who monitored the equipment. "Yes, sir. Signal is five by and we are recording."
"We're all set, Doctor."
"And the Tok'ra's equipment?" Sam asked.
Anise, who stood at the back of the control room, studied a small handheld computer before she nodded. "It appears to be working."
"Very well." Hammond announced over the mike. "Let's do this."
Sam and Janet left the gate room and ran up into the control room. Janet stood behind Simmons, to watch the information as it came in from her equipment. Sam stopped next to Daniel and Teal'c; and Jacob left Anise's side to stand by them. Hammond nodded at them and then spoke over the mike. "We have a go."
In tense silence, they watched the MALP crawl up the ramp and push through the event horizon. Hammond's eyes already watched the video feed for the picture the MALP would send. The first image was of the DHD, or rather, pieces of the DHD that lay scattered around the clearing.
"That's weird," Daniel said. "It didn't look like that in Jack's communication with Vertas."
"No, it didn't," Sam agreed. "Are we broadcasting to the colonel?"
Walter nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. No response yet."
"If Jack doesn't want to be found, he may just ignore us."
Walter shook his head. "I'm not receiving any signs of Earth technology on the sweep. It will pick up any readings for two miles, even passive use readings."
"Get a visual of the complete area," Hammond ordered. It was possible Jack had moved further than that away but Hammond didn't think so. Jack may not want contact with them, but the gate was a danger and he wouldn't be far from it. "He may have left some indication of what happened."
Walter moved the camera in a slow sweep. It was full daylight and the signs of Jack's activities were visible. The air had a reddish tinge to it and a fine crimson dust covered everything. Even the leaves on the trees looked bloody.
Hammond saw it a second before the others did: a slight movement in the brush off to the side. "Stop. Go back." The picture edged back. "There." He peered at the screen and fully expected Jack to come out of the woods to demand that they remove the MALP at once.
Instead, a young woman dressed in tattered clothes peeked out from between the leaves. She was gone so quick that Hammond almost thought he'd imagined it.
"Did you see that?" Daniel asked.
"Indeed," Teal'c said. "It appeared to be a woman."
Daniel looked over at Anise. "I thought you said this virus would kill all the people on the planet."
Anise ignored him as she studied the information on the handheld device that was connected to her monitoring equipment.
Jacob spoke. "It would, unless they'd received the vaccine. There were reports of experimentation going on."
Hammond frowned. "If there are refugees, Jack may not be alone on the planet, after all." If people needed help, Jack would be close by.
"I don't know, George. It's possible."
"That still doesn't explain why he doesn't answer us," Sam said. "Or why we can't pick up any of his power use."
"General?" Walter's voice drew Hammond's attention back to the technician. Walter pointed at the screen. The camera had stopped. It showed a group of people gathered to one side. They regarded the MALP suspiciously and pointed staff weapons at it. Several of the armed men stood guard over two captured Jaffa who lay bound in front of them.
"That can't be right," Sam said. "You said that the vaccine would kill the Jaffa."
"It does," Jacob moved closer to the display. "It would kill the symbiote almost immediately. Those Jaffa should be long dead, either from the vaccine or the virus." He looked over at the other Tok'ra. "Anise?"
"This can't be right." Anise tapped at her screen a couple of times before she looked up.
"Someone needs to explain what's happening here," Daniel demanded
"There is no indication of the active contagion in any of the readings."
"That's great!" Sam said. "That means that Jack was able to destroy it without releasing any into the air."
"No," Anise said. "There is no sign of the active contagion, there are, however, indications of the its basic components as well as its inert form."
"What does that mean?" Daniel asked the question before Hammond could.
"It appears that the contagion had been released but that it was rendered inert or broken down into harmless components."
"She's right," Janet confirmed. "None of my readings find any of the active virus, either."
"How is that possible?" Hammond asked.
"I am not sure." Anise scrolled through the information before her. "I will have to do further study."
"There are several possibilities, sir." Janet spoke from her position behind Simmons, her eyes on the data. "From what I see here, it appears that there was something in the air that bonded with the contagion, and rendered it harmless or broke it down in to its basic, non-toxic elements."
"That is not possible," Anise said. "Such a process would take a great deal of time, perhaps years."
"Possible or not, it's the only hypothesis I have that explains these readings." Janet looked up from the computer screen. "I will need to do tests on the planet to verify it."
"You cannot send people to that planet." Anise crossed to Hammond. "It is an unacceptable risk. The Tok'ra council will never approve of such an act. We can gather all the information we need through this device."
"General, the only way we will be able to find out what happened is to go to the planet." Janet ignored Anise and moved to stand before Hammond. "Our readings indicate there is no danger from the toxin. The people on the planet verify those readings. Just to be safe, I have Hazmat suits and gear standing by. We can be through the gate and talking to those people in ten minutes."
"What about the DHD?" Hammond asked.
"We can take along a naquadah generator and do a manual dial to get home."
"It may be the only way to find out what happened to Jack," Daniel added.
Hammond glanced at Anise. "You say that you can get everything you need to understand what happened through that device, will you fully disclose that information to us?"
"We will share the results, yes."
"With all due respect, General, that's not good enough." Sam moved to stand next to Janet. "For us to be able to understand this contagion we need to have full access to all the data."
"You could not possibly understand what we have here," Anise said. "We would need to interpret it for you."
"He we go again," Janet said. "It sounds just like the story you gave us with the armbands."
"Enough." Hammond interrupted before the argument could escalate. Hammond looked at the monitor. The people on the planet began to approach the MALP, a mixture of fear and curiosity showed on their faces. They brandished staff weapons, zats and crude clubs and looked more than willing to use them. Signs of recent battles stained their clothes and some were injured and sick. None looked welcoming. Even without the threat of contamination, it was a dangerous situation. How much would he risk to find out what happened to one disobedient and wayward colonel? Stupid question. There was more at stake here than just Colonel O'Neill, though. They needed to find out more about the threat posed by this virus, and Anise's answer left only one course of action open.
"Doctor Fraiser, Major Carter. You have fifteen minutes to get your teams suited up. Walter, shut it down. We will dial it again when they are ready to go."
Dr. Fraiser and the three members of SG-1 headed down the steps before he'd finished. After Walter disengaged the gate, Hammond turned to face the Tok'ra.
Anise's eyes flashed in anger. "This is a mistake, General Hammond."
"Perhaps it is," Hammond agreed. "But it is my mistake to make. If you would like to accompany SG-1 on this mission, I'm sure that we can accommodate you."
Anise glared at him before she shook her head. "That will not be necessary." She looked at her handheld and then back at Hammond. "Since this has now become a joint venture, would it be possible for me to have a room to analyze the information I have received so far? I will, of course, share all the pertinent conclusions that I discover with your staff. Provided, of course, that you will also share your data."
"Of course." Hammond marveled at how quickly the Tok'ra could go from indignant and demanding to diplomatic and demanding. The inherent imbalance in the information exchange hadn't escaped his attention, but he didn't press the point. "I will inform Dr. Fraiser that she should contact you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you can use the conference room up the stairs. My staff can provide you with anything you require."
Anise nodded and left Hammond and Jacob to stand in the mostly empty control room.
"I'm sorry about this, George," Jacob said. "Despite initial resistance, the council did decide that full disclosure was the best course"
"It's not your fault, Jacob," Hammond sighed. "If Jack would be a normal officer, he would have come to me with this as soon as Anise approached him."
Jacob gave a snort of laughter. "We all know if Jack were normal none of us would be here right now."
There was a long pause, and the usual hum of the control room filled the silence.
"We will get him back, George."
"Damn right we will." Hammond just wished he felt as confident as he sounded.
***
Jack didn't know how long he watched the sun move across the sky as he relished the ability to breathe. It had been long enough for the morphine to wear off. Pain sloshed in his head when he moved and exhaustion blurred the edges of his vision. If he concentrated, he could push it all to the back of his mind and enjoy the soothing warmth of the sun on his bare skin. He couldn't stay like this, though, no matter how enticing the thought was. The dirt and grime that covered his body itched and his cuts prickled as if spiders crawled across them. His wounds needed to be tended to and camp had to be set up. The gate still needed to be buried.
He rolled to his knees, breathed through the pain and managed to stand. The world slipped around him and his head spun. The deep breaths he took stabbed pain through his chest but filled his lungs. The disconnected feeling didn't dissipate. Jack chose to ignore it.
The MALP stood only two yards away but Jack had to rest after he hobbled over to it. First order of business was to patch himself up or he'd not be around long enough to bury the gate. He dug through the supplies and found soap, towels and a fresh change of clothes. A case of bottled water was tied to the back of the MALP. Jack pulled one out and drank half of it in one long pull. The liquid soothed his hot throat but cramped his stomach. He leaned against the MALP and waited for the nausea to pass before he slowly drank the rest of the water. Standing had eased some of the fogginess and he could feel his strength return. It felt good to be able to breathe again.
Jack tucked the supplies under his arm and limped over to the medical supply box to grab several boxes of bandages, disinfectant wipes, Polysporin powder and a brace for his knee. There was a small, fast moving river just to the west of the gate. It had been free of contaminates when the SGC had studied it and Jack was sure that if he stayed out of the stagnant pools, the water would pose little danger.
He heard the river before he saw it. The tall willow-like trees that lined its banks made it difficult to walk, but Jack followed an animal trail down to the edge of the stream. It was cool in the shade of the trees and Jack wished he'd brought a jacket from off the MALP. He slid down the grassy incline and sat on the small bank. It was even colder by the river, and he shivered in the misty air.
The tight knots of bootlaces almost defeated his cramping fingers but he worked them free and tugged his feet out of his boots. Out of their leather prison, they throbbed with every heartbeat. Once he peeled off his socks, he plunged his feet into the stream. The freezing cold stole his breath and cramped his legs but the water felt good against the rawness of his feet. He laid back and waited for his body to adjust to the cold.
Once he was sure he could stand, he pushed himself onto his protesting feet. He unstrapped his pistol and laid it on the shore, then stripped off the remainder of his clothes. Without the bandage, his knee shook, but he could keep standing if he placed most of his weight on his good leg. Except for the few that had been reopened when he pulled off his clothes, the cuts and abrasions that covered his body had scabbed over. They didn't look good, though. Most of them were inflamed and some leaked thick green pus. He dreaded the pain that would come when he cleaned them, but he couldn't leave the infections untreated.
He grabbed a cloth, antibacterial soap and began at the top. The water swirled sanguine around his feet as he worked and he watched as the bloodstained water was swept around a small bend in the river. The SG reports had stated that there weren't any predators in this area and he hoped they were right. None of his wounds were very large but they were all infected. The dirt-laden scabs soaked off and he rinsed out as much of the pus as he could. It worried him that every cut showed signs of infection; even the smallest nick had pus forming in it. He cleaned each one, biting back the pain that came when the soap crawled into the wounds. By the time he had finished, the cuts were raw and bleeding.
He scrambled back up the bank and wrapped a warm, soft towel around his battered form. Cleaning the wounds had removed most of the pus and the cold water had reduced the redness and swelling. After he dusted each of the wounds with a liberal dose of the Polysporin powder, he covered it with a sterile bandage. It took three boxes to cover them all. His skin felt hot to the touch, but his teeth chattered. Unable to come up with a good explanation for it, he wrote it off as nerves.
It was difficult to put the brace on his leg without aggravating the cuts on it but he managed, grateful to be able to stand without the threat of his knee buckling. He pulled on the clothes he had brought with him, but he didn't feel dressed until he strapped his pistol back on. For the first time in days, he felt clean. The warm socks felt good on his swollen feet even after he pried them back into his boots. Then he picked up his wet, filthy clothes and hobbled out of the willows' shade into the sunlit clearing.
Once back at the MALP, he unloaded the supplies and set up camp. Everything seemed to take forever, like he was working underwater, in slow motion. He started to set up the large tent he'd packed, then changed his mind and dug out the little one. It would provide enough shelter for the night and that's all he needed. Tomorrow, once he felt better, he'd set up camp proper. He was grateful that the tent almost set itself and he tossed a sleeping roll inside. Finally, he set up the naquadah generator and attached the electric camp light he'd brought. In the future, he would attach it to a pole, as the Jaffa had done back on Nirrti's planet. It would provide enough light to illuminate the entire clearing, until he ran out of light bulbs.
With the MALP almost bare, he climbed onto it and used the onboard controls to move it to the gate. For the next hour, he moved the weapons scattered around the gate back to his campsite. He wouldn't have been able to do it if he hadn't had the MALP. The sun was warm and sweat trickled down his face and back, but when the breeze blew, he shivered. The lightheadedness grew steadily worse, along with a heightened sense of touch that Jack always associated with fever.
Finished hauling the supplies, Jack took a moment to rest and downed several antibiotics and painkillers from the med kit. He leaned back against the MALP and let his head fall onto the cold metal of the machine. His ribs burned fire, his knee throbbed with each heartbeat and, if he concentrated, he could feel each and every one of the cuts that he'd bandaged. His sweat soaked clothes stuck to his skin and he could see stains where blood and pus had soaked through. He pulled himself over to his food supplies and forced himself to drink another bottle of water. Although it hadn't been refrigerated, it burned a cold trail down his throat and chilled his stomach.
Jack tossed the half-empty bottle aside, pulled himself onto the MALP again and guided it back to the gate. Once he'd disabled it, he could rest. Too much time had passed already. He didn't have the strength needed to actually bury the gate, but he didn't need to. All he needed was to make sure that a wormhole couldn't form. And Sam had already come up with a fast and easy way to do that. He thought he should have left her a note to thank her for her genius work. She wouldn't appreciate that he had used it to strand himself on this world after he left them all behind.
Got that right, sir.
Jack knew that the voice was all in his head but he looked around and half expected to see his second-in-command standing next to him. She would have that look of acceptance and disappointment that she wore when she didn't understand his motives. He rubbed a rough hand across his face, surprised at how hot and dry his skin was. A half of water wasn't enough, he should've drank the entire bottle.
He maneuvered the MALP behind the gate and stopped at his best guess of where the center of the ring would fall, once he knocked over. Then he untied the last bundle from the MALP and pushed it onto the green grass. The bundle was made up of two different chemicals that, when combined, created a fast growing foam that would expand to the size of the Stargate and harden into a cement-like barrier in just under fifteen minutes. Jack really didn't understand it but if Sam was right, it would prevent the gate from establishing an event horizon. And really, how often was Sam wrong?
I was wrong about you. Sam's voice echoed in his head again.
Jack frowned. What did she mean by that? Wait. What did he mean by that? It was just his mind playing tricks on him, after all. Jack rubbed at a growing headache.
With the MALP close to the gate platform, he grabbed a small pack of explosives and climbed onto it. If he set the charges right, the gate would topple over and land flat on the ground behind the dais. Then he'd just have to activate Sam's Instant Wormhole Blocker, and everything would be fine.
You have an odd definition of 'fine' -- it was Daniel's voice this time -- stranded alone in a deserted world, hallucinating that your friends are talking to you.
Jack blinked against a sudden wave of dizziness. His knees buckled and he fell to the platform. Too lightheaded to stand, he half-crawled, half-rolled over to the gate.
You do not appear to be well, O'Neill. Perhaps you should rest.
"Perhaps you guys should leave me alone," Jack muttered aloud. "This is why I didn't tell you what I was doing. If you can think of a better solution let me know."
The voices didn't answer and Jack placed small squares of C-4 around the bottom of the gate.
***
"If he's not on the planet, where the hell is he?" General Hammond's voice echoed down the stairs from the conference room.
Daniel ignored the stares of the technicians in the control room and jogged up the steps. He understood the general's frustration. They had returned from the planet with the good news that the virus had been rendered benign. None of the people on the planet had tested positive for any traces of the contagion, nor was it present anywhere in the environment. Although Anise still hadn't agreed, Janet was sure that, over time, the planet had developed a counter-agent to the virus, one that provided a natural immunity. When Jack had destroyed the pyramids and released the virus, it had been neutralized. Nirrti's virus was no longer a concern.
However, they'd also returned without Jack. The people on the planet told them the story of the mysterious man who saved them and destroyed the houses of the 'evil gods'. They'd painted Jack as something of a supernatural being himself, able to withstand torture that would kill a normal human and to control fire and reign down destruction. Daniel would have been amused by it all, if Jack had been around to be uncomfortable by the deification. The people told how he used all his strength to destroy the pyramids and then had fallen beneath the rubble, unable to save himself. A few of the more brave souls had uncovered him, gathered all his belongings and piled them to the side. Then, afraid of the power this amazing being exhibited, they'd hid and watched his resurrection from safety.
The story they wove of Jack's struggle to haul his equipment to the gate, his use of the gods' chaapa'ai, and of his magical communication with a spirit from another world, both fascinated and frightened. Jack's battered image from the communicator haunted Daniel's thoughts, as did the knowledge of everything that Jack had endured. Jack's disappearance through the gate a moment before he'd destroyed the DHD was painted as another selfless act to keep the evil gods from stealing them away again. It was clear that the only reason the rescue team hadn't been attacked when they came through the gate was they were dressed like Jack.
Anise's voice echoed around the conference room as he entered. "It appears he used the Stargate to leave the world after his communication with Vertas."
"But it doesn't make sense," Daniel took the seat between Sam and Teal'c. "Jack thinks he is a carrier. He believes that he will infect any world that he goes to. There's no way he would do that."
"I, too, am puzzled by his actions," Teal'c said. "However, that is how it appears."
"I don't care how it appears," Daniel insisted. "Jack would never go to another planet knowing that he'd kill everyone living there."
"Wait." Sam stood up; excitement flushed her face. "What if he knew no one would die?"
"You have an idea, Major?" General Hammond asked.
"An uninhabited planet. If he gated to an uninhabited planet, no one would die. He wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life trapped on a planet full of the dead and there would be no chance that we would ignore his request to leave him alone. I'm such a fool. This explains all of it."
"This explains all of what?" Daniel couldn't keep up with Sam's train of thought.
"Why the colonel sent a MALP and UAV through the gate. Why he blacked out the base."
With all the developments, Daniel had almost forgotten about what had started this all in the first place. "You think he's on P45-780?"
"No. I believe that Colonel O'Neill found an uninhabited planet to gate to after the mission was done. He sent the MALP full of supplies to that planet and then he blacked out the SGC to cover his tracks."
"Do you now believe that O'Neill intended to cause the power loss?" Teal'c asked.
"I do."
Daniel's protest was cut off by a small wave of Sam's hands. Her eyes glinted with a life that Daniel hadn't seen in them since Jack had left. If she thought she had it figured out, he would listen to her. He leaned back and waited for her to continue.
"In fact, I don't think it was a malfunction at all. We know Colonel O'Neill altered the surveillance feeds so we couldn't see where he dialed. I think he opened a gate to the planet he is now on and that's where he sent the MALP and UAV. In fact, that would explain why he used a UAV at all."
"It does?"
"Reconnaissance." Jacob answered Daniel's question. "Jack would have wanted to make sure that the planet was still uninhabited. He'd need an aerial survey to get the best look."
Sam nodded. "The UAV he used was a prototype, with a longer range and higher flight ability. He also added some extra monitoring equipment to it. It didn't make any sense when I first looked at it, but it's the perfect tool for locating long-range life signs. If I had wanted to know if the planet was uninhabited, that's the UAV I would've used."
She turned to General Hammond. "The reason we didn't find the equipment on P45-393 is because he sent them to an entirely different gate address."
"How is that possible? According to your own reports, the gate only dialed P45-393 and it had an open connection to that world when the power failed.
"Once Colonel O'Neill closed the gate to where ever," she waved her hand in the air, "he dialed P45-393 and inputted a computer program that would erase all record of the previous wormhole. Then he instituted a large area blackout that would force a hard reboot of the system, effectively masking everything he did."
From the silence that met Sam's explanation, Daniel knew they all thought the same thing. "Oh, come on, Sam. We all know Jack couldn't write a computer program to do all that."
"He didn't have to," she answered. "I did."
"Would you care to explain that, Major?" General Hammond ordered.
"After the Touchstone incident, Colonel O'Neill asked me to investigate if it would be possible to illicitly use our Stargate. My research showed it would be impossible to secretly open a wormhole with our gate. However, in the report I submitted, I outlined the possibility of using our Stargate and then eliminating the gate coordinates from all the computers: primary and backups. I included the programs needed to do so."
"You believe that Colonel O'Neill used those programs to hide his activities?"
Sam nodded. "When the surveillance cameras came back on after the blackout, you can see the colonel pick up a piece of paper from the console. The picture isn't clear enough for me to be sure, but I'll bet it was my program."
Daniel groaned. "But that puts us right back were we started from. We still have no way to track where he went."
"We might."
Sam's smile gave Daniel hope. "You have an idea."
"Yes." Sam crossed to the computer on the side of the room. "We implemented a new diagnostic program last month. It compares how long it takes to dial each address. That's all it records, the address and the speed. It's not part of the normal gate computer system and the programs I submitted to Colonel O'Neill didn't include it. I didn't think it was important before because we thought we knew where the Colonel had dialed."
"Then all we have to do is find the one address on the list that we haven't dialed and that will be the address of the planet Jack is on?"
"Right." She gestured to the computer. "With your permission, General. I can access the information from here."
"Very well."
Daniel rubbed his arms, as if trying to warm himself up. "Once we have the address, we just have to drag him back here."
"And the sooner the better," Janet Fraiser's voice came from the top of the stairs. "Sorry to interrupt, General, but I have some information you need to see." She crossed the room and handed the general a small packet of papers. "Several of the refugees from Nirrti's planet are in critical condition in the infirmary and they all exhibit identical symptoms."
General Hammond asked the question they all had. "Is it the virus?"
"No, sir. But I believe it is related to the planet. All of them have wounds that have become septic. The infection has spread throughout their bodies at an alarming rate. They told me that several members of their group had died on planet from the same symptoms days after they received what should have only been minor injuries. I checked on the wounded from the planet, all of their wounds display indications of the infection.
"I've started them on treatment. A cocktail of antibiotics slows the advance of the infection but we need to isolate the bacteria that are the cause in order to develop an effective treatment. What I'm doing right now is just a stopgap. If we don't find a way to fight this specific bacteria. . . They have a day, two tops."
"What is the danger to the base, Doctor?"
"Minimal. I've initiated decon protocols on everything brought back from the planet as well as the personnel." She glanced apologetically at SG-1. "You will have to report for a complete scrub down immediately. All base personnel that sustained an injury in the last three days are required to report to the infirmary so we can monitor any possible cross contamination. It's all just a precaution, though. I don't believe there is a danger unless you incurred the wound on the planet."
The picture of Jack, battered and bleeding, flashed before Daniel's eyes and churned his stomach. "What about Jack?"
Janet's eyes were full of sympathetic concern. "I don't know. He was exposed. It's fast moving and becomes life threatening within days. We need to find him. Soon."
"I've got it." Sam's triumphant cry cut through the sudden stillness. She grinned over at them. "PT9-780."
It took Daniel a moment to remember that she'd been trying to figure out where Jack had gone. "Are you sure?"
"It’s the only unauthorized gate address," she said. "He has to be there. I've sent it to the dialing computer." She snapped to attention in front of General Hammond. "With your permission, sir?"
"I'll hold off on dialing until you three complete the Doctor's decon protocols. Be quick."
Daniel bit back a protest and trailed after Sam and Teal'c as they followed Janet down the stairs. Sam was sure they had the right place but Daniel feared that it wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing with Jack ever was.
Necessary Sacrifices, Part 5
