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 Finding Faith Part 3 Jack groaned as he came back to consciousness, all the nerves in his body still painfully on edge from whatever it was that had hit him. He knew his body was in a sitting position, but that was about all he could figure out through the residual pain. He needed more information. Cautiously he opened his eyes a fraction. The light hit and he closed them again rapidly. O'Neill so hated those moments of acute photosensitivity. Crap! He wondered where he was, in one of the ships or in the mysterious underground domain of these aliens. Were they friend or foe? And he was concerned about the others. Were they okay? Jack figured there was only one way to find out the answers and forced his eyes to open, squinting as pain shot through them from the sudden influx of light. He blinked to adjust and looked around, overriding the pain through sheer force of will. A couple of the aliens were standing close-by, backs turned and deep in discussion, so they didn't notice he had awakened. Jack tried to move, fighting the agonising after-effects of the weapon. Way worse than a zat. 'I'll take a few hundred of those,' he thought ironically. He was firmly fixed in place, by what he didn't know as nothing seemed to bind him and he was just about able to move his head from side to side to view his surroundings. O'Neill's eyes widened with surprise as he attempted to take in the vastness of the cavernous expanse, clearly carved out of rock. At least he knew he was underground. Every little bit of knowledge helped. He could see the others, all seated, but unmoving. As far as he could tell they were okay, but still unconscious. This suggested they too might have been shot with the weapon and he didn't envy their awakening to the heap of pain he was currently experiencing, or the weird sensation of being unable to move. That feeling of helplessness was reminiscent of something he was reluctant to think about: the gravity device used by Ba'al each time he tortured him to death. He forced back the bile that rose in his throat at the memory, and the other bitter recollections that forced to mind. 'Damn, if I start with the flashbacks again I'll be no help to anyone,' he thought, shuddering at the notion. To distract himself, Jack looked around as far as his limited view would let him. Clearly, the cavern was deep under the forest. At first getting some perspective was hard, until he spotted the elevator making its slow progress down from above. He couldn't figure what was holding it up, as it seemed to float in mid-air. Its occupant held one of the poles but as he drew closer, Jack could not discern any discomfort caused by this mode of transport. As far as he could see, admittedly not far, it was the only way out and it looked pretty scary as the occupant was almost totally exposed. Escape looked like it might be difficult, but Jack would never give up thinking about it, no matter that he knew his legs might turn to jelly on the way up. Getting him and seven other people out of this place wasn't going to be easy and they would make easy targets on that ascent. Turning his attention to what else he could see, Jack noted what looked like a lot of activity some distance away, and much alien scientific equipment. As far as he could fathom, the activity seemed to consist of doing something with the plants gathered above ground. Maybe this was a manufacturing plant? He thought Sam would probably have it figured in minutes flat, and glanced her way to see her eyes scrunched up against the same assault by light he had suffered. She was coming around, and so were the others it seemed. 'Give 'em a little time', he thought. Briefly, he wondered what kind of trouble this little side adventure was going to cause for all of them back home and hoped it didn't spell both the beginning and the end to this training program they'd devised. His first trip off-world for who remembered how long and this happens. Oy! The elevator reached ground level and the alien alighted and approached with some armed guards who met him at the bottom. He was greeted with deference by them and similarly by the other two aliens who stood close by. 'Some kind of leader then?' Jack guessed, unsure whether that was a good or bad thing. He figured he'd find out soon enough. Straining his ears he tried to eavesdrop on the conversation but the voices were too low and distant. All he could make out was a low rumbling that signified speech and he wasn't even sure if he would understand their words if they bothered to speak to him. Where was Daniel when he needed him? When the aliens approached, they said nothing and Jack remained uncharacteristically silent, waiting for their move. The leader walked amongst his captives, checking each one, and seemed pleased with what he found. As he leaned over Jack, noting his state of consciousness, Jack tried to fathom something about the man by searching his eyes for some shreds of humanity, but he found nothing he could hang on to or use. "She will do," the leader said nodding towards Sam and one of the other's approached, handing him a device that Jack couldn't make out. They were going to do something to Sam. He didn't know what, but no way were they going to hurt her or any of the others. He had to stop them. "No!" he cried out before they could touch her. "Not her, me!" The alien leader turned to face him. Although she was scared for herself, uncertain of their fate, Sam baulked at that gut-wrenching cry which seemed to come straight from Jack's heart. She couldn't allow anything to happen to him, especially not after what he'd told her about PTS. But she knew Jack. He would stop at nothing to protect her and the rest of them. He'd give his life for them, and his sanity too if that was what it took. "Jack, don't!" she shouted, her tone filled with anguish. This might destroy Jack and she could never live with herself if that happened. "Please don't do this to yourself. Not again." "Sam, I have to do it, you know that." "No, not after what happened before, you can't, I won't let you. You're a civilian, damn it, I'm giving you an order!" "Screw that!" he exclaimed. Civilian he might be but he was still the same old Jack O'Neill. The leader had approached Jack, obviously curious about this behaviour, and he looked up into the man's eyes with a plea in his own. "Whatever you're gonna do, do it to me," he begged. The man showed no emotion but gestured to one of his companions, who approached with the unknown device. "No!" screeched Sam. "Ignore her," Jack spat emphatically, not even sure if the alien understood his words. "I'm the leader here. It's me you need to question." That's what he assumed they were going to do, probably with the help of a little pain. "That's a lie. I'm the leader," Sam countered. "She has ideas above her station," Jack quipped. He could see Sam struggling to no avail, and she was trying to persuade the alien leader to leave him alone, but Jack continued to fight her. Boy was he gonna be in trouble, that was if they got out of this in one piece. The trainees looked on fearfully wondering what was going to happen, fearing for Jack, fearing for themselves. Sam realised her pleading had probably inflamed their dread. "Most interesting," said the leader, looking from one to the other. "This one is older," he added. "Perhaps he is the better choice after all." He looked round at the others. "You will observe." Sam found her head was released from the grip of whatever held them in place, although she still couldn't move her body, and she looked around at the others, noting they seemed to be in a similar position. She knew there was probably nothing she could do to save Jack now, but was desperately trying to think of a plan to get them out of this alive. "Are you all right?" she asked her companions. The four trainees looked scared and she couldn't blame them. "Try to keep calm. We'll be okay," she said, trying to be reassuring. "Are you all right, ma'am?" asked Major Smith. She couldn't see him properly from where she was, only a small part of him. "Yes, Major, I'm fine. General!" she cried out as she saw the alien adjust the chair so that Jack was moved into a horizontal position, and reach his fingers towards Jack's temple with a device that looked something like the Goa'uld memory enhancer. Jack tried to struggle without success. "Now wait just one damned minute!" he cried, but they ignored him and the leader pressed the device into his skull. "Ouch!" He thought it hurt enough going in but didn't know what pain really was until they operated the device. The leader placed what looked like one of the remote control devices he'd seen earlier close to his temple and depressed a button. Jack screamed as his brain seemed to explode. Now he knew what a sealed can of beans felt like in a microwave. His head was on fire, he could have sworn to that, and the fire started to spread through the rest of him, starting from his neck until it reached the tips of his toes and his whole body was ablaze. Torture. He'd figured it would happen. Better him than Sam or one of the young trainees, but he'd rather it wasn't him either. What he couldn't understand, when he could think at all through the pain, was why torture without any questions? What did these aliens want? Sam looked on helplessly, distraught about Jack's anguish and agony on the inside, but struggling to appear the perfect model of a calm soldier on the outside. Blaming herself for Jack's predicament because she knew if she hadn't persuaded him to do this he would be safely buried in academia back in Colorado, Sam realised she would spend a long time beating herself up over these awful moments. If Jack experienced any long term damage she would never forgive herself, and she wasn't certain he would ever forgive her either, which would be intolerable now they had grown so close. She didn't know if she could handle being pushed out of his life again The trainee's faces were masks of horror as they watched Jack's body arc and convulse, and heard his unrelenting screams when the pain hit him in wave after wave. Sam thought she saw streaks of tears running down Thompson's face as his hero suffered. Watching Jack's torment was agonising and Sam wanted to scream, cry, kill, anything to make it stop. It scared the hell out of her that this torture might tip him over that edge he had obviously been so precariously balanced upon. "Stop it!" she cried out, but her plea was ignored. Velasquez had started to sob and Sam snapped at her to pull herself together, somewhat unkindly she thought afterwards, but she was having enough trouble with her own grief and powerless frustration over Jack's suffering. Looking at the alien leader, she realised he too seemed to be in pain, as if feeling Jack's. She tried to force her scientific and logical mind into gear, wondering precisely what it was they were doing to her friend. Sam couldn't understand why they weren't asking him anything, why there was no relief from his agony for them to question him. Not that he would tell them anything but, nevertheless, he needed some respite. "Please stop," she begged, realising her voice sounded pathetically feeble. 'Buck up soldier,' she admonished herself. Glancing at the others, it seemed they hadn't noticed. They were all too morbidly fascinated and appalled by the scene of torture playing out before them. Taylor was looking distinctly green around the gills, but made no move to shift his eyes away from the horror. This was a hard lesson for the trainees to learn so early in their careers. Going off-world wasn't a walk in the park, it was dangerous and real. People could get hurt, or killed. They might never see Earth or their loved ones again. And by witnessing Jack's pain, they were learning a lesson about what it was to be a hero, and sacrificing yourself for your fellow man. They would never know how much Jack had risked or sacrificed in the past, although Sam knew a lot of it, but they could see for themselves what he risked and sacrificed now - for all of them. She hoped they learned something from it and briefly thought that maybe even Taylor might feel some respect for the "old general" now. Jack felt his body seizing with the pain but was unable to move to minimise it, and he could hear his anguished screams, albeit that they seemed disembodied. He was disgusted with himself for his inability to control these extreme and obvious reactions and appearing so weak to his enemies and companions. The pain seemed to continue incessantly, strengthening as time passed in ways he hadn't imagined were even possible. Vomit rose in his throat and out of his mouth, trying to choke him, and he couldn't breath. He was going to die on this godforsaken world. On a training exercise? How dumb was that? Mercifully he passed out, but came too only seconds later to find he was still very much alive, shockwaves of agony undulating through him. He was going to throw up again. Shit! He thought he could hear Sam's voice asking if he was all right, but it seemed unreal and distant. "Sam," he murmured aloud. The alien was removing the device from his skull and silently gave some directions to one of the others with another head nod. Jack felt cold metal pressed to his neck and instant relief from his pain, and the nausea abated slightly. With considerable effort, he suppressed the urge to vacate any remaining stomach contents all over himself. The alien wiped away the vomit, cleaning him up with what seemed like care, and then they stepped back to regard him. Jack didn't think he was yet capable of coherent thought, never mind speech, so remained silent, but he attempted to stay alert to every movement. Easier said than done when totally discombobulated, presumably a side effect of the torture, or the cure. The leader pressed another button on the remote and Jack realised he was no longer bound by whatever had been binding him. He could move at last, but didn't try moving anything but his head. His vision was blurred and he couldn't see much beyond the alien faces, which appeared out of focus. He blinked in the hope of clearing that vision but gave up when that didn't work and simply closed his eyes. The smell of vomit on his clothing made him want to throw up once more, but again he managed to resist the impulse. "Is he all right?" he heard a voice that sounded like Sam's saying, "Tell me, I demand to know what you've done to him!" Jack opened his eyes to try and focus, uncertain as to whether he had imagined her voice, and the leader bowed his head towards O'Neill, who cautioned himself to watch, wait and learn. Besides, at that moment he wasn't sure he was capable of anything more. "I apologise if I have caused you pain, Jack O'Neill, but it was necessary," the alien said. "Do not concern yourself. We will not hurt you again, or your companions." Shit! "You know my name," Jack croaked, trying not to appear unnerved. He was pretty sure he hadn't introduced himself. "I know a great deal about you. I needed to know so I used the device that caused you pain." "W-what? You read my thoughts?" Jack asked, catching on quick. Now he was able to think a little straighter he could remember the alien pressing into his mind, pulling out what he wanted to know piece by painful piece: digging, mauling, and gouging out his thoughts, knowledge and memories as he tried to fight the awful intrusion. "I walked in your mind, yes, and I felt your pain. Much pain, both in body and spirit. It would have been easier on you if you had not fought me so vehemently. But you are a fighter, that is your way." The man bowed his head again as if in deference and respect. "I am very sorry." Jack couldn't decide if he was sorry for the pain he'd caused by using the device or for what he'd discovered as result. "Carter, the others...!" Jack exclaimed with concern for his comrades. "They are unharmed, and right here with you, Jack O'Neill," the alien said in what appeared to be an attempt at a reassuring tone, although Jack found it had the opposite effect as he realised Sam and the others had witnessed his humiliation. A pang of regret for that washed over him. "General?" Carter's enquiry was cut short by something and O'Neill's eyes tried to seek her out but still couldn't focus. "Shut her up!" the alien leader snapped at one of the others and Jack saw movement out of the corner of his eye. "S'okay, Carter," he muttered but she didn't respond and he imagined she might simply be a hallucination. Maybe everything was a hallucination. If it was he wished it would pack its bag and move out, leaving him alone to get on with life. So far he didn't like this nightmare one little bit. "Perhaps you should sit." The man nodded to a companion who adjusted the chair so that Jack was upright again. O'Neill felt surprising strong after his ordeal, but still a little unsteady and confused. His head spun with the shift of balance involved in the movement. Now he was sitting up and his vision became slightly less blurred, Jack could make out the others, still imprisoned in their chairs. "Jack, sir, are you okay?" Sam asked. In an effort to obey the earlier command that he keep her quiet, one of the aliens hit her on the side of her head with the butt of his ray gun before Jack had the chance to respond to her question. Jack winced as if he had been struck. "No, don't hurt her!" he implored, not wanting his nightmare to go there. "Don't hurt any of them. Please. Haven't you done enough?" "Stop! Do not harm them," the alien leader ordered his man. "Yes. We have done enough, Jack O'Neill, for now." "Carter?" Jack queried, his confused mind slowly realising this experience was truly real. "I'm okay sir," she replied, more concerned about his well-being than she was by the knock to her head. Deciding perhaps it was better to stay silent for now, she said nothing more, but remained alert and watchful. The alien leader passed Jack a glass of something that looked like water. His mouth and throat were parched, and he could taste the vomit, so Jack wanted to drink but was cautious about taking gifts from strange aliens. He sniffed at the contents of the glass, raising it to his lips and taking a very small sip. It seemed innocuous enough and Jack thought he was pretty choice less anyway as the aliens had him right where they wanted him, so he threw caution to the wind and took a larger gulp. Ah, cool and refreshing! It helped. "I am called Stephen, or at least that is what I have named myself in your language," his torturer said. "Well, if what you say is true, you know my name and everything else about me so I guess we don't need to chat, huh?" Jack retorted acerbically. "Perhaps, but I would be honored if you would consider it." Stephen's words appeared genuine and caught Jack by surprise. "Honored?" he questioned in a sarcastic tone. 'What the hell is this guy on?' he thought. 'Torture and then a little intimate chat? Yeah, like that's going to happen.' "I would hope our people might be friends in the future," Stephen continued, surprising the heck out of Jack once more. "Friends?" Jack responded venomously. "Generally speaking I don't expect my friends to hurt me," he said bitingly, realising his speech was slightly slurred and wondering how long it would be before he felt normal again, if ever. "You do not? That is not my understanding Jack O'Neill. I told you I saw the pain in your memories," Stephen replied and Jack recoiled from his unflinching and knowing gaze, briefly and subconsciously glancing at Sam. He was appalled by the notion that she might learn some of his thoughts and fears through listening in on this exchange. What the hell would she make of that comment? "Yeah, well you read my mind all wrong," Jack said bitterly. "I don't expect my friends to torture me." He rubbed his temples and then the back of his neck in an attempt to clear his fuzzy head and concentrate. "The pain of emotion is more acute than the pain of the body," Stephen said but Jack didn't reply to that profound statement because he knew too well how true it was. "You have suffered much loss and pain." "What else did you see in my head?" he asked sullenly. "Can't figure you'd find anything worth knowing." "I found much worth knowing. Much about your people and your world." "And me," Jack spat out, resentful that this alien might know his inner secrets and thoughts. "I understand," Stephen replied in a sympathetic tone. "You are a very private individual and understandably resent my intrusion, and my knowledge of your thoughts and feelings. Once again, I apologise. I assure you it was nothing personal. I have to consider the safety of my people, just as you concern yourself with the safety of yours, Jack O'Neill. I needed to ascertain the measure of your people, and you were my means of doing so, that is all." "All? I kinda like keeping my thoughts to myself." "Sometimes to your detriment, it seems." Jack glowered at Stephen. He had no idea how much the alien knew but, whatever, it was too much - a violation, a mental rape. The empathic and sympathetic look in the Stephen's eyes tore into Jack soul and he could no longer meet the alien's eyes. Looking away, he grasped his head in his hands, unnerved and disheartened by the notion of someone knowing so much about him. "Do you still feel unwell?" Stephen asked with concern. "I'll be fine," Jack replied without looking up. "A well used phrase, I fear." Jack released his head and looked up sharply. "Damn you to hell!" "Hell is not a concept my people ascribe to, but I understand your meaning," Stephen responded calmly. "No heaven either?" Jack asked, his curiosity aroused. "Indeed not. We have no gods." "That's nice for ya," Jack muttered sarcastically. Daniel would have loved this, trying to learn more about the culture of these people, but Jack wasn't so sure he gave a damn. Right now his concerns were centred on feeling sorry for himself, along with thoughts of retribution for the all too intimate violation. Mixed in with all this were notions of escape and concerns for Carter and the others. Jack's head was spinning with competing emotions and thoughts. Stephen stared at Jack silently for a while as if considering his next move. "Release them all. Give them water," he said abruptly to his colleagues and then turned to speak to the other captives. "We wish you no harm." Jack noticed the trainees relax just a little at those words and made a note to tell them something about being too trusting of the spoken word. Hadn't they learned anything from what they'd just witnessed? "You are still my prisoners, however, for now." Jack was pleased to see all four trainees become more alert at that. "We must leave you for a while, but do not be misled; you cannot escape from this place." With those words, Stephen turned and walked away with the armed guards and attendants, and Jack was left alone with his companions in their small corner of the cavern. Disbelieving that they had been left unguarded, he said nothing, fighting his unsettled stomach and fuzzy head to get up, but his legs betrayed him and he quickly sat again. "Crap!" he exclaimed aloud. "Sir?" Sam queried with alarm, swiftly standing and moving to his side, followed by the rest of their companions, who crowded around Jack's chair looking anxious. She squatted with her hands grasping his arms. "Jack!" Her teeth worried her lip and her eyes signalled grave concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring her anxiety for him. She had blood caking in her hair from where the alien had hit her with the butt of the ray gun. Deciding she could be worse he pulled his eyes from her to scan the others. Smith and Alexander nodded the heads slightly as if to tell him they were fine and ready for anything. The trainees merely stared in silence, cowed by what they had witnessed and the whole notion of being held captive by aliens. "We're fine," Sam replied on behalf of all of them. "Are you?" she asked in an apprehensive tone, her eyes piercing him disconcertingly. "Peachy," he replied with a quirky smile. The trainees looked relieved, willing him to be okay. As they'd watched his suffering, filled with nausea and horror, each of them had realised he'd made a sacrifice, taking the heat to keep it off them. It was an eye-opening experience for them all. Even Taylor's opinion of the old general had done an about face. No longer did he consider the man old or out of touch. There was way more to General O'Neill than a lot of musty old books. "Jack..." she started but he interrupted. "Not now, Colonel," he said in a quietly authoritative voice and she knew he was right although that didn't stop her from worrying. "Thompson, Taylor, Velasquez, Fletcher?" he queried, and the trainees met his eyes and nodded almost in unison. "Everything will be fine. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, understand?" They looked pathetically grateful for those brief words of reassurance and Jack hoped he could keep that promise. "S-sir..." Thompson ventured, visibly shaken and upset. "I-I..." "It's okay, Thompson, I'll be all right, I promise," Jack interrupted in a soothing tone. "B-but..." "Have I ever broken a promise?" "No sir." "Well I don't intend to start breakin' 'em now." He smiled reassuringly and Thompson sniffed but he nodded and said, "Yes sir." Noting Sam's continuing concern he unflinchingly met her eyes again. It took some effort, but he was determined she should stop worrying and get on with the job. "I'm okay, really," he said, shaking his head to clear the muzziness, which had returned. "Just some nasty side-effects." "Side-effects?" she queried incredulously. She had seen his agony. "Jack..." "Later. What do you think? Invisible force-field?" he asked, eager to assess their situation. Sam pulled herself back into military mode, nodding towards Smith and Alexander who moved off to cautiously check it out, both meeting resistance when they reached a point a few feet away. "Yes, sir," Alexander reported. "Can't get beyond this point." "Or past here, sir," agreed Smith. "Figures," Jack responded caustically, indicating for Sam to sit next to him. She signalled the others to sit and gather around and they all pulled the chairs closer to the two leaders. "So what do we know already?" Sam queried, looking at Jack. "Okay, let's have a brief re-cap. The elevator seems to be the only way out, or I haven't seen any alternative. Have you?" He looked round at everyone and when they shook their heads he sighed. "Hard to believe they don't have a fire exit, but it's one hell of a long way up. The weapons appear to be similar to a zat. Knocked me out and it hurt like hell. Did they use them on you too?" he asked and they all nodded. "Don't know more than that but we have to assume they can kill too. I don't think much of our chances with the elevator even if we can get through the force field. "Stephen is obviously the leader and if he's read my mind he knows way too much and that doesn't bear thinking about." Out of the corner of his eye his saw Sam wince at the implications, but he didn't acknowledge it and pressed on. "It seems he got enough to learn all he needed to know about Earth and us humans, so I don't know if that's good or bad, but he said something about being friends in the future, so I guess not all bad." Jack stopped talking and smiled ironically, wondering what positives Stephen could have discovered through the Jack O'Neill world's eye view of things. "Any of you got anything else?" he asked and they all shook their heads. "So we don't really know for sure if they are friend or foe, do we?" Sam said. "I think the jury's still out on that one, don't you?" Jack replied bitterly. "But after that experience I'm inclined to file them in the foe category." "I agree," said Sam. "I suppose we have to assume they can hear everything we're saying now." "Good assumption to make, Carter," he said turning to look her in the eye. After a lengthy pause he added, "I got nothing," and shrugged. "No plan?" she asked. "Not yet." "You will." "Happy to have your confidence, Colonel, but aren't you the one in charge?" "Old habits die hard, sir." "Yeahsureyabetchya." "We'll get out of this," she declared confidently. "That's what we do, always did," Jack agreed. They smiled at each other and turned back to face their charges. For some reason the open, yet also private, exchange seemed to have reassured them and they were also smiling. "So, we wait, and watch. Any one of you who sees anything remotely useful report it to me or the general," Sam ordered and the trainees, along with Smith and Alexander, nodded agreement. "We need you all to be alert. You heard the general, we don't know if they are friend or foe, so exercise caution. Assume they are foe until we know for sure, but don't endanger yourselves or the rest of us by trying to prove you're all heroes in the making. Clear?" The four youths nodded again and there were low rumbles of "Yes, ma'am." "Okay, relax a little. Reserve your energy," she suggested, "and let's give the general a little room." The trainees moved their chairs back in a huddle further away and started to whisper amongst themselves excitedly with a mixture of exhilaration and anxiety. "Major, lieutenant, check around to see if you can find anything useful in this small prison, okay?" The two SG officers got up to scout around their confines, not very hopeful of finding anything but eager to try. Sam turned her attention back to her friend. "Jack..." He took a hand in his and squeezed gently, but immediately disconnected from that brief touch. "I told you, I'm okay. We've got more important things to worry about." She didn't look entirely convinced. "T-they hurt you, they tortured you. After what happened..." "Let's not think about that right now, huh?" "You shouldn't have..." she started angrily. "If you hadn't suffered enough already I'd kill you, Jack O'Neill!" She was pissed with him, and worried about him, but the look in his eyes told her it was pointless to pursue it at the moment. "Read your mind? That's..." She continued more calmly, peering at him. He met her gaze steadfastly. "Yeah, scary, huh?" His eyes were filled with unexpressed emotion and Sam longed to wrap him in her arms soothingly, just as he would if it was her. Now was not the moment and this was not the place. "I'm so sorry, Jack. It must be unsettling," she said, biting her bottom lip edgily. "You bet," he agreed in an even tone. Sam was used to Jack's utilization of understatement when upset by something and understood he would abhor the notion of anyone learning his deepest thoughts and feelings, or about his entire past. Any person would think that was an alarming infringement of privacy, and feel exposed and vulnerable - perhaps Jack more than many. The flat of her hand briefly brushed over his wrist in a subtle gesture of comfort and he noticed the question remained in her eyes. "I'm fine," he stated. "Fine as in Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?" she probed. "W-what?" "Saw it said in a movie once. It reminded me of you." He chuckled, couldn't help himself, despite the physical and mental roller coaster ride brought on by the distressing and painful invasion of his thoughts. "Been waiting for an opportunity to use it?" he joked and she smiled, but when she looked into his eyes more closely her expression became serious again. "Jack..." she started to say but he looked at her sharply and Sam bit back what she'd planned to say, sighing. "Sometimes I wish you opened up more." "Do you make a habit of wishing for the impossible?" he countered, although with an unexpected warmth and jollity. Sam laughed softly. "Actually, I tend to make a habit of achieving it," she said with a humorous smirk and Jack grinned. "That's for sure," he agreed, but her amusement had disappeared to be replaced by what looked like guilt. Without even asking Jack knew what she was thinking. "Sam, don't. This isn't your fault," "Yes it is. If I hadn't persuaded you to come back... shit! I should never have considered it after what you told me. I thought..." "You thought it would help me, didn't you?" She nodded, on the verge of tears and he grasped her arm in earnest. "Don't blame yourself. Keep a grip, for the kids' sake, and mine. I need my best girl, Colonel Carter. I need you, hear me?" She nodded again, sniffing and clawing back her emotions. "I'll be okay, I promise." It wasn't a promise he was sure he could keep but he made it anyway. PTS could hit him now, in a couple of months or even years down the line, and Jack had suffered a lot of trauma in his life. He was a prime candidate and he knew it. In fact he was surprised he'd got through as many years. He'd never escaped the nightmares, never would. It was fighting them and winning that counted. Jack had always won, right up until he lost. But he could win again, he was confident of that. "I'm scared for you, Jack. I don't want..." She shook her head as she considered the possible consequences. "Please talk to me. Tell me more about what it was like when he used the device. I'm not asking for feelings, just information, like a report." She urged after a long silence, hoping that would encourage him to say something, however guarded it might be. Jack could play the unemotional, tough soldier card very well, but she knew he felt things very deeply despite the facade. Jack eyed her narrowly and decided to answer for Sam's sake, but used a dispassionate tone to convey the words. "It was pretty obvious it hurt, wasn't it? I seem to remember squealing like a stuck pig. When the alien was using the device it burned like the fires of Netu." He saw her wince at that memory and what it provoked. "I could feel him inside my head, tearing my brain apart looking for information. Rummaging in the drawers, poking into all the corners and peering into the nooks and crannies. But I'm good, really," he added hastily when he saw her look of alarm. She peered at him as if trying to ascertain the truth of his words and he eased his grip on her arm, running a finger down her soft cheek affectionately. "You all right?" he asked. Once again she nodded mutely. If he could hang on in so could she. Jack looked distant and thoughtful for a few moments. "I wish you could have got the others back through the gate and just left me here. They should never have witnessed that." His face bore a sorrowful expression and he wondered what the trainees were thinking and feeling. "Jack, that's ridiculous. Even if we'd had that chance, how could I have left you behind?" "With consummate ease?" he said with a grin. "Never that. You're a civilian, remember?" "Yeah, us pesky civilians. What a pain in the ass babysitting is, huh?" Sam chuckled, momentarily warmed by his humor, and for Jack's benefit moved away from the subject, becoming more business like. "Are these people going to let us go or are we going to have to fight our way out?" "I haven't made up my mind yet. Besides, you're in charge. Your call." She looked at him askance after his earlier claim of leadership but he chose to ignore her reproof. "They are way advanced, Sam, you can see that. Mind reading devices, for crying out loud." In his peripheral vision, a movement caught his attention and he looked towards it. "Ack, here comes Saint Stephen. No rest for the wicked." Feeling way better, he decided to test his legs and stood, finding he could balance without nausea or dizziness, and even walk. "I think the side-effects have worn off," he informed Sam and she acknowledged the words with a small nod. "Back to business, I guess." He stretched to get his circulation and muscles moving effectively and stood calmly awaiting the arrival of the alien leader, hoping these people were friends rather than foe, and he could get them all out of this mess and back to the SGC in one piece. ***************************** During the intervening months: Sam had worked hard trying to persuade Jack to get more closely involved with the trainees. She'd tried almost every trick in the book short of seduction and, although he might not have objected to that, she wouldn't allow herself to stoop so low. If any seduction was going to happen between them, then it had to be for the right reasons. For now, she was happy they were friends and had grown so close over the previous few months. No dating, just a couple of friends getting together to talk, maybe for a beer and food, or perhaps over coffee and cake, sometimes alone, sometimes with their ex-team mates. The brief exchange he had with Daniel about Sam on the night of their reunion had frequently played around in Jack's head. Why wouldn't it happen, why wouldn't it? Could it? As the friendship flourished, Jack began to wonder if it was possible after all. He just hadn't got a clue what to do about it, thinking that one of these days he would just kiss her to see how she reacted. Yep, that's what he'd do all right - one of these days. On the other hand... His head and heart were fearful of the consequences, good or bad. Jack couldn't decide what would be worse, a rejection or acceptance. Rejection meant more heartache and possibly the loss of a good friend. Acceptance meant... he wasn't entirely sure what it meant. The unknown had never truly disturbed Jack in his job, but as far as changing the status of his relationship with Sam Carter was concerned it troubled him deeply. Jack couldn't get his head around that so as a result nothing changed, except the deepening and strengthening of a friendship that meant a great deal more to him than a romance or sex that might be fleeting and never work out. Although there was opposition to her plans for Jack's greater involvement, particularly any notion of him going off-world on training missions, Sam caught the attention and approval of many, some of whom had always wanted O'Neill to stay more involved in the program than he had been of late. He had a great deal to offer, a wealth of experience that could be used for the greater good of the Air Force, and the future of the SGC and off-world activity. In the end his detractors lost the battle, although the war probably wasn't over by a long way. Eventually it came down to persuading Jack, and getting him passed as fit for the planned activities. Of course, Jack didn't know any of this was going on in the background, although wouldn't have been in the least surprised by the opposition and infighting. He'd been in DC for long enough to understand the politics with both a capital and lower case P. He and Sam discussed his involvement, arguing the toss many times, but his reluctance was deep rooted. Ultimately it was his renewed friendship with Sam and the others that drew him back in. Jack passed the physical with flying colours. Apparently he was still very fit, particularly for a man of his age. He'd never doubted it, so wasn't surprised, but was gratified by the surprise of others, particularly the quacks. Sure, he tried to keep himself fit, jogging, the gym, walking and the like, but he knew why he was still fitter than many who were way younger than him. The sarcophagus! It was an upside he'd never anticipated until it happened, first with Ba'al and then later in DC. There was some debate about reinstating him into the Air Force, but Jack fought that. He couldn't fathom how he could go back to being a general in active service and still do the things he was doing and what he and Sam had planned for him to do. Generals don't do that kind of thing, he maintained. Retired generals might get away with it, particularly maverick ones like Jack. So he maintained his civilian status, but with some privileges and fringe benefits. The first day he walked into the SGC after so long away from its confines, he was excited and anxious, unsure of what the reaction to his occasional presence might be. He had commanded these people, and now he was back after what might be seen by some as abandonment. Most of them knew nothing about his continuing efforts on their behalf, albeit in such a relatively small way. Sam, god love her, met him in the parking lot of Cheyenne Mountain determined to alleviate what she knew would be his fears. Having discussed it beforehand, they easily reverted to the "Sir", "Carter" mode they both deemed appropriate to this venue and the work at hand. Her presence eased his fears as intended and he was surprised to find willing and cheerful acceptance as he entered and walked though the halls of the SGC. Jack was greeted with nods and smiles and quick words of greeting almost as if he'd never been away. He couldn't have been happier than he was in those moments. Jack was back! ***************************** On P4X-928: Jack detected no indication that the force field had been switched off but Stephen walked right up to him and bowed his head. "We must have refreshments. I have good news," he announced, turning and expecting Jack to follow. When the general failed to move, the others followed his lead. "Come," Stephen said with a beckoning finger when he realised his captives had stayed put. "What's the good news?" Jack asked, still refusing to move. "We must eat and I will tell you." The alien smiled and then paused, looking thoughtful. "Of course you are suspicious, Jack O'Neill, it is in your nature. In my culture, the sharing of food is a gesture of friendship, an overture of more to come. I promise you no harm will come to you or your companions." Jack's eyes narrowed as he searched Stephen's eyes for truth and considered what Daniel Jackson would say now. The younger man would probably whisper in his ear that they shouldn't insult their hosts, and Jack knew he'd probably be right - most of the time. But Jack was pissed with this man and wanted him to know it. He'd crossed a line. "My people don't normally eat with torturers and people who rape minds," Jack said acidly. "Sir?" Sam gasped, worried he insulted their hosts and lost them a chance at freedom. "Carter!" he snapped, giving her a killing look. She was about to protest that she was in charge when Stephen spoke, obviously taken aback. "I am uncertain what I can do now to apologise and made amends, Jack O'Neill. Tell me how I can reassure you." Relieved the alien didn't appear to be affronted, Sam said nothing but shot Jack a warning look. He had to think about getting them all home, not his fury at what these people had done. Jack nodded, understanding her concern, but he answered Stephen's question, still not sure what he was looking for. Sam thought he would probably never be satisfied. How could he be after his experience? "You can answer a couple of questions," Jack said and Stephen inclined his head. "Can you read my thoughts now, or theirs?" Jack asked, indicating his companions. "No. Only with the device." Jack was pleased to hear that but was doubtful. "How can I know you speak the truth? How can I trust you?" "I cannot prove this to you, but even you are capable of faith, Jack O'Neill." Jack arched an eyebrow quizzically. "Faith? After what happened? You're kidding right? Besides, I'm a pragmatist, not a dreamer." "Actually, you are a bit of both," Stephen responded knowingly, making Jack cringe inside as he wondered exactly what this man knew about him to say such a thing. "But if you are a pragmatist, then we should go and sit, eat and talk. I am sure I can answer all your questions to your satisfaction. We can get to know each other." Jack considered the alien leader for a while before replying. "I have a solemn promise that you won't hurt my people, or use the device on them?" His tone was dangerous and Stephen knew it. Jack O'Neill would fight to protect his people, and with his last breath if necessary. Stephen had seen this very clearly in his walk through the man's mind and it was a trait he admired and, perhaps, envied. "I have no need," he replied reassuringly. "I know everything I need to know about your people and your world from my walk in your mind. I promise you, Jack O'Neill, on my own life." Jack made a mental note to consider if, after all this time, he still knew any secrets that might threaten Earth. A couple of iris codes and the like could be changed, but this mind reading alien would have learned a lot about Earth's defences and that was a major worry. What had Stephen said about being friends in the future? Great! Time for a peace pipe. Jack wasn't prepared to trust the alien, probably never would be, but he knew that talking was the right thing to do and might be their way off this rock and back home. It beat the alternative, which might end up getting them all killed. Besides, they had to know if these people were likely to use any information found in his mind against Earth. It was the only practical and logical thing to do. He glanced at Sam and she nodded so slightly that if he'd blinked he'd have missed it. Jack decided they should take the chance. Besides, as he kept having to remind himself, Sam was in charge. "Colonel Carter is the leader here, Stephen," he said in an effort to correct the man's misconception of his status. Although if the alien had read his mind he must know this already. "Indeed? My apologies, Colonel Carter, but I do not believe Jack O'Neill is correct in that statement. Perhaps technically correct, but I read him differently, particularly after his earlier protestations that I deal with him and not you. Am I wrong?" "Whoa!" Jack was eager that Sam didn't get the wrong impression. "What the hell did you read in me, Stephen? I'm retired. I teach and you know it." "But you are here, and you are still a warrior at heart and a leader of men. You gave yourself up to be sacrificed on behalf of these others without consideration for your own well-being because you see yourself as a protector and leader. Your title, status and profession are irrelevant. You will always be a leader of men, will you not?" Jack opened his mouth to speak but Sam got in first, grasping the top of his arm to silence him. "I'm not insulted, sir. He's right isn't he?" If it had been anyone else she might have been more annoyed, but Jack had earned deference. She was pissed with him, but for different reasons that had little to do with him usurping her leadership and more to do with Jack deliberately placing himself in harms way, and many of her concerns about that were far more personal. "Do not misunderstand me, Colonel Carter," Stephen added to explain further, "I do not wish to insult you and know that Jack O'Neill would not wish to either. I have walked in his mind and he greatly admires your skills. I have no doubt you are worthy of respect, and are an admirable leader in your own right, but I care nothing for your command structures in your armed forces, or your world. I listened to Jack O'Neill's thoughts and choose to deal with him, even if he is distrustful, guarded and unforgiving." Sam still held Jack's arm and she squeezed gently, causing him to look at her. His eyes sought the permission he didn't venture to request out loud, and hers gave it. "You're right, I am distrustful, guarded and unforgiving. But you're also right about my pragmatism so let's go eat," Jack agreed and walked off alongside Stephen followed by the others. Stephen led them to an area off to one side of the main cavern, where food awaited, laid out on a large table adequate to accommodate all of them. He insisted Jack sit next to him, and Sam sat next to Jack out of habit, although it also meant she could listen in on the conversation and join in, as well as surreptitiously whisper in Jack's ear, if needed. The trainees stuck together at the opposite side of the table, and Smith and Alexander sat watchfully, like two protective bookends, at either end of the table. Cautiously at first, Jack nibbled something that looked like a fruit or vegetable. It not only tasted good, but it didn't seem to have an immediate adverse effect, so he thought 'what the heck?' and took a larger bite, but without any real enthusiasm. His companions followed suit and started to eat a little, but they were all maintaining a watchful and suspicious vigilance in keeping with Jack's demeanour and lead. None of them felt that hungry after the earlier events they'd witnessed, but the aliens expected them to eat so they did it, just not very wholeheartedly. "You said you had news?" Jack queried with Stephen as he ate. "I have spoken to the Council of Ministers back on our home world and they wish us to talk." Jack's immediate thought was to say something sarcastic like, 'I thought that's what we were doing,' but he bit back the retort, asking evenly, "About?" "Becoming allies." "Um, why?" Jack asked sceptically. He wasn't used to the idea of advanced civilisations rushing to be friends with the more primitive Earth, the Asgard being an honorable exception. "As I said, I hope we can be friends in the future. You might not yet be ready." Jack paused slightly, noting the 'future' and 'not yet be ready' elements in Stephen's statement. "And, as I said, why?" Stephen took a bite of some kind of meat, chewing and swallowing before he replied. "You are wary, Jack O'Neill, as a good warrior should be. When I discovered you had the heart and mind of a great warrior I was fearful at first, but as I dug deeper into your thoughts I discovered a good, brave and honest man. A leader of men like me. A killer yes, but with a purpose and a self-imposed code of honor, and a compassionate, gentle and kind man as well. A hero of your people but a hero who now teaches the warriors of tomorrow not of war but of the great literature of your people and thus tries to teach them to be imaginative, thoughtful and compassionate too. I hope they learn their lessons well. There is much to admire in such a man." Stephen peered around at the group of trainees and Thompson kicked Taylor under the table as if to say I told you so. Taylor's face flushed and Sam smiled to herself, thinking maybe he was catching on to that not judging a book by its cover notion she'd thought he'd need drummed into him. Along with the other trainees, she thought she could detect a hint of hero worship in his eyes as he watched Jack. 'Not so old or foolish then?' she thought, mentally rubbing Taylor's nose in his earlier words. She got some childish satisfaction in thinking it even if she might never say it, The trainees were hanging on every word and movement, clearly excited by events now General O'Neill seemed recovered and they believed they were safe from harm. Their first contact with aliens was a first contact for Earth. They were right to be thrilled, despite the earlier horrors - assuming they all made it home. Apart from what had happened with Jack, so far the aliens seemed pretty friendly and Sam was quietly confident. Jack sighed, kind of flattered by Stephen's description of him, but doubtful. "That's your interpretation of me, Stephen, not necessarily me. Besides, not everyone on my planet is like me, thank god," he said. "I'm not so great." "You are wrong about that, Jack O'Neill, but you are a most unique individual I think, although I am sure your planet could benefit from many more men like you." If Jack had been given to blushing his face would have reddened, but as it was he merely looked ill at ease with the compliment. "What I see in you tells me there is great hope for your people in the future and maybe our people will be ready to be friends one day. The Council concur. Therefore, I make this overture of peace and friendship by sharing our food so when that day comes, your people will remember it." "So the time isn't here yet, right?" Jack asked, still determined to ascertain the intentions of these aliens. "No, not yet." Stephen replied honestly and Jack nodded acknowledgement, unsurprised. In fact, the alien's prudence somehow made him feel easier about the situation, slightly less suspicious and more accepting. It was what he had come to expect, but he was still wary. Jack kept wondering what Daniel would have done in this situation. He'd always been the diplomatic one, the talker, the listener, the peacemaker. It was difficult for Jack to put himself in that place, which didn't mean he couldn't learn what he needed to know. But, he still wished Daniel were there with them, just like in the old days. Continued in Part 4 |