Brotherhood (4/27)
Title: Brotherhood ( Table of Contents)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I gain nothing of material value from this.
Pairings: Gen
Chapter1 Chapter2a-- 2b Chapter3 Chapter4
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First Contact
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29 August 1999; Briefing Room, SGC; 1100 hrs
"Thank you," General Hammond said once they'd finished the debriefing about Seth and all the Goa'uld tech goodies they'd collected. "Captain Carter, the sarcophagus will be kept in storage, and I'm leaving you in charge of who has access to it. I shouldn't need to tell any of you that there will be absolutely no human testing done on that device without my express permission."
"Yes, sir," she said. "I'll talk to Dr. Fraiser about setting up a safety protocol for any sort of use. Fortunately, there doesn't seem to be any damage from the explosions in Seth's compound."
"Well done. And Jake," he added, "if the Tok'ra ever have suspicions of a Goa'uld living on Earth again, we expect to know about it."
Jacob shrugged. "Sure thing. As long as you don't keep shelving your records of cults revolving around god-like figures from Egyptian mythology."
"Fair enough," Hammond said. "Hold it--everyone except Jacob stay for a minute. Jake, thanks for your help." Jacob looked around, shrugged, then left good-naturedly to hang out in the control room. "Mr. Jackson, can you tell me which are the SG teams that still need cultural specialists?"
Jack raised his eyebrows. He saw Daniel do the same. "What?" Daniel said.
"You heard me, son."
Daniel tilted his head in thought and said, "Well, it's...it depends. We usually split people into two groups: those who specialize in certain cultures or languages, for specific second-line work, and those good at making initial assessments for a broad range of cultures and languages."
"The latter, then. Just give me a list," the general ordered.
"Then...SG-2...7, 10...and 13 and 15 once they get some experience. And maybe SG-1. Not that your record isn't good already," he added quickly to Jack, "and obviously you have Teal'c. I just think it might help for the flagship team to have a wider range of knowledge about human cultures, but... Is that...General, I'm not sure exactly what you're asking for."
"That's all right," Hammond told him. "You named quite a few teams there."
"Not as many as I would have even a few months ago, sir, since we've been emphasizing that aspect more, but I think it would be a good idea for each team to--"
"I understand. Are there people in the social science department willing and qualified to act as attachés?"
Adjusting his glasses, Daniel said, "Well, of the civilians, Robert Rothman, Jim Frakes, and I have all had physical training and experience, to different degrees. A few others would like to get training. There are...um...three military members in the department not attached to teams who are qualified and could probably be cleared to join one, at least temporarily." He scratched his head. "Sir, is that what you were asking, or...?"
General Hammond nodded. "That's fine. I appreciate your input, and I'll take those into consideration. Now, we didn't get a chance to discuss the latest recruits. We have the video of the testing, but if you have anything specific to add about the two lieutenants' performance...?"
"Nothing you didn't see, probably," Daniel said, relaxing a little. This was a routine they were familiar with from previous rounds of testing--although they all discussed the applicants during the test, a view from the inside never hurt. "Astor's quick. Not afraid to take the lead when needed, studies beyond what she's asked to know. Curious, friendly. A little blunt for someone on a diplomatic team, if you don't mind my saying, sir, but SG-14 will help her make that an asset instead of a problem. Barber...is very focused. Great when he's given a task. I wouldn't give him a command yet--he's a little indecisive--but he could grow out of that with time. Even now, I'd follow him in a pinch."
He could grow out of that. Jack exchanged an amused look with Carter but refrained from making a crack about other personnel who hadn't even grown into their own teenaged limbs yet, mostly because the assessment wasn't wrong.
"Good," Hammond said, and he looked like he agreed. "Now, Dr. Rothman has returned for a few days and would like to go over more specific observations on Lieutenant Astor's linguistic proficiency, Mr. Jackson. Go on up."
"Um...yes, sir," Daniel said, glancing at the rest of them with a confused look on his face before he walked out of the briefing room, leaving Jack and his team with General Hammond.
"What was that all about, sir?" Jack said once he was gone.
"I'll explain," General Hammond said. "In the past, civilians have been restricted mainly to second-line work, as well as a few exploration missions that were expected to be relatively safe. But there are a few who would like positions on first-contact teams, too."
"Right," Jack said, thinking he knew who one of those civilians was.
"In other words, Colonel, they'd like to extend their participation from research and diplomacy to include standard reconnaissance missions as well. As Mr. Jackson alluded to, a few of the civilian scientists have been doing some physical training on base. I'm considering assigning those people to experienced exploration teams in order to receive more practical training."
"And you want SG-1 to take one of them, sir?" Jack said, already cringing internally. It wasn't that he had anything against scientists--well, okay, yes, he kind of did. But mostly it was that he, Carter, and Teal'c knew each other so well by now. He hated having that interrupted by another person.
General Hammond nodded. "In fact, SG-1 was originally assigned a fourth member--a translator. The three of you are resourceful, and I haven't found it necessary to push you to find a permanent fourth member. But it would be appropriate on our flagship team--I'd even say that it's high time you found a cultural specialist or a translator to join you."
Jack caught Carter's neutral expression and Teal'c's blank one. "We really like that extra space in our locker room, sir," he hedged.
"What if I said that you'll find one or I'll find one for you?"
"General, we don't always get along with science attachés."
"So I've heard," the general said with a hint of rebuke. "What if I suggested someone I think you already do get along with--someone with whom you work well, despite all expectation?"
Jack mulled that over, then said--"Are you asking if I'd take Daniel on as part of SG-1?"
"You've already done so in the past," Hammond said.
"I mean on purpose, sir. Regularly."
Hammond folded his hands on the table. "He knows this Mountain and our operations inside and out. Some people here think he's being groomed for the position, what with his record and his relationship with your team. Considering his past performance--including his role in assassinating Seth the day before yesterday, Colonel--and considering we declared him an adult over a year ago...would you do it?"
Jack looked at his team, who were being unusually unhelpful. He knew on some level that this meant they weren't totally opposed, but it also meant they weren't ecstatically in favor. "About Seth," he started as he tried to think it through, "Daniel was the backup plan, sir--as in the last chance, or I would never have put him in that position."
"But it suggests that you, as one of the people training Mr. Jackson, think he's ready for more than second-line research--as a matter of fact, he is, as strange as it seems, the most experienced of our civilians in the field. The biggest difference between what I'm suggesting and what he's been doing in past months is that he'll be with you most of the time and not some other team."
Teal'c spoke up abruptly, "Daniel Jackson has much to learn about being a warrior; however, I believe he is prepared to join warriors without hindering them."
"He did impress Jacob and Selmak," Jack conceded, reflecting that there was a good reason Daniel knew most of the teams' situations well--aside from acting as Rothman's de facto deputy, he'd joined a lot of teams in the field before. Jack wasn't sure he was more comfortable with that than with the idea of having Daniel under his own team's eye, if this idea of civilian training was really going to go through.
"He's as qualified as Dr. Rothman," Carter offered. "Not in archaeology, I'm sure, but he speaks as many or more relevant languages, and he's quicker to improvise when plans get derailed. His training keeps him in good enough shape. Physically, intellectually, he won't hold us back."
"And emotionally?" Hammond asked. "I don't just mean maturity in his decisions; I'm also talking about psychological repercussions from difficult missions."
Wasn't that the rub. "If we keep him around at all," Jack said, "he won't avoid repercussions."
"You're saying he should be kept out of SGC business completely now?" Hammond asked.
"I believe O'Neill means that we can either keep Daniel Jackson away entirely, or allow him to help and arm him," Teal'c said.
"That's not...exactly what I said," Jack said. "But you have to admit, sir, a lot of his more traumatic experiences have happened right here on Earth. If he doesn't get an assignment soon, he'll just go on shipping out with whichever team has an opening."
"For research missions, mostly," Carter pointed out.
"The first two teams who were killed in their entirety were the research teams of SG-7 and SG-11, Captain Carter," Teal'c pointed out. "And yet we have not stopped Daniel Jackson and civilians with far less training from joining research missions."
"Do you think he can do it, Colonel?" Hammond said.
For perhaps the first time, Jack swallowed the reflexive 'No' and considered it.
Daniel might not know as many facts as people like Rothman, but if they found a world where they needed someone with lots of spare information stuffed in his head, they called the research teams in for follow-up. Daniel's spotty but eclectic education and his intuition were, frankly, something an exploration team could use.
For a moment, Jack considered pointing out that the fraternization regs would have something to say about sharing living quarters with someone in the same chain of command, as Daniel still lived with Jack about as often as he stayed on base, but if he said that, it would only invite questions about how objective the rest of them were about each other, too. Jack knew that Daniel used to go to Teal'c's room in the middle of the night to calm himself down when he had a nightmare, and, more than once, Jack and Carter had babysat Cassandra Frasier together.
Then again, it wasn't as if Jack had anything against knowing Carter and Teal'c better than the back of his own hand, and the point was, Daniel knew them just as well. He trained and studied with Teal'c, he lived with Jack, he poked at Goa'uld artifacts with Carter, and he'd risked his life together with the entire team more than once. If they were going to have a social scientist forced on them, it might as well be someone they knew and liked, and they'd be able to protect him at the same time. SG-1 could protect Daniel better than almost anyone else.
"I'd be willing to try it," Jack finally said. "With certain conditions."
"I am in agreement," Teal'c said.
Carter hesitated but said, "I think he can do it, sir."
The general nodded. "SG-1 has been participating in a mixture of exploration and combat-support missions, and I want to keep Mr. Jackson away from the latter for obvious reasons. I'm willing to assign him to your team for most missions except those known beforehand to be out of his skill range. That will leave him time during which he would be free to help with Dr. Rothman's other duties, since Dr. Rothman is also more frequently off-world these days with SG-11."
"Ye-es, sir," Jack said slowly. "Okay."
"I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea myself, Colonel," the general said, as if sensing his hesitation, "so tell me now if you think it's the wrong decision."
Jack shook his head, reminding himself that SG-1 had more experience than any other team. "No. We'll take him, sir. At least for a period of time--"
"Like a training run, sir," Carter suggested. "He can pick up more experience in first-contact with us without facing the full range of dangers, and we'll reevaluate after a few missions to see if it's a bad idea. Or if it seems like it would work better, he can always transfer to a research or diplomatic team."
They used Daniel in training scenarios on base because his age made him look almost harmless, and they'd used him--more than once, now--to infiltrate an enemy Goa'uld in practice, too, for the same reason. Daniel's nature might be best suited for being a researcher, but his training and field experience was geared toward covert operations and combat as much as anything, inadvertently or not. An uncomfortable voice in Jack's head pointed out that children had been used that way in war all throughout history and that US and international law on Earth looked down on such practices, to say the least.
Still. That didn't change anything. If Daniel was being called an adult now, nothing would stop him from worming his way onto a team. If he ended up going down a path with as many guns as books, well, then Jack would make sure he had the training for it.
Finally, General Hammond said, "Remember--if he's on SG-1, he will be there as your teammate, not just your student or your little brother. I expect you to defend him out there, but if he proves a danger to you or himself or an impediment to your missions, he's off the roster."
"Yes, sir," Jack said.
"He'll have probationary status for four weeks," Hammond said. "After that, he will be held to the same standards as any SG team member. This includes the psychiatric and psychological evaluations that we all seem to have forgotten about, since he wasn't hired by the normal route."
"Oy," Jack said. "Are we gonna start worrying about his psychological fitness now?"
"Yes," Hammond said bluntly. "We should be more worried than ever about it starting now. He's seen a few battles, Colonel; he hasn't seen it all. Until he's of age by our laws to be deployed in combat, if I'm concerned about his mental state at any time, I will ground him--for his own wellbeing--and he will speak with a counselor if I believe he needs it."
Jack grimaced--he hated psych evaluations in general--but it was probably wise. "Yes, sir."
"I understand Jacob will be staying for a few days with Captain Carter on family business," said the general, "and SG-1 could use a little downtime. If you'd like to train on Earth with Mr. Jackson, I'd suggest you take this time to do that. Dismissed."
...x...
29 August 1999; Archaeology Office, SGC; 1300 hrs
"Let me get this straight," Rothman said. "Daniel's getting first-line exploration approval?"
"Unless he screws up sometime soon," Jack said. Daniel raised his eyebrows indignantly.
"So that means," Rothman said, "that I ship out with SG-11 and Daniel ships out with SG-1, and when we're free and some other team needs a translator, I get to stay on base and make Daniel join them and do the grunt work. Which is nice, but..."
"Grunt work?" Daniel repeated. "What's wrong with going into the field once in a while?"
"I don't often get shot at when I go into the field," Rothman said. "I bring back video footage and...and pottery shards."
"I've done that, too," Daniel said defensively. "And it's not like I don't shoot back if I need to."
Rothman turned a look onto Jack. "Seriously, Colonel?"
"Robert..." Daniel started.
"You think I don't take the safety of my men seriously, Doctor?" Jack retorted. "Daniel's been trained, he's gonna get more training, and you can't name three people on this base more willing to die to keep him safe."
"Jack!" Daniel said.
"Not now, Daniel," Jack said.
"I beg your pardon?" he said. "This is about me! I've been doing fieldwork for over a year. In fact, Robert, so have you."
"You know the difference between exploration and first-line research?" Rothman said to Daniel.
"It's a...it's just a formal, categorical... It's a fine line, and people cross it all the time--I've crossed it, and so have you," Daniel said, both of them ignoring Jack now.
"Research teams pick their planets first during the planning meeting," Rothman said. "Exploration teams get the weird ones that someone needs to check out but the research teams don't want to touch. And when there's danger, on my team, the people come first. On their team"--he waved vaguely in Jack's direction--"the mission comes first."
Daniel went still. "Earth still exists because SG-1 knows to put the mission first," he said. "I'm here on this planet for the purpose of the mission, Robert. I joined the SGC to find my family, and I can't do that by only taking assignments that look less dangerous. Do you honestly think I don't know by now what the risks are?"
Rothman looked up at where Jack was standing, and Jack said, "We have Captain Carter, too, which means we do take research missions, and with Daniel, we might be taking more of those. But you're right, Doctor--for us, sometimes the mission has to come first. If it makes you feel better, Daniel's life comes before ours--"
Daniel whipped around to face him. "Jack--"
"Don't argue," Jack said. "Remember that if you ever feel the urge to run into danger. You're a translator first, not a soldier. Anyway," he added to Rothman, "SG-1 has a former First Prime and two highly-trained military officers--we get called in for combat support a lot. Daniel will stay on base for those. It's not that much different from what he's done in the past."
"Think of it this way," Daniel said to Rothman. "Before, I could only take missions that looked safe. And now, I can take missions that are uncertain, but I still can't take on that look unsafe. Right?" He waited for Jack to nod. "And, honestly, the uncertain missions are the ones where I'd be most useful."
Rothman looked at Daniel but spoke to Jack. "If I want him doing something for my department, I have a say."
"Joint custody it is," Jack said.
"What about...I haven't been able to go to the range with you for weeks," Daniel said. "Since all the sarcophagus business started. You haven't told me the marksmanship requirements."
"SG-1 has the next four weeks to work with you," Jack told him. "You'll take your quals after that. If you pass, you'll be approved for general exploration with SG-1, and you can still be assigned to other teams that are missing a translator if you don't have a mission with us. Also, you're restricted to a maximum number of missions in any given month." Daniel frowned, but Jack said firmly, "It's within a reasonable schedule; it just means you can't get overloaded with work and we can make you stop and take a break if we want. You can complain when you're eighteen."
"So...the two of us do the same things, basically," Rothman said, "but I take more of the in-depth research, and Daniel takes more of the initial contact and assessment."
"Okay, great," Daniel said quickly, as if someone might change his mind if he waited too long.
"Good," Jack said briskly. "Then, starting tomorrow, you're under my command. We've got some work to do."
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30 August 1999; Indoor Shooting Range, SGC; 0730 hrs
At this hour, no one else was at the range, except the range safety officer, which was just fine. Jack had brought Daniel here before to practice until he knew the commands and the rules of safety inside out and backwards and could hold and stand and shoot with some reasonable degree of accuracy, but having time to themselves for practice was good.
"You're gonna have to qualify on both of these," Jack told Daniel, pointing first at the electric zat target Carter had rigged as they passed the range designed for energy weapons, and then at the lane with standard paper targets. "Practice with the zat sometime later. For pistol, you need to get forty-two out of forty-five shots on the target from twenty-five yards."
"Anywhere on the target?" Daniel asked, fastening the holster on his leg.
"Anywhere inside the silhouette. You can only miss three in forty-five, your score will be on record, and you'll have to re-qualify in a year. If you stick with a team long enough, I will bump up the accuracy and time requirements." If Jack was going to take him out into the field regularly, he'd damn well better not be completely helpless.
Daniel nodded, assessing the silhouette at the end of the range. "What about zat'nik'tel?"
"Twenty shots on the target. No more than one miss."
"This isn't very realistic," Daniel commented, still looking at the paper target. "I've almost never had to shoot at someone who wasn't moving, especially without being under any pressure."
Which reminded Jack that Daniel had, in fact, shot and been shot at before. "That's why you can't miss more than a few times. You have twenty seconds for each string of five rounds. If you ask me, that's too generous. If you can't hit a stationary target when you've got time to aim, you don't have much of a chance at a moving one when it's shooting back," he said.
"How many rounds this time?" Daniel asked. "This is just practice, right?"
"Go for fifteen. Finish one magazine and we'll go from there. Don't worry about timing for now. Sight's adjusted? Ears on. Load--ready."
Daniel slipped on the ear protectors and adjusted his glasses. He picked up the M9 Jack had left on the counter, checked the chamber automatically even though it was already cleared, slid in a full magazine, and racked the slide as he took aim.
Jack slipped on his own protectors and ordered loudly, "Commence fire." The first shot rang out.
Too high. It took another two shots to land one into the silhouette, though the rest made it in. Jack counted fifteen shots and watched to make sure the gun was still raised and in position, waiting for the command, before ordering, "Holster." Once the safety was on and the pistol in its place on Daniel's leg, Jack brought the target back.
Thirteen holes somewhere in the target's body and two outside.
"Not good enough," Daniel admitted, poking a finger at the hole farthest off before he pulled off his ear protectors.
"It's not terrible," Jack said, looking at a small cluster of five holes very near the center. "It only took you, what, five, six shots to remember how the trigger works? You're still pulling it at an angle the first few times before you adjust properly and aim."
"Jack--" Daniel started.
"Don't start, Daniel," Jack snapped, surprising him into silence. "You don't always get a second chance. If a Jaffa in armor walks toward you, even if you hit him on the first try, your bullet might not penetrate. Even if it does, he might still be strong enough to shoot back if you didn't hit something important. Every shot has to count, understood?"
Daniel's eyebrows were drawn low and his expression wary. "Yes, sir," he said stiffly.
"This isn't good enough," Jack said, waggling the paper at him in challenge.
"I know that," Daniel said. "Can I practice on my own, too?"
"Only if Teal'c or an officer's with you, for now. All right, this time, don't be in such a hurry to get your next shot off. Make sure you've recovered from the recoil first and then line up the next one. Pay attention to your trigger finger and your balance. Reload and fire when ready."
Halfway through peppering the second target with holes, Jack called, "Cease fire. Tactical reload. Ready." Daniel's left hand hovered near his pocket where he held ammunition. "Go."
They went on practicing reloads interspersed with malfunction clearances and plain shooting holes in the targets until SG-5, the new research team, walked in together. Jack checked his watch, decided it was enough for the moment, and ordered, "Cease fire."
"Cease fire," Daniel repeated, clearing the gun and showing it to Jack for approval.
Once Jack was convinced nothing was about to go off or fall out, he said, "I want you here with me first thing in the morning to practice every day unless we're not on base, until you pass your quals. If you want more time outside of that, I won't complain. Let's go get that cleaned out."
As soon as they were in the cleaning area, Daniel visibly relaxed. Jack did, too--he was still more comfortable watching Daniel field strip a gun than watching him shoot it. By now, Daniel's fingers were thorough and steady as he cleaned and inspected each part before putting it back together. It helped that these weapons were well-maintained anyway, and an hour or two of shooting didn't gum things up much.
"Teal'c says I should learn to use a knife," Daniel said when they walked out together, as both a statement and a question, "because of things like the Goa'uld personal shield."
Jack grimaced. "I'd rather you didn't get close enough to a Goa'uld to stab him with a knife. But it's useful otherwise, too, especially if you've lost your gun and your zat for some reason--humans are as vulnerable to knives as Goa'uld and Jaffa are."
"But if we're facing humans, it's better to try to convince them to stop attacking us before we start stabbing at them, right?"
Jack returned the Beretta to the armory and turned back toward the elevator. "If you're in a situation where you've lost your other weapons, they're probably not very open to discussion."
"Well, I'm sure sometimes you're attacked before you have time to figure out enough of the local dialect to say, 'Please don't shoot us,'" Daniel said, "so they might be open to discussion if we figure it out afterward and tell them we're not enemies."
"If they're shooting at you, I'd rather you focused on not getting shot. And if you don't know the language, chances are, no one on the team will."
When there was no answer, he looked over just in time to see Daniel close his mouth and frown.
"What?" Jack asked. "If you're on my team, you don't hide anything from me."
"I'm not hiding anything," Daniel protested, turning to face him.
"Then spit it out."
"It's just...it takes a while to learn a new language, Jack."
"We don't have time to learn a new language every time we go through the 'gate," Jack reminded him, "especially if people start shooting at us."
"Well...okay," he said, "but...you have those sheets, right?"
"You mean the booklets you and Rothman make everyone carry?" Jack said. "Yeah. Carter's got the respectful greetings in most major languages memorized, but if it's not Goa'uld, Egyptian, English, or someone who speaks a combination of the above, 'hello, we're peaceful travelers' only gets you so far in a conversation."
Daniel had his arms folded, but he looked curious rather than annoyed. "SG-1's handled more negotiations without second-line diplomatic teams than any other frontline team. And I know not all of those planets speak Egyptian, Goa'uld, or English."
"That's why we're SG-1," Jack said. "We're resourceful. Maybe we don't do it your way, but..." He paused. "What do you do when you go off-world, learn new languages from scratch?"
"Not...from scratch, exactly," Daniel said, which Jack took as a 'yes, pretty much.' "But in the past, if I went off-world and there were people there, it was usually for some sort of follow-up diplomatic trip, so the whole point was to be able to speak with the local people."
"I know you haven't been only to planets where people speak languages you know," Jack said, leading the way off the elevator on Level 25.
"I'm familiar with a lot of languages that are the ancestors or...or sister languages of what people speak off-world, which means I can often work it out. It's like...a dialect you can't understand, but if you work at it enough, you start to piece it together. But it takes time to learn enough of the nuances of the local dialect to be able to communicate to any meaningful degree. So--"
"Wait," Jack said, opening the door to the locker room. "Get in here."
Daniel scrunched his eyebrows together. "Why?"
"Because we're arguing about translation in the middle of the hallway," Jack said in exasperation, gesturing inside again and wondering if he'd have to explain every order from now on. "Let's go."
"So I was wondering," Daniel said as he walked in, found a relatively clear area, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, "if we could spend a little time at the beginning of each mission to make things more efficient."
"More efficient except for that extra time in the beginning. We can't take a few extra days to pick up a new language every time. That's what second-line teams are for."
"I'm not asking for days," Daniel scoffed. "A few hours, maybe."
Jack scoffed back at him, "You're telling me it takes you a few hours to learn alien dialects."
Defensively, Daniel said, "A year and a half ago, I went to P3C-117 with SG-7--ask them how long it took me there."
As it happened, Captain Lithell--SG-5 now but formerly a member of SG-7--walked past them on the way to the showers and said, "I still say that one was lucky, Daniel."
"Wait, how long?" Jack asked him, because now he was curious.
"He was having a conversation within an hour, sir," Lithell said. Jack's eyebrows flew up. "Like I said, lucky--apparently, it was really close to Latin, closer than we usually see. On the other hand, it took Rothman a lot longer to get that far, and I wouldn't've had a chance. Even if I'd figured out it was Latin, I would've needed time and a notebook to get to anything usable."
Daniel raised a hand as if to say 'see?' "I've never gotten another unfamiliar language that fast," he admitted, "so it was lucky, but Jack, new language decipherment is my specialty. I'm not saying I'd be anywhere near fluent with just a few hours, but I'd be able to say things like 'please don't kill us.'"
Jack gave him a suspicious look, nodding to Lithell as he left. "Really?"
"Yes," he said, deadpan. "'Don't' and 'kill' are usually among the first words I try to learn, followed by 'please.'"
Smartass. "I mean, do you really think it would make a difference. You can really pick out a new language each time we go through the 'gate?"
"Not each time," Daniel admitted. "I don't speak every language that used to be spoken on Earth, and sometimes things have just changed too much. But!" he added, raising a finger when Jack began to speak. "But. I can do it, sometimes, at least well enough for minimal basic communication, which, I think, is worth some extra hours, if it can reduce misunderstandings. Jack, someone could offer you a ton of naquadah and you'd never know if you can't talk to them."
Not likely to happen, but Jack got the point. It might be worth a shot. "When we go through, if we meet peaceful people speaking an unfamiliar language, I'll give you two hours while Carter checks out the soil and whatnot," Jack allowed. Daniel gave him an incredulous look. "If you're making progress by then, I'll give you more time. If you're stuck, we move on, and if I say to move, you move and don't complain. Got it?"
Daniel's eyes narrowed, but he said, "Got it. Sir."
Jack wondered exactly how much more difficult this was going to be than he'd thought and said, "We're going for a run. Wash the lead off your hands and get changed."
...x...
30 August 1999; Cheyenne Mountain; 1030 hrs
"You know what just occurred to me?" Daniel asked as they jogged up the public paths.
"I should've made you run carrying rocks like Teal'c does?" Jack said, noting that Daniel was starting to breathe harder but didn't look particularly tired yet, not if he was still chatting.
"No, thank you very much," Daniel said fervently.
Jack smirked. "Okay. So what just occurred to you?"
"It takes almost an hour to get into the mountain."
"It doesn't take an hour. You're just impatient," Jack countered. "Watch your step here."
Daniel's foot fell into the shallow ditch despite the warning, but he caught his balance and his breath and continued speaking with the air of someone who hadn't noticed anything at all. "What I mean is that we live underground."
"We don't live underground. You live underground. I live in a house. Occasionally, you do, too."
He stopped and raised a fist. Daniel froze, crouching slightly and turning. "What?" he whispered.
"Nothing," Jack said, straightening and starting again. "Just wanted to see if you'd stop. And if I call for a halt, you wait for instruction before opening your mouth."
Daniel huffed but caught up easily after a brief pause. "Fine," he said, swiveling back to their previous conversation. "We work underground."
"You know, I did notice that," Jack said. "What's your point?"
"That doesn't seem strange to you?"
"Not really." Strange was relative. Being underground didn't even make the list anymore.
"Oh." They snaked around three people jogging in the opposite direction. Jack thought the conversation was over until Daniel went on, "It's just that I used to think the...Jacob's people must be extraordinarily paranoid, since they live in--"
"Daniel," Jack warned.
"Considering where and how they live," Daniel amended. "But we work in underground tunnels. Some of us even live in them."
"They're not tunnels."
"Yes they are."
"Daniel, those are called hallways. Corridors."
"Underground corridors," Daniel pointed out, "which makes them big tunnels in the ground that just happen to be lined with concrete."
"Tunnels...with elevators?" Jack said.
"I like to think of them as vertical escape shafts," Daniel said.
Jack rolled his eyes. "What's your point?"
Daniel shrugged as well as he could while running. "I didn't have one. It just occurred to me as strange, that's all. And I was thinking."
Restraining the impulse either to laugh or to yell shut up and run, Jack said, "What else is new."
This time, there was a longer pause, and he wondered if his exasperation might have leaked out too much in his tone. Instead, however, Daniel turned to look at him, "You know what people say about your team. You're a...an unconventional group of people already."
Automatically--because he had heard that much too often from too many people--Jack said sharply, "We're the flagship team. That means we're the representatives to everyone else, and we're damn good at our job. I don't need to justify--"
"Jack!" Daniel sped up enough to overtake him, turn, and glare full-on, running backwards. "Come on! You really think I'm going to say a word against you or Sam or Teal'c? I understand perfectly well why diversity of...of everything is important for your team. I'm just saying that everyone wants to be on Unit 1, and if you take me, of all people, even if it is just for a training period...they're going to talk louder."
Jack caught his arm and pulled him back before he stepped on a branch. "You keep tripping over stuff, you bet they're gonna talk."
"I'm serious."
"Listen to me, Daniel," Jack said. "You're two years from our age of majority. Sending you into combat is a couple years short of a war crime, by our standards."
"A couple years short, which means it's not," Daniel pointed out. "Besides, I have my elder's approval, and I'm not going into combat."
"But you're not expecting to avoid it completely. You join us, even just for standard rec--"
"I know that," Daniel said testily. "I'm the one who waits outside the infirmary for Janet to come out and say that my friends are going to be okay. I understand the risk you all take. I wish you'd trust that I understand the risk I'm asking to take, too."
Jack shook his head. "Lots of us trust you. I'm one of 'em, so are Carter, Teal'c, and the general. Not everyone's like that. Some people are only going to notice every time you screw up."
"I've proven myself," Daniel said stiffly.
"And you'll have to do it again and again, until people think you're the real deal or stop giving you crap. Stay with the program for another five or ten years, and you'll still be one of the youngest people around. That's the way it is." Jack tagged a post and turned around to start jogging back down.
Daniel ran silently beside him for a while. "Like women," he said after a minute.
Jack turned to stare at him. "What?"
"Sam says that, as a woman, it doesn't matter how many times she published important research, or how many times she proves that she can fight as well as anyone. To some people, she still has to prove herself each time. And Teal'c is...different from other people, too. Someone will always be suspicious of him, even if they don't say it. If they can take it, so can I."
Don't forget the formerly-retired colonel, Jack thought, but only said, "I'm never going to let you forget that you just compared yourself to a woman and a ninety-year-old man." He cuffed Daniel lightly on the back of the head and took off back down the Mountain.
"Ow," Daniel complained pointedly, bumping him on the arm as they raced down.
Daniel won by a little--he was sixteen, a product of Teal'c's training, and not bothered by age or injury--but both of them were well out of breath by the time they finished their sprint and walked toward the entrance. "Okay," Jack panted, "so you can run, at least." Daniel held up his finger and gulped for oxygen, leaning on his knees. Jack stopped to wait for him. "You should work on the breathing thing, though. It's kind of necessary for talking, linguist."
"Nice," Daniel finally gasped back. "When Sam gets back, can I train with her instead?"
"Oh, you think I'm harsh? You haven't seen Carter's idea of a workout."
"No, it's not that," Daniel told him, still panting. "But with her, I won't have to worry about making an old man tired."
Jack gaped at him. Daniel grinned back cheekily and made his way toward the first checkpoint. "You want to spar with this old man?" Jack called at him as he followed.
XXXXX
2 September 1999; Archaeology Office, SGC; 1600 hrs
"He was banished by the System Lords," Teal'c's voice said.
"Like Sokar was?" Daniel's voice answered.
Jack frowned and peeked inside. When he'd told Teal'c to take the next few days for training with Daniel, sitting together on the floor of the archaeology office Saturday afternoon was not what he'd expected. Daniel looked like he was even taking notes, the geek.
"No," Teal'c said. "Sokar was defeated because the other System Lords desired his power. Anubis, however, was exiled for unspeakable crimes."
"What crimes are unspeakable even for the Goa'uld?" Daniel asked.
Teal'c raised an eyebrow at him. "I do not know. They were unspoken."
"Oh," Daniel said.
Jack escaped as quickly as he could.
XXXXX
9 September 1999; Level 21 Corridor, SGC; 0900 hrs
"I still don't understand," Daniel said.
"What, you didn't have shrinks on Abydos?" Jack joked.
Daniel gave him a look.
"Daniel..."
"Jack, I don't understand! What's the point of all this? Do you know what they made me do on the test yesterday?"
"I've taken all their tests, too, a lot more times than you, so--"
"It was stupid!" Daniel said, gesturing sharply in the air, taking on an affronted tone. "About...how I'd respond to certain situations, which is ridiculous, since an entire situation cannot be encapsulated in the two sentences of each question, and if I ask for clarification, it's being argumentative? It's ridiculous! This is the highest level of Tau'ri psychology?"
"Psychiatry," Jack said, because the psychiatrists gave that test.
"I know," Daniel said, "but it's all about psychology, isn't it?"
"S...sorta," Jack said, not completely sure if Daniel was being philosophical about the two fields or making a point or actually didn't know the difference. He was fairly certain Abydos didn't have a science that really corresponded to psychiatry. Having been forced to talk to more psychiatrists and psychologists than he liked to count, Jack was pretty clear on the differences himself.
"I'm just saying," Daniel said, "is this really necessary?"
Jack forced himself not to make psychiatry look worse than he privately thought of it. "Look. Some of those were personality tests. They want to make sure you're not insane or...likely to go insane or endanger--yeah," he added when Daniel rolled his eyes, "a little late, but you slipped through the cracks at first. If you want to be serious about this, then we have to do it right."
"But you can't tell a person's personality from a test, and the interpretation will naturally be influenced by the scorer's cultural biases, and, and, which--the...come on, Jack! How is--"
"Which is why," Jack said patiently, "you get several more sessions with several more tests looked at in several different ways."
"That's still a poor way to determine anything about--"
"And," Jack added, "you get to talk to someone one-on-one in a few days, so he can get a better picture. For your first evaluation, Dr. Mackenzie will talk to you himself, and he'll probably ask you...just about everything about everything, but by now, it's practically just a formality. They'll give me and General Hammond reports and recommendations and all that stuff, but the general gets final say, and he knows you. As long as you don't do something crazy, you'll be fine."
But now Daniel was looking very creeped out and moving toward nervous. "So someone is going to try to make me talk about...everything, and then tell you and General Hammond all about it? Even though there's no way he could possibly interpret my thoughts exactly? Jack, this is ridiculous."
"Medical privacy rules apply, which you know perfectly well. They can't just tell your CO what you say unless you say you're going to compromise our safety or security."
"Well, my CO is also my legal next of kin, which makes it a bit of a blurry boundary!"
And Carter and Teal'c, along with Rothman, were also listed as family members the doctors could talk to about Daniel's health, Jack knew. They were getting away with it because he was an alien who needed someone's name on his forms, legally--and because Hammond had a good eye for which teams worked best with professional distance and which ran more smoothly with close friendships--but it was a good point. Jack wouldn't bare his soul to a shrink if he was worried about what might get back to his boss, medical discretion or no.
"Yeah, keep reminding them of that and they'll slap us both with fraternization regs," Jack said, not answering the question because he knew this was all an overreaction to a simple, harmless trip to the doctor. He wondered if it would damage one of their psychological profiles if he picked Daniel up and threw him bodily in the direction of the nearest psychiatrist. Probably. It might damage Jack's back, too, so he nixed the idea. "It's not gonna hurt."
"It's like a Goa'uld!" Daniel insisted. "Trying to get into a person's mind. I've been reading about psychiatrists. They're authorized to use chemical substances to influence behavior, and how is that any different from a symbiote, except less efficient?"
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding...me..." Jack paused as a realization struck him. "Are you scared of the shrinks?"
"No," Daniel snapped, reddening a little. "I'm...insulted. I think this is stupid. I'm...Jack."
"No, you're Daniel."
"Jack!"
"Daniel," Jack said. "It'll be fine. How bad could it be? You've faced down Goa'uld--"
"No, I haven't," Daniel said stubbornly, folding his arms. "I've met several Goa'uld. I'm not sure it would be accurate to say I've faced any of them down."
"For cryin' out loud, just take the damn tests! No one's going to drug you into submission. It's a few hours out of your life, spread over a few days, and it's not like you have anything to hide--"
"Oh, of course not," Daniel said, "except my brain. Who says I should make my thoughts available for people to discuss and...and decide if they're right or wrong?"
"The US government," Jack said, then gripped him around the shoulders and pushed him toward the area of the infirmary where mental health reigned. "Just shut up and go."
Daniel did his best impression of annoyed teenager with a stick up his butt as he walked in.
XXXXX
13 September 1999; SG-1 Locker Room, SGC; 0815 hrs
"We have a planning briefing this afternoon," Daniel said, poking his head into the locker room.
Jack looked up from adjusting his sleeve. "After your appointment with Mackenzie."
Daniel wrinkled his nose but nodded. "And we're leaving tomorrow morning for PY3-948."
"Yes, Daniel."
"So starting tomorrow, I'm officially on SG-1?"
Jack held up a hand. "Only if it's not explicitly a military thing. And you have marksmanship scores to put up in a week. You're still on probation."
He looked surprised. "Really? Probation? For what? How come I didn't know that?"
"Not punishment probation. Just...think of this as your first trial run. Sort of," Jack amended, since it really wasn't the first anything, except the first one when Daniel would go with them and be expected to go with them again the next time.
"Oh. Okay. Um, actually, I...had a question."
"What?"
"I heard about Sam's promotion," Daniel said, "and that the Secretary of Defense was coming this morning during the ceremony. Something about, uh, Seth and Hathor and the other Goa'uld who have been either killed or kind-of defeated."
"That's not a question," Jack told him.
"It's just..." Daniel shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "You're wearing your dress blues."
"That's still not a--"
"I know all SGC personnel are allowed to be there. Most of the officers get promoted somewhere off-base, and I've never tried to go to the promotions that were on base, but since it's Sam, I...wanted to be there to see her."
"If you're asking if you can go, you can," Jack said, and reminded him, "You've managed to be involved somehow in every major snaky butt we've kicked so far, anyway."
"That's not what I'm asking, exactly," Daniel said, fidgeting in the doorway. "I don't know what formal clothing is for civilians, or if I have formal clothing. I was going to ask Robert, because he's a civilian, too, but SG-11 went back off-world on Friday, and I didn't hear about this until yesterday, and you weren't here yesterday, and it felt strange asking Sam, and Teal'c might not have known, either, so..." He stuck his hands into his pockets. "So. Um."
Huh. They'd never had an occasion before when Daniel needed formal clothes, but this didn't require a fancy suit and tie, and Jack was pretty sure he and Teal'c both had at least something among their civvies that were decent enough for this. He looked at his watch. "Sure. We've got some time--I'll help you."
Daniel nodded, looking relieved, and led the way to his quarters. "Thank you."
Jack rummaged through Daniel's small stack of rarely-worn clothes that weren't navy or olive drab and tossed something appropriate onto the bed. "Here. I should go see how Teal'c's doing," he said, heading out of the room. "Just go to the 'gate room when you're done."
...x...
The problem with being the flagship team was that SG-1 was supposed to be polite to people, even people on Earth.
Jack had no problem with this on principle, but it included dull duties like standing two feet away on the ramp while General Hammond introduced Arthur Simms, the Secretary of Defense, and looking alert while Simms talked at length about how cool they all were.
Simms was very...well, optimistic, but this was a congratulatory occasion, after all, and there was nothing wrong with a little morale-rallying once in a while. Most importantly, Simms was a supporter of the SGC, so Jack stood still and tuned out the parts that were uninteresting until General Hammond took his place at the podium again.
"Before we finish today," Hammond said, "I have one other small bit of business. Please come to attention." He paused until the crisp, synchronized rustling through the rest of the 'gate room stopped. "From the Vice Chief of Staff of the Air Force, in recognition of Captain Samantha Carter's outstanding work, I hereby authorize her promotion to the rank of Major. Captain, step forward."
Carter walked up, glancing once at Jack before turning to the general. Hammond smiled warmly at her as he removed the bars on her uniform. "The United States Air Force recognizes that you have fulfilled tasks and duties well beyond the responsibility of Captain."
Oak leaf in hand, Jack stepped forward as well to pin it in place on her shoulder straps.
"It is with great pleasure," Hammond went on, "that I bestow upon you the responsibilities, the respect, and the rank of Major."
"Thank you, sir," Carter answered, saluting smartly.
She turned to Jack for a handshake. "Well done, Major," he told her, saluting as well and letting real pride seep into his words. Her smile brightened a little as he acknowledged her new rank.
"In closing, Major Carter's supervisor, Colonel Jack O'Neill, would like to say a few words," General Hammond finished, then stepped back to give Jack the podium.
Jack snuck a look at his team--all three of them now, his major and his favorite Jaffa standing together while his linguist grinned proudly at them from the floor--before turning to the rest of the embarkation room. "Normally, I am a man of very few words," he said. "And--"
Light surrounded him, and Earth disappeared.
From the next chapter (" The Asgard"):
"Well, sir," Jack said, "the Asgard have become fond of our little planet. They'd prefer not to see us destroyed, so they want to try to stop the attack by negotiating with the System Lords. Something called the Protected Planets Treaty. Thor didn't go into the details."