Alliances
Page 34
She was distressed about that. Doing a good job of hiding it, but he could tell. “Carter—”
“I know,” she said. “We saved nearly seven hundred people. It’s glass half-full time. I know.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Sir…”
Now what? Mixed in with her lingering sorrow for the babies, a distinct edge of nervousness. “Carter?”
She lifted her gaze and looked him square in the face. “There’s something I need to ask you. Something about the Eurondan mission.”
Oh, crap. He wanted to forget the frickin’ Eurondan mission. “What?”
“When you ordered the iris closed…” She took a breath then let it out, incrementally. “Were you hoping I’d countermand you?”
“Countermand me?” He lifted his eyebrows. “You’re a major, Major. I’m a colonel, you can’t countermand me.”
She frowned. “You know what I mean.”
Yes. He knew what she meant. “Were you hoping I hoped that?”
“Sir—”
“I’m serious. Did you want me to want you to—”
“No,” she said flatly. “I thought—think—you made the right call.”
Until she said it, he’d had no idea how much that mattered. “Okay.”
She leaned forward, just a little. “Do you think you made the right call? Sir, do you wish I’d stopped you? Now that some time’s gone by, and we’ve had a chance to… think about it. Should I have argued to let Alar through?”
He shook his head. “Not in a million years.”
She relaxed, as though relieved of some terrible burden. “Good. Sir—”
On the other side of the infirmary door, a brisk knocking. He looked at Carter. Shrugged. Raised his voice and said, “Come in.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Jacob, his hand on the doorknob, Martouf at his shoulder. “Only we have to get back to Vorash and we didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”
“Hey, no sweat,” O’Neill said. “Come on in. The more the merrier. It’s called visiting time at the zoo.”
Behind the Tok’ra, Daniel and Teal’c. No conversation required there; they looked at him, he looked at them. A nod. A smile. The rest unspoken.
Jacob said, “You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
“Thanks to you. Teal’c told me you had to kick some serious butt to join the rescue. Appreciate it. I owe you.”
Jacob waggled a finger. “You owe us a tel’tac,” he said, grinning. “As it happens.”
O’Neill grinned back. “Bill me.”
Martouf said, “We should not be speaking of debts, Jacob. Between friends, there is no such thing.”
Friends? Him and Martouf? Well, yeah. I guess we are. “No debt? Damn. So that rules out me teaching you poker.”
Jacob’s grin widened. “I’ve already taught him, Jack. Trust me, he’s doing you a favor.”
It was a pity to spoil the mood, but… “Jacob. I’m sorry about your operative. Leith. I was with her when she died. All she cared about was protecting the Tok’ra. You’d have been proud.”
“We are,” said Martouf. “She will be remembered.”
The sombre silence was broken by General Hammond’s arrival. “Colonel! Good to see you awake.”
He couldn’t stand, so he sat up straighter. “Thank you, sir. It’s good to be awake.”
“This came for you this morning,” said the general, showing him a flimsy envelope. “Thought you’d want it as soon as you were compos mentis again.”
O’Neill blinked. “A telegram?”
“From Washington.”
“Really? From the President?” he said hopefully.
Hammond’s smile was very wry. “Not quite,” he said, and handed the telegram over.
O’Neill read it. Nearly choked. Passed it to Carter, who made a strangled noise in her throat, eyes wide with outrage, and said, “Can I read it aloud?”
He nodded. “Sure. Why not. We’re all fans of street theatre, aren’t we?”
She held up the telegram. “’To Colonel Jack O’Neill, USAF blah blah blah, from Senator Robert Kinsey, blah blah blah. Dear Colonel. Congratulations on your recent narrow escape. Do take care in the future. Next time you might not be so lucky. Sincerely, blah blah blah.’”
A stunned silence, then derisive laughter.
O’Neill looked at Hammond. “I guess this means I owe the President. He’s saved my unmentionables yet again.”
Hammond nodded. “I understand there’s to be a conversation, when you’re fully recovered.”
He could hardly wait. “Yes, sir.”
“This must really be killing Kinsey,” said Daniel. “Foiled once more by Jack O’Neill and SG-1.”
Jacob shook his head. “Well, you know what they say, Jack. With friends like that…”
If O’Neill had been the sentimental type he’d have said something soppy, like: With friends like you, who cares about Kinsey?
But he’d never been soppy a day in his life, so he just shrugged and smiled his best feral smile. “Screw Robert Kinsey and the rat he rode in on. I won. He lost. What’s next?”
“Next,” said Jacob, with a look at Martouf, “we take our leave.”
He felt sharply disappointed. “You really can’t stay?”
“Sorry. There’s a ton of work waiting for us back on Vorash,” said Jacob, brisk and focused. “Almost three-quarters of the slaves you insisted on freeing have agreed to come and learn about the Tok’ra, with a view to joining our ranks. The others have been found homes on two non-Goa’uld occupied worlds. They have new lives now, thanks to you.”
“So much for calling me Kunta Kinte…” Daniel murmured. “Have you met Mr. Kettle, Colonel Pot?”
“Shut up, Daniel,” O’Neill said, with perfect amity.
“You were right to insist we save them, Colonel,” added Martouf. ”High Councillor Per’sus is very impressed; he looks forward to thanking you himself when we finalise the treaty Dr. Jackson is drawing up between Earth and the Tok’ra.”
O’Neill looked at Daniel, then. Daniel smiled, very pleased with himself, and O’Neill smiled back. No more tension, humming between them. Euronda was settled. They were settled. The world was returned to its proper axis, spinning gently…
“Treaty, eh?” he said to Jacob. “Gosh, that sounds like fun. All that talking—and writing—” He pretended to yawn.
“Yes, indeed,” said Hammond, as pleased as Daniel. “Which is why we’re lucky Dr. Jackson’s been asked especially to draft the language. It’s a singular compliment which the President has duly noted.”
“A singular compliment and an awful lot of work,” added Daniel. “So I’d better get back to it, as soon as I’ve said goodbye to Sallah.”
“Sallah?” O’Neill prompted. The name rang a bell.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
“I’ve got some goodbyes to say too,” said Carter. “Berez, and Qualah. Sir, it’s good to see you looking so much better. I’ll stop by again this evening, if you’d like.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You do that.”
“Okay!” said Fraiser, bustling in like the maitre-d at a swanky over-booked restaurant. “Show’s over. I said ten minutes and I meant ten minutes. Everybody out! Vamoose! Scram! Scoot! Good-bye!”
Under cover of the resulting hubbub, Teal’c moved to the bedside. “Recover quickly, O’Neill,” he said. His face was alight with grave amusement. “I wish once again to be entertained by your attempts to punch me on the nose.”
He snorted. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that.”
Teal’c’s hand rested briefly on his shoulder. “Yet again, you have defied great odds and survived where most would perish.” He wasn’t amused now. “I am glad.”
“Me too,” he replied. “But the odds would’ve been a damned sight better if I hadn’t let them talk me into sitting you out on this one. Do me a favor, okay? You punch me
on the nose if I’m ever that stupid again.”
Teal’c bowed. “With pleasure, O’Neill.”
“Come on, come on, get out of here. Go!” said Fraiser, hands flapping. So they all shuffled out, his team, the Tok’ra. The room was suddenly empty. Too quiet.
“I need another minute,” said Hammond, pleasant but unequivocal. Fraiser frowned, then nodded.
“Okay, General. But—”
“Yes, doctor. Thank you.”
She let it slide. Took a moment to feel O’Neill’s forehead, check his pulse. “I’ll be back,” she threatened. “You be sleeping.”
She closed the door behind her, and then it was just him and the boss.
“Kinsey may be a wart on the face of humanity,” said Hammond, entirely serious, “but for once he’s right. You’ve been damned lucky, Jack.”
Equally serious, O’Neill nodded. “Yes, sir. I know.”
Hammond’s eyes were hooded. Intent. “This is a dangerous life you’ve picked for yourself, Jack. If I were you I’d save whatever luck I have left for out there—” He made a vague gesture, indicating the universe. “Don’t waste it by antagonizing pinheads like Kinsey. You’re smarter than that. You’re smarter than most people I know.”
O’Neill let himself smile. “Yeah. Could we keep that our little secret, do you think, sir? I’d hate to make Carter feel threatened.”
That made Hammond laugh. “Get some rest, Jack,” he advised, and patted him on the shoulder. “You can consider that an order.”
“Absolutely,” he said, obediently. As Hammond reached the door he added: “Sir?”
The general turned. “Jack?”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Colonel,” said Hammond, nodding. And
then he was alone.
For three whole seconds.
“Right,” said Fraiser, still bustling, but this time pushing a loaded cart. “Here is food. Here is fluid. Here is medicine. None of them is optional. I am your doctor, which means I’m God, and in case you’d forgotten there are ways undreamed of I can make you suffer if you don’t do as you’re told. Capisce?”
He eyed the cart with growing horror. “Milk? I don’t drink no stinking milk. Is there scotch in it? I’ll drink it if there’s scotch in it. And what’s that slop in the bowl? I don’t do slop, either, with or without the scotch. And what the hell is—Needles? To hell with that, I don’t need needles, even if the scotch is intravenous! Why do I need needles? Jacob healed me!”
Fraiser smiled at him. So would a barracuda smile, if it was wearing a stethoscope. “Consider them backup. Now, did I mention the word ‘suffer’? I think I did. Shall I mention it again? No, I thought not. Roll over. Gown up. We’ll start with the right hip, shall we?”
As she plunged the hypo into his flesh O’Neill yelped and thought:
God. It’s good to be home.
About the author
Karen Miller has been a fan of Stargate SG-1 since the pilot episode back in 1996. She was born in Canada, but now lives in Australia where she’s a full-time professional writer. Her Stargate fanfiction, the Medical Considerations series, introduced her to the enormous fun of writing in the Stargate SG-1 universe. Her first fantasy duology, Kingmaker, Kingbreaker was published by Voyager in 2005, and will be published in the UK by Orbit in 2007.
Karen’s website is: www.karenmiller.net
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20