Command Decision

Time Frame: Between Season 5 and Season 6

She gasped at the flash of blue in the scope as she drew it in to touch her orbital ridge. She snorted derisively when she realized the color came from her own eye.

She flinched at the hot, panicked breath in her right ear. "Jesus, Major, you can't just shoot 'im!" it said.

"Shut up, Captain Grunwald, and that's an order," she whispered sharply. Her finger -- sweaty, cold, and aching to mirror her heart -- trembled on the trigger of her rifle.

"Goddamn it, Carter!" came a cracking shout out of the shallow valley below that also echoed in her left ear. She could see too well his fear, anger, desperation, and defiance through the scope's lens. "I know you're out there! KILL ME NOW!"

She swung her weapon an inch or so to her left. Her other teammate still struggled valiantly but vainly against the three Jaffa warriors holding him back and just out of reach of the man he considered brother. His jaw muscles worked furiously, his hands clenched impotently. She imagined she could hear the growl she knew was living in his throat.

How the hell did it get to this?she thought as she slowly, reluctantly turned the scope sight back to her commanding officer. No -- her mentor, her friend...

...four hours earlier...

SG·1 exited the wormhole at a fast clip, as if they were shoved or ejected, despite having entered it at a leisurely pace on the Stargate Command side. The first one to arrive on PZ6-758, Colonel Jack O'Neill, momentarily gave in to his superstitious Irish nature and took this as a bad omen. The presence of trees - lots and lots of trees, behind which any number of unknown enemies could lurk - lining the wide, grassy path in front of the 'Gate didn't help. Stumbling down the weathered stone stairs in front of the Stargate but keeping his feet, he said over his shoulder, "Careful, kids. Rough first step." He did a quick scan of the area in front of the 'Gate.

The words were too late, but everyone remained standing, even though the newest member of the team, Captain Andrew Grunwald, crashed into an unmovable Teal'c. The young USAF officer staggered back, narrowly missing death by stopping millimeters shy of the event horizon. "Excuse me, sir, I didn't mean to -"

The Jaffa, arching an eyebrow, said, "No apology is necessary, Captain Grunwald." He looked at O'Neill, who rolled his eyes in bored disgust.

The shimmering pool made its characteristic sucking sound and vanished. Immediately, O'Neill visually checked out the area now visible behind Teal'c and Grunwald. Nothing seemed sinister or overtly threatening, so he turned to his second in command at the dial-home device. "Carter?"

"The DHD checks out, sir," replied Major Samantha Carter.

"Okay, campers, let's head out. Only a few klicks to yet another scenic ruins with a Triple-A rating in the basement. T, you've got our six. I'll take point. Carter, keep Gruntwald out of trouble." He took a deep breath and muttered a heartfelt, "God, I miss Daniel." He harrumphed at the memory of General Hammond ordering him to find a way to make the team work with Grunwald as their fourth.

...several days before...

"Sure, sir, as the dummy," he griped sardonically.

Hammond, face reddening, shot back with, "This is not a card game, Colonel. Captain Grunwald is a fine officer. You even had a hand in training him. Just give him the chance you never gave" - Hammond stopped himself from saying "the first two replacements for Doctor Jackson" - "Lieutenant Ellison and Captain Fogerty."

O'Neill caught the millisecond hitch between "gave" and "Lieutenant." He took no solace in the knowledge he was not grieving alone. "General, to make it on my team, he has to make his own chance."

........

The Stargate, as indicated by the UAV flight the previous day, was on one of several plateaus ringing a lush valley that was home to an impressive array of broken-down structures. Analysis of the data suggested that there was a large amount of naquadah there, either in the structures - likely of Ancient construction - themselves or in the ground beneath them. Hammond had sent them because he thought it would be a good first mission for the latest incarnation of SG·1.

The four of them stood on the ridge overlooking the valley. It quickly became apparent that they were not on a mountain but a hill and not a very tall one at that. Better yet, the scrub-covered slope down to the floor was gentler than the UAV transmission had led them to believe. To the outside of what was the tallest standing building topped with what appeared to be spires was a large, symmetrical clearing. This disturbed O'Neill, and a quick glance at Teal'c showed him the Jaffa was feeling the same. Both became increasingly alert.

It was Carter who found the old brick steps, almost hidden in groundcover and leading to the valley floor, on the slope farthest from the spired building. O'Neill went first, clearing the steps as he went.

The next few hours passed quickly and peacefully as Carter and Grunwald took readings and gathered soil and building samples, Teal'c photographed everything for Jonas Quinn, and O'Neill patrolled the perimeter. It was the Jaffa who noticed the change in the environment first.

Teal'c pressed the switch on the radio tucked away at his left shoulder. "O'Neill," he said softly, "I hear the engine of a Goa'uld cargo vessel. The sound it is making indicates that the ship is landing."

O'Neill blurted out a quiet "Crap!" at the faint but unmistakable urgency in Teal'c's voice before toggling his radio. "Copy that, Teal'c. On my way." The clearing. Crap. I hate it when I'm right. His senses converting to highest alert, he raced through the forest toward the ruins. "Get that, Carter?"

"Yes, sir. Packing up now."

"Negative. Not enough time, too much weight. You and Grunwald head for the 'Gate now. Teal'c and I will cover your six and be right behind you." Seconds later, he joined Teal'c who had already arrived at the structure closest to the landing site. "See anything?" he whispered.

The Jaffa shook his head. His face grim, he replied, "I estimate six to eight Jaffa and one or two others."

"We've had worse odds," O'Neill said conversationally. He thumbed the radio switch. "Carter, danger close. Radio silence. Hold the 'Gate." He released the switch, but it malfunctioned and stayed in open position. With hand signals, he communicated to Teal'c that they would place a few C4 blocks.

The Jaffa raised a concerned eyebrow. "Major Carter has determined there is much naquadah in these buildings."

O'Neill nodded his understanding. Because of the naquadah he didn't want to risk a firefight; who knew how much more powerful staff blasts would be when they hit the ruins? It probably wouldn't take a direct hit to do major damage to either one of them. "No time to split charges. Go!" he ordered quietly and pointed to a nearby deteriorated edifice. He rigged one block of C4 with a remote-controlled detonator and smacked it onto the crumbling wall he was crouched behind. He pulled back, Teal'c following a second later.

Her teammates' pointed conversation unexpectedly reverberated in her ear. Deducing the colonel's escape strategy and the terrific explosion the C4 and naquadah would produce pushed her into high gear. "Grunwald, drop that pack and let's go now." Carter, herself carrying a few soil samples and some small chunks of building material in a vest pocket, felt her anger at the captain quick to rise.

"But, Major, ma'am, we worked hard to get these. I don't want to leave 'em behind!" Grunwald stood there, feet apart, one arm hugging the pack to his side, P-90 hanging loosely from the cord around his neck.

"It's not worth our lives, Captain. Besides, I gave you an order." Carter walked backwards, hoping it would motivate the newbie if he thought he'd be left alone. However, she couldn't help but agree with his last sentence, but it wasn't rocks she didn't want to leave behind.

With a frustrated sigh, Grunwald let the pack fall to his feet. He took control of his rifle and nodded curtly at his superior officer.

Carter spun a 180 quickly to hide her annoyance with the insubordinate Grunwald. She began to understand on a new level how O'Neill must feel whenever she challenged him. She started running as fast as the uneven ground allowed.

O'Neill heard them now, too - the clunk of armored boots, the clatter of chain mail against breastplates. They were close, but not close enough to blow the charges. He moved on.

He squatted behind what was left of a column to listen. His ears told him the enemy was almost at the edge of the ruins. He noticed that Teal'c had made it to another column several over from his. He hunched his shoulders as if to ask whether they were far enough away. Teal'c's expression told him he did not know. A quick nod and they waited -- moving now would expose them.

The wait was scant seconds. As soon as he saw two enemy Jaffa round the structure that he had rigged, O'Neill punched the remote control.

The blast, much larger than expected, not only buried the two Jaffa, but slammed O'Neill and Teal'c to the ground. The columns they hid behind, worn thin by sun and wind and water, burst into pieces ranging in size from powder grains to baseballs and buried them.

Thunderous air lifted Carter and Grunwald from their feet and sent them sprawling face down. Carter grimaced at the pain in her left ear and in her chin caused by the butt of her MP-5 ramming into it. She fought to control the dizziness and the growing pain in her upper right chest. The dizziness passed quickly and she clambered to her feet. Spying a large rock protruding from the ground, she knew the source of her chest pain. "Grunwald. You okay?"

The captain was slower to rise. "Yes, ma'am. Except I think I broke my nose."

Carter winced slightly on seeing the newly altered feature streaming blood. "Come on, we'll be home soon and Doctor Fraiser will take care of it."

Grunwald nodded, gingerly wiped his mouth and chin on his sleeve, and followed Major Carter to the base of the steps.

The ringing in O'Neill's head brought him out of semi-consciousness. He blinked several times to clear the dust from his eyes. Then memory kicked in -- they had just blown up some Jaffa and almost themselves. He packed away his astonishment at not being dead or even fully unconscious. His eyes sought his teammate as he struggled to rise against the soreness and the extra weight atop him.

He was rewarded with seeing Teal'c come to his knees. They nodded at each other, with O'Neill adding a small smile, and simultaneously looked to the sight of the explosion. They counted four Jaffa down. And heard more behind those bodies. And they were getting closer very fast.

When O'Neill looked back to Teal'c, he saw the alien was already on his feet. With the explosion having turned much of the surrounding ruins to stumps, their best option was to put distance between them and the approaching warriors. Jack took off running, keeping close to what little cover was left and scanning for defensible positions. He took some reassurance from knowing Teal'c was only a few steps behind him.

Teal'c ran sideways, his staff weapon pointed at the area from which the enemy was most likely to emerge. Suddenly, he went down, his foot having slid on a slick, uneven stone. He managed to keep his grip on the staff weapon, but shredded the skin on the palm of his free hand. In the second or two before the pain would make itself known, he was up and running after O'Neill once more.

Until a staff blast deeply seared his right leg, just missing the C4 brick in his cargo pocket. He grunted, fell again, and lost his hold on the staff as he fought to stay conscious.

O'Neill stopped when he heard the sizzle of fireball burning skin and fabric. He turned around and, on seeing Teal'c down, unhesitatingly ran back to him, dodging staff blasts and firing his P-90 until it smoked. He didn't hear his friend yell, "Leave me, O'Neill!" over the noise. He didn't see who fired the zat'nikatel that brought him down two feet from Teal'c.

Carter, taking two stairs at a time, was about halfway up when her CO's "Gggaaahhh!" assaulted her eardrum. She recognized the buzzing static that accompanied it. Her gut tightening hard, she stopped abruptly and turned to go back down. But when she saw Grunwald -- nose still bleeding freely, left eye nearly swollen shut, right hand cradling his left forearm, and head bobbling -- she realized he was hurt worse than he had known or let on. Her priority had to become him.

She grabbed his right upper arm once he reached her. They continued the climb to the plateau and the Stargate together. She shut out the continued utterances of pain and the shouts of angry Goa'uld coming through her earpiece, as well as the agony in her soul.

Watching O'Neill curl up and writhe on the rock-strewn ground was enough to strip Teal'c of any remaining dampers on his ability to act. But it hadn't come quickly enough.

A Jaffa boot stomped heavily on Teal'c's wrist just as his hand wrapped around his staff weapon. He sneered, tensing for action. In the next instant, he was set upon by two other Jaffa and dragged up with ruthless expeditiousness.

A Jaffa and a shirtless human slave brutally hauled O'Neill to his feet. Still feeling the effects of the zat gun, he couldn't help emitting a small cry at the wrenching both shoulder joints suffered. "Hey, you stupid louts, have you no respect for the incapacitated that you incapacitate?" he asked hoarsely. The Jaffa answered with a harsh swat across O'Neill's mouth. "Ow!" He sucked the blood flowing from his split lip. "I'll take that as a 'no'." This time, he spat the blood out but regretted it when the lip reminded him from where the blood had come.

Jack struggled in their tight grasps, testing, but when they only increased their hold on him and tortured his shoulders further, he settled down to wait for another chance to escape. Or be rescued. He knew there was no way Carter and Grunwald had made it to the 'Gate before hearing the staff weapon and zat fire. Carter would stay, regardless that he had given her the order to hold the 'Gate. After all, it wouldn't be the first time she had refused to carry out an order. After all, hadn't he trained her? Set a bad example over the years? He sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Teal'c had tested his captors as well.

A tall, slender, blond-haired man dressed in an elaborately embroidered silk tunic, loose trousers, and sandals strode regally to them and stopped in front of O'Neill. The man's green eyes flashed white. In one hand he held a zat gun, in the other a thrashing symbiote -- one that was no longer puny and gray, one that now had big fins and wings and a full set of teeth.

Jack felt his stomach drop to his feet after it squeezed a liter of bile into his throat. Teal'c began to wrestle with his captors once again.

Carter assisted Grunwald to the ground where SG·1 had originally stood for its first look at the valley. He belly-flopped the last few inches to the grassy ridge. After she shifted her MP-5 to her back, Carter took a similar position, though more gracefully, to his left. She retrieved her binoculars for a better look at both the group below and the clearing.

The major swiftly determined that there was but one cargo ship and no one in its vicinity. Now she trained her sight on her teammates and the enemy. As soon as she identified what the man standing in front of the colonel was bringing up to his face, she clenched her jaw and tossed the binoculars aside. Hearing every word the Goa'uld said, she fought the dread promising to overtake her ability to think and immediately went for the pocket in her vest that held the sniper's scope built exclusively for Stargate Command weaponry. On Colonel Jack O'Neill's request and to his specifications.

The blond man gave Jack a closer look at the host-less parasite. Reflexively, Jack tucked his chin in, clamped his mouth shut, and reared his head back a few inches.

"The Jaffa that carried this Goa'uld with pride for many years came to this planet on one last mission before he was to give his god to another," began the snakehead, the overly resonant voice battering O'Neill's hope. "That host is far away. Since you are responsible for the Jaffa's premature demise, you will have the honor of serving your gods for thousands of years."

O'Neill tried to mask his terror. The memory of Hathor's Goa'uld burrowing into his upper thoracic spine, causing such excruciating pain going in and slithering up to send its vile message of dominance and contempt, came out of hiding with a vengeance. They had read each other's thoughts briefly before Jack had lapsed into a light but haunted unconsciousness. The snake's thoughts had been colder than the cryogenic chamber into which they had been lowered. He knew the horror of those few moments would continue to provide him with many years of nightmares. He scrambled past the memory to find his own contempt for and loathing of all things Goa'uld.

He found it, along with that false bravado that camouflaged his fears and insecurities. Quickly working up a wad of saliva, he spat it out forcefully, hitting the snakehead's forehead. "What, no tired 'kneel before your god' cliché, no effort to get to learn just a little something about me and my pal? Oh, and by the way, that snakeboy-in-my-head deal? Not gonna happen, you pencil-dick freak."

"What are you laughin' at, Major?" Grunwald whispered with surprise in his voice.

Carter hadn't realized she had snickered out loud at the colonel's comment on the Goa'uld's anatomy, or near lack of it. "Nothing, Captain," she replied as she affixed the scope to her rifle. Rapidly she found a comfortable position for her and her weapon, just like her CO had taught her. She took several long, deep breaths to center herself and clear her head and vision, just like her CO had taught her. His next words destroyed some of the clarity she had achieved.

The Goa'uld tossed his zat to one side then dramatically wiped the blood-streaked spittle oozing down his face and flicked it from his fingers, staring at O'Neill the entire time. He paid no attention to the increasing fight in the prisoner Jaffa.

Jack took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'd rather be dead than have a snake in my head! You'll have to kill me first!" Carter, you damn well better be in position to take me out!

Now Carter understood to a depth she had hoped she never would experience why O'Neill had taught her sniper skills, why he made her practice that horrible, lonely act until she had mastered it -- not up to his level of mastery, but "close enough to get it done," he had said. And why he would ask her, when they were camping under unfamiliar stars or being held captive, if she could kill, or order someone else to kill, someone she cared about if it meant saving him from a slow, wretched, and inevitable death or an abject, hateful life.

She had never really answered him. She had always considered the question rhetorical, a creepy what-if to pass the time in camp or cell.

After the "Hathor Incident," as O'Neill referred to it, he had made Carter and Daniel swear never to let him get snaked again under any circumstances. He had made them promise that they would do whatever was necessary to keep that from happening, even if it meant killing him. "There are some things worse than death," he had said softly and seriously.

And Carter knew this was one of them for him.

Taking out the hosted Goa'uld was not an option. In death, he'd simply free the snake and the latter would go straight for the colonel anyway and she'd be discovered. Not acceptable.

Easing the stock of the rifle into its proper place against her shoulder, she took several more breaths and waited for -- no, willed -- some other option to present itself.

The Goa'uld-man's empty hand filled with Jack's neck and squeezed. The symbiote wriggled excitedly as it neared its future host, squealing in a frenzy reminiscent of impending orgasm.

O'Neill felt his face purple quickly, thinking this was worse than when that Goa'ulded Unas nearly choked him to death. His body bucked hard for air. The Jaffa holding him gave him a solid punch to the ribcage. His moan couldn't escape his throat.

Suddenly, he could breathe; the Goa'uld-man had released him. He hyperventilated to increase quickly his oxygen level because it was imperative he stay awake. If Carter had actually obeyed orders, if Teal'c couldn't free himself, he had to be awake and strong to fight that damned disgusting serpent.

The Goa'uld-man now grasped Jack's clothing at the base of his throat. Giving the colonel a triumphant sneer, he ripped open his shirts and vest to the waist. He moved around to stand behind Jack. Again grabbing his clothes, he yanked the clothing down until O'Neill's neck and upper back were exposed. A frosty, sanctimonious laugh bubbled from his lips. "I see this will not be your first time. After you are taken, you must tell me all about it -- and much more."

Jack knew he was close to losing it. He could not endure this mind-rape a second time. He shot a desperate, silent plea to Teal'c to do what had to be done. His brother-warrior was turning out to be his only hope.

The look on O'Neill's face sent a significant surge of adrenalin through Teal'c's tiring body. He almost broke free of one of his guards, but another of them viciously thumped his wound. This slowed him enough for all three to gain even tighter control of him. He kept his howl of pain and frustration to himself and sent O'Neill his own message.

Jack shivered at the fathomless regret and the unconditional love and respect in Teal'c's dark eyes. He tilted his head slightly to acknowledge receipt of the message and to signal his forgiveness. He hoped T knew that the love and respect were mutual. Before he could do or say or think anything else, he felt a new weight on his shoulder and screamed.

The scream drilled deep into the primitive parts of Carter's brain. Closing her eyes against the onslaught of unfocused urges, she moved the trigger unit on the MP-5 to single shot.

"Oh, shit!" Grunwald somehow managed not to yell.

She opened her eyes. Even without the binoculars, without the scope, she could see the symbiote perched on her colonel's shoulder.

Frozen, she stared at the scope, afraid of that horrible, lonely act of distant yet intimate killing she would have to do, just like her CO had taught her. It was made infinitely worse because she had to do it to one of the few people for whom she would willingly die.

The snake, a male from the great queen Pagnosia, lingered on the host's shoulder, knowing that was torture for it. He knew he had to take it soon -- he had been out too long in a hostile environment. He decided to try going through its mouth. Coiling his tail around the host's neck, he reached around to see if this was a feasible option. Instead, the fresh blood on its lip and chin distracted him. He thrust his tongue out and began licking its scratchy chin.

"You fucking rat bastard!" O'Neill shouted, horrified by the act and startled by the tongue coated with incredibly sharp barbs lapping at his blood. One part of him wanted to laugh, however, when he heard Teal'c bellow a Goa'uldese epithet the Jaffa had taught him that questioned the snake's legitimacy and parentage.

The snake stopped his feast to hiss impatiently at his host. He returned to this indulgence, this time sucking blood directly from the wounded lip.

Jack, thoroughly sickened but determined not to go without a fight and to draw blood himself, curled his lip over his lower teeth as much as possible and bit down hard. His teeth punctured the tough hide of the serpent's snout.

An ear-shattering screech filled everyone's ears. Jack screamed again, this time in nauseating pain from an overloaded auditory nerve. He feared once more he would pass out, not only from the pain but from the pungent taste of Goa'uld flesh and blood as well. With a great deal of effort, he defeated the urge. "I'll never eat sushi again," he breathed, his face scrunched in disgust.

The snake recovered quickly. He would have his revenge on this impudent creature. He sank his teeth into the side of its face.

"Goddamn it, Carter!" Jack hollered, his voice cracking from dryness, strain, fear, and pain. "I know you're out there! KILL ME NOW!" he commanded. He had no idea how he was able to speak with a snake clamped down on his cheek.

Retracting his fangs from the chosen host's face, the serpent hissed again and twisted around. He would enter it now, through the spine, as was tradition among his kind.

The colonel was in her sights again. Carter now saw only defiance in that strong, lined face. And she saw the snake partially disappear behind O'Neill. Her finger still paralyzed, she watched O'Neill's mouth open, his eyes close tightly, and his head fall backwards. There was no scream, only small, guttural half-words of pain and despondency.

The sounds he made lacerated her very core. Unable to bear it any longer, she ripped the receiver from her ear canal, scratching the tender skin in the process. As she settled back into position, she wondered why she had kept it in so long. "Don't breathe, Captain, and whatever you do, don't touch me."

Grunwald shuddered at the fierceness just below the surface of her order. He scooted a couple inches away from her but it wasn't far enough to suit him.

Her colonel's need -- not hers -- now had priority. She had been putting hers first, and that was why, she now knew, it had gotten this far. Colonel, I'm not doing this because of any promise I made. I'm doing this because I know you and love you. Forgive me for being so damned slow about it.

She found the spot on his bared chest behind which she knew beat the left ventricle of his heart. She tried to remember where in a cycle of breath she should pull the trigger.

"O'NEILL!" Teal'c raged against the arms that held him hostage.

Jack heard his name over his own vocalizations and the unimaginable and indescribable pain the brutish snake was inflicting on him. It helped him refocus his fight against the ultimate hostile take-over. Did Kawalsky hurt this bad? Probably not...he didn't know what the hell was happening and couldn't resist...

As if the slow, tearing entry wasn't bad enough, it did something to the spinal cord nerves when it reached his spinal canal. Shards of demoralizing pain sped throughout most of his upper body. You slimy, scurvy, dickless asshole! he shouted internally at the invader. I am so gonna make you regret this! He then felt the snake begin its leisurely climb toward his brain.

He sensed he was losing, his energy nearly spent just staying conscious against the monstrous pain and the searing, malevolent probing of his mind. With almost nothing left to fight with, he clung to one last, quickly vanishing hope...

"CAR-"

The sharp thud of the single bullet piercing his chest was bliss, pure and simple. It seemed to glide through his body for hours before leaving. There was no pain. He smiled his thanks to where he knew Carter was. She hadn't let him down. He drifted toward unconsciousness or death, he wasn't sure which.

Sam's eye, its sight still amplified by the scope, registered every part of her commander's face. The smile he was sending her unquestionably communicated gratitude. It even touched his eyes, but she refused to accept it. That refusal allowed her primal self to dominate, her civilized self overwhelmed by the powerful demand for revenge.

By touch alone, she changed the trigger unit to fully automatic. Machine imitated the life wielding it.

Repeated yowls of pain and anger emanated from the enemy within, heaving throughout his entire body -- he was certain he would explode. Finally, he perceived even more tormenting pain in his head and back, and he realized it was due to the Goa'uld leaving him. Jack knew he'd die as he'd come into this universe -- alone, the one and only original being in his body, the way it should be.

The bullet had passed through O'Neill then sliced off the tip of the serpent's tail and finally stopped in the chest of the Goa'uld standing behind him. The blond man teetered a second, then collapsed.

A moment later, when Teal'c's captors finally realized what was happening, they released their hold on him and raced to their staff weapons. Knowing what MajorCarter must do next, he instantly launched at the Jaffa still pinning O'Neill's arm back. With as much speed and power as he could muster, he drove the heel of his hand up and into the enemy's nose. He could feel the relatively fragile bones shatter and penetrate soft tissue.

The enemy warrior fell, dead before he hit the ground. The slave let go of O'Neill and fled. The hail of gunfire pushed him to an Olympian pace.

Teal'c caught the colonel in time to control his descent to the ground. "I am sorry, O'Neill," he said softly, his voice quivering. He protected O'Neill from stray bullets by covering his friend with his own body. As he lay there, he took some pleasure at feeling the rise and fall of his fellow warrior's chest against his.

After a few seconds, all was quiet except for the colonel's pained murmuring. Teal'c rolled onto his left side, then gently pushed O'Neill until his back was to him. He held his friend in place. He could feel every spasm, tiny to large, O'Neill was experiencing as the Goa'uld wormed its way out.

The snake's exit was one long, scorching, stabbing pain in the back for O'Neill, even though the snake was moving as swiftly as it could. On top of that, it seemed to be sending darts of pure acid throughout his nervous system. "Son of a bitch," he snarled after a particularly bad one.

When he saw its wings clear, Teal'c gripped its body and let it continue to work its own way out in hopes of keeping damage to O'Neill to a minimum. The instant its head cleared, Teal'c jerked it away.

O'Neill loosed a small sob of relief that the damned spawn of Satan was out of him and the pain had eased somewhat. He wished for nothingness but it wouldn't come.

After settling O'Neill on his back once more, Teal'c rolled onto his. He took the shrieking, wriggling snake in both hands and tore it in half.

Grunwald thought he would lose every meal he had ever eaten after witnessing the barbarity of the last few minutes. Seeing Teal'c destroy the snake that had come out of Colonel O'Neill made him think he'd upchuck his toenails, too. He couldn't look down there any longer, so he chanced a glance at the officer next to him.

Major Carter hadn't budged from the sniper position. Her finger was still on the trigger. He could hear her breathing -- choppy and shallow -- and sniffing.

"I missed the target," she said matter-of-factly, causing him to jerk at the unexpected verbalization. "I triggered at the wrong time and it threw the shot off."

His eyes widened at the seeming callousness in her tone. He had no idea how to respond, or even if to respond.

Teal'c saved him from this awkwardness. "MajorCarter, O'Neill lives," boomed the alien's voice from the valley. "I will carry him home. Please dial the Stargate and request a medical team to attend us on our return."

"Roger that, Teal'c," Carter called back.

Grunwald stared in amazement at her as she finally moved, secured her weapon, and calmly walked to the 'Gate. He didn't see the tear streaks that lined her dirty face.

Once he had ensured that every enemy soldier was dead, triple-zatted the blond man and his false god, and informed the major of O'Neill's status, Teal'c knelt beside his friend. He placed his hand on the uninjured side of the human's face. "O'Neill, I will take you home now."

Jack, royally pissed that he hadn't passed out yet, opened his eyes to slit position. He smiled weakly at the surprised and pleased expression on Teal'c's face. "T," he stated simply. He took a deep breath and cringed from the pain it caused. "Tell Carter...right thing."

"Be assured, O'Neill, I shall. I hope that will suffice until you are able to tell her yourself."

Knowing Teal'c would carry his message to Carter, he got his wish.

Teal'c wouldn't let the flaring pain in his leg or the agitated prim'tah in his pouch hinder him from getting O'Neill across his shoulders in a fireman's carry nor slow his limping run to the steps up to the plateau, the Stargate, and home.

General Hammond had parked himself at the left side of the ramp soon after Major Carter had dialed in and reported. He couldn't believe how yet another seemingly innocuous mission had gone bad again. And everyone had been hurt to some degree, and his second-in-command was critically injured by friendly fire, of all things. At least the catastrophe of a Goa'ulded O'Neill had been averted. He'd have more complete answers as soon as Carter arrived in the SGC. Until then... The whooping Klaxons covered the soft curse he issued.

With one last look at the semi-circle of Special Forces personnel surrounding the ramp, their weapons trained on the Stargate, and the medical teams behind them, he turned back to the open 'Gate. His stomach roiled with acid, fear, and impatience.

He started slightly on seeing Teal'c and Jack emerge from the wormhole at a dead run. It became quickly obvious that Teal'c's unstable leg, the forward momentum of over 400 pounds, and the downslope of the ramp would make it difficult to stop. When the Jaffa finally did so at the ramp's base, Hammond widened his eyes in relief. "Make a hole!" he shouted over the horns.

The SFs obeyed immediately, but kept their eyes and weapons on the incoming wormhole.

The primary medical team, headed by Dr. Janet Fraiser, had the colonel in their custody within seconds and began their work after moving to the back of the 'Gate Room. The SFs closed ranks.

As soon as O'Neill was taken from the Jaffa, Hammond observed Teal'c as he watched his friend's treatment over the SFs' heads. The general had known the alien warrior for too many years not to have learned how to read the nuances in his reserved demeanor. The active jaw muscles, the shallow breaths, the about-to-pounce body, the eyes that never blinked or left Jack told Hammond all he needed to know of Teal'c's desolation. Wisely, the two medics assigned to him let him be and watched as well.

Hammond watched, too, feeling as powerless as he knew Teal'c did. By the serious attitudes of those tending Jack, he figured he'd better prepare himself for the inevitable as he knew Teal'c already had.

About a minute later, Captain Grunwald came through and lurched halfway down the ramp. "I quit," he muttered. Dropping to his knees, he promptly vomited the blood that had been building up in his stomach since his nose was broken and fainted. The nurse and the paramedic designated to care for him had elbowed their way through the wall of SFs barely in time to save him from further injury.

The inevitable happened next. Doctor Fraiser's authoritative voice rose above the commotion to say, "Dammit! V-fib. ACLS protocol."

Hammond couldn't bear to watch so he looked at Teal'c instead. The defibrillator charged and discharged twice. Each jolt made his own heart seize with concern and each time he could make out just the tiniest twitch of the Jaffa's body.

"Sinus brady," Fraiser announced almost blandly. "Got a pulse? Ashland, that central line won't wait so get it ready. Peterson, call for two more units of cross-matched packed cells."

George phased out the flurry of activity around O'Neill to concentrate on Teal'c. The Jaffa, he now noticed, was shiny with perspiration. If he didn't address his pain, exhaustion, and rapidly spreading infection very soon, he and his symbiote could die in a matter of hours.

Teal'c, sensing Hammond's scrutiny, shot the general a sidelong glance.

Hammond immediately took the opportunity to signal Teal'c to submit to the care of his attendants.

After a small nod of assent, the Jaffa permitted the medics to assist him to a gurney. Moments later, with more help to raise his wounded leg, he was flat on his back and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He desperately needed to perform kel-no-reem, yet found it impossible.

When Carter still hadn't come through several minutes later in spite of the 'Gate tech hailing her by radio every few seconds, Hammond worked his way over to the alien. "How are you doing, Teal'c?" he asked, with one eye on the burn specialty team tending to the Jaffa's leg injury.

"I will be fine, GeneralHammond, once I have knowledge of MajorCarter's safe return. I am concerned for her...well-being."

He had suspected and now was positive Carter hadn't told him all the essentials about how O'Neill had acquired the gunshot wound. "Give me the highlights on what happened out there, would you, Teal'c?"

The Jaffa took a deep breath to give himself time to organize his thoughts. He looked directly into Hammond's intelligent eyes. "The mission was uneventful until the cargo vessel of a Goa'uld unknown to me landed, no doubt planning to harvest the naquadah in the ruins. Colonel O'Neill killed four enemy Jaffa with one explosion. I incurred this staff burn shortly after that. We were both captured when he would not leave me behind. MajorCarter and Captain Grunwald were able to get away unnoticed. The Goa'uld in charge of their mission had with him another Goa'uld in need of a host. The implantation was in progress when MajorCarter shot ColonelO'Neill to prevent him from being taken."

Hammond knew about O'Neill's standing "order." Daniel Jackson, clearly distressed about the possibility of one day having to kill the man who had become his best friend, had come to speak with him about it shortly after Jack had made him promise to do whatever it took. "Did you see or speak with Major Carter before you came through the 'Gate?"

"I saw her only. The Stargate was open and I ran through it with ColonelO'Neill without stopping. His need was most urgent."

"But she was at the 'Gate."

"Yes." Teal'c returned his gaze to the ceiling tiles.

Hammond knew he wouldn't get another word about this whole incident out of him for the time being. "Thank you, Teal'c, for bringing him back."

"You are most welcome, GeneralHammond."

The leader of Stargate Command turned his attention back to the Stargate. Moments later, fully five minutes since Jack and Teal'c had returned, Sam Carter trudged through the event horizon. Her face was a study in self-loathing and -recrimination.

Instead of descending the ramp, she stayed at the top. She hurriedly removed the MP-5 from around her neck. Unceremoniously, she threw it back through the wormhole. Next she went for the earpiece that dangled from her radio and tossed that in after the offending weapon. Several seconds later the wormhole disengaged and the iris circled shut. She remained there, her back to the resuscitation effort on her CO but able to hear it too well now that the horns were silent.

Hammond walked up quietly behind her. He cleared his throat, but she didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. Finally, he said evenly, "Major, report."

Her shoulders rose and fell with the shaky breath she took. "Sir, permission to clean up first."

He understood the tight edginess in her tone and her need to decompress and come off the adrenalin. "Permission granted. My office in thirty."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Carter did a smart, rounded about-face to side-step the general, managing to avoid direct eye contact with him. She trotted down the ramp but stayed behind the medical team taking her colonel in a big hurry either to the infirmary or the operating room.

Teal'c had kept Carter under observation the entire time she was in the 'Gate Room. Now that she was gone, he proceeded with kel-no-reem, though it was difficult but not impossible to perform.

Sam, hugging her midriff, stood naked in front of the full-length mirror in the locker room. She could see a thin, short streak of dried blood coming from her left ear, a dark blue bruise in the shape of a rifle butt under her chin, and a black one above her right breast. From the feel of the rest of her body, she knew more bruises would be cropping up soon.

She forced herself to look up, catch her own eyes. Cold, dark, funereal. Certainly no badge of honor for her. The reason didn't matter. She had just gotten several giant steps closer to Jonas Hanson.

Slowly she padded into the nearest group shower stall. She chose the closest showerhead and turned on the hot water full blast, then scrubbed until her skin was a bright pink.

Jack blipped out of the blankness he was in just far enough to sense but not enough to move or communicate.

He was well beyond miserable. Mouth felt like the one of those damned desert planets the Tok'ra favored, head like the Indy 500 -- roaring, pounding, constantly circling -- chest like an abscessed tooth, back like C4-enhanced Roman candles. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, he realized he was in the OR.

That meant paralysis. With awareness. Because the anesthesia guy never, ever gave him enough narcotic or sedative. He always knew and felt at least half of everything that went on, ever since that little alteration in his brain chemistry about twenty years ago...

What to focus on to get through this time? He was alive so far, right? Snake-free. That was a good thing -- very good. Excellent even.

Carter.

He would think of Carter and what she had gone through. What he would say, assuming he would make it. She knew he had had to take out Kawalsky, and Skaara, and...her. Teal'c didn't count; he wasn't trying to kill the brainwashed Jaffa, only wound him badly enough so he didn't kill them. She didn't know about the others, but she knew enough. She knew he had killed people he loved, just like she had done today.

Oh, God, how could I have made her and Danny promise to do that?

The probe tunneling into the bullet hole hurt like hell.

Focus, dammit. Kick the gas-passer's narrow butt later, but focus now.

A mental shake of the head. Gah, even that hurts.

His concentration returned, his thoughts focused.

Because only the ones who love you enough would do it.

I'd do it for you.

Suddenly, he tasted a rush of delicious, warm opiate. Mercifully, he slipped back into the blankness, if only for a while.

General Hammond tried talking with Major Carter, but it was more or less a talking at. His assurances that the promise wasn't an order -- and if it had been, it was a legal one; the second in command of SGC in imminent danger of getting Goa'ulded definitely called for drastic measures -- that she would not face charges, and more fell on indifferent ears.

Carter left his office in her customary way -- brisk stride, arms swinging slightly, back straight, shoulders back. Very military.

Too damned military, if you ask me, Hammond fumed. One of the most important people in her life was gone, ascended to a higher plane, and another one actually had died by her hand; it was only luck and hard work that got him back, but it was still shaky going. And all this inside a month. Trying to cope with her current situation must be one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do.

He played back her part of their conversation. Carter had delivered her report and answered his questions quite dispassionately. She didn't seem to have left anything out. There was an adequate amount of eye contact. She had sat comfortably yet formally in her chair, hands folded neatly and still in her lap. Her affect was as flat as a flapjack.

This was not how the Samantha Carter he knew should be acting and reacting. Jack O'Neill? Absolutely. Teal'c? Definitely. But not Sam Carter.

He snorted and pushed his chair away from the table. A few seconds later, he stood at the star-map wall, staring out at nothing. Hell, George, what did you expect? She 's been learning at the foot of the master of silence, control, and denial for five years. If she can't see...

He spun around and headed back to his desk. He stabbed the speed-dial button on his phone for the OR. "Yes, this is General Hammond. Have Doctor Fraiser report to me as soon as she's out of surgery." I have another patient for you, Doc.

...thirty-six hours later...

The bulky dressing on his back itched, as did the one covering his right chest. The fatigue was bone-deep, the headache brain-center deep, and more, but he refused to inventory it. However, there was one misery that hurt terribly -- Carter hadn't been in to visit him. At all. He understood it, but it wasn't right. So not good.

Teal'c entered his field of vision. The Jaffa was barely limping and back to looking his serene self. He was even in uniform.

"So you sweet-talked ol' Doc Fraiser into discharging you during my last nap, huh?" That nap, he figured, had to have been at least five hours long and jam-packed with what seemed to be five years' worth of nightmares. In a way, neither that snakeboy nor Hathor's demon seed had left his head and probably never would.

"I merely pointed out to the good doctor that my return to my customary state of robust health would progress more quickly if I could perform kel-no-reem in the optimal circumstances of my room."

Jack sighed. "Quit adding insult to injury, will ya, T?" He shifted in bed but was still unable to get comfortable. What I wouldn't give to be in my own rack. "You've seen Carter?"

"No, I have not, O'Neill."

"Find her, T, and ask her to come see me, okay? Make it a request. If she refuses..." He let his voice trail off and, dejected, shrugged his good shoulder.

Teal'c gave O'Neill a slow smile and nod.

Even though the sign on the locker room door showed the Venus symbol, Teal'c pushed it open without knocking. "MajorCarter."

Her back was to the door. "Teal'c, you can't be in here right now. It's for women only."

He cocked his head at her familiar words. She had said almost the exact same thing when he found her here some weeks before. "I have not come here for women. I have come here for only one woman."

One side of her mouth quirked at his intentional misinterpretation. "How did you find me?" she asked.

"It was not difficult, MajorCarter. Jaffa are legendary throughout the galaxy as superior trackers. Also, this has been your chosen space for quiet contemplation since DanielJackson's ascension." He had found her then, too, a few hours after their friend had left.

Is there nowhere on this base where a girl can be alone with just her betrayal? She twisted to face him. "Well, since you're here...How're the hand and leg?"

"The hand injury has healed satisfactorily. The leg progresses quickly. Thank you." He stood there, unmoving, looking directly at Carter.

She squirmed mentally under his assessing eyes. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"It is not what you can do for me, but I for you. Do you wish to discuss our last mission through the Stargate?"

"No," she said emphatically. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Teal'c, I can't go out there again. Through the 'Gate. Not if I have to do..."

When she did not finish her statement, Teal'c said, "I can see you doing nothing else, MajorCarter. You are an integral part of SG·1 and together we must fight the Goa'uld and other enemies of beings who would be free."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Teal'c, but I didn't sign up to murder my own friend."

"Yes, you did, MajorCarter, when you chose to live your life as a warrior."

"Spending a hundred hours in enemy airspace doesn't qualify me to be a warrior. I'm not one! I'm a scientist!"

"You are correct, but of one thing only. You are a scientist because that is your center and your substance. Of becoming that you had no choice. But we are all more than our essence. We are our choices as well. You have chosen warrior to add to the sum that is SamanthaCarter."

He was mistaken. She had not exactly chosen this way of life. She had wanted to be an astronaut, and for a tomboy with an aptitude for science and math, the Air Force was her quickest way to get to the stars. "But I can't do what you and the colonel do. I can't make those hard calls."

"Once again, MajorCarter, you are wrong. You did make such a call less than two days ago. Those 'calls' are no less hard for us. We do what we must to accomplish the mission considering many factors, including the fate of one or of many, in a few moments. We think in black and white because we must be sure of our actions or suffer more as a consequence. That is because our essence is warrior. It is as natural for us as it is to breathe." He paused and took a step closer to her. "You have shown yourself to be a warrior on enemy ground many times. You have become a most capable and formidable soldier. You will master the art of command as well."

She waited several heartbeats while she considered what he said. She could learn, certainly, but could she actually master it, perform as needed, and still live with herself? "Is that why he never made you promise to...you know?"

"Yes. He knows, as do I, that we need not speak aloud of many things. We...understand."

Sam studied her hands for several seconds. "Thanks, Teal'c. You've given me a lot to think about. But you didn't come in here just to have this little talk."

"You are quite perceptive, MajorCarter. ColonelO'Neill is most concerned about your absence from the infirmary. He requests that you visit as soon as possible."

"I can't, Teal'c. I can't face him. It's my fault that the Goa'uld actually entered him. I hesitated -- couldn't pull the trigger. I was thinking about my need, not his. Not his, not this facility's, not this world's."

"Yet you did fulfill your promise to him."

She stared blankly at her friend's gentle, broad face, reliving O'Neill's torture and hers. Every muscle tensed. She could hear her heart in her ears but it didn't drown out the colonel's screams and cries. Her eyes filled with tears.

"No."

"Then I am to convey that your visit is a direct order." Teal'c held a hand out to her.

Eventually she accepted his hand and stood with his unnecessary help but welcome touch.

Jack flopped his head back onto the pillow, drained and perspiring from the last few minutes' activity. He scowled at the medic who had helped him get through the unique unpleasantness of tossing his cookies, or to more accurately describe the severity, barfing his nuts up. "This wouldn't have happened if I'd've gotten the green kind. If I had the green kind, I'd be healed by now."

The medic worked hard to maintain a straight face. "Sorry about that, sir. I'll make sure your next serving of Jell-O could be mistaken for Kermit the Frog."

O'Neill was about to come back with some smart-ass remark but stopped when he spied his second. "Carter."

"Sir!" Carter drew herself to attention. "Reporting as ordered, sir." She looked at the wall behind him.

He was crestfallen at her behavior and pissed at both Teal'c and Carter -- at him because he was skating outside the lines and at her because it took an order to get her here. "Oh, for cryin' out loud, Carter! I'm your team leader, not the commander-in-chief. At ease! And I did not order you to come!" He looked at the medic. "Thanks, Sergeant. Now, take a hike," he said, waving him away. "Major, take a seat."

Sam remained at parade rest. "I'd rather -"

"Carter!" Jack barked as much as his tender throat allowed. "Park your butt in that chair now." He indicated the one nearest his bed.

"Yes, sir." Stiffly, she made her way to the chair and sat. She still avoided looking directly at him, afraid he'd see the anguish in her eyes, afraid she'd see the pain and lingering terror and disappointment in his.

O'Neill took a deep breath and coughed, wincing at the surge in pain it caused. "Aw, crap," he groused quietly. "Yeah, yeah, it only hurts when I do that, so I won't do that. Anyway, Carter, I know you don't wanna be here, so I'll bottom-line this for you." He waited until she looked at him, unseeing. He read the anguish, self-doubt, and failure in those wide, blue eyes. Damn. I'm gonna lose you. "You did the right thing. The only thing." His tone radiated gentle, unquestionable confidence.

The colonel began to look blurry. Carter quickly rubbed her eyes. "Sir -"

"Carter," he interrupted again, "that you were able to do what you did indicates to me that you are almost ready to command a team of your own. I repeat, almost." He paused to let that sink in. "You have to know it. You have to learn to deal in your own way with the consequences of your decisions and actions and move on. Do you understand?"

She wanted to shout at him that he didn't understand. He must think she didn't have the shot until a few seconds before she fired. No! she protested. She had frozen, caused him to suffer in an unspeakable way. No way was she ready for command. She didn't even have the guts to visit him. Some warrior she was. "Sir, with all due respect, I disagree."

The tiny quaver in her voice felt like pounding surf in his ears. Dammit, Carter, don't make me work so hard. I feel like hell. "Major, I know you will disagree with me on this, too, but believe me when I say that in this matter, I am way smarter than you." He cleared his throat. "Oh, and not accepted."

Carter frowned. "Could you elaborate, Colonel?"

Jack huffed forcefully. "Carter, for someone who's so smart, you sure are slow on the uptake sometimes. Your resignation, Major. You're planning on submitting one. I'm not accepting it." Don't let what happened to us out there be for nothing. Don't let that damned snake win.

Sam wondered if she was that obvious, temporarily forgetting the colonel's uncanny ability to read people accurately. Nevertheless, she felt herself relax ever so slightly. He probably was right about all of this. Maybe one day, she'd see it, too. "If you say so, sir."

O'Neill detected a degree of smugness in her voice. He was gratified to see the real Carter starting to return. Sweet. "I say so, Major. Now, go away. You caught me in the middle of thinking up new ways to hook that honkin' big fish that keeps eluding me. Come back later. Now that's an order."

Carter stood, her frame looser than it had been in many hours. It was time to stop avoiding Janet, time to stop a few other things, time to start the very unmilitary tears that she knew would be her way of dealing. "Sir, you don't need to order me to come back."

Jack smiled knowingly. "I know, Carter." He got a smile in return. A second later, he was watching her leave. "Uh, one more thing."

She twisted at the waist to look back at him. "Yes, sir?"

"Thanks for failing at something, Sam." He patted the shoulder dressing.

This time, Jack got a grin, a blush, and an easy laugh. Love it when I score a hat trick.

end