"Call Forward" by Lin L Barrett

Title: Call Forward

Author: Lin L. Barrett

E-mail: (flames will be ignored; vent your spleen elsewhere. Authentic information phrased testily, on the other hand, will be appreciated and polite response made if time permits)

Rating: PG-17; R, Hu, A

Summary: Fraiser screws up, a priestess throws the lots for divination, and the combination of the two land Jack exactly where he wants to be, but doesn’t dare go.

Status: Complete

Spoilers: Solitudes

Season/Sequel: First, after "Solitudes"; next in the series is "Casablanca," "Exorcism," then "The Fifty-Minute Hour." The Muse tells me there will be more but she won’t divulge other details yet.

Content Warnings: Some words we all loved when we were in middle school; non-descriptive sexual situation.

Author’s note: Sam-and-Jack are an irresistible concept, but what would it take to really get there? It wouldn’t, given their situations as career officers, given the threat of the Gou’a’ould, be something either undertook lightly. And let’s face it, Jack is unnerved by Sam’s possession of a very fine mind, although it may be that he simply underestimates his own.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-1, the Gou’a’ould and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-1 Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fan fiction is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and is meant solely for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Please ask to archive. Author’s copyright March 1, 2001 - 06:44:51. 6324 words

Dr. Janet Fraiser was in the stores closet, flustered and unhappy. She’d had a very eventful morning in surgery; but in surgery, what was she wanted was lots and lots of boredom.

Then coming out of the operating room covered in gore - a nice technical term, she thought - she had had O’Neill in her face about the med kits. Well, he was right: she should have delegated this task. SG-1 was leaving in two hours and she should have had their kits prepped. There. Three done now.

Daniel’s kit wouldn’t latch. Yesterday she had ordered some replacement boxes but they weren’t in yet. She took out his personal meds (allergy tablets, mostly) and put them into Dr. Harrison’s kit from Research; they wouldn’t go out until Friday, a good three days away. Dr. Harrison, married to Dr. Hernandez, was allergic to everything under this-or-any-other sun, as Daniel was, and both had what she thought of as "the allergy sufferer’s kit." She pulled Harrison’s personal meds, and piled the kit onto SG-1's cart.

Far away, the high priestess Kormai threw the stones, chose the Nine, laid the pattern, and turned them over. She wrinkled her brow, and moved her consciousness aside to let the information speak through her mouth.

The sun was not fully over the mountains and dew lay heavy on the grass when the king walked up the hill to sit with the priest.

"Sit, sit," the king said, waving his staff. He sank down onto the flat stone the priest occupied, and motioned the guards away. The king pondered his feet. Eventually he said, "I have no reason to disbelieve the portents."

Kormai’s husband shrugged. "Excuse it, my lord. Kormai read them herself; she is simply unclear, as yet, where and how her duty to the Goddess lies, and it makes her testy."

The king rose, motioning his brother-in-law back down. Five days earlier, men whose heads were those of snakes had appeared out of the morning sky, and changed all their lives utterly and forever. The king’s wife, sons, daughter, and servants were dead, the Keep of Galrand their jumbled headstone, his kingship a matter now of providing for a landless band of twenty.

He gazed out over the camp. The other saw in his eyes his private pain, pain no king may wear before his people.

The king shook himself, rearranged his face. He said, "You to your work, and I to my government," and went down the hill toward the circle of tents.

Miles away a Stargate belched, sucked the vortex back in, and disgorged four figures.

Teal’c said flatly, "Jaafa have been here, not long ago."

Crap, thought Daniel Jackson. I’m toast.

Jack O’Neill said, "Okay, people, if they’re here let’s find the squiggle-thingie and beat feet. Teal’c, which direction for the Jaafa? And Daniel, which way to the goods?"

They pointed in the same direction.

Daniel thought, Figures.

And Jack said, "Okay. I’ll drive. Daniel, don’t touch anything; Teal’c, on six."

"There are no vehicles here, O’Neill."

"I meant, I’ll take point."

"Nomad camp, Daniel?"

It was hot in the late afternoon sun. SG-1 lay belly-down and sweating in scrub brush and dust at the top of sixty feet of sleek hexagonal basalt columns. Below them, tents had been erected in a circle at one end of a grassy valley, and hobbled horses grazed to one side.

"Looks like it. --Jack," Daniel said, his tone changing to awe, "one of those women has our Gou’a’ould tool."

"Where?"

"By the willows, gathering plants, I think. Long green dress with - bobbles - around the edge of the skirt."

Bobbles?

The woman, pulling water plants from the shallows, stacked them into her trug. She canted her long skirt up around her hips, the bobbles swinging around her knees. She was lame, one leg withered, and used the golden corkscrew as a staff.

Teal’c said, "They have no other energy weapons."

Sam Carter said, "I see swords, clubs, knives, bows and arrows."

Jack edged away from the precipice. "What they have can get you just as dead as the fancy stuff. Remember that, and let’s go meet the folks."

SG-1 walked out of the trees and found themselves targets.

Six pairs of narrowed eyes and at least that many weapons were trained on them. Jack stood like a statue and raised his hands, saying, "It’s a good time to put ‘em up, people."

The men and boys had clubs or knives or swords; the women and girls held daggers in their fists blade-up, or by the blade itself, for throwing.

One of the tallest of the men, who wore a narrow gold circlet across his forehead, said, "I am Deran, king of Galrand. Who are you?"

"Colonel Jack O’Neill, SG-1. My second-in-command, Major Sam Carter; Teal’c; Dr. Daniel Jackson."

"What do you here?"

Jack looked to Daniel, who took a deep breath and said, "We’re looking for that," and pointed at the staff the tall lame woman leaned on. Her knife was held in throwing position, and she contracted her brows at his words.

Daniel, did you just manage to get us all dead?

But the king lowered his sword, and the woman did the same with her own weapon.

"We have seen the portents of your coming," he said. "Welcome." They sat in a circle, inside the largest tent. The lame woman looked with a puzzled frown from one to another of SG-1. "But if you come from the stars, why do you concern yourselves with us? We are twenty in number and landless, now. We have little help to offer you."

"The ones who ruined your lands and took so many lives are our enemies too," Carter said. "They injure and kill many as they have your people, Kormai. We oppose them wherever we find them."

The king raised his eyes to her. "You are successful in this? I have never seen weapons like theirs. They seem gods."

"Nah," Jack said. "We kick their butts."

"It is true," Teal’c offered. "They have much power, but we often overcome them."

Deran simply nodded. He wanted to believe, and he could not take the comfort of belief, could not countenance the laying aside of terror and responsibility belief would entail. Twenty in number and landless, his people depended on him; he could afford no error in his judgment. They would not commit to this enterprise, yet, but he would listen.

Daniel said, "Is the Wand of the Goddess the only Gou’a’ould tool you have? If there are others they may return for them."

Kormai said, "I have ritual tools, yes, but only the Wand was given us directly by the Goddess. All the other items were made by our people."

"And it doesn’t - do - anything?"

"I have noticed that I am able to heal people more easily in its presence than out of it."

That could be explained by a meditative state or by self-hypnosis, but not by using a Gou’a’ould power weapon.

The magical tools: wand, cup, sword, platen. Kormai picked up the flat plate, and said musingly, "By lore one breaks the old platen on leaving a house, and consecrates a new one on arriving at the next residence. I do not know when I will be able to do that." She put the platen back down, and replaced it in its protective wrappings, then scraped her graying hair back with one hand. "Daniel, which of you are warriors?"

"Jack, Sam, and Teal’c all fight for our people, Kormai."

"As you do yourself, but you use words for weapons."

The archaeologist smiled. "True."

On the other side of the room the king said thoughtfully, "I must confer with my advisors." He clapped his hands, and said to the woman who appeared, "Show our guests to their quarters." He looked at Kormai, who said promptly, "The apothecary tent."

SG-1 laid their bedrolls out in a smell of herbs. Boxes, bales, trunks, sacks, and jars lined the walls, and bunches of herbs tied to dry hung from lines swagged between tent pole and tent wall. A large flat table occupied the far end.

Daniel’s eyes stung and streamed and his nose turned bright red within ten seconds of walking in. He put down his gear, broke out his med kit, ruffled around in it for allergy tablets.

Suddenly Carter’s eyes focused on a square package with a ring raised in the middle, in the center of the med kit, beside Daniel’s hand. Why would you be carrying those?

Sitting back on his heels, oblivious, Daniel popped a tablet into his mouth, chased it with water from his canteen.

O’Neill took first watch. The others were in their bedrolls and he was looking up at the stars with a coffee cup in his hands when he heard a limping footfall, and turned his head.

Kormai. "Do you watch the stars on your world also, Jack?"

He had forgotten how calm her voice was. "Yes. Their patterns are different, here; it’s a long way from my home."

"I did not know that other - places - held people like ourselves."

"The places and the stars change, but the people seem to be pretty much the same everywhere."

A silence ensued, and they watched the lights in the sky. Finally she turned her head to look at him, and said, "Under our stars, it is the custom that visiting warriors aid the priestess in a ritual called the Great Rite, to please our Goddess. Please, Jack, will you help me perform the Rite? Or if you cannot, will Teal’c?"

"I’m a bad choice for that, Kormai." There is no deity at all in too many places I’ve been. "I can’t answer for Teal’c; he might be more willing, but he’s asleep right now."

"Very little is required. A reverent silence, holding a cup, drinking wine from it. Whatever you may be moved to do after." She paused. "And it is, from my point of view, somewhat urgent. The Goddess must be very angry, to send the Gou’a’ould to us. We would not survive another such evidence of Her displeasure."

Doesn’t sound strenuous, and I probably wouldn’t be "moved" to do much after wine by itself. Wait a minute - reverent silence? Uh. --You can keep the lip zipped for a little while, O’Neill. She’s afraid, and not for herself but for her people. "In a couple of hours I’ll be off duty. Will that work?"

"I will return when I have finished my own duties," she said serenely.

When Kormai arrived she said, "This way," cheerfully, motioning him to the river. "The horses will make room for us."

The great beasts whickered and moved away, leaving them a small patch of moonlit grass at the edge of the water.

Kormai flapped out a blanket, and set a jeweled knife on it, followed that with a graceful silver cup. She pulled the cork from a bottle of wine, filled the chalice, tipped a little out onto the grass with a murmured litany.

He held the chalice, at her instruction, while she put the tip of the knife into the wine, and then sank the blade to the hilt. She removed it and wiped it dry, and they drank from the chalice - thin stuff, a faint flavor of oatmeal, not much kick to it.

He didn’t think he remembered all of what happened after. Which puzzled him; the chalice wasn’t large, and wasn’t it just wine . . . without much kick to it?

What he could get back, later, was lying on his back on a scratchy blanket with Kormai cuddled up under one arm. The other hand was under his head, and they were staring at the stars. Both of them were clothed; he wore his sidearm, although his boots were off, placed neatly side-by-

side left of the blanket; his stocking feet were comfortably crossed, one ankle over the other..

Kormai stirred and said, "You have sacrificed much to be a warrior for your people."

Ya think? My son. My marriage. Too many friends. The wine roared inside his head.

What he said was, "Nah. I go to interesting places, even if the people who live there try to kill me once in a while. I serve with Teal’c, and Daniel gets to play with his rocks - he didn’t get much chance to play when he was a kid, so it sorta affirms my faith in the existence of justice, somewhere. Carter - well, with Carter I have a reason to watch a beautiful woman’s backside. It’s not much of a sacrifice."

"Major Sam Carter watches you too, Jack."

"No kiddin’?"

Kormai smiled at his wistful tone. "You are both very discreet. She is a warrior on your world? Women are rarely warriors on this one."

"She is," Jack said. "She’s a damn’ fine warrior and I’m freakin’ fallin’ in love with her, and I can’t so much as buy her a cup of freakin’ coffee, because we’re both freakin’ warriors."

He brooded for a while. Then he seemed to Kormai to shake himself, although he didn’t move. Talking about one woman while you’re lying with another . . . smooth, O’Neill. He turned his head to look at her. "So . . . why’d you wanna be a priestess? Was the local priest cute?"

"The Goddess marked me out for Herself by laming me when I was very small," she said simply. "Rinthay was named priest shortly before my ordination. He and I were married some years ago, and I am most fortunate in my husband."

Jack’s brain took a horrendous lurch in the direction of sobriety. He sat up straight quickly and wished quite heartily that he had not; he thought his forehead might detach itself from the rest of his head and float off quietly to implode somewhere. "We’re . . . here, and he’s married to you?" He shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them black bugs wriggled out to the edges of his vision, then faded.

"Yes." She seemed unconcerned.

"It’s - I - How . . . is . . . he with this? That you and I . . . " He waggled his fingers.

She looked at him with her brow wrinkled. "It is part of my duties as priestess. He doesn’t like it, it takes away from our time together." Her voice was still calm.

Okay. It didn’t sound like an irate husband would be on his tail . . . .

Then the last of the alcohol evaporated from his brain as the adrenaline kicked him in the belly. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Kormai: did we use a condom?"

"Condom?" she repeated, puzzled.

"A - tube - of animal skin. So that our bodies didn’t touch when we - when we -" he fell silent and could feel the tops of his cheekbones turning red. "It’s a necessity on my world when people make love."

"Oh. We didn’t need one, Jack."

"Then why are we here - like this?"

"You asked to worship the Goddess so." She saw his lack of comprehension, and added, "That we lie beside one another, and hold one another."

Jack ground the heels of hands into his eyes. "Oh God, Hammond will have my head for this."

"God Hammond?"

"A personal deity," said Jack.

Kormai sat up, and put her hands on her knees. "Your god wants your head for performing the Great Rite with me?"

"Yes."

"Is that an honor, on your world?"

"No, it isn’t. He’ll chew my butt."

She considered. "His rites sound quite painful," she said finally.

"Ya think?" He sat staring at nothing very pleasant in the distances inside his head.

She watched for a moment, feeling from him exasperation and some pain she could not identify. She said carefully, "Jack, sometimes on this world the high priestess advises a warrior. I advise you that you and Sam Carter are not on your world right now, and thus you may behave as you please."

"I wish that were true, Kormai."

"If it makes you easier in your mind I can order it."

"That would be good." Nothing I’d like better, in fact.

"I shall do so, then."

"Kormai, are your people familiar with the concept of sarcasm?"

She said nothing for a time, and he wished upon a star for the ability to keep his feet out of his mouth. Then she said, with no change in tone, "You and she, come so far, would please the Goddess greatly if you performed the Great Rite for us, and pleasing the Goddess may safeguard my people in this awful time." She paused, remembering that he was from a place so far away that the stars were not the same, and it sounded as if the gods were . . . fundamentally different, also. "The Goddess reserves all rites of love and pleasure to Herself, Jack. Make the heart of the rite purchasing those cups of coffee that annoy you so for Major Sam Carter if you wish. Perform the Great Rite for us, please, Jack."

He put his head down on his knees.

Daniel had just relieved Carter and was making the coffee Jack couldn’t buy her when Jack stamped back to the camp. He put his nose four inches in front of the archeologist’s, and snarled, "What’s the Great Rite?"

"The Great Rite? The priestess and the priest have sex within the magic circle, Jack." The younger man grew excited. "Why? Did you see the ritual performed?"

"No, Daniel! I participated! And it wasn’t sex, it was - cuddling! And with me and Carter it would be buying cups of coffee!"

He stamped off. Carter stepped out of the tent, and she and Daniel looked at each other. Some time later, Carter’s little voice-inside said . . . you’re jealous . . . You shut up and go away.

She sipped her coffee, and let Daniel burble on. Daniel was nervous, and drowning it in words.

Carter’s little voice said . . . you’re jealous . . . . (It is difficult to accurately transcribe a silent angry snort which is still not a denial.)

" . . . and the loose organization of the tanist system - it was a kind of meritocracy . . . ."

. . . .he’s your commanding officer . . . . I know that.

. . . makes no difference, though . . . .

Oh, yes, it does.

"..outside of the Book of Kells it’s the earliest . . . ."

. . . it won’t stop you . . . . Oh, it won’t stop me, but it absolutely will slow me down.

" . . . unified the Picts and the Scots, although it was roughly concomitant . . . ."

. . . it’s not as if you’ve given him any encouragement . . . . It’s not as if I’ve slapped his face any of the four hundred and thirty-eight times he’s earned it, either! He’s bleeding to death internally, both of us are trapped beyond any hope of rescue in a hostile environment, and he says,"I swear to you, it’s just my sidearm, Major"! That’s my personal favorite! And now he goes off and cuddles with the high priestess!

" . . . although many dances didn’t survive the First World War . . . ."

. . . be careful how you tell him No . . . . I don’t intend to tell him No.

. . . oh . . . said the voice. . . . well, then, you don’t need my advice . . . .

Damn straight.

" . . . and so most people date it later than that. What do you think, Sam?"

Jack watched the sentries watching him, and wished he still smoked. O’Neill, you have done some bone-headed things in your time, but losing control as you did with Kormai was indefensible. Than which you knew better, boy. The Gou’a’ould are here, now, on this world, and you put Daniel at risk by being out of control in that situation. Do you want to kill the entire Stargate project stone dead? He drew breath. What the hell got into me?

When Kormai rose from her rest it was late of a sunny morning. She ran Carter to earth in the apothecary tent, labeling and packing soil and plant samples, in no very pleasant mood. "May I come in?" Kormai said, holding the flap. "Or will you walk with me, Major Carter?"

Damn all bigwigs, including but not limited to her superior officer. She needed a break, anyway. "I’ll come with you."

They went to the willows and stood in their shade, overlooking the river. Boys shouted and splashed upstream. Two men stretched a net across shallows further down.

"Major Carter, are you familiar with the duties of a high priestess?"

"No," Carter said shortly. "Daniel would be."

Kormai settled her shawl on her shoulders. "When warriors such as yourselves come to visit us, it is my duty as priestess to see that they receive any assistance they require in performing devotions owed to the Goddess. Last night, as you may know, I assisted Jack."

Carter went a little cold inside. I don’t want to know this.

"Major Carter, over the years many warriors have performed the Great Rite with me to exalt our Goddess, while their hearts yearned for another. When that yearning is strong, they will ask only to be held and comforted." Kormai smiled at the child nearest them, who was rapt in beating the surface of the water with a stick. "Within the body of the Great Rite, one does as one wishes, and last night Jack wished only for the comfort of touch, and to talk of you."

Carter was silent. I don’t want to know this, either. - Yes, I do.

Kormai shot her a glance, then resumed. "You do not worship our Goddess. You may not know that as well as rejoicing in acts of love and pleasure, She has a formidable sense of humor. As I slept last night, She gave me a dream, showing me how two warriors from your world might buy one another a cup of coffee, here on this world where that may happen."

" . . . What?" said Carter.

When Kormai found Jack the sun was at its warmest.

"Jack," said Kormai, "when you finish your watch I must see you where we met last night."

"Uh, Kormai...."

"It is the closing of the ritual, Jack. It is less interesting," she grinned at him, and he felt himself get red, "than the Rite itself, but still a necessity." She looked at him for a moment more, seeming to seek for the words. "Jack, this is my duty to my Goddess, and I must insist upon your cooperation. In this camp I can have you dragged to the meeting place, and staked out there. Please, join us of your own volition." She left without watching for his reaction.

Which was odd. He expected to be angry. He was puzzled, instead.

Daniel was absorbed in heating the night’s MRE when Sam emerged from Kormai’s tent, voluminous garments draped over one arm. She spoke his name.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I need something from your med kit."

He dug in a pocket and held out a closed fist. "Kormai talked to Teal’c and me. Teal’c is standing your watch."

Why don’t I just take out an ad in the base paper.

This is really silly. No, beyond silly. It’s dim. It’s stupid. It’s the stuff lovelorn teenagers do. I feel like Juliet in the hands of a bad playwright. I am going to disgrace myself in front of my CO, and I will drive a desk from now until forever, because I am right here, right now, dressed like this.

. . . it’s where you want to be . . . . Oh jeez, it’s you again. Will you go away?

. . . no . . . . Damn dress. How the hell could I fight in this? And this headdress.

. . . push the right side of the headdress up a little . . . . Why?

. . . because right now you look like you fell into it from a height . . . . She gave it a random shove. If the Gou’a’ould hit us while I’m in this silly - this silly - . My career will be past resurrecting, if we have an attack.

. . . you have your sidearm, and Daniel will back you on calling it a cultural exchange. That’s him . . . . Daniel?

. . . Jack . . . .

Jack worked his way slowly through the horses. He looked at her uncertainly, and said, "Kormai?"

Carter sighed. "No, sir, it’s Carter."

He stood back and stared, and then grinned. "For cryin’ out loud. What’s the deal with the getup?"

"They’re the robes of a junior priestess, sir. Kormai - ordained me, I guess. She figured out a way two warriors could buy each other a cup of coffee, here on this world."

The heart jolted in Jack O’Neill’s chest and began to pound.

"Fraiser put condoms in Daniel’s med kit for some reason." She took a deep breath. "He gave them to me, and Teal’c took my watch. The blankets are over there. So, sir - put up or shut up, sir."

"Carter."

"Sir."

"Don’t call me ‘sir.’"

"Don’t call me ‘Carter,’ Jack."

"Sam, we have to talk. You know as well as I do that this is unwise, however much we both want it."

She snorted. "Jack: it’s damn’ foolishness. On the other hand, Teal’c is on watch." She paused. "Jack, I want this. You’ve made it clear that you do too. Kormai has cleared the way for us, talked to Teal’c, talked to Daniel. She sees herself as the servant of her Goddess, the one who placates the Goddess to protect her people, and she takes that responsibility seriously. She coached me on performing the Great Rite. There’s a good chance we can label it as a cultural exchange."

He stood poleaxed, looking down at her.

She looked back at him, and played the trump card. "Kormai can, and she says she will, order you tied down and forced to participate in this ritual, Jack."

Suddenly his mouth was very dry. "Yeah, she said that to me, too. --Would you help?" Did I mean to say that?

"Would you like me to?" She grinned at his discomfiture, twitched her head in the direction of the river. "This way."

They knelt by the willows, a square of cloth in front of Sam. "The knife goes here," Sam said, concentrating, "and the wine goes there." Jack winced. "What?" said Sam, sitting back on her heels.

"I don’t want to drink that stuff again, Sam. I don’t remember what - happened - with Kormai. I want to remember this."

He saw her mouth soften. Then she poured all of the wine, instead of a small libation, onto the ground, and said the words Kormai had taught her: "O Great Goddess, I offer Thee this wine."

She dipped the cup into the river, rinsed it, refilled it, dropped in a purification tablet..

"You hold the cup." Jack took it gingerly, as if it might explode.

She took the blade. "O Great Goddess, bless Thy people of Galrand with this Rite."

The tip of the blade made a ripple on the water before Sam sank it to the hilt.

They both felt a surge of desire so strong the body labels it pain; perhaps the Goddess was pleased with the size of the libation.

Hands shaking, she reached for the cup, drank deeply, and passed it back.

He finished it and set the cup down.

Same place, same position, different woman. Two pairs of boots beside the blankets, two clothed bodies between blankets, two sidearms worn in their holsters. Her clothes slightly rumpled, being twitched back into a semblance of neatness. His tidy.

Because he wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t going to go so far off duty as to have an orgasm. He’d give her one, if she liked

She’d liked. Twice. And she knew that he’d liked, too.

Sam, a realist, knew Jack for as self-determined a person as she was. (All right then: stubborn.) She would take what Jack O’Neill was willing to give her. Fine: how to get him to will to give more?

Had Jack known her mind was turning upon that, perhaps he would have run screaming, and there would be a different story to tell.

Because Jack O’Neill liked strong women. He wasn’t, however, used to dealing with very, very smart ones.

Enter Major Samantha Carter, Ph.D., stage left.

"What are you thinking about, Sam?" And will I understand it when you tell me?

She turned onto her side to face him, and said, "Jack, I want you," with pain in her voice.

"Don’t flatter me, Sam. Find an intellectual equal." Pragmatism in his.

Sam took a deep breath, wondering if, after all, this was why she still had her clothes on. Jack felt her heart begin to pound. "Jack: I don’t like stupid people. I feel for them a sort of exasperated compassion which I never feel for you. I like you. I like those awful puns you make, and when you get sarcastic I can feel the corners of my mouth turn up. I respect your skills and abilities and judgment as a soldier, profoundly." She ran gentle fingers over his forehead and down his cheek. "You’ve kept all of us alive many times. I trust you with my life, Jack. I respect you. You’re more than intelligent enough in all the ways that matter to me right now, and in some that matter to me forever. --Jack, don’t turn away from me, please."

" . . . I . . . ."

"Jack."

She traced the glistening path tears marked on his temple.

"Jack. You can’t be responsible for everything, all the time."

He turned his head to her. "I’m in command."

"You’re allowed to be off-duty enough to sleep." Her mouth curved up.

He watched her silently. He thought his heart would break in two.

"Do you sleep longer than twenty minutes a night?" She began gently undoing the buttons of his shirt. "Teal’c’s on duty, you know. Your alter ego."

He grasped her hands. She kissed him, softly, and after a moment of that communion he let go of her hands, and reached for her clothing.

"Sam, you’re going to kill an old man."

"If he interrupts us, I might."

The next day Carter walked around with a small smile on her lips most of the day. Kormai observed it, and smiled to herself.

Midafternoon Carter thought to herself, That is one weird dream I had last night. Call-

forwarding? The Pony Express? And little telephones, with snake’s heads on the handset? But Kormai could have told her that the Goddess gives Her priestesses mysterious gifts.

It was midday, two days of hard travel later. They were in the trees, the ruined castle below them, and a pain sat on the king’s face that twisted Jack O’Neill’s gut. He couldn’t watch. He’d seen it on his comrades’ faces, felt it himself, far too many times . . . he busied himself with tracking the Jaafa below.

No Gou’a’ould were visible, only the Jaafa, excavating the jumbled stones that were once the Keep of Galrand. A mass grave lay beyond it, and intermittently a Jaafa would carry a body there, and throw it in.

Jack would have spared Deran that sight, if he could.

"O’Neill," said Teal’c.

"Yeah."

"I shall go listen to the sentries talk."

He looked over at the Jaafa. "Best idea I’ve heard all day."

Teal’c, silent as smoke, drifted among the Jaafa. Never too close. Never too far. Just - there. Listening. Some time later, removing himself; silent again, stopping at another shadow, closer to the next pair of Jaafa.

At dusk they broke out the night-vision scopes, and when Carter picked him out of the shadows they watched him arrive like a drift of smoke outside the largest tent, find a deeper darkness there, meld with it.

Jack was dealing with the day’s first MRE - he’d be damned if he’d call it "eating breakfast" - when Teal’c squatted beside him.

"The Gou’a’ould has left. This company of her guards have two more days in which to excavate the ruins of the castle. Whether they are successful in finding the weapon or not, they will then begin recruiting for hosts from among the local population."

The two men looked at each other for a very long moment, and Daniel, fork poised in mid-air, went ash-white.

"Better distract ‘em before they finish, I guess," Jack said quietly.

Carter’s dream suddenly made sense to her. "Sir," she said intensely, "I have an idea."

"I . . . see," Deran king of Galrand said. All of the circle of his people had gone pale, listening to Teal’c recount the Jaafa’s instructions, hearing Daniel explain what they meant. The king raised his head, to look at Jack. "Have you a plan?"

"Carter, this is your baby. You want to do the honors?"

"Yes, sir. The Jaafa can move faster than we can on foot, but your people, your highness, have horses . . . ."

The last of the relay riders took the wand, and came down the sward leading to the Gate like it was Churchill Downs. The Jaafa advanced at their deceptively fast dog trot.

The boy bearing the wand was the last of six relay riders. The first had been carefully coached on being seen by the Jaafa, but staying out of their range. The next four riders had had one instruction: stay in sight but out of range.

The Jaafa had obediently followed all six.

The horse flashed by them; at the edge of Jack’s vision Kormai caught the thrown wand and followed Daniel to the Gate. The relay rider thundered away.

Jack and Teal’c were hidden with Deran’s people in the brush and trees, and held their weapons at the ready. Carter was out of sight in the brush beyond the DHD.

Daniel was at the DHD, waiting, a victim of nervous perspiration. He hit the seventh chevron, and the Gate activated as Kormai stepped onto the platform.

The Star Gate rumbled to life. "It’s SG-1's signal, sir!" said the airman monitoring com.

"Open the iris," said General Hammond.

Daniel Jackson came hurtling through at a dead run, followed by a limping woman clutching a golden wand which twined like curly willow. "Dial P3X3479!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Dial P3X3479! Now!"

On Kormai’s world, as the Jaafa disappeared into the wormhole, Carter dialed another sequence, and activated that Gate again.

The Jaafa go ‘round and ‘round, and they come out here . . . .

Some minutes passed inside the Gate room.

"SG-1's signal again, sir!"

"Open the Gate."

The rest of SG-1 came into the Gate room unusually composed and un-bloodied.

Daniel nodded on seeing the other three safe, and took off for his lab. The woman, whoever she might be, stared terrified at the General and almost ran after him.

Hammond said, "Welcome back, and it’s nice to see all of you in one piece for a change. Debrief in one hour."

"Colonel O’Neill?"

"Fairly standard mission, sir, except that we ran into Jaafa. They were on the track of the same artifact we were, and they razed a local castle to get to it, killing a lot of people in the process. The survivors escaped, taking the device with them. We interfaced with them, and Carter figured out how to call-forward from Gate to Gate. When we got the device here, they tried to get through our Gate, but she was able to drop ‘em into that planet with the malfunctioning DHD the MALPs checked out last week."

General Hammond nodded, looked across at the Egyptologist. "Dr. Jackson, what have you found out about the staff?"

"It’s of Gou’a’ould design. It may have been a Gou’a’ould weapon at one point. But now it’s exactly what Kormai thinks it is - a religious object. It may have been broken somehow, ruined, then discarded because it was of no further use."

Teal’c tilted his hand. "Did not Kormai - she is the high priestess for her people, General Hammond - say that she found healing easier with the staff than without it?"

"Yes, she did. Self-hypnosis, use of the device as a meditation object, generations of accumulation of perceived mana - that is to say, magical power." Daniel spread his hands. "It could be any of those things, but she isn’t getting anything Major Carter or I can measure out of that staff."

Jack looked at him with exasperation. "How long will it take you to explain what you just said in short words that we can all understand?"

Teal’c turned his head to Jack and intoned slowly, "Kormai believes the object has power, so for her the object has power." (Seven seconds by the clock.)

General Hammond carefully did not grin. "Major Carter, any results yet on the test samples?"

"Some of the river rock showed a relatively high concentration of naquaada, sir." She shuffled some papers and added, "Also, sir, I left that Gate set to P3X3479 for incoming, except for calls from our originating code. It won’t take the Gou’a’ould long to find what I did if they think to look for it, but they may believe the Gate on Kormai’s world is malfunctioning and leave them alone. That’s why we sent the Jaafa on, sir, instead of killing them."

"Good. We’ll get to work on a treaty. --Why did this Kormai run from me? She seemed terrified."

"She misunderstood something I said, sir. She believes you’re a god."

Hammond looked hard at his 2IC. (Who composed his face into that statement labeled "Perfect Innocence.") The general sighed. "Where is Kormai now?" "Dr. Fraiser asked to see her," Daniel said. "Kormai is lame, and Dr. Fraiser thinks she might be able to help. Kormai asked me to relay a request, General Hammond."

"And that is, Dr. Jackson?"

"To allow Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter to return with her to her people, sir. She said something about a ritual celebration lasting three days."

Jack’s face changed. Major Carter grinned down at her folded hands.

"Problem, Colonel? Major?" Hammond asked.

"No, sir. This time I know enough not to drink the local wine." Carter made no response, but raised her head and gazed at him limpidly.

Hammond knew that he was being had, somewhere, but these were professionals, and career officers. It probably didn’t matter.

He said merely, "I see. Well, Kormai’s a brave woman, to bargain with a god. In the interests of good diplomatic relations, I think we’ll reward her courage."

The End