Failing Expectations
It isn’t true.
It didn’t happen.
There is this aching empty spot, sitting in my chest, and there is nothing I can do about it. I can feel George’s eyes on me, feel him watching me as if he’s afraid I’ll do something like break, or bolt, or god knows what, but I won’t, because the main sensation I have is numbness. I can’t do anything except sit here, waiting for something else to happen, something that will change reality and put things right.
If I don’t move, it won’t have happened.
“Jack?”
I’ve told him. I told him what I did. Isn’t that enough? Now I’ve stopped.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the sword to fall.
I can feel George’s gaze, and I drop my eyes to the notepad in front of me. It’s plain and white. Totally unused. Next to it is a glass of water, the surface shifting slightly as my leg trembles. Here everything looks so normal. The briefing room where we have summed up so many wondrous events in a few phrases, the table – unscratched despite the way my pen always taps and scrapes it, the chairs – not too comfortable, yet good enough for long meetings, the General.
The two generals. George and I.
Rank never makes you right or infallible. Rank gives you opportunities to cause more heartbreak.
Generals make mistakes too, it’s just that their’s are bigger than average.
You can get people killed.
Even friends.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
A meeting between three friends. I was in my diplomat mode – the one I thought I had become so skilled at lately. General Jack O’Neill, Diplomat To The Stars. I made all the arrangements. It was an informal little gathering, just myself, Flavell – leader of the Heptaurus, and Thor – Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Flavell had never met an Asgard, and although he seemed reasonably calm at the prospect, he was concerned that the other members of his council would not be quite as unruffled.
So there was just the three of us in the middle of the wide, open grassy area near the gate, sitting – or at least Flavell and I were sitting, Thor was standing. My team and Flavell’s personal guard were far enough away that they could see us but not hear what was being said. Refreshments had been provided, bottles of water - condensation still beading on their glass surface, some pleasant fruit, smelling vaguely like peaches and apricots, and small individual containers of something that, from Flavell’s description, could be yoghurt.
All in all, a very pleasant meeting. It just needed some beer, a few steaks and it would have been perfect.
The whole affair was my baby. I had nursed it from its tentative beginnings months ago when we first met the Heptaurus, and realised just how much we could gain from an alliance, to its fruition in this meeting. They had the same hatred of the Goa’uld as we did, with some pretty nifty weapons to back it up, and had managed to drive the last snake from their world centuries ago. I had broached the subject of trade with Flavell, pointing out the mutual benefits – their weapons for our communication technology – and he had leapt at the opportunity.
There had been just one stumbling block. He wanted a third party to oversee the negotiations. After much discussion we had a solution. I contacted the Asgard and Thor arrived.
The umpire.
I smiled at the thought, the image of Thor dressed in umpire gear, skating around, tussling ice hockey players, briefly tripped through my mind.
“Some more jorpo, General?” Flavell held out one of the yellow and pink fruits, balancing it on his large hand.
I shook my head, smiling. “No thanks.” I took a few more sips of the wonderfully cool water and turned to Thor. “I think we’re about done here.” I was extremely pleased with myself. The trade deal was fair to both sides, Thor had seen to that.
I was so proud.
“I’ll call my team over.” I reached for my radio, thinking how annoyed Daniel had been to be left out of the negotiations.
“Yes. You do that. I also have a call to make.” My hand paused in mid motion. In a fraction of a second Flavell’s tone had completely changed. He held a small glowing disk, far more advanced than anything I had yet seen on his planet. Before I could react he pressed down on it, then raised his eyes to mine and smiled. “He is coming.” Flavell said the single sentence as if he was announcing the second coming of Christ, and my spine tingled with the warning I had learnt never to ignore.
The warning came too late.
I was aware of people running towards us, from too far away to make any difference, but most of my attention was on the figure in the middle of the rings that had appeared in front of us.
Everything stopped.
He raised his hand, palm out, his smile sardonic and cold.
I stood frozen. My heart already dead.
The beam lashed out, its killing power undeniable, its light more intense than any I had seen. It reached out to me.
But something interrupted it.
It stopped.
And Thor’s body hit the ground at my feet.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I can hear George getting up, the sound of his chair scraping across the carpet loud in the silence. Even knowing he had moved, the touch of his hand on my arm made me start.
I had been lost in the memory.
The small body, ruined and crumpled, blood – a deep rich purple – pouring from the hole in his chest, organs that I didn’t recognise exposed to the air and sun. Large eyes open and staring.
“Son?”
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it isn’t my fault.
It is.
The blame falls squarely on me.
I’m the one who arranged the meeting. I’m the one who trusted Flavell. I’m the one who invited Thor.
I’m the one who froze.
I’m the one he saved.
I’m the one who killed him.
Me.
This time there could be no excuses.
“No.” I staggered slightly as I got to my feet, but I made it, George stepping back to give me room. I’m not sure what I was about to say, except that it didn’t ask for words of comfort. No, I’m not all right. “Permission to be excused, sir.” I hide my emotions in formality.
“Report to the infirmary, Jack.” Hammond raised his voice, forestalling my protests. “Get your injuries seen to. That’s an order. You should have gone there first.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. “Yes, sir.” Only my rank, and the fact I had totally ignored her, had prevented the Doc making an issue of it when I had refused her orders in the Gateroom. I remembered her look of shock as I had pushed past her and into the Briefing Room, knowing that George would soon follow me.
I looked down at my hands, covered in my own blood, and wondered why I felt nothing.
I felt the General’s eyes searing into my back as I left the room, knowing that his compassion must be tempered by condemnation.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
He had been angry. As angry as I had ever seen him, and I had seen him many times. He was a cold bastard, not given to emotional scenes.
He had stood, glaring down at Thor’s body, before raising his glowing eyes to mine. “Months of planning. Months. Ruined.” He stalked towards me, stepping contemptuously over my dead friend, and backhanded me across the face, throwing me viciously onto the grass. “How many times do I need to kill you before you understand that I only left you alive for my own pleasure?”
Ba’al smiled his devil smile at me and crushed my fingers underfoot as if I was a bug, grinding and breaking the bones.
“Perhaps all is not lost, after all, I still have you.”
It meant nothing. Just a jumble of words strung together into sounds. I watched Thor. Watched as he became nothing more than a shell. A shell that had held one of the clearest, cleanest lights to ever shine.
Ba’al followed my gaze, his eyes calculating. “He could still be of use. Something may be salvaged from this.” He beckoned to Flavell, an interested observer on the sideline and pointed at Thor’s body. “Pick him up. We shall return to my ship.”
No.
I wouldn’t let them.
I pulled a fury I hid deep within myself, and dragged it up to the surface. There was no way in hell that evil snake was going to take Thor. My time in his hands had taught me that it was better to stay dead.
I felt the anger, red hot within me. It was always there, always carefully hidden. This time it rose, burning, until I felt it fill and consume me. I reached Ba’al before he could move, my broken hand forgotten. My blood mingled with his as I danced the movements ingrained into me, striking out, taking him down to the ground just as he had taken me. Distant voices called out, sounds I knew I should know lost in the raging, lethal animal I had become.
I flowed.
Until he lay before me, crushed. Defeated.
I came back to myself, sudden exhaustion driving me to my knees, my head hanging.
“O’Neill.” Teal’c knelt beside me. “It is over. We must leave.”
I gathered the energy to nod, and tried to stand. He took my arm, and without it I couldn’t have risen. Blood ran from my hands and stained his shirt, leaving patterns too beautiful for horror. So much blood.
I was aware of Carter and Daniel, staring at me, their expressions as open as children’s. Shock, horror, fear – it was all there. I reached my hand out, seeing Daniel flinch from me, “Zat.” Wordlessly, Carter passed the weapon over and I took three deliberate, well-aimed shots, dissolving the Goa’uld into nothingness before dropping it from fingers that still hadn’t felt their pain.
I turned, cradling my hand, the blood still dripping.
He was gone.
“Where?” It was all I had energy to say, but they understood.
“Flavell escaped via a ring transport just as we got here, sir.” Carter looked around nervously. “We were delayed by his guards. I don’t know what happened to Thor. He was already gone.” She had her weapon ready, scanning the surrounding countryside. “We should leave. Ba’al must have a ship in orbit, and we may have company arriving any moment now.”
“I concur, O’Neill.” Teal’c’s deep voice broke into my confused thoughts. “We must leave immediately.”
Thor’s body was gone. I couldn’t even make sure he finally got home. I had even failed him in that.
I nodded.
I needed to go home too.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The Doc was upset that I hadn’t reported straight to the infirmary when I had returned, that I had insisted on speaking to General Hammond first, despite my injuries. She had already heard what happened from my team. She asked no questions, just helped me off with my shirt, and told me to lie down.
The first touch was feather light; the second had me clutching desperately at the edge of the bed.
“Sorry, General.” She motioned to a nurse, who handed her an already prepared needle. “You’ll need stitches for the cut on your cheek.”
I nodded, just wanting it done so I could get out of here.
I felt the tension that had held me sane for the last hour, slowly flowing away, and I glared at the Doc accusingly as I drifted into my nightmares.
Each time I tried to stop him. Each time I couldn’t. He died over and over, jumping into the beam with surprising speed. Sacrificing himself for me.
I could do nothing to change it. I tried.
Over and over, until I woke to the reality that it was true. My friend was dead.
I raised my hand to my eyes, but let it drop heavily to the bed before it reached them, the cast thumping on the mattress.
“Sir. Here.”
I took greedy mouthfuls of the offered water, my thirst only registering as I drank.
“I’ll get the doctor.”
“No.” I snagged the edge of her sleeve with my good hand, making the nurse turn back. I shook my head emphatically. I saw the hesitation, the question and then the answer flashing through her mind. She took the easy route of obeying the general, just as I had hoped.
“All right, sir. Try to get some more sleep.”
I nodded, and settled down to wait. I could tell it was night by the dimmed lighting and lack of noise. Hopefully the Doc was safely asleep as well. After a while I heard the sound of a door closing in the main ward, and I sat up, thankful I had none of the usual monitors attached to me this time. I stood, feeling only slightly dizzy, and grabbed a robe from the end of the bed, pulling it awkwardly around me.
I left.
I avoided anyone in the corridors, and made it to my quarters unnoticed. The mirror showed me what I already knew by touch – a long line of stitches down my left cheek almost to my jaw line, held together with butterfly clips and surrounded by bruises. Cutting the sleeve of a shirt I managed to drag it on over the cast on my right hand, buttoning it one handed with the proficiency that only comes from much practise. Finishing dressing, I drank another glass of water and opened the door.
I had no destination in mind. I just knew I had to get there, that there was something important left to do. There was still something I needed to find.
My locker door made a soft metallic thump as I opened it, coming back at me as if it didn’t want to move. I pulled the photo from it, careful not to rip the corners, and looked at the happy face of my son. Over the years I had convinced myself that his death had been a cruel accident, that it wasn’t totally my fault.
That it wasn’t my fate to see those I cared about die.
Another meaningless death to be laid at my feet.
I tucked the photo into my pocket and shut the locker door.
This time I knew where I was going, and it didn’t take me long to reach the infirmary. I could see the young nurse hunched over the desk, her face streaked with tears, Doc Fraiser standing over her.
“Doc.” At the sound of my voice both their heads turned, Janet’s mouth open in surprise. “I’d like to speak with you, in private.” I gestured towards her office, and turned, giving her no choice but to follow.
“Shut the door.” I took her chair, and motioned her to sit in the only other chair in the room - one for visitors - a move that obviously threw her off kilter. As I planned. “I take full responsibility for my actions. I ordered your nurse to not tell you I had woken, and I deliberately mislead her into thinking I was going back to sleep. No blame should be attached to her at all.”
“She knew better.” Her voice was tough and uncompromising.
“No she didn’t. You can’t expect her to disobey a direct order from a general. I knew that and I took advantage of it.” I looked the Doc straight in the eyes. “And I’m sure General Hammond will see it the same way.”
The Doc nodded curtly. “I hope whatever you had to do, it was worth the effort, sir.”
I touched the photo in my pocket with my left hand and nodded. “I needed to get something. Something that reminded me exactly where blame should rest.” I pushed back the chair and got to my feet. “Now I’m going to talk to the General. If you have a problem with any of this you know where to find me.”
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I knew he would be there. He was always there when I needed him.
And he was there this time too.
“Come in, Jack. Isn’t this an odd hour for Doctor Fraiser to release you?”
“Yes, it would be if she had. I released myself.”
He scrubbed his hand across his face. “What exactly are you doing here, son?”
“I need to speak with the Asgard. I need to tell them what happened, how he died.” I paced restlessly over the carpet, stopping at the desk as he answered.
“And how exactly did he die, Jack?”
“I killed him.” I couldn’t stand still. I started pacing again.
“That’s why I’m not going to let you talk to them.” He stood and moved around the desk, standing in front of me, right in my path. “Jack, sit down.”
I didn’t want to sit down but I had no choice, so I sat stiffly in the chair, every nerve on edge with the need to move, to do something. In the space of a few hours I’d gone from frozen to manic. My hand ached, my cheek burned, my mind churned and tossed through endless recriminations.
Then, in the silence of the moment, I accepted Hammond’s words. I was in no fit state to be talking to anyone, let alone the Asgard.
I settled back into the cushioned seat, and lowered my head, feeling the betrayal of moisture hovering just under the lashes of my eyes. I blinked it away and looked up defiantly into my commanding officer’s face.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid, but they have to be told.”
“They know, Jack. I contacted them myself as soon as your team gave me their report.” He perched on the desk, his leg touching mine. “I told them Commander Thor had been killed by Ba’al whilst saving your life. They took the news very calmly.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Calmly – yes, I’m sure they took it calmly. They were used to dying, considering how many of them had done it over the centuries. The Asgard were always calm. How many did that leave? How many of those indispensable little aliens, who wormed their way into your life leaving a gaping hole when they were gone?
“I want to go home now.”
I wanted to get out of there, back to my own house, open a bottle of something strong and grieve.
I wanted to be indulgent.
I wanted to play poker with my friend.
“I’m sorry, son, but you’re in no fit state to go home.” George’s words were oddly comforting. He had taken charge of me. He was making the decisions, and I could just go along with what he wanted. I didn’t need to think about it anymore.
I let my eyes shut, the sound of his voice speaking into the telephone a calming counterpoint to my own breathing.
“Jack. Come on, let’s go to your quarters.” I found Daniel leaning over me and my puzzlement must have showed because he leaned in closer and explained as he helped me stand. “The General asked me to come get you.”
It was the middle of the night, and George had asked Daniel to come get me. Not only that, but I hadn’t even noticed. I looked at the short, pugnacious older man standing beside me, an anxious look on his face, and realised just how much I must be worrying him.
“Go on, son. Try to get some sleep.” He shepherded me out of his office. I glanced back as we turned the corner, to see him still watching.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
“You don’t need to stay.” The trip to my quarters had exhausted my already flagging reserves of energy. I sat wearily on my bed, eyeing the bottom drawer of my closet with longing.
“I know I don’t. I’ll get some glasses.” He took the bottle from its hiding place, poured the amber liquid and handed one to me, hesitating when my left hand shook. “Are you sure? I bet Janet wouldn’t approve.”
“I’m sure, and does it really look like I care if anyone approves or not.” I hadn’t meant my reply to be so harsh, but it came out that way and I saw the result when Daniel stiffened up and pulled back. It reminded me of the way he had flinched after I killed Ba’al.
I swallowed the whiskey down quickly, giving a small cough when its heat hit, before allowing it to settle deeply into my stomach.
“At least lie down.” Daniel took one sip of his drink and set the glass on the table, watching as I swung my legs up and lay back, my arm shielding my eyes from the light. The throbbing pain from my broken fingers was increasing, a constant reminder of what had happened.
Daniel cleared his throat.
Oh crap – here it came, it wasn’t your fault, it’ll be okay, and all those other platitudes that I really didn’t want to hear.
“At least you don’t need to worry about Ba’al anymore.” Startled, I peered out from under the shelter of my arm and was surprised by the slight smile Daniel gave. “I don’t think there was enough of him left to scrape together for any sarcophagus, even before the zat.”
I thought about it for a moment before responding. “I had issues.”
“No, really?” He shuddered, underlining the sarcasm in his voice.
My ‘issues’ got Thor killed. The sight of that bastard snake had frozen me like a rabbit in headlights. It was strange, I had thought many times about what I would do if I saw Ba’al again. I had planned in minute detail, exactly what I would say, how I would act, but instead I had stood there and watched, unable to do anything except panic. It had taken my friend’s death to snap me out of it. Sure, I had killed Ba’al, but by then it was too late.
I shut my eyes again. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m not.” Daniel’s voice was cold and hard. “If anyone deserved to die, Ba’al did. I’m only sorry that it wasn’t slower. He should have suffered, like he made you suffer. I hope he rots in Hell.”
“Yeah.” I had to agree.
“I have to admit, Jack, I was shocked by the way you killed him.” He hurried on and I realised he was responding to my own distress. “I’ve never seen anything like that, never even realised someone could kill so easily,” he glanced up as I twitched in response, “but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have done it. I’m glad he’s dead.”
I turned over, cradling the cast on my hand and facing the wall. The stitches pulled tight across my face as I held myself in check, refusing to respond to the emotion in his voice.
“You won’t get any argument from me about that, Daniel.”
“Jack?” He was hesitant. “We should talk about Thor.”
“No, we shouldn’t, Daniel. You should go back to bed and let me get some sleep.”
“Jack…”
“Daniel. I’m not talking about it, so get over it, okay. I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.”
“Damnit, Jack! I don’t understand. You can’t just act as if nothing has happened. What about Thor’s body? We don’t even know where it is, if it was transported up to Ba’al’s ship. We should at least try to be find out what happened.”
I knew that. It was part of that deep down feeling of wrongness, the feeling that there were things I needed to do, but I couldn’t get up the energy to even think about, much less act upon. It was like I was slipping into quicksand.
Daniel was still talking. “We’ve seen how badly this has affected you. You’ve got us all worried.”
“Well, sorry about that, Daniel. I’ll try to be a little less worrying in future.” I twisted, grimacing as I moved, feeling the pain growing. He was standing near me, looking tired and drawn. “Get to bed. This discussion is ended. Turn off the light as you leave” I coiled myself up on my side again and shut my eyes, waiting until the room was in darkness and the door closed behind him.
The photograph was still in my pocket. I took it out and held it tight against me. I didn’t need the light to see it, not after all these years. Its image was etched into my heart.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The loud knock didn’t wake me. I had only drifted through what little had remained of the night, falling asleep to wake minutes later, the same nightmare never going beyond the moment when Thor died.
I sat, feeling every one of my years, my head full and heavy. “Who is it?”
“Doctor Fraiser, sir. May I come in?”
“Just a minute.” I pushed myself up, going to the bathroom and wiping my face over with cold water, carefully keeping the cut dry. The image in the mirror was even worse than yesterday, the bruises black and stark against the paleness of my skin, my eyes hooded with fatigue. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Doc ordered me straight back to the infirmary.
There was nothing I could do about it, so I ran a comb through my hair, threw on some clean clothes and opened the door. The Doc’s reaction was all I could have asked for.
“I want you back down in the Infirmary. Now.” She added a “Sir” at the last minute.
“I don’t have time for that.” I interrupted her as she opened her mouth to argue, holding my right hand out to her. “My fingers are set, my cheek is stitched. They are hardly life threatening injuries. What exactly would you do with me if I did come with you?”
“For a start, I’d make sure you got some sleep, General,” she snapped in answer.
I stepped around her, closing the door as I did so. “I may take you up on that later, Doc, but right now I have things I need to do.”
She stepped in front of me, her short figure blocking my path, her eyes blazing “At least promise me you’ll come and see me if you feel any pain.” I don’t know what made her change what she was about to say, but she looked into my eyes for a second and then stopped, a slight smile crossing her lips. “Any more pain than you’re already experiencing I mean.”
“I will, Doc. You have my word on that.”
Janet nodded. “That’s all I ask, sir.”
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
Carter was in the control room, mulling over some esoteric detail of wormhole travel with Siler. Lights were flashing, computers were buzzing away, personnel were sitting at their workstations doing who knew what.
In other words, everything was normal.
Except for the way people looked at me.
You protect your team and your allies.
You don’t leave anyone behind.
Well, so much for those rules.
General Hammond was in his office, looking only slightly more rested than I. He put down the document he was reading, and waited until I was seated before speaking.
“You look like hell, son.”
“You don’t look too good yourself, George.”
He didn’t smile. He just nodded, acknowledging the truth in what I had said. “How’s the hand?”
“Hurts.” I gave him that ‘d’uh’ look. It was throbbing and painful, having an angry Goa’uld stamping on it hadn’t helped.
He nodded again. “Before you ask, we’ve tried contacting the Asgard several times, and still have had no reply.” His face became even more troubled, if that were possible, as he continued. “I contacted the President and told him what had happened. He is very concerned that our friendship with the Asgard may be damaged.”
I could understand that. I didn’t have an exactly perfect track record as far as the Asgard were concerned. First I got Supreme Commander Thor shot, then I got him killed. I could see how that could damage relations.
There was one thing I could try though. I pulled the small communicator Thor had given me from my pocket and laid it on George’s desk.
“This is set to Thor’s personal frequency and it may not work now.” I didn’t say ‘now that he is dead’, I didn’t have to; we both knew what I was thinking. “But it’s worth a try.”
“Yes it is.”
I didn’t look up as I answered George. “I know you’re worried about me talking to them, but I have to do this. I have to know what happened to Thor’s body. If he’s still in the hands of the Goa’uld, I have to get him back.” I looked up then, straight into Hammond’s concerned eyes. “I don’t care what it takes, I will get him back.”
“You don’t need to convince me, Jack. You have my full support.” George’s strong, honest voice rang with certainty as he continued. “No one blames you for what happened, son, but I know nothing I say will convince you of that. I know you too well. Do what you have to do.”
I stretched out my hand and took the communicator. My thumb hovered over the small indent, and then I pressed it firmly.
There was no answer.
We sat, waiting. George was beginning to shift in his chair, when he seemed to shimmer. The familiar sensation of an Asgard transport beam tingled over my body, and I found myself standing on the bridge of a ship, with Earth stretched out below me.
“General O’Neill, welcome.”
I turned to the Asgard standing a few feet from me. Now that the moment had come, I was at a loss for words. The Earth Asgard alliance might hang on what I said in the next few minutes, but all I could think of was a blinding light and a small body falling at my feet. All I could think of was what I had lost.
“I am Supreme Commander Myton, Commander Thor’s replacement.”
My heart sank. Thor’s replacement. Even though I had known it was impossible, deep in my heart there made been a tiny shred of hope still clinging. Now it was torn away. There was only one thing left to know.
“Thor’s body disappeared. Do you know where it is?”
Myton’s large eyes blinked in response to my abrupt question. “Of course. It was transported to this ship.” He seemed puzzled. “I had assumed that was why you contacted us.” He must have sensed my confusion, because he hurried on. “Commander Thor left instructions that if anything should happen to him, you should be present for the disposal of his body. I was under the impression he had told you of this, and was waiting for your communication.”
I shook my head, desperately trying to straighten it all out in my mind. One fact shone through above all else. Thor was dead. He had wanted me at his funeral.
He was dead.
“If you would come with me, General.” Myton gestured to a door to the left. I followed the small alien through the empty corridors of the vast vessel, until we entered a room, empty except for one thing.
On the gleaming white table was the ruined body of my friend.
I couldn’t help it. I put out my hand and touched the cold flesh, suppressing the sob that threatened to rip my throat open.
It was fitting that I be here to see the damage I had done by my inaction. I had done this, and one day I would have to pay the price.
I realised that I had no idea what the Asgard did with their dead. Would he be buried, cremated? Would there be a grave, or some sort of memorial? I had to know. I made myself ask.
“What will happen to Commander Thor’s body?”
Myton blinked twice, a sure sign of a puzzled Asgard. “It will be recycled.” He said it as if it was the only possible reply.
Recycled? My stomach churned and I decided that I didn’t need any more answers. I didn’t want to be here for that. I was about to ask to be sent back to Earth, when Myton continued.
“Now, would you follow me?” He gave me no chance to refuse, leaving the room at what to the Asgard was almost a run. Within a few seconds he was opening the door to another room, this time lined with machinery.
“Please place your hand inside this opening.” He indicated a small grey box, a hole just large enough for a hand on the top. Another Asgard stood in front of some controls, seemingly concentrating on the incomprehensible readings shown on the screens.
I stepped back. “Why?”
Three blinks this time. “I don’t understand. Why do you hesitate? Commander Thor does not have much time left. This is a great honour.”
It must be something to do with the funeral. Perhaps my putting my hand in the box activates something and starts the recycling process.
Perhaps not.
I wanted answers.
I bent down and looked Myton in the eye. “You have to explain what is going on. I really don’t understand.” And that was the understatement of the century.
“Did not Commander Thor explain?”
“No, he didn’t.” I shook my head, frustration beginning to increase the ache in my hand and face.
Myton straightened up to his full height, an air of wonder in his voice. “Commander Thor left instructions that your DNA be included in his new body.”
The strength left my legs and I found myself bracing myself against a shelf, trembling. I could hardly bring myself to hope that what I had heard was true. “His new body?”
“Do you need assistance, General?” Myton was looking very anxious.
“Is Thor alive?”
“We were able to preserve his consciousness, if that’s what you mean, but we must move quickly. The transfer must be started as soon as possible to prevent loss of data. Unfortunately it will be some time before his new body can be grown, so I have been given control of the fleet until it is ready.” He crouched beside me, and I only then realised I was sitting on the floor. “I am sorry, General O’Neill. We thought you knew this, or we would have contacted you sooner. Our scientists have determined that the mingling of your DNA with Commander Thor’s will result in a stronger and more viable body. It is not the solution to our problems, but it will help regenerate the body much faster than would otherwise be possible.”
I felt light headed and short of breath. Hours without sleep hit all at once, and I could only think one thought.
Thor was alive.
It didn’t matter how long it took for his new body to grow.
I pushed myself up, Myton’s bony hand helping me, and staggered to the box. With a nod to the Asgard waiting patiently at the controls, I thrust my left hand into the opening. As heat enveloped my hand and spread up my body, I smiled.
As soon as I got home, I’d ask the Doc for some of her happy juice and I would sleep for days.
Ba’al was dead and Thor was alive.
I had been given a second chance.
The End
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A Stargate: SG-1 Fanfiction Site
Failing Expectations – General Jack Year 1 Part 17
by FlatkatsiStory Bemerkung:
I wrote this during Season 7 of the show and it deviates from canon, but the story does return to follow canon as closely as possible in later parts.Site Navigation
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