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Waking the Spirit – General Jack Year 2 Part 15

by Flatkatsi
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Waking the Spirit

"Alright T, what's bothering you?" I asked, sitting down on a side bench, shucking my headgear and gloves

"There is nothing wrong, O'Neill"

"Then how come I just kicked your ass?"

Teal’c answered with a raised eyebrow and a look that would have intimidated a lesser man, but being The Man I wasn’t fazed at all.

“Come on, don’t give me that look. What’s up? You can’t tell me you weren’t distracted. When was the last time I beat you?”

“You did not beat me this time, O’Neill. Your punches merely connected lightly with my torso.”

I didn’t bother arguing, figuring that my raised eyebrow was comment enough. We continued undressing in silence, and headed for the showers. The water drumming on the tiles almost drowned out the quiet voice from the next shower stall. Something about Bra’tac? I shook water from my ears and leaned my head around the corner.

“Huh?”

“I was answering your question, O’Neill.”

Okay.

I waited for more, but nothing came except the slap of soap on wet skin. The front of my body was getting cold while the hot water pounded my back, so I retreated and squeezed some shampoo onto my hair.

“He….talk…last time I…” mumble, mutter, inaudible words… I paused for a second, but couldn’t hear any better, so I rubbed my hair harder, preparing to rinse off.

My eyes snapped open involuntarily as I felt the unmistakable presence of another person in my personal space, and I yelped as the shampoo ran into them.

“Are you alright, O’Neill?” Teal’c’s voice rumbled from way too close.

I backed into the corner, frantically wiping my stinging eyes with my hands. “Fine.”

“You were correct, there is something which concerns me. Perhaps we can discuss it?”

What? Here? Now? Of course he chooses the middle of a shower to bare his soul, along with everything else! I felt myself starting to panic, visions of the SG-3 marines coming back from their mission and hitting the showers dancing in my head.

“Sure, just let me get rinsed off and then we can go and find somewhere quiet.” There, diplomatic to a fault.

“Is this not quiet enough?”

I’d swear if I didn’t know better, that he was doing this on purpose.

Is that voices I hear? Crap!

“Soap in my eyes here. Gotta rinse.” And I began a furiously vigorous washing designed to make maximum use of the limited space, elbows out.

There was a slight ‘hmph’.

“Very well. I shall dress and wait for you to finish, O’Neill.”

I cautiously cracked an eye open to confirm he had left, and rapidly finished my shower. A quick dry and I draped a towel around my hips and stepped out to find the change room filled with the members of SG-3.

For some reason the chatter died away completely, replaced by a few smiles and greetings. Teal’c was dressed and waiting, so I quickly changed, attempting to not worry.

As we walked along the corridor to the elevators, I tried to broach the subject that was foremost on my mind without being too obvious about it.

“Ah…T?”

“Yes, O’Neill?”

“Were SG-3 there when you got out of the shower?”

“No, O’Neill. They had not entered the room.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Why do you wish to know?”

I smiled, relieved beyond words. “No reason, just wondered. So, my office?”

He accepted with an inclination of his head.

**********

I settled into my chair with a sigh of contentment. This was my office, and I felt comfortable with everything in it—from the photos hanging on the walls, to the books on the shelves. Even the files on the desk were as familiar as old friends.

Teal’c hadn’t waited for permission, instead slipping into the visitor’s chair as soon as he closed the door. I barely had time to sit back before he spoke.

“I am concerned about Master Bra’tac.”

Last I saw the old Jaffa he was in fine health and as devious as ever.

“Why?”

Teal’c stared me straight in the eyes in that disconcerting way he had when he was worried. “I am not sure.”

Okaaay.

I waited.

He didn’t speak.

After a couple of minutes I decided the direct approach was the best.

“Work with me here, T. I’m not a mind reader you know.”

He shifted uncomfortably, and that in itself was enough to concern me.

“Master Bra’tac was not his normal self when I last visited him.”

“Not ornery and annoying?”

At Teal’c’s disappointed look, I put my hands up in apology and shut up.

“He was quiet, hardly speaking. When I asked how the new recruits he was training were progressing he replied they were ‘fine’.”

Now that was worrying. I had never heard the old Jaffa refer to any of his students as being ‘fine’.

“He spoke of retiring.”

“Retiring? What? Hanging up his staff weapon and gardening?” Although, now I thought about it, he hadn’t been wearing his armor lately, and I hadn’t seen a staff weapon with him when he last visited. Then I had another thought. “Where exactly do Jaffa warriors retire to, T? I haven’t seen a lot of elderly Jaffa scattered around the galaxy, enjoying a quiet time.”

“No, O’Neill.” His voice took on an even more somber tone. “Jaffa warriors do not retire. They die in battle or when their symbiotes mature and another cannot be obtained. Master Bra’tac is the first to reach such an advanced age without a symbiote. I fear he feels he has outlived his usefulness.”

“Well that’s just crap!” I couldn’t imagine anyone less useless.

“I agree, however I do not think that Master Bra’tac does.” He was still giving me that concentrated stare thing, so I knew there was more.

“You have a plan, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Indeed. Would you consider talking to Bra’tac?”

“Me? Why me? He never listens to me.”

That evoked a small smile and a slight shake of the head. “He respects you, O’Neill.” I couldn’t help a snort of surprise, but Teal’c continued. “Plus you have a lot in common. Your perspective on withdrawing from combat may be very valuable.”

Withdrawing from combat? What the heck was he talking about? My situation was nothing like Bra’tac’s. I was right in the heart of things. Facing danger on a daily basis.

I felt like a hypocrite even as I thought it.

With a deep, and heartfelt sigh, I nodded. “I’ll have to get the okay from the President, but I don’t see that being a problem. And I’ll need a couple of days to clear my schedule.” I opened my laptop, checking my daily calendar to see what meetings I could move. “Shall we say Tuesday? Afternoon?”

And that was just sad. I was slotting my friend’s concerns neatly in between meetings and paperwork. When had my priorities gotten so mixed up?

I shut the laptop and looked Teal’c in the eye. “I’ll call the President now, and should be ready to go in an hour.”

**********

And so I found myself stepping down from the gate and onto PSX-655, the most recent Jaffa training site.

I can’t say I had a particularly warm welcome. Teal’c and I had decided it was better if I went alone, and walking through that camp I had the distinct impression that it would have been much easier if I had my friend with me. The looks of assessment and then disregard would have been demoralizing if I hadn’t already concluded that the average age of the recruits was about that of Rya’c. Just kids.

It didn’t take me long to find Bra’tac, sitting, watching a bout between two young men as others looked on.

He stood as I approached.

“O’Neill.”

“Bra’tac.”

I spotted a few frowns from the listening youngsters, but I’m not about to start calling anyone ‘master’ at my stage in life.

He gestured for me to take a seat beside him, and I joined him in sitting cross-legged on the ground, back against a tree trunk, all the while wondering what possible objection the Jaffa—and for that matter most other alien races we encountered—had to chairs.

“What brings you here, O’Neill?” He had his eyes on the fight as he spoke, but I noted he didn’t react when one of the boys made an obvious mistake, enabling his opponent to take the advantage and sprawl him face down in the dust.

“I felt like enjoying some time offworld. Thought I’d come and see how you were doing.”

He glanced at me for a moment before nodding to another pair to begin. “As you see, I am doing well.”

“How are the new kids?”

“Fine.”

“Keeping you busy?”

This time it was more of a glare. “Do you have something you wish to say to me, O’Neill?”

I shook my head, well aware of the ears listening to every word. “Nope, just being polite.”

Suddenly I found myself looking up at the old man as he jumped to his feet in a move that would have made a younger man envious.

“Then let us stop being polite with each other.”

I stared nonplussed at his back as he walked off, heading for the trees.

He didn’t pause, throwing his next words back over his shoulder. “Well, are you coming?”

Getting to my feet, a little less dramatically than Bra’tac and with a lot more creaking, I hurried after him.

We walked rapidly along a path until we reached a clearing some distance from the camp. I finally managed to catch up with him, mainly because he stopped.

He moved to the attack immediately.

“Did Teal’c send you?”

I straightened, looking down my nose. “I’m the General. No one sends me anywhere.” Then I hesitated and decided to qualify that statement just a little. “Except the President. And the Joint Chiefs. And maybe Hammond. Okay, so I get sent places by people all the time. But not Teal’c. I send Teal’c, not the other way around…”

“Stop babbling, human.”

Babbling! Babbling! I do not babble. And I see we’re back to ‘human’ again. This was going well.

I decided that honesty was the best policy.

“He’s worried about you.”

“And he sent you?”

Now, that was clearly an insult and I was beginning to get pissed.

“Yes. For some reason he thought I might be able to talk to you, goodness knows why.” I turned my back and kicked a stone clear across to the nearest tree, where it hit with a satisfying ’whack’.

“I have no desire to talk to you. I have better things to do,” His tone was dismissive, and if there was anything designed to make my hackles rise it’s being dismissed. I spun and strode across the few feet separating us, right up into his face.

Then I poked my finger in his chest.

“What? Like sit around watching kids going through the motions without giving any guidance? Feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Don’t like being the old man for real, eh? No one looking up to you anymore, is that it? You just going to give up?”

“Like you?”

And he pushed me.

Hard.

I regained my balance and stepped up again. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“How many times have you been out of that little room you hide in lately? You have to ask permission to go through the chap’pai like some child they are afraid will get hurt. Teal’c has told me you spend all your days writing on papers. Where is the great Tau’ri warrior O’Neill now? Is he too old to come out of his hole or merely too afraid?”

I admit that what I did next could be considered, in some circles, to be very stupid.

“Not as afraid as you are, old man.”

Next thing I knew I was face down on the ground, grass and twigs up my nose, and the weight of a wiry ancient and decrepit Jaffa on my back. Using all my skill, I twisted, throwing him off and rolled just in time to avoid a foot in my groin.

He wasn’t playing.

We both regained our feet and began circling, watching each other’s eyes.

“There was a time when you would be dead by now, human, your neck snapped.”

I jumped as he swept his leg up in a wide circular motion, and countered with a high kick that he easily blocked.

“How can I teach young warriors the skills I no longer have?”

His elbow connected with my ribs and I stifled a yell, using my forearm to block and strike back.

“Getting old isn’t a crime.”

“It is if you have become nothing but an object of scorn.”

I dropped him with a well placed jumping kick to the chest, but he was up before I could follow through.

“You have more experience in your little finger than all the other Jaffa combined. Don’t you think that counts for something?”

“Tell me something, General. How does it make you feel to know you are seen more as a liability in battle than an asset?”

We circled and I attempted to slow my breathing.

“Frustrated. But I’m not ready to throw in the towel.”

He frowned in obvious confusion and I grabbed his left arm, tossing him over my shoulder. We ended up on the grass, me on top. Bra’tac made a halfhearted attempt to throw me off, and then lay back, his eyes closed.

“You can get off me, O’Neill. I am finished.”

I slid sideways, lying beside him, my ribs hurting and sweat running into my eyes. He remained still. I expected him to have some move ready for when I lowered my guard, but he seemed to have just given up – something I never expected to see from this man, despite my previous words.

“This wasn't exactly what Teal'c had in mind when he suggested this you know."

"Teal'c still has a lot to learn."

"Perhaps, but he was right. And I don't think you give him, or yourself, enough credit. But again, that's just what this 'human' thinks."

After a few minutes he propped himself up on one elbow and gave me a look that reminded me for the first time that day of the Jaffa I had come to admire over the years.

“Come, let us return to the camp. We will speak of this no more.”

**********

We had gone only a few yards when the first Death Glider strafed the clearing, the trail of the ship’s passing shown in deadly bursts of fire flaring near enough to our running figures to feel the heat. A second ship crossed the path of the first, turning to come in even lower, and, as one, we dropped, rolling into a small ditch, our heads down and covered.

The massive explosion flung me sideways and I came to a sudden halt against something hard as dirt and wood rained down.

“O’Neill. We must move.”

God! Give me a minute here.

Then I realized Bra’tac was right. We didn’t have a minute. Those Death Gliders would be back to make sure of us any second now.

I moved.

We ran for the trees and made it just in time, throwing ourselves flat once more as another explosion rent the air. When I raised my head to look all I could see of the clearing was a massive crater, smoke rising from the mangled dirt.

Feeling the need to say something, even if it was stating the obvious, I muttered a soft “That was close.”

Bra’tac didn’t reply, content with merely raising his eyes a little. I didn’t blame him. Explosions continued in the distance, as the ships carried on with their deadly work.

“Will you be able to follow me to the camp?”

I had no idea what he meant until I began to raise myself up and my arm collapsed under me.

“Crap!”

I struggled up again, Bra’tac’s hands doing most of the work, and together we shuffled me back to lean against a thin and very uncomfortable tree. The top of my right sleeve was burn away, exposing red, raw flesh in a large wound stretching down almost to my elbow. I grimaced, realizing how lucky I’d been to escape with what must have been just a glancing blow.

Bra’tac tutted, sitting back on his heels. “I will send word to the SGC as soon as I am able. Remain here.”

He had already begun to rise when I grabbed a handful of his robes, yanking him back.

“What are you planning on doing?”

“I shall rescue any of my charges that survive.” And with that he was off again.

“Hey! Not without me you won’t.” I lurched to my feet, leaning my left shoulder against the tree. “I can fire a weapon just as well with my left hand as my right. Give me a minute to put a bandage around this and I’ll be ready.” I saw his hesitation, and continued. “You can’t do this alone. You need backup.”

He gave a terse nod. “Very well.”

Working one handed I took a bandage from a vest pocket. Bra’tac watched for a moment as I struggled to hold it on the appropriate spot. After I sprinkled some antiseptic powder in the burn, he took the bandage from me without a word, efficiently binding my arm. Keeping with his desire for silence, I nodded my thanks, and we set off, staying low and alert for enemy troops. The wound was becoming more painful with every step. Given the circumstances, there wasn’t much else I could do but ignore it, so I gritted my teeth and managed to keep up with the fast moving Jaffa.

It didn’t take long to reach the camp site, and we halted just inside the line of trees. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The few buildings and tents were in ruins, bodies or what remained of them, scattered on the ground around them.

I tried to see the symbol on the Jaffa searching the debris, but couldn’t get a clear enough view to identify it. The only positive thing about the situation was the small group of young trainees being herded together. At least some of Bra’tac’s students had survived.

Now we just needed to rescue them.

Simple.

I turned to the old man. “Plan?”

“They will be taken back to the false god’s base to be used as examples. They will die a painful and lingering death. We will free them before this happens.”

Yeah, well – excellent!

“I repeat – plan?”

He continued to watch the scene as he answered. “I will divert their attention, while you free my men. You will then make a run for the chap’pai and take them to Earth.”

He never changed.

“And yet again I repeat – plan?”

This time he looked at me, that glare he used so effectively on everyone else bouncing off my thick skin.

“I’ll tell you what, how about I suggest a plan and you can ignore it – okay?” I didn’t wait for him to comment, continuing straight on. “I have some C4 here.” I patted my vest. “I’ll go plant it somewhere.” I looked around, then grinned, pointing. “What say that troop ship there goes boom? You sneak up to where the kids are…you can sneak, can’t you?” I had my doubts, sneaking not being a normal Jaffa ability, but I carried on anyway. “And when it all goes bang, take out the bad guys and head for the gate. Don’t shut the door too soon, I’ll be right behind you.”

He grunted. “Somewhat simplistic, is it not?”

“And your plan wasn’t?”

He grunted again, and I’m sure I saw a slight upward twist of his lips. “Very well.” He gave me a calculating look. “Are you sure you are up to it?”

I pulled my P-90 from my shoulder, switching it to the other side. “As up to it as you are, old man.”

**********

Creeping closer, I was able to make out their tattoos, but it did me little good except to confirm their boss wasn’t one of the big chiefs in the snake world. The wiggly scrawl across their foreheads meant nothing to me, but I noted it so I could draw it for Daniel later. He might have some clue who the new kid on the block was.

I did know one thing - these Jaffa were cocky. They must have figured all opposition was eliminated, only setting a few widely spaced perimeter guards. I took out the two nearest the ship with my knife, collecting a handy zat on the way – much lighter than my own weapon, and easier to operate one handed. Leaving the C4 stuck to the hull in three spots, and knowing we didn’t have much time before it went up, I hurried towards the enclosure that had been set up to house the kids. No way was I going to leave Bra’tac without backup.

Following the trail of bodies that marked his path, I arrived just in time.

I had spotted Bra’tac when the alarm went up. Shouts and running footsteps heralded the arrival of the Jaffa, and I made it to his side, turning to protect his back as he opened the enclosure. This was a job for the P-90 and I let it do what it did best, cutting down the approaching warriors while the youngsters ran for the exit. I took a moment to toss one the zat I had liberated from its owner, before carrying on with my deadly work.

“O’Neill, they are out!”

He didn’t need to explain. I took off running, firing backwards as I went, relying on Bra’tac to clear the way forward.

It’s always amazed me how quickly things seem to happen when you’re fighting for your life. The pain in my arm as I held my weapon hardly impinged on my consciousness as I concentrated on two things: not falling over and hitting my targets. The shouting was loud in my ears, the cries of the falling warriors louder still, and the smell of death everywhere. When my ammunition ran out, I pulled my knife, slashing at anything that came near me. Others fighting beside me used any weapons they could find. Staff blasts hit one of my fellow fighters and I managed a quick look down at him as he fell, seeing the hole in his chest and knowing that I could do nothing for him.

We reached the gate, and I heard the thump as it dialed. Grabbing my GDO, I keyed in the code and shouted a “Go!”

A staff weapon opened fire alongside of me as Bra’tac slipped into position at my right shoulder, guarding my weak side, and we moved up the steps together.

**********

“Close the iris!”

My shout was accompanied by a staff blast hitting the wall, and the huge metal shield shut with a clang.

The gate room seemed filled with people, the young rebel Jaffa looking dazed as they were helped out, their injuries being accessed by medical personnel as they left. I could see Daniel and Teal’c pushing their way through the crowd, both looking anxious. I glanced up to find Carter’s worried face staring down at me from the Control Room.

Doctor Warner was heading in my direction, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes, and I looked down at myself. My uniform was covered in blood, mostly not mine fortunately, but I couldn’t deny that my uselessly hanging right arm was a grisly sight. I looked up again, catching Bra’tac’s eye.

He grinned.

“You fight well, O’Neill – for an old man.”

I grinned back, aware that we probably looked somewhat odd, grinning at each other like this. “You didn’t do too badly yourself – for an old man.”

The doctor reached me as the Jaffa master replied.

“Not so old after all. I have decided.”

The End
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