Jacob missed stick time.
He missed the living vibrations that thrummed beneath his fingers as he manipulated the joystick of the F-100D and absorbed information from the CDP with practiced calm. He missed that heart stopping moment when he broke through low-lying scud to see the ground perilously close, disaster only averted by skill and reflexes. And, perhaps most of all, he missed that glorious instant when he tore loose from the clouds' gray embrace to see splendid, vast stretches of lonely sky.
He'd slogged through his share of ground work, to be sure, but he'd never been happier than the time spent in the cramped cockpit of the sturdy fighter, pushing 750 knots, feeling the power at his fingertips. There were times he grieved or raged, but he never doubted he'd made the right choice in serving his country and defending her.
He wanted that for his Sam. He wanted her to experience that surge of freedom at abandoning earth, even as g-forces press her solidly against the seat of her craft. He longed for her to share that awed wonder that left a pilot both exalted and humbled, and he'd never been prouder when she followed him into the Air Force, even if he never quite told her. So if he could pull a couple of strings to get her into the ultimate flight program... Well, what was the harm in that?
He felt more than anger and frustration when she turned down his offer to get her into NASA; her rejection was nothing less than absolute betrayal. He wasn't above trying a little manipulation, but even that didn't convinced her to leave her "deep space telemetry" and follow her father into the splendor of the skies.
Then George Hammond turned up in his hospital room with his little girl, and they presented him with a chance for a new lease on life - even if it did come with a rather unusual tenant written into the contract. Surprise at the sudden reversal of Sam offering him a chance at fresh wonders didn't stop him from seizing the opportunity with both hands.
He was Tok'ra now, with a symbiote parked comfortably against his spine, and that first tumultuous journey through the Stargate had been only the beginning. He watched tunnels form themselves of crystal, stepped from one planet to the other in the space of an eye blink, and used weapons and devices that should have left him gasping with disbelief. It felt like cheating, sometimes, to find himself manipulating crystals on a console and recognize that such unthinking skill had been suddenly hardwired into his brain through no effort of his own. But the voice he carried in the back of his head could bicker and tease and comfort and question in turns, and it surprised him, when he stopped to think about it, how natural Selmac felt to him.
Still, even with all his new experiences, despite the wonders of a thousand different planets and races, he missed stick time. Stargates might be faster, but the thrill just wasn't the same. He knew it was ridiculous to feel earthbound when he stood no alien soil, but he couldn't help it. A flyboy to the bone, he supposed. Even Selmac couldn't change that.
He was fingering a crystal and thinking about the past when Selmac absorbed his wistful emotions and offered images of some of the craft used in the worlds beyond Earth. The hatak and the udajeet intrigued Jacob as Selmac described the massive Goa'uld motherships and their deadly little fighters.
Do the Tok'ra possess such ships? Jacob asked.
No, they do not, Selmac replied. We have never managed to gain a hatak, and the udajeet isn't a true long-range craft that can be sustained without mothership support. We have also recently learned of a new paranoia of the System Lords that renders even the capture of a single craft too dangerous to consider.
Jacob mulled this over, stifling a surge of regret. The udajeet didn't exactly have a CDP to master, but Selmac's memories of flying one in a previous host sounded remarkably similar to his own experiences with various fighter craft back on Earth. Too bad he wouldn't have the chance to try out one of those babies himself.
On the other hand... Selmac let the words linger coyly in Jacob's brain.
Yes?
The Tok'ra do have a few tel'tak and al'kesh - scout ships and mid-range bombers, I think you would call them. They are not quite as small and maneuverable as the udajeet, but you would enjoy piloting them.
Jacob blinked at the images that blossomed in his mind, the knowledge and expertise to fly the ships suddenly there. It was true, as Selmac said, that the tel'tak didn't seem quite as tempting as the two-man udajeet. The larger al'kesh was even less similar, despite its fighting capabilities. But both required careful piloting, and were superbly maneuverable and hyperspace capable....
Hmmmm.
There has been talk of a possible stealth mission to prevent a minor Goa'uld from establishing a beachhead on a planet only a day's travel from Earth, Selmac mentioned. Perhaps we might claim the mission ourselves, after our scheduled investigation of Sokar's movements.
I think I'd like that, Jacob said. Then, Thank you.
And for just a moment, he gripped the crystal in his hands like a joystick, and remembered what it felt like to fly.
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