Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 (36 page)

he pigheaded Irish had manhandled her off the planet, without
giving her time to do any proper research. Of course, she should
have known better than to complain to his superior as soon as she'd
popped through the hula hoop. The General had had the nerve to insist
that she go and see a doctor. Aforementioned doctor was a pint-size
martinet who'd prescribed twelve hours of rest for everybody and
possessed the indelicacy to suggest that the Professor could do with
losing a few pounds.

In protest, Dr. Siobhan Kelly had ordered pancakes, scrambled
eggs, sausages, and hash browns for breakfast. The good news was
that she'd met this nice, inquisitive colonel. He'd been behind her in
the breakfast queue.

"So, Professor," the nice colonel enquired eagerly. "You're saying
Jack O'Neill got his a-... I mean, hisself... kidnapped by those Roman
pirates and then he got -"

Suddenly the nice colonel cut himself off and peered past her, head
hunched between his shoulders. Kelly turned in the direction he was
staring and spotted the obstreperous colonel sauntering away from the
food counter, a mug of coffee in his hands.

"Coo-ee!" She waved. "Over here, duckie!"

Several heads snapped around and faces flushed with suppressed
chortles as Colonel O'Neill spilled his coffee and swore. Then he
marched over.

"Professor... What a wonderful start to my day!" He glowered at
her companion. "Don't let me interrupt you, Reynolds. Didn't realize
you jarheads were interested in archaeology."

"It's been an education. Sadly, I have to go." The nice colonel
grinned and rose. "Ma'am, thank you very much."

"My pleasure, young man."

O'Neill's glower deepened. "What did you

"Don't sweat it, Jack. Happens to all flyboys." The nice colonel
patted his fellow officer's shoulder and made for the exit, shouting,
"Next time don't be shy. Just ask Doc Fraiser for scopolamine patches."

" Sco " He briefly glared at Kelly, spun around, and hollered at the
receding back, "Reynolds!"

The nice colonel turned. "Yes... duckie?"

"One word and you're a dead man! I know where you live!"

With a happy little wave Colonel Reynolds swaggered from the
commissary. His comrade-in-arms slumped into a chair and groaned.

"You told him I got seasick."

Kelly smirked. Served him right. If they'd stayed on Tyros, she
wouldn't have met that nice, inquisitive colonel, would she now?

"He was very sympathetic."

"Sympathetic? He's a Marine, for cryin' out loud!"

"So?"

Suddenly he shook his head and smiled. "God help me, Kelly, I'll
probably miss you..."

"I'm not leaving yet." Kelly took a sip of tea and tried to sound
casual. "By the way, McGillicuddle and Walters claim that, during the
ceremony, Mithraic initiates are -"

"Ah!" He peeked at her over the rim of his coffee mug. "I told you
I'm not allowed."

"Oh for goodness' sake! Stop being so prissy! It's not like they'll
ever -

"Hi, Jack." Jackson steered towards their table, his timing atrocious,
as always. "Morning, Professor."

"Hrmph," she said.

Without meeting the recipient's gaze, Jackson delivered his
message. "The General wants a word before the debrief, Jack. He's
in his office."

"And this conversation was just getting interesting... Sorry,
Professor." He didn't look sorry in the slightest, leaped to his feet, and
handed his mug to Jackson. "Have a coffee on me, Daniel."

Jackson watched as O'Neill made his escape. Finally he sat down,
rather more glum and taciturn than usual and still holding on to the
mug.

"Cheer up! You'll be rid of me in a few days."

"What?" He blinked and tried to shake off the cobwebs. "So you're
leaving?"

"Fun as it was, I think I'm a little too... mature." Kelly toyed
with her teacup. This was difficult. She didn't like eating humble pie,
especially after a hefty breakfast. "Look, Jackson... I'd like to ask you
a favour."

"A favor? Me?" Well, at least he was grinning now, even if it was a
little smug for her taste.

The blush crawled into her cheeks and up to her ears, and she
coughed. "I know you won't publish anything, else I wouldn't ask. I
guess I'm going to write a monograph or two, revise a few preconceived
notions, as one does. So I was wondering... since you seem to have a
rather solid grasp, scientifically speaking, you understand... I mean, I
can accept it if you say no, and of course I'd give you full credit, but
if you -"

"Jeez! Spit it out, Professor!"

"Oh... uh..." Kelly cleared her throat again and had a nasty
suspicion that she was scarlet by now. "Would you mind letting me
have a copy of your notes?"

"That all?" He laughed softly. "On one condition."

"Condition?"

He wouldn't ask for a public apology, would he?

"You owe me a drink."

"So the Synod has been dissolved?" asked General Hammond.

"That's one way of putting it, sir." Colonel O'Neill sent his pen
into a little spin on the notepad. "Two of the priests came over to the
good guys, and the rest was incinerated in the tower. Together with the
evidence, but I think the women had already seen enough."

"What about the High Priest?"

"Which half, sir?"

Hammond frowned. The debriefing was in its third hour, his coffee
mug was empty, and his sense of humor had endured some knocks,
not least due to Professor Kelly's ceaseless contributions, most of
which revolved around her obvious initiation fetish. The General
would have given a month's salary to have had her excluded from this.
Unfortunately, the `classified' angle hadn't worked this time. After all,
she'd been an active participant in the near-debacle.

"Care to elaborate, Colonel?" he said, a little more sharply than he'd planned.

"Going by what I saw, Kandaulo tried to leave the party on his
god's coattails. Wasn't quite fast enough. He got cut in half by the
ring transporter. So, the bottom part is buried in the ruins somewhere,
and the top part ended up on the mothership. After that, I'm not sure.
Maybe Baal boiled his head."

"If you're worried about the political stability, sir, I don't believe
Kandaulo's presence would have helped," offered Major Carter. "He
was the one who organized the attack on the Tyrean ship. Two birds
with one stone: the potential embarrassment of Abibaal's peace plans
went away, and Kandaulo got to be High Priest. The Phrygians know
about it, and they'd never have trusted him."

"How sure are you of this?"

"Very, General Hammond," said Teal'c. "We sailed on the vessel
they had used in the attack. There was no doubt that it had been in
battle recently. Furthermore, several of the Temple Guards confessed
to having participated."

"So what's going to happen to these people? Provided the two
factions manage to come to an arrangement, who's to say that Baal
won't come back?"

"Ah." The pen went into another spin, counter-clockwise this time,
and Jack O'Neill looked smug. "Ihad anidea, sir. With yourpermission,
I'd like to contact the Asgard. I think there's a good chance of making
P2X 159 a protected planet. The System Lords will probably agree just
to get one over on Baal. He's kept his little social experiment a tad too
quiet, and they won't like that very much."

"Permission granted, son. Anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!"

It took some doing, but George Hammond managed to smother a
wince. He really needed a pit-stop. Given the identity of the speaker,
the pit-stop might just have been postponed indefinitely.

"Yes, Professor?" Hammond made no effort to keep the annoyance
out of his voice.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't appreciate the way my research is being
obstructed. "Dr. Kelly aimed a vitriolic stare across the table at Jack
O'Neill. "I'd like to clarify, once and for all, whether or not Mithraic
initiates are naked and covered in honey during the ceremony."

Colonel O'Neill went bright red, and there was a stifled yelp from
Dr. Jackson. The Colonel's 21C had taken cover behind a notepad,
which was shaking suspiciously. Teal'c's left eyebrow evinced polite
interest.

"Professor, I think you should discuss this privately... Always
provided the Colonel is willing to cooperate. Under the circumstances
I don't think I should force him..." General Hammond decided to
get out before he started guffawing and rose. "Well done, people.
Dismissed."

Somehow Sam and Teal'c had contrived to coax a hissing, spitting
Professor from the briefing room. Jack stood by the window and looked
down at the `gate. It was now or never, Daniel supposed. He'd hoped
to talk to him this morning in the commissary, but Kelly's presence
had put paid to that.

"Jack?"

"Yeah." Fists tucked into pockets, he caught Daniel's reflection in
the glass pane. "You're going to tell me you remember, aren't you?"

So much for broaching the matter gently. By now he should be used
to Jack's opening gambits. They had a tendency of blowing your own
straight out of the water. Daniel swallowed. "How did you know?"

"You mean apart from the deer in the headlights looks?"

"Jack, I -"

"Daniel, you did what you believed was right."

"But it wasn't!"

"Maybe, maybe not. Point is, nobody's ever gonna be able to tell.
There is no straightforward answer." Jack suddenly turned around.
"What I do know is that I'd have gone nuts without you. I'd have
given up. You didn't let me."

"So that's why I'm not inhabiting a nomad tent on Vis Uban?"

"Something like that." A small grin edged over his face and
wandered off again. "Remember what you told me in the infirmary?
That I'd be okay? You were right about that. I will be."

"Yeah. I remember." Daniel smiled. "And you don't want to talk
about it."

"No."