Read Online STARGATE SG-1: Do No Harm by Karen Miller - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Miller
Tags: Science-Fiction
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God knows why, I care what happens to you.”
Jack took another slug of beer. “There is no crossfire, Daniel.”
“Give it time.”
“You sound damned sure.”
“Ah —
how
long have I known you?”
“Right now I’m thinking
too
long,” said Jack. His smile was brittle. “Daniel, you’ve wasted your afternoon. I have no problem with David Dixon. In fact I’m grateful he’s coming, given how short-handed we are.”
He felt himself blink. “You’re grateful?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not worried he’s going to try and talk to you about Cromwell? About what happened last year? You’re not worried he might have… I don’t know…
issues?
”
With an impatient sigh Jack put down his half-emptied beer bottle on the nearest side table. “No, Daniel. David Dixon is a professional soldier.
I
am a professional soldier. Professional soldiers live in the present. We focus on life-and-death matters of immediate concern. We leave the navel-gazing and the hand wringing and the frolicking down Memory Lane to people like
you
.”
Well, it wasn’t surprising but still, it stung. “People like me?”
“Yeah.
Academics
.”
He said the word as though it were an obscenity. And to Jack it usually was, particularly at times — like this one — when irritation became anger. Swallowing resigned disappointment, Daniel stood.
“Okay. I had something to say and I’ve said it, so I’ll go. Unless there was anything you wanted to add?”
“Right now,” said Jack, “the only thing I feel like adding is my boot to your butt.”
He shook his head. “Yeah. This went well. I’m really glad I dropped by. Have a nice evening, Jack. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the memorial.”
Was that a cheap shot? He couldn’t tell. He was too busy being pissed at Jack, who refused to recognize a helping hand when it was shoved in his face.
But then he did feel bad, because the combative light was gone from Jack’s eyes. Instead he looked tired and sad. “The memorial. Yeah.”
Daniel pulled a face. “Way too many.”
“Yeah. So Daniel, when I say I welcome help from any quarter believe I mean it. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He headed for the door, but stopped and looked back when Jack spoke again.
“I’m fine, Daniel. Honestly. But… thanks for asking.”
It was a huge concession. Not one Jack made lightly or often. It was his ability to admit fault in the midst of utter bastardry that kept their volatile friendship alive.
He nodded. “You’re welcome, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter Four
Jake Andrews had been a popular man. Gregarious, cheerful, the first to volunteer and the last to give up. The gate room was crowded for his memorial service. At least one representative from every available team and every SGC department stood strictly to attention in immaculate dress uniform, stoically determined not to break down. Some were more successful than others. The service was piped through the base for those who couldn’t physically attend.
Janet Fraiser, representing the medical staff, pristine in her dress blues, held her grief at bay as General Hammond spoke briefly, eloquently, on the making and receiving of great sacrifices. So many services of late, yet he always found something important to say. Ariel Lee, on crutches, delivered the eulogy and with Lieutenant Esposito sent a wreath through the shimmering, hungry wormhole.
A small distance away Janet could feel Jack’s muted angry sorrow, Sam’s struggle for composure. Close beside Sam stood Daniel. How must he be feeling, yet another funeral service so soon after burying Sha’re? Teal’c betrayed nothing, but she knew he felt Jake’s loss keenly.
We can’t kee p doing this. We can’t keep saying goodbye. Either we’ll go numb… or we’ll fall apart. Either way it’s disaster
.
To her surprise and cautious approval Colonel David Dixon attended the service, standing at the rear of the gathered group. Discreetly watching him,
Jack took another slug of beer. “There is no crossfire, Daniel.”
“Give it time.”
“You sound damned sure.”
“Ah —
how
long have I known you?”
“Right now I’m thinking
too
long,” said Jack. His smile was brittle. “Daniel, you’ve wasted your afternoon. I have no problem with David Dixon. In fact I’m grateful he’s coming, given how short-handed we are.”
He felt himself blink. “You’re grateful?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not worried he’s going to try and talk to you about Cromwell? About what happened last year? You’re not worried he might have… I don’t know…
issues?
”
With an impatient sigh Jack put down his half-emptied beer bottle on the nearest side table. “No, Daniel. David Dixon is a professional soldier.
I
am a professional soldier. Professional soldiers live in the present. We focus on life-and-death matters of immediate concern. We leave the navel-gazing and the hand wringing and the frolicking down Memory Lane to people like
you
.”
Well, it wasn’t surprising but still, it stung. “People like me?”
“Yeah.
Academics
.”
He said the word as though it were an obscenity. And to Jack it usually was, particularly at times — like this one — when irritation became anger. Swallowing resigned disappointment, Daniel stood.
“Okay. I had something to say and I’ve said it, so I’ll go. Unless there was anything you wanted to add?”
“Right now,” said Jack, “the only thing I feel like adding is my boot to your butt.”
He shook his head. “Yeah. This went well. I’m really glad I dropped by. Have a nice evening, Jack. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the memorial.”
Was that a cheap shot? He couldn’t tell. He was too busy being pissed at Jack, who refused to recognize a helping hand when it was shoved in his face.
But then he did feel bad, because the combative light was gone from Jack’s eyes. Instead he looked tired and sad. “The memorial. Yeah.”
Daniel pulled a face. “Way too many.”
“Yeah. So Daniel, when I say I welcome help from any quarter believe I mean it. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He headed for the door, but stopped and looked back when Jack spoke again.
“I’m fine, Daniel. Honestly. But… thanks for asking.”
It was a huge concession. Not one Jack made lightly or often. It was his ability to admit fault in the midst of utter bastardry that kept their volatile friendship alive.
He nodded. “You’re welcome, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter Four
Jake Andrews had been a popular man. Gregarious, cheerful, the first to volunteer and the last to give up. The gate room was crowded for his memorial service. At least one representative from every available team and every SGC department stood strictly to attention in immaculate dress uniform, stoically determined not to break down. Some were more successful than others. The service was piped through the base for those who couldn’t physically attend.
Janet Fraiser, representing the medical staff, pristine in her dress blues, held her grief at bay as General Hammond spoke briefly, eloquently, on the making and receiving of great sacrifices. So many services of late, yet he always found something important to say. Ariel Lee, on crutches, delivered the eulogy and with Lieutenant Esposito sent a wreath through the shimmering, hungry wormhole.
A small distance away Janet could feel Jack’s muted angry sorrow, Sam’s struggle for composure. Close beside Sam stood Daniel. How must he be feeling, yet another funeral service so soon after burying Sha’re? Teal’c betrayed nothing, but she knew he felt Jake’s loss keenly.
We can’t kee p doing this. We can’t keep saying goodbye. Either we’ll go numb… or we’ll fall apart. Either way it’s disaster
.
To her surprise and cautious approval Colonel David Dixon attended the service, standing at the rear of the gathered group. Discreetly watching him,
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