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 "Well, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
'Cause I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)"

Casey was standing in front of the white board that had just been placed in the hallway outside the 'gate room. A chat with Annika Jackson had spurred the idea; Annika had insisted she couldn’t cope with the influx of information she received via her gift of sight, without a place to write it down and keep it organized. So, after a discussion with Sam…and Daniel…regarding the situation, she had requested a place where she could jot down warnings for any teams embarking on missions. Any member from any of the teams could check the white board before leaving, making certain that they had the most 'up-to-date' information possible. And given her own hectic schedule, she no longer had to race from one level of the SGC to another, frantically searching for members of any particular team, hoping to catch them before they left; or racing down to the 'gate room, praying she didn't arrive too late to impart a last minute tidbit of information.

At that particular moment, however, it was the lack of information that was bothering her. She was chewing on the cap of the marker in her hand, staring at the board, mentally reaching out, trying to will more information into her brain.

"Anything for SG-15, Mrs. J?" a voice asked, just loudly enough to interrupt her train of thought.

"Hmm?" The seer turned to face the newcomer. "Oh, hi, Bots."

Sergeant Sonny Botcelli gave her a nervous smile. "Just wonderin' if there was anything new for 15. We're getting ready to head out," the dark-haired, dark-eyed man explained, pointing his with Kevlar helmet, (which she'd only just learned from Jack was classified as a 'tactical ballistic helmet', whatever that actually meant, she thought fleetingly,) toward the 'gate room.

She glanced into the 'gate room. The klaxons were wailing, a sound to which she'd become accustomed. In fact, she was so used to hearing it go off at random times that only the initial blast caused her to jump now. If she knew that it was just a team leaving or arriving, she had become adept in simply tuning out the annoying racket. She'd been so deep in thought she'd not actually heard the alarm. She watched for a moment as the fourth chevron was locked in. "Sorry, Bots, guess I was just a bit distracted there," Casey admitted.

"That's all right ma'am. Especially if it's not about us," the sergeant grinned cheekily.

"Nope, not picking up a thing for you guys. Just the same was we talked about during the briefing."

The man's grin widened. "Boring, I believe is the term you used."

"Got cards?"

"Yep," Bots replied, patting his vest pocket.

Casey giggled. "Pinochle?"

"It's always entertaining watching Sue whip the colonel's ass,' Bots chuckled.

Her giggles morphed into a full-throated laugh. Colonel Thomas had taught his team the card game, certain that he'd be the nightly winner when they were on missions. Doctor Susan Daly, one of the SGC's three sociologists and the only female member of SG-15, had become legendary in her ability to beat the colonel on a regular basis. "Well, have fun."

Bots, still grinning, nodded as he turned toward the 'gate room. "Will do."

She watched as he joined his teammates in front of the window to the control room. She heard General Hammond's 'send off ', then watched as the team walked up the ramp to disappear into the event horizon. As soon as the shimmering blue expanse had closed with its customary hiss, she turned back to the whiteboard. There were half a dozen notes already; each prefaced by the team designation, then followed with a message. Three of the messages contained little more than a list of three or four words. Not much to go on, she sighed. Frowning in concentration, she once again tried to pull more information into her mind. There had to be more there, she was certain.

"Ah, Casey," General Hammond's voice cut through her preoccupation.

"Hello, sir."

"More intel?" the general asked, noting her position beside the board.

"I wish," she murmured. She pointed to one of the messages. "It's too vague. How can it be of any use?"

Hammond smiled. Casey Jackson had a habit of focusing only on what she considered to be failures, often not recognizing her miraculous ability to keep the SG teams from danger. "I rather imagine once the team is planet-side, the message will make sense."

She stared at the words. 'Blue'. 'Wet'. 'Sweet'. 'Avoid'. "It would help to know if this is about blue water, like a lake or a river or an ocean, or, given the word 'sweet', maybe a vat of moonshine or something. And I'm not even sure if it's the blue, the wet, or the sweet that should be avoided!"

The general stepped closer, frowning slightly. "I suppose that the team will just avoid anything blue, wet, or sweet. That should keep them from any danger."

"Oh, I hope so," Casey sighed. She cocked her head sideways, straining to hear the barely there whisper. Finally! she thought, with not a little ire. "Drink. It's a drink. Not ceremonial." She pulled the cap from the dry erase pen and hastily wrote out a single sentence. 'Do not accept the drink at the bar.'

"There, see, I knew you'd figure it out," Hammond said, smiling warmly.

She flashed a smile. "I'm pretty sure it's because of your faith in me. I'm not sure I'd have seen that otherwise."

Hammond shook his bald head. "You would have seen it," he declared. "You always find what the teams need."

Memories of her failures – the times she'd not seen something important, or twice when she'd misinterpreted what she'd seen – flashed through her memory, filling her expressive green eyes with pain.

"You're not omnipotent, Casey," Hammond reminded her gently. "We don't expect a minute-by-minute itinerary. What you offer is above and beyond what the teams would have if you weren't here."

"Thanks," she replied softly. The battle she struggled with wasn't a new one. It was, in fact, something she'd struggled with from the first time she'd seen danger for the SGC, and SG-1 in particular. Her fear of not seeing 'enough', not seeing vital information soon enough, haunted her daily. I'm the damned SGC seer, I should see a hell of a lot more than I do, she thought. She bit back her frustrated sigh.

"Those of us here at the SGC will be forever in your debt," Hammond continued. "Your skills are nothing short of amazing."

The smile that spread across her face was genuine. "Thanks, general. Sometimes-" She gave an embarrassed shrug. "Sometimes…I get frustrated when I can’t see enough. I can only pass on what I get. Sometimes I wish I could pull more from wherever it comes from."

Hammond smiled and patted her shoulder. "You get what we need. I for one will be eternally grateful for that blessing."

She studied the board again. "Well, nothing new is filtering through, so I guess I'd better get back to that database."

"Beth tells me you and Jonas have made impressive headway on it."

"Well, we're pretty sure that we have all the Asian, Indian, Malaysian, Chinese, Middle-Eastern, Nordic, and European gods," she said, counting the societies off on her fingers, "as well as all of the native North American gods from the tribes we can track down. So we're concentrating on South American and Polynesian gods at the moment. With luck, we'll have it done in another week or so."

"I hear that what you have has already been useful," Hammond said.

Casey nodded, a proud smile on her face. "Yep. A couple of the teams were able to use the info we had on one of the Malaysian gods to make friends with the natives on one of the new planets."

"Keep up the good work, Casey."

"Yes, sir," she replied. She snapped off a salute, recognizing the dismissal for what it was, and hurried toward the elevator.

Hammond chuckled as he watched her go. Casey Jackson was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise very drab, often frustrating place. A glance at his watch told him he was running late for his meeting with Colonel Reynolds. The ambassadors visiting from Tegeria would no doubt be finished with their tour by the time the meeting was over. While the actual reason for their visit had already been established, and his interaction wasn’t absolutely necessary, he was certain that he’d be required to meet with the Tegerians at least one more time. With a sigh of his own, Hammond headed for his office.

Daniel looked up when his wife darted into the room. "Hey, Gorgeous."

"Hey, Handsome," Casey replied. "I figured it out."

"Great! Figured out what?"

"The warning for SG-8. All I had was four words. Figured out they need to avoid the free drink from the bar," she explained.

"Well, that's good."

"I hope so," she sighed, and dropped down into the chair behind her desk. Sighed again.

Biting back his smile, Daniel pretended to study the notes on his desk. "Something wrong?"

"Just ticked at Jack. He knows what poison ivy looks like. But he leads Sam right into a mess of it, and then decides to get frisky! I mean, seriously, what was he thinking?"

It was impossible to hold back his chuckle. Jack and Sam had flown to Minnesota to spend a quiet weekend at Jack's cabin. The warm weather and too much to drink had sent the couple into the woods, where upon they'd decided to make love. In the midst of a patch of poison ivy. Their infection and consequent containment in the infirmary had postponed the mission that SG-1 had been assigned to. A mission Casey had been anticipating.

It was a rather special mission: a visit to the Land of Light, to arbitrate an agreement between the Minoans and the Tegerians. Daniel had to smile at the thought of the Tegerians; a society he had negotiated with for more information and technology than any other race had been willing to give the Tau'ri. He was fairly certain that Casey was most upset about missing the once a year fertility ceremony scheduled by the Minoans during the arbitration date.

From his bed in the infirmary, in an attempt to garner forgiveness from the very put-out seer, Jack had made arrangements for all of the Christmas gifts ‘abandoned’ at his cabin in Minnesota to be mailed to Sam’s address. The effort had been in vain. Although Casey had been thrilled that the gifts were soon to arrive, her ire at Jack remained. Daniel barely bit back his chuckle at the memory of the look on Jack’s face when he’d broken the ‘bad’ news to him. Jack was his best friend, and idiot at times, but still…a man had to defend his best friend, right? "Case, it was the middle of the night."

"He said he had a flashlight," Casey retorted.

"Jack also said he and Sam had shared a couple of bottles of wine by that time, too."

"He did it because he hates diplomatic missions. He gets bored."

Daniel snorted. He couldn't argue, she was right. "It wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah? Then why did he look so damned disappointed when General Hammond sent word, and both parties were more than willing to wait until SG-1 could be present?"

"Sam wouldn't have been willing to go with Jack if she thought he was up to something," Daniel pointed out.

"Like Jack was going to say, 'Hey, Sammy baby, let's go find some poison ivy, get naked and get busy'? I think not. Sam would have smacked him upside the head for even thinking about it," Casey huffed.

Daniel hooted with laughter. "Okay, so Jack didn't tell Sam what he had planned. If he actually planned to get poison ivy."

"Oh, he planned it, all right," Casey insisted. "And when I can prove it, I'm gonna blackmail him for the rest of his life."

"He's Immortal, Angel," Daniel pointed out. Her pout had him laughing harder.

"I know that," she replied. "That'll teach him to screw up something I wanna do." The phone on Casey's desk chose that moment to ring. "Jackson. Oh, hello, Jack."

"Of course you didn't," Casey said sarcastically. "Uh huh. Sure. Wait…what? You what? Oh, Jack that's really sweet. Stupid, but sweet. Yeah, I suppose too much wine could make you lose your way in the dark. Yeah, I remember how close together the trees are…uh huh….uh huh. So Sam is already doing better? Well, yeah, she told me it was mostly just her knees and one hand. All the way down there? Yeah, I'm sure it does… Yes, it does sound uncomfortable. Okay, okay, I forgive you. But if I find out you've been jerking my chain, you're never, ever going to live it down. I'll post pictures of you on the internet. And stories of how the great General Jack O'Neill, Special Ops, can't tell the difference between poison ivy and iris plants. Although, crushing flowers just to get it on seems a bit – I dunno – cruel. To the flowers. Oh…beside them. Sure, that makes sense. But if it was dark…right, too much wine. You're supposed to be able to handle your liquor. Right…wine is different. Jack, you're so full of it, you're making this up as you go!…Well, no. But still…" Casey huffed a sigh. "Okay, fine. I believe you, and you're forgiven. Bye, Jack."

Daniel was laughing as quietly as possible as he listened to the call, or at least his wife's part of the conversation. He watched her as she hung up.

"He insists he wanted to make love in the woods by a cluster of iris flowers Sam had noted and commented on earlier in the day when they'd been out walking. He thought he'd impress her with his romantic streak, or so he claims," Casey said. She shook her head. "He says that they'd had two bottles of wine, no dinner, and he thought the flowers were to the right of the path, not the left. And he claims to have poison ivy all the way down his back to the crack of his ass and his upper thighs. He didn't say anything about his balls, but he was implying that 'manly parts' weren't spared from the infection. He swears it's the truth." She crossed her arms over her breasts. "The thing of it is, I can tell he's not lying. Either he's figured out how to fool me, or he seriously screwed up."

By this time, Daniel had to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes. Between the one-sided conversation he’d heard, and Casey's explanation, he couldn't help but roar with laughter.

"We need to go out for lunch," Casey announced.

"Why?"

She gave him smile. "I want to stop at the florist near Piggly-Wiggly and get an iris plant for Jack."

He crossed his arms on top of his desk, buried his face, and continued to laugh. He side was beginning to ache. He mentally made note to never, ever make his wife angry in a way in which she would be determined to seek revenge.

Jack hung up the phone. Surely Radar knew he was telling the truth. After all, why would he intentionally get a bad case of poison ivy? He shifted uncomfortably.

The rash covered him from the back of his neck to the back of his upper thighs. Yeah, he'd been laying in a bed of the stuff all right! Thankfully Sam had escaped with just a minor rash on her knees…the frown morphed to a smile as he remembered how she looked in the moonlight that drifted down through the trees, her blonde hair illuminated like a halo around her head.

It had been one of 'those' moments, when she'd given in to her passion and taken what she wanted. Her body had moved with such abandon, yet such purpose, that he'd been panting within seconds of her mounting him. He'd barely been able to keep control of his own body as she rode him, determined that she'd have her pleasure before he gave in to his own needs. If she hadn't cried out when she had…he shook his head. Her cry of ecstasy, which he could still hear ringing in his ears when he closed his eyes, had brought on his own orgasm. He shivered just thinking about it. Making love with Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter O'Neill was always amazing. Making love with her in the moonlight, near the cabin in Minnesota…that had been damned near spiritual.

He grimaced as a spot on his shoulder began to burn with the need to be scratched. One hand moved toward the annoying spot.

"Don't you dare," a soft voice murmured.

He looked over into Sam's sapphire blue eyes. "It itches."

"I know it does," Sam replied. "You'll make it worse if you scratch."

"Sam, I've been tortured by Iraqi guards. I've been tortured by the most sadistic creatures in existence and their minions. Trust me when I say I can't take this," Jack said quietly. "Just one little scratch."

"Nope. But I will call the nurse to put more calamine lotion on you."

"I've already got the stuff on me two inches thick," the general complained.

"That's an exaggeration," Sam grinned.

"Prove it," he muttered. He glanced at her gloved hand. Then noted that below her carefully tied johnny, both knees had been covered as well. "You couldn't stop scratching either, huh?"

Sam blushed, then grinned and shook her head.

"C'mon, Sam, just one little scratch-"

"If you try, I'll tie your hands down," another voice said, this one from the doorway.

Jack lifted and turned his head. "Doc, this borders on cruel and unusual punishment."

"It does not. You're the one who went rolling around in poison ivy," Janet snickered.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jack muttered beneath his breath. No doubt this incident would haunt him for months to come. Ferretti had already 'visited' him twice, and at least half a dozen other SG team COs had come to the infirmary to laugh at him, all the while declaring they were just making sure he was really 'okay'. The bastards. Who knew what kind of betting pool Ferretti had going about him! He forced his attention back to the Napoleonic little doctor of the SGC as she entered the room.

"However, I just spoke with a representative from Tegeria." The petite doctor made her way to Jack's bed. "It seems they have a salve that works wonders for rashes like yours. She went for a jar of the stuff. Promised that you'll be up and rash free within twenty-four hours."

"Sweet!" Jack declared. He dropped his cheek to the pillow. "Wait a minute, how did-"

Janet grinned from ear to ear. "The general explained that the reason the meeting needed to be rescheduled was because you'd accidentally come into contact with a native plant that causes a severe rash. The representative, I think her name was Daria, asked if we had any cures for the rash. The general said we had lotions to ease the symptoms, but nothing to actually cure it. He offered to let her speak to me, regarding your diagnosis, which she did. Quite a nice woman, actually," Janet said. "They're so tall; extremely gaunt looking though. And those eyes…it was hard not to stare at her-"

"Doc!" Jack whimpered, still shrugging his shoulder in an attempt to pacify the need to scratch, "Get to the point."

"She'll be back within the hour with the salve. She said it does have a side effect or two, but only in extreme cases. She assures me it will get rid of the rash."

"Side effects? Why don't I like the sound of that? What side effects?" Jack wanted to know. Side effects always bite me in the ass, he muttered to himself.

"She was a little vague about that," Janet admitted. "Apparently these side effects are very temporary as well."

"Anything to get some relief," Jack said, closing his eyes. Side effects, even temporary ones, were worth living with, just to stop the itching! He firmly pushed away the memory of the side effects of some of the Tok’ra devices the team and been tricked or coerced into using…like those damned automatic…no, Atoneek…armbands. I almost lost Sam on that friggin’ ship, he thought. Even the memory made his heart pound against his ribs in fear. If those damned things had just worked for a few more minutes…His attention was drawn back to what the doctor was saying.

"…so, I'll let you know as soon as Daria returns," Janet promised.

General Hammond sighed silently. The Tegerian ambassador was sitting quietly across the desk from him, both of them waiting for the return of the ambassador's colleague. Both of the aliens had been plainly surprised that General O'Neill's 'simple' ailment had no 'cure'. Doctor Jackson had reported that the Tegerians were at least as advanced as the Tollans, possibly as advanced as the Nox. The Tegerians, however, didn’t seem to hold the fact that the Tau’ri weren’t as advanced against Earth. In fact, they seemed eager to take on the role of mentor. If that meant they would continue to share their technology, that was fine with him! However, he was still slightly uncomfortable facing a man…an alien, that he knew very little about. Diplomacy was of the utmost importance at the moment, and his lack of knowledge about the Tegerians held his tongue in check. He should have insisted that Doctor Jackson act as the liaison between the aliens and…him, rather than allowing Major Farnsworth to give the Tegerian diplomats a tour of the SGC, and then bring them to his office. Even if they had specifically requested a chance to speak with the commander of the facility.

The Tegerian ambassador was delighted to know that his companion would be able to offer the Tau'ri of Earth a very simple, age-old remedy for skin irritations. He had wondered briefly at the lack of such a remedy among people so advanced, until Daria had pointed out that it was possible that the irritant was something new, and a satisfactory antidote had yet to be perfected. A reasonable assumption, he agreed. "This rash General O'Neill is suffering from," the ambassador began, breaking the silence that had filled the small room, "it is caused by something he's not been exposed to before?"

The general shifted slightly in his seat. "I have no idea if he's ever had poison ivy before or not. It's a rather common plant, most people are aware of it and avoid it whenever possible."

Pallin frowned. "So General O'Neill was aware of the consequences, and exposed himself anyway?" He held up a long, three-joined finger. "Forgive my impudence. Of course he must have been trying to protect someone?"

He studied his desk for a moment. "As I understand it, he and Colonel Carter were walking a path through the woods in the dark. I believe…he…er…I believe they…stumbled…into the poison ivy by accident."

The alien nodded and smiled. "Of course. We have examined images of your planet. There are many forests and jungles where one could become injured quite easily."

"Yes, there are," Hammond agreed. He wasn't about to point out that Jack's property wasn't heavily wooded, nor that the man knew the area well. Let the aliens assume the best, no need to try to explain the whole affair…he had to put a fist to his lips and cough in order to hide the snicker that almost escaped at that thought. It had been an 'affair' all right. Even though it had been meant as a private moment between a man and his wife, Jack O'Neill's penchant for finding trouble had made sure that privacy had been booted out the door, and that the entire SGC would know about his nocturnal romancing.

"Still, that there hasn't been a cure found, I'm rather surprised. Are all of your medical advances relatively new? Have you not been able to find cures for all ailments?"

The general was surprised by the question. "Aren't there ailments among your people that have no cures?"

Pallin shook his head, the shocking red waves of his hair moving across his shoulders. "We have no diseases to speak of. Although some of our explorers have developed allergies on some of the planets we've visited, none have been so bad that we weren't able to inhibit the triggers."

"Your people are very lucky," the general said softly. "We still battle many diseases. Many that prevent the person struck with them from living a happy, pain-free life. Many people still die from those diseases. We…our scientists and doctors…are working toward cures. But there's so much about the human body, and the brain, we're still learning."

Again the alien nodded. "Of course. I forget that your civilization is much younger than ours. Perhaps Daria can consult with your Doctor Fraiser concerning some of the worst of these diseases, and an agreement for any medical advances can be reached."

Even if it took a few years to get the cures to diseases out to the public, having them would be a blessing. One worth bartering for. "That would be appreciated," Hammond replied sincerely.

Pallin consulted the complicated-looking apparatus on his arm. "We should expect Daria in just a few moments."

"And we are honored to be able to offer our…expertise…in the matter," Pallin replied. "The remedy is quite well known among our people, and has been for a matter of centuries. There's nothing to be gained from withholding something so…common."

"Well, it might be common to you, but I assure you that General O'Neill and Colonel Carter will be most grateful to be relieved of their symptoms."

"Our assistance comes from selfish motives," Pallin admitted. "We're quite anxious to meet with, and perhaps trade with, these people from the Land of Light."

"They're still quite primitive by our standards, but they have access to a source of naquadah, as well as several ores. We're able to trade for gold and silver as well."

Pallin again consulted the band on his arm. "Ah, yes. Such ores can be quite useful in electronics."

"So I've learned," General Hammond smiled. He sat back in his chair. "I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for your generosity, the generosity of your people," he amended, when Pallin frowned slightly. "Most of the cultures older than our own hesitate to deal with us, beyond a standard treaty of recognition."

The alien's frown faded and became a smile. "Your people are very…enthusiastic," Pallin said slowly. "That endeared them to our leaders. The obvious amount of work that Doctor Jackson did before he appeared before our council was impressive. Not once did he offer 'formal complaints' about our method of conducting treaty negotiations. He listened carefully, flawlessly repeated each question, answered thoroughly, and, we were certain quite honestly. He didn't demand more than we were willing to give, and he offered more than we had hoped. While your culture is still young, you do have individuals of whom you should be quite proud."

"We're very proud of Doctor Jackson. He was the scientist who discovered what the Stargate…I believe you call it-" the general glanced at the notes on his desk, "the Circle of Light?"

Pallin nodded. "Yes. It was named that by our ancestors, before we discovered its capabilities."

"Well, Doctor Jackson figured it out. In two weeks. The brightest minds in our country had been working on it for almost two years by that time," Hammond continued. "That young man is not only brilliant, he's the most…peaceful…man I've ever met."

"He is indeed a rare soul. Our leaders have certain…abilities," Pallin said slowly. He captured Hammond's gaze and held it with his own. "Doctor Jackson is more special than you know."

A smile tugged at the general's lips. "Yes, he is special."

The alien studied his human host for a moment. "Then you know of The One?"

"Yes. Daniel was chosen to carry that load. How he deals with it," Hammond sighed, "is more than I can fathom."

Pallin frowned. "We did not believe that your society was aware of such things."

"The public in general isn't," Hammond replied. "Very few people know about the Stargate, or what we're doing here. There's too much division among our countries, revealing this secret now could cause untold chaos and destruction."

The gaunt alien nodded slightly. "Doctor Jackson did speak of this, during negotiations. It is further proof that often individuals learn and grow much more rapidly than large groups. We have found that, here in your SGC, the minds and hearts of the people are very much like those of Doctor Jackson. Full of intelligence, compassion, eager to learn more, willing to help those around them…" Pallin smiled. "We have become quite fond of our Tau’ri allies. The more we learn about them, the more there is to know, the more to admire."

"We have a few not so admirable traits as well," Hammond sighed.

Pallin smiled. "Most young cultures do. Not all are as…brutal…as your own. Yet, not all have made such strides as you have."

"You mentioned learning about us…is that the reason you asked for information about our history?"

"Yes," Pallin nodded. "We have found the disks that contain…I believe you call it 'nightly news'?…they have been very informative as well. So many diverse ideas and beliefs, yet so many people struggling to bring your world together. It is quite impressive. To be honest, General Hammond, our leaders have expressed a hope to meet with your President – at some future time, of course – to discuss the fact that perhaps the secret of the Stargate might be the very catalyst to bring about the world peace so many of this planet's inhabitants desire."

Hammond studied the alien. "I'll let President Hayes know. I’m certain he'd be delighted to meet with your leaders, and to hear their ideas and opinions."

"Another reason we are so fond of our Tau’ri allies," Pallin smiled warmly. "You do not pretend to know all of the answers. You're willing to listen."

Hammond chuckled. "Only a fool believes he knows it all."

"Very true."

The klaxons began to wail, lights began to flash. "Very attention grabbing," Pallin said, trying to cover his embarrassment for having nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Yes," Pallin nodded. When Hammond had rounded the corner of his desk, the alien reached out a long fingered hand, and laid it on the general's arm. "Thank you. Your compassion is typical of your species."

Hammond smiled. "I think it's one of humanity's best traits."

"I agree."

Daria stepped through the 'gate; paused to wait for permission to enter the room. She eyed the armed Marines warily, but admitted to herself that the humans had every right to be concerned about enemies trying to reach them. The Tegerians had long ago fought off the Goa'uld, causing such devastating loses that the power-hungry creatures no longer attempted to approach Tegeria. The Tau'ri, however, had stirred up the hornet's nest of system lords, and were no doubt attacked often. The number of Goa'uld the Tau’ri had destroyed was impressive. That they listed those victories on the wall of their stronghold was most appropriate, she thought.

"Daria, welcome back," General Hammond said, and holding out his hand. "At ease," he told the marines.

She walked down the ramp. "Thank you, General. I hope I have not kept you waiting too long?"

"Not at all. Pallin and I had a very nice conversation," Hammond replied, his smile warm and sincere.

"Very pleasant," Pallin added. "I have been honored to get to know General Hammond."

Daria nodded approvingly. She held up a beautiful glass jar. "This is the ointment of which I told your Doctor Fraiser."

"Shall we take it to her? I'm certain General O'Neill will be happy to get rid of his rash as soon as possible." Hammond gave himself a pat on the back for not laughing when he mentioned Jack's name.

"I'm certain he will be. Doctor Fraiser indicated he's quite…uncomfortable," Daria said.

Hammond didn't trust himself to reply. Instead, he led the way to the door. "This way."

He almost asked, but decided to wait for the doctor's presence, to learn what the side effects of the ointment were. Hopefully they were worth the risk of using the ointment, particularly if they would cure the rash as quickly as the Tegerians insisted it would. Both the Tegerians and the Minoans were anxious to begin negotiations, and having the SGC involved would only earn brownie points for the humans. It was always a good thing to have friends in time of need. And lord knows we hit those times of need often enough, Hammond thought.

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