Dear Daniel II
Jack’s journal entries during season 6.
Episodes covered: Shadowplay/The Other Guys/Allegiance/Cure/Prometheus/Unnatural Selection
Can I just smack Carter? Or how about I wall her up in a room? She’s getting worse than I ever was about our standing orders concerning technology.
There are times, Daniel, where my heart just isn’t in my job anymore. This was one of those times.
We went back to Kelowna. What a bunch of paranoids. I thought we weren’t that bad but we’re the same.
I felt like shit the entire time, but at least this time, Jonas did too. His people consider him a traitor. Can you imagine? Here I am hating him for a while and thinking he can go back home at some point in the future, but nope. They hate him.
I had to remind Jonas that no matter what went on with Kelowna, he was now with SG-1 and that’s where his priority lay. He wasn’t happy about it but he understood his loyalties. Color me surprised.
Hammond asked my opinion before he gave his recommendation to the JCS about Kelowna. I told him we shouldn’t help because we have no idea if the Kelownans would use our technological help solely to defend themselves. You know what he said? **I’m starting to sound like you.**
He was suspicious of my motivations for not wanting to help, and really, the man has a point. I’m biased and I can’t help it. Those Kelownan bastards got you dead, Daniel, and blamed you for it afterward. I’ll never forgive them. Ever. Seriously. You know how stubborn and unforgiving I can be. I don’t forgive betrayal.
Remind me just why certain scientists are allowed inside the SGC and others aren’t? What’s the gauge or the test? It seems to me, Daniel, that if someone’s emotionally unstable, even with a high IQ, they shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near sensitive projects, even if it’s to create them.
I asked Carter this question and you know what her answer was? “If they’re brilliant and we can use their help, their personality quirks should be overlooked.”
*You* had personality quirks. These guys have serious mental defects.
I’m putting in a recommendation that all civilians, especially the scientists, have to go through a military orientation and a short 3-week class on emergency combat tactics. *AND* those who may be required to go offworld should undergo a month of offworld training. One week of that should be in teaching them to get their heads out of their asses.
If that doesn’t work, a week’s worth of ECT should do it.
Oh, and I’m pretty sure that when Felger is around me, he’s checking out my ass. I’m telling you, Daniel, the guy’s creepin’ me out.
Been a few weeks. A few days ago, I had to deal with the Tok’ra again. A large base of theirs had been hit and Jacob took the survivors to the Alpha site. We already had a few hundred rebel Jaffa taking up residence there.
So… guess what?
Yep. Rivalries and hatred cropped up. And an Ass-rack came through with the Tok’ra and created havoc, killing a few of us before Carter and one of the Tok’ra rigged up something to see through a personal cloak, like the one Nirrti had.
Jacob and I had a short talk about Kanan. He told me that what Kanan did was a violation, but then said he did it for the right reasons so couldn’t I forgive him for that? Uh, not only no but fuck no.
I don’t give a shit what the intentions were because he left me to hang for his ‘crime’ and I do *not* forgive betrayal. The Tok’ra got their intelligence and I was healed, but so the fuck what? I was ready to die. They don’t get that because their species is dying.
I’d like to care about that but I really don’t.
I’m often wondering what you’re doing out there. Like about ten times a day, when I’m not distracted by Goa’ulds, Tok’ra, or… Goa’ulds.
Do you know what’s going on? Are you watching? I know it’s a big universe but I keep thinking that, yes, you do have an idea what’s going on out there. I can’t help but get this visual sometimes. You coming back to the Oma Circle after being out doing a bunch of glowy stuff and Oma asking how your day went, then Oma filling you in on what you missed. Actually, I got that image when I saw one of those graphical post-it notes that said: While You Were Out.
I hope you are doing some good, Daniel. Though if you can’t help rid the universe of evil, what good is it gonna do if all you’re doing is flying around, offering to ascend people? And just who deserves ascension and who doesn’t? You’ll probably say those whose minds are open, but the trick is *knowing* that the possibility exists.
For example, I met someone recently that seemed like a pretty good person. Actually, I didn’t exactly meet her. I heard her talk. It was that Tok’ra queen that that lippy Anise mentioned a few years ago — the one they thought was dead. I forget its name. I’ll get it in a minute. Point is, she actually sounded like someone worth ascending, you know?
Egeria. That’s it. I knew it’d come to me.
Why me and not someone like her? I know you love me, Daniel, and think that there’s all this good in me, but come on, I’ve done some nasty shit. I can’t believe the other glowy people would have allowed me to stay once they found out. Even that Oma.
Whoops. Gotta go. Carter’s called. Something bad’s happened. Gee, there’s a shock.
We have a HUGE spaceship. They call the ship Prometheus, but it’s designation is still X 303. While being a cool name, that guy’s story comes to a bad end and naming a ship after the god who gave man fire and was punished for it… they’re only begging for trouble.
Anyway, long story short. Adrian Conrad is dead. So is the snake that was in him, though it didn’t die there. It went into Simmons, who is also dead. Good riddance to that trio.
Back again. As I was gonna say before I was so rudely interrupted: had another Brain Drain. I don’t think I can tell you about it all because of the irony. You see, I CAN’T FUCKING TELL YOU! You’re not HERE!!!
Sorry. I wasn’t feeling well. One hell of a fucking headache. It’s gone now. Anyway, another long story short — Replicators learned how to go human-form. And you know one of ’em just had to get a crush on Carter. If you think about that long enough, it’s kinda funny in a sick way.
So anyway, after we futzed with them for a while, we brought the ship home and now it’s getting finished. Whoop-de-doo. At least they won’t have to call me for a test run.
I can’t believe it. Some guy actually came on to me today. I went down to this shop outside of Boulder to stock up on some more DVDs. Afterwards, I go into this bar to get a drink. It was a gay bar and Daniel, I swear to god I thought it was a straight one. It had all the stereotypical trappings of a macho-man’s bar. Pool tables, video games, tables, a bar, pull tabs, the TV behind the bar showing a baseball game. Not a gay bar, right?
So, I sit down at the bar, order an import, and try to relax while wishing you were with me. Then this guy comes up and sits next to me, starts up a conversation. It’s a normal conversation, too. No come-ons. Not until our conversation hit a pause – you know the ones, where you run out of something to say until you can think of something else.
So, I’m sipping my beer, listening to the game on TV, trying not to notice how good looking this guy is, when he suddenly asks me if I’d like to go out to dinner with him. I swear, I was suddenly struck with a stupid stick. I asked him “What for?”
So he smiled back and said, “To get to you know a little more before I make you come till you scream.” Bastard kept smiling because I was literally dumbstruck by the comment.
So, once I stopped flushing, and told my dick to go back to sleep (which it didn’t), I deflected (kinda) and asked back, “I’m not too old for you?”
The guy was *maybe* 30, Daniel. That’d be pushing it.
He said the cliched line, too. “I dig older men.”
So I said: “Old enough to be your father?”
So he said: “Old enough to be what I want.” (another cliched line but I really liked that one)
Am I desperate? The guy was good looking but… even though my dick was putting up a good argument, I told him no thanks, not this time. I didn’t say ‘no’ altogether, but I couldn’t date this guy. I got the vibes that he was looking, you know? Looking for a partner. I can’t be one. I wish. I’m lonely. But it’d never work. A) I can’t stop loving you until I’m dead and it’s too soon to even try and find someone, and b) my job automatically puts a crimp on relationships because I’d always be lying.
So, I fended off a few more very nice and creative come-ons meant to change my mind (and I have to admit they were tempting), drank the rest of my beer, and got up to leave. He told me that he comes by the bar usually once a week so if I should ever be in the neighborhood to stop in. Didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so I told him I’d think about it.
The thing is. I’m thinking about it.