Teal'c Alphabet Soup
My thanks to the 26 amazing authors who helped make Teal'c Alphabet Soup a reality: Amathela, Annieau08, Aurora, Beanpot, Cleo the Muse, Cnidarian, Courser, Fig Newton, Holdouttrout, Kalquessa, Komos, Jane Davitt, Lokei, Maevebran, Pepper, Princess of Geekland, Purpleshrub, Random, Redbyrd, Rigel, SG_Betty, Suzannemarie, Traycer, Uniquinum, Wonderland, and Yvi.
Shorter ficlets are reposted here in full, with links to the author's LJ for comments; longer ones are excerpted, with links to the full ficlet in the author's LJ. Please give individual feedback to the authors - the final product is only as good as the ingredients, after all. :)
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Teal'c Alphabet Soup - a gen anthology of ficlets on Teal'c, from A to Z. Ratings range from G to PG-13. Various spoilers for Seasons 1-10, and references to SGA Season 4.
A is for Age
by purpleshrub
He often forgot how very young the Tau'ri were.
Teal'c rarely had the occasion to see elderly humans, surrounded as he was by his fellow warriors at the SGC. They lacked the wealth of personal experience that he had, but they were not children by any means.
Certainly they were impressed by his age, but the Tau'ri were more concerned with birthdays anyway. And while Teal'c appreciated the gifts he received, he had always privately felt there were accomplishments more worthy of celebration than simply surviving another year.
When Major Ferretti invited SG-1 to such a celebration, Teal'c was disinclined to attend. However, when Major Ferretti told them, "She's my great-grandmum Pauline and she's turning 1-0-8," Teal'c's interest was piqued. He had never met a human older than himself before.
He was amazed by how frail she was, sweaters and blankets piled about her despite the heat of the day, spidery veins clearly visible on her thin, aged skin.
"Grandmum," said Major Ferretti, "these are my friends, General O'Neill--"
"Call me Jack," said O'Neill.
"My boy's name is Jack," said the woman with a smile.
"Lieutenant-Colonel Carter--"
"Pleased to meet you," Carter said. She did not shake hands as the Tau'ri customarily did, just rested one hand upon the old woman's.
The woman looked less impressed. "And your husband stays home, I suppose? Is this him?"
Daniel Jackson offered, "Just another friend. And it's an honor. Lou said you might be willing to share some events from your life--"
But her gaze had shifted beyond Daniel Jackson, and found Teal'c. "Who's the darkie?"
Teal'c's companions fell silent. He sensed their discomfort, but as he met the elder's gaze, it was not important. "I am Murray. Your progeny brings you honor." He nodded to her, a gesture of respect.
She frowned. "You fight together?"
"Indeed."
She looked at him carefully over her glasses, and smiled again. "Well you look after him then, that boy is a little hellion. Just the other week he ran some poor girl's knickers up the school flagpole!"
His teammates were smiling now, and Ferretti was bright red. "Grandmum, that was over twenty years ago!"
Twenty years was scarcely a drop of time to Teal'c or to Pauline. No wonder the Tau'ri forgot some grudges so quickly, no wonder their history disappeared into time forgotten with such ease. Already the inventions of motorized vehicles, movies and flight were two or three generations past. Already the year of Teal'c's birth was so far distant, it might as well have been light-years away.
No surprise then, that the Tau'ri were a people of fire and wonder and exploration. Like the candles of his Kel'no'reem, they burned too brightly to last for long.
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B is for Beauty
by yviwriting
Teal'c appreciates the beauty around him more than they realize. If you asked his fellow team members what Teal'c would characterize as beautiful, they would likely answer something about weapons and ships. They are wrong.
Teal'c often remembers the beauty he has left behind: the fields of Chulak, the gentle curves of his wife's body, the first rays of sunlight reflecting on his still sleeping son's face. He misses these things.
There are beautiful things on Earth, he has seen them on the television screen in his spartan quarters. Big oceans with strange, majestic animals; yellow and brown deserts that go on forever; buildings that seem taller than Goa'uld motherships, but are made of glass and steel and appear vulnerable, yet are strong. He wants to go outside and explore this beautiful world, but he has to to patient.
In all his years, Teal'c never lost the sense of wonder that all creatures possess, he just hid it deep within him. The Goa'uld do not encourage curiosity and Teal'c conformed to this. But hidden isn't lost and so it lies in his heart, waiting to get out when he is done with his mission. When the Jaffa are freed, he will have time for beauty again.
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C is for Caring
Cordiform
by kalquessa
"It's called a Valentine," Captain Carter informed him, proffering a folded card. "Cassie made a bunch in class, and Doctor Frasier said she wanted to make sure we each got one."
Teal'c accepted the card with an inclination of his head and regarded it seriously. The card itself was red, and it had been decorated with several pink shapes--hearts, he believed, though he assumed the shape to be symbolic only: it bore no resemblance to that of the organ.
"It's sort of a tradition," Captain Carter explained when he continued to examine the Valentine. "Today's a holiday, Valentine's Day. It was named after an early Christian saint--Daniel could probably explain that part better than I can--but on Valentine's Day, it's traditional to give cards like these to family and friends."
"The heart is used to denote affection in your culture, is it not?" Teal'c inquired.
"Yeah," Captain Carter grinned at him. He noted that she still held her own Valentine from Cassandra Frasier. It was adorned with another heart shape that shimmered with a rainbow of colors when it caught the light.
Teal'c considered his Valentine for another minute, then asked, "Captain Carter, I would like to request a favor of you."
"Sure, Teal'c," she replied, though her expression conveyed confusion.
"I would like to obtain the materials necessary for the construction of a Valentine for Cassandra Frasier."
"Oh." Captain Carter blinked and her look of confusion became a smile. "I think I have some cardstock in my office, and I might be able to find some colored pens or something." Her smile deepened to an expression of genuine enthusiasm. "I'll show you a really easy way to make heart shapes by folding a paper in half."
continued here.
D is for Daniel
One day of freedom--Teal'c had had that much among the Tau'ri. But today the loss of Major Kawalsky to a Goa'uld had been marked by their rituals, and Teal'c was not surprised when three soldiers closed on his flank, with three more in the narrow, gray hallway before him.
He stopped, regarded each in turn. Hard faces--mouths dragged down, eyes rimmed by red and loss. Head coming up, he could not stop the reaction. Muscles tensed, the response automatic--back, arms, legs. But he took a shallow breath, told his heart to slow. Perhaps they sought revenge--and perhaps he would find himself a just end after all. Atonement by blood was within their rights.
Folding his hands behind his back, he widened his stance. They fell into a ragged circle around him, and the one facing him took one step closer. Teal'c frowned. Unwise to reveal impatience--and to leave an opening. He could take this one down, slam the body into the two on his left, and take a fourth to the floor with a kick, leaving the remaining two confused and therefore easy prey. These Tau'ri had much to learn, and regret feathered into him that he would not be of use to them in that fashion. But guilt for other deaths, other wrongs--burned deep, buried by years--held him still.
This was their choice to make; his to allow.
The one before him--a man with thinning hair and pale eyes--gestured toward Teal'c's pouch. Teal'c knew this uniform--a marine, O'Neill had said. A jarhead, though that word made no sense.
"You've got one."
Teal'c lifted an eyebrow--ah, now he understood O'Neill's reference. Jar, perhaps, as in stuffed tight with an insufficient breadth of passage to allow a smooth flow between any contents inside and the opening. Since he saw no need to confirm the obvious, he continued to stare at the jarhead.
The man's eyes narrowed. "Damn snake--who's it after? The general? O'Neill? That what you here for--snake us all?"
With the muscle twitching in his cheek, Teal'c did not bother to hold back his words a second time. "It is impossible for a Goa'uld to take more than one host at a time--and that is well beyond the abilities of the infant I carry."
"So, we kill it before it grows--that'll take care of that. Won't it?"
This did not sound a question.
Tipping his head, Teal'c reconsidered his options. Blood justice he would allow--willful stupidity, however, could not be tolerated. Lack of thought led to a short fighting career--often for the others who were with that warrior.
Loosening his hands, letting them fall to his side, he saw fists clench around him. Shifting his weight to brace for the assault, he knew he had lost his initial opportunity. But he smiled. If death found him in this battle, it was no more than had learned to expect.
Then a voice from behind interrupted, high and clear and pushing into the circle, along with its owner--Daniel Jackson.
"Uh, 'cuse me...what's going on?"
Daniel Jackson stepped in front of Teal'c, glanced around the circle of men. He seemed oblivious to the violence hovering close like a thick, sour stench. But as Daniel Jackson kept staring at the others--expectation in his eyes and disapproval on his face--the air shifted. Daniel Jackson pushed back his open, loose bagging shirt, and put his hands on his hips, and made himself a presence that could not be ignored.
Around them, faces moved from hard to sheepish; glances dropped to the floor; hands opened and bare palms turned upwards. Daniel Jackson's frown tightened, and then he turned to Teal'c.
"Are these guys giving you a hard time?" he demanded.
Teal'c lifted an eyebrow, glanced at the others, glimpsed worry as well as irritation. And perhaps a desire not to be made to look foolish. He looked at Daniel Jackson. "We were about to discuss various methods of self-defense."
"Oh? Discuss?" Doubt lay heavy in Daniel Jackson's voice. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened, and he blinked. Then his stare sharpened and he asked, "Anything Jack needs to know about?"
O'Neill's name straightened backs, shifted feet, and had men angling away with muttered words that almost held apology. But the man in front of Teal'c stayed where he was, his face still hard, his eyes still dark.
continued here.
E is for Earth
by shutthef_up
Teal’c remembers coming to Earth after he’d made the choice that changed the course of his existence. Unwilling to continue to serve under Apophis’ cruelty and caprice, he’d made the choice in the heat of the moment at the urging of a stranger.
When he’d emerged from the Chappa’ai into a military bunker, he’d had a moment of doubt. Many weapons came to bear on him and he feared that in his moment of weakness he’d been tricked into surrendering. His new friends stood firm in his defense against their own people. They were the first to do so in many, many years.
His first view of Earth was through a television screen. It simply appeared in his quarters when he was taking a meal. He flipped through channel after channel mesmerized by the variation and sheer numbers of humanity. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But it was also frightening. The Goa’uld had always maintained that with freedom came chaos and it seemed readily apparent from what he could see.
These days, his understanding of the Tauri is better though far from complete. His time living off-base made that abundantly clear. He has come far in his time among them but he will never be one of them.
He finds himself torn between two cultures. There are elements of Tauri culture he enjoys and many things of value here. But he was born a Jaffa and Jaffa he will always be. His duty is to his people even if some of those people believe he’s been tainted by the Tauri.
Teal’c has feet in two worlds and is an outsider in both.
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F is for Faith
by beanpot
Since he had come to Earth, there had been few moments when he wasn’t with a teammate or a guard. While he knew that O’Neill and the others were frustrated, Teal’c understood. If situations had been reversed, Apophis would have slaughtered them on sight.
No mercy.
He understood why there was currently a guard posted at the doorway as he ate his meal and another a few steps behind him. He also knew why he ate alone when his teammates were unavailable. Why should they trust a person responsible for such much death?
There was a low scratch as the chair across from him was pulled out and Gen. Hammond sat down. The General said nothing as he laid a napkin across his lap and salted his food. Teal’c had found that salt was the only thing that made the food on Earth palatable. Hammond took a bite of his meatloaf and made a face before saying, “How are you today, Teal’c?”
“I am well, General Hammond,” Teal’c replied as his spoon traversed the edge of the Jello cup. Captain Carter had spent an earnest few minutes trying to find him the perfect flavor; it touched him to think his teammates were trying so hard to make him feel comfortable, even if they weren’t yet.
“Settling in okay?”
“Yes, my quarters are most comfortable, I thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need, Teal’c?”
“I would like acquire some candles and reading material.”
“I’ll see to it,” Hammond said.
continued here
G is for Glory
by rigel_7
The evening shadows deepened, throwing the figure of Bra'tac into stark relief against the darkening sky. He was clad in his full battle regalia, the heavy cloak of his office flapping at the hem as the wind caught at it. He stood with one foot braced against a hummock of grass. Somehow, it had flourished amongst the barren scree that surrounded the encampment, a lone note of green against rock and shale.
The guards at his side snapped to attention, and he turned his gaze toward his finest apprentice, who was now approaching the command post.
"First Prime Bra'tac, Nu'man sends orders from our god." Teal'c halted and bowed his head, slightly awed by the air of authority that his master radiated.
"Speak." An impatient note had crept into Bra'tac's voice, no doubt a result of the long day spent marshalling the vast force now assembled behind him on the plains. He gestured and Teal'c stepped forward, unrolling a scroll that had been covered with carefully inked glyphs.
Teal'c swallowed hard, and read the missive. "Bring glory to your god this day and serve our divine purpose. Our will is strong, and our path is clear…"
Bra'tac listened to the charges dictated to him, his expression impassive as the terms of the demanded victory grew impossible to achieve, even for renowned Jaffa that had been bred solely for the purpose of war.
As he drew to a close, Teal'c felt the first seeds of unease blossom within him. He concentrated on the engraved pattern of entwined serpents on his gauntlets and set aside his fears. Bra'tac was the warrior who had led the charge against a ten thousand strong army with only two thousand under his command and prevailed, earning a golden tattoo and the approval of a god - it was disloyal to doubt his abilities.
"Come, Teal'c," said Bra'tac. "Walk with me a while." Grasping his staff weapon, he used it to point in a sweeping arc across the plain. "Tell me what you see."
Teal'c took a moment to consider, glancing at his surroundings. "I see the vanguard of our army; warriors preparing for battle and honing their skills."
"And beyond?"
"There is nothing, only the dark of the battlefield."
"Truly?"
"There is only wind and rock, Master."
"I see the fires of the enemy." Bra'tac sighed uncharacteristically. "And they are gathered as the bee is to honey. Every warrior there burning with the desire to destroy us and win acclaim."
Teal'c felt uncomfortable. His mentor rarely showed any kind of emotion - it was almost unseemly, even unnatural for a Jaffa.
continued here.
H is for Hair
by cleothemuse
Teal'c turned the razor over in his hands, admiring the glint of the fluorescent lighting on the trio of blades. It was a marvelous invention, this razor, being both sharp and flexible. It also had a textured handle which made it easy to grip even with wet fingers, allowing its wielder to shave with little fear the sharp blades might slip.
Such a relatively small example of Tau'ri ingenuity. The Goa'uld didn't believe in using technology to create conveniences, preferring to force a slave to labor for them. A razor such as the Tau'ri used would make it relatively easy for a Goa'uld's personal attendant to shave his "master" without cutting him, but the sadistic Goa'uld had no such razors. Instead, their slaves had to perform the task with a short-bladed knife and risk being flogged if the metal slipped and drew blood.
When he first came to Earth, Teal'c had initially insisted upon using a knife and soap lather to shave his head and face, but then Daniel Jackson had introduced him to the disposable implements favored by the Tau'ri. Along with his first BIC razor, Teal'c had been gifted a can of shaving cream. The loud aerosol spray had surprised him initially, spitting out far more foam than was required and leaving a puddle of white slowly fizzling in the sink. With practice, however, he became more adept at dispensing the lather, more proficient at wielding the single-bladed shaving tool. By the time Ma'chello's body-swapping machine had misplaced O'Neill in his body--and him in O'Neill's--he'd upgraded to shaving gel, a bottle of pleasantly-scented aftershave, and a twin-bladed razor with replaceable heads.
He recalled with a smile how foreign the hair atop O'Neill's head had felt when confined to the Tau'ri's body. Not giving it another thought, he'd moved to bathroom to trim and remove the hair, only to have O'Neill--his consciousness stored in Teal'c's own body--pleading with him to not shave his head.
Shaving his head had been Teal'c's way of declaring his intentions to avenge his father's death at the hands of Cronus, and for nearly a century, he'd dutifully shaved his head to remind himself of his goal. Even after Cronus was slain by Teal'c's android twin, Teal'c had continued the practice out of habit. His need for revenge had been sated, but his desire to overthrow Goa'uld rule had only increased.
Now, with Anubis so recently destroyed in a failed attack on Earth, it seemed that final victory over the Goa'uld might be attained far sooner than anyone had dared dream. Unfortunately, that most-recent victory came at a steep cost to O'Neill, and it was still uncertain if the colonel had paid the ultimate price for the Tau'ri's continued freedom.
No, he decided, he would not think such things. Daniel Jackson was adamant that O'Neill was not dead, not yet, and that it was still possible the Asgard might respond to the requests for assistance sent by Major Carter. O'Neill was merely sleeping, the archaeologist insisted. Perhaps that was true, but for now, the man whose sacrifice had saved the world yet again was locked in a stasis chamber in a cavern beneath the ice of Antarctica.
continued here.
I is for Identity
An I for an I
by paian
Teal'c has always felt comfortable in the rocky stronghold that Stargate Command inhabits, far more than he ever did in even his sturdiest wooden home, far more even than in the palaces and palatial spacecraft of Apophis, certainly more than in the ragged tents of the poor Jaffa encampments where he dwelled as a boy, after his father had been dishonored and killed, or in the moldy, splintered barracks where the Goa'uld housed their armies-in-training. Deep in the stone, he feels at one with the hasteless, powerful rotation of the planet, the liquid fires that roil in its core, the armored layers of metal that protect its molten heart; he feels an affinity for the planet itself, as a tangible entity, that he never felt for Chulak or Dakara, or any world he conquered or explored or freed.
He has always defined himself by his allegiance and his duty -- by what he has pledged himself to. Beyond that, he has never bothered to ponder the metaphysical profundities of identity. What he is has changed greatly over the years -- a warrior in chains, a traitor, a rebel, a freedom fighter, a politician, an explorer, and, most enduringly, a member of SG-1, in fact after his induction the only constant in a team whose other members came and went -- but who he is remains the same. He would never say, as he sometimes hears, "I was a different person then." He is who he is -- grievous errors, unforgivable crimes, unbearable sacrifices, fierce triumphs and all. He is himself, and always has been, and will be for as long as he lives.
Terrans, someone once told him, are drawn with near-mystical fascination to the seas from which they evolved. The salt of those seas runs in their veins, and the seas call to them. This he believes, though the same salt runs in his veins and if those seas call to him their cry is weak, diluted by the aeons and the light-years, muted by the genetic will of prim'ta and drowned by the synthetic wash of tretonin. He believes it because this planet, the first world, the lost world, called to him the way its oceans call to them, but with a lower, older resonance, the call not of water to blood but of rock to flesh, metal to muscle, stone to bone -- a call so deep and strong that it crossed the stars.
Although apart from the cetaceans he is the least human of the higher life-forms on this planet, Earth is where he feels most human; although the places of the Jaffa lie far across a gulf of vacuum, Earth is where he feels most Jaffa, and least the suffering creation of false and ruthless gods. In the abiding, patient depths of Earth's mountains, he finds peace. On Earth, he is most himself.
"Are you sure, Teal'c?" Doctor Lam says now, holding the results of the genetic 'paternity' test she proposed and he agreed to provide samples for. She will propose studies based on those results and those studies will illuminate history and pave the way to fresh discoveries, bring honor and acclaim to worthy scientists; it was his duty and his honor to comply. But he has no need to be informed of those results.
Deep in his muscle, his flesh, his heart, his bones, he knows the answer. He answered the call. He is the answer.
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J is for Jello
The Case of the Missing Jello (Among Others)
by amidalashari
"Can I play?"
Cam's distracted for a minute by Vala's request, and he turns around as he hears the ball drop into the basket behind him. He tries glaring at Teal'c, but Teal'c just raises an eyebrow, and after a minute, he gives up.
"Do you even know the rules?" he asks, and it's not like it really matters; Vala doesn't exactly seem the type to let rules get in the way.
"Of course I do," she says, and Cam shakes his head; she's not as good a liar as she thinks she is.
"I will assist you," Teal'c offers, and Cam glares again. Teal'c looks deliberately stoic.
"Fine," he agrees, after a moment, because he knows when he's been beaten. "But that last shot doesn't count."
Teal'c inclines his head, a little too quickly, and Cam thinks he should have pressed for better terms.
Vala swishes onto the court, and Cam fetches the ball; dribbles, once, and moves forward, a grunt of surprise forced from his lips when Teal'c intercepts.
"There," Vala says, as the ball flies neatly towards the basket. "That doesn't look too hard."
Teal'c hands her the ball, and she sets off without dribbling. Cam doesn't bother to argue as he dashes forward, just missing when Teal'c lifts her up to dunk the ball into the hoop. Cam frowns, and as Vala laughs, smiling up at Teal'c, he thinks this probably wasn't the best idea he's ever had.
"You've got to bounce the ball," he says, but it's a lost cause; he's been outplayed, and he knows it.
When Teal'c and Vala win by a humiliating margin, he doesn't bother to point out that they were cheating.
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Daniel lets out a cry of protest when Vala swipes his jello, for all the good he thinks it'll do. She digs a spoon into the bowl with a grin, and he sits back, already admitting defeat.
Across the table, Cam smirks at him, and Daniel notices he's guarding his own jello closely.
"This is good," she says between mouthfuls, and he resists the urge to point out that yes, it is, which is why he got it in the first place. He tells himself he's just afraid she'll offer to share.
Nobody, he thinks, should be able to eat jello that quickly. She glances around the table, and Cam hurriedly leaves.
"Are you going to eat that?" she asks Teal'c, who glances up from his tray. After a minute, he says, quietly, "Indeed."
"All right," she says, and shrugs. She leans back, and Daniel narrows his eyes.
"How comes you listen to him?" he asks, and the rest of the question remains unspoken.
Vala glances at him, smiling, and shrugs again. "I like Teal'c."
Across the table, Teal'c almost grins, and finishes his jello.
continued here.
K is for Kheb
They spread out as they walked through the trees toward the temple. Once Bra'tac and Teal'c had pulled slightly ahead of the others, Teal'c asked, "Was it your father who taught you to track, Master?"
"My father hunted as a boy," Bra'tac said. "He learned to track animals, and found the skills even more useful when hunting more dangerous prey."
"He was a warrior, was he not?" Teal'c said.
"He died in battle when I was still young," Bra'tac said. "He gained a great victory over Heru-ur. Apophis took me into his service in his place, as a reward for my father's service." He smiled humorlessly. "He did not know how little love my father bore him. His lack of insight told me that all my father had taught me of the Goa'uld was truth."
"And he told you of Kheb?"
"He told me that a Jaffa's body might belong to the Goa'uld, but his calak was his own," Bra'tac said softly. "I think he would have sought Kheb himself, had he lived."
Teal'c hesitated a moment, then asked the question he had been working toward. "What did you mean, that if this is Kheb, the time of your ending may be at hand?"
Bra'tac paused to scan the ground ahead, then moved forward. "You have always been a practical man, Teal'c. You have never had much regard for religion."
Teal'c frowned. "It was you who taught me the folly of worshiping false gods."
The older Jaffa slowed and gave him a reproving look. "You allied with Apophis to seek revenge on Chronus. I did not need to teach you to rebel, Teal'c, you already believed you had the right to rebuke a god."
The thought was a new one and Teal'c considered it gravely. "It had not occurred to me in that light," he confessed. "But it is true I expected more from gods than the Goa'uld could provide."
"Yet even though the Goa'uld are not gods, yet we still have our calaks, do we not?" Bra'tac gave him a strangely penetrating look. "Or do you not believe in the calak, Teal'c?"
Teal'c hesitated, "I do not know, Master." Teal'c had been raised to believe in the godhood of the Goa'uld, and then rejected those beliefs. He had never wasted much consideration on Jaffa legend.
Read on LJ or on website.
L is for Loyalty
The first lesson Teal’c learned about loyalty was that it was owed to his god, as one who cared for his worshippers, who was pleased with the service of his loyal Jaffa. Teal’c’s loyalty carried him to his place as First Prime, but barely lasted beyond his first battle as commander. He could not be loyal to one who squandered lives.
Teal’c’s second lesson in loyalty was that it was expected by one such as Bra’tac. If you had the honor of his tutelage, you accepted praise and rebuke with the same spirit. To do less would dishonor the man who was your teacher.
Teal’c’s third lesson in loyalty was that as much as you might wish to offer it to an equal, he would not accept it until it was earned. O’Neill’s fierce defense on Teal’c’s behalf against the NID earned Teal’c’s loyalty long before O’Neill was willing to look at his own reflection and not find himself wanting.
From the rest of SG-1, Teal’c learned what he believes may be the final lesson of loyalty: that in its truest form, it is returned to you far more valuable than in its original offering. It is molten, tested, and purified in the hands of a man who fires an alien weapon to destroy the tool which could save his wife, to save his wife’s kidnapper instead. It is burnished to a shine by the unstinting friendship of a woman whose worldview is entirely other, but whose acceptance and capacity for trust are near boundless.
Loyalty, in this form, defies odds and authorities, saves worlds and individuals, is never accepted without a return. On SG-1, Teal’c realizes, loyalty works remarkably like love.
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M is for Ma'chello
by sg_betty
Teal’c might have admired Ma’chello, but he did not.
Ma’chello had been twisted by his long struggle, his great losses. He thought no more for the victims of his schemes than the Goa’uld. Twice, Ma’chello had almost taken Daniel Jackson’s life from him.
Once, it was by stealing Daniel Jackson’s body. Ma’chello thought to keep it; to claim a new life as a reward for his battles, as though Daniel Jackson’s life had no meaning. To keep it like a Goa’uld stealing the body of the host, like a parasite.
The second time was after Ma’chello’s death. His device had stolen Daniel Jackson’s sanity. His life was lost to the prison that the Tauri called a ‘psychiatric facility’, his clever mind in ruins.
The device had left Daniel Jackson to attack his symbiote. Teal’c was grateful for this, although he, himself, had almost died. Had it not, Daniel Jackson would have remained a captive in that prison; never again free, never able to tell of history, ideas, and adventure.
There had been no dishonor in Ma’chello’s goal, but there was great dishonor in his methods. Teal’c knew this to be true.
If Ma’chello had taken Daniel Jackson’s life, Teal’c would not be preparing for this day’s task. He looked forward to it greatly.
Teal’c put on his hat, pulling the brim low on his forehead, hiding the mark of Apophis. He was ready; soon Daniel Jackson would arrive.
Today, he would buy a ‘birthday present’ for his friend. Not one acquired for him or that he had been told was welcome, but one that he would choose himself. Teal’c knew where to obtain this gift. It must be a bookstore. He would pick a fine book that spoke to him of Daniel Jackson; of strange and wonderful places, of great knowledge, of humanity and exploration.
Daniel Jackson did not know the true purpose of this errand. Teal’c would not tell him. He wished to see the expressions on his teammate’s face as he showed him books of interest. When he found one that produced the response he desired, he would purchase it. He would say, “This is for you, Daniel Jackson. Happy Birthday.”
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N is for Naquadah
by annieau08
His first months on Earth are filled with discoveries.
Not everything is completely alien, but even those things somewhat familiar to him are just different enough that he spends much of his time figuring out how to navigate in this new world. And so he memorizes the route from his quarters to the commissary, to the infirmary, to the gym and to the gateroom. He identifies the various paths between the labs of Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter, and quickly determines the importance of the Earth beverage, coffee. He learns to say paper instead of parchment, how to write his name and use a telephone and work zippers and toilets and P-90’s and television sets.
He teaches as well. He tells the Tau’ri all he knows about the Goa’uld, about the System Lords, about the accuracy of staff weapons and the weaknesses in Jaffa armor, about worlds worth exploring and worlds to avoid. He discusses different Jaffa fighting tactics with O’Neill. He helps Daniel Jackson practice his Goa’uld. He gives Captain Carter drawings and definitions and every last detail he can remember about Goa’uld technology. And he watches in awe and wonder as his teammates take what he gives them and use it to fight, to explore, to discover, and to create in ways he would have never imagined.
But for all of the wonders he sees and all he learns during his first days on Earth, there is still an emptiness inside him, a subtle but unrelenting lacking that creeps up on him in the silent moments. An emptiness that does not stem from a single cause but is comprised of numerous elements woven together - elements that he slowly begins to isolate and identify in those moments when he is not learning or teaching, not fighting or exploring.
Some of these missing elements are easily recognizable; the lack of his freedom, his family, his people (his god the voice of the past whispers to him, but it grows weaker with each day, with each victory, with each moment of hope). These losses are understandable, and the pain from them sometimes threatens to drown him in guilt and grief.
But there is one element he cannot seem to identify. One that has him seeking out Captain Carter in the control room late at night to watch silently as she works on the Stargate (Chappa’ai the voice insists, but its scornful hiss is lost under his teammate’s enthusiastic ramblings about energy outputs and gate addresses). One that causes him to constantly double-check the location of his teammates in the field, an unfamiliar need he attributes to his uncertainties about their abilities and their inexperience working as a team. One that haunts him even when he has managed to temporarily silence all the rest.
It isn’t until he stands in the broken remnants of the home given to him by Apophis and hears Bra’tac’s voice again that he begins to understand. For when he steps close to embrace his friend and mentor, he is struck by a visceral jolt of recognition as his symbiote senses the presence of one of its own.
Naquadah.
It is a feeling that he has not experienced since the day he turned his weapon on his fellow Serpent guards and chose to place his dreams for freedom into the hands of the Tau’ri. The knowing that comes when he shares space with another who possesses a symbiote. That indescribable awareness within that brings with it is a sense of completion, of belonging, of being Jaffa.
continued here.
O is for Oranges
by janedavitt
Teal'c drops the orange peel onto his tray, an emptied hollow, a shed skin, and splits off a segment of the flesh. As he bites into it, a pip, slippery, small, catches in his throat. He coughs, swallows, and tastes blood.
Not his. A memory, no more. This fruit grows on other worlds than this -- the Goa'uld have seen to that -- and the false god, Apophis, loved their sweet, tangy juice. Teal'c has seen cartons of orange juice in the supermarket, stacked high, kept cool; a bewildering variety of it. Extra pulp, no pulp, Florida, Grovestand, made from concentrate, added calcium… Apophis had merely asked for the juice when he wanted it and a slave had squeezed it from the fruit, kneeling in front of her god at a small, low table set with golden tools worth many times more than the slave.
The knife and strainer, jug and goblet did not need to be made of gold for that to be true, of course; a slave was worthless.
And that slave, that day, had been careless and allowed a pip to remain in the juice.
The blood that had sprayed when the slave was beheaded had painted Teal'c's face and dripped onto his lips, heavy and sticky. He'd wiped it away when he could, but by then it had dried, flaking off, dull and dark, like the slave's eyes in death.
Mit'ra. That had been her name.
And he had been as angry as Apophis that she had offered their god a less than perfect service and pleased with himself for the smoothness of his stroke.
Teal'c recalls another juice he has seen offered for sale, expensive this one, in a small glass bottle.
Blood orange.
Yes.
He thinks he knows what that tastes like, too.
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P is for Parachute
by sg_wonderland
“O’Neill.” I smirk inwardly as he jolts in surprise.
“God! T, would you quit doing that!” His eyes are dark and furious.
“It was not my intention to frighten you, O’Neill.” I lie smoothly.
His expression says I have not fooled him. “Come on, Teal’c. The plane’ll be here in a few minutes.”
I stand stiffly, unmoving. “I will not be entering that vessel again.”
He frowns at me. “I don’t know how you think you’re gonna get home then. It’s not like you can catch the next Stargate out of here.”
“My latest experience with this form of travel was most unpleasant. I do not intend to once again exit the vessel at a high rate of speed with only a thin layer of fabric to prevent a plummet to certain death.”
There is a distinct snicker behind me. I turn and glare at Daniel Jackson; there was a time this look would have cowed him. It gives me no pleasure to see him stand his ground although Dr. Markov takes a cautious step that places her behind Daniel Jackson. “Pay no attention, Teal’c. Jack’s just pissed off.”
“Because?” I inquire.
“Because the highly trained Air Force macho jocks with plenty of parachuting experience landed a mile away from the target and the two untrained amateurs landed in the front yard.” He steps around me and guides Dr. Markov into another corner of the control room, chattering in an unintelligible language.
“That,” I sniff haughtily, hiding a surge of satisfaction, “is of no consequence. I will not ‘jump’ from this vessel again.”
“You won’t have to, Teal’c. We’re gonna land the old fashioned way. On a runway.”
I take a step closer. “If you feel the need to once again force me to exit a vessel in this manner, you will not live long enough to regret the action, O’Neill.”
Much like Daniel Jackson, he doesn’t back away from me, although his eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Then he inexplicably smiles. “I can never tell when you’re kidding these days.”
“I am not.”
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Q is for Questions
by pepper_field
When Teal'c was very young, he was also very curious. His mother smiled, patting his head with a hand wet from washing, so that he wriggled away, indignantly. Why did she do that, when she knew he did not like washing his hair? "When will you learn enough, sha'shan? Will your head ever be full?"
"But why, mama?"
"However did you get your tunic this stained, Teal'c?"
Young Teal'c, taking that to mean that she would answer no more questions right now, went to find his father instead. His father was sat on the cutting log, looking off into the distance, to where the temple towered against the sky.
"Father, mama won't tell me why the white birds have blue eggs."
Teal'c's father did not turn around. Teal'c stood patiently, knowing that, in a moment, his father would glance back, with a sober expression, but an amused twinkle in his eye. That was how Teal'c knew that his father loved him: because of that twinkle. His father was taking a long time about it, though.
"Father," he said again, after waiting patiently for a moment more. "Mama won't tell me-"
"Teal'c," said his father, and still did not turn. "No questions right now," he said, but gently. He glanced back at last, and Teal'c felt odd, all of a sudden. His father was not twinkling at him. "I have received a great honor, Teal'c," he said. "The Great God Cronus wishes me to be his First Prime."
Teal'c frowned, puzzled. His father had said it was a great honor, and so it must be true - but his father didn't sound like he was telling the truth.
His father reached out to rest his hand on Teal'c's shoulder, as if he were a man. "Fetch your mother to me," he said. "I must tell her the good news."
Teal'c kept his questions silent in his head, and ran to fetch his mother.
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R is for Ry'ac
by princessofg
O’Neill had excused himself to what he smilingly insisted on referring to as the “Little Boys’ Room”, leaving Teal’c standing in the crowd. The mass of shoppers flowed around him like a stream. O’Neill had warned him that Saturday afternoon was busy here at the mall, but Teal’c did not find crowds a source of discomfort.
His hands clasped loosely behind his back, he glanced at the sacks of clothing and candles and magazines that were piled on the bench and floor beside him. His instinct earlier had been to reach for them all, to carry them for O’Neill, but he had stopped himself before either acting or asking. He was not a servant. O’Neill was his commander, but not his master. It was good to remind himself of that, to say that over and over. Daily he weighed the cost, but he could, at last, say to himself, “I live free,” instead of vowing only, as Bra’tac had taught him, to die free.
He glanced around the wide hall, with its tiled floor, its skylights and potted bushes and small trees and masses of people. His clothing was appropriate. The unfamiliar winter cap was tight and scratchy against his head. People on this planet rarely wore cloaks or hoods, which would have felt more familiar to him, but the familiar was something Teal’c was entirely able to sacrifice. Near the benches where he stood, there was the bookstore, and a clothing store for females, and the next window of floor-to-ceiling glass did not seem to be a store. He looked more closely.
Inside, behind the glass, a dozen boys formed a moving, untidy line. They all were dressed identically in white, with sashes of different colors. A man stood before them, holding out a padded training paddle, which they kicked, one by one. The man offered a word or a nod to each. Sometimes, smiling, he whacked one gently on the head, undoubtedly for some trivial offense.
As Teal’c watched, a memory intruded -- a small, eager-faced boy, too small for the discipline of lok’nel, but interested anyway in anything and everything his father did. Teal’c had cut a child’s-height staff for him from a tree branch, and they had spent precious afternoons playing at practice, the hours rolling by like minutes on that green lawn, under the warm, fast-setting sun.
“Hey.” O’Neill’s voice, at his shoulder. Teal’c turned. The colonel had his hands in his pockets. He frowned a little, searching Teal’c’s face, and then turned to look where Teal’c had looked. “Karate class. That’s a Japanese word; it’s one of what we call the martial arts.” O’Neill turned and began to pick up the sacks containing his purchases. Teal’c moved to do the same. Their loads were approximately equal, he noted.
“We can hit that barbecue place I was telling you about next. Unless you want to hang out for a while.” O’Neill’s lip curled a little in what Teal’c had learned was the beginning of his smile. “If you’re interested in karate.”
“It is nothing,” Teal’c replied, settling the thin plastic handles in his grip. He turned away from the boys’ intent faces, prepared to let O’Neill lead the way to the next destination.
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S is for Shol'vah
by traycer_
Shol'vah.
The word reverberated through his mind, despite his best efforts in thinking of other more important issues. Teal'c sat in a chair in the cell he had been brought to, staring straight ahead at the gray walls that surrounded him and matched his mood. He had made the decision to trust the man who claimed he could save those people in Apophis' prison, but the initial regrets were beginning to crowd out his confidence.
He was a shol'vah. He had betrayed his Lord, and in doing so, he had also betrayed his family. His wife and son would suffer for his betrayal, but perhaps Master Bray'tac would find a way to protect them. Teal'c hung on to that thought as he worked through his act of unfaithfulness. His friend would take action in protecting Drey'auc and Rya'c, while inwardly chastising Teal'c for his foolishness. Bray'tac would protect his family. After all, it was Bray'tac who instilled the doubts within him.
Shol'vah.
The word tormented him as memories of what he had done filtered through his thoughts. He had turned on his own Jaffa, the same men who had sworn allegiance to Apophis, and by proxy, to follow Teal'c. The impulse to turn on the Jaffa in favor of helping O'Neill did not come out of desperation or fear. Teal'c had calculated his move almost from the time he had first visited O'Neill's world. The weapons and the determination the warriors displayed when defending their base and the female among them proved that they were part of a powerful force. He knew then that these people were technologically farther along than any other planet he had visited. And if given the opportunity, he would use that knowledge to find the freedom Master Bray'tac wanted. He had no choice.
He turned his thoughts to the planet where Amaunet's host had been found. Teal'c had been surprised to find the same weapons trained on him and his Jaffa. He did not know where those people had obtained the weapons, but he did understand the same determination that lived in their hearts. They were fighters, and he remembered the hatred blazing out of the eyes of the young man whom he had cornered.
"This is not your weapon," he had said. "How did you acquire it?"
The young man did not give him the answer he needed, but Teal'c soon learned the truth when he saw O'Neill and the young man together in Apophis' prison. Perhaps that was the moment he began to feel stirrings of hope that his people could be free. The fortitude and courage O'Neill and his people displayed were encouraging signs. These were the people he would turn to for help.
But acquiring that help was not without regrets. Teal'c stared at the walls of his cell, wondering if he had made a mistake in trusting O'Neill. There was no choice at the time he made the rash decision to free the prisoners, but now that he had time to meditate and think, he worried that perhaps he erred in his haste to find freedom for the Jaffa.
continued here.
T is for Tabloid
by sg_fignewton
Teal'c first discovered tabloid magazines when he found a rolled-up copy of The International Questioner in Sergeant Siler's toolbox.
It happened during those tedious three months when O'Neill was trapped on Edora. Major Carter spent her days - and most of her nights - working on the particle accelerator, while Daniel Jackson struggled with a backlog of translations, his dealings with the Edoran refugees, and his efforts to ensure that Major Carter did not drive herself into exhaustion. Teal'c did not resent their absent-minded neglect; he knew it only due to distraction and overwork. But he found himself missing O'Neill more keenly than ever.
General Hammond, of course, kept Teal'c well occupied. With the general's endorsement, he continued to offer training exercises in the gym to the members of the SGC, and he often accompanied other teams through the Stargate on missions. Nevertheless, as he paced the harshly-lit hallways after a session of kel'no'reem, Teal'c was all too aware that he had not seen the Tau'ri sun or moon or stars for weeks, and he found himself missing the sharp scent of Chulak's chilly nights with an intensity that surprised him.
On one of those nightly vigils of the SGC's lower levels, he came across Sergeant Siler balanced precariously on a ladder, struggling to repair a minor fault in the security system. Teal'c, pleased with even a minor distraction from his frustrated boredom, offered his assistance. He quite liked the taciturn sergeant, who handled the most bizarre circumstances with laconic aplomb, and he soon found himself working together with the man in companionable silence.
They were carefully replacing the sergeant's tools in his toolbox when Teal'c noticed the magazine tucked under the slots of screwdrivers.
"What is this, Sergeant Siler?" he asked curiously. His ingrained sense of privacy would not allow him to take remove the magazine and inspect it without permission, but he could not resist the question.
He was surprised to see a large grin spread across the man's face.
"Hasn't the colonel introduced you to tabloids yet, Teal'c? Ah..." Sergeant Siler flushed a little, no doubt remembering that O'Neill was not in a position to introduce Teal'c to anything. Then he recovered and took the magazine, unrolling it with a flourish. "I'm finished with it. Here, enjoy."
Teal'c blinked at the lurid colors and the screaming headline - TWO-HEADED BABY BORN IN KANSAS! - and accepted the gift with a courteous nod. He filed the term "tabloids" away in his head for future reference.
continued here.
U is for Undomesticated Equines
by maevebran
Teal'c sat in his room Kel'no'reeming and reflecting on Colonel Samantha Carter's recent departure for Atlantis. He had assured her that undomesticated equines wouldn't keep him from visiting her. It was not the first time he had used that phrase as an emphasis of his friendship, nor likely would it be the last.
The first had been that time that the supposed time capsule had pinned O'Neill to the gate room wall. He had not left O'Neill's side. Teal'c had done all he could and still failed to affect a cure but he had done the one thing needed and that was staying by his friend's side. Undomesticated equines, indeed.
There had been many occasions over the years where he had reaffirmed the vow that nothing would take him from friends' sides. The time he had come face to face with Sha're and Daniel had had to deliver her child by Apophis was one. Teal'c never uttered the words then but he had made the vow to himself.
Another had been when he had been forced to kill Sha're. Teal'c was pretty sure he was not the only member of the team, and maybe even Stargate Command, to make an internal vow to Daniel Jackson at that time. O'Neill and Major Carter had taken turns with him to make sure Daniel Jackson was never alone for the first few weeks.
Teal'c had made the vow to himself about Major Carter and Daniel Jackson when O'Neill had gone missing for the hundred days. He felt he had failed O'Neill but he wouldn't fail Daniel Jackson or Major Carter. They had retrieve O'Neill only for him to leave again on that covert mission. Teal'c was there for both his other teammates when they had needed to rant and rave at O'Neill's apparent lack of morals. He was there again when they had needed to let out their disbelief at O'Neill's mistrust of them, a feeling he had shared, but no matter what with O'Neill's return, Teal'c reaffirmed the vow.
The ultimate test of that vow in those early years had been when Teal'c and O'Neill had been sent out into deep space in the hybrid glider. Teal'c had risked his own life to meditate deep enough to not use as much oxygen so O'Neill could have a longer chance of being rescued.
continued here.
V is for Vala
"I can't believe this is how the Tau'ri imagine aliens from outer space!" Vala tossed a few loose popcorn kernels back into the dregs of the bowl then rose to eject the dvd. "I mean, okay granted that one alien reminds me of the krakatou creatures of Ladskaff, but on the whole, the stories are totally ridiculous."
"Hmm," was Teal'c's only response. He had forgotten about the krakatou. That one minor alien in the movie was reminiscent of them.
"I have to admit, if I had this..." Vala paused to read the credits on the dvd box again, "...Will Smith chasing after me, I might pause to get caught myself...well maybe not caught, but at least chased a little."
Teal'c did not deign to make any response to that.
"Are there really Men in Black?"
"That segment of Homeworld Security has often been handled by the NID." Teal'c frowned. "On the whole, they are not as entertaining as Mr. Jones or Mr. Smith. In fact, at times they can be quite disreputable. You would do well to avoid contact with them, Vala Mal Doran." He paused, remembering Malcolm Barrett, who helped exonerate O'Neill. "There are exceptions, however."
Vala Mal Doran's attention had already moved on to glancing over the dvd collection. Teal'c had to admit, the personnel that stocked the base library had an odd sense of humor, since there was an inordinate amount of movies from the science fiction genre. He watched her fingers flip idly over the stacks then come to rest on the Weekly World Examiner Teal'c had left on the end table. The headline read "Frozen Alien Babies found in Ice Cream Parlor". She waved the newspaper at him.
"So if all this alien invasion stuff is part of their popular culture, why does their government keep the Stargate Program secret from them? I mean, get the right producer, some attractive token aliens...say a black haired gorgeous woman and handsome, muscle-y former First Prime, and all this worry about budget for the program would be gone. They'd have movie of the week deals like that!" She snapped her fingers.
continued here.
W is for Worship
by holdouttrout
Your god speaks truth to you. Serve him and he will reward you richly.
There were many doubts in Teal'c's mind, confusing whirls of patterns of words uttered by Apophis, his lord, that clashed and clattered against other smooth lies he'd heard the god tell the other Divine Ones. Usurpers, he knew, and worthy only to be crushed under Apophis' foot. Still, if a god lied to another god, how could his words be trusted?
Teal'c was yet young. He shook off the questions, but kept them hidden in his heart, averted his eyes as was only proper.
You shall kneel in the presence of your master, your lord, your god.
Even as First Prime, first among Apophis' Jaffa, Teal'c bent his knee innumerable times. He forced his body into an obeisance he no longer felt, kept his secrets carefully restrained. Even a human slave could be crafty, dangerous, and Apophis was no slave, no fool, and wary of even his most trusted and loyal servant.
He would bide his time, wait for the right moment, and make his move.
You shall dwell on the glory of your lord and rejoice in his favor.
His house a ruin. His wife and son banished to exile. His fate thrown in with aliens and strangers.
Had he made the right decision? At this moment, he was almost sure he had not, and yet there still remained the same feeling that had prompted him to take up his staff weapon against his brothers. He had already seen confirmation of Apophis's fallibility, his weakness and futile attempts to control what was beyond his reach. The Nox had easily evaded all of Apophis's clumsy maneuvers, and he was certain that there would be a way to defeat him entirely, someday.
No. He had chosen right. Now he must bear the consequences and try to set this right.
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X is for X-301
by cnidarian
“If we are to die, we die well.”
It is the truth, but kelno’reem still evades him. He tries to clear his mind, but his thoughts return to his guilt and his unwillingness to leave O’Neill to die alone.
He curses himself for his lack of judgement. For not considering the lengths Apophis would go to to punish the shol’va. Despite his reserved assessment of the hybrid test flight, he had taken enjoyment in the thrill, the speed. He’d let it blind him. With the chance to use the Goa’uld’s own technology against them, he’d allowed himself to join O’Neill, Major Carter and the Generals in their pride.
And now he is taking the fall and bringing his brother with him.
He clenches his fists against the feelings, seeking the necessary calm. Every minute he cannot meditate, he consumes more of the oxygen his friend so desperately needs.
As a final act of contrition, he sinks into Kelno’reem, the dark embrace as unforgiving as his own fading thoughts.
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Y is for Yield
by uniquinum
He would not yield, and yet life had broken him and forced him to yield to many things.
He had spent most of his life refusing to yield, his commitment, pride and determination would allow nothing else, and yet he was a broken man. Broken by those around him, broken by trust, love, wonderment, joy and hope. Broken by things he had not believed in for many years, trust was hard earned and given to few, love was sparse very rarely true, wonderment joy and hope simply did not exist except in the deepest recesses of his mind and heart, recesses that he didn't even know existed.
Then one day a prisoner had asked for his help and his trust to save the innocents who had done nothing to deserve the fate Apophis' presence had dealt them. Despite knowing that it could and most likely would mean his death he helped the man. He killed Jaffa who had been entrusted to his leadership, he ran and he became free. This man had not only asked for his trust but in return he had given trust, trust he didn't think he deserved but trust he would fight for to his dying breath because this stranger had given him hope that one day he would not be the only free Jaffa but one of many thousands.
He yielded to trust and hope. Trust in this stranger, and hope that he was taking the right path.
He had known from the beginning that life with the Taur'i would not be any easier than the life he had known of as Apophis' First Prime, he had known that his leap of faith by coming with O'Neill could quite possibly mean the end of his life, not at the hands of Apophis but at the hand of any others who took exception to his past. Daniel Jackson should despise him for what he had done, should be one of the many to want him dead but he didn't. He had watched Daniel Jackson's pointless attempt to stop Apophis as he left Chulak with Amaunet and Klorel and he saw that this was a man who loved deeply, a man who believed in love. He hadn't believed in love in quite sometime. He loved Drey'ac, she was his wife, but it was nothing compared to what he saw in the other mans eyes. This man who loved his wife with passion that Teal'c had only ever heard of in children's stories, and offered forgiveness and friendship to him who had taken that love away. He never truly believed that these things existed and yet here it was displayed with such fervor. He knew that he deserved no less a fate than the worst anyone had to offer him and yet he still followed them and yielded to the future they offered.
He yielded to the knowledge that true love existed and even the worst of transgressions could be forgiven.
continued here.
Z is for Zat'(some'thing)
by suzannemarie
SG-1 enjoyed the night and a quiet companionability as they sat around the campfire. Jack amused himself by idly firing a zat into the fire, making the flames dance. The others watched him lazily.
“Remember when three shots from a zat used to make things disappear?” Daniel commented suddenly.
“Yeah, why did that change?” Jack said.
Jack and Daniel looked at Sam, who shrugged. All three turned to Teal’c.
Teal’c’s stoic exterior covered his rapid thinking. After some consideration, he adopted an air of confusion. “Zat’nik’tel’s have never made things disappear,” he said.
“Yes they did,” Daniel answered.
“You are mistaken Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said firmly.
“No,” Jack said. “I distinctly remember a time when three shots from a zat made things disappear.”
“You are mistaken,” Teal’c said again. He spoke with such assurance that the others began to look uncertain.
“Carter, you remember a time when zats disintegrated things, right?” Jack asked incredulously.
“Yes I do.”
“Any explanations?”
“No. I’ve wondered about this too.”
“Zats have never made things vanish,” Teal’c reiterated.
“All three of us are wrong?” Jack demanded.
“Indeed.”
continued here.
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Teal'c Alphabet Soup - a gen anthology of ficlets on Teal'c, from A to Z. Ratings range from G to PG-13. Various spoilers for Seasons 1-10, and references to SGA Season 4.
A is for Age
by purpleshrub
He often forgot how very young the Tau'ri were.
Teal'c rarely had the occasion to see elderly humans, surrounded as he was by his fellow warriors at the SGC. They lacked the wealth of personal experience that he had, but they were not children by any means.
Certainly they were impressed by his age, but the Tau'ri were more concerned with birthdays anyway. And while Teal'c appreciated the gifts he received, he had always privately felt there were accomplishments more worthy of celebration than simply surviving another year.
When Major Ferretti invited SG-1 to such a celebration, Teal'c was disinclined to attend. However, when Major Ferretti told them, "She's my great-grandmum Pauline and she's turning 1-0-8," Teal'c's interest was piqued. He had never met a human older than himself before.
He was amazed by how frail she was, sweaters and blankets piled about her despite the heat of the day, spidery veins clearly visible on her thin, aged skin.
"Grandmum," said Major Ferretti, "these are my friends, General O'Neill--"
"Call me Jack," said O'Neill.
"My boy's name is Jack," said the woman with a smile.
"Lieutenant-Colonel Carter--"
"Pleased to meet you," Carter said. She did not shake hands as the Tau'ri customarily did, just rested one hand upon the old woman's.
The woman looked less impressed. "And your husband stays home, I suppose? Is this him?"
Daniel Jackson offered, "Just another friend. And it's an honor. Lou said you might be willing to share some events from your life--"
But her gaze had shifted beyond Daniel Jackson, and found Teal'c. "Who's the darkie?"
Teal'c's companions fell silent. He sensed their discomfort, but as he met the elder's gaze, it was not important. "I am Murray. Your progeny brings you honor." He nodded to her, a gesture of respect.
She frowned. "You fight together?"
"Indeed."
She looked at him carefully over her glasses, and smiled again. "Well you look after him then, that boy is a little hellion. Just the other week he ran some poor girl's knickers up the school flagpole!"
His teammates were smiling now, and Ferretti was bright red. "Grandmum, that was over twenty years ago!"
Twenty years was scarcely a drop of time to Teal'c or to Pauline. No wonder the Tau'ri forgot some grudges so quickly, no wonder their history disappeared into time forgotten with such ease. Already the inventions of motorized vehicles, movies and flight were two or three generations past. Already the year of Teal'c's birth was so far distant, it might as well have been light-years away.
No surprise then, that the Tau'ri were a people of fire and wonder and exploration. Like the candles of his Kel'no'reem, they burned too brightly to last for long.
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B is for Beauty
by yviwriting
Teal'c appreciates the beauty around him more than they realize. If you asked his fellow team members what Teal'c would characterize as beautiful, they would likely answer something about weapons and ships. They are wrong.
Teal'c often remembers the beauty he has left behind: the fields of Chulak, the gentle curves of his wife's body, the first rays of sunlight reflecting on his still sleeping son's face. He misses these things.
There are beautiful things on Earth, he has seen them on the television screen in his spartan quarters. Big oceans with strange, majestic animals; yellow and brown deserts that go on forever; buildings that seem taller than Goa'uld motherships, but are made of glass and steel and appear vulnerable, yet are strong. He wants to go outside and explore this beautiful world, but he has to to patient.
In all his years, Teal'c never lost the sense of wonder that all creatures possess, he just hid it deep within him. The Goa'uld do not encourage curiosity and Teal'c conformed to this. But hidden isn't lost and so it lies in his heart, waiting to get out when he is done with his mission. When the Jaffa are freed, he will have time for beauty again.
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C is for Caring
Cordiform
by kalquessa
"It's called a Valentine," Captain Carter informed him, proffering a folded card. "Cassie made a bunch in class, and Doctor Frasier said she wanted to make sure we each got one."
Teal'c accepted the card with an inclination of his head and regarded it seriously. The card itself was red, and it had been decorated with several pink shapes--hearts, he believed, though he assumed the shape to be symbolic only: it bore no resemblance to that of the organ.
"It's sort of a tradition," Captain Carter explained when he continued to examine the Valentine. "Today's a holiday, Valentine's Day. It was named after an early Christian saint--Daniel could probably explain that part better than I can--but on Valentine's Day, it's traditional to give cards like these to family and friends."
"The heart is used to denote affection in your culture, is it not?" Teal'c inquired.
"Yeah," Captain Carter grinned at him. He noted that she still held her own Valentine from Cassandra Frasier. It was adorned with another heart shape that shimmered with a rainbow of colors when it caught the light.
Teal'c considered his Valentine for another minute, then asked, "Captain Carter, I would like to request a favor of you."
"Sure, Teal'c," she replied, though her expression conveyed confusion.
"I would like to obtain the materials necessary for the construction of a Valentine for Cassandra Frasier."
"Oh." Captain Carter blinked and her look of confusion became a smile. "I think I have some cardstock in my office, and I might be able to find some colored pens or something." Her smile deepened to an expression of genuine enthusiasm. "I'll show you a really easy way to make heart shapes by folding a paper in half."
continued here.
D is for Daniel
One day of freedom--Teal'c had had that much among the Tau'ri. But today the loss of Major Kawalsky to a Goa'uld had been marked by their rituals, and Teal'c was not surprised when three soldiers closed on his flank, with three more in the narrow, gray hallway before him.
He stopped, regarded each in turn. Hard faces--mouths dragged down, eyes rimmed by red and loss. Head coming up, he could not stop the reaction. Muscles tensed, the response automatic--back, arms, legs. But he took a shallow breath, told his heart to slow. Perhaps they sought revenge--and perhaps he would find himself a just end after all. Atonement by blood was within their rights.
Folding his hands behind his back, he widened his stance. They fell into a ragged circle around him, and the one facing him took one step closer. Teal'c frowned. Unwise to reveal impatience--and to leave an opening. He could take this one down, slam the body into the two on his left, and take a fourth to the floor with a kick, leaving the remaining two confused and therefore easy prey. These Tau'ri had much to learn, and regret feathered into him that he would not be of use to them in that fashion. But guilt for other deaths, other wrongs--burned deep, buried by years--held him still.
This was their choice to make; his to allow.
The one before him--a man with thinning hair and pale eyes--gestured toward Teal'c's pouch. Teal'c knew this uniform--a marine, O'Neill had said. A jarhead, though that word made no sense.
"You've got one."
Teal'c lifted an eyebrow--ah, now he understood O'Neill's reference. Jar, perhaps, as in stuffed tight with an insufficient breadth of passage to allow a smooth flow between any contents inside and the opening. Since he saw no need to confirm the obvious, he continued to stare at the jarhead.
The man's eyes narrowed. "Damn snake--who's it after? The general? O'Neill? That what you here for--snake us all?"
With the muscle twitching in his cheek, Teal'c did not bother to hold back his words a second time. "It is impossible for a Goa'uld to take more than one host at a time--and that is well beyond the abilities of the infant I carry."
"So, we kill it before it grows--that'll take care of that. Won't it?"
This did not sound a question.
Tipping his head, Teal'c reconsidered his options. Blood justice he would allow--willful stupidity, however, could not be tolerated. Lack of thought led to a short fighting career--often for the others who were with that warrior.
Loosening his hands, letting them fall to his side, he saw fists clench around him. Shifting his weight to brace for the assault, he knew he had lost his initial opportunity. But he smiled. If death found him in this battle, it was no more than had learned to expect.
Then a voice from behind interrupted, high and clear and pushing into the circle, along with its owner--Daniel Jackson.
"Uh, 'cuse me...what's going on?"
Daniel Jackson stepped in front of Teal'c, glanced around the circle of men. He seemed oblivious to the violence hovering close like a thick, sour stench. But as Daniel Jackson kept staring at the others--expectation in his eyes and disapproval on his face--the air shifted. Daniel Jackson pushed back his open, loose bagging shirt, and put his hands on his hips, and made himself a presence that could not be ignored.
Around them, faces moved from hard to sheepish; glances dropped to the floor; hands opened and bare palms turned upwards. Daniel Jackson's frown tightened, and then he turned to Teal'c.
"Are these guys giving you a hard time?" he demanded.
Teal'c lifted an eyebrow, glanced at the others, glimpsed worry as well as irritation. And perhaps a desire not to be made to look foolish. He looked at Daniel Jackson. "We were about to discuss various methods of self-defense."
"Oh? Discuss?" Doubt lay heavy in Daniel Jackson's voice. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened, and he blinked. Then his stare sharpened and he asked, "Anything Jack needs to know about?"
O'Neill's name straightened backs, shifted feet, and had men angling away with muttered words that almost held apology. But the man in front of Teal'c stayed where he was, his face still hard, his eyes still dark.
continued here.
E is for Earth
by shutthef_up
Teal’c remembers coming to Earth after he’d made the choice that changed the course of his existence. Unwilling to continue to serve under Apophis’ cruelty and caprice, he’d made the choice in the heat of the moment at the urging of a stranger.
When he’d emerged from the Chappa’ai into a military bunker, he’d had a moment of doubt. Many weapons came to bear on him and he feared that in his moment of weakness he’d been tricked into surrendering. His new friends stood firm in his defense against their own people. They were the first to do so in many, many years.
His first view of Earth was through a television screen. It simply appeared in his quarters when he was taking a meal. He flipped through channel after channel mesmerized by the variation and sheer numbers of humanity. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But it was also frightening. The Goa’uld had always maintained that with freedom came chaos and it seemed readily apparent from what he could see.
These days, his understanding of the Tauri is better though far from complete. His time living off-base made that abundantly clear. He has come far in his time among them but he will never be one of them.
He finds himself torn between two cultures. There are elements of Tauri culture he enjoys and many things of value here. But he was born a Jaffa and Jaffa he will always be. His duty is to his people even if some of those people believe he’s been tainted by the Tauri.
Teal’c has feet in two worlds and is an outsider in both.
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F is for Faith
by beanpot
Since he had come to Earth, there had been few moments when he wasn’t with a teammate or a guard. While he knew that O’Neill and the others were frustrated, Teal’c understood. If situations had been reversed, Apophis would have slaughtered them on sight.
No mercy.
He understood why there was currently a guard posted at the doorway as he ate his meal and another a few steps behind him. He also knew why he ate alone when his teammates were unavailable. Why should they trust a person responsible for such much death?
There was a low scratch as the chair across from him was pulled out and Gen. Hammond sat down. The General said nothing as he laid a napkin across his lap and salted his food. Teal’c had found that salt was the only thing that made the food on Earth palatable. Hammond took a bite of his meatloaf and made a face before saying, “How are you today, Teal’c?”
“I am well, General Hammond,” Teal’c replied as his spoon traversed the edge of the Jello cup. Captain Carter had spent an earnest few minutes trying to find him the perfect flavor; it touched him to think his teammates were trying so hard to make him feel comfortable, even if they weren’t yet.
“Settling in okay?”
“Yes, my quarters are most comfortable, I thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need, Teal’c?”
“I would like acquire some candles and reading material.”
“I’ll see to it,” Hammond said.
continued here
G is for Glory
by rigel_7
The evening shadows deepened, throwing the figure of Bra'tac into stark relief against the darkening sky. He was clad in his full battle regalia, the heavy cloak of his office flapping at the hem as the wind caught at it. He stood with one foot braced against a hummock of grass. Somehow, it had flourished amongst the barren scree that surrounded the encampment, a lone note of green against rock and shale.
The guards at his side snapped to attention, and he turned his gaze toward his finest apprentice, who was now approaching the command post.
"First Prime Bra'tac, Nu'man sends orders from our god." Teal'c halted and bowed his head, slightly awed by the air of authority that his master radiated.
"Speak." An impatient note had crept into Bra'tac's voice, no doubt a result of the long day spent marshalling the vast force now assembled behind him on the plains. He gestured and Teal'c stepped forward, unrolling a scroll that had been covered with carefully inked glyphs.
Teal'c swallowed hard, and read the missive. "Bring glory to your god this day and serve our divine purpose. Our will is strong, and our path is clear…"
Bra'tac listened to the charges dictated to him, his expression impassive as the terms of the demanded victory grew impossible to achieve, even for renowned Jaffa that had been bred solely for the purpose of war.
As he drew to a close, Teal'c felt the first seeds of unease blossom within him. He concentrated on the engraved pattern of entwined serpents on his gauntlets and set aside his fears. Bra'tac was the warrior who had led the charge against a ten thousand strong army with only two thousand under his command and prevailed, earning a golden tattoo and the approval of a god - it was disloyal to doubt his abilities.
"Come, Teal'c," said Bra'tac. "Walk with me a while." Grasping his staff weapon, he used it to point in a sweeping arc across the plain. "Tell me what you see."
Teal'c took a moment to consider, glancing at his surroundings. "I see the vanguard of our army; warriors preparing for battle and honing their skills."
"And beyond?"
"There is nothing, only the dark of the battlefield."
"Truly?"
"There is only wind and rock, Master."
"I see the fires of the enemy." Bra'tac sighed uncharacteristically. "And they are gathered as the bee is to honey. Every warrior there burning with the desire to destroy us and win acclaim."
Teal'c felt uncomfortable. His mentor rarely showed any kind of emotion - it was almost unseemly, even unnatural for a Jaffa.
continued here.
H is for Hair
by cleothemuse
Teal'c turned the razor over in his hands, admiring the glint of the fluorescent lighting on the trio of blades. It was a marvelous invention, this razor, being both sharp and flexible. It also had a textured handle which made it easy to grip even with wet fingers, allowing its wielder to shave with little fear the sharp blades might slip.
Such a relatively small example of Tau'ri ingenuity. The Goa'uld didn't believe in using technology to create conveniences, preferring to force a slave to labor for them. A razor such as the Tau'ri used would make it relatively easy for a Goa'uld's personal attendant to shave his "master" without cutting him, but the sadistic Goa'uld had no such razors. Instead, their slaves had to perform the task with a short-bladed knife and risk being flogged if the metal slipped and drew blood.
When he first came to Earth, Teal'c had initially insisted upon using a knife and soap lather to shave his head and face, but then Daniel Jackson had introduced him to the disposable implements favored by the Tau'ri. Along with his first BIC razor, Teal'c had been gifted a can of shaving cream. The loud aerosol spray had surprised him initially, spitting out far more foam than was required and leaving a puddle of white slowly fizzling in the sink. With practice, however, he became more adept at dispensing the lather, more proficient at wielding the single-bladed shaving tool. By the time Ma'chello's body-swapping machine had misplaced O'Neill in his body--and him in O'Neill's--he'd upgraded to shaving gel, a bottle of pleasantly-scented aftershave, and a twin-bladed razor with replaceable heads.
He recalled with a smile how foreign the hair atop O'Neill's head had felt when confined to the Tau'ri's body. Not giving it another thought, he'd moved to bathroom to trim and remove the hair, only to have O'Neill--his consciousness stored in Teal'c's own body--pleading with him to not shave his head.
Shaving his head had been Teal'c's way of declaring his intentions to avenge his father's death at the hands of Cronus, and for nearly a century, he'd dutifully shaved his head to remind himself of his goal. Even after Cronus was slain by Teal'c's android twin, Teal'c had continued the practice out of habit. His need for revenge had been sated, but his desire to overthrow Goa'uld rule had only increased.
Now, with Anubis so recently destroyed in a failed attack on Earth, it seemed that final victory over the Goa'uld might be attained far sooner than anyone had dared dream. Unfortunately, that most-recent victory came at a steep cost to O'Neill, and it was still uncertain if the colonel had paid the ultimate price for the Tau'ri's continued freedom.
No, he decided, he would not think such things. Daniel Jackson was adamant that O'Neill was not dead, not yet, and that it was still possible the Asgard might respond to the requests for assistance sent by Major Carter. O'Neill was merely sleeping, the archaeologist insisted. Perhaps that was true, but for now, the man whose sacrifice had saved the world yet again was locked in a stasis chamber in a cavern beneath the ice of Antarctica.
continued here.
I is for Identity
An I for an I
by paian
Teal'c has always felt comfortable in the rocky stronghold that Stargate Command inhabits, far more than he ever did in even his sturdiest wooden home, far more even than in the palaces and palatial spacecraft of Apophis, certainly more than in the ragged tents of the poor Jaffa encampments where he dwelled as a boy, after his father had been dishonored and killed, or in the moldy, splintered barracks where the Goa'uld housed their armies-in-training. Deep in the stone, he feels at one with the hasteless, powerful rotation of the planet, the liquid fires that roil in its core, the armored layers of metal that protect its molten heart; he feels an affinity for the planet itself, as a tangible entity, that he never felt for Chulak or Dakara, or any world he conquered or explored or freed.
He has always defined himself by his allegiance and his duty -- by what he has pledged himself to. Beyond that, he has never bothered to ponder the metaphysical profundities of identity. What he is has changed greatly over the years -- a warrior in chains, a traitor, a rebel, a freedom fighter, a politician, an explorer, and, most enduringly, a member of SG-1, in fact after his induction the only constant in a team whose other members came and went -- but who he is remains the same. He would never say, as he sometimes hears, "I was a different person then." He is who he is -- grievous errors, unforgivable crimes, unbearable sacrifices, fierce triumphs and all. He is himself, and always has been, and will be for as long as he lives.
Terrans, someone once told him, are drawn with near-mystical fascination to the seas from which they evolved. The salt of those seas runs in their veins, and the seas call to them. This he believes, though the same salt runs in his veins and if those seas call to him their cry is weak, diluted by the aeons and the light-years, muted by the genetic will of prim'ta and drowned by the synthetic wash of tretonin. He believes it because this planet, the first world, the lost world, called to him the way its oceans call to them, but with a lower, older resonance, the call not of water to blood but of rock to flesh, metal to muscle, stone to bone -- a call so deep and strong that it crossed the stars.
Although apart from the cetaceans he is the least human of the higher life-forms on this planet, Earth is where he feels most human; although the places of the Jaffa lie far across a gulf of vacuum, Earth is where he feels most Jaffa, and least the suffering creation of false and ruthless gods. In the abiding, patient depths of Earth's mountains, he finds peace. On Earth, he is most himself.
"Are you sure, Teal'c?" Doctor Lam says now, holding the results of the genetic 'paternity' test she proposed and he agreed to provide samples for. She will propose studies based on those results and those studies will illuminate history and pave the way to fresh discoveries, bring honor and acclaim to worthy scientists; it was his duty and his honor to comply. But he has no need to be informed of those results.
Deep in his muscle, his flesh, his heart, his bones, he knows the answer. He answered the call. He is the answer.
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J is for Jello
The Case of the Missing Jello (Among Others)
by amidalashari
"Can I play?"
Cam's distracted for a minute by Vala's request, and he turns around as he hears the ball drop into the basket behind him. He tries glaring at Teal'c, but Teal'c just raises an eyebrow, and after a minute, he gives up.
"Do you even know the rules?" he asks, and it's not like it really matters; Vala doesn't exactly seem the type to let rules get in the way.
"Of course I do," she says, and Cam shakes his head; she's not as good a liar as she thinks she is.
"I will assist you," Teal'c offers, and Cam glares again. Teal'c looks deliberately stoic.
"Fine," he agrees, after a moment, because he knows when he's been beaten. "But that last shot doesn't count."
Teal'c inclines his head, a little too quickly, and Cam thinks he should have pressed for better terms.
Vala swishes onto the court, and Cam fetches the ball; dribbles, once, and moves forward, a grunt of surprise forced from his lips when Teal'c intercepts.
"There," Vala says, as the ball flies neatly towards the basket. "That doesn't look too hard."
Teal'c hands her the ball, and she sets off without dribbling. Cam doesn't bother to argue as he dashes forward, just missing when Teal'c lifts her up to dunk the ball into the hoop. Cam frowns, and as Vala laughs, smiling up at Teal'c, he thinks this probably wasn't the best idea he's ever had.
"You've got to bounce the ball," he says, but it's a lost cause; he's been outplayed, and he knows it.
When Teal'c and Vala win by a humiliating margin, he doesn't bother to point out that they were cheating.
-
Daniel lets out a cry of protest when Vala swipes his jello, for all the good he thinks it'll do. She digs a spoon into the bowl with a grin, and he sits back, already admitting defeat.
Across the table, Cam smirks at him, and Daniel notices he's guarding his own jello closely.
"This is good," she says between mouthfuls, and he resists the urge to point out that yes, it is, which is why he got it in the first place. He tells himself he's just afraid she'll offer to share.
Nobody, he thinks, should be able to eat jello that quickly. She glances around the table, and Cam hurriedly leaves.
"Are you going to eat that?" she asks Teal'c, who glances up from his tray. After a minute, he says, quietly, "Indeed."
"All right," she says, and shrugs. She leans back, and Daniel narrows his eyes.
"How comes you listen to him?" he asks, and the rest of the question remains unspoken.
Vala glances at him, smiling, and shrugs again. "I like Teal'c."
Across the table, Teal'c almost grins, and finishes his jello.
continued here.
K is for Kheb
They spread out as they walked through the trees toward the temple. Once Bra'tac and Teal'c had pulled slightly ahead of the others, Teal'c asked, "Was it your father who taught you to track, Master?"
"My father hunted as a boy," Bra'tac said. "He learned to track animals, and found the skills even more useful when hunting more dangerous prey."
"He was a warrior, was he not?" Teal'c said.
"He died in battle when I was still young," Bra'tac said. "He gained a great victory over Heru-ur. Apophis took me into his service in his place, as a reward for my father's service." He smiled humorlessly. "He did not know how little love my father bore him. His lack of insight told me that all my father had taught me of the Goa'uld was truth."
"And he told you of Kheb?"
"He told me that a Jaffa's body might belong to the Goa'uld, but his calak was his own," Bra'tac said softly. "I think he would have sought Kheb himself, had he lived."
Teal'c hesitated a moment, then asked the question he had been working toward. "What did you mean, that if this is Kheb, the time of your ending may be at hand?"
Bra'tac paused to scan the ground ahead, then moved forward. "You have always been a practical man, Teal'c. You have never had much regard for religion."
Teal'c frowned. "It was you who taught me the folly of worshiping false gods."
The older Jaffa slowed and gave him a reproving look. "You allied with Apophis to seek revenge on Chronus. I did not need to teach you to rebel, Teal'c, you already believed you had the right to rebuke a god."
The thought was a new one and Teal'c considered it gravely. "It had not occurred to me in that light," he confessed. "But it is true I expected more from gods than the Goa'uld could provide."
"Yet even though the Goa'uld are not gods, yet we still have our calaks, do we not?" Bra'tac gave him a strangely penetrating look. "Or do you not believe in the calak, Teal'c?"
Teal'c hesitated, "I do not know, Master." Teal'c had been raised to believe in the godhood of the Goa'uld, and then rejected those beliefs. He had never wasted much consideration on Jaffa legend.
Read on LJ or on website.
L is for Loyalty
The first lesson Teal’c learned about loyalty was that it was owed to his god, as one who cared for his worshippers, who was pleased with the service of his loyal Jaffa. Teal’c’s loyalty carried him to his place as First Prime, but barely lasted beyond his first battle as commander. He could not be loyal to one who squandered lives.
Teal’c’s second lesson in loyalty was that it was expected by one such as Bra’tac. If you had the honor of his tutelage, you accepted praise and rebuke with the same spirit. To do less would dishonor the man who was your teacher.
Teal’c’s third lesson in loyalty was that as much as you might wish to offer it to an equal, he would not accept it until it was earned. O’Neill’s fierce defense on Teal’c’s behalf against the NID earned Teal’c’s loyalty long before O’Neill was willing to look at his own reflection and not find himself wanting.
From the rest of SG-1, Teal’c learned what he believes may be the final lesson of loyalty: that in its truest form, it is returned to you far more valuable than in its original offering. It is molten, tested, and purified in the hands of a man who fires an alien weapon to destroy the tool which could save his wife, to save his wife’s kidnapper instead. It is burnished to a shine by the unstinting friendship of a woman whose worldview is entirely other, but whose acceptance and capacity for trust are near boundless.
Loyalty, in this form, defies odds and authorities, saves worlds and individuals, is never accepted without a return. On SG-1, Teal’c realizes, loyalty works remarkably like love.
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M is for Ma'chello
by sg_betty
Teal’c might have admired Ma’chello, but he did not.
Ma’chello had been twisted by his long struggle, his great losses. He thought no more for the victims of his schemes than the Goa’uld. Twice, Ma’chello had almost taken Daniel Jackson’s life from him.
Once, it was by stealing Daniel Jackson’s body. Ma’chello thought to keep it; to claim a new life as a reward for his battles, as though Daniel Jackson’s life had no meaning. To keep it like a Goa’uld stealing the body of the host, like a parasite.
The second time was after Ma’chello’s death. His device had stolen Daniel Jackson’s sanity. His life was lost to the prison that the Tauri called a ‘psychiatric facility’, his clever mind in ruins.
The device had left Daniel Jackson to attack his symbiote. Teal’c was grateful for this, although he, himself, had almost died. Had it not, Daniel Jackson would have remained a captive in that prison; never again free, never able to tell of history, ideas, and adventure.
There had been no dishonor in Ma’chello’s goal, but there was great dishonor in his methods. Teal’c knew this to be true.
If Ma’chello had taken Daniel Jackson’s life, Teal’c would not be preparing for this day’s task. He looked forward to it greatly.
Teal’c put on his hat, pulling the brim low on his forehead, hiding the mark of Apophis. He was ready; soon Daniel Jackson would arrive.
Today, he would buy a ‘birthday present’ for his friend. Not one acquired for him or that he had been told was welcome, but one that he would choose himself. Teal’c knew where to obtain this gift. It must be a bookstore. He would pick a fine book that spoke to him of Daniel Jackson; of strange and wonderful places, of great knowledge, of humanity and exploration.
Daniel Jackson did not know the true purpose of this errand. Teal’c would not tell him. He wished to see the expressions on his teammate’s face as he showed him books of interest. When he found one that produced the response he desired, he would purchase it. He would say, “This is for you, Daniel Jackson. Happy Birthday.”
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N is for Naquadah
by annieau08
His first months on Earth are filled with discoveries.
Not everything is completely alien, but even those things somewhat familiar to him are just different enough that he spends much of his time figuring out how to navigate in this new world. And so he memorizes the route from his quarters to the commissary, to the infirmary, to the gym and to the gateroom. He identifies the various paths between the labs of Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter, and quickly determines the importance of the Earth beverage, coffee. He learns to say paper instead of parchment, how to write his name and use a telephone and work zippers and toilets and P-90’s and television sets.
He teaches as well. He tells the Tau’ri all he knows about the Goa’uld, about the System Lords, about the accuracy of staff weapons and the weaknesses in Jaffa armor, about worlds worth exploring and worlds to avoid. He discusses different Jaffa fighting tactics with O’Neill. He helps Daniel Jackson practice his Goa’uld. He gives Captain Carter drawings and definitions and every last detail he can remember about Goa’uld technology. And he watches in awe and wonder as his teammates take what he gives them and use it to fight, to explore, to discover, and to create in ways he would have never imagined.
But for all of the wonders he sees and all he learns during his first days on Earth, there is still an emptiness inside him, a subtle but unrelenting lacking that creeps up on him in the silent moments. An emptiness that does not stem from a single cause but is comprised of numerous elements woven together - elements that he slowly begins to isolate and identify in those moments when he is not learning or teaching, not fighting or exploring.
Some of these missing elements are easily recognizable; the lack of his freedom, his family, his people (his god the voice of the past whispers to him, but it grows weaker with each day, with each victory, with each moment of hope). These losses are understandable, and the pain from them sometimes threatens to drown him in guilt and grief.
But there is one element he cannot seem to identify. One that has him seeking out Captain Carter in the control room late at night to watch silently as she works on the Stargate (Chappa’ai the voice insists, but its scornful hiss is lost under his teammate’s enthusiastic ramblings about energy outputs and gate addresses). One that causes him to constantly double-check the location of his teammates in the field, an unfamiliar need he attributes to his uncertainties about their abilities and their inexperience working as a team. One that haunts him even when he has managed to temporarily silence all the rest.
It isn’t until he stands in the broken remnants of the home given to him by Apophis and hears Bra’tac’s voice again that he begins to understand. For when he steps close to embrace his friend and mentor, he is struck by a visceral jolt of recognition as his symbiote senses the presence of one of its own.
Naquadah.
It is a feeling that he has not experienced since the day he turned his weapon on his fellow Serpent guards and chose to place his dreams for freedom into the hands of the Tau’ri. The knowing that comes when he shares space with another who possesses a symbiote. That indescribable awareness within that brings with it is a sense of completion, of belonging, of being Jaffa.
continued here.
O is for Oranges
by janedavitt
Teal'c drops the orange peel onto his tray, an emptied hollow, a shed skin, and splits off a segment of the flesh. As he bites into it, a pip, slippery, small, catches in his throat. He coughs, swallows, and tastes blood.
Not his. A memory, no more. This fruit grows on other worlds than this -- the Goa'uld have seen to that -- and the false god, Apophis, loved their sweet, tangy juice. Teal'c has seen cartons of orange juice in the supermarket, stacked high, kept cool; a bewildering variety of it. Extra pulp, no pulp, Florida, Grovestand, made from concentrate, added calcium… Apophis had merely asked for the juice when he wanted it and a slave had squeezed it from the fruit, kneeling in front of her god at a small, low table set with golden tools worth many times more than the slave.
The knife and strainer, jug and goblet did not need to be made of gold for that to be true, of course; a slave was worthless.
And that slave, that day, had been careless and allowed a pip to remain in the juice.
The blood that had sprayed when the slave was beheaded had painted Teal'c's face and dripped onto his lips, heavy and sticky. He'd wiped it away when he could, but by then it had dried, flaking off, dull and dark, like the slave's eyes in death.
Mit'ra. That had been her name.
And he had been as angry as Apophis that she had offered their god a less than perfect service and pleased with himself for the smoothness of his stroke.
Teal'c recalls another juice he has seen offered for sale, expensive this one, in a small glass bottle.
Blood orange.
Yes.
He thinks he knows what that tastes like, too.
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P is for Parachute
by sg_wonderland
“O’Neill.” I smirk inwardly as he jolts in surprise.
“God! T, would you quit doing that!” His eyes are dark and furious.
“It was not my intention to frighten you, O’Neill.” I lie smoothly.
His expression says I have not fooled him. “Come on, Teal’c. The plane’ll be here in a few minutes.”
I stand stiffly, unmoving. “I will not be entering that vessel again.”
He frowns at me. “I don’t know how you think you’re gonna get home then. It’s not like you can catch the next Stargate out of here.”
“My latest experience with this form of travel was most unpleasant. I do not intend to once again exit the vessel at a high rate of speed with only a thin layer of fabric to prevent a plummet to certain death.”
There is a distinct snicker behind me. I turn and glare at Daniel Jackson; there was a time this look would have cowed him. It gives me no pleasure to see him stand his ground although Dr. Markov takes a cautious step that places her behind Daniel Jackson. “Pay no attention, Teal’c. Jack’s just pissed off.”
“Because?” I inquire.
“Because the highly trained Air Force macho jocks with plenty of parachuting experience landed a mile away from the target and the two untrained amateurs landed in the front yard.” He steps around me and guides Dr. Markov into another corner of the control room, chattering in an unintelligible language.
“That,” I sniff haughtily, hiding a surge of satisfaction, “is of no consequence. I will not ‘jump’ from this vessel again.”
“You won’t have to, Teal’c. We’re gonna land the old fashioned way. On a runway.”
I take a step closer. “If you feel the need to once again force me to exit a vessel in this manner, you will not live long enough to regret the action, O’Neill.”
Much like Daniel Jackson, he doesn’t back away from me, although his eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Then he inexplicably smiles. “I can never tell when you’re kidding these days.”
“I am not.”
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Q is for Questions
by pepper_field
When Teal'c was very young, he was also very curious. His mother smiled, patting his head with a hand wet from washing, so that he wriggled away, indignantly. Why did she do that, when she knew he did not like washing his hair? "When will you learn enough, sha'shan? Will your head ever be full?"
"But why, mama?"
"However did you get your tunic this stained, Teal'c?"
Young Teal'c, taking that to mean that she would answer no more questions right now, went to find his father instead. His father was sat on the cutting log, looking off into the distance, to where the temple towered against the sky.
"Father, mama won't tell me why the white birds have blue eggs."
Teal'c's father did not turn around. Teal'c stood patiently, knowing that, in a moment, his father would glance back, with a sober expression, but an amused twinkle in his eye. That was how Teal'c knew that his father loved him: because of that twinkle. His father was taking a long time about it, though.
"Father," he said again, after waiting patiently for a moment more. "Mama won't tell me-"
"Teal'c," said his father, and still did not turn. "No questions right now," he said, but gently. He glanced back at last, and Teal'c felt odd, all of a sudden. His father was not twinkling at him. "I have received a great honor, Teal'c," he said. "The Great God Cronus wishes me to be his First Prime."
Teal'c frowned, puzzled. His father had said it was a great honor, and so it must be true - but his father didn't sound like he was telling the truth.
His father reached out to rest his hand on Teal'c's shoulder, as if he were a man. "Fetch your mother to me," he said. "I must tell her the good news."
Teal'c kept his questions silent in his head, and ran to fetch his mother.
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R is for Ry'ac
by princessofg
O’Neill had excused himself to what he smilingly insisted on referring to as the “Little Boys’ Room”, leaving Teal’c standing in the crowd. The mass of shoppers flowed around him like a stream. O’Neill had warned him that Saturday afternoon was busy here at the mall, but Teal’c did not find crowds a source of discomfort.
His hands clasped loosely behind his back, he glanced at the sacks of clothing and candles and magazines that were piled on the bench and floor beside him. His instinct earlier had been to reach for them all, to carry them for O’Neill, but he had stopped himself before either acting or asking. He was not a servant. O’Neill was his commander, but not his master. It was good to remind himself of that, to say that over and over. Daily he weighed the cost, but he could, at last, say to himself, “I live free,” instead of vowing only, as Bra’tac had taught him, to die free.
He glanced around the wide hall, with its tiled floor, its skylights and potted bushes and small trees and masses of people. His clothing was appropriate. The unfamiliar winter cap was tight and scratchy against his head. People on this planet rarely wore cloaks or hoods, which would have felt more familiar to him, but the familiar was something Teal’c was entirely able to sacrifice. Near the benches where he stood, there was the bookstore, and a clothing store for females, and the next window of floor-to-ceiling glass did not seem to be a store. He looked more closely.
Inside, behind the glass, a dozen boys formed a moving, untidy line. They all were dressed identically in white, with sashes of different colors. A man stood before them, holding out a padded training paddle, which they kicked, one by one. The man offered a word or a nod to each. Sometimes, smiling, he whacked one gently on the head, undoubtedly for some trivial offense.
As Teal’c watched, a memory intruded -- a small, eager-faced boy, too small for the discipline of lok’nel, but interested anyway in anything and everything his father did. Teal’c had cut a child’s-height staff for him from a tree branch, and they had spent precious afternoons playing at practice, the hours rolling by like minutes on that green lawn, under the warm, fast-setting sun.
“Hey.” O’Neill’s voice, at his shoulder. Teal’c turned. The colonel had his hands in his pockets. He frowned a little, searching Teal’c’s face, and then turned to look where Teal’c had looked. “Karate class. That’s a Japanese word; it’s one of what we call the martial arts.” O’Neill turned and began to pick up the sacks containing his purchases. Teal’c moved to do the same. Their loads were approximately equal, he noted.
“We can hit that barbecue place I was telling you about next. Unless you want to hang out for a while.” O’Neill’s lip curled a little in what Teal’c had learned was the beginning of his smile. “If you’re interested in karate.”
“It is nothing,” Teal’c replied, settling the thin plastic handles in his grip. He turned away from the boys’ intent faces, prepared to let O’Neill lead the way to the next destination.
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S is for Shol'vah
by traycer_
Shol'vah.
The word reverberated through his mind, despite his best efforts in thinking of other more important issues. Teal'c sat in a chair in the cell he had been brought to, staring straight ahead at the gray walls that surrounded him and matched his mood. He had made the decision to trust the man who claimed he could save those people in Apophis' prison, but the initial regrets were beginning to crowd out his confidence.
He was a shol'vah. He had betrayed his Lord, and in doing so, he had also betrayed his family. His wife and son would suffer for his betrayal, but perhaps Master Bray'tac would find a way to protect them. Teal'c hung on to that thought as he worked through his act of unfaithfulness. His friend would take action in protecting Drey'auc and Rya'c, while inwardly chastising Teal'c for his foolishness. Bray'tac would protect his family. After all, it was Bray'tac who instilled the doubts within him.
Shol'vah.
The word tormented him as memories of what he had done filtered through his thoughts. He had turned on his own Jaffa, the same men who had sworn allegiance to Apophis, and by proxy, to follow Teal'c. The impulse to turn on the Jaffa in favor of helping O'Neill did not come out of desperation or fear. Teal'c had calculated his move almost from the time he had first visited O'Neill's world. The weapons and the determination the warriors displayed when defending their base and the female among them proved that they were part of a powerful force. He knew then that these people were technologically farther along than any other planet he had visited. And if given the opportunity, he would use that knowledge to find the freedom Master Bray'tac wanted. He had no choice.
He turned his thoughts to the planet where Amaunet's host had been found. Teal'c had been surprised to find the same weapons trained on him and his Jaffa. He did not know where those people had obtained the weapons, but he did understand the same determination that lived in their hearts. They were fighters, and he remembered the hatred blazing out of the eyes of the young man whom he had cornered.
"This is not your weapon," he had said. "How did you acquire it?"
The young man did not give him the answer he needed, but Teal'c soon learned the truth when he saw O'Neill and the young man together in Apophis' prison. Perhaps that was the moment he began to feel stirrings of hope that his people could be free. The fortitude and courage O'Neill and his people displayed were encouraging signs. These were the people he would turn to for help.
But acquiring that help was not without regrets. Teal'c stared at the walls of his cell, wondering if he had made a mistake in trusting O'Neill. There was no choice at the time he made the rash decision to free the prisoners, but now that he had time to meditate and think, he worried that perhaps he erred in his haste to find freedom for the Jaffa.
continued here.
T is for Tabloid
by sg_fignewton
Teal'c first discovered tabloid magazines when he found a rolled-up copy of The International Questioner in Sergeant Siler's toolbox.
It happened during those tedious three months when O'Neill was trapped on Edora. Major Carter spent her days - and most of her nights - working on the particle accelerator, while Daniel Jackson struggled with a backlog of translations, his dealings with the Edoran refugees, and his efforts to ensure that Major Carter did not drive herself into exhaustion. Teal'c did not resent their absent-minded neglect; he knew it only due to distraction and overwork. But he found himself missing O'Neill more keenly than ever.
General Hammond, of course, kept Teal'c well occupied. With the general's endorsement, he continued to offer training exercises in the gym to the members of the SGC, and he often accompanied other teams through the Stargate on missions. Nevertheless, as he paced the harshly-lit hallways after a session of kel'no'reem, Teal'c was all too aware that he had not seen the Tau'ri sun or moon or stars for weeks, and he found himself missing the sharp scent of Chulak's chilly nights with an intensity that surprised him.
On one of those nightly vigils of the SGC's lower levels, he came across Sergeant Siler balanced precariously on a ladder, struggling to repair a minor fault in the security system. Teal'c, pleased with even a minor distraction from his frustrated boredom, offered his assistance. He quite liked the taciturn sergeant, who handled the most bizarre circumstances with laconic aplomb, and he soon found himself working together with the man in companionable silence.
They were carefully replacing the sergeant's tools in his toolbox when Teal'c noticed the magazine tucked under the slots of screwdrivers.
"What is this, Sergeant Siler?" he asked curiously. His ingrained sense of privacy would not allow him to take remove the magazine and inspect it without permission, but he could not resist the question.
He was surprised to see a large grin spread across the man's face.
"Hasn't the colonel introduced you to tabloids yet, Teal'c? Ah..." Sergeant Siler flushed a little, no doubt remembering that O'Neill was not in a position to introduce Teal'c to anything. Then he recovered and took the magazine, unrolling it with a flourish. "I'm finished with it. Here, enjoy."
Teal'c blinked at the lurid colors and the screaming headline - TWO-HEADED BABY BORN IN KANSAS! - and accepted the gift with a courteous nod. He filed the term "tabloids" away in his head for future reference.
continued here.
U is for Undomesticated Equines
by maevebran
Teal'c sat in his room Kel'no'reeming and reflecting on Colonel Samantha Carter's recent departure for Atlantis. He had assured her that undomesticated equines wouldn't keep him from visiting her. It was not the first time he had used that phrase as an emphasis of his friendship, nor likely would it be the last.
The first had been that time that the supposed time capsule had pinned O'Neill to the gate room wall. He had not left O'Neill's side. Teal'c had done all he could and still failed to affect a cure but he had done the one thing needed and that was staying by his friend's side. Undomesticated equines, indeed.
There had been many occasions over the years where he had reaffirmed the vow that nothing would take him from friends' sides. The time he had come face to face with Sha're and Daniel had had to deliver her child by Apophis was one. Teal'c never uttered the words then but he had made the vow to himself.
Another had been when he had been forced to kill Sha're. Teal'c was pretty sure he was not the only member of the team, and maybe even Stargate Command, to make an internal vow to Daniel Jackson at that time. O'Neill and Major Carter had taken turns with him to make sure Daniel Jackson was never alone for the first few weeks.
Teal'c had made the vow to himself about Major Carter and Daniel Jackson when O'Neill had gone missing for the hundred days. He felt he had failed O'Neill but he wouldn't fail Daniel Jackson or Major Carter. They had retrieve O'Neill only for him to leave again on that covert mission. Teal'c was there for both his other teammates when they had needed to rant and rave at O'Neill's apparent lack of morals. He was there again when they had needed to let out their disbelief at O'Neill's mistrust of them, a feeling he had shared, but no matter what with O'Neill's return, Teal'c reaffirmed the vow.
The ultimate test of that vow in those early years had been when Teal'c and O'Neill had been sent out into deep space in the hybrid glider. Teal'c had risked his own life to meditate deep enough to not use as much oxygen so O'Neill could have a longer chance of being rescued.
continued here.
V is for Vala
"I can't believe this is how the Tau'ri imagine aliens from outer space!" Vala tossed a few loose popcorn kernels back into the dregs of the bowl then rose to eject the dvd. "I mean, okay granted that one alien reminds me of the krakatou creatures of Ladskaff, but on the whole, the stories are totally ridiculous."
"Hmm," was Teal'c's only response. He had forgotten about the krakatou. That one minor alien in the movie was reminiscent of them.
"I have to admit, if I had this..." Vala paused to read the credits on the dvd box again, "...Will Smith chasing after me, I might pause to get caught myself...well maybe not caught, but at least chased a little."
Teal'c did not deign to make any response to that.
"Are there really Men in Black?"
"That segment of Homeworld Security has often been handled by the NID." Teal'c frowned. "On the whole, they are not as entertaining as Mr. Jones or Mr. Smith. In fact, at times they can be quite disreputable. You would do well to avoid contact with them, Vala Mal Doran." He paused, remembering Malcolm Barrett, who helped exonerate O'Neill. "There are exceptions, however."
Vala Mal Doran's attention had already moved on to glancing over the dvd collection. Teal'c had to admit, the personnel that stocked the base library had an odd sense of humor, since there was an inordinate amount of movies from the science fiction genre. He watched her fingers flip idly over the stacks then come to rest on the Weekly World Examiner Teal'c had left on the end table. The headline read "Frozen Alien Babies found in Ice Cream Parlor". She waved the newspaper at him.
"So if all this alien invasion stuff is part of their popular culture, why does their government keep the Stargate Program secret from them? I mean, get the right producer, some attractive token aliens...say a black haired gorgeous woman and handsome, muscle-y former First Prime, and all this worry about budget for the program would be gone. They'd have movie of the week deals like that!" She snapped her fingers.
continued here.
W is for Worship
by holdouttrout
Your god speaks truth to you. Serve him and he will reward you richly.
There were many doubts in Teal'c's mind, confusing whirls of patterns of words uttered by Apophis, his lord, that clashed and clattered against other smooth lies he'd heard the god tell the other Divine Ones. Usurpers, he knew, and worthy only to be crushed under Apophis' foot. Still, if a god lied to another god, how could his words be trusted?
Teal'c was yet young. He shook off the questions, but kept them hidden in his heart, averted his eyes as was only proper.
You shall kneel in the presence of your master, your lord, your god.
Even as First Prime, first among Apophis' Jaffa, Teal'c bent his knee innumerable times. He forced his body into an obeisance he no longer felt, kept his secrets carefully restrained. Even a human slave could be crafty, dangerous, and Apophis was no slave, no fool, and wary of even his most trusted and loyal servant.
He would bide his time, wait for the right moment, and make his move.
You shall dwell on the glory of your lord and rejoice in his favor.
His house a ruin. His wife and son banished to exile. His fate thrown in with aliens and strangers.
Had he made the right decision? At this moment, he was almost sure he had not, and yet there still remained the same feeling that had prompted him to take up his staff weapon against his brothers. He had already seen confirmation of Apophis's fallibility, his weakness and futile attempts to control what was beyond his reach. The Nox had easily evaded all of Apophis's clumsy maneuvers, and he was certain that there would be a way to defeat him entirely, someday.
No. He had chosen right. Now he must bear the consequences and try to set this right.
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X is for X-301
by cnidarian
“If we are to die, we die well.”
It is the truth, but kelno’reem still evades him. He tries to clear his mind, but his thoughts return to his guilt and his unwillingness to leave O’Neill to die alone.
He curses himself for his lack of judgement. For not considering the lengths Apophis would go to to punish the shol’va. Despite his reserved assessment of the hybrid test flight, he had taken enjoyment in the thrill, the speed. He’d let it blind him. With the chance to use the Goa’uld’s own technology against them, he’d allowed himself to join O’Neill, Major Carter and the Generals in their pride.
And now he is taking the fall and bringing his brother with him.
He clenches his fists against the feelings, seeking the necessary calm. Every minute he cannot meditate, he consumes more of the oxygen his friend so desperately needs.
As a final act of contrition, he sinks into Kelno’reem, the dark embrace as unforgiving as his own fading thoughts.
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Y is for Yield
by uniquinum
He would not yield, and yet life had broken him and forced him to yield to many things.
He had spent most of his life refusing to yield, his commitment, pride and determination would allow nothing else, and yet he was a broken man. Broken by those around him, broken by trust, love, wonderment, joy and hope. Broken by things he had not believed in for many years, trust was hard earned and given to few, love was sparse very rarely true, wonderment joy and hope simply did not exist except in the deepest recesses of his mind and heart, recesses that he didn't even know existed.
Then one day a prisoner had asked for his help and his trust to save the innocents who had done nothing to deserve the fate Apophis' presence had dealt them. Despite knowing that it could and most likely would mean his death he helped the man. He killed Jaffa who had been entrusted to his leadership, he ran and he became free. This man had not only asked for his trust but in return he had given trust, trust he didn't think he deserved but trust he would fight for to his dying breath because this stranger had given him hope that one day he would not be the only free Jaffa but one of many thousands.
He yielded to trust and hope. Trust in this stranger, and hope that he was taking the right path.
He had known from the beginning that life with the Taur'i would not be any easier than the life he had known of as Apophis' First Prime, he had known that his leap of faith by coming with O'Neill could quite possibly mean the end of his life, not at the hands of Apophis but at the hand of any others who took exception to his past. Daniel Jackson should despise him for what he had done, should be one of the many to want him dead but he didn't. He had watched Daniel Jackson's pointless attempt to stop Apophis as he left Chulak with Amaunet and Klorel and he saw that this was a man who loved deeply, a man who believed in love. He hadn't believed in love in quite sometime. He loved Drey'ac, she was his wife, but it was nothing compared to what he saw in the other mans eyes. This man who loved his wife with passion that Teal'c had only ever heard of in children's stories, and offered forgiveness and friendship to him who had taken that love away. He never truly believed that these things existed and yet here it was displayed with such fervor. He knew that he deserved no less a fate than the worst anyone had to offer him and yet he still followed them and yielded to the future they offered.
He yielded to the knowledge that true love existed and even the worst of transgressions could be forgiven.
continued here.
Z is for Zat'(some'thing)
by suzannemarie
SG-1 enjoyed the night and a quiet companionability as they sat around the campfire. Jack amused himself by idly firing a zat into the fire, making the flames dance. The others watched him lazily.
“Remember when three shots from a zat used to make things disappear?” Daniel commented suddenly.
“Yeah, why did that change?” Jack said.
Jack and Daniel looked at Sam, who shrugged. All three turned to Teal’c.
Teal’c’s stoic exterior covered his rapid thinking. After some consideration, he adopted an air of confusion. “Zat’nik’tel’s have never made things disappear,” he said.
“Yes they did,” Daniel answered.
“You are mistaken Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said firmly.
“No,” Jack said. “I distinctly remember a time when three shots from a zat made things disappear.”
“You are mistaken,” Teal’c said again. He spoke with such assurance that the others began to look uncertain.
“Carter, you remember a time when zats disintegrated things, right?” Jack asked incredulously.
“Yes I do.”
“Any explanations?”
“No. I’ve wondered about this too.”
“Zats have never made things vanish,” Teal’c reiterated.
“All three of us are wrong?” Jack demanded.
“Indeed.”
continued here.