All Stargate SG-1 characters are the property of MGM Ltd/ Double Secret Productions/ Gekko Film Corp. Team SG-999 characters are based on real people (you all know who you areÖ!)
This story is meant to be a homage to all things Stargate and does not supersede any copyright.
This is a tribute to Ronny Cox whom I had the pleasure of meeting in Glasgow some time ago. And boy, can the man sing or what!
Agrescit Medendo is the Latin motto for SG-999. It means, "The cure is worse than the disease." Why did I choose this as the title? Well, read on and youíll find out.
Many thanks to everyone at SG-999, without whom none of this madness would be possible. Special thanks to Ronnie Beaton who has been a source of valuable material and has been, in part at least, the inspiration for this outing.
Theme: Sci-Fi/ Humour
Timeframe: At the start of Season Eight, following on from events in "Lost City" (Season Seven Finale.), and several weeks after "Rising" (Stargate Atlantis Premier.)
Spoilers: Hey, no way. Itís not my fault if youíre too impatient to read the story. Sheesh!
By John Gallacher
General OíNeill sat at his desk, wading through the piles of paperwork that had somehow began breeding, no matter how fast he tried to clear it. Just when he would think that it was gone, POW! Another load would miraculously appear.
Maybe thatís why Hammond went bald. The paperwork got to him.
Mission reports, tactical reports, orders from above, SG-999ís misadventures; it all just seemed to appear from thin air. God, he missed the old days. He didnít need to worry about anyone elseís safety, bar his own and those in his command. Now, he was THE commander and he hated every minute of it. Except the pay cheque, the parking spaceÖ! Damn you, Weir. How did you manage to convince me? he thought. It was only a matter of weeks since Weir had led a team through to Atlantis and right now, he was wishing that she were back taking charge of the SGC.
He managed to finish off the last piece pf paperwork, toss it into the relevant folder and hurl the thing into the pile he marked "Out-Thank God!". Heíd only just given himself a self-congratulation when the phone rang. Grunting disapprovingly of the distraction, he picked it up.
It was his assistant in the reception area elsewhere on the base that answered.
"Sir, Iíve Senator Kinsey here to see you. He says itís urgent and that itís personal."
Iíll bet. ĎCause it always is.
"Thatís OK. Send him in."
"Very good, sir."
OíNeill was puzzled. What kind of business did Kinsey have with him? It couldnít be about Maybourne. And he hadnít said anything nasty about Kinsey. At least, not outside the gentís latrine. Either way, it wasnít good and fortunately he didnít have long to wait. The senator stormed through the conference room and barged right into the office without any of the usual formalities.
"Colonel OíNeill, I want a full apology from you this instant." snapped Kinsey.
"AhÖ!" interrupted OíNeill, gently tapping the nameplate on his desk, making sure that he was pointing at the Brigadier General part.
Kinsey simply frowned. But OíNeill was still none the wiser for the visit.
"What do you want me to apologise for, Kinsey?"
"Those so-called bodyguards that you assigned to me."
Suddenly, the penny dropped. But even so, what was he complaining about.
"Senator, I was following the Presidentís orderís. I was to provide a protection service and thatís what I did. I sent one of my SG teams to do that."
"You sent SG-treble nine to protect me."
"Yeah, whatís wrong with that?"
"Itís the way that they do it, Colonel."
Obviously, Kinsey didnít get the earlier hint.
"Firstly, I got the promotion whilst you got the demotion. Secondly, SG-999 is a Tactical Rescue team and that means doing a lot of varied things in the field and close protection comes under that."
OíNeill leaned back in the leather backed chair. That last remark was a belter and he felt good about it. He also knew that Kinsey was really going to come out fighting. After Kinsey was fired as Vice-President, the President realised that there might be some crank out there who might try to pop the senator to try to make himself a minor celebrity in that "I killed a former vice-president who was crooked" way. So he asked OíNeill who might be best suited to offer protection and SG-999ís name came up. The President also knew that this would be like rubbing salt in the wound and there was nothing that Kinsey could do about it except smile politely in public and say nothing.
"Besides, what about them thatís gotten you so steamed up?"
"They have a bear that steals chocolate and it is a menace."
"That, Kinsey, is one of their mascots and if you take SG-999, youíll have to take the whole parcel. That includes chocolate stealing bears." He deliberately avoided mentioning Scoobieís name, but he made it a note to get Scoobie that 1kg bar of chocolate that they always sell at Christmas, as a big thank you and an order to continue like that (or even more so) in Kinseyís presence.
"I donít want SG-999 and that means no chocolate stealing bears." snarled Kinsey, "I want another team assigned."
"There isnít another, and even it there were, they didnít want this assignment. Believe me, I asked them all."
Kinsey rose to his full height and walked from the desk. He walked a couple of paces, fastened his jacket, straightened it and came back to the desk, looking a little more calmer than before.
"ColÖ I mean, General, I appreciate that your SG team is only trying to help me, but they are not letting me go about my business."
Now this sounded serious.
"During an ambassador party, two of the team fast-roped down and pulled out their guns."
OíNeill instantly knew who would be responsible; Brian Craig and Craig Mennie.
"And the problem isÖ?"
"At the French ambassador?"
OíNeill gulped inwardly.
"So, was the ambassador armed?"
"No!" roared Kinsey.
"How do you know? He may have been concealing a dangerous weapon or even a Golden Delicious."
Kinsey wasnít laughing.
"I donít know how you got your job or even how you hoodwinked the President into this little scheme. But I do know one thing; you wonít be laughing for long. Hammond may be gone, but Iíll make sure that youíll be going the same way."
"You mean that Iíll be getting another promotion? Gee, thanks Kinsey, but Iím still settling into this one first."
OíNeill stared at the senator for a long time, just to let him know that he wasnít kidding. Kinsey narrowed his eyes. Despite his best efforts, OíNeill and the SGC were still standing and thumbing their noses into his face. Kinsey was a survivor. He suffered worse and still came out smelling like roses. But the Stargate, in his opinion, represented a threat that made him smell like he had just stepped in something that a dog shouldnít do on pavements. Better yet, a horse. With diarrhoea.
"Another thing." continued Kinsey
"Yes?" sighed OíNeill.
"Iím not sure about the colonelís language. For instance what does "Yer claimed, pal", "Get that stitched" and "Yer teaís oot?" mean?"
OíNeill scratched his head.
"WellÖ it meansÖ when aÖ. what the hell, I donít have a damn clue either. Itís either his Scottish phrases or a secret code that the team use. No one at Stargate Command knows what it means either."
"I see, but does Dr. Jackson have to wear those glasses?"
"He canít see otherwise."
"But do they have to have bulging bloodshot eyeballs as holograms on the lenses?"
OíNeill squinted at Kinsey. The man was having some sort of breakdown.
"Daniel doesnít have glasses like that."
"You did assign him to Treble Nine?"
Kinsey suddenly looked puzzled.
"Then who the hell is that that is scaring the hell out of my staff?"
OíNeill grinned. The pieces were falling into place.
"Thatís Brian Craig or "the evil Daniel" as we call him. He doesnít half scare the hell out of Daniel every time he sees him."
Kinsey scowled in disbelief. "Every timeÖ?"
OíNeill nodded. "Every time. We thought that heíd be getting used to it by now, but obviously it hasnít quite worked out like that. Of course, we think he does it deliberately just to get a reaction, but then, who knows. And he ainít telling."
Kinsey shook his head. The conversation was getting off course.
"I want you to tell SG-999 that I no longer require their services." said Kinsey, slapping OíNeillís desk.
"Oh-kaa-aay!" answered OíNeill after a brief pause. "But why donít you do it yourself?"
Before Kinsey could even draw breath to reply, OíNeill had the phone to his ear.
"Is Col. Procter on base?Ö Heís with who?Ö.. Very well, send them both to my office ASAP."
He put the phone down and looked ay Kinsey. Suddenly, the senator looked very uncomfortable. It was clear that he wanted OíNeill to do the dirty work and axe the team from their assignment. No chance, pal. Now you have to do it yourself and that was something that you werenít expecting thought OíNeill.
After a couple of minutes, Procter and Bru'tac came in.
"Whatís up, General? They said that it was urgent." asked Nick
"You know Senator Kinsey?" said OíNeill, doing introductions that werenít needed but if it made Kinsey uncomfortableÖ!
Nick nodded and tapped his eyebrow. "Morning, guvínor."
Kinsey remained tight lipped. A first, granted given that Kinsey was a politician.
"Well?" chipped in OíNeill to Kinsey as a way of giving him an unsubtle cue.
Kinsey huffed. "Colonel, I donít want you to protect me anymore."
"Cant do that, sir; Presidentís orders. Until he tells me otherwise."
"I canít get moving for your team." he snapped.
"Are you talking about the swimming pool? I had my team check that there wasnít any hidden devices around."
"You had an underwater unit in the pool itself!" he yelled.
Bru'tac stepped in. "We were checking that there wasnít any Goaíuld symbiotes. As you well know, symbiotes are aquatic by nature. We were making sure none had infiltrated your pool."
"Now thatís what I call thorough." said OíNeill, raising his arms in a "told-you so" manner.
"I wouldnít have minded, but they did it during a pool party. Can you imagine my guestís surprise when a frogman pops up next to someone on a li-lo to tell them that the pool is safe?" bellowed Kinsey. He had obviously made a list and a long one at that.
Wish I had CCTV footage of that one thought OíNeill.
"And then, there was the incident with the car." yelled Kinsey.
"You have no need to worry, senator. I have sufficiently recovered and hold you no blame whatsoever."
OíNeill looked at one to the other and back. Well, this was something that wasnít put on the report and he was waiting to hear the story.
"I was checking the senatorís car for hidden devices when he drove off." offered Bru'tac.
"What was wrong with that?" asked OíNeill, almost too afraid to ask for fear of getting an answer.
"I was underneath at the time."
"And you didnít think of letting go?"
"I hadnít as yet finished my inspection."
Nick stepped in. "He held on for 50 miles before the car stopped."
"And then what?" asked OíNeill. This story was like a train wreck; you know you shouldnít, but you canít help but to watch and listen.
"I got up and told the senator that the car was clear of anything suspicious."
"Ah, that would explain the bus ticket expenses." said OíNeill, pulling out an expenses sheet that Bru'tac had put in.
"ThisÖ this man is a maniac at the wheel of a car." seethed Kinsey, pointing an accusing finger at Nick. Nick on the other hand, blinked as if he were waiting foe the punch line of a joke that would never arrive.
"Senator, " he replied, " have you ever driven an ambulance for the St. Andrewís Ambulance Service?"
"Then believe me when I tell you to shut that big trap of yours and leave the driving to the experts. You wanted away from those reporters? I got you away from them."
"Yes, you did. Across the Nevada desert, about 100 miles away after we lost them."
"You wanted thorough, you got thorough. Live with it." Nick wasnít hiding the fact that this wasnít an assignment that he particularly wanted.
Kinsey looked as though he was ready to explode, although the maintenance crews would object to such a clean up; they didnít get hazard pay. In fact it was possible to check his pulse by just looking at his neck. Nick noted that Kinsey should relax more if he wanted a lower heart rate.
"Iím sorry Kinsey. But until the man in the House says otherwise," he patted the red phone with affection, "SG-999 stay on duty and thatís final."
Kinseyís face set in reign of resignation. It was no use; OíNeill wasnít going to budge and he had the Presidentís blessing to do so. But he leaned on the desk so that his face was a mere inches from the Generalís.
"OíNeill, youíre not going to stay in that chair for much longer. Enjoy it while it lasts because I assure you, it wonít be long."
OíNeill leaned forward so that he was eyeball to eyeball with the Senator.
"Iíll remember that. And Iíll remember everything else you said, Senator!"
He gave a great emphasis on "senator". Kinsey merely scowled and walked out and hopefully into a passing train, although it would have been a nice thought.
When he was out of sight and well out of earshot, OíNeillís face broke into a large grin.
"What is so funny, General?" enquired Bru'tac.
"Kinsey, thatís what. Yes, the President did give me orders to have you watch Kinsey in a bodyguard operation. But that was only because he suspected of Kinsey of being up to no good after the President stripped Kinsey of the Vice-Presidency."
"You think that heíll go for revenge?" said Nick, adding up the variables.
"Possibly. In any case, you did such a good job that Kinsey did stay out of trouble. None of his usual contacts came close while you were on the job. Youíre to stay on the job for another two weeks and then youíll be reassigned since the "threat" to Kinsey will have been diminished, thanks to your actions."
Nick grinned and shook his head. That President sure had a nasty sense of humour; much like his own.
"Donít worry general, weíll protect Kinsey until you tell us otherwise.", said Nick in an over the top bravado act.
"Dismissed." ordered OíNeill.
The two were almost out the door when Nick turned around.
"Do we have to do such a good job protecting Kinsey?"
"Out!!" roared OíNeill.
The two shot out the office like a bullet.
OíNeill slumped back in his chair.
He knew that SG-999 was a sometimes troublesome unit, but like Hammond before him, he started to warm to the wayward team; once you got to know their eccentricities, you could accept the team as a whole. He let Nickís words shift through his mind.
You know, maybe Nick had a point thereÖ."