Dancing the Line

By

Denise

Sam stood under the needling spray of the shower, turning her face towards the almost too hot water. No matter how long she stood there, how hard she scrubbed, she still felt dirty. Holy Hannah, what had she done? When exactly had she lost the will to say no? To question orders.

OK, Technically it WAS the military, not a democracy but…well the SGC had always been different. They made their living doing things, going places, most of the world didn't even know existed. And she'd never shied away from questioning the colonel before.

An act he fortunately tolerated.

But when he'd ordered her to rig her reactor to blow up, all she'd done had been to offer a token protest, despite knowing he was violating General Hammond's direct order. When exactly had that thin gray line between right and wrong become so blurred she wasn't even sure if the two were still separate, much less which side she was on?

Damn him. How dare he? He knew how important the reactor was to her. He knew how long she'd worked to make it a reality. He had to know just how hard it was to convert alien tech to human standards. How proud she'd been of her accomplishment.

If it weren't for 'classified' she'd have a Nobel Prize hanging on her wall and more money than Bill Gates from the copyright.

The reactor was going to power Hedrezar's village for a year. It would mean no DHD no longer meant a team would be stranded. A long-term science mission no longer had to rely on firewood or batteries.

This was workable alien tech that just might stifle some of the Joint Chiefs' grumblings and could be used to justify some of the 7.4 billion the SGC cost the American taxpayers. It would finally be something General Hammond could throw into Senator Kinsey's calculating face.

On a larger scale, it just might eventually replace coal as a power source, thus reducing pollution, ozone depletion and global warming.

With all modesty, the Naquadah reactor was probably one of the most important inventions of the past decade.

And he'd ordered her to turn it into a bomb.

An explosive device that would have knocked a sizable chunk out of the Gad-Meer ship, probably causing it to crash, destroying…no murdering, not only a race, but samples of every living thing of a whole planet. Maybe two planets. Genocide…no…Planet-cide? There wasn't even a term for what he'd asked her to do. No term short of Armageddon.

Good God, her crime would have made Hitler look like a delinquent schoolboy…made Alar seem like a harmless cult leader.

And all she'd done had been to offer a few dissenting words. Even Teal'c had gone along with it.

Only Daniel dared to question. Only Daniel had the …brass, to ignore the colonel's orders and keep looking for a way out.

When did she stop questioning?

When did thinking for herself become the exception rather than the rule?

When did independence become co-dependence?

When did she turn into one of those mindless drones she and her classmates had hated in the academy? When did she become a yes man, hiding behind 'I was just following orders sir'?

That's what they said at Nuremberg.

Yes I knew I was murdering people in cold blood, but I was just following orders sir.

Yes Sir. I knew the bomb would kill the Gad-Meers.

Yes Sir. I knew that even if we stopped the ship, the planet's ecology was most likely damaged beyond repair.

Yes Sir. I knew you hadn't authorized a military strike.

Yes Sir. I knew the colonel's orders contradicted yours.

Yes Sir. I knew I was going to blow Daniel to atoms.

Yes Sir.

Yes Sir.

No Sir. I didn't join the SGC to murder a whole race.

No Sir. I didn't spend weeks…months making my reactor work to turn it into a weapon.

No Sir. If I wanted to design weapons I'd have transferred to Nellis a long time ago.

No Sir. I spent hours and hours closing all the loop holes so it COULDN'T be turned into a weapon because I knew the day would come when a reactor would be left behind, like a multi megaton land mine for some innocent alien to stumble over.

No Sir. You are not going to put me into that position again.

Setting her jaw, she turned off the shower, twisting the knobs so forcefully they squeaked in protest.

Grabbing her towel she stalked back to her locker. She had to hurry. She wouldn't have much time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam tensed as the door opened. She watched her CO walk into his darkened office. He sat at his desk and snapped on the desk lamp. 'Now or never Sam,' she told herself. She took a step forward, noting how the colonel tensed as his peripheral vision caught the movement. As much as he may kid about being old, there was nothing wrong with his reflexes.

Ignoring his curious look, she stopped in front of him and tossed the folder she was carrying onto the cluttered surface of his desk. When she'd first entered the darkened room, she'd contemplated just leaving it for him to find.

She dismissed that idea almost immediately. If she just left it laying on his desk he'd probably push it aside to read…oh probably the next time there was a blizzard or something and they were marooned on the base… and then only after the batteries died on his game boy.

"Carter?" he asked as he opened the folder, his brow wrinkling as he read the contents. "What's this?"

"Schematics for the Naquadah reactor, along with instructions for how to create the feed back loop," she explained, putting on her jacket. She'd purposefully changed into her civvies before she'd come. And just as purposefully wasn't going to hang around and debate the matter. They hadn't debated anything on the planet.

"So?" he asked, obviously not getting the point. OK colonel. I'll spell it out for you…in words of three syllables or less.

"Sir. With all due…respect, the next time you want to turn one of my inventions into a vehicle for mass murder…you can do it yourself," she stated calmly, then turned on her heel and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Point made, she walked down the deserted hall, fighting the urge not to make a mad dash for the elevator.

She knew she'd just danced on that thin gray line, just stepped over that boundary between CO and 2IC.

Only four years of comradeship gave her the courage to speak up, not as Major Carter, but as Sam Carter.

And hopefully he'd gotten the hint…because if he ever ordered her to destroy a whole planet again…Major Carter just might cease to exist.

fin