A/N - This is my first time EVER submitting fanfiction to this site. This is also the first time I've written fanfiction since 8th or 9th grade (I'm in my next-to-last year of college) so I apologize if my writing style seems sloppy or disorganized.
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: SG-1 or Quantum Leap
Over the years, Sam Beckett had become no stranger to leaping into confusing situations, but this was the epitome of strange… He had become accustomed to the sensation that leaping gave him but this time it was different. He felt as though he was flying through time and space as light as a feather. He had all but lost himself in the sensation before he felt himself come crashing face-first into a cold, metal ramp. He heard others charging down the ramp around him, their heavy boots clanking against the metal. Behind him, he heard a strange sound… he turned around to see a giant ring with a blue center that quickly disappeared, leaving the giant ring empty in the middle. Sam was completely and utterly lost and confused this time. Oh boy!
"Sir!" called a female voice from the bottom of the ramp.
"Wha…?" Sam turned back around to see a woman with short blonde hair, dressed in green military fatigues and tactical gear kneeling down next to him. She extended her hand to help him up.
"You okay?" She asked. Sam took her hand and clambered to his feet. The leap combined with whatever just happened left his legs feeling like gelatin.
"Y-yeah," Sam stammered, "I-I guess I just…tripped." He hung on to her arm to keep from toppling over and coming face to face with the ramp again. She guided him down the ramp towards two men, both dressed in the same fatigues and gear. One was a tall, muscular, dark-skinned man with a shiny bald head and what looked like a golden tattoo on his forehead. The other was a scrawny-looking man with medium-length light brown hair, big blue eyes, and glasses. He looked like he couldn't be more than 26 or 27.
"Welcome back, SG-1" a Southern voice bellowed over the intercom. Sam looked around to try and determine where the voice had come from. There was a large window that opened up into what Sam assumed to be some sort of control room. A round, middle-aged, bald man leaned into a microphone and continued to address the group.
"Go get yourselves cleaned up and we'll debrief in one hour." The two men and the blonde woman headed out through a large door and out into a hallway. Sam turned around to stare at the giant ring. It was made up of an inner ring and an outer ring. The outer ring was surrounded with 7 chevrons and the inner ring had strange symbols all the way around it. Whatever it was, Sam assumed that he and the rest of the group had somehow come through it.
"Colonel?" the blonde woman snapped Sam out of his trance.
"Yeah…um… I'm coming," Sam mumbled. He jogged to catch up with them and followed them down the hall. Well, now Sam knew that he was a Colonel in some branch of the military, but that was it. The complex he found himself in was cold and grey with cement walls and floors. Must be some sort of military base, Sam thought to himself.
"A-hunting we will go, eh Sam?" said a familiar voice behind him, indicating his forest camouflage fatigues. Sam started, not expecting his friend Al to appear behind him. "You know, that's not really a bad look for you, though the guns…not so much." He gestured to the pistol strapped to Sam's leg and the sub-machine gun clipped to his tactical vest.
Sam sighed and cut eye daggers at the hologram of his friend, "Not helping, Al." Sam responded in a hushed voice, "This is going to sound weird, but there's a big room and there's this ring that I think me and three others came through. Like… some sort of gate."
Al smacked his handset. "Well…" he started, "We don't have a lot of information. This is all top-secret Air Force stuff…the kind of stuff that you'd have to sell your soul to get your hands on. All we know is that the date is April 11th1997, your name is Jack O'Neill, you're an Air Force colonel, you're inside the Cheyenne Mountain Complex in Colorado, and you're 26 floors underground. No information about the complex or the group you're working with. " Sam followed the young man and the dark man into what appeared to be a locker room. He found a corner away from everyone where he could talk with Al without seeming like he was talking to himself.
"Any idea what I'm doing here?" Sam asked.
Al punched a few buttons on his handset. "We won't know anything until we find out what this place is. Right now we don't have a lot to go on."
"Well that's helpful," Sam mumbled as he tried to pry off his combat boots.
"Look," Al started, "Just get cleaned up, do whatever else you have to do to act natural, and I'll see if I can speed Ziggy up. Just play it cool and no funny business. Do that around here and they're liable to lock you up. Good luck, buddy." Before Sam could say anything else, the imaging chamber door opened and Al disappeared through it.
"Great…" Sam muttered, "Just great…Top secret military base, giant transport ring thing…" He wandered up and down the rows of lockers looking for one labeled 'Jack O'Neill'. He found it and pried it open. The inside of the locker door was plastered with pictures of him and a woman, assumed to be his wife, and a young boy; his son. Among those were pictures of him and the group he had just been with. This Jack O'Neill was obviously a family man and good friend outside of this base. Sam rummaged around the locker looking for a clean pair of socks and boxers. What was he supposed to change into? Next to his locker was a rack of assorted fatigues and black t-shirts. Each of the jackets had the same circular patches, one on each shoulder. One of them was black and grey with and made up of strange symbols, one of which looked like the chevrons on the giant ring. The patch said 'SG' along the top with the number '1' in the center. The other was black with the Earth in the center, surrounded by symbols similar to those he'd seen on the giant ring. Placed atop the image of the Earth was what looked like a variation of the letter 'A' with a small circle above it.
Maybe this is some sort of Air Force space program? Sam thought. He picked the plain green fatigues, gathered up his underclothes, towels and a black shirt and headed for the showers. He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he passed by a mirror and stopped in front of it to get a better look. Staring back at him was a gruff, hardened military man with a mess of brown hair atop his head, some wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes, and the beginnings of some stubble across his chin. The man staring back at him couldn't have been more than 40. Seeing the dirt and dried sweat caked around his face, Sam figured a shower would be a good idea. He picked the shower stall on the far side of the room and set his clothes down on the chair outside of the shower stall and hung his towels on the hook right next to the stall. He started the water and made sure it was piping hot before he stripped down and stepped under the stream, showering luxuriously.