I stand in the Command section on the observation deck looking down at the Gate Room. SG-1 is fixing to leave to go to P4C21. It's a simple recon mission, a quick look-see at a new planet that the Cold Dialing program has opened up. The UAV has shown some signs of civilization, a roadbed and some ruins, but no life forms as yet.
The four people have all arrived and are now awaiting the Stargate's Activation. Their C.O. Colonel O'Neill is fondling his P-90 and verbally harassing his team. Major Carter is checking the calibration on her gadgets and has a smile on her face, probably laughing at whatever O'Neill is saying. Doctor Jackson is finishing adjusting his pack and utility belt and giving back to his CO as good as he's getting. Teal'c is standing there, stolidly waiting for his Taur'i teammates to finish their preparations and witty repartee before they take off to their next adventure.
As the chevrons dial out the team gathers together in their normal order of march. Teal'c will take point, Carter will follow his lead, Jackson will meander up the gate ramp and O'Neill will trail behind in drag position. Oh, he's NOT dragging as much as he's insuring everyone gets where they're going. As the final chevron engages and the wormhole forms with its signature kawoosh, my mind starts to wander into a philosophical observation mode.
Jack O'Neill is as close to a friend as I have here in this command. He is a consummate professional, always willing to shoulder all of his responsibilities and sometimes more. But he is not an easy man to know or even like. His history is checkered with black and white squares. He'll never see his first star and he knows it. The only reason he's still here is his sense of duty and his conscientiousness. Jack figures that he started this and he damn well wants to finish it. He won't, but he can't quit either. Jack will watch the gate, he'll patrol the fields, and he'll guard the house and he'll escort the family in their travels. He's like the German Sheppard Rin Tin Tin; handsome, loyal, and faithful to a fault. You can also add protective, defensive and liable to bite if he has good reason.
Teal'c, on the other hand, is loyal to his team, his commander and, I'm honored to say, me. He's not Earthborn, so he doesn't have the same attachment to our little planet. Oh, don't get me wrong, he'll go the distance for us and he's deadly in a fight. He's already proven that. Some people would say he's a traitor to his own kind, but my opinion is that proven evil does not deserve any allegiance. When he turned against Apophis he turned against murder, kidnap, rape and megalomania. Teal'c just proved himself a better man than his so-called master. He may not be attached to a particular place, but like the old drover dog, the Rottweiler, he's devoted to his herd, committed to his chosen family and steadfast in getting the job done.
Major Carter fits in here too, except she's real smart. Way smarter than just about anyone else here in Cheyenne Mountain. Her curiosity and her abilities make her an extremely valuable asset to this command. She can find ways and make things do for her what no one else can. Give her a job that's challenge or a mystery and just stand back and watch her dust. She'll work it and worry it and finagle with it until it does just what she wants just like a sheepdog. I'd call her my Collie. She's basically friendly, cute and loveable but don't even think of threatening her, her team or her authority. She'll bite just as hard and fast as the rest of them.
Then there's Doctor Daniel Jackson. The boy is right up there with Carter in the smarts department but he goes at it from a whole different angle. Stubborn to a fault, single-minded to the point of exasperating, and totally committed to an idea or purpose. He looks cute and harmless too, but running up against him is like sticking your hand into a wasp nest, more than likely you'll pull back a stub. If you look up the word tenacious in the dictionary, you'll see his picture right next to it. Don't sic him on a rat unless you want a carcass, cause you can't pull him off the scent once he gets a trail. That young man is my varmint dog, my Terrier if you will, smart, single-minded, and down right deadly when his prey is cornered. Just ask a Gould or two. But sometimes, we do have to pull him up out of that deep hole he just dug for himself.
And me? Me? My hunting days are over. I'm just that old hound dog, sniffing, around, finding things out, and telling my boss what's going on. I keep an eye on the yard and the house whilst the young ones run the field and get the job done. Oh, I can still bay the pack up and I have a bite or two left in me if it needs be. But most of the time I just stand here and watch the young dogs do their jobs. If nothing else, it's certainly not boring.