Major General George Hammond glanced at his wristwatch and compared it to the clock on the wall. It was 1300 hours, in exactly four hours he was supposed to be at his house waiting for the two granddaughters to arrive for their monthly "Evening With Grandpaw". This week he was taking them to dinner and then on to a movie of their choice. He didn't know if it would be "The Return Of The Mummy" or "Doctor Doolittle 2". It depended on who did their house chores the best and who got the dib-rights this time. He already knew that dinner was at the new "Libby's Steak House". He chose the food, they chose the movie.
But before he could go into Colorado Springs he had to sign, review, and/or rewrite the annual Officer Evaluation Reports for the officers under his command. Hammond dreaded this exercise that the Combined Forces Command (Air Force, Army and Marine) required him to do. Everybody that worked for him was head and shoulders above the 'normal' military officer. Hell, if they weren't the pick of the litter already they wouldn't even be here in StarGate Command. But every report was expected to be hand massaged to properly reflect the capability, training and future career potential of each individual. They deserved the best from him just like he expected the best from them. And normally it wasn't a problem. However, comma, this week had been one for the books. Contact had been received from the Tollans, reference outcome of Daniel Jackson's brother-in-law Skarra. Jacob Carter and another Tok'ra had spent several days with them. Teal'c had to return to The Land Of Light to assist Master Bray'tac with a training situation amongst the rebellious Jaffa who had turned against their False God Goa'ulds. It was like working in an Air Passenger Terminal some days. He felt hard-pressed just to see who was in town much less who was on the manifest.
He opened the first manila folder. OER for Major Samantha Carter. He closed it and took a deep breath. If her's was here, his was right under it. Carter's was no problem. It would have been written by her immediate supervisor. It would be quick, complete, concise and glowing. His job would be a perfect breeze. Concur, retain, promote, reward. Signed. Col Jonathan O'Neill.
But then,Colonel Jonathan O'Neill's would be the next one. He'd written this one several weeks ago, a rough draft for a rough year. It hadn't been pretty for SG1. Injuries, deaths in the family, MIA status and internal strife. This team wasn't exactly a team from a by the book viewpoint at best. These four individuals were the most oddly mismatched unconventional group of characters he'd ever come to know and love. Jack O'Neill, the leader/soldier. Teal'c, the warrior/soldier. Samantha Carter, the scientist/genius. Daniel Jackson, the archeologist/genius. Wherever they went, stuff was sure to happen, in spades.
Yep, one hell of a year. Well, time to get down to business. He looked at Carter's report. Jack must have had a little linguistic assistance from Jackson this time. George doubted if O'Neill even knew what a 'veritable plethora' was much less ever used it in a sentence before the linguist came into his life. But he could tell the Colonel had written it by the colorful metaphors in use. The space mine they, she and Jackson, had managed to reprogram was mentioned, the extra time that she had taken to assist and mentor a cadet who was starting to stray from her Academy goals. Then of course, the almost catastrophic experience with the alien artificial intelligence where Major Carter was taken over and almost lost to the entity. Then her assistance with the Mothership Requisitioning instance from the Goa'uld, Chronus. Also noted was Carter's role during the Team's assistance to the Tok'ra's immigration to a new home world. And in the downfall and ultimate death of Apophis and the rescue of her teammate, Teal'c from his brain washing by the Goa'uld. All this and the proper allusions to her Military Bearing under enemy fire, her dress and appearance, and the oh, so important discipline to follow orders joined with the judgment to 'tell me to go to hell when I need it' comment. That was pure Jack O'Neill. Well, it was as it was and it was good. Concur, retain, promote, reward. Signed. G.H.
Now came the hard part. Colonel Jonathan O'Neill's OER. He had already put a bare bones outline together in preparation for the proper phrases and wording to flesh out the document. Let's see now.
DRESS AND APPEARANCE: Above average. Proper uniform fit and display of devices. Correct devices revealing a hell of a career doing impossible things for unappreciative and idiot 'superior' officers who had, more often than not, left him out flapping in the breeze. Until recently, that is. The last four years say. Has also gone a bit platinum around the edges due to wear and tear.
MILITARY BEARING: Above average. Tends to become sarcastic when tired, cranky when ignored and stubborn when disagreed with. Overly bonded with team of mismatched intellectuals whom he claimed were 'way smarter than he was'. Falsely so, by the way.
ACCEPTANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: Innate and complete. But it was only his fault when it went wrong, someone got hurt or something got broke. When 2IC was taken over by Alien Intelligences, Archeologist/linguist tried to jump off balcony and Foreign Exchange Officer temporarily confused by bad guy. When missions were successful, it was directly due to the above mentioned personnel's amazing insight and colossal intellect. Maybe so...but then again, maybe not. Maybe a touch of Jack-wisdom and a tad of O'Neill-experience had played a part in final successful resolution of sticky situation.
PERFORMANCE OF DUTY: Outstanding. Complete and devout. Would die for country, flag, honor, teammates and undeserving old Major Generals. Correction, think he's done it already.
NOTE: Team mates equally loyal to him (old General too).
SPECIAL SKILLS AND KNOWLEDGE: Incalculable. Over the Top. Special Operations Training. Weapons Master. Parachute Master. Sometime Pilot. Navigates when Necessary. Participation in Special Operations Missions. SECURITY RATING: Classified. If you knew, he'd have to kill you. At one time would have done it anyway for practice. Don't push your luck.
ATTITUDE: Incorrigible.
RECOMENDATION: Concur, retain, promote, reward. Signed. G.H.
Major General George Hammond whistled as he turned out the light in his office and he pulled the door closed after himself. Maybe it would be the Mummy film after all. Dr. Jackson had said it was a 'hoot'.
FIN