Perks and Recreation
By
Denise
Being a general had its perks, which was a fact Jack was quickly picking up on. He had his own private parking spot?that no one DARED to park in. Twenty-four/seven access to a staff car if he wasn't in the mood to drive. His own private bathroom, complete with massaging shower head. If he was hungry for pork chops, the cook made pork chops. Not to mention access to every single little corner of this place.
Of course, all those perks came at a price. And, in his case, it was paid in ink. Lots and lots of ink.
Jack leaned forward in his chair, sighing as he caught sight of his inbox. It never ended. It literally never ended. He signed his name a hundred times a day now, in duplicate and triplicate, and there was still a dozen forms waiting for him the next morning. Now he knew where George's hair went. The poor man had to have pulled it out in bunches.
"Yes, Walter," Jack said, not needing to look up to know that the sergeant was hovering in his doorway. That was another perk that came with his job, his own private keeper.
"Sir, you have a meeting in ten minutes with SG-6," he said. "And fifteen minutes after that is your weekly videoconference with the Joint Chiefs. At thirteen hundred, Doctor Brightman wants to discuss some new machinery they need and at fourteen hundred Sergeant Siler needs to go over some improvements he has in mind," he listed.
"And I get to go to the head when?" Jack muttered, tossing a requisition form into the outbox.
"Sir?"
"Nothing, Walter," Jack said, sighing. He knew Walter meant well and was just trying to help. And, truth be told, if it wasn't for the man, Jack's life would be a hell of a lot more hectic. "I'll be there in a few," Jack dismissed, grateful to see the man leave.
Jack never really knew what all was involved in running a base. Oh, he suspected. The paperwork he'd had to wade through as a colonel had given him a good idea, but he never had a complete idea of all the trivial crap George put up with.
For crying out loud, couldn't these people make any decisions on their own? Why the hell did he have to weigh in on what kind of potatoes they ate or what kind of bandages were used in the infirmary?
There seemed to be no shortage of crises needing his attention. He spent an hour yesterday counseling Captain Miller on his options involving his potential relationship with Captain Kelso who was a member of another SG team. He had to give his blessing on an unofficial bridal shower for Lieutenant Mabrey and was already hearing vague rumors of a couple of baby showers coming up in the next month.
He and Siler had spent two hours earlier in the week going over security access passes and the potential for a new guard post on the surface and which personnel would be good candidates to man said guard post.
And speaking of the surface, they were going to be repaving the road in a month and he also needed to get together with someone about planning a detour and working a way to keep access to the mountain while still getting the new asphalt down.
Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed, one hand idly scratching his head. A thousand nitty gritty details, every single one of them totally insignificant alone, but together, they were enough to drive a man mad.
SG-1 was off world and Jack missed his team. It wasn't like they could help him in running the base; it really wasn't their place. Yes, Daniel did serve as a liaison with the civilians and Carter did the same with the other scientists. Other than being the only three-person team on the base, Carter, Daniel or Teal'c didn't really have a special purpose, beyond their own unique talents. But they did do one vital thing when they were here-they were here.
Jack could go down and hide in Carter's lab, or Daniel's. Jack could take half an hour and his frustrations out on Teal'c down in the gym. His team may not technically be seen as part of the support staff of this base, but they sure as hell were to Jack. They were the foundation on which his sanity rested.
He hated it when they were off world, not just because he was worried about them, but also because he missed them when they were gone. He missed Carter's quiet knocks on his door and Daniel's barging in at the most inconvenient time. He especially missed Teal'c's quiet intimidation, which happened to be the quickest way to end a boring briefing Jack had ever discovered.
Catching sight of the members of SG-6 gathering, Jack pawed through the folders on his desk, finally coming up with the one that pertained to this specific briefing. He got to his feet and walked into the briefing room, repressing a grin as they all got to their feet. Yeah, ok, so he did enjoy this perk, especially after twenty years of jumping to his own feet every time a superior officer entered the room. It was nice to be the jumpee instead of the jumper. "Sit," he ordered, sliding into the chair at the head of the table. "So, whatcha got?"
"Geological survey, sir," Reynolds said.
"Naqahdah?"
"Yes, sir," Caplan, the team's geologist answered. "At least, that's what the MALP indicates."
Jack nodded. "This is a two day mission, right?" he asked, checking his notes.
"Less if we can pull it off, sir," Reynolds said.
"The sample site is ten miles from the gate," Caplan protested.
"So you'll have to walk fast," Reynolds retorted.
"We have no idea what the terrain is, sir. Ten miles might be a bit optimistic."
"Stop," Jack interrupted the bickering. "You have two days. You accomplish the mission objectives before then, you come back. It takes you longer, you call me so I know what's going on. End of story," he declared. Jack got to his feet, pointedly staring at the two quibbling team members until they did the same. "Dismissed," he said.
Jack retreated into his office and plopped down in the chair, tossing the folder into his 'off world' pile. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that piles were the best way to keep track of things and he had a lot of them.
Stuff to be signed, stuff to be read. Missions upcoming, missions in progress, missions completed. It drove Walter nuts, which was half the fun of Jack's whole system. Walter was an incredibly organized little neat freak, and piles were not part of his organizational outlook.
A creaking noise filtered down the hall and Jack groaned, knowing what was to come. A bulky shape wheeled itself into his office and Jack simply glared at Walter as he bustled about, setting up the videoconference equipment. "I don't suppose we can have technical difficulties?" he asked rhetorically.
"I'm afraid not, sir," Walter said, his voice slightly muffled as he bent over to plug the unit into the LAN jack. He straightened up and handed Jack a print out. "Here's the agenda, sir."
Jack took it and scanned the items, a knot of dread settling into his stomach. "Botanical cleanup cost?" he asked, questioning one of the items.
"Doctor Lee's plant, sir."
"Ah. And what's this about Prometheus?"
"They want to discuss the security measures on the ship," Walter said. Jack raised his eyebrows. "Apparently they're questioning how a single person managed to totally evacuate the ship armed only with a zat."
"Yeah," Jack muttered, wondering that himself?although he really wasn't in the mood to explain it to a dozen suits. Besides, it was Hammond's command, he could explain it. "What other gems are on the menu for today?" Jack asked, tossing the sheet of paper onto his desk.
"Sir?"
"Oh please, do not look innocent, Walter," Jack chastised, pushing himself up from his chair and making his way to his third perk?his private coffee machine. "I know you read this. Boil it down for me."
Walter sighed, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see a troop of SF's ready to arrest him for snooping. "They're also concerned about the replicator duplicate of Colonel Carter, sir. What she knows and how dangerous she can be. And there's also concern about the members of the Trust who got away and just how much damage they can do with the Al'kesh they stole," he relayed, his voice low and conspiratorial.
"Anything else?" Jack asked, perching on the corner of his desk as Walter worked the controls, turning on the TV and the conferencing camera.
"I think that's about all, sir. Although, I think they're also curious about next year's budget."
"Lovely," Jack groaned as the machine fired up, going through the motions to connect with a similar set in a conference room in Washington, D.C. The connection was made and Jack recognized the all too familiar room where the Joint Chiefs met.
'This is going to be such a great time,' he thought, glad to see that the room was empty. This was another aspect of George's job that Jack had underestimated. Every single time one of his personnel messed up, screwed up or did anything noteworthy, Jack had to report on that noteworthiness to the Joint Chiefs. And he had to report in agonizing and boring detail.
He really needed to buy George lunch, nah, make that dinner, some day. Jack wondered just how many lengthy phone calls he and his team's actions had been responsible for. Maybe that was why George wanted him to have this job?payback.
Resigning himself to a sucky hour, Jack reluctantly made his way over to his chair, resisting the urge to prop his feet up on his desk. On cue, the door to the other room opened and Jack watched the Joint Chiefs file in, chatting amongst themselves. They were ignoring him, which was par for the course. They always did that. He didn't know if it was because they simply had nothing to say or if it was a way to put him in his place.
"Jack, good morning." He heard Hammond say. Jack looked up, giving the man a wave as he watched the blocky picture on the TV.
"Good morning, sir," Jack answered, resisting the urge to yell, still reconciling that he was watching a room a thousand miles away.
"How's Colorado, Jack," the man said, taking his seat.
"Still here," Jack replied. "How's the east coast?"
"Pretty much the same," Hammond replied, their conversation dwindling as the rest of the group took their seats, signaling the beginning of the meeting.
Jack leaned back in his chair, letting the conversation wash over him. He'd been attending these meetings on a weekly basis for most of the past five months and still really didn't feel like he was part of the group.
For the most part, he was just here to clarify things. They received weekly reports and already knew as much as he wanted them to. Not that he left out a lot; just a few details here and there, things that would bring up more questions than they were worth. Ignorance really was bliss and if omitting a few unimportant details kept him and his staff from getting reamed, Jack was more than willing to do a little creative editing.
His mind drifted, wondering what his team was up to right now.
In one way, he'd been glad when Carter had approached him about going to rescue Maybourne. It was the first time he'd seen her out of her lab in weeks. She'd been so obsessed with fixing the anti-replicator weapon that Jack had even ordered her to go home a couple of times.
He glanced at his watch. Four hours. They were four hours into their mission and since they hadn't come running home, he figured that they either hadn't found Harry or were convincing the little weasel to come back.
That is if the Tok'ra were right and Ares hadn't come yet and the planet was still safe. If the Tok'ra were wrong and the Goa'uld had already come then they could be captured right now, or trying to evade capture or-
"General?" Jack looked up, realizing that he'd totally zoned out on the meeting.
"Sorry. What were you saying?"
"We were wondering if Colonel Carter had any more luck fixing the replicator weapon?" one of them asked.
"Not yet," Jack replied, feeling his hackles rise. Yep, he knew this was going to be fun.
"Any estimate as to when that will happen?" another one asked. Jack knew that he should know their names, but he really didn't care.
"It happens when it happens," Jack said. "Look," he leaned forward. Even with the blocky nature of the picture he could still see the frowns on their faces. "Carter's working on it. Has been pretty much night and day for the past month. Whenever she finds a solution, you'll be the first to know." Jack paused. "Well, maybe second."
Jack saw Hammond frown at him, slowly raising one finger in warning. Yeah, so mouthing off at them wasn't the best thing that he could do, but Jack was also sick and tired of people who knew nothing about the work they did here criticizing him and his staff. He was tired of penny pinchers giving him grief about them using too many bullets or wasting too many MALPs or daring to go through more than their allotment of bandages.
He'd love nothing more than to grab their Armani clad asses and chuck them through the gate and let them take on a system lord bare handed. "General O'Neill-"
"General, Carter knows what she did and she knows she needs to fix it. Trust me, she's been working on it. If you check out the overtime report you'll see just how much she's been working," Jack repeated.
"General O'Neill, we would not be in this situation if Colonel Carter had just-"
"Just what?" Jack interrupted. "You guys all agreed that we needed intelligence from the replicators. You approved her talking to the duplicate. Take it from someone who's worked with her for the better part of a decade. Carter's smart?and the best person to outsmart her was herself. A rather cold-blooded and sadistic version of herself to boot."
The klaxons began to blare and Jack reflexively looked up, forcing himself to smother a smile. "General?" George asked.
"I'll be right back," Jack said, getting to his feet. He gratefully left the office and hurried downstairs, trying to remember whether this was a scheduled activation or not. In fact, he really didn't care, hell Ba'al could come visit if it'd get him out of this meeting.
"Walter?" Jack asked.
"Unscheduled activation, sir," he answered, not even looking up. "Radio transmission from Colonel Carter."
"Put it on speakers," Jack ordered. He waited until Walter nodded. "Carter, what's up?"
"We found Maybourne, sir," she said.
Jack frowned, trying to interpret her voice. "I'm sensing a 'but' here."
"Evidentially, sir, he's done rather well for himself. He's known on this planet as King Archon."
"King?"
"Yeah. He found some sort of pillar with Ancient dialect carved on it. From what Daniel has translated so far, it's a record of the major events on this planet."
"How does that make him a king?"
"Well, sir, remember the device we found, the one that made the time loop?"
"Vividly," Jack said, cringing at the memory of living the same three months over and over and over.
"It looks like not all the Ancients failed at playing with time."
"How's that?"
"The theory is that an Ancient on this planet used a time device to go forward to the future, document the past, then come back to the past and write down what he witnessed," she said.
Jack frowned, looking at Walter who simply shook his head and shrugged. "Say again, Carter," Jack requested.
"He read the ending of the book, then went back in time to write down how it ends before it was even written," she said. Jack could hear the grin in her voice. "Basically sir, he used this time ship to go to the future and document the past, then write his observations down, making a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy."
"And how does this affect us?" Jack asked.
"Translating these prophecies is how Maybourne became king. But more importantly, he's also translated a prophecy that says the Goa'uld are coming and that 'visitors from the stars' are going to defeat them."
"Lemme guess, you're the visitors," Jack said.
"Got it in one, sir," she said.
"Carter, have Teal'c throw Maybourne over his shoulders and evac that planet," Jack ordered. "You could have a Goa'uld on your front porch any time now."
"We know that, sir. But we found something else."
"What?"
"We found the time ship."
"Time ship?" Jack looked over at Walter, enjoying the man's shocked expression.
"Yes, sir."
"So throw Maybourne in the time ship and bring it home," Jack said, feeling like he was running a kindergarten.
"We'd love to, sir. But there's a slight complication."
"Carter, just cut to the chase," Jack requested.
"It's an Ancient ship, sir. It needs an Ancient to fly it. And since everyone with the Ancient gene that we could find is off at Atlantis?"
She trailed off and Jack smiled, finally seeing where she was going. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"
"General, unless you know someone else who has the Ancient gene, we need you to come here and help us retrieve the ship. As near as I can determine, it's been engineered to fit through the stargate, so all we need to do is get it from where it is and to the gate here."
"So, you're saying no one else can do this?" Jack asked, glaring at the knowing look on Walter's face.
"No, sir. Not unless you know someone else at the SGC with the Ancient gene," she repeated, her tone matching Walter's face.
"Gimme an hour," Jack said. "I gotta round up someone to watch the store."
"Understood, sir," she replied. "Carter out."
Jack nodded and Walter shut down the gate. "Who's on the list to be officer of the day?" Jack asked, rubbing his hands together. Off world huh? They needed him off world. And if George could run off with the Prometheus, he could sure as hell take a jaunt to a nice safe planet.
"Colonel Raab," Walter said. "I'll call him and let him know that you're leaving the base."
"You do that. Tell him to meet me in my office in forty-five and I'll brief him on what's going on," Jack said, already planning out what he needed to pack. There was a potential Goa'uld invasion, so he'd need to be armed. Not to mention this time ship.
What if he couldn't fly it? His mastery of his Ancient voodoo was sketchy at best. Yeah, and they couldn't risk letting the snakes get their hands on it. So he'd need some C4, just in case.
Jack turned to leave the room. "Sir?" He turned back.
"Walter?"
"Did you ever finish your call?"
Jack stared at him. "Crap," he muttered, glancing at the ceiling. "Do you think they're still on?"
Walter nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Of course they are," Jack muttered, hurriedly climbing the stairs. He made his way to his office, pausing in the doorway to verify that the connection was still on. Sighing, Jack sat down in his chair, knowing that it would have been massively too convenient for them to just finish up without him.
"Jack, is anything wrong?" Hammond asked, breaking up the conversation around the conference room table.
"Nothing earth-shattering," Jack said. "I just need to go."
"Go?"
"Gotta run a little errand, I'll catch up with you guys next week." Jack picked up the remote off his desk and disconnected the call, unable to deny just how enjoyable that simple act was.
Jack turned off the TV and pulled open his desk drawer, retrieving his sidearm. He didn't quite know how she'd done it, but Carter had finagled a way for him to go off world. An honest to god, bona fide undeniable reason for him to take a little recreational trip through the gate. He'd definitely have to order that girl some Jell-O.
Mindful that time was a wastin', Jack shoved his sidearm into the small of his back and left the room. He needed to hurry if he was going to gear up and meet Raab back here in time to brief the man. Yep, this was definitely the best perk of his job?the fact that no one on the base could tell him no.
Fin