Title: A Duty Greater Than Honor
Rating: K +
Genre: Angst/Drama/Family
Characters: George Hammond, Jack O'Neill, Vala Mal-Doran, OC Skaara Sha're O'Neill.
Summary: MULTIPLICITY-VERSE. General Hammond vows he will die defending the SGC, but "his people" have other ideas. Spoilers for all of SG-1.
NOTE: People wanted some detail on how Skaara Sha're's parents died in my story Multiplicity. Here is that, plus an explanation for why General Hammond is presumed alive in the main story.
George Hammond had always followed protocol, with the exception of the time he allowed what would become SG-1 to escape 30 years before they were SG-1. Barring that single, mind boggling incident, he'd never deviated from his duty to defend his command until his last breath.
This was no exception. George pulled a sidearm from his desk drawer and sprinted to the command center of Cheyenne Mountain. Ba'al was attacking the planet and, hopeless as his rational mind knew it was, he was going to fight, at least until the last of those they were able to collect the previous week were safe and hidden at their evacuation site.
He sped around a corner, nailing a Jaffa between the eyes as he surveyed the corridor leading up to the command center and the embarkation room. The familiar shock of silver hair made his racing heart calm a bit. Thank God for Jack O'Neill.
"Jack!," he shouted, foregoing rank. The world was ending, why call a friend by anything but their name?
Jack turned, eyes wide, and it was then that George noticed something was missing. Where was Skaara?
"Where's your daughter? She needs to get through that gate before the last group embarks!"
"Sam has her, they went ahead," his friend replied, almost completely out of breath. Around them shots went off from both sides," They'll go through with Teal'c and Daniel." He fired a shot of George's shoulder, and a body thudded to the floor.
"Teal'c?"
"Someone's gotta throw the spacemonkey through the gate."
George chuckled before another Jaffa caught his eye and both men dived into a side hall. Without words, they made their battle plan, and after taking a breath Jack spun back into the main corridor, George following to give him some cover.
They were almost down the hall when Jack looked behind them and stopped running. Before George could react to whatever he's seen, the younger man had spun back around in front of him, and both fell forward onto the concrete.
Despite being pinned by the weight of his best officer slumped against him, George managed to spot the two Jaffa and unload the rest of his clip on them. Their bodies crumbled to the ground with a sickening double thud.
Breathing hard, he abandoned the empty weapon and turned his attention to getting Jack's heavy frame on his side.
Jack was breathing shallowly, and when George looked over his shoulder to see where he'd been hit, he knew why. Three shots had entered his back, one going almost all the way through from shoulder blade to chest. It didn't take a doctor to see that Jack O'Neill was fatally wounded.
"Damnit, self sacrificing son of a...," he hissed, trying to catch the dying man's eyes as they fluttered open and closed in pain.
"Get...them..outta..here George...please," he rasped, eyes locking with his CO's as he made his last request. There was no need to guess who he meant. As much as George didn't want to leave, as much as he wanted to deny that he wasn't loosing his finest officer and dearest pain in the ass, he nodded.
"This was my job, son. Not yours," he said, closing his eyes. Damnit, damnit, damnit! He was supposed to die for "his people", this was his command and his honor as a soldier. Not Jack's. Not the husband and father with his beautiful young family.
"God, son..," he said, opening his eyes to send the younger soldier a withering glare. But he stopped, the muscles in his face relaxing into an expression of grief. Jack was staring up at the ceiling, far gone from the futile struggle still raging around them. He was dead.
A moment or two passed in which General George Hammond was entirely incapable of moving. Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill was dead.
Never once had the thought seriously crossed his mind. Jack didn't die, that was Daniel's market, and one from which the scientist regularly came back. George lowered his head as his hand closed the snarky brown eyes of the one person he never thought he'd lose.
All too soon the reality kicked back in and George found himself grabbing Jack's sidearm and continuing towards the Embarkation room. He'd shove Sam and Skaara through, then return and make his stand with whoever else chose it. Ba'al would have to take him down himself if he wanted Earth.
"General!"
He skidded to a half next to a side corridor, where Vala Mal Doran-Jackson stood clutching the sobbing form of Skaara O'Neill to her body. And behind her...
"Oh God, no...Sam," he whispered. But she was there, and she was lying unmoving on the floor. For a second the face of the little girl he remembered flash before his eyes.
"Get...them..outta..here George...please,"
"Sir, please!," Vala yelled, snapping him out of his rage," I don't have a weapon. I can't get her out of here on my own!" He nodded, twisting around a corridor to check for enemies before gesturing for Vala to follow him, Jack's words echoing through the halls.
They reached the embarkation room just as marines were ushering in the last group of people. He ushered Vala up the ramp, before she abruptly stopped, eyes wide.
"The discs. Here, sir, hold her!" And then she was gone before he could bark an order, and Skaara was crying noisily into his chest.
He waited. He had to see Skaara through the gate.
"Sir! Sir, you've got to take her yourself. Now!" one of the marines yelled over the cacophony of the fight. George looked at him, then at the little girl in his arms. Skaara raised her head, big blue eyes wide in terror no child should feel.
"Grandpa?"
"Sir!, the child needs to go now!"
George Hammond had always followed protocol with that one little exception in 1969, and only because he had told himself to do it. A Captain goes down with his ship, a General with his command. He looked back down at the trembling child in his arms. Sam's face stared back at him.
"Please, we go?"
"George...please,"
A General's honor lay in his command and how he stood by it. George Hammond's lay in honoring his friends. He saw a very clear choice between them. He clutched Skaara to his chest, took one last look at the SGC, and stepped through the Stargate.
Hitting the ground on the other side, Skaara still clutching tightly at his uniform jacket, George felt the first rays of an alien sun on his face. A moment later, he opened them to find Vala looking down at him with a sad, faraway look on her face.
"Yell at me later," she said, helping him disentangle Skaara from his uniform. He shook his head and stood, just as the gate closed forever on his planet. He'd wanted to yell at her for taking away his final test of honor. But as he looked down into the tear-stained face of Skaara O'Neill, who still held his uniform jacket in her little fists, any indignation he had dissapeared.
"Thank you, Mrs. Jackson, but I'll take care of her."