Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. I'm just playing in the Stargate sandbox.
Established Ships: Jack/Sam, Daniel/Janet, Daniel/Vala, Rodney/Jennifer
Timeline: Begins three months after "Enemy at the Gates"
Spoilers: All of SG-1 and SGA
THE MEMORY OF KITES
CHAPTER ONE
IMPRESSION, SUNRISE
Kites.
Cassandra Fraiser dreamed of running through a meadow of knee high grass with a heavy string in hand and a kite trailing behind her. Every four steps she lurched upward, trying to make the kite soar like all the others in the cloudless cerulean sky. Her wood-and-paper creation remained stubbornly earthbound until the blonde woman intervened. She ran forward with long strides, and the pink-and-teal hummingbird-shaped kite took flight. The woman released string from the spool until the bird joined the cranes, doves, sparrows, and diamonds already flying high.
The woman handed over the spool of string to Cassandra, and in her dream, she caught a vision of herself as a young girl. She wore a dress of some pink material and an overcoat of shadowy blue against the morning chill. An expression of purest joy came across her open face when the kite caught the air current and flew. The strong wind whipped her long blonde hair around her head and covered her brown eyes so that the kite blinked in and out of her vision, but the blonde woman's hands gently pushed away the hair and tucked it behind her ears.
Sounds drifted across the meadow. The wind whistled in the hollow reedy grass, and the churning windmills creaked as they worked. Laughter and encouragement carried on the wind so that one child's cry of "Higher!" became the desire of everyone with a kite. Gradually, the bright paper toys rose until they seemed level with the sun, and the children put cricks into their necks trying to keep their eyes on the kites. Then their parents had to lend their strength to control the string.
As the sun crested to noon, the children slowly began to lose interest and reel in their kites. One by one, they departed the meadow for some other game. But not Cassandra. She remained in the meadow, a peaceful smile on her face even as her legs itched from the chaffing reeds and the sun's heat turned her skin sticky against her clothes. She closed her eyes and swayed slightly to the song of the wind. The sunlight painted the inside of her eyelids warm peach, and the soaring kite tugged her arms and thoughts skyward.
o o o
"Cassie."
Samantha Carter regretfully laid one hand on Cassandra's shoulder and shook slightly. Hands working in a furious attempt to bat away the nuisance, the young woman slept on. Sam tried again, a little more insistent in her shaking now.
"It's time to get up, Cass. You've got a big day ahead of you and a lot of people who will be upset if you miss it."
With a muffled groan, Cassandra woke from her recurring dream. Though she rolled over onto her back so Sam would stop jostling her, she kept her eyes closed. The light of sunrise streaming in through the window warmed her skin, and she smiled widely at the familiarity of the peach blaze behind her eyes. She imagined the hummingbird kite and not for the first time wondered how and why her mind had created it. Car horns and the low hum of a metropolitan city ruined the illusion of a peaceful extension of her dream.
Cassandra opened her eyes and peered up at her godmother seated on the edge of the bed. Sam had dressed for the day in a sophisticated gray and white pattern dress that was all wrong for the Chicago weather. Doubtless she had on those monster high heels of hers too, and that made Cassandra hopeful they would take a cab, something she couldn't afford every day. Sam's blonde hair had been pulled back when she arrived yesterday, but it hung down now and had grown even longer than the last time they had seen each other. She suspected it was getting below Air Force regulation length if it hadn't already.
"Up you get. Big day," Sam repeated, and she nudged Cassandra toward the edge of the bed. Threatened with toppling onto the floor, she relented and swung her legs over the side. Grumbling the whole way, she trudged into the tiny box-like bathroom barely three-and-a-half strides from the end of her bed. "I'll get breakfast going."
Standing under the hot pressure of the shower and breathing in the steam revived Cassandra's senses. She thought less of the recurring dream she'd had since she was thirteen and more about the real world. Her last ever graduation day had finally arrived. After three years of demanding course work and sleepless nights writing position papers, today she graduated from law school. Of course, the most harrowing experience – the bar exam – was yet to come, but she tried not to think about that. Instead, she fixed her mind on walking across the stage today and receiving her degree.
Cassandra Fraiser, Juris Doctor.
She smiled at herself Cheshire cat-like in the foggy bathroom mirror as she towel-dried her chin-length blonde hair and clumsily applied the cosmetics on the rim of the sink. She assumed Sam had put it all there since she definitely had never purchased Berry Pink lipstick or the twisted lump of metal she saw women use on their eyelashes in the movies.
When she emerged from the bathroom, more of Sam's handiwork appeared in the form of a well made bed and a garment bag. Cassandra unzipped it hesitantly, her mind working on excuses not to wear the dress. Sam had not been unduly cruel. The garment bag contained, not a dress as she'd feared, but a professional gray pant suit. A pair of heeled dress boots, not exactly her style but not objectionable either, sat next to the bed.
"Breakfast is ready!" Sam called from the next room.
Cassandra dressed hurriedly, fumbled the buttons on the white dress shirt twice, and pulled on the boots. A few tentative, wobbling steps got her in front of the full length mirror. "Not too shabby," she said to her reflection. The other women would look more put together, but they came from business and social science backgrounds where that mattered. Cassandra came from art school; paint splattered jeans and indie band t-shirts had been their fashion preferences.
"See. I knew you'd clean up nicely," Sam said when Cassandra came out of her bedroom. If she noticed her goddaughter had put on the least amount of makeup possible and discarded the dusty pink neck scarf in the garment bag, she said nothing.
"You sound like you took bets." She took one of the two stools at the kitchen counter and started on the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.
"Maybe I did." Sam smiled mischievously. "No one has seen you in nice clothes in years, and more than a few people wondered if you would try to get your diploma in that bad donkey t-shirt you love so much."
Cassandra choked into her orange juice. Her favorite shirt had a picture of a donkey on it with the word 'bad' above. She affectionately called it 'the badass t-shirt.' "Right. Bad donkey. Jack is rubbing off on you. What am I saying? He rubbed off on you a long time ago."
Sam beamed her most innocent smile, and Cassandra wondered not for the first time how this woman could command a frontline battlecruiser that saw space combat against the Lucian Alliance at least once a week with a face like hers. The gentle appearance was deceiving, however. Under that classic beauty, Sam was tough as nails, a full bird Colonel and born leader.
"Is anyone else coming? Or are they off world?" Cassandra said 'off world' with a hesitant note in her voice, as if to tell Sam it was fine to answer yes or no, but she wanted no further details.
Sam understood the implied limit. "Daniel and Teal'c should be here any minute, and Jack will meet us at the university. He called this morning to say he has to deal with a situation in Washington, but he wouldn't miss this for the world … or worlds, as the case may be."
While Cassandra went to brush her teeth (and Sam insisted she apply a fresh coat of lipstick), Daniel Jackson and Teal'c arrived. She heard Sam greet them at the door and a round of enthusiastic hugging was ongoing when she came out of the bedroom again.
"I like what you've done with the place," Daniel said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and rocking on his heels. He surveyed the art prints and posters plastered over the 70's era wood-paneled walls and the IKEA furniture with light blue eyes behind square-framed glasses. "It's art student chic."
"Emphasis on the student." Cassandra embraced Daniel and tried to remember all the times they'd shared hugs before. Back when her mom had still been alive, when she thought Daniel would be her dad one day. They separated too soon for the memories to come to life, and she had only the impression he was more muscular now, and she had gained a few inches.
"This is a great day for you, Cassandra, and I thank you for inviting me to share it with you," Teal'c said. He bowed his head in formal respect with his hands clasped behind his back, but then a smile broke, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. It felt like hugging a brick wall for all his muscles and towering height.
"You probably don't need that in Chicago." She motioned to the black fedora that matched his suit. Teal'c removed it, revealing the gold tattoo on his forehead that marked him as a Jaffa, a First Prime. It stood out so vividly against his black skin it was doubly cruel. Chicagoans saw crazier things than gold serpent tattoos, though, just riding the Metra.
"So Daniel Jackson and O'Neill have told me many times, but I do not wish to draw attention on this day. I will wear the hat when we depart." Jack O'Neill, Cassandra's godfather and Lieutenant General in charge of Homeworld Security, had spent his childhood in Chicago. Like her, Daniel had attended the University of Chicago, but his school was archaeology while hers was law.
The tiny apartment felt overcrowded with four people crammed into the hero kitchen and 6' x 6' living room. By mutual agreement, they left the apartment early and took the five flights of stairs down to the sidewalk where Teal'c hailed a cab, something he said he had always wanted to do. Twenty minutes of enduring the cabbie's bat-out-of-hell routine and a small fortune later, they exited the cab at the University of Chicago.
Cassandra left them to find seats on the multitude of white folding chairs set up on the green lawn while she went to go robe up with her classmates. A strong wind off Lake Michigan had kicked up, and Cassandra saw several women struggling with their skirts. She tried not to send them sardonic looks as she passed.
"That's what you get for wearing skirts, right?"
Startled by the sudden voice in her ear, Cassandra jumped and spun around, clutching her chest. A woman a few years younger than herself with straight dark hair pulled into a bun and warm brown eyes smiled impishly at her. She wore a skirt herself, an Air Force uniform with a name badge reading 'Hammond' pinned to it. Cassandra's face cleared, and she let out a whoop of joy.
"Tessa!"
The two women embraced for so long they caused a jam in the hallway. Several of Cassandra's peers pushed by with their robes flying from hangers behind them. They did a double take seeing Tessa's uniform, and a couple offered apologies for their outbursts. Cassandra ignored them all.
"I can't believe you're here! I didn't think you'd have shore leave so soon after being assigned."
Tessa and Cassandra had been friends since they were eleven and thirteen, respectively. General George Hammond, Tessa's grandfather, had decided Cassandra needed a friend to help her adjust to her new life. His solution to have a barbeque and order Captain Doctor Janet Fraiser, then only Cassandra's guardian, to attend had resulted in a fast friendship between the two girls.
"I only have a few hours, but long enough to see you graduate," Tessa explained. "When I told Colonel Caldwell that General O'Neill's goddaughter was graduating law school today, and I was her best friend, he decided it would be the perfect time to send an officer to talk to the General about speeding up the upgrades on Daedalus. I figure I'll wait until after the ceremony to shanghai General O'Neill."
Tessa helped Cassandra into her robe and hood. Meanwhile, they chatted about the friends Cassandra had left in Colorado Springs. Tessa's sister Kayla would be coming home from Denver for the summer soon, but of course Tessa wouldn't see her much now that she had graduated from the Air Force Academy and served on the battlecruiser Daedalus. Dominic, Cassandra's first boyfriend, had gotten married in March. Other friends' names came up in conversation too. Lisa Carter, Sam's niece, had won a national junior science award, and her nephew David had been accepted at Stanford to study physics.
"So what's next for you, Cassie?"
Cassandra fiddled with her hood absently stalling for time. "Studying for the bar exam, like everyone else. Then, I don't know … interviews at law firms with Intellectual Property divisions. That's what lawyers do with their lives."
A disembodied male voice announced that the students were to begin forming their lines, and Tessa left to go find Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c. After fifteen minutes of jostling, already sweating under their black robes, the graduating class of 2009 filed down the aisle to take their seats for the last time as students.
o o o
After the official ceremony, pockets of family and friends spread out over the campus grounds to congratulate the graduates and snap endless pictures. Cassandra was no different than the rest, although she did not feel the same.
Although the people sharing this day with her felt like family, they were not. Her family had died: her birth parents when the Goa'uld Nirrti released a biological plague, and her adoptive mother in a firefight off world. She was different in more profound ways as well. Cassandra had been intended as a superhuman host, a hok'taur, for Nirrti. The aftermath of generations of genetic manipulations had left naquadah in her blood and her very DNA different from Earth humans.
Looking around at the smiling, proud faces of these people who knew nothing of the Goa'uld and the thousands of worlds full of humans they had enslaved filled her with a sense of dizzy surrealism. How fortunate for them to have been born on this planet of all the rocks orbiting all the stars in the galaxy. How fortunate for them to never live through Goa'uld atrocities and survive only to relive them again as nightmares.
"Cassie … Cassie … Cass?"
Jack O'Neill's voice drew Cassandra back to the present. He wore his uniform with so many decorations on his chest it looked like a trophy case and stood with his arms spread wide. Jack looked older than the last time they'd seen each other, his hair more silver and more lines on his face, but he wore an expression of boyish delight.
"I am so proud of you, kid."
He hugged her tightly and dropped a light kiss on the top of her head like he used to do when she was younger. All the haunted memories of a moment ago dissipated with that casual display of fatherly affection. Her eyes had gone misty all of a sudden, and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.
Jack, Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c stood in a semi-circle around Cassandra. This was the team that had found her alone among the dead bodies on Hanka and brought her back to Earth. From that day, they had been a surrogate family, saving her every day in big and small ways alike.
"The original SG-1," she said. "I want a picture of this."
The former teammates glanced sidelong at each other, only now recognizing their reunion. Jack had gone off to run Homeworld Command, and Sam commanded the George Hammond now. Teal'c spent as much time with the Jaffa nation as he did on Earth. To have them all together like this, just the four of them, had become rare.
Only after nearly half of Cassandra's camera memory card had been filled with pictures of various combinations, and then done all over again when Tessa arrived, did the junior Air Force officer dare to approach Jack.
"General O'Neill, sir."
"Lieutenant Hammond," Jack replied, all fake formality. He grinned. "I haven't gotten to say that since … 1969, isn't that right?"
"Yes, sir," Sam answered, and for some reason, stole a sidelong glance at Cassandra.
"Colonel Caldwell wanted me to have a word with you, sir."
Jack sighed deeply, but nodded. "You'd better come too, Carter. If Caldwell wants something for Daedalus, it's only fair you get to ask for something too."
Jack, Sam, and Tessa wandered off to talk business in a more secluded section of the campus grounds. Daniel and Teal'c stayed with Cassandra until their watches announced the two o'clock hour. They were needed back at Stargate Command, as SG-1 was scheduled for a mission in a few hours.
"We will have to go to Atlantis again," Teal'c said. To others, his displeasure might not have been obvious, but Cassandra had known him half her life. She noted the turned down corners of his mouth and the sullen tone in his deep voice.
At one time, Cassandra would have eagerly asked for more information. Now, however, she didn't want to know. She understood Stargate operations enough to know that Pegasus Stargates superseded Milky Way Stargates, and therefore, as long as Atlantis remained on Earth, all off world teams left and arrived through the Ancient city. Apparently, Teal'c did not like this arrangement.
"Good luck off world. Come back alive."
She led them into a mostly deserted classroom where they could leave in secrecy and stood back while the white light of the Asgard beam transported them halfway across the United States. Chills raced up her spine. She had never travelled that way, and the very thought of being dematerialized and assembled elsewhere gave her cold sweats.
o o o
Back outside, Cassandra took a seat at a picnic table around the quad and enjoyed the gentle lake breeze and the knowledge she had graduated law school. She gazed out at the lawn and the conversation continuing between Jack, Sam, and Tessa.
"Good afternoon, Miss Fraiser, and congratulations."
She started and turned sharply around to find the speaker. His voice sounded lyrical and polite, and she immediately connected it to the small man in a finely tailored navy blue suit and striped tie hovering on the pavement. He was going bald and wore large glasses, though neither affected the confidence with which he held himself. The sun in her eyes kept her from seeing his face clearly, and seeing her squint, he moved over a step to block the light for her.
"Uh, thank you." She tried to place him as a professor or lecturer or even a guest speaker, but she felt certain she had not seen him before. "And thank you."
The gentleman smiled what Cassandra had come to call a 'lawyer's smile.' It was the sort of half-genuine, half-predatory look she had come to associate with a professor pouncing on her argument, tearing it to shreds, and confounding her with a platitude like 'nice effort.' She returned the look with one of mild interest.
"You're wondering who I am and how I know you. My name is Richard Woolsey." He went on listing his affiliations and job experience, but Cassandra knew him by name. She felt a lurch in her stomach, like she was falling without a net, at being confronted by the IOA so unexpectedly.
"I know who you are, Mr. Woolsey," she said when he'd finished giving a condensed vitae. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was an alien living on Earth, and therefore subject to IOA review. "Please have a seat. What can I do for you on my graduation day?"
Mr. Woolsey gave an almost inaudible laugh as he sat. "I see you expect the worst when the IOA comes to call. I'm not here to deliver any messages or summons. I've come on a professional matter."
"Ah, I see. So which of my classmates is getting recruited?"
That lawyer's smile surfaced again, and this time Cassandra felt it was more predatory than friendly. "Since Atlantis has been on Earth, there have been certain logistical problems due to our gate superseding the Earth gate. I have tried to work with General Landry to manage the situation, but it has become clear Atlantis needs more personnel devoted to administration. I am particularly looking for someone with diplomacy and tact when dealing with the various parties interested in using the Stargate."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes as she replayed his carefully rehearsed speech in her head. "Stargate Command teams and Atlantis teams are making a kind of scrum at the event horizon. Everyone is jockeying for mission priority, and they all expect you to sort it out for them."
"Yes. On top of which, the city is still badly damaged and repairs are ongoing. Along with all of the other teams with off world missions, the population of the city has doubled with crews to repair and even rebuild portions of Atlantis. I'm looking for an executive assistant who is a capable diplomat and can prioritize small matters within the larger framework."
"So naturally you want a lawyer." Cassandra saw the logic in it. Their profession required the piecing together of minute details within the context of the law to argue a position. If anyone could see the forest and the trees, proverbially speaking, it was a lawyer. "Are you looking for a recommendation, Mr. Woolsey? I've known these people for three years, and I think several of them would do very well for you."
"There is one other requirement, naturally. They need security clearance."
That brought her up short. As far as she knew, the only person in her class with any security clearance, much less a level high enough to know about the Stargate program was …. "Oh, no, Mr. Woolsey. No, I am not interested."
"You are a natural candidate for the Stargate program."
"Maybe so, but I have no interest in joining. I've moved on with my life. The Stargate isn't the center of my world anymore."
"And yet you invited no one to your law school graduation but high-ranking members of the Stargate program."
Cassandra took a breath. Getting into a têt-á-têt with Richard Woolsey would do no good. He was a highly skilled lawyer with years of experience; she had been a law school graduate for an hour. She stood up to take her leave, even if it meant barging in on an informal Homeworld Command meeting.
"Nevertheless, Mr. Woolsey, a disinterested lawyer is a bad lawyer. I may have the degree and clearance you're looking for, but I have no desire to do this job. I thank you for your consideration and the offer, but I have other plans in mind for my future."
Mr. Woolsey stood from the table, smoothing out his tie as he did so. "May I ask you one final question, Miss Fraiser?" When she nodded, he went on. "The Stargate program is the reason you survived the tragic events on your planet, and the reason you and millions of other humans are no longer enslaved to the Goa'uld. Why are you not interested in joining a program responsible for so much good?"
Cassandra swallowed thickly and glanced away. She stared over the grass rippling in the wind for a long time. "I assume that you have never watched every person you've ever known die of an illness that seems to you retribution from the gods. I will also assume you have never been turned into a human bomb nor felt your DNA rewrite itself inside your body. Sometimes, Mr. Woolsey, a person has simply seen enough."
He stared at her for a long moment, his lawyer smile gone and replaced with grim resignation. "I can understand your position, Miss Fraiser, and I can't fault you for it. If you intended to turn me away with that answer, however, I'm afraid it didn't work. I'm more convinced than ever you are just the sort of person we need. If you change your mind, this is how you can reach me."
"And if I don't?"
"Then expect another visit from me."
Mr. Woolsey left a brown file folder on the table and departed without delay. Cassandra lowered herself down onto the bench again and flipped open the folder. A business card with a Washington, D.C. phone number had been affixed inside with a paper clip. The other documents in the folder, however, did not relate to contact information. Quickly, Cassandra glanced through the pages.
"Mr. Woolsey," she said, shaking her head. If nothing else, the man was as sharp as a tack. He knew exactly what to give her to pique her interest.
She closed the folder as Jack, Sam, and Tessa came over. She would have a lot to think about over the next several days, but for now, she wanted to enjoy what little time she had with her godparents and best friend.