Chapter 3
Stormy Weather: "Since my love and I ain't together, I'm weary all the time"
June 10, 2009
22:13 OST
USS Hammond
Sam sighed and blew a loose strand of hair away from the side of her face as she surveyed various boxes and the generally organized chaos that was her office on the Hammond.Her desk was piled with departmental reports, scientific analyses, two touchpads, and a laptop. All around her were boxes, most of which she had yet to open, let alone empty.
In the ten days since the Hammond's launch, Sam had been so busy that she'd still hadn't managed to really unpack. She didn't use her office much, far less on the Hammondthan she had on Atlantis, so setting it up was low on her list of priorities. Her quarters were a little bit better than her office, but if an outside observer where looking at both spaces, they'd probably say that Sam had not yet moved in.
Sam regretted thinking there was such thing as an easy, quick mission. Ten years on SG1 should have been sufficient to prove that this was never true, but sometimes she still found herself surprised by the infinite number of snags any given mission could run into.
When have things ever been easy?
The ship's initial journey to study the Horsehead Nebula had been interrupted by an interesting ion storm, a research opportunity that was too good to pass up.
"It is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Ma'am," Dr. Aguda had pleaded, hands held before him with fingers splayed, when the storm first appeared on the sensors. Sam acquiesced because of course scientifically it was, and they could hardly loose the chance to study the phenomena up close.
Subsequent examination of the storm had revealed a kink in the Hammond's debris collection systems, which necessitated organizing a space walking team to repair. Sam was always a little tense during space walks, and since this was her crew, under her command, she had been more than a little nervous, at least internally. Luckily the repair went off without a hitch, and the ship had proceeded to their original destination.
Upon arrival, they had sent a probe toward the nebula, but it initially ran into trouble transmitting data. The problem turned out to be caused by an unusual magnetic field, which the probe team were able to compensate for, and eventually receive data transmission from the Horsehead. The scientists on her ship, and the scientist in Sam herself, were happily speculating why a magnetic field of that type existed near the nebula first place and whether it could be harnessed for power. Now things had calmed down.
Finally, I can unpack.
The first box was quick and easy. Half scientific reference books, and the other half the rest of her photos. She quickly placed them on the set of shelves that lined the wall next to her desk. Sam didn't really know why, but she liked to take photos of her friends and family with her whenever possible. It was kind of fortifying. It gave her strength to see their faces, and to at least have their images close by, even when they were light years away. When she packed for this tour, she'd brought a particularly impressive picture of General Hammond, which she placed prominently on her shelves.
As Sam opened the second box she had to laugh, because it appeared that her old team, and Jack had infiltrated the packing. It seemed that each had snuck in a gift for her.
Cam's gift was simple, a box of Chips Ahoy cookies, with a post-it note that said:
'Don't Worry. I didn't bake them. -C'.
Sweet! No Macaroons!
Teal'c's gift was a neatly wrapped CD of Bach Cello suites. No note required.
A smile ghosted her lips Sam slipped the disk into her laptop. She sighed and leaned back, letting herself get lost in the music. She could never know what SG1 exactly experienced during their 50 years trapped aboard the Odyssey. And poor Teal'c never told them anything. But since his return from the ship, Sam sometimes felt that Teal'c knew her better than she knew herself.
As the music played on she moved on the a frilly pink gift bag that could only have come from Vala. She pulled out the note and began to read:
'Darling,
I know you won't admit it to us, but you're probably going to be missing "you-know-who" rather a lot. A certain General. Yes, your boyfriend. No cozy evening chats or weekend visits and such in outer space. You're bound to be a bit, well, frustrated, so here is the next best (battery-operated) thing!
- Vala
P.S. Despite what box we snuck these into, best not keep this gift in the office, eh?'
Oh my God! She wouldn't.
Sam's eyes widened and needlessly scanned the empty office around her, before peering into the bags contents. She flushed as she discovered that Vala would and did give Sam a vibrator as a going away gift.
Sometimes I wonder about her.
Sam swallowed and hurriedly folded down the top of the bag before stuffing it under her desk chair, to make sure she'd remember to take it with her when she returned to her quarters. She thanked her lucky stars that she'd declined the earnest offers to help unpacking she'd received from Colonel Swift and Lieutenant Martinez. She might possibly have disintegrated with embarrassment if either of them had inadvertently discovered this particular gift. The thought actually made her shutter.
Daniel's gift was far less embarrassing. He'd given Sam the dvd sets of two of her favorite old musicals, The Music Man and The King and I.
In all honesty, movies like this could be her guilty pleasure, though being friends with the men of SG1 meant that she rarely got to watch them. Usually Teal'c's choice of film prevailed on team movie nights.
That's why we've seen Star Wars too many times to count.
Daniel's note was simple, and Sam lingered on his familiar and nearly illegible handwriting:
'If ya got trouble, up there on the Hammond, just hold your head erect, whistle a happy tune, and no one will suspect you're afraid. Or so they say, if you believe in musicals. Besides, you don't need to be afraid. You are amazing, and you'll do well in command.
We all love you,
Daniel'
Sam deliberately left Jack's gift for last. She pulled the simple brown paper bag from the bottom of the box and shook it slightly so its contents spilled out on to her desk. It was like a goody bag. A rubix cube, a yoyo, a little plastic soldier with a parachute launcher, a metal slinky, and a wind up cat all clattered to the surface of her desk. Last of all, a folded piece of yellow legal pad paper fell from the bag,
Sam laughed and wound up the little cat, letting it dance across the edge of her desk before she unfolded the note. It was brief, but Sam poured over every word:
'Office must haves. Paperwork sucks. The parachute guy is cool.
Stay safe and come back,
-Jack'
Sam knew the unwritten addendum to the note would be "Stay safe, and come back to me".
As she moved to trace his hand writing with her fingers, Sam noticed something strange out of the corner of her eye. The cat toy that had been winding its way across her desk was now hovering several centimeters above its surface.
Okay. That's not supposed to happen.
It took her mind a few seconds to catch up, but Sam suddenly realized that everything not bolted down in her office, including herself, was strangely floating. Not entirely weightless, but definitely not influenced by the ship's supposedly standard gravity.
Before her mind could fully process what was happening around her, the Hammond, lurched to one side violently, taking Sam along with it. Her face smacked the edge of the desk, and she saw stars.
Sam tapped her ear piece and shouted, "Bridge, report!"
No response.
"Colonel Swift, what's happening?"
Still no response.
The ship rocked again, sending Sam's head back into her desk, this time splitting her lip. Wiping blood, she clumsily moved to the door, awkwardly floating in the altered gravity.
What the hell?
"Colonel Carter to anybody?"
She hurried towards the bridge, pushing off from her door way, and moving from wall to wall.
When she reached the bridge she found Marks, Kleinman, and Martinez frantically manning their stations, each contorted into a strange position as they worked hard to remain still in the low gravity. She glanced at the view screen, surveying the situation, and calculated her options. Only one ship was firing at them. Sam figured the old Goa'uld vessel had to belong to the Lucian Alliance. Their best bet would be to get out of this fight as soon as possible.
We need an exit strategy.
"Report, guys?"
"Ma'am!" Martinez exclaimed, "Thank god you're here!"
The wide eyed Lieutenant had never looked so young in Sam's eyes.
"They just dropped out of hyperspace and started shooting at us!" Marks said, looking unusually rattled, "No response to our hails. And I don't know they did it, but most of our systems are all messed up."
"Ya think?" Sam said as she doggedly propelled her self from the doorway to her own station, and began immediately typing commands to help with the shields.
"It's not just internal gravity, Colonel," Marks continued counting down issues on his fingers, "Communications are down, weapons are sluggish, Kleinman's had to constantly rotate our shield frequency to keep us from breaking up, and the inertial dampeners are definitely compromised-"
As though fate cruelly wanted to illustrate that last statement, the ship again rocked violently, sending Mark's flying from his station and squarely into the wall. His limbs and head hung eerily, and his unconscious body slid back and forth in mid-air as the attack continued. He was out cold, and Sam felt bad but neither she, nor Martinez or Kleinman could take a moment to tend to him.
Not if we want the ship to survive.
"Lieutenant take over the pilot seat," Sam shouted, even as Martinez was already pulling herself into Marks's chair.
Kleinman seemed to be struggling to stay one step ahead of their adversary as he manually rotated shield frequency. Sweat dripped from his brow and his breathing was ragged.
"Kleinman, I rigged a program that will auto scramble our shield harmonics, okay?" Sam said quickly, "I want you to transfer the shield control to my station and then target their shield generators and hyperdrive with the rail-guns. Fire on my command."
She turned to Martinez. The young soldier was more than overwhelmed, so Sam kept her voice as calm as possible, "Lieutenant, I need you to do everything I say exactly when I say it. No hesitation. No fear. Trust me, you can do this. Head directly for the enemy vessel, maximum thrusters."
"Yes, Ma'am." The ship plunged forward.
Sam kept her eyes fixed on the enemy vessel, mentally calculating the distance between their ships. Just a little closer. A little closer. Okay, there.
"Fire a 4 missile burst!"
Kleinman didn't need to be told twice and Sam watched as one, two, three, and four shots headed out into space. The Hammond continued to head straight for the other ship, which was now taking up a frighteningly large amount of their viewscreen. She watched, waiting until just the right moment of weapons impact. Right now!
"Martinuez. Nosedive! Now. Take us down!"
The ship lunged as the Lieutenant pulled the ship into a steep decent. At least from their perspective, Sam thought, considering there was no real up or down in space. Without the intertial dampeners, the ride was almost sickening, and Sam imagined that the people on the rest of the vessel might be afraid that they'd taken a devastating hit. Without comms there was no way of telling them it was part of Sam's plan.
Oh well.
Clinging to the edge of her seat, when the angle of the ship seemed sufficient, Sam shouted, "Hyperspace, now!"
She closed her eyes and hoped that their weapons burst and sudden dropping act had distracted and disabled their attackers enough to let them jump into hyperspace and get away. She relaxed somewhat when the ship settled into a calm hyperjump. Gravity seemed to return to normal too.
"Signs of pursuit?" Sam asked urgently.
Kleinman scanned his consul and breathed a sigh of relief, "No Ma'am. We got away."
"Good. Nice work people," Sam nodded, "Set our hyperspace course for Delta Site. We'll need some repairs."
Martinuez breathed an audible sigh of relief and Sam clapped the young officer on the shoulder, quickly making her way to the injured Major Marks. He now lay sprawled out on the floor. She was just checking his pulse when the bridge doors opened. Colonel Swift and Dr. Laura Tinder burst in, along with a few soldiers from below decks and a few medical assistants.
"What the hell just happened?" Colonel Swift exclaimed.
"I don't know exactly," Sam answered, shaking her head, "but I think its safe to say that the Lucian Alliance isn't so happy we're out here. From now on,we have to be extra vigilant. Doctor, Major Marks needs medical attention."
The medical team moved toward Marks. Colonel Swift shook his head in disbelief and began flicking through data on the attack at the weapons consul, and Sam moved to join him before she felt a hand on her arm. It was Dr. Tinder.
"Now Ma'am, you are in need of medical attention too."
"What?"
No I'm not.
"You're bleeding. I'd say you might even need a stitch or two."
The doctor lifted Sam's chin and prodded at her lower lip. Pain exploded through Sam's skin and jaw and she pulled her head back with a small grunt.
Oh, that. Damn.
Sam vowed to investigate this attack thoroughly and planned to start as soon as she got away from the infirmary with the stitches.
Sam was angry. She was royally pissed. Someone had attacked her ship. Endangered her crew. She was determined to find out how they did it. And why. Because this attack had made Sam confront some disconcerting truths. For all the advanced systems, and fabulous crew the Hammondhad, in many ways it was still a very small tin can in a vast space. Even with all that technology, the crew's lives rested on a fragile balance of luck and skill. Anything could happen to them.
I have to keep my crew safe.
June 25, 2009
13:15 EST
Washington DC
Jack stood next to his favorite hot dog stand in DC. It wasn't every day that he was able to get out and away from the Pentagon for lunch, so he relished the time outside. He could get a hot dog, relax for a few minutes on a bench and take a moment to pause and straighten out his jumbled thoughts. Things with the IOA, hell the whole Stargate program, seemed like they were spinning out of control lately.
Hell of a week. Scratch that. It's been a hell of a month.
When he got right down to it, Jack figured it was safe to say that it had really been a hell of a decade. Currently, everyone in the IOA and Homeworld command was still on edge about the uncertain fate of Atlantis, as the repairs to the city took longer than planned, delaying the decision about its future. Strom and his IOA cronies were still acting odd, and strategically leaving Jack and the military out of a lot of their planning. Senator Armstrong's stupid video game project, Prometheus, was well underway, and apparently pretty popular on the so called 'online gaming scene'.
Those folks should get up and do something with their lives.
Jack took his hot dog, paid, and thanked the vendor, before making his way to a nearby bench and sitting down. His thoughts and mood were actually mostly occupied with worrying about Sam, up there, wherever, in space aboard the Hammond. The ship had been attacked three times since it's launch and had had to return to dry dock once already. Sam had been injured in the first attack, though to hear her tell it, the injury was just a scratch.
Maybe it was, but it all still made Jack anxious. He knew it was her job, and he knew that she loved commanding that ship. Knowing didn't make him feel any better. Anything could happen to her, and Jack would be down here on earth, absolutelypowerless to help, and probably unaware that anything gone a wry. Sam could be dead for days before anyone on earth knew about it.
She can take care of herself, Jack. You know that.
Jack did know full well that Carter was as capable, hell more capable, than just about anyone. Years of working together on the same team had taught him that. It didn't stop him from worrying though. Maybe he was just getting old. Jack just didn't want to lose Carter, not after all they'd gone through to be together. He'd never tell her any of this, because he knew that she really did love her job, and he was determined that Sam should have the best in her career. He wanted her to live up to her fullest potential. Even if it scared the crap out of Jack.
I don't know what I'd do if I lost her.
Jack shook off the thought, and took a big bite of his hot dog. Cass and Sam would both have his butt if they knew he was eating this. The thought made Jack smile a little, before he took another bite. Them and their, "eat healthy, and live longer" kick. Jack thought life had taught him that everything was too short and too fragile not to enjoy a hot dog or two. And maybe Sam and Cassie had a point, but it wasn't like they'd find out about his hot dog eating habits.
What they don't know, won't hurt them. Or make them mad and make them hurt me.
Jack was staring out at the park view when he noticed a figure walking toward him out of the corner of his eye. He glanced that direction and was surprised to see that it was Dr. Rush headed down the path toward him.
Maybe he is just out for a walk too.
When the severe looking scientist stopped and stood right in front of Jack's bench, he knew that he was wrong. The other man had come here with a purpose, and Jack wondered what it could be.
Probably more IOA political crap. I just wanted to eat in peace.
"Dr. Rush," he said in cautious greeting.
"General."
"Fancy meeting you here."
"May I sit down?"
Jack eyed the place next to him and took a bite of his hot dog. "This is my lunch break, Rush. So, you better have a good reason for interrupting."
The scientist seemed to take this as a yes, because he sat down next to Jack. He stared out at the park too, crossing his arms.
"I think I do have a good reason, General. I have a proposition for you."
"A proposition, you say? What are you talking about?"
"The Prometheusgame."
"I know I'm not playing it. Are you?"
Rush let out a small laugh, "Of course not. I think it is just as bad for the program as you do. But, unfortunately it seems that the IOA doesn't care for our opinions on the subject."
Right. More IOA political crap. Just what I need.
Jack remained silent and continued staring out at the park. Rush did have a point. Both he and General Vidrine had opposed putting so much information, even thinly veiled, out into the public space. The television show Wormhole Xtreme allowed the program to maintain plausible deniability if there was a security breach, but it's information content was largely fluff. Prometheus on the other hand, contained potentially recognizable mathematical information, which might be more damning in a potential leak. Plus it rested a huge weight of responsibility on an under-prepared, ordinary person. The 'winner' of the game would be asked to join the program and to solve the Icarus 9th chevron math problem.
Every other scientist brought into the program had been specifically picked, and carefully trained for their roles. Both Jack, and Vidrine, various generals, and several scientists, including Rush had protested using the game, but it seemed that the IOA had the president's ear on the matter. Each protest had been overruled, and the whole thing made Jack feel uneasy, so he decided to listen to Rush's piece.
"You know, General," Rush began, "Dr. Jackson recruited me into this program."
So?
Jack pursed his lips but still said nothing. Rush didn't seem to notice as he continued to talk.
"I was reluctant to join actually. In part because I didn't trust the American military." The scientist took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, "Truth be told, I still don't."
Well isn't that surprising.
"But I was convinced that Dr. Jackson trusted you. I trust him. Scientist to scientist. I believe what he told me. That after years of working together with you, he believed in the decisions you made. That you could make them for greater good, beyond your military orders. Which is why I think, in relation to this Prometheusproblem, we should work together."
Jack turned to look at Rush more closely. He raised a skeptical brow. "Oh yeah? Why?"
"Those monitoring the game progress have a reasonable idea of who the front runners could be. To date the most advanced player, the one who is closet to completing the game, and who will likely solve the puzzle? A college drop out," Rush snorted, "When he solves it, the IOA will take this young man, and bend him to their agenda before he even has time to comprehend the gravity of his circumstances. I propose that we beat them to it. Whoever wins should meet us first. Me and you."
Oh, boy.
Jack winced a little and snidely added, "You're suggesting we 'bend him to our will' first. Because we both hate the IOA? That's too simple."
Rush gave Jack a humorless tight lipped smile and tilted his head. Jack knew that there was something more to this. Something more personal.
"You want to meet him; to 'bend' him. But, my guess is that the IOA are going to want to set him up and reel him in with someone more official than you. Strom, even our fine Senetor, maybe. Or a General. To meet him first, you need me. You are afraid the winner will be smarter than you. So, you want to get him under your wing before you work with him because your afraid. He'll have solved something you couldn't, and you need me to help you get to him."
"Perhaps." The scientist responded evenly.
Jack exhaled and shook his head. Rush was a nervy guy, Jack had to give him that.
"I think you might find the idea to be mutually beneficial. If we both took an interest, and helped him navigate entry into the program, the winner would be brought under the wing of the military as well."
Devious schemer has a point.
Jack breathed evenly, biting the inside of his cheeks. Rush may not be entirely trustworthy, but he definitely had a valid argument. Whomever did win this little video game could potentially become a sort of pawn for the IOA and certain members of congress. If they really did have any potential, they'd probably end up having a hard time overcoming the label. If they had any chance of working well and contributing to the program on their own terms, without the IOA meddling and the reputation of being the game winner, this person would need connections with various other parts of the program. Getting them out of the grip of the IOA early would be the best bet. As much as Jack hated it, it might be the right political move.
Politics really blows. This gives me a bad feeling.
"Will you do it?" Rush's voice interrupted Jack's thoughts.
Damn it.
"Alright," Jack said finally. "I'll meet the winner with you. We'll work together on this. I'll do it."
Rush nodded curtly in response, before rising to leave.
"I don't think you'll regret it."
Oh no? I already do.
"I'll leave you to your lunch then."
Jack nodded and watched the scientists retreating figure. He sighed and looked down at his food, before setting his wrapped hot dog on the bench beside him. Somehow he wasn't so hungry anymore.
July 28, 2009
11:01 OST
USS Hammond
Sam sat at the head of a table in the conference room aboard the Hammond. They were on a supply and transport run to Icarus base, their 3rd in as many weeks. The scientists were getting a bit restless. Icarus runs took time away from the Hammond'sscientific and exploratory mission, but as a Colonel, Sam understood the military need for this mission as well. It also gave them a bit of a break from near constant attacks from the Lucian Alliance.
For some, as yet unknown reason, the alliance attacked the ship almost anytime they stopped anywhere to do any research, with a devastating ability to scramble the Hammond's systems. Luckily they hadn't lost any crew members, but Sam was endlessly bothered by the way their attackers seemed to get into their systems, no matter what changes the computer team made.
The problem was constantly on her mind, and it did show her a reason not to enjoy command. Before being in charge, Sam would have spent all her time locked up in a lab trying to find a solution, or a better way to shore up their defenses. A part of her itched to do that right now. She'd rather do that than sit in a meeting, even if the meeting was important.
In a matter of minutes she would be speaking with two of her best scientists, hopefully to placate them a little about doing so many non-scientific missions. The shipboard dynamics between nonmilitary and military personnel were becoming a little strained. Nothing Sam felt she couldn't handle. This was way easier in the civilian to soldier ratio than Atlantis.
And elsewhere, a team of her crew members were locked up in their labs working on their Lucian Alliance problem. Which they were easily capable of doing, without her constant participation.
I have to trust my people to do their jobs. Easier said than done.
Sam's upcoming meeting was with a couple of scientists, who Sam suspected were a little sore at having their experiment timeline's pushed out because of the Icarus mission. Hopefully, she could placate them easily enough, and get back to working with her people to create a fool proof defense against the Lucian Alliance. Sam drummed her fingers on her desk, and glanced at her watch. She was expecting Dr. Karen Foote from nano technology, and Dr. Aguda. She didn't know Dr. Foote too well, but Sam thought it was very uncharacteristic of Aguda to be late, or dissatisfied with the ship's mission.
Then again, everyone has their limit.
Finally the conference room doors hissed open and the two scientists slipped in. As they took their seats, Sam was reminded of going to the principal's office as a child. Only now I'm the principal. Not exactly the relationship with her scientists she really wanted to foster.
Dr. Aguda in particular looked exceptionally uncomfortable. He flashed Sam an apologetic smile, which Sam easily returned. Dr. Foote however, looked anything but sympathetic. The elegant British scientist sat directly across from Sam and glared, jaw set and fists clenched.
Here we go.
"Okay, people," Sam said breaking the tension in the room, "I think I have a pretty good idea of why you wanted to meet with me. Let me just start by saying that I do understand your concerns. However, I would remind you that this is still an Air Force Military vessel, and we are still subject to do our duty in assisting the fleet as needed."
And in all honesty, I doubt there would even be a meeting with you like this if we were on another vessel. Be grateful for small blessings, scientists.
"Yes, Ma'am," Dr. Aguda jumped in, "Iwould like to suggest perhaps doing some collaborative experiments with Icarus science teams. If it would be possible, that is. This way, we can make the most of this situation."
Sam nodded placing her hands in front of her with a faint smile. Aguda was a good scientist, and it didn't surprise her that he would seek some sort of consensus, and to look for opportunity rather than hindrance. In the short time she'd known him, Aguda had proven to be a loyal and optimistic crewmember. Sam liked the way he meshed with the science team and the rest of the crew, and frankly it was a relief to see that his purpose in this meeting was in keeping with the rest of his character.
"That's a good idea, Dr. Aguda. I can certainly look into that," Sam said brightly.
Before she could continue and further, however, Dr. Foote let out a rush of breath in an angry huff.
Well, not everyone is willing to be flexible.
"Colonel," the steely scientist began, "It seems as though all the resources of the program are being wasted on studying Icarus planets, and ninth chevrons. We don't even have an outpost for research in the Pegasus Galaxy anymore. Most of the universe remains unexplored. Unstudied. And here we have the US military guiding our research questions?"
Sam's curiosity was piqued. She didn't know Dr. Foote very well, but the woman's scientific background and previous record was exemplary. And each of the previous meetings Sam had had with Foote had never given her a clear idea of the scientist's personal beliefs. She raised her eyebrows skeptically, "This is a military vessel, part of a military program. You knew what you were getting into when you got on board.."
Foote huffed again, "I did, yes. But I joined because it was the only way to really be out here. The military has a monopoly on the Stargate Project, which really is the only meaningful way to do any work related to outer space. What else can a scientist of my caliber do? Work for NASA? Not bloody likely, now that we know what's out here."
Someone's confident. Well, points for being honest. But have you heard of the IOA? They call the shots at least as much as the military these days.
Sam pursed her lips and sighed, "It's not that simple. The Hammondis a military vessel, even if scientific research is part of our mission. We also have duty and a responsibility to protect earth in whatever way we are asked..."
"Protect earth, or protect earth's interests? We are trying to be the dominant power in the Milky Way, are we not? Although, who's to say whether we should be. No matter. And so the military is limiting the direction scientific inquiry in order to achieve that goal. Dictating what can and can't be studied. Which means my research is curtailed. It's extremely frustrating."
Neither of us are in a position to make a call on any of that.
"I think that this isn't really a conversation that you should bring to this venue. I'm here to hear your concerns so that we can all work for a reasonable solution, together," Sam said through tight lips.
"Within your military orders?" Foote grumbled.
"Within the ships orders, yes. Make no mistake," Sam answered, lowering her voice, and trying to keep the edge in her voice from becoming a snarl. "There would be no Hammond, no program, and no earth if it wasn't for the Air Force."
Dr. Aguda held up his hands, seemingly to placate a situation that was becoming increasingly hostile, "Colonel, I'm sorry, Idid not come here to have this particular argument."
He winced and glanced apologetically to Dr. Foote, who now focused her glare on him. "Dr. Foote, perhaps it would be best to stick to discussing solutions we can be a part of. With respect, I do not think that any of we three here can really address this. Civilian and military concerns, eh? They seem never to quite manage to line up. It is a conflict, I believe, that will be fought and settled by others than us."
Sam slid her eyes back and forth between her two crew members, thankful once again for Dr. Aguda's harmony seeking personality. He probably shared some of the same concerns Dr. Foote had, yet he sought to make the best of the current situation. Taking a deep breath and nodding, Sam finally added, "That's probably true."
Glancing down at her watch, Sam pursed her lips. She'd only been able to spare a short amount of time for this meeting, and it was already running over. Not that much progress had been made.
Damn.
"I'm afraid that's all we have time for right now," she said quietly. "I will do what I can to see what kind of joint projects the science teams can work on when we have to do Icarus runs. I think it would also be useful for you to maybe invest in some longer term ship based research. Something low maintenance that each department can turn to at times when we can't continue our planned experiments."
Dr. Foote still looked mutinous, but said nothing. Dr. Aguda nodded and rose to leave, using his head to beckon his colleague toward the exit. "That is good Ma'am. We...I very much appreciate your concern and assistance. Thank you for meeting with us."
"I'd be happy to meet with you, both, again," Sam added as they headed out the door. She wasn't exactly expecting Dr. Foote to come back, and sure enough only Aguda aknowledged her statement with a small smile. When the room was empty, Sam was left alone with only her uneasiness to keep her company. She sighed and gathered her things and made her way to her office.
I wonder how many of the civilian scientists feel the same way Dr. Foote does?
Sam set her tablet on her desk and frowned. She could almost understand if they did. It was a moslty military crew. The civialian scientists were out numbered by soldiers almost 10 to 1. At times, the civilians must feel as though their concerns were being ignored. They couldn't all understand the chain of command, or the importance of following orders. Well, logically they probably understood it, Sam conceded. But they might not all buy into it. Certainly not in the same way that soldiers did. The divide between science and military was a fine line that Sam walked all the time.
Now she had to wonder how she'd balance the issue among her crew. Sam rubbed her eyes, and leaned back in her office chair. Yet another thing to keep her eye on while commanding the Hammond.She really did love her job, but she could admit, even to herself, that sometimes it made her feel very tired. She had another meeting to go to, but Sam just stayed at her desk. She needed a moment to pause. A moment to breath.
Don't get so worked up. You only have to worry about getting these supplies to Icarus base. And that whole Lucian Alliance thing. And now this thing with the civilians...
Sam smiled slightly as she caught sight of the little plastic parachute man that Jack had sent her for her office. It sat on the edge of her desk, right next to her favorite picture of SG1 and Cassie at her graduation. The job made her tired only sometimes, but she always missed them. Sam missed Jack. Reaching over, she picked the little toy up, and settled it into its launcher. She pulled the spring back and let the little soldier man fly. He flew into the air, his parachute opened, and the toy made a graceful arc across the room and onto the floor.
Sure. I'll manage all this. Piece of cake.
August 8, 2009
17:45 EST
Homeworld Command
Jack sat at his desk closing out his computer and rounding out his files after a long day at work. The Prometheus game had served its purpose. Tomorrow Jack and Dr. Rush would be off to meet with some twenty-something college drop out, Eli Wallace. A twenty something, not so very different from Cassie and her friends, her boyfriend even. Kid's file was unremarkable as far as Jack could tell. Even Cass's boyfriend Sean had managed get his undergraduate degree, and a job. This kid didn't even have that. And yet, he'd solved a challenging math puzzle, which meant that Eli Wallace would get the shot at solving an important problem that even the best of the Stargate Program's best scientists couldn't crack.
Makes so much sense.
Shaking his head, Jack looked up at the sound of a knock on his office door. Senator Armstrong. Justthe person Jack wanted to see. Not. The politician had somehow finagled his way even further into the Icarus project. He and his 'assistant' would be joining Eli Wallace, taking a trip on Sam's ship to the Icarus planet, to get an up close tour of the base. The president and the IOA, in their infinite wisdom, had approved the trip.
Another brilliant idea.
Adding insult to injury, Jack knew that even though Sam was in orbit, so close,there was no way either of them could work the scheduling to actually physically see each other. And he missed her so much it hurt. So Jack was in a mood.
"What do you want Senator? I'm about to head out so..."
"I was just on my way out of a meeting with Dr. Strom. I thought I'd stop by. I know that you and Dr. Rush will be having the pleasure of meeting our young prodigy tomorrow," Armstrong said smugly, walking up to Jack's desk.
Oh, so you've come to rub it in. You still think your idea is so great.
"Dunno if the kid is a prodigy, but yeah. We will."
"It's amazing what sorts of things are possible by moving outside the box. Vetting new ideas and pushing for causes you believe in."
Jack scowled, "Save your campaign speech. I'm not in your district."
Armstrong only blinked sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet.
"It's a brave new world, a new universe out there, General," the politician continued, surveying the various medals, photographs and nicknack's that filled the shelved behind Jack's desk.
Jack swiveled in his office chair, turning slightly behind him, trying to figure out which of this office stuff exactly captured Armstrong's eye so. The Senator seemed to have his eye on a picture of Cassie's graduation. Jack, Sam, and the original SG1 and clustered around the joyous graduate.
A half smile spread across Armstrong's face. "You have a daughter."
I love her like a daughter.
"Cassie Frasier is," Jack said brow furrowing slightly at the politicians unexpected change of topic, "Very important to me."
The second most important person in my life, next to Sam.
"Ah, yes. I remember reading the mission file," Senetor Armstrong nodded. "Lone survivor of an alien plague. Discovered by SG1. Obviously that bond has lasted."
The politician still had a dreamy sort of expression, and Jack stared perplexedly as the man leaned closer to him, "She looks about my Chloe's age. So fresh. Full of ideas. And potential. Probably not so different from Mr. Wallace."
Jack tilted his head, sniffed and looked at his hands. "Maybe not," he said guardedly.
"Don't you want her to have the chance to meet her full potential? If that means going out into the universe, wherever our ships and the Stargate could take us, then don't you want her to have every opportunity?" Armstrong had slipped his hands out of his pockets, and now held them clasped together as though he was pleading with Jack to understand. "I know I want that for Chloe, and I think Mr. Wallace's family will too."
"It's a dangerous universe, Senator. I want Cass to be safe. To live long enough to meet her potential. Maybe that makes me a spoilsport, but I know what's out there. And Cassie knows more than most. Your daughter doesn't. Eli Wallace doesn't," Jack said turning in his chair to face the politician. "And frankly, neither do you."
"I know you've been a part of all this for more than a decade," Armstrong continued,"but you have to understand that this program has got to change. And grow. Eventually, every citizen of earth will know about it, and will have the opportunity to contribute. The Stargate is one of our planet's best resources. You can't halt progress."
You think you've got this all figured out, huh?
Jack kept his face impassive, and said nothing.
"You don't think I should go to inspect Icarus Base?"
"No, but I doubt my thoughts will stop you," Jack said firmly. "If it were me, I sure as hell wouldn't take my kid with me. Or coax someone else's kid out there. Not until I knew they'd keep safe. Not until I was damned sure they were prepared. But that's just me."
The rush of words from Jack made Armstrong recoil a little, and the made stepped back from Jack's desk, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He frowned and lowered his eyebrows.
"I guess we don't agree then, General."
"I guess not."
As the other man began to make his way out of the office, Jack leaned forward and spoke in an even tone, "You're right, Senator. You can't halt progress. But I don't think it is such a good idea to rush things either."
"Well, we're all allowed to have different opinions. You have yours and I have mine. We'll see how it all plays out. Goodbye, General O' Neill."
Jack narrowed his eyes at Armstrong, muttering a half-hearted, "Bye."
I hope you have some luck. We'll see how it all plays out.
