"General Hammond?"
At first, Sam's a bit miffed that she's woken up a good two hours before the first morning alarm by a persistent airmen knocking on her door. Her moving from California to Hong Kong has given her a bad case of jet lag and she wants to get her sleeping schedule back into place before she's thrust into busy Jaeger work. But all her irritation dissipates when she peeks her head into the office and finds a familiar face greeting her.
"Actually," George Hammond replies. Sam steps into the office and salutes him. "Secretary-General."
Sam's eyes widen and she stands even stick straighter than before to show enough respect to the Shatterdome commander.
"Wow," she says, her voice awe-stricken. "Congratulations, Sir."
Hammond smiles and waves a hand at her.
"Oh, stand down for now. I don't want to talk to Colonel Carter, I want to talk to my Sammie."
Sam chuckles and heads around the table and into the embrace of her Uncle George, a close friend of the family who watched Sam grow up and flourish in both her military and scientific fields, especially during the rise of the Kaiju War.
"I heard what happened in San Diego," Hammond continues. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone."
"It's alright," she replies with a fake half smile. The sudden deaths of her family members when the Kaiju rampaged across Southern California is a memory she doesn't want to relive just yet.
Much to her pleasure, Hammond doesn't press on any information and notions Sam to sit on the leather chair in front of his office. As she sits, he reaches into his office drawer and pulls out a small pile of manila folders.
"Anyways," he says. "Do you know why you're here?"
"No, Sir," she replies, her eyes following the General's as he picks up one folder and reads the contents inside.
"Well, Colonel, you've been highly regarded for your exceptional work on Jaeger mechanics down in the Los Angeles Shatterdome."
"Excuse me?" she asks with a frown creasing her face. As far as she knows, being under the misogynistic and condescending command Secretary-General West made her almost want to quit the Jaeger program. The last thing she would expect is high marks on her report from that jerk of a man.
"Your reports have turned heads in this place."
"General West seems to beg to differ."
"Which is exactly why you got transferred in the first place." Hammond hands her the manila folder. "You've impressed a lot of people this past year. The science department is throwing your name around as becoming possible head of the Jaeger program. They have big plans in the following years."
Sam scans over the contents of the folder, giving a quick glance to the computer generated image of a Jaeger before moving onto the written reports.
"They want to start building Mark-4 Jaegers?" she asks.
"Not exactly. We do have a Mark-4 prototype, however, we'll get to that later. You will be overseeing the building process of each Mark-4 Jaeger."
"Is there a difference between these and Mark-3's?"
"Reading your reports, Jaeger mechanics want to stray away from installed nuclear reactors and transition to digital technology. This is to ensure the safety of our pilots without the risk of long term effects."
Sam nods feeling anticipation and excitement rise with her new job opportunity. In Los Angeles, she was just another worker in the sea of a Shatterdome. Now, she could actually make a difference.
"Now," Hammond continues, pulling up yet another manila folder and handing it to Sam. "There's another option for you. However, it may cost you the promotion as the head of the science department. I'm giving you an option here because this job intense and life threatening and it needs your full commitment and your physical and psychological energy."
She opens the manila folder and the first thing she sees is a picture of her in full Air Force dress blues with a fake smile plastered on her face. She cringes at the awkward black and white picture and reads the contents of the paper behind it.
REFERENCE EVALUATION FOR THE RECRUITMENT OF NEW JAEGER PILOTS - COL. SAMANTHA CARTER - UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
She glances up at Hammond, her jaw dropping and eyes wide.
"That is your second option," he says with an amusing glint in his eyes. "To become a Jaeger co-pilot for our new Mark-4 prototype. You have an impressive record, Colonel, not only with your scientific endeavors, but also in military combat, especially concerning your score in the combat simulator .Of course, it's not definite that you will be a pilot, as every candidate must be evaluated, but I have high hopes for you."
"Wow," Sam whispers. Her only goal since the start of the Kaiju War was to become a Jaeger co-pilot and she's had a rough fight to climb to the top.
"Take time to really let your options marinate in your head," Hammond says. "I'm sure both are life changing decisions for you, one more the other, but I want you to be sure about what you choose. Before you ask, I'm unsure as to who will be your co-pilot, but I'll let you know as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Sir," Sam replies.
"Good. Well, you have an hour until breakfast, so catch a little shut-eye. Evaluations are next week, so I'll need an answer by then. Dismissed."
She salutes and heads out, but not without crashing into a certain Air Force General.
"General O'Neill!" Sam exclaims, placing her hands on his chest. "I'm so sorry, oh god."
O'Neill shakes his head and places his hand on her shoulder. He looks disheveled as anyone would be in the morning: ruffled hair and half open eyes and clothes that he mindlessly threw on. Sam could feel her cheeks burn; she's never really notice how attractive he looks.
"Don't worry 'bout it," he mumbles in the sleepy morning voice that makes her cheeks warmer.
She watches him enter Hammond's office, holding her folders tight against her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart. After taking a few seconds to calm her adrenaline-filled body down, she heads back to her room to catch a quick nap.
She's standing inside her brother's home in San Diego, in the dining room with the beautiful view of the La Jolla neighborhood and beaches. She's standing at one end of the table, facing the window. Her niece is sitting on the other side of the table, behind the window and in front of her cake.
"Auntie Sammie! Look at this cake!"
Sam wants to move closer to Katie, but she finds her feet stuck into the ground, unable to move.
"Wow, sweetie," she says. "How old are you now?"
"I'm nine years old!"
Suddenly, hears a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday, but she could tell something's off;. The singing sounds distorted and dissonant, like garbled sounds in a horror movie. It makes her feel uneasy.
She tries to move, but no matter how hard she tries, her feet are stuck on the ground. At the same time she notices a figure rising from the ocean.
"Katie," Sam warns, her heartbeat growing as the Kaiju steps onto land. "We need to get out of here."
The singing grows louder with every second, loud enough so she couldn't hear her own voice.
"Katie!" she screams, watching as the Kaiju makes a beeline towards their house.
The singing is deafening now. She once again attempts to move, but nothing is working. She watches in horror as the Kaiju comes ever so closer to her brother's house. She could feel blood trickling down from her ears from the endless singing of Happy Birthday.
The Kaiju lunges towards their house, towards Katie and her birthday cake, through the glass window and-
Sam jolts awake, gasping and panting in a mess of sheets.
"Shit," she whispers, burying her sweat drenched face into the cradle of her arms, trying to calm her trembling body.
After a moment, she jumps out of bed, pulls up a pair of black cargo pants and storms outside.
Of course, once she steps out of her room, she finds herself running into General O'Neill.
"Colonel," he greets.
"Sir," Sam replies, her voice a little breathless from her nightmare..
"Seems like we're always bumping into each other," he says.
"Yeah."
"I live in the room across yours so…"
"Oh, I see."
For a second, Sam could see a hint of concern in his eyes at her unkempt state of dress.. The fluorescent lights make her cold sweat shine and she knows her hair is sticking up on all different sides.
"Are you heading out to breakfast?" he asks.
"Uh, maybe later."
O'Neill nods and she figures it's a good time to leave. With a salute, she turns around and makes a beeline towards the gym to distract herself from the dream.
At the end of the hallway, Sam turns around and finds that O'Neill's eyes are still on her. She shakes off the queasy feeling that fills on her stomach.