Chapter 21: A Hole in the Heart

Sub-Level 21, Stargate Command

3:21 P.M

Doctor Lam approached the gurney that carried the wounded Russian towards the infirmary.

"What her condition," The Doctor asked the medics.

"A single bullet wound to the chest," One of them replied.

Lam examined the chest wound and ordered a preparation for surgery. They were going to dig out the bullet.

Also in a gurney, behind the Russian, was the wounded Alliance solider that shot Alexeyeva. Several SFs were escorting the rear gurney, their rifles ready. Once the solider was placed into care, he was to be handcuffed onto the bed and kept there until he was ready to be placed in the brig several floors above. Unlike the Russian, the Alliance solider was conscious though he didn't make a sound, only staring at the guards watching back at him. Given his injuries, courtesy of one Russian Lieutenant Colonel, the solider wasn't going to need the same surgery as the one who injured him. The bullet wound that was inflicted upon him was a through and through. It would take less than an hour to patch him up before shipping him off to the slammer.

Sub-Level 20, Stargate Command

Noa angrily charged into the shower room.

Stepping into the shower, she hadn't bothered to undress and just allowed the water to splash onto her. Her hair was now drenched not with sweat but with plain water and yet her tears remained. Despite not appearing as such, Noa was a rather resourceful woman and used the sound of the shower running to suppress the sounds of sobbing.

Her sobbing.

She had always thought about dying, being alone, even sacrificing herself for others. She knew this kind of thinking would get her hurt and it did. But to watch someone else get harmed because of her…she never predicted it even with all the thinking she had done over the years. At the time, all she do could was just sit there, back to the wall, hands covering her tear ridden eyes…and pray that she didn't end up killing her friend, her commander. A sound of a door opening then closing was closely followed by footsteps.

"Private Williams?" The voice belonged to Samantha Carter. "Are you there?"

"Ye…yes ma'am," Noa replied, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Want to talk about what happened?" Sam asked.

Noa didn't reply.

Sam went up to the shower Noa sat in and shut off the water flow. After doing so, she knelt down next to the Canadian.

"What happened to the Colonel wasn't your fault." She spoke quietly.

Noa brought her legs together and buried her head in her knees.

"Maybe," Her voice muffled.

Sam backed away and sat on the bench in-between the rows of lockers.

"Alexeyeva is being prepped for surgery," She added. "The bullet didn't go in as deep as it could have so Doctor Lam is confident in the procedure,"

"Will she live?" Noa asked, flinching.

"It's too early to say." Was Sam's reply.

Neither of them said anything more.

The dripping of the water leaking through the faucets were the only sounds made for what seemed like forever.

"Witkowski and Ortega are currently giving a debrief of what happened," Carter finally spoke before standing. "I'll give you as much as you need to sort yourself out…"

She began to walk out before looking back.

"I'll let you know when surgery is complete, alright?"

Noa said nothing as Carter walked out the door, making the same sounds as she did walking in.

Sub-Level 28, Stargate Command

Milo Witkowski and Alexander Ortega were both sitting on the wall, leaning on two sides of a corner next to the General's office.

After filing their reports on what happened on N7M-321, neither man could do anything else except wait for their commander to get better, assuming she would. Milo kept his right knee bent and his right arm resting. Alexander sat in a pretzel position, keeping his head tilted upward, resting on the concrete wall behind him.

"How did this happen?" Milo finally blurted out.

Alex simply shrugged.

"I dunno amigo," He replied. "It's like shit…it happens,"

Milo laughed a bit.

Then, after shaking his head, the Major's laughter died off. He turned his head around the corner to face his friend.

"Well…that might be the best joke you've came up with in a long…long…time mate."

Alex half-smiled.

"Gracias, I guess," He replied.

"Do you only have good humor when people are dead or dying?" Milo asked.

"Humor is the best medicine," Alex replied again. "Is it not?"

"Maybe,"

"But all jokes aside…I don't know how someone manages to survive getting shot…follows the shooter half-way across the galaxy, in a split second mind you, and shoot her back."

"The way you commented after you tore him a new one…was he the same guy who butted you with his weapon?"

"Sí señor,"

"Must be rough,"

"Sorta,"

Milo nodded before returning his head to its original position.

"I assume he's in lock-up?" He asked.

"Yep,"

"Good, at least that bastard won't be a bother,"

"Yeah,"

Alex stood up and stretched out.

"So," He began. "What are we gonna do now?"

"Wait, that's what." Milo replied.

Sub-Level 18, Stargate Command

Daniel Jackson sipped into his coffee once more as he continued to examine the pictures taken of the device SG-26 retrieved from N7M-321.

He couldn't help feel terrible that while someone could very well be dying three floors below him, he's looking at some artifact. Of course it wasn't just some artifact; it was a Gou'ald sarcophagus that may hold a key to the entire puzzle involving Slavic mythology and weapons that could upset the power of the galaxy. Whoever was inside the sarcophagus…they just might be able to help them find the ZPM cache…if they were friendly. If they were, as Daniel saw it, the information they could learn might be worth the price they paid. He couldn't help but shake his head as this was something he never thought of before.

"Have you discovered anything interesting, Daniel Jackson?" It was Teal'c.

Daniel shook his head.

"It's not easy," He replied. "Knowing that someone might die today…and for what…this?"

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"I mean come on!" Daniel continued. "That should have been us on that planet, looking for this thing and…"

He sighed and sipped his coffee again, more recklessly this time.

"I don't know what to tell you Teal'c…part of me thinks it's worth it if we find something of value–"

"Is that what you believe, Daniel Jackson?"

Teal'c replied.

Daniel immediately shook his head.

"I don't think its right of me to say that, no." He responded. "I'm just saying…it's hard to concentrate."

"Perhaps you should rest then, Daniel Jackson." Was Teal'c reply.

Daniel didn't say anything.

He just simply sipped his coffee once more, looking at the pictures as the former first prime of Apophis walked away. Teal'c already knew the archeologist's answer. Taking another look at the writing from the sarcophagus, Daniel began to notice something. He got up and left his office, on a look for Sam.

Sub-Level 20, Stargate Command

Noa buttoned up her standard green SGC uniform jacket and threw her drenched clothing into the laundry basket. Before closing her locker, the Canadian took a long glance at herself on the mirror magnetized onto the back of the locker's door. Noa couldn't help but begin to think that maybe she shouldn't have accepted the position in Stargate Command. To end up seeing friends getting hurt and yet herself comes home unscathed…Williams no longer thought that being a galactic hero was all that it's cracked up to be. She shook her head, clearing it of any more distracting thinking, and closed the locker door. Then she left. Arriving at the elevator, Noa pressed the down button. Pulling her right sleeve, she checked her watch and found that it was 3:40, just as the elevator doors opened. Still looking at her watch as she walked in, Noa didn't realize where she was going.

"Oomph!" She grunted as she bumped into someone.

Looking up, in fear, she found that she walked into Colonel Mitchell.

"Easy there, Williams." He replied, smiling.

He was wearing a white tank top that read 'Air Force', in dark blue letters, and sweatpants and holding a basketball.

"Sorry, sir," Noa replied. "I should have been looking at where I was going,"

She sighed before pressing the '21' button.

"I see you had a good work out, sir." She commented.

Mitchell chuckled.

"I was actually going to the gym,"

Noa was now embarrassed.

"Sorry sir," She replied, covering her forehead with her hand. "I didn't realize."

"Don't be,"

Mitchell then began to play with the ball in his hands.

"My team and I are going to play some basketball,"

He then turned to the Canadian.

"Want to join us?"

Now it seemed that Noa was about to burst into tears.

Angrily, she faced Mitchell, bitterness in her eyes.

"How can you be so calm while someone is dying right underneath us?" Her voice was borderline yelling. "Do you have any idea how it feels to be so close to loosing someone?"

Mitchell's smile turned grim as he shook his head.

Leaning on the side of the elevator, holding onto the basketball, he sighed.

"Let me tell you something, Private," He replied. "Do you know what aneurysm is?"

Noa shook her head.

Mitchell scoffed, mumbling something.

"I had a friend, Bryce Ferguson." He continued. "We were cadets who made a promise to one another that we would get into NASA together. At some point in my life I got cocky and almost gotten myself killed."

The Colonel looked away.

"Then, being the friend everyone needs, he saved me."

A sigh.

"But he got shrapnel lodged into an inter-cranial artery in his head…he had four years to live."

Noa began to regret lashing out at Mitchell the way she did. She had no idea the kind of past the Colonel had.

"We both could have been F-302 pilots but because of his injury…I was the only one who made the cut."

Another moment of silence briefly fell upon the two.

"I went on to fight over Antarctica and become the commanding officer of SG-1, learning about what the galaxy had it in for us and fighting bad guys and saving the world while he just laid there on a hospital bed. If it hadn't been for General Landry, the previous CO of Stargate Command, Bryce never would have been able to experience what I had."

Now Willaims became somewhat confused and Mitchell took notice.

"We implanted some of my memories into his…probably the best thing he had."

A single tear went down Mitchell's cheek.

"He died six years ago…never got over it."

He smiled to himself, as he hoped for comfort.

"Sometimes I still think it was my fault…but what can I do, right?"

Noa turned away, ashamed of herself for being naïve.

"I didn't know, sir, and I'm sorry for your loss and how I reacted to your invite…"

She paused.

"I understand what you must be going through too Private Williams," Mitchell added. "And like you, I hope to god the Ruski is gonna pull through."

The two still had their heads away from one another.

"Still want to join me?" Mitchell finally asked again.

Noa then turned back to the Colonel, who was still turned away.

"Yeah, I'll play some B-ball," She finally added, half-smiling. "But I'll need to file a report on what happened off-world…but…it can wait,"

Then the elevator doors opened but no one left.

The doors closed again.

1 Hour Later…

Sub-Level 21, Stargate Command

Milo entered the observation deck above the surgery room, hoping to watch his commanding officer, the one he ridiculed so much, and hopefully make some amends. Upon reaching the actual deck, he found the alien, Teal'c, sitting there. The man turned his head to see the Major walk in and nodded.

"Hello Major Witkowski,"

"What up, Teach." Milo replied, waving his right hand up in acknowledgement.

"Are you here to see Colonel Alexeyeva's recovery?" Teal'c asked, returning his view to the surgery.

"Yeah,"

Milo then sat down next to him.

The two major reasons why Milo refers to Teal'c as Teach sometimes is that one, it's easier for Milo to call Teal'c Teach, and that he didn't want to steal General O'Neill's nickname for Teal'c: T, and the second was that Teal'c taught some useful hand-to-hand combat used by the Jaffa. Needless to say, Milo loved it, and had later on looked up to former Jaffa solider as a teacher.

"If you don't mind my asking," The Major added. "Why are you here?"

"For the same reason as you," Teal'c replied.

Milo chuckled, uneasily of course.

"Yeah, I can verify that," He commented.

"Indeed,"

The two said nothing more.

The Englishman leaned back into his chair and placed his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath before exhaling for an extended period of time. Teal'c only raised an eyebrow at this. Milo then rolled his eyes towards Teal'c but said nothing either. The elephant in the room was rather obvious, but neither of them wanted to discuss it.

But they had to.

"How is Private Williams?" Teal'c asked, breaking the ice.

Milo shrugged, not keeping his eyes off the operating table.

"To be honest Teach," He replied. "I haven't seen her since we got back…but it was quite blatant that she was bloody mad."

Teal'c nodded.

Milo continued onto another subject.

"You know how many times I've insulted that woman on the table?" He asked, pointing his finger at the glass.

Teal'c kept his silence.

"Too many." The Major shook his head. "And to find her here…now I wish that there were some things I could take back, you know."

Teal'c nodded.

The two said nothing more and continued to watch the surgery's progress.

Sub-Level 16, Stargate Command

Ortega clenched his fists when he entered the brig, after the SFs reluctantly allowed him through.

The lighting made the entire cell clear for those on both sides to see the other. What the Sergeant found was the Alliance solider that nearly killed his commander. After his wounds were attended to, the solider was thrown into the cell until further interrogation. The solider kept his back to the cell wall, sleeping, no doubt. Ortega nudged the man's back with his foot and told him to wake up. The Alliance solider stood up and faced the Spaniard.

Neither of the two said a word, only stared at one another.

"How is she?" The man finally asked.

The Spaniard leaned back, crossing his arms, his look grim.

He gave no answer.

"Well?" The Alliance solider asked again, this time, more or less, sincere.

Ortega still hadn't replied.

The solider leaned onto the metal bars and sighed, lowering his head down.

It wasn't until then did Ortega realize that the man couldn't have been more than in his late twenties, early thirties at most. The very thought of the man being no older than the Spaniard himself was provocative.

Then it was his turn to ask.

"What's your name amigo?"

"Calross," The solider replied.

"What were you doing on that planet we were on?"

"Looking for the same thing as you,"

"Where did you hear of this?"

The man shrugged.

"Word gets around,"

Ortega wasn't convinced.

Why was he interrogating the guy anyway? He asked himself this repeatedly as the man behind the bars continued.

"You know how big you Tau'ri are…we just gotta…you know…keep the balance."

At that moment, that impulse, Ortega shoved his foot onto the metal bars.

"This has got nothing to do with Earth!" He retorted. "It's about keeping the peace in the galaxy."

Calross could only laugh.

"That's a cheesy way of putting it," The man replied.

"A hell of a lot better than watching you bastards try and ruin it for others and for what, exactly?"

There was a pause on the Spaniard's part.

"Money? Power? Is any of that worth the suffering everyone else, including our own, has to go through?" He continued.

"What's your point?"

Ortega stopped again and took a deep breath.

"I guess I don't have one," He replied more quietly. "It's not like it's going to make a difference…with it falling on deaf ears and all."

"I don't do it for the money or power," Calross replied. "I only did it so I could have an excuse to explore the galaxy."

Ortega's mouth then dropped.

"What…the…hell!" He yelled. "An excuse?"

Calross crossed his arms and frowned. Both men knew what was no being discussed.

"That woman shot me…it's only fair that she got what was coming to her."

Ortega then reached to grab the collar of the soldier's shirt before pulling him into the metal bars.

The solider grunted on impacted.

"If she lives," Ortega began, tightly gripping the man's collar. "I'm gonna make damn sure she beats your sorry ass."

The solider grunted again, his head pressured against the cold, dead metal bars.

"I'm…" He tried to speak. "Looking forward to it,"

Ortega scoffed.

"Ya won't be saying that when she does," He commented. "And she will…"

With no more words to speak, the Sergeant backed away before turning around and walking away, feeling better.

A smirk on his face.