CHAPTER FIVE
"You're late, Daniel." Jack looked askance at the young anthropologist, who struggled with his fully loaded back pack while pressing tissue over his nose. He was out of breath after having just sprinted to the gate room in record time.
"Sorry Jack, it's my allergies. It's been playing up again lately, probably with all the gate travel we've been doing ..."
"Yeah, yeah, I get the idea." Sam came over to help Daniel with his gear as the seventh chevron locked and the swirling mass of naquadah from the gate plunged forth.
"Okay people, let's get to work." Jack shouted into the general direction of his team behind him as base personnel scurried to get out of the embarkation room. Daniel, now pressing a different tissue to his itching nose, bravely sallied forth, accompanied by Teal'c at his side. They disappeared into the watery element.
Sam walked up to the event horizon, seized again at the wonder that was the Stargate. No matter how many missions she had already been on, or how many missions she would go on in the future, she would always be struck down and humbled by this piece of amazing technology, a legacy of a race far superior to their own. Sam, brilliant astrophysicist that she was, had no qualms admitting that she stood in awe of the technology and knowledge that had been needed to construct such an intricate gate way to the stars. Who were these beings, the Ancients, to have built then deserted such a system, a testament to their almost infinite wisdom and superiority? Sam's mind, which constantly strove to provide definitive answers for herself and for others, settled on merely being able to go through this experience time and time again; content to marvel from afar.
But it seemed that now she noticed this more than usual. Today the magic, the unknowable and infinitely complex phenomenon that was the Stargate seemed to rush at her with renewed force, just as it had struck her the first time she had been allowed to go through it.
She looked over to Jack, whose expression had quickly gone from exasperation to amusement. Perhaps it was because her life had undergone such a radical shift in the past couple of days that made her reassess and reappreciate the cornerstones of her life.
Jack's expression quickly returned to one of exasperation, though his mouth curled into playful grin, looking for the all the world as if he was going to push her forcibly into the Stargate just as he had done when they'd first gone through the gate together. She had been in such awe and wonderment of the Stargate and what it represented that it was actually lucky that he pushed her in - she felt sure that, left to her own devices, she would probably have stood there for the entire day, her analytical mind working in hyper-drive trying to make some sense of the shimmering phenomenon presented before her now.
Her gaze returned to her commanding officer standing beside her, his battle-lined face brightened by the enthusiasm in his hazel eyes. Was that there before, Sam wondered. This enthusiasm, energy for life, that brought a spring to his step and a soft, open smile in place of his old, bittersweet one. Had there always been that twinkle in his eye, the one that made his soul look 20 years younger?
Sam felt a moment of weakness sweeping down her body that nearly made her knees buckle from under her. It had just hit her ... with such force that it had nearly felled her like a ton of bricks ... that this feeling between them was *real*. Not some pre-pubescent crush or adolescent infatuation, nor the first true love of youth. This feeling ... this comfortableness between them ... a feeling born out of true companionship ... it felt *wonderful*. Wonderful because it was with a real man, one who had not shied away from revealing the entirety of his feelings when it counted, one who had at last brushed aside military regulations and insecurities and a fear of rejection to become her knight in shining armour ... or in this specific case, her knight with a baseball cap that he liked to wear backwards whenever the UV readings showed that the sun wasn't likely to burn the nose off his face.
Jack O'Neill ... and he was all hers, body and soul handed over to her for safe keeping. Was she up to it? His was a wounded soul, more breakable and fragile than hers could ever be. Was she up to the responsibility?
Jack interrupted her reverie. "Hey! Earth to Sam! Or P2C 267 to Sam in another couple of seconds, if I have to push you in ... *again*."
"Okay okay, I'm going! Geez, you're pushier than Dad."
"And how *is* Dad, by the way?" He gave her a cocky grin and tipped his cap back wards. Sam smiled enigmatically at his gesture and walked into the watery substance, her body fast disappearing from view.
* * *
"Unscheduled off-world activation! I repeat, unscheduled off-world activation! This is not a drill. All available personnel report to the embarkation room." The technical sergeant's voice rang loud and clear throughout the largely silent facility. It was around midnight, and most people on the base had already retired for the night leaving a skeleton crew on duty.
General Hammond burst into the hallway, impeccably dressed as usual. He had been in his office reviewing several mission reports when the warning had boomed through the speakers. Another high-ranking officer joined him in his purposeful march toward the control room as the flurry of activity escalated around them.
"What is it Sergeant?" The General asked calmly, his voice clear and authoritative. Although young and relatively inexperienced, the technical sergeant on duty gave his report in a concise manner.
"Uh, General, there're no SG teams due back for another 48 hours. We haven't received a transmission code yet, Sir."
General Hammond peered down into the embarkation room, where scores of battle ready airmen already stood to engage in hostile fire if necessary.
"How many teams are currently off-world?"
The Sergeant referred back to the computer screen. "Sir, only SG-1 and SG-3 are currently off-world. SG-1 went out approximately one day ago and SG-3 ... about 5 hours ago."
"Right." The fifth chevron activated on the Stargate below them as General Hammond frowned in consternation. "Have we received a code yet?"
The Sergeant once more looked at the monitor before him. "No Sir."
The sixth chevron activated.
"Wait Sir - I'm getting a transmission ..." he paused as the computer took a microsecond to verify the source. "It's SG-1 Sir."
Of course it was. "Open the iris ... And get a medical team down there." Both the technical sergeant and a nearby airman nodded in compliance.
"Yes Sir."
"Right away Sir."
As the Sergeant made the request for a medical team, General Hammond waited with bated breath, hoping against hope that once again, SG-1 would return safely. He sighed inwardly, frustrated at the oppressive safety of the mountain. He really disliked the feeling that it gave to him, to have to wait inside the SGC while he sent others off to dangerous missions. He particularly loathed the feeling since he would be unable to do anything about it if anything went wrong. As the base commander, he would have to deploy others to help those in need.
Well, most of the time. Despite the worry that now tempered his thoughts as he stood awaiting the fate of SG-1, he remembered embarking on a near-suicidal mission to Hathor's lair with only Teal'c to accompany him. Disregarding orders, hopping onto that death glider ... That had been one hell of a ride.
The General's attention was snapped back to reality as the seventh chevron activated to create the artificial wormhole below. It seemed as if time stood still as those in the control room collectively waited for signs of life to emerge from the Stargate's watery depths.
Dr. Jackson tumbled head-first onto the steel ramp and rolled unconsciously towards the waiting medical team, creating a crimson trail behind him. That was a bad sign.
Teal'c emerged next, his normally calm exterior replaced with one of tiredness and exhaustion. He was covered with a mixture of mud, grass and blood as he literally stumbled onto the ramp and collapsed, no longer able to stand. General Hammond could not contain his worry at Teal'c's condition. Teal'c was the strongest member of the team, and for him to have been reduced to this ...
He left the rest unsaid, even in his own mind. He hurried down the spiral staircase towards the gate itself. Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter were still missing.
"Teal'c are you all right?"
"I am ... fine General Hammond." Teal'c stated, his reply tainted with uncharacteristic breathlessness. The tall jaffa's eyes darted around the room, taking in the confusion, the rush of medical personnel, and the still form of his friend Daniel below him.
"Teal'c ... Where are Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter?"
He did not have a chance to reply. Just as the words were out of his mouth, Colonel O'Neill appeared before the event horizon, literally bursting forth with the limp form of his comrade, Major Carter, drawing air into his lungs as if he'd been underwater. The Colonel's face was contorted with a disturbing mixture of anxiety, relief and well-known pain. Somewhere along the way his cap must have flown off, revealing hair that was matted with mud and dust. A blow was evident from the large area of dried blood on his forehead, a deep, crusty hue that was strikingly juxtaposed with the paleness of his face.
He did not speak - he had no energy to. But everyone standing in the room with him got the message that he was trying to convey ... help Sam.
The General's eyes travelled as everyone else's did. First, to the over-exhausted Colonel who was veering unsteadily on his feet. Him looking around, his eyes speaking volumes of unstated relief at finding himself back at the SGC. Then stumbling to his knees, dragging a comatose Major Carter behind him, just as the Stargate disengaged behind her. He maintained his death-like grip on her arm even as he succumbed to his exhaustion and collapsed face down onto the hard steel of the ramp below.
The Colonel's grip was so tight that it took two nearby airman to pry his fingers off the Major. Dr. Fraiser, who had been paged off-base, scooted over to the Major's prone body and took in the scene before her in a glance.
General Hammond felt ill as he watched helplessly. While SG-1 had faced many times before, there had never been so much *blood*. It'd always seemed that SG-1 were immortal, because they never bled. They've died, they've disappeared, hell they've even gone crazy, but ... they've never bled. Now ... they're bleeding, and there's so much blood ... and suddenly they were mortal again.
His military professionalism quickly reasserted itself. "All right. Get them to the infirmary. Dr. Fraiser, report their conditions to me after you've treated them all, and Teal'c -" the General looked over at Teal'c, anticipating his protests, "that includes you."
He watched as the last of the medical team carted the limp form of Colonel O'Neill on a stretcher, Major Carter and Dr. Jackson having already been transferred. Giving one last worried look to Teal'c, he slowly climbed the stairs to the control room.
He straightened his shoulders upon reaching the door to his office. Someone had to tell the President.
(c) Copyright Vivian Ngan January 2001