SIX


STARGATE COMMAND


"It's a personal request. And when a two-star General asks a favour, you take it. Then he owes you. I like those odds, I'm good with those odds."

I could hack the system, find the Gate address myself.

He watched the gears turn in her mind and smiled. "Strict orders, Lt. Colonel. No one, and I stress it. No one was allowed to interfere. No staff observed and no staff entered and exited the gate room."

"General O'Neill is furtive, I admit, but not as furtive as to order military personnel to look away when their leader commandeers the 'Gate. Doesn't it strike you as suspicious, Sir?"

"Didn't say I let him do as he pleased. Accountability and what not."

"I see."

"He's got me concerned, Colonel. He's always got me concerned. I have heartburn tablets at the ready, for just sucha occasion."

"When another two-star General shows up out of the blue and orders, 'for his eyes only', you are right to have those tablets on hand, Sir."

"Thank you." Landry rubbed his brow. "What if I say I know where he went."

She perked up with the news. Her heart fluttered wildly. "It is your base, Sir, and if you feel obligated to protect said General, you have the authority to trust your gut and order a team to 'explore' this particular planet."

"O'Neill did say you were smart, he forgot to mention devious, too."

"General O'Neill has the habit of excluding certain important details, Sir. Fortunately, he has Daniel, Teal'c and myself to fill in those gaps."

"I'm sure he does, Colonel. I'm sure he does." Landry gaged the desk's surface, then looked at Sam again. "Most of my teams are deployed. Most won't be back for another 12 hours, but judging from that look in your eyes, resolve explains your presence here today. A gut feeling of your own, I surmise. Technically speaking, you are not under my jurisdiction, and have requested personal gate travel for yourself, I understand?"

She stiffened at that, cleared her throat and spoke. "That is correct, General."

He waved off her strict military manner. "We're on the same side, Colonel. And for the record, I am being frank about my concerns, too. So, there's no need to convince me to check up on our dear General O'Neill. If your personal request so happens to coincide with the planet of his choosing, who am I to stop you?"

"Of course, Sir. I'll keep that in mind."

"Yes, you will. Find yourself some gear, appropriate for a 'friendly' visit please, and we'll meet each other in the gate room, in let's say, 30 minutes. Enough time, Lt. Colonel?"

"Thank you, General."

"Don't' thank me yet. When you escort the General back here in one piece, I'll be thanking you, Carter. I'll be the one thanking you."

As arranged, they met each other thirty minutes later in the gate room.

Landry handed over a folder to be delivered to the leader of the planet explaining her presence there. It would also grant her access to their latest visitor aka General Jack O'Neill. And in the event O'Neill had given orders of his own, this would supersede his authority by proxy. The last part wasn't exactly true, even so, it was enough to cause them to circumvent his command and allow Carter to speak with him personally. That was if the papers were absolutely necessary. Both agreed she would use it in the event of a last-ditch effort.

"Here's to friendly cooperation, and good luck." General Landry announced.

The Stargate sprung to life, connecting to the attended planet, and Sam walked through. It was so vast, mountainous and lavishly green, it reminded her of Greenland. A far cry from the Nevada Desert. Beautiful and serene, she could imagine why he chose this place specifically, and yet the intention behind the visit to this particular planet remained a mystery.

She walked the cobblestone path until the small city in the valley below halted her progress.

Advanced, check. Spirals, check. Technology hidden, double check. Security, perhaps alerted already, this she knew before stepping through the 'Gate.

She carried on regardless, hoping the right person or being met her before she reached the city's outskirts.

No one did, even after she entered.

The main street was nothing impressive, but the city square amassed a selection of modern-day shops and classic food vendors. They concentrated around what she surmised was earth's equivalent of a capitol building. Busy, like New York's streets. Lively and colourful, like Los Angeles. If they were aware of her, they didn't give it away. To them, she looked like a citizen. A citizen right at home, judging by the scientific getup and intelligent air about them.

A stocky woman approached her position in a hurry, causing Sam to lower her hand to the Zat, but the woman smiled, suggesting it was a friendly inquiry.

"You must be Miss Samantha Carter?"

"Um, yes. Lt. Colonel Carter."

"Oh, forgive me, I now remember your ranks are important to you."

"Sorry, habit."

"No need to apologize, still, I know why you are here and will guide you. Come, you must follow quickly."

The sudden impulse to dart after her, Sam repressed, and shoved the urgency aside, assigning the woman's behaviour to their scientific society and her part therein. She followed, jogging at first to keep up with the woman's quick stride.

"I'm Serena Westfall."

Sam nodded, as she came side-by-side with her. "You said you know why I'm here."

"I did say so, yes. For General O'Neill."

"Yes, that's correct."

The woman said no more, worrying Sam, that something was wrong and that she deliberately kept it from her. Otherwise, why would this Westfall woman seek her out specifically? How else did she know who she was and what she looked like?

"Don't worry, Miss Carter, we'll be there shortly. Zeke will explain."

"Where's General O'Neill?" She demanded.

"With Zeke in the main city spiral."

Again, Westfall kept information to herself, infuriating Sam, but not enough to halt their movement. She figured the answers would come more fluently and more directly when she met with this Zeke character. Then she would adjust her strategy once she knew about O'Neill's dealings here and his whereabouts. She shouldn't be hasty, but not comfortable either.

As promised, the women entered what looked like a monitoring station. Screens displayed various settings, with O'Neill being the centre of attention, but as the supervisor noticed her unannounced entrance, he quickly snuffed the feeds. It made Sam even more suspicious of their furtive nature, then interpreted it as them respecting the General's privacy. If it were anyone else, they would've done the same thing.

"What great fortune for you to have arrived when you did."

Sam scowled at the uncanny statement.

Zeke, a tall brawny figure, reached a hand for her to shake. She merely nodded. Her gaze then raked that of the supervisor's flattering face, and saw no threat.

"I am Dejon, the supervisor of what you currently see. Or lack thereof. Discretion is our profession, you must understand."

"I see." She walked for the supervisor and offered a hand. He took it in both hands and smiled charmingly. "Where is General O'Neill? May I see him?"

"Of course." Zeke offered before leading her to a suite adjoining the monitoring room.

Inside, the General sat comfortably upon a recliner, with eyes closed and brow furrowed. Sam moved over to him, touched a hand to his and got no response. She winced, not understanding what he wanted from these people.

"Is he awake?"

"He is in a deep meditative state." Westfall answered.

"What services do you provide?"

"Currently, he is undergoing six trials."

Sam gazed to Dejon. "Trials, as in tests? Or trials, as in judge and jury of your peers?"

"It is a combination of both. O'Neill is the judge and we are the observers. Parameters are given before the subject enters the trial."

"Is it normal to conduct six simultaneously?"

"We don't advise so many at once, but it is within the programme's range and safety measures are in place. We followed your General's parameters, yes, within margin of our own."

"He asked for it. Why?" Sam pondered under her breath, then addressed Zeke, whom she'd gathered operated the technology. "Serena knew me, so I presume I'm part of this . . . trial? And deducing from your reaction, it is no coincidence I'm here. You've hit a snag."

"Your General has."

Indeed he was her General, but it was starting to grate.

"Furthermore, you can't extract him."

"We can. If we do, information gained within the trials are obsolete. It then defeats the purpose of having endured them in the first place."

"He loses answers. And?"

"Ideas, emotions and thoughts he's processed within the trials."

Dejon explained further. "The technology is designed for studying purposes, in order to gage various outcomes to help a defendant's or prosecutor's case. It was also furthered to help study our culture's minds and actions. It is purely to experiment and to see the farthest reaches of a person's intellect. However, as observers, we cannot interfere."

"What you see is what you get."

"Precisely."

"General O'Neill understood this?"

"He did."

"And he went in willingly?"

"He insisted."

"He's stuck?"

"Subject one has reached the cusp of the programming, further than any of the other subjects."

"So he's stuck."

"In a manner of speaking."

Still, she needed to understand what possessed the General to subject himself to such an extensive experimentation. Intent and motive and purpose still eluded her. And all she kept thinking was . . . is she to blame for his sudden trip here?

Her eyes glimpsed the General once more.

His face showed deep contemplation, but not the kind she was used to, when he normally drifted off during her scientific babble. No, this was intense focus and careful consideration. A man on a mission to find answers, because he somehow lacked understanding. And what he lacked was his usual casual demeanour and sarcastic provocations and joy.

Guilt filled her heart, weakening her motive for coming after him. And yet her need to rescue him hit automatic. Lt. Colonel Carter's veneer slipped into place and she addressed the group with authority in her voice.

"I need to know what the parameters are before you send me in."

Westfall watched the men discuss the matter between themselves before she offered Sam a place to put her gear and jacket. They exchanged a glance of appreciation each, when Zeke approached them.

"As the General's parameters are already in place, we will programme it so that you will not be subject to his analysis or his judgment. Subject one will be your partner."

"Excuse me?" How dared he assume they were more than just soldiers.

"From observation, Samantha, you are the subject of O'Neill's examination." Dejon disclosed. "You are his partner in all the settings."

"What?"

"He came here for you." Westfall simply put it.

She glanced between them, knowing it had been a private matter for the General, but she hadn't realized how private. Now she felt excluded, an intruder about to enter his subconscious mind, to do what exactly? To help him understand why? Persuade him?

He was required to reach the verdict himself. Now she would step in and would possibly cast aside everything he'd worked hard to achieve within the trials. She was a fly. An irritation. A wheel in the spoke of his deliberation. How could she rescue him after this?

"Ah, those eyes of yours, Samantha, they reveal O'Neill's own state-of-mind. Doubt, confusion."

"Not for the reasons you may think." Zeke quickly explained, wishing his supervisor hadn't sowed more uncertainty. "He has reached a conclusion. He simply needs you to complete it on his behalf."

Now she was confused.

"What these fine gentlemen are trying to say, Miss Carter, is that a person can only analyse as much as the information allows them. In order for him to break through, a certain delicate nudge is required. A missing piece to complete the puzzle."

"He lacks data, is what you're saying. And if he has reached the limit of his analysis, only someone like me, for example, can help him finish it."

All watched in anticipation, knowing they couldn't force her to cooperate, because, ultimately, the decision resided with her. Which meant, O'Neill's solution now relied upon someone who still had reservations about her place in his life.