Another Place

Katianna

"Yesterday, something special happened. And well I had a script to read you, but it wasn't that good, so I decided I was going to tell you about this thing that happened. And here I am, with no script, no plan. Nadda. And I have no idea what I'm doing. OK? So I'll get on with it.

"Three months ago, my second in command fell ill with a virus of unknown origins. Once it was determined that it wasn't contagious my second in command, assuring me it wouldn't affect her performance in any way, continued with her duties. A week after this virus was discovered in my second in command, the bases doctor told my second in command that she had barely three weeks to live." There were gasps of sympathy from in the crowd and the Colonel nodded his thanks. "As you might expect, my team and I were devastated, and so was just about anyone who knew her at all. My second in command was simply annoyed. It would be four weeks before the engineers could ship out the part she needed for her motorbike. She wasn't going to be around to see it finally run. And she had just finished planning a lecture she had been asked to give at the academy, something she had enjoyed in the past and was looking forward to. The lecture wasn't scheduled until the next month. She would miss that too.

"Spending many hours consulting with her doctors, she found that for the fist two weeks, as long as she remained under strict medication, she could continue on missions as normal. The second week, she was warned, would be difficult and painful, but she was decided. She would work as long as she could in the job that she enjoyed and had always been perfect at. Being my second in command.

"Those two weeks were some of the best my team have ever spent together. Those were the weeks I will remember forever, not because anything particularly exciting or interesting happened. I know for a fact that our CO picked those missions for us because he knew they would be uneventful, for her sake. But in those two weeks I learned more about the woman I had served with than - in truth - I had ever wanted to know. We talked about all kinds of meaningless things in those two weeks. And when we reached the second week and it was becoming increasingly more obvious that she was finding it difficult to walk or to make grand gestures with her arms as she was prone to doing without thinking; we talked about death and the things she would miss about this world and the things she looked forward to in the next.

"When on the last day of her permitted duty she tripped and fell and was unable to get back up, my second in command cried. Not tears of pain or fear of what was to come. But tears of shame for letting us down.

"My second in command refused to go into hospital for that last week, and she didn't go home to see her family and say her last goodbyes - or at least have family come and visit her, because she really wasn't in any fit state to travel. My second in command sat in her lab and finished a book she had wanted to write since she first had the knowledge to write it. Something to allow others to have that knowledge and use it as they saw fit.

"When on that last day I gasping for breath on her lab floor, I couldn't help but worry about what was to come. Was I strong enough to do my second in command justice? To carry on without her? She was in a coma when we reached the infirmary and even though her breathing was easier we were told that she didn't have much time.

"But this story does not have a sad ending." A ripple of confusion flooded the crowd momentarily until they were hushed into silence again by those waiting for the rest of the story.

"Yesterday morning, almost two months since that day, my second in command woke from that coma to face the new day. Last night she spoke her first words, predictably apologising for something she couldn't control. And today she gripped my hand in her own.

"Major Samantha Carter will never walk again, or so her doctor tells us. The damage done by the virus is considerable. But Sam Carter did not die two months ago and so hope still lives.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. There is no moral to this story. No inner hidden meaning. Something special happened to me yesterday and I just had to share it with you. Thank you." And with that, Colonel Jack O'Neill stepped down from the podium to a huge applause. He smiled at Daniel as he walked away.

"You know she's going to kill you for that." He muttered as they headed to the car.

"She'll have to catch me first." He muttered back.

"Most of those people out there don't have a clue who she is."

"Then she won't be quite as annoyed about me telling them her story."

"You sure?"

"I'm really hoping, Daniel. Otherwise I'm in real trouble."

"So what next?"

"I suppose we see what people think."

"Are you going to tell Sam what you just did?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll wait until she's at least out of bed. Give her a sporting chance." Daniel grinned at him over the bonnet of the car.

"What are we going to do next, Jack? Without Sam on SG1?"

"Well, I guess we wait and see. What do you say?"

"Sam's so going to kill you."

"Yeah, I got that."

It has been said that death is not the end, merely the beginning. There was no death today, so think of this as your prologue. The beginning is yet to come, but the middle may come sooner. And always remember two things. Sorry is the tall men who plays hide and seek in a field and feeding an author can quite often give better fic.

To Be Continued

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the author.