SPOILERS : From Season 7 onward
Routine. A word Carter had learned to fear. If just one more routine, just one more nothing can go wrong, just one more insert mundane task didn't blow up in her face... And dammit if it ever took three attempts to dial home again...
She watched her team run through the gate. The DHD provided her just enough cover -- Zat in one hand, P-90 in the other, she didn't dare look but just let loose electrical mayhem and sprayed round after round before making a run for it herself.
Thirty yards... twenty... fifteen... ten... five... her mind calculated the distance even as she continued firing... two yards and dive... she saw the small rock as her foot landed... screamed as the searing pain tore at her ankle... cursed her luck in that fraction of a second between awareness and black dread as Zat-fire struck the ground beneath her... praying to the Gods of physics that she had enough momentum to...
She hit the ramp hard, rolling, tumbling out of control. Yet even through the pain and confusion she saw the gate shut down as she struggled to resist hands grabbing at her roughly, dragging her away. She saw her team huddled in a corner surrounded by airmen; she heard Hammond's voice barking out orders as the gate began dialing out.
Closer, behind her, a female voice swore.
"Shit, if it isn't her again making a mess of..."
"Captain!"
Carter winced at the verbal slap in the face. She tried turning towards the familiar voices, but an airman blocked her.
"Sorry, Major," he apologized, "Orders."
"Move out!" Carter heard. Before she blacked out curiosity still managed to get the better of her. She made herself relax, sought a reflecting surface and watched the strange group pass through the gate. Immediately she knew she didn't like what -- and who -- she saw; then the darkness came and she didn't care.
Nor did she care for the interrogation when she woke.
She opened her eyes slowly; she knew from the way her head pounded that she'd been sedated. And when she tried to move... she had to wonder if the restraints were really necessary. General Hammond stood at ease, waiting patiently with Janet hovering awkwardly behind him.
"Leave the room, Doctor," Hammond said quietly.
"But, Sir..."
"Now, Doctor, that's an order. And close the door behind you."
"Yes, Sir. But if..."
"You don't have to remind me, Doctor." He waited for the door to close but still stood, waiting, thinking. "Dammit, Major," he said finally, "you have no idea how much damage you may have caused coming back when you did." He paused. "The situation you've put yourself in..."
"Sir, my team..."
"Yes, Major, I know. Three attempts to dial home. We covered that in your mission debriefing. This time we're talking about something altogether different."
"Sir? I don't understand."
"And you won't if you keep talking," Hammond stated. "I'm fighting to save your sorry hide, Major."
Carter paled at the anger in his voice. The friendly General she thought she knew had gone; now she was looking at a hardened commanding officer.
"When you speak you will answer my questions, and only my questions. You will be concise. You will offer no questions, no guesses, no thoughts or opinions. You will restrict yourself to answering exactly." Hammond paused. "Do you understand, Major?"
"Sir. Yes, Sir." It was all she could do to keep the pain out of her voice -- and the straps kept her from saluting.
"Good." Hammond nodded. "How's the condition of your ankle, Major?"
For a moment Carter thought he'd nodded because of her response, but then she saw a nurse, standing quietly out of the way, prepare a hypo. Her first instinct was to reject the question and offer an opinion, but she stopped herself and hesitantly tested her foot. Still, she bit her lip at the pain. A dozen questions popped into her head. Uppermost was why Hammond would ask if he knew it was bad. Carter took a deep breath and found a spot on the ceiling to stare at. "Not good, Sir," she said as steadily as she could.
"When you last returned through the stargate, outside of your team and the airmen on duty, how many other officers did you see?"
Carter played the scene over again in her mind. She'd been disoriented but she'd seen... "Two, Sir."
"How many officers did you hear?"
This was trickier. She'd not thought of counting how many she'd heard. There were two voices... But she didn't know if he was still an officer, so should she count him? Specifically, she only knew for certain that one of the voices was an officer; the status of the other was open to interpretation. Carter tried to calm herself before she spoke. "One, Sir."
"How many people went through the gate, Major?"
She knew the answer to that was a no-brainer. But... what answer did Hammond want? Dammit, she knew by the questions that he was giving her subtle clues. She also knew the nurse -- and she was Pentagon -- not SGC. But did Hammond know that she'd recognize her? At least, Carter knew, if the worst came to the worst, there were only so many times she could get the answer wrong. "Three, Sir," she said... and knew immediately by the way the nurse sighed that she'd got it wrong.
Hammond looked grim as he nodded. "Don't make it any harder on yourself, Major." He took a step back as the nurse approached. Carter winced as the needle bit her arm, not liking at all the nurse's smile; and she was completely unprepared for her fist smacking into her jaw. But Carter found the spot on the ceiling and again stared resolutely as darkness began to descend. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hammond shake his head.
Nor did she care for the interrogation when she woke.
She opened her eyes slowly; she knew from the way her head pounded that she'd been sedated.
Hammond waited for the door to close but still stood, waiting, thinking. "Dammit, Major," he said finally, "you have no idea how much damage you may have caused coming back when you did." He paused. "The situation you've put yourself in..."
"Sir, my team..."
"Yes, Major, I know. Three attempts to dial home. We covered that in your mission debriefing. This time we're talking about something altogether different."
"Sir? I don't understand."
"And you won't if you keep talking," Hammond stated. "I'm fighting to save your sorry hide, Major."
Carter paled at the anger in his voice...
