Sam knocked on the office door that she was so used to simply entering. Doing her best to plaster on a genuine smile, she greeted the man working at Daniel's desk. "How's it coming, Captain?"
MacArthur seemed to take a moment to focus on her. He blinked owlishly several times before shaking his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Major, but we still don't have much."
Sam nodded and the pseudo-smile went away. "It's okay." She assured MacArthur. "I know you're trying."
"How's Dr. Jackson?"
Sam took a deep breath. "Still the same."
MacArthur nodded before staring down at his work, and Sam reflected on how different this would be if it were Daniel sitting there instead of this young and enthusiastic air force Captain James MacArthur. It was an awkward moment, but still, Sam stayed.
"What are you working on now?" she asked.
The Captain's head popped back up and he spun the parchment around in case she wanted to look. "This is from the center pillar." He answered. "All four sides."
"Do you know what it says?" Sam questioned, staring at the charcoal impressions.
"No." MacArthur replied. "The best I can figure, it's... well, it's part of a poem... of sorts." He pointed to four distinct groupings. "Each side contained one line of the poem, but we can't quite get a handle on what it says."
"No one knows the language?" Sam was running through her own catalogue of memories, having seen quite a bit of Daniel's work. "It looks familiar."
"No, ma'am." The Captain sat back and fidgeted with a pencil. "It's some form of Ancient, but Dr. Jackson's the only one who can read it. He's probably the only one who could complete this part of the translation with this variation... at least the only one on this planet."
Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe someone from another planet..."
"One of our allies, you mean?"
"Yeah." Sam began backing toward the door. "Thank you, Captain."