Author's note: Revised 10.02.04
CHAPTER THREE: PLAYING THE COLONEL
Jack heard the distinctive thunk sound of someone falling heavily into a chair.
He looked up from his computer console in time to see Lieutenant Adams quickly draw himself up from the ungainly sprawl he had dropped into, to a more appropriately ramrod military stance.
Ah, the flexibility of the young, Jack thought.
He covertly studied the Lieutenant as he waited impatiently for his computer to finish logging him in.
Adams' hair had been reduced to a cornfield like stubble, courtesy, presumably of his recent incarceration at officer training school. But the style actually suited him, making his cheekbones appear more prominent, and complementing his brown, slightly bewildered-looking eyes. He was tall and lean, perfectly filling out his class B uniform. It was only the nose that jarred, Jack decided, its protuberance giving his face a slightly arrogant air.
But the real issue, Jack reflected, was simply his age. How could someone so terribly young looking be old enough to be in charge, however temporarily, of such an important facility as NORAD's Space Control Center? He couldn't help but consider the contrast - his own graying hair (no matter that he defiantly refused to disguise it), his creaking knees, and his increasingly timeworn face.
Still, at least this old guy has the advantage of the superior knowledge that comes with experience, rank, and membership of the secret little club that know about the Stargate, he comforted himself. He looked down again at his computer screen.
Abruptly, Jack snapped out of his reflections. The world around him dissolved, as if in a burst of light.
His eyes bulged, as if they had been ripped out of his control.
His body froze, as time seemed to grind to a halt.
His vision filled suddenly with the pattern of a star field, a view both familiar and clear - the clarity that came only from being free of Earth's atmosphere, in orbit. It was the view of a pyramid-topped spacecraft flying in front of him, though, that filled his mind.
He could see, now, that a ramp was hanging open from the base of the pyramid structure. Two figures danced on it, each clearly struggling to push the other out, while trying to remain attached to safety themselves.
Slowly, the picture dissolved, and was replaced with a figure recognizable as himself, sitting on the ramp, as the other body, suitless, tumbled away into space. A bubble suddenly protruded from his mouth, snarling: "Get off my ship."
Jack watched as the screensaver on his computer screen slowly dissolved, and restarted its sequence.
As the little movie had played out, Jack had felt himself catapulted from fear to fury - for just a second there, he had thought he was watching a real time camera image.
But he ended up at laughter, unable to help the release of an adrenaline- jagged burst, at this rework of one of the corniest moments of an otherwise enjoyable film.
The laughter let out the tension that had been holding him, allowing him to release the chair from the feral grip of his hand.
The grayness that had rushed in and filled him, dissolving his sense of time and place, started flowing back into the concrete walls. The walls resumed their watching stance once more.
Jack had actually watched the rerun of Air Force One last week with his team. As always, he had secretly enjoyed Sam's dour commentary, both for its biting content, and for the sonorous sound of her voice. This time, her rant had centered on the proper operation of the laws of physics, as the President (Harrison Ford) struggled on the parachute deck of his plane with a Kazachk terrorist, apparently immune to the vortex of wind and speed generated by the plane, and mouthed the infamous words, "Get off my plane."
They had taken to trying out its permutations all over the base, with Teal'c's "Get off my jello" the firm winner so far. He assumed their little game had been the inspiration for this particular piece of folly. As these pleasant memories trickled to a stop, Jack felt his anger - both at the fear the screensaver had momentarily engendered, as well as the security breach - rise up again. All the hard work to maintain the secret of the Stargate, all the sacrifices. He diverted his thoughts away from these well-worn paths. Still, he thought, Ferretti at least should have known better.
Now, he understood why Ferretti had been so anxious earlier, and so quick to leave. Jack sighed inwardly as his innate sense of humor reasserted itself. So much for giving one of his friends a night off. Ferretti knew him well enough to know that if it had been played out right - putting the screensaver on the Jack's own computer for example, rather than NORAD's - he would have enjoyed the joke with everyone else. But surely he knew Jack really couldn't let a breach of security like this go.
Well, Jack supposed, it was better to have caught this one now, rather than discovering that the little package had migrated to half of NORAD's computers, or beyond.
At least, he hoped he had caught it in time.
Jack leaned sideways to see if Ferretti had actually managed to make his escape complete. Unfortunately for Ferretti, the guard - no doubt bored out of his brain and desperate for a diversion - had evidently delayed him, and was only now holding out the book for him to sign out. Jack walked back to the doorway, and leaned, slouching casually across it.
"Um, Major, just a minute more, if you would," Jack said in his best 'innocence is mine' voice, and beckoned at him. "I seem to have a little problem with my computer that I think you can help me with."
Ferretti winced, and looked worried.
As well he might, thought Jack.
He watched as Ferretti walked r e l u c t a n t l y back over to the console.
"Someone been watching Air Force One a few times too often?" Jack asked. "I think perhaps a more standard screensaver might be more ...appropriate to our current location. If you would kindly remove it...," he continued dryly.
"Yes, Sir, Sorry Sir," Ferretti replied formally, looking a bit sheepish.
Jack waved Ferretti back towards the seat. As he did so, he noticed, too late, that while he had crossed the room, the other Lieutenant - Jones from his nametag - had drifted over from his equipment to peer at Jack's station, presumably investigating the reason for Jack's burst of laughter. He was now standing giggling at the little movie's finale. Even without the full context, it seemed that the screensaver was already gathering fans.
As he moved back towards the workstation, he saw that Lieutenant Adams had also joined the party, trailing him at a distance as he captured Ferretti, and returning with him to the console. The little crowd gathered around the screen, ready to watch the screensaver as it once again dissolved and repeated its sequence.
Jack considered ordering the gaggle of rubberneckers away, but the harm was clearly already done, and making a fuss would only make it worse. And it's not as if either of them could recognize a Goa'uld mothership, he thought. Jones finally stopped grinning in the face of Jack's glare. But he was apparently not sufficiently intimidated, because although he hurried away, he went not to his own desk, but to the Sergeant's.
Judging from the glances and whispers, he was urging him, too, to take a look while he still could. The more experienced Sergeant, after studying Jack carefully, wisely chose to decline the invitation. Lieutenant Adams, by contrast, was still standing, grim-faced and visibly twitching, next to the terminal. Clearly not a Harrison Ford fan.
As the sequence ran once again, the Lieutenant moved closer, filling the gap vacated by Jones. It obviously didn't help him to see it again, because his pallor visibly increased, and he looked as if he were about to faint, or perhaps flee.
OK, so maybe he could recognize a Goa'uld ship, Jack thought.
Then quickly dismissed the idea. Nah, that can't be it, he thought. He's just worried about his ass.
Let's face it, you didn't need to be able to recognize what you were seeing on the screen to see that a breach of NORAD's IT security protocols had occurred. And he is nominally in charge, Jack realized. A security breach like this was something that the officer of the watch - whether a newbie or not - should have caught.
And should now be dealing with. Except of course, that that might be a little difficult with a senior officer like himself standing in the way. Jack decided to take pity on him. At least a bit. Even if he didn't like Harrison Ford.
"So just whose brilliant work was this?" Jack asked Ferretti. "And don't say you did it all, because I know that you couldn't have."
"I'm wounded that you could so underrate me," Ferretti replied, grinning quickly, clearly recovered somewhat from his initial chagrin.
"But as it happens, Santa had a number of helpers this week," he replied. "Just a bit of harmless fun to help get through the watch."
"I see," said Jack, still glaring ominously.
He turned to Lieutenant Adams. "Don't worry Lieutenant. Major Ferretti here is going to take full responsibility for both creating and then concealing the use of unauthorized software."
"And he will ensure all the relevant reports are completed before the shift is over," he went on. "In fact, I can personally guarantee that it will take him at least four continuous shifts before he leaves the Mountain. I mean, it will take at least that long for him to personally verify that there is no unauthorized software on any computer in NORAD."
Jack turned the full force of his glare on Ferretti. The Major said nothing, but nodded his head acceptance of the rebuke and punishment.
The Lieutenant did not look notably reassured. Gazing at him, Jack had to pull himself away from the oddly mesmerizing expression in his now hard, piercing eyes. Jack quickly turned back to watch Ferretti's progress.
"No, don't delete it Ferretti," he almost yelled, his hand snaking out to grab Ferretti's, before the Major could hit the delete button.
"Someone is going to have to check that you idiots haven't managed to corrupt NORAD's systems, and if you have, work out how. Copy it onto a disk first," he finished.
Besides, Jack thought. Now that he had recovered from his initial shock, he really did want a copy of it for himself. And it really did deserve to be shared. Maybe the General would like to put it on his own computer?
"Yes, Sir," Ferretti said, clearly able to follow Jack's train of thought without too much difficulty. He made a copy of the program, then finished deleting it from the terminal and logged out once again. But then he made the fatal mistake of looking at Jack just a little too smugly, as he handed him the disk.
"Thank you, Lou," he said, in his softest, most nauseatingly nice voice. "Once you've finished with the paperwork, you can gather up Santa's helpers, and report yourselves to the General. I'm sure he'll be pleased to find you and your friends some additional tasks to help you find your shifts more entertaining in future, since you seem to be finding it so hard to keep your minds on the job," Jack said, his voice hardening as he reverted to superior officer mode. "That is, if you still have a job."
Jack suppressed his laughter at Ferretti's groan at this reminder of the need for confession to the General. He trusted that the General would come up with a suitably creative - but not too harsh - punishment for the other offenders. Polishing the gate ramp with toothbrushes perhaps?
"Off you go then" he said, pointing Ferretti to the door. "You can fill out the forms downstairs, while I inform Ops Center that you'll be doing a little security check on their computers later on."
A rustle of fabric made him realize that Lieutenant Adams was still standing, as if locked in place, behind him. He had lost his air of military slickness, and instead looked bemused, as if uncertain about what to say or do, after having what was probably his first command so completely usurped.
"Don't worry Lieutenant, no need to panic," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "It was only a minor violation of policy - it's pretty unlikely that they did any real damage."
"Besides, it really should have been caught long before you came on duty, if they've been working on it for several shifts," he said.
"Yes sir" the Lieutenant replied rather woodenly, and started to walk back to his own workstation.
Never mind, Jack thought, he'll get over it. He started making the phone calls necessary to clean up the mess.
Finally able to settle down to work again, Jack gritted his teeth while computer took seemingly forever to go through the tiresome login sequence yet again. Grimacing, he realized he should run a virus scan on his terminal, delaying once more his plans to work on his own pet project. Not that he expected to find anything wrong with the computer, given the skill levels of the SGC personnel involved.
Still, he thought, a stitch in time. He was never going to get down to test out his idea.
The thought was barely completed when the audible alarm on his computer went off; it's beeping quickly echoed by the central console. Drawing his focus together, Jack started interrogating his computer. As the data started spooling onto his screen, the words collision alert continued to flash in the background. This time, he thought, something really is out of place in the cosmos.