- - -
"You stay here. I'm going to make a quick sweep. Be back in 10 or 15."
"Right. Staying here," she agreed without opening her eyes and with the edges of her mouth turning up just a smidge.
He gave her arm one final squeeze and then moved off to check the area.
- - -
- - -
Ch 55: RANKING
- - -
They had agreed to two days off before resuming their experiments with the 'Gate.
Jack scanned over Sam's summary notes of their 'Gate experiments. The acronyms and shorthand notations made his head hurt..., but one thing definitely stood out. They were making clear and substantial progress.
---------------------------------------------
Day 1; 43rd Day On Planet (DOP), (50th EarthDayOnPlanet ED), week (WK) 8
- - - First tested hourglass etching. Gate powered-up (GPU) when I touched it
- - - Inner ring moving (IRM) Orange-white event horizon (OWEH)
Days 2-10; through the end of WK 9 - - - resting
Day 11; 53th DOP (61ED); beginning of WK 10; GPU, IRM, OWEH
- - - Session 1 for roughly 30 sec; Sess. 2 for 2 min.; Sess 3 for 3 min; Sess. 4 for 4 min.
Days 12-15; 54-57 DOP, (62-66ED); WK 10 - - - resting; Jack heals my bruises
Day 16; 58th DOP (67ED); WK 10; GPU, IRM, OWEH
- - - Sess. 1 for 5 min; Sess. 2 for 5 min; Sess. 3 for 6 min; Sess. 4 for 6 min.
Day 17; 59th DOP (68.8ED), WK 10 - - - camp chores and recuperating (CCR)
Day 18; 60st DOP (70ED), end of WK 10; GPU, IRM, OWEH
- - - Sess. 1 for 6 min; Sess. 2 for 6 min; Sess. 3 for 7 min; Sess. 4 for 7 min 36 sec.- Session 4 ends on its own.
Day 19-20; 61nd and 62rd DOP (71-72ED); WK 11 - - - CCR
Day 21; 63th DOP (73ED); WK 11; GPU, IRM, OWEH
- - - Sess. 1-4 for 7 min 36 sec each.
- - - Determined the time limit for maintaining this type of wormhole.
- - - 20 percent of 38 minute 'normal' wormhole time limit
Day 22-23; 64th and 65th DOP (74.7-75.8ED); WK 11 - - - CCR
Day 24; 66th DOP (77ED); end of WK 11; GPU, IRM, OWEH
- - - Sess. 1 and 2 for 7 min 36 sec each.
- - - Sess 3 – at end of session, Jack touched me... and I think we controlled the wormhole for a second before the session ended.
Day 25-27; 67, 68 and 69th DOP (78-80ED); WK 12
- - - CCR, planning and assembling materials for more permanent shelter
Day 28; 70th DOP (81.7ED); WK 12; GPU, IRM,
- - - Sess. 1; we could feel each other's minds; OWEH
- - - Sess. 2; light blue ribbon; other wormhole; we connected!;
Pale-orange event horizon (POEH);
pale green glow leaking out between my hand and the 'Gate
Days 29-31; 71, 72 and 73nd DOP (82.8-85ED); WK 12/13
- - - CCR, planning and assembling materials for more permanent shelter
Day 32; 74th DOP (86.3ED); WK 13; GPU, IRM, OWEH/POEH
--- Broadcasting 10-sec Encrypted Message (BEM10sec)
--- Sess 1; 1 connection; we counted to 20... this was 32 seconds as recorded by the time-lapse sequence of the digital camera
--- Sess 2; 2 connections; our control over the moving planes and wormhole is increasing; we held each for a count of 40 (which was 65 seconds as recorded by the digital camera)
Days 33-34; 75th and 76th DOP (87.5-88.7); WK 13
- - - CCR, planning and assembling materials for more permanent shelter
Day 35; 77th DOP (89.8ED); WK 13;
- - -
---------------------------------------------
"Hi," she announced her arrival and looked over his shoulder at the laptop screen. Raising her eyebrows a bit, she asked "Bored?" with a small, knowing smile.
"Just checking the timeline," he replied and then glanced back at her. "We've actually come pretty far in just 33 days of testing."
She nodded thoughtfully and then reminded him, "That's 33 of our 28-hour days... which would actually be 38 and a half Earth days," and then added, "But it's 5 and a half weeks either way," referring to their 6-day week and Earth's 7-day week.
"So... we've come a long ways in just five and a half weeks," he restated with a slightly exaggerated patience that was tempered with a small smile of friendly amusement.
She blushed lightly at his unspoken yet obvious comment on her 'technobabble nitpicking', "Yes," she acknowledged.
"We could connect with Earth or one of our allies any time, right?" he asked.
She nodded again and added a small shrug, "It's possible, but I don't think it's probable until we can recognize some star configurations. Once we do that, I think we'll be able to zero right in on Earth."
"So it's just a matter of time...days... weeks... months...?" he queried.
She shrugged her eyebrows, "No way to say... it could take months or years... or we might get lucky on our next attempt. I can't say one way or the other," she admitted.
He studied her silently for a few moments and she looked back curiously. Before she could ask, however, he finally found his voice, "Sam, we need to talk before we go back," and his tone was soft and serious.
Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head quizzically. What was he referring to? One topic in particular leapt to mind..."Sam?"
And his voice pulled her back from her thoughts, "Sorry... I was just thinking," and before he could comment on that, she continued with trepidation, "Talk about what?"
He glanced down at the laptop and then over at their shelter, "How about we pack a few things and go sit by the river and fish while we talk?"
Her curiosity deepened but she shrugged and acquiesced, "OK, just give me ten minutes to put a few things away."
He nodded and then turned back to her laptop, closing the open files and then shutting the machine down. Next, he collected their fishing gear and packed some water and snacks in a rucksack.
- - - -
The water rippled gently downstream. A very different river compared to when it had been full of recent storm waters. The rippling water reflected the trees, brush and patches of cloud-studded sky. His reverie rambled from their first days sitting along the river... to his tumultuous swim... to the placid waters before them today. So much had happened over their three months on this planet.
"Jack?" she asked quietly, but reminding him that he had asked her here. To talk. And now he was not. Talking.
He glanced over at her and she gave him a small smile of curiosity. He sent his gaze back to the river and then asked, "What would you expect to have happen... if... say... you were permanently injured on a mission... say... paralyzed from the waist down, like I could have been from that tumble downriver?"
She stared back at him for a moment with a concerned look, as she tried to figure out where he was leading the conversation. Unable to fathom his purposes yet, she returned to his question and then shrugged, "Well, I guess I would expect that the Air Force would give me a medical discharge... and then I'd have to see what I wanted to do after that. Maybe work for the Air Force as a consultant...if they wanted me as a wheelchair-bound civilian."
He nodded, "That's what most people would expect," he agreed and her brows furrowed again as she knew that she hadn't figured out yet what his purpose was with his question.
"Most people?" she questioned his phrasing and he nodded.
"And you're not most people," he elaborated and then seeing the look of bewilderment on her face, he continued, "Sam, a few days before the visit to Sandara, I had a meeting with General Hammond," and she didn't interrupt, but just waited for him to start making sense. "I'm pretty sure that Hammond figured that I'd tell you...," and he took a breath, aware that he wasn't clearing things up for her, "Sam, there is apparently... this... 'Ranking'... where personnel are ranked according to their... usefulness," and her eyebrows shot up again at that, but she didn't say anything.
"Well, to make a long story short, most folks in the military fall into the 30's, 40's and 50's... with anything below a 30 indicating someone undesirable, someone who should be given all reasonable attempts for a discharge... or at the very least, not re-enlisted. The 30's are considered fairly Average Joe's, the 40's are soldiers who would be considered valuable if they were to reenlist voluntarily and the 50's are those who are actively pursued for reenlistment and career military track," and he paused to see if he was making sense. She looked back at him guardedly, still trying to figure out his true purpose for this conversation. "Guess what your ranking is," he directed.
She looked at him consideringly. Evaluating everything he'd said... and then slowly shook her head and shrugged without answering.
"Officially it's a 67," he supplied and then waited expectantly.
She narrowed her eyes a little at his wording but continued to wait silently.
He watched her carefully, "It means that if you were to be paralyzed or some such, the military would still want you... a lot."
"Ohhkayy," she drew it out as she tried to fathom his intensity. "So, they would hire me as a civilian consultant," and she shrugged.
"No," he returned with a shake of his head.
"No?" she echoed back as a question.
"No," he reiterated and then added, "Sam, they wouldn't give you a medical discharge, they'd keep you in the service," he explained.
"That would be... highly irregular," she stated as she thought it over.
"Yes, but they would maintain control," he spelled it out and watched the realization sink in for her.
"Control," she echoed.
"As with Podunk, Illinois," he pointed out.
"Since that long ago?" she spoke her disbelief aloud.
He snorted softly, "Sam, I don't know what exactly your ranking was ten or fifteen years ago, but it was at least in the 50s... and since the Stargate project, it's only gone up."
Her eyes shifted to the river and then the trees and then to some rocks and then back to the river as her mind sifted through the implications. "My experiences with Jolinar... my -unreliable- ability to use the healing device... and a Goa'uld hand device on occasion... things like that...," and her voice trailed off as she thought through some of the experiences of the past 8 years.
"Exactly," he confirmed.
"So...," as her thoughts drifted through the possible ramifications.
"So, even if you wanted to leave the Air Force...," and here his voice trailed off suggestively.
She looked at him with surprise, "Even if I wanted to leave the Air Force?" she echoed him again.
"You would be persuaded with every possible enticement to stay," he elaborated just a little more.
"Ohhkaay...," she drew the word out as she thought over the ramifications of his statement and then shrugged again. "I have to admit that I'm not seeing a downside here, but I'm getting the feeling that I'm missing something," she admitted.
He nodded and gave her a small rueful grin, "Well, it seems that a section of the old rogue NID had their own ranking system," he explained and watched as both of her eyebrows climbed her forehead again. "On their scale, you were a 90-X," he then added and watched for her reaction.
"And a 90-X means...?" she prompted.
"If you showed any evidence that you were not agreeable to staying in the service...or at least working for the military in some capacity...," and he watched her face as his inferences sunk in.
"Then what?" she asked in a flat tone.
"You'd be incarcerated," he said heavily.
"What?!" she nearly shouted in disbelief.
Grimacing, he elaborated, "As I understand it you would be 'housed' in some sort of facility where they could direct your research, but you would not be allowed a normal life..."
"Prison?!" she stated with even more incredulity.
"Basically, although I think they called it something else, something more 'Politically Correct'," and his tone fully revealed his feelings on the matter.
"How could they make me work on anything if they locked me away?" she asked before thinking that through to its ugly conclusion.
"Well, I have a feeling that they had contingencies for what they would do if you weren't willing to cooperate," and then he waited for that to sink in.
And he watched the revulsion on her face as she understood the implications. "Lab rat," she summarized succinctly and he could hear the anger in her voice.
"Afraid so," he admitted and then sighed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he added sincerely.
She just looked at him, still trying to assimilate what he'd told her. He let her ponder the ramifications in silence.
"And this is all past tense?" she questioned.
"So Hammond was told," he returned and shrugged, "They believe that they shut down that end of the NID's operations."
She stared at him for a few more moments before asking, "And what about you?"
"What about me?" he returned.
"You've had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into your brain twice, you've activated and controlled the technology of the ancients, you've had at least two symbiotes...," she ran through some of his 'highlights'. "So... what is -or was- your ranking?" she asked.
Sighing, he focused back on the rippling water sliding by, "90-Z," he returned heavily.
"And what does the difference mean?" she asked astutely.
"It's mostly the same... even if I was technically eligible for a medical discharge, they'd keep me on if at all possible... and if I didn't want to work for the government anymore, in any capacity...," and his voice trailed off.
"Lab rat," she supplied and he nodded with a grimace.
"Lab rat," he echoed.
"Still, that doesn't explain the difference - what does the Z signify?" she pursued.
He studied her face for a moment and then admitted, "Apparently they thought that I was more of a risk."
"A risk... for...?" she questioned.
"More likely to be significantly and demonstrably unhappy with the conditions of my continued enforced service," he spoke around the point with pseudo-bureaucratic lingo.
"And what would they...?" And then a horrified look crossed her face as a hideous thought occurred to her. She closed her eyes and then spoke softly, "Great, so this was what we had to look forward to? Forced labor or life as lab rats... or they just...what?... put you down like a rabid dog?"
"Yeah, I wasn't very happy with the options when George was explaining them to me, either," he muttered.
Sam sighed and looked at the ground, "What about Daniel and Teal'c?"
"Teal'c was apparently considered more of a threat than an asset. I think that his inscrutable 'stone face' threw them off... I think they were actually scared of him and would rather that he simply moved offworld when he was done serving with SG-1," Jack opined.
"And Daniel?" Sam asked softly.
"Daniel is almost just the opposite," and Jack smiled. "I think that his non-aggressive and general geeky image had them believing that he wasn't much of a threat. Besides, I think that they figured that he'd keep working on his research for as long as he could anyway... They'd probably just try to make sure that he always had the funding he needed for the projects that they were the most interested in," and then Jack took a breath, "But if Danny-boy ever gave them any cause for worry, I think they would have just packed him off to some sort of 'secure research facility' somewhere."
"When Hoskins and Jennings kidnapped him, we saw a good example of what they'll do to get him to work on what they want," Sam pointed out, referring to the events with the ex-NID agents.
He nodded silently and the two of them watched the reflections on the river.
Glancing at her, he steeled himself for the next part of his story, "Sam, that's not all I wanted to tell you," he started.
"There's more?" and she didn't sound excited at that idea.
He smiled apologetically, ""When Hammond told me all of this... I was angry... I know that we've uncovered and/or destroyed much of what the NID and/or the Trust had set-up... but they are like ugly little rats... and I... just felt so frustrated... I just wanted to... get away... to leave the whole dirty lot of them behind... I wanted to take you and Daniel and Teal'c and Cassie and just 'Gate somewhere and not come back," and here he sighed and grimaced a bit. "And I have to admit that... when I was stuck in meetings for hours on end... I mentally thought about... just what... logistical steps that it would require to... go somewhere... like this... and to get the needed supplies... and to do it so that no one would be able to track or follow," he admitted and then waited for her reaction.
She met his eyes and then her gaze shifted down and the silence between them stretched longer, underscoring the fact that Daniel, Teal'c and Cassie were not here... and he'd been on Sandara with Daniel and Teal'c.
"And I was tired of all of the paperwork...and red tape... and politics... of being 'the man'... and I was tired of having to stay back and watch while I sent teams offworld and into who-knows-what... and I was tired of having to play politics with desk-bound armchair officers and arrogant politicians...," he paused for a moment but then continued, "And then, when I got the chance to go off-world with SG-1, my old team... the team wasn't complete," and he met her eyes almost accusingly, "You were missing... and... I know that it wasn't your choice," he forestalled her protestations. "It just felt like... the way that things have developed over the past couple of years... it just felt like we were... being driven by circumstances down certain paths...like we were being controlled by our sense of duty and outside factors... and like we were being used," and he looked away into the distance.
"So I had all of that rattling around in my head before we left for Sandara...and I didn't have any chances to talk to any of you about it," and he looked over and met her eyes again, wondering just how much more he should say. And then he heard the words of that song, egging him on...
...and he said someday I hope you get the chance
...to live like you were dying.
She was watching him intently and he plunged forward, knowing that there may never be a better opportunity to say these words, "The Sandaran Vandi... let me do some things that I couldn't normally do... ignore the regs... ignore the boundaries between the two of us...," and then he closed his eyes for a few seconds and then looked at the ground as those lyrics continued to echo in his mind.
...Like tomorrow was a gift and you got eternity to think about
...what'd you do with it? what did you do with it?
As cliche as it was, it was 'now or never', and he took another deep breath, "Sam, I have had these feelings for you... over the years... and... and I just haven't known what to do...," he glanced over to see her watching him intently, "We're colleagues... I'm your CO... there are regulations..."
"And if there weren't any regulations in the way?" and she said it so softly that he almost thought he imagined it.
...and he said someday I hope you get the chance
...to live like you were dying.
"Then I would have probably asked you out on a date years ago," and he struggled to keep his voice steady, but then the next words came more easily, "...and I would have hoped that you wouldn't laugh in my face because of the age difference... or because you just couldn't imagine dating a grizzled old soldier."
She stared at him without moving. Her face not revealing her thoughts. "I wouldn't have laughed," she finally returned softly.
Their eyes met and held, each of them searching the other's eyes for information.
Each wondering what should be said next.
"So... if and when we get back to Earth... what then?" she asked without moving her eyes from his.
"We've been gone three months... they will have assigned a new CO for the SGC," and he didn't move his eyes from hers as he voiced what they both knew. "So..., I'll either have a different position of some sort... or I'll retire...maybe do that civilian consulting gig... but either way... regs shouldn't be an issue anymore... and I should have the chance to ask a certain Lt. Colonel out for that date..."
A slow blush and smile stole onto her face, but without breaking his gaze, she replied, "I guess that's just more incentive to get that 'Gate connection working..."
And he couldn't hide the answering fire in his eyes.
...and he said someday I hope you get the chance
...to live like you were dying.
...Like tomorrow was a gift and you got eternity to think about
...what'd you do with it? what did you do with it?
- - -
TBC
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Author's Notes: As always, a Special Thanks to SG-1 Yahoo Transcripts
wwwdotmoon-catchindotnet/transcripts.htm (just replace the dots with periods)
Episode 807, 'Affinity', transcript by Carrie Sullivan
Episode 808, 'Covenant', transcript by Carrie Sullivan
And, credit also goes to the Episode Guide & Synopses at the SciFi Channel's Stargate SG-1 website
And as in previous chapters, the lyrics quoted earlier are after the song 'Live Like You Were Dying', by Craig Wiseman and Tim Nichols. If you'd like to hear the song sung by Tim McGraw, go to wwwdotsmashitsusadotcom/index.cfm?PageAudio&SubPagealbumdetails&AlbumID634 (and replace the dots with periods)
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