Secrets and Shadows: The Thin Blue Line

Part Three

George Hammond was accustomed to the strange and bizarre in this command. The request sitting on the desk before him was neither strange, nor bizarre, which could be considered strange and bizarre in the context of the SGC.

It was nothing more than a notification of resignation, pending the birth of Major Samantha Carter's child. Perfectly ordinary; not entirely unexpected. Everything on the notification was in order, from the date of intended resignation to her flourished signature at the bottom.

He glanced up over the paper to the woman who was resigning her commission. "It all seems to be in order," he stated.

"Yes, sir."

"And I imagine you won't be travelling through the Stargate in future."

"Not if I can help it, sir."

Well, he could certainly understand that.

George was extremely reluctant to let the Major leave Stargate Command, although he could hardly fault her desire to leave. A life at the beck and call of superiors who might or might not understand a parent's wish to stay with her child was not something that most parents desired. And Sam Carter had contributed more to the program than any person should ever have had to give of themselves in any job. She'd done her duty and far beyond it, and although George very much would have preferred to keep her here, it was plain to see that she had her heart set on being a parent to her child.

"I can't stop you from leaving, Major, although this command will certainly miss you and the work you've contributed to it. Do you have plans for work after the baby is born?"

"Not yet, sir." Sam hesitated a moment, "I thought I might apply to teach at the Academy when he's old enough to be left alone for longer periods..."

The notification of the baby's sex was surprising, and George regarded her with astonishment. "You already know it's a boy?"

She ducked her head, "No." A faint smile touched her lips, "Just projecting."

George remembered Margaret doing the same thing with their first child. For a moment, he wished the SGC had some way to get in contact with the Tok'ra. Jacob should be here for this - should at least know that he was going to be a grandfather again.

"Well, I believe I can safely say that the SGC will always have room for you, Major." There was something graceful and sad in her nod, almost final, as though she were leaving now and not in six months time. "In the meantime, you're presently working on a number of projects external to your involvement on SG-1 that should provide you with sufficient occupation over the next few months. Before you leave, those projects will need to be in a sufficient state of completion so that other personnel can take over the work on them."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Have you given any thought to how this news will be received in...other organisations?" George wasn't sure if she'd considered the ramifications of her status as one of the few living hosts of Goa'uld symbiotes - and the only one with a sensitivity to naquadah.

"I've already been in conversation with Dr. Brightman about it," she told him. "And I would like to speak with you about setting up some failsafes in the event of injury or death to myself or my child."

"Now?"

The Major shook her head, "I'll need a day or so to iron out some of the finer details before presenting it to you, sir. If that's permissible."

"Certainly it is," he said, immediately. Knowing the Major as he did, George was certain she wouldn't ask for anything more than what she was entitled to through her work on the project. And he'd extend every possible cover to her and her child in order to make sure that both mother and child made it through the pregnancy and were protected after the birth. He owed it to her as one of his people. "Set up an appointment with my aide and I'll get that sorted out at the first available opportunity."

She nodded, and when he spoke again, it wasn't as a commanding officer but as an old family friend. "If there's anything I can do, Major..." The words felt stilted and awkward but she didn't seem to mind.

"Thankyou, sir." Then she paused and her eyes twinkled a little, "Uncle George."

He chuckled at the nickname she'd given him years ago, when she was just a little girl and he was visiting Jacob. "Your resignation isn't effective yet, Major," he said, wryly, "But if you do find yourself needing...well...in the absence of your father... I'd be honoured if..."

Sam smiled again, a beautiful, brilliant smile. "Thank you," she said, and this time she left off the honourific due his rank.

Later, when she was gone, George considered the situation lying ahead of him, the complexities and changes that were coming - not just for the Major, but for the SGC generally.

Sam Carter wasn't the only one facing big decisions with long-reaching ramifications at this moment, although the effects of her decisions weren't likely to be terribly far-reaching in terms of the people around her. Then, again...

George wondered if he should go and see Jack. It should have been an unthinkable idea, to go and check on a subordinate for the reasons George was entertaining. But George had long ago discovered that the SGC got quite a bit more leeway than other commands, and more than once he'd stretched that leeway near to breaking. And his people might be cogs in the machine of the Air Force, but they were also people. They had lives and loves and breaking points and human frailties.

Sometimes that human frailty turned out to be a weakness, and sometimes it turned out to be a strength. George had seen both in his time as commander of the SGC. The trick, he'd discovered, was to find the right people: the men and women whose inner steel would hold them through the tough times.

As he shuffled Major Carter's resignation papers away with the other paperwork that would have to be delivered to base, George wondered just how much steel Jack O'Neill was made of.

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