Chapter Seven
By midnight, the base was fast asleep—save for one Jack O'Neill who had only recently kicked Daniel Jackson out of his office. Daniel had been rambling on about something the MALP sent back from off world for the entire night. Jack finally had enough and told the young man to simply get out.
Closing up his office, Jack stifled a yawn and headed down the hall to the elevator. He was half asleep by the time he reached the elevator and had to hit the button twice before it lit up. He had just leaned against the wall when the doors dinged open and Carter came walking around the corner.
"Sir?" she asked.
Snapping into the waking world, Jack pushed away from the wall and turned his back on Carter, "NO! I don't want to hear it! I'm going home Carter!"
Sam smiled as she walked up behind him and held out a small duffle bag, "Uhm, Sir?"
Jack squinted through his eyelids and looked over his shoulder. Seeing the bag, he turned and sighed, "Where—"
"You left it in the briefing room…" Sam said through a soft chuckle.
Ignoring the smile on her face, Jack turned and took the bag while propping the elevator doors open with his foot. "Thanks Carter," Jack said, stepping into the elevator, "You uh, pulling an all-nighter?"
"Yes, Sir—Daniel and I…"
"Yes…all that meaning of life stuff. Well, have fun and try to get some sleep—you two have an early flight out tomorrow," with a lazy salute, Jack stepped into the elevator.
Carter nodded and smiled as the doors closed, "Goodnight, Sir."
"Night Carter."
The elevator dinged as it made its ascent to the ground levels and Carter found herself looking upward as though she could see him through the metal and steel. The soft smile faded from her lips and her feet took over, carrying her down the hall and back to her office and back to work…
X X X
One floor above, the halls of the SGC echoed with the gentle hum of the air circulation system as Martin crept through the halls. She had returned to her room after dinner but ditched any hopes of sleep after two hours of reciting the periodic table and had taken to the halls in search of a cup of coffee…
In any other situation she would have been hopelessly lost by now but the small map of the base that she found in her room was legible enough for her to make her way through the halls.
However, the hall she was currently lost in couldn't be found on the map. At her wits end, Martin walked to the end where the corridor spilt into two sections—this is hopeless. She was just about to start knocking on doors when she heard footsteps behind her.
The footsteps stopped and she heard something that sounded like someone clearing their throat before he spoke, "Ms. Martin, what are you doing here?"
Turning slowly, Martin faced the one person she had hoped to avoid for the rest of the night—but there he was Sergeant Tiller, standing two feet away in his Marine Corps issue sweat pants and t-shirt with a look on his face that—what was that look? But her eyes were drawn to his arms and shoulders bulking beneath the sheer green t-shirt he wore. Earlier that day his clothes had masked his chiseled features and now she had to shake her head and look down to the floor to keep from staring at the man.
Immediately self-conscious, Martin crossed her arms over her chest. "Sergeant Tiller—" she said, fighting the shakiness in her voice. "Did you need something?"
His hands clasped behind him. Tiller took two slow steps toward her and looked down at her attire. "I was going to ask you the same thing. Do you have any idea where you are?" He couldn't fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. The sight before him was just too comical not to react to it. That morning he saw nothing more than a twitchy, off balanced and extremely awkward scientist—well she was still all this but seeing her wear an over sized t-shirt with "Spock's My Homeboy" printed down the front with flannel pants and bright blue fuzzy slippers—not to mention the braids that made her look like Pippi Longstocking—was just too much.
Martin glared back and braced herself against the look in Tiller's eyes. "Of course I know where I am," she said, stepping backwards to distance herself from Tiller until she backed into the wall.
Tiller just stood there and watched her squirm. "Oh really?"
With her hands on the wall behind her, Martin looked for the best escape route and walked around Tiller to take off down the hall. But a few steps later, Martin stopped in her tracks as she realized that she was truly lost. Martin accepted defeat and began to walk back towards Tiller, "Alright—so I'm a little lost." Stopping in front of him, she squinted through the florescent lights above as she came to yet another realization, "What are you doing here? Are you following me?"
Without hesitation, Tiller pointed behind him to the double doors leading to the work out center. "Gym," crossing his arms once again, Tiller let the smile fade from his lips as his jaw set.
"Oh," she felt stupid now.
"Would you like an escort back to your room Ms. Martin?"
His timing was annoying—good, but still annoying. For a moment she thought it might be better just to walk around lost for the rest of the night than to have to spend another moment of her life entertaining this brute, "No—I would not," she said walking past him and down the hall that she knew led back to the elevator. After a few steps she stopped and turned back—he was still standing in the same spot watching her walk away. "One question," she asked, standing her ground. "Why is it that you insist on calling me Ms. Martin?"
Tiller had to think a second here, why would this be a problem? "It's your name—isn't it?" he asked as he began to close the gap between them, stopping short of her fuzzy slippers.
Martin's eyes as she sighed, "Well gee, seeing as how I have all those nice shiny diplomas—you'd think that someone around here would call me, oh I don't know—DOCTOR Martin…but hey that's just me."
There was that smirk again, "I'm so sorry, Doctor Martin—is that all?"
"Yes." She was walking down the hall again, then stopped and turned, "NO—actually it isn't." Stopping short of knocking him over she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him the best she could, "Did I do something?"
Now in a stand off, Tiller crossed his arms over his chest and briefly brushed her arms as he looked down at her, "Something?"
"Wrong—have I done something wrong?" She was getting loud now, a little louder than she should be speaking this time of night in a hallway that echoed for miles in every direction, "Because ever since I got here I've been thrown around like a rag doll with out any consideration for the fact that I DON'T WANT ANY OF THIS!"
Still glaring down at her Tiller was confused, "Any of this?"
She all but stomped her foot, but kept her temper under wraps as she tried to fight off the urge to sucker punch him—even if he'd kill her for it, "Are you going to repeat the last two words I say every time I ask you a question?"
"No."
She was mad now, he was just trying to get under her skin—and it was working.
Her fists clutched at her sides as Martin took a deep breath and forced a smile before mimicking an about face and stormed down the hall, "I hate the military—why am I even here?"
He was enjoying this, even if it was cruel and unusual punishment—he was getting a kick out of seeing Martin squirm. But through the twisted pleasure he was getting out of torturing her--his mother's voice came through and drowned out the Marine mentality he had grown accustomed to. You're always so harsh—you need to stop and think about what you say… A knot formed in the pit of his stomach and Tiller knew he had gone too far. "Doctor Martin—" he said, calling after her as he jogged up behind her.
She stopped walking as Tiller touched her shoulder, but she refused to look at him and he had to walk around her to see her face.
Tiller stopped in front of her and propped his hands on his hips. Martin only looked up in exhaustion, "What?"
"Look—Doc…" Her eyes blinked at him and Tiller saw something in her eyes that reminded him of his little sister and for a fraction of a second he wanted to hug her—but that feeling was quickly replaced by his Marine mentality, "Look, this is a military installation--they aren't going to treat you like a baby here. You were assigned to this team to do a job—so just do it and forget about everything else."
"I don't need to have someone hold my hand." All she really needed was for someone to say they understood her predicament and her frustrations but she knew that wasn't going to happen here. Tears started to sting the corners of her eyes but Martin refused to let the Sergeant see her anywhere close to crying and walked around him and headed down the hall—the wrong way.
As soon as she turned, that knot returned to his stomach, "Hey Doc." He had gone too far and he knew it. He wasn't going to be able to force her into a mold like he had with countless wayward Marines. This was going to take a different approach all together—one he hadn't used before.
She stopped walking again and tilted her head to the side before turning around as he stopped short in front of her, "Yes, Sergeant Tiller?"
He didn't smile but his usual grimace softened into an indifferent gaze, "Want a cup of coffee?" It was a neutral question but it was all Martin had to hear to give her hope that maybe this wasn't going to be the nightmare she had thought it was going to be.
The commissary had closed hours ago, but the dinning area was still open for any late night passerby in search of coffee…
Tiller and Martin had each poured a cup and sat quietly at a table in the far corner. Neither had said a word and Martin had just gotten up to pour her self a third cup. They both wanted to talk. Tiller had things to apologize for and Martin had some explaining to do. Tiller was the first to break the silence. Setting down his coffee cup, he stared at a non-descript point on the table, "So…I've been in the Marine Corps for almost eight years now." It was a statement, not really meant to uncover anything shocking—but Ms. Martin took it as an explanation for his treatment of her.
Nodding at his understated explanation, Martin made her own confession, "I haven't seen daylight for the last six years." It was a statement of her own, equally straight forward in its meaning--Tiller took it as her explanation for her inability to adapt.
Nodding slowly, he sipped his coffee, "Where're you from?"
Not missing a beat in their exchange of information, Martin sipped her coffee and looked over the rim of her cup as she spoke, "Arlington. You?"
"North Carolina. Parents around?"
"My dad—but he ignores me to the point that it feels like he died with my mother. Yours?"
Tiller shook his head as the corner of his mouth turned up, "They're too stubborn to die." Tiller eased into his chair now, shifting his weight until he was slouching into the back of the chair. "So what is it that you do exactly?"
Martin grinned, "You want a list?"
Tiller squinted at her and tried to picture her in uniform, nah she could never be a Marine, "That brilliant huh?"
Martin set down her cup and walked over to get the coffee pot from the stand, "No—that bored," she said, sitting back down and filling up her cup.
Setting the pot between them, Martin turned the handle toward Tiller as he spoke, "Bored?"
"When I was in the 7th grade my dad realized I was different. I had memorized my entire text book from my science class in the first week of school—that's where it started."
"Smart kid, eh?"
She smiled on the out side but a part of her twisted at the memory of her childhood—if you only knew… "My first college professor told me that the most dangerous thing in the world was brilliance mixed with boredom. Turns out I'm the perfect example."
"So you graduated college when you were…16?"
"Ah…14. I had my Masters in Archeology by the time I was 18, Doctorate in Linguistics by 20 and after that I just stayed at Yale. It seemed like a good place for someone like me."
The military had always been Tiller's home and he grimaced at the thought of someone actually wanting to live at a school. "How'd you end up at Area-51?"
This perked Martin up and she set her cup aside before beginning the tale, "I have this thing for codes and languages…anything that seems like it can't be figured out I pretty much jumped at. And, well—I got a-hold of an artifact from a dig I visited and translated the language—which turned out to be something that the think tanks at Area- 51 were working on. Anyway, long story short—my dad made his one gesture of fatherly interest in my existence and had me assigned to the research and development team there."
He was confused now, "I'm sorry—your dad? What's he got to do with it?"
Martin had laughed him off and picked up her coffee cup, but her hand stopped short of her lips when she saw the honesty in his eyes, "My dad—you don't know who he is?"
A blankness washed over Tiller as he tried to make some sort of logic out of her question, "Why would I know that?"
Martin set her cup down and gaped over at Tiller, "You really don't know? Seriously?" She was smiling now, a broad smile that made Tiller wish he knew what the hell she was talking about.
"Should I know?"
Martin thought a moment and smiled at the thought of working without her usual safety net. "Well, I guess not. It's just that—most people know," but after a quick rehash of the days events—everything suddenly made an odd sort of sense, "I think I like that you don't know."
This was making her way too happy to be anything good and Tiller suddenly got nervous, "Are you going to tell me who he is?"
Looking upward, Martin pondered her decision and looked back at Tiller—then it dawned on her. She had never been in an environment like this…for once she wasn't going to be known as her father's daughter, "No, I'm not going to tell you just yet." Everything felt easier now, not so tight around her chest as it had felt since her arrival. This would be different—a good kind of different.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Tiller was ready and waiting in the gate room by 0645, if you weren't 15 minutes early—you were late. He had made it to his room by 0300, after escorting Martin back to her room. He stopped at the door and simply stated, "Night Doc," before walking off.
He should have gone to sleep hours before, but in his entire military career he had never been able to sleep before a big mission. This being his first off world mission with his new team—there was no way Tiller was going to get a full nights sleep and so he hadn't thought twice about staying up late with Martin talking about…nothing.
It was a different story for Martin, who upon walking into the gate room, yawned before she could say good morning. Sleepy eyed and only one cup of coffee to calm her nervous stomach, Martin walked to Tiller's side and leaned again the ramp at the base of the gate.
"Hey Doc," Tiller said with a notable smile. He couldn't help but be distracted by the colossal Kevlar helmet on her head. After stifling a laugh in his hand he reached out and unhooked the chinstrap. "They only tell the new guys to wear these," he said taking it off her head and handing it to the armor tech as he approached with their weapons. "Hey Airman, can you take this?"
Martin felt like the butt-end of a long running joke on the new guys, would it ever end? "If we don't have to wear them then why do they give them out to the new people?" She asked as the armor tech strapped on her Zat holster than rested it on her thigh.
"So you stick out and we can tell who's knew and who knows what they're doing—but don't tell anyone I told you." He said taking the second Zat from the armor tech and strapping on the holster himself.
Fingering the top of her Zat, Martin looked down at the familiar weapon and began to repeat the procedure in her mind on how to dismantle it.
Tiller couldn't help but crack a joke, "You know how to fire that thing, right?"
Glaring over at him, Martin thought, This is what it must be like to have an older brother, "I've taken theses things apart and put them back together again, Sergeant."
Walking behind her, Tiller checked her pack straps and tugged at the left one to tighten it, "That doesn't mean you can shoot it without knocking yourself out."
"I'm not that useless." She said as Colonel Bedard walked in with Lt. Connelly.
Stopping short of the ramp, Bedard waited for the armor tech to hand over their weapons, "Ten mics till depart—everyone geared up?" He asked, not really expecting a reply--He was use to only getting a reply if the answer was negative.
Martin turned, and replied in a tone far chipper than she had intended, "Yes Colonel—all ready here."
The Colonel didn't say anything, only looked over at the armor tech and took both weapons he held, handing one to Connelly, he then strapped his own weapon to the harness on his vest.
Up above, General O'Neill hovered over the microphone, ready to do his favorite part of his new job, "Alright SG-4, standard three hour tour—" O'Neill called out while glaring down at Bedard, "Check back in 45…and don't talk to strangers." He said wagging his finger at them like a mother hen.
With his pointer finger extended, Bedard offered a lazy salute, "Yes Sir," With a nod to Connelly, the two men headed for the ramp as the gate roared to life.
The inner circle began to turn and one by one the lights lit up.
Martin, still standing at the base of the ramp was well within the blast radius of the wormhole and just before the fluid burst exploded from the center of the gate, Tiller nonchalantly reached for Martin's pack and yanked her out of harm's way as though she were a small child about to step into the street.
His hold on her lifted Martin's feet from the ground only for a split second but it was enough to make Martin loose her balance and stumble to her feet beside Tiller who was calmly watching the event horizon settled to a shining puddle of water. She didn't have time to scream, and attempted to play off the whole scene as Colonel Bedard and Lieutenant Connelly walked around them and up the ramp.
Still standing at her side, Tiller adjusted his cover as he spoke, "You uh…don't want to get hit with that kawoosh thing," He said, walking up the ramp as Bedard and Connelly disappeared into the event horizon.
Taking his lead, again, Martin followed Tiller until he stopped short of the puddle, "Yes I know…I'm the scientist here." She said walking up to his side.
Tiller reached out and touched the puddle as though he were testing pool water as he spoke, "What ever you say Doc…" satisfied with the temperature, Tiller stepped into the puddle but just before his shoulder disappeared he reached out for Martin's arm and pulled her in behind him.
On the other side of the gate, Sergeant Tiller walked through casually with a firm grip on Doc's arm.
Martin got her footing quickly and Tiller let her arm loose as he started down the stone steps before them. Down the steps, Bedard and Connelly had started down a dirt path a few feet away.
Going into action, Tiller released his weapon and began a visual search of the area. Grass in every direction of the clearing that spread in a half-mile radius of the gate, beyond that a dense tree line begged to be explored.
Also keeping his eyes on the tree line, Bedard wasted no time in breaking up the team, "Sergeant Tiller, take Martin and give me a south west parameter of the tree line, Connelly, we'll take the north quad…keep on your radios people, I don't want to loose anyone on our first time out." His orders were less threatening than she had anticipated. But as ordered Martin started following Tiller as they walked around the Stargate and headed for the tree line…
X X X
Armed only with a Zat, Martin was trying to fight off the nervous twitch in her stomach---I'm on another planet, holy cow…I'm on another planet! She flinched at every sound around her and whipped her head around to look at ever shadow as Tiller surveyed the area with military precision…once again, Martin felt like the but-end of a joke.
Tiller stopped ahead at the tree line and waited for her to catch up, "Okay, stay on my six and don't walk out of eye sight,"
She couldn't help but mock him as he walked into the trees and navigated the terrain as though he were starring in a Delta Force movie, "Roger that, I'm on your six." Her tone was playful at best but still—Tiller didn't react.
With the sunlight barely breaking through the dense canopy, Martin had stopped to adjust the settings on her camera. She only stopped a few seconds but it was long enough that when she looked back up, Tiller was nowhere in sight. Turning in a complete circle, Martin took deep breaths as her heart began to beat faster. "Sergeant Tiller?" she called out.
No answer came back.
Her heart was beating so loud Martin couldn't hear herself think, but managed to stuff her camera back in her pack as the trees around her seemed to grow taller and menacing. The darkness enveloped the small clearing she stood in and as the forest feel silent, Martin griped her Zat with a shaky grip before walking a head into the trees in search for Sergeant Tiller…
X X X
It had been 18 mics since the team had began to plot out the perimeter and Col. Bedard was beginning to like the feel of this particular planet.
Connelly was walking a parallel 20 feet to his right and seemed to be irked by something…
Reaching for his radio, Bedard pushed the alert button for Connelly, "Something wrong Lieutenant?" He asked, recognizing the irritated manner in which he was tromping through the knee-high grass.
Seconds later, Connelly came back over the radio. "No Sir, beautiful day isn't it?" Bedard could hear the annoyance in his voice clearly.
"We want it quiet Connelly. I promise next time I'll try to find a nice Jaffa occupied planet."
"Sounds good to me Sir."
"I want to head over to that south ridge line, looks like there could be some sort of river or creek that way," He said, motioning over to where the tree line parted and rose over a hill. As the two men moved their path to the direction of the hill, Bedard kept a steady eye on his surroundings and thought that just maybe--by the grace of god, they just might make it through their first mission with out any injuries.
But as he radio came to life on his shoulder and his consciousness chided him, it's never THAT easy, "Sir, this is Tiller, Martin got lost in the tree line Sir—I'm back stepping now to find her."
Sighing, Bedard reached for his radio, "I'm not even going to ask how she got lost, have you been able to reach her on the radio?"
"No Sir,"
Connelly had picked up on the transmission now and was trying not to smile at the thought of Martin being lost. A short glare from Bedard and his smile disappeared.
Waiving Connelly over to him, Bedard spoke again, "Alright—it might be nothing but I don't want to take any chances. I'm sending Lieutenant Connelly your way."
Pausing before him only for a moment, Connelly nodded to his Commanding Officer and took off for the tree line to meet Sergeant Tiller half way.
X X X
Walking deeper into the forest, Martin had managed to avoid three sink holes, an odd-looking rabbit type of animal and a worm like creature that she was certain was of a poisonous nature.
Picking a spot near a fallen tree, Martin n hooked her pack and dropped it beside her as she took out her canteen. "Well, this is going swell. Aside from being lost in the middle of nowhere on a planet a million miles from home, everything is just peachy..." her voice trailed off as she spotted another animal a few feet off in the underbrush. With her eyes on the animal, she reached into her bag and pulled out her camera.
The animal rustled through the low bushes and she could hear a chewing sound as she knelt down a few feet from the animal and lay down on the ground to get a better view. But just before she could take the picture, the animal ran right pass her and disappeared into the distance. Martin looked over her shoulder and back again but saw no reason for the animal's behavior until the small trees before her rustled as a much larger animal drew near…
In an instant, Martin was on her feet and scrambling behind the nearest tree—dropping her camera in the process. The rustling sounds came closer as she tried to keep from breathing to loud.
Tree limbs broke under the weight of the creature as it drew near and Martin's heart nearly jumped into her throat as she fumbled for her radio.
Pressing the button, Martin tried to whisper, "Hello? Is anyone there?" The radio was silent and Martin shook the small device in hopes of making it work.
The creature was closer now—only a few feet away and Martin smacked the radio but to no avail.
Get it together! Her consciousness shouted, and her hand once again shakily found its way to the weapon on her hip. Sliding down to where the tree met the ground, Martin pulled the Zat from her side and activated the device. Taking a quick breath, she stepped out from the tree as a figure emerged from the trees—she didn't hesitate to fire. Martin didn't waste anytime in grabbing her pack and running in the opposite direction as she screamed for help.
X X X
A short distance away, Martin's blood curdling screams for help made Colonel Bedard snap into action and he was running in her direction before she emerged from the tree line, pack in hand running for her life. It took Bedard 3.4 seconds to reach the clearing to reach her.
Almost having to flag her down, Bedard yelled out to her, "Martin!"
Martin wasted no time in changing her trajectory and running right for his position, "Colonel! Help! In the woods! In the woods! It was huge! It was right behind me!" she screamed as her legs moved faster and faster until Colonel Bedard caught her by the vest.
Tightening his grip, Colonel Bedard reached for his radio with his free hand. "Sergeant Tiller—REPORT!" backing away from the tree line, Bedard aimed his weapon at the tree line as he held Martin behind him.
Having heard the screaming, Tiller came back over Bedard's radio within seconds, "Colonel—did I hear screaming?"
Still acting as a shield for Martin, Bedard steadied her as he yelled into his radio. "It's Martin—we're one mile north of the gate. Get here NOW."
Tiller's voice came back short and clear. "Roger—out."
Satisfied with their distance from the tree line, Bedard dropped his radio and set Martin down in the grass to calm her down. "Breath Martin, you just have to breath," Bedard said, reaching for his radio again, "Connelly—REPORT!" There was no answer. "CONNELLY! REPORT!" Silence was the only reply. With panic rising in his throat, Bedard yelled over and over into his radio until he saw Sergeant Tiller run out from the trees.
With a keen eye on the tree line behind Tiller, Bedard pulled Martin to her feet. "Connelly isn't answering his radio," he said, as Tiller came to a halt behind him.
"Sir, no sign of the Lieutenant on my way in," Tiller said, as he watched Martin stand behind Bedard as though he were her only defense from the evil of the world.
Without a word, Bedard turned to Martin and took her Zat. "Anything comes out of the woods that isn't us--" he said, shoving the Zat into her hand, "you shoot it, understood?"
Martin nodded slowly and mustered the strength to speak, "Yes, Colonel."
Resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment, Bedard nodded quickly and turned to Tiller. Pausing for a moment, Bedard palmed his rifle and clicked off the safety. "Let's go get em'," he said, breaking into a sprint with Tiller at his side.
X X X
Shaky fingers gripped an unfamiliar weapon as fear and doubt waged a war within Martin. Raw fear tore at her nerves as Martin dug her feet into the ground and fought against the voice screaming within her to run for the gate. Her free hand tightened into a fist and Martin forced her self to watch Colonel Bedard and Tiller as they ran for the trees. But as the two men stopped dead just short of the tree line, a knot formed in Martin's stomach, this isn't happening…this can't be happening.
X X X
Standing at the edge of the forest, Sergeant Tiller had to take a second look at the figure coming towards him and as it came into focus--he lowered his weapon and in one second it was all clear…all of it. "Uhm, Colonel…" Tiller said as a dazed Lt. Connelly stumbled toward them through the shadows of the trees.
Colonel Bedard lowered his weapon and covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh. It was obvious…very obvious what had happened.
Stumbling through the underbrush of the forest, Connelly rested against a tree as he looked over to Colonel Bedard and Tiller, "I'm going to kill Doctor Martin."
Bedard tried not to smile as he looked over to Sergeant Tiller, "I think we found Martin's creature—head back to the gate and dial us home. And I uh—get Martin through the gate, I'll see to the Lieutenant."
"Yes, Sir." Tiller took no time in turning and running back for Martin.
X X X
As Tiller emerged from the trees, Martin raised her weapon at him and dropped it seconds later.
"Come on, let's get back to the gate," Tiller said, not stopping as he picked up her pack and handed it to her before pulling her arm after him as he headed for the gate.
"What happened? Did you find it?" she asked, strapping on her pack as they ran for the gate. "Do we have to call for reinforcements?"
Tiller didn't stop running. He was debating on whether or not to tell Doc who her creature turned out to be—maybe he would just wait until after they got back to Earth…
Chapter Nine
Back on Earth, Tiller had handed off Martin's weapon and taken her right to the infirmary—maybe she had fallen and hit her head. That would be her only excuse for shooting Lieutenant Connelly.
"She's fine Sergeant," Doctor Smith said, as he looked over her chart one last time, "Just make sure she takes it easy for the rest of the day."
Tiller glanced at Martin out the corner of his eye and looked back to the doctor, "Will do Doc." The doctor walked back to his office but Tiller kept his feet planted. How in the world was he going to smooth this over?
X X X
With her gear stowed, Tiller escorted Martin back to her room.
"So, I'll come and get you for the debrief. It'll be a few hours so take a shower and get some sleep," Tiller said, once again, stopping at her door way as she walked in.
Doctor Martin nodded and through for a moment, something didn't seem right. "You know. I still don't understand how I got lost. I mean, you were there and then—" As she spoke a flash of guilt washed over Tiller and it caught her attention, "Oh my god." She said flatly as she walked back to the doorway.
She had closed the distance between them and Tiller stepped back into the hallway. "What?" He asked, innocently as he checked the hallway for passersby.
"You did it on purpose." It was an accusation, not a question.
"Did what on purpose?"
She had him now and suddenly everything was making an odd sort of sense as a fire began to burn in Martin's eyes as she stepped out into the hall and up to Sergeant Tiller. "I thought it was my fault, that I just screwed up again—but I didn't get lost did I? You left me."
"Uh no—"
Scoffing in disgust, Martin looked down to the ground as she saw the entire scene before her. "Some stupid hazing antic cause I'm not military—right? I can't hack it so you screw me our first time off world. Try to get me kicked off the team?"
As Doctor Martin spoke her voice grew louder and louder. It only made Tiller nervous and he took her by the shoulders as he spoke, "That's not what happened." Tiller said, backing her into the room.
With all her strength, Martin shoved him away and moved to the corner of the room as if he were going to hurt her. Tiller froze and held up his hands before kicking the door shut behind him. "Then what did happen!" She screamed.
"You shot the Lieutenant!" As soon as he said it, Tiller bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say it like that, he wanted it to be funny, something she could laugh about later—god knows the whole command was already laughing about it.
"I WHAT?" Martin asked, barely able to speak over the lump in her throat.
Watching her, he thought she might cry for a moment. Then she fell silent. He knew he had to explain a bit more. "Alright look, the thing you thought was after you, it wasn't a monster. It was Lieutenant Connelly."
As soon as he said it, Martin's eyes shot open. "WHAT? HOW!"
"He was looking for you, after I lost you I called the Colonel and he sent him to help me find you—and you shot him."
"I…I…oh my god—I shot…oh my god, is he alright? I didn't kill him did I?"
"No, he's fine." Tiller said.
Martin sat on the side of her bed and stared at the pattern on the blanket. Again, things fell into place. "Oh my god. This is just the lowest thing you could do." She said, recharged in her accusation.
"What?" Tiller asked, as he back up toward the door again.
Shaking her head, Martin stood and crossed her arms. "You weren't going to tell me where you? You were just going to let me walk into the debrief not knowing what had happened—you were going to let them snowball me weren't you?"
Tiller had to shake his head to try and understand Martin's new point of view, but it still made no sense. "What? No."
"Yes you were," she said, picking up momentum as she reached around Tiller to open the door. "I can't believe I thought you were the nice one. All that crap in the commissary—acting like you wanted to be a friend."
Tiller was lost now. And before he new it Martin had shoved him out into the hall, who knew she was that strong? "Hey, Doc—" he said, reaching out for the door when she closed it enough that he could only see her face.
"Just leave," she said, closing the door and leaving Tiller standing in the middle of the hallway.
He stammered a moment and thought about storming into her room and setting things straight. But he knew that would only make things worse. Maybe she just needed to cool off. With a sigh, he turned and headed for his own room. But he had to smile at her behavior…maybe she had guts after all…
X X X
Sitting in General's O'Neill's office, Colonel Bedard felt like a Private all over again as he sat across from his Commanding Officer. But to his surprise, General O'Neill wasn't yelling. In fact, he was smiling…
"Look Frank—-bottom line, you messed up. And you are going to have to pay for it. I'm sending you to the out post first thing in the morning. Carter is already out there with Daniel—he can keep an eye on Doctor Martin."
"Yes Sir." He stood without a word and walked out. There was nothing to say that would help the situation—except time.