So! I let you vote and this is what you asked for, so I hope you enjoy it! A new camp story. This will focus more around Ian, Shawn and River than anyone else, so no complaining if you don't like them, okay?
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this story (which is really too bad) and I'm only borrowing the characters from the show. The rest of the people in this story – the made up ones – are mine.
OOOOOOOOOO
Ian tapped on the open door to Hammond's office.
"You wanted to see me, General?"
Hammond looked up from his paperwork and nodded.
"Come in, Ian. Close the door."
The cadet closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk, curious as to what Hammond wanted. This was the first time he'd been called to the general's office – at least by himself. Usually if Hammond wanted to talk to SG-1 he called them to the briefing room.
Hammond watched as the cadet came to his desk, knowing that he was wondering what he was doing there. There were a lot of choices Ian would be able to choose for himself for a career in the Air Force – and probably anywhere with his brains – but he'd never make a politician or an diplomat. He just wasn't good at keeping his feelings out of his expression, and at the moment his eyes were curious.
"Have a seat…"
Ian sat down, but he didn't say anything, waiting to find out what Hammond wanted, and the general knew that he was going to go from curious to annoyed fairly quickly.
"I've been reading some of your year end reviews from your instructors at the Academy," Hammond said, gesturing to the paperwork in front of him. He saw Ian glance at the papers, but the young man didn't say anything. He was curious, but not enough to ask questions, and Hammond knew it was because he knew he'd get the answers soon enough – and wouldn't have to ask.
"Your teachers are very impressed with your intelligence, Ian."
The cadet nodded. That was no surprise to him.
"To be honest," Hammond continued, giving him his due, "so am I – but for an entirely different reason. You've dealt with a lot of crazy things – things that are so far fetched that if I hadn't seen them I wouldn't have believed them – and you still managed to maintain extraordinary grades." He looked down at the papers in front of him, shaking his head. "Did you know that you not only scored higher grades on your exams than all the freshman class, but also higher grades than the sophomores and juniors? And only a few of the seniors scored better than you?"
"Yes, sir."
He did know. He just hadn't thought anyone else would. His advisor had told him.
"You're a remarkable young man," Hammond told him, honestly.
"But…?"
There had to be a catch. Ian could hear it in Hammond's voice.
"But you're lacking in one area that is absolutely essential for offworld work."
Ian didn't say anything, but he did frown, and Hammond knew he was wondering what that meant. The general sighed, and leaned back in his chair, studying the young man in front of him.
"You're great with figures, and facts, and information. What you lack are people skills."
"I have people skills."
Hammond shook his head.
"You're aggressive and belligerent with most people, Ian. Not to mention short-tempered and-"
"Most people are idiots."
"But it's still necessary to deal with them. I realize that you've been put into some difficult situations, where finesse wasn't always the easiest course of action, but there are times – many times – when an offworld officer needs to be able to be… diplomatic."
Ian scowled.
"It's really hard to be diplomatic when someone's shooting at you."
"I know."
"Or when they're trying to get you to make some piece of machinery work that you've never even seen before – all the while holding you hostage."
Which was a reference to the System Lord he'd killed, Hammond knew.
"I understand that things can get difficult offworld, Ian," the general said, nodding. "But you're short tempered with everyone – including those who aren't doing any of that. And not only offworld. Your instructors tell me that you're rude to your fellow classmates," he looked down at the paper in front of him. "Contemptuous is the word that comes up most often, and you-"
"So I don't play nice with the other children…" Ian said, sarcastically. "Big whoop. I don't kiss up to the upper classmen, and I don't put up with the morons who think they can bully me because they've been there longer than I have. I don't hang out with retards who just want to copy my answers, and I don't-"
"That's enough," Hammond said, cutting him off, just barely keeping his own temper in check. "You're too intelligent to be this bad with people, Ian. If you can't work well with strangers, you're never going to make an Air Force officer – and that's a waste of talent that I'm not willing to lose. Luckily, the solution to your problem has presented itself to me just this morning."
Now Ian was watching him suspiciously.
"What do you mean?"
"Starting Monday morning, you're on special assignment to Camp Millcreek."
"What?"
Ian knew all the names of the military bases in the area, and he was pretty sure he hadn't heard of that one.
"Where you will be a counselor."
"A what?"
"Camp Millcreek is a summer camp – the same one that Colonel O'Neill met Shawn Adams at, to be exact. You are going to work on your people skills there, by being a camp counselor for a week."
"What?"
"This is non-negotiable, cadet," Hammond told him. "They're short-handed and could use the help, and you could do with a lesson in people skills."
"General," Ian looked like he was in shock – too surprised to even be angry. "You're making a huge mistake. I can't be a counselor. I don't even like kids."
"Then you'll learn to, won't you?"
"But-"
"You're at one week now, cadet. Would you like to go for two?"
The cadet clamped down on whatever he'd been about to say, and Hammond could see his face getting red, and his eyes going cold. He was getting over the shock quickly, and the fury was setting in. He didn't give him a chance to blow up, though.
"Colonel O'Neill has directions to the camp – you can get them from him. Dismissed."