Chapter 13 - Almost there
"I guess someone was still trying the infamous divide and conquer with you," Malcolm said.
"Well, I suppose. Not that it would work for us after all that time," Jack shrugged.
"We lost important parts of our family lives, but we understood the risks and consequences before we jumped into it," Sam explained.
"The risks and consequences were far better than settling for less," they smiled, and Malcolm nodded.
"Huh, I just realized, this was the first time you were without the kids, Sam?" Malcolm asked.
"No," she stated.
"We often ended up on the Hak'tyls world or at Sakkara, depending on who was available whenever her mission was scheduled," Alex explained. "We also passed two months alone at Gamma while mom took command of the Hammond. Alone as in not with mom or dad, there were a couple of scientists there that treated us like we were their kids. Anyhow, being apart was something we were used, not that it made it easier. To tell you the truth, I am jealous of my brothers and sisters. Starting from Piper, they all got the chance to grow up at a full home. For me, it was different; we had a standard home one year before I left for the Academy."
"So, it affected you?" Malcolm asked her.
"No," Alex shook her head. "Am I jealous of them? Yes. Did it affect me? No. I can't say I regret a moment of my life. I value what they did. If they didn't do it that way, we wouldn't be here today. None of us would."
"Do you feel the same?" Sam asked, with a smile without taking her eyes off Alex.
"Yes," Terran's voice came from behind Malcolm, "I love every second of my life. But, sometimes, I look at the young ones and think of the what if's. However, as Alex said, if you didn't do it that way, we wouldn't be here, so it's easy to deal with it. And who wouldn't love to end up in an all-woman world?" he smirked, and they all laughed.
"Remember that first interview we got to go with dad?" Alex asked.
"Yeah, dad was... dad," Terran laughed.
2019
"Mr. O'Neill, we heard you are married, but we are yet to meet your wife, are we getting the honor soon?" the journalist asked him.
"Only if I win," Jack smiled. "She is currently unavailable… To the press, that's it."
"Is she abroad?" she tried again.
"Well, you could say that," Jack agreed, thinking 'abroad' could include easily out of the planet and way on her way to another galaxy.
"Mr. O'Neill, are you avoiding my questions?" the journalist asked, chuckling.
"No, I am answering them; you just don't like the way I do it," he smiled. "Sorry, I had plenty of practice doing this under more severe conditions. To tell you the truth, not even those guys in the back can scare me to answer things I don't want to or don't believe are right."
2050
"Yeah. I usually would avoid all kinds of questions. See, it had lots of practice over the years. Journalist, well, you guys are not as scary as half of the people who questioned us," Jack grinned.
"For some reason, people loved his way of doing things. He answered controversial questions out of experience or out of his point of view," Alex completed.
"What about you, Sam?"
"Well, while he was having a blast, I had my political share…"
2019
The departure of the IVANHOE was on schedule. The interstellar trip started, and the crew, along with the new members, joined for a brief introduction. Quarters were assigned, and recon tours were given. While this happened, one General Carter was escaping into the Engines Room to check on her latest baby (invention wise).
With the passing of the days, the presence of a blonde young woman didn't go unnoticed. The woman would join the political team at every meeting and tour. She would explain ship functions with an ease that most of the scientist aboard still lacked, and she would share her day with politicians and staff alike.
"Who is she, anyway?" a brown-haired woman asked her companion.
"I heard she is the security officer for the crew we got stuck with," the other woman said.
"Holy cow! That's the babysitter?" the brown-haired one asked.
"That's what I heard."
"You heard well then," came a voice behind their backs. Soon the same woman who they were talking about was running on the treadmill next to them, "I'm Sam," she said, turning to smile to the pair. "Just, Sam…"
"Ok, Sam. Huh, aren't you too young to be a security officer?"
"Not really, I just look younger than I am."
2050
"It took us the better part of a month to get to Ida. Where some meetings with the Asgard Council were held."
2020
Sam walked down the Ivanhoe and towards the platform where the Asgard waited for them.
"Samantha Carter, no one alerted us to your presence in the group."
"Councilor Adalsteinn," Sam greeted him. "I wasn't sure I would get this far. How's Councilor Brynja?"
"She's in excellent health; we still have to thank you and," she placed a hand over his forearm to stop him.
"Please, don't mention my family," she whispered. Adalsteinn nodded quietly.
"Your dumb Ideas, the last one was exceptional for our Race."
"So I have been told," a clear of a throat interrupted the exchange.
"Councilor Adalsteinn, let me introduce you to some fine members of our Government," she added, and presentations started.
2050
"Then halfway on our returning trip, and thankfully, close enough to Gamma Site, I got a call," Sam said.
"See, the Furlings received communication that someone was going behind the Ivanhoe; they called Earth to let us know since they couldn't reach the ship."
2020
"Carter," Jack's face appeared on the screen of the treadmill she was using.
"Jack?" she said without stopping running.
"Is anything wrong? Are you under attack or something?" he wondered.
"Nope! Just running… You called me, and they passed it to the gym."
"Uh. At least it gives a nice view," Jack grinned mischievously.
"Jack," she said and arched a brow.
"Ok, ok!" he raised his hands in surrender. "You have to have something in here I can use like on Atlantis?"
"Yes. Go to the search and find SJC. Open it and add the standard user and password; you know that one, right?"
"Yup got it! Should I press the huge play button then?" she nodded. "You did it for dumbs, didn't you?" he rolled his eyes playfully.
"No. I just husband proofed it," she grinned.
"Ha, ha. I miss you, Sam. The kids miss you. Hell! The country misses you."
"I miss you too," she smiled.
"Supposedly, this conversation isn't recorded," he said.
"Yeah, well, still, I feel safer when we scramble it," Sam added.
"Me too. Ok, huge stop button, right?" he grinned, and she nodded. She saw him moving stuff around, and soon he looked business-like, and she stopped running. "Listen, Carter; we got a call from our not so furry friends. It seems you have some ship tagged to you six."
"Did they say what kind of ship?"
"They didn't know much. They got an alert that you passed by, and then someone else passed too, and whoever it was, it was too close to their liking. You know them…"
"Yeah. Did you got any instructions?"
"No, I only got to contact you because they encrypted the message for my eyes only."
"I see. Go to the search button and look for the recorder," she looked at herself and sighed. It wasn't her most professional look. Her hair was in a ponytail; her T-shirt was starting to show sweat spots; her face was red and sweaty.
"It's saving," Jack announced.
"This is Carter. We got the information that we are being followed by an unrecognized alien ship. We are four days away from the Gamma Site. According to the latest information from the Gamma site, their cloaking device is working. We will stop there, and hope it doesn't follow us. If it does, the Gamma site has enough defenses to take care of the situation."
"Wouldn't that risk Gamma Site location?" Jack asked.
"Once we leave hyperspace, we will cloak the Ivanhoe; and approach that way to the cloaked planet. Therefore, they shouldn't be able to follow unless they have an anti-cloaking device or something that can point to us even when cloaked."
"Worst case scenario?"
"They land on the Gamma Site; we leave no survivors. We take the ship to another planet with Stargate, and the pilot can then gate back to Earth. End of message."
2050
"What happened?
"Well, we landed on the gamma site, and they didn't follow. We forewarned the gamma site. Thanks to my rank, it was easy to order them to send a couple of 302's to the closest planet. The 302's made radio contact, and we found out, it was someone who was following the Ivanhoe to see if we could show him and his family to a habitable planet, which we kindly did," Sam explained.
"Did you find out of the results of the Election while on Ivanhoe?" Malcolm asked.
"Yes, a video message was sent when the final count finished. It wasn't surprising, though. Many of the people there said they would've voted for Jack if they were on Earth during the elections. Anyhow, since things were solved easily, we were back earlier, and I was thrilled because I would be there for his Inauguration Day."
"And?"
"Well, everything I planned went to the sink from an out of Earth call."
2020
I've just parked the Ivanhoe in Earth's orbit, taking into account all the satellites and the crap that we managed to put up there, there's no better place than hiding it in plain sight. Anyway, as I was saying, I've parked the Ivanhoe on-orbit after another two-and-a-half-week on that tin can. And yes, I know, I've spent more time on tin cans, before but the issue was that this one was full of politicians. There's no crappier mission than a babysitting one.
After beaming all of them to a "secret facility" where they were "being trained" on something, I don't care to remember. Because it sounded like a cover, and trust me, I've spent half of my life under the 'deep space radar telemetry' crap.
Anyhow, they got beamed down; we did a full security check on the ship. Then full scans, then full scans over the full scans for safety reasons. And after that, I got a nice shower, grabbed my duffel bag, and beamed myself out. Or down. Whatever…
Down at the facility, I got changed into clothes to go home; you know, it is February 17th. I am heading to DC and sure thing; I don't plan to do all that length in my skin tight IOA uniform. I really, really want to kill whoever chose that... thing... as a uniform for this trip. But nothing would take the emotion and joy of finally being home after a ten weeks' absence.
But it was short-lived. I was 5 miles away from home when I heard my cell phone ringtone, and no, I do not use the Imperial March on anyone that I care about. So, when the first notes of it started to sound, I knew I was doomed. Again.
"Carter," I answer shortly.
"General Carter?"
"If you called to General Carter's cell phone and I answer, 'Carter… you think there are any doubts about who I can be?"
"Sorry, ma'am. I am new here; I'll just..."
"Don't worry. I'm driving, so can you patch it through?" Hearing some shifting, I flinched half-expecting to hear one of the top brass voices.
"Sam," I sigh.
"Don't Sam-me, Cameron. What's the issue? And what the hell are you doing there?"
"Damn! You are cranky. I was beamed here to explain the situation," Mitchell offered.
"Which is?"
"Well, we need you back at SGC ASAP," he said.
"No way."
"Sam, I'm calling you because I knew you would be mad, they knew you would be mad. If you don't come, then you will get the orders from the Joint Chiefs themselves."
"Some times I wonder why they picked me as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff if I keep getting orders to here and there," she huffed. "So, what happened?"
"Well, SG2 got to a place where they have these cool guns, meds, and awesome rocks too. They are willing to trade," he trails, and I am about to ask what's the catch when he continues. "However, they will only deal with Sam Carter or Jack O'Neill; the Tau'ri's from SG-1."
"Do you remember the last time something like that happened?" I ask with a sigh.
"Well, you came back looking great, and so did O'Neill. I don't think we would be about to have such a young-looking President if you weren't ordered to go there," Cam chuckled.
"Can't it be postponed?" I sighed.
"This is the post-postposition. It's that even a word? SG-2 got there a month ago, and we told them we were returning with the answer. Two days ago, give it or take a few hours, we told them you were busy. They might have overheard me saying you would be back tomorrow, and so they gave us three days to bring you there. They told me… through the gate, not that I went there, that if you don't show up, they will connect our incoming wormhole to another address. I don't even know if that's possible, but sounded scary."
"When they said that, did it gave you the impression of a bypass on their wormhole? Or connecting our Stargate to another God only knows where in the galaxy?" I ask.
"I… geez. I don't know. See, that is part of the reason you are needed here. I do not understand half of the technobabble which seems to pour out of the scientists here, and when you call, and it sounds so simple. It's the practice, right? Are all those years having to re-explain everything to the former General O'Neill? Anyway, I managed to say something, and it was that, once you are there, they will have 48 hours to get whatever they want from you; then, they will have to deal with SG14 or SG21 depending on who is available for the next meeting. So, if you get here by tomorrow, you will be back just in time for, well, I guess the ball or something. "
"Well, Ivanhoe is in orbit. I probably will be there in an hour or so. Before you say anything, no, it doesn't give me enough time to get dirty with my husband. It will give me enough time to unload my duffel bag, reloaded it with no-IOA uniforms, and let my family know that I will be gone… again. I'll arrange my trip to the SGC and find you when I am there," I tell him.
"Thanks, Sam… the Galaxy owes you yet another one," Cam adds, sounding a bit relieved, and I can't help but let a huff out.
The front yard of my home is full of cameras and people, the perks of being the wife of the future Commander-in-Chief. So, I go around the block (and thanking Jack's obsession with woods in the back,) I kill the engine and make my way through our lovely backyard trail. I grab my cell and wait for him to pick up.
"Sam. ETA?" he asks.
"5 minutes. Are you home?"
"I'll open the back door for you."
"Jack…" I say.
"What's wrong?"
"Can you get someone to park my car later? I'll take the Indian. Well, here is when I make my run," I said to him before ending the call. I'm two trees away to get to our lovely and clean yard. (Well, beautiful and full of scattered toys; you know the perks of having kids). For what I know, the paparazzi have been parked outside the front forever now. Since before Jack came here to stay with the kids for the first time in forever, three months ago.
Family, for us, is a strange concept. It's to know that somewhere in this galaxy or another one; someone is dying to see us no matter how long passed since the last time. I mean, we got pretty good at inter-galaxy relationships.
The coast is clear, and I catch the door opening, and I can't help but hold my breath when I see him. Butterflies are back and strong as hell. So, I run for my life (and really, I've done that before, so yes; I know what it is like) with a smile plastered on my face; I jump the back stairs two steps at the time and hurry inside and into a long-overdue hug. We somehow manage to close the door before kissing and man! This man knows how to kiss. It's only when the need for air becomes a necessity again that we let go… and I know that along with happiness, I also have guiltiness written all over my face.
"What's up?" he asks.
"I got a call from Cam. I'm going to SGC for a briefing and a 48-hour long mission. I swear I'll do anything in my hands to wrap it up as fast as I can, but I don't have more choices than that." I can see he has the same need to kill someone as I do. "Jack, talk to me…"
"It's," he sighs. "You know, every time we are about to live together, something shitty happens."
Yeah, and he is right.
"I know. But it is the last mission for a while; they need me here for the next month and a half. You know someone has filled my agenda with a bunch of balls and stuff to go, and you can't have a Presidential ball without a First Lady, you know? " We grin at ourselves like the foolish lovesick idiots that we are for a while. Then we snap again.
"Are the kids home?"
"What time are you leaving?"
That's us ladies and gentlemen; if we don't complete each other phrases, then we talk at the same time!
"No, they went to the movies or something with The Jackson's."
"As soon as I unload and reload my duffel bag. Good, I'll try to be on time. Don't tell the kids I came by; there's no need to make them suffer again on goodbyes."
"Taking a flight?" he asks.
"Taking a beam. I have to call Ivanhoe to ask them for a beam for me and my bike. I need to drive it out for a while; otherwise, I could kill someone."
"Yeah! I know the feeling."
He joins me in our room while I go around taking stuff out of my duffel and putting things in. There's not much I need to carry, I know I still have my BDU's, and all the required stuff back in my room at the SGC. Well, at "our room."
Since they needed the rooms, they kept two VIP rooms for us (as in the first SG-1), because somehow at least one of us ends there once a month.
Then, I call the ship to get all arranged and check the weather back in Colorado. Surprisingly, it's way hotter than here. So, I change to skin-tight jeans and boots and a tank top and a leather jacket. Jack kisses me and tells me I look hot, and if we had a little more time, we could do something above PG rating. We laugh and have some quick lunch, and then it comes again.
The goodbye.
Even though we've been doing this since we got married, it doesn't get easier with time. We both know goodbyes are like band-aids, and you have to take them quick. So we kiss, and afterward, Jack accompanies me to the garage where my Indian lays dormant. I give him a quick kiss, before I turn the bike around, so it faces the outside, and with practiced ease, I mount it. He waits as I put gloves and the helmet on before opening the garage doors. Immediately, a cloud of shining lights appears, and no, it isn't the beam; it's the paparazzi.
They still don't know who I am, and they still are trying very hard to find out. We have known this would happen since Jack accepted to be a candidate. But, as I know my front yard layout by heart thanks to an excessive amount of pictures of it, I throw myself forward and take the first out I can find. I know that, if I turn my head to look back, I'll see a couple of crazy guys who had the nerve to follow me.
As predicted, I get to the extraction point with two of them right on my tails. I enter the marked warehouse, and once I am inside, and they are not, someone closes the doors, and the next thing I know is that both my bike and I are standing in the Ivanhoe dock.
"General," the Colonel in charge says to me as I am taking out my helmet.
"Colonel, thanks for the help," I say as we walk to the beam control.
"Not a problem, General. Where do you want us to beam you now?"
"Can you beam me out here?" I say, pointing to a wooded area in Colorado, which is 80 miles from Cheyenne. The Colonel nods at me, and soon, I'm standing in the middle of an old road. I look around, and it seems to me not a day has passed since the last time I've been here.
I smile, put my helmet back on, and proceed to kill the excess of stress on the road to Cheyenne.