CHAPTER FOUR

For the next three days the four Lantians were debriefed until the SGC knew every detail about every mission, discovery, screw-up, enemy, ally, death, and incidental action from the Atlantis expedition starting with the instant they stepped through the Stargate right up to the morning that they left to return through the Stargate to Earth. Finally they were finished, though, and the subject of new recruitments had taken over the attention of the four Lantians, the two Generals, and the department heads from within the SGC.

"Okay here's the deal. There is an expected level of cannibalism from SGC personnel. You'll need people with experience and our standing orders have become a lot easier to deal with lately," Landry said. "That said, please remember that the threat in the Pegasus Galaxy is not the only concern we have to deal with, and so I'm asking you to make sure that your people keep that in mind when they start taking away my people."

"Understood," Elizabeth nodded, though she didn't appreciate the implication that the situation was her people versus his people.

"Of course, now that the Atlantis expedition isn't a no-turning-back potential suicide mission, there are a lot more volunteers," Jack put in, friendlier, familiar, and much easier to deal with than the new General, "so you and your people will have more leeway when it comes to the selection process." He checked his watch. "The Pentagon has put Major Davis in charge of the team that is tasked with bringing in the outside resources that you've requested. He should be contacting us soon with a progress report."

Sam, who had been quite since the meeting began, chose that moment to speak. "If I may," she said, glancing at the Generals who both nodded, giving her the floor. "The list of scientists that you want to try to bring into the program. There are some big names on your list, Doctor Weir."

"If you say so. In this particular arena I am simply a messenger. Each department gave me names of people that they thought would be suited to the challenge of life in Pegasus," Elizabeth said.

"I'm not sure you understand my point," Sam said.

"I'm not sure I do either, Colonel," Elizabeth replied.

Sam looked at General Landry who nodded, giving her his permission to continue. "Even if you get the majority of them to sign the one-year contract it is unlikely that you will be able to return to Atlantis with more than a handful of the independent scientists that Major Davis is contacting," Sam said.

"And why is that?" Elizabeth asked.

Landry fielded that one. "Because the mass disappearance of some of the brightest minds on this planet will undoubtedly raise some eyebrows and there is only so far the governments involved will be able to temper the fallout."

Sitting back in her seat, Elizabeth contemplated the other people in the room. She knew that General O'Neill was on her side as long as she didn't actively attempt to get Doctor Jackson to come to Atlantis, and while she would like to have him there for both his expertise and his friendship, she would much prefer allies on Earth with the kind of pull that Jack had. It was hard for her to tell where General Landry was, though she got the impression that he was unhappy with the fact that the United States planned on putting more money and emphasis on the Atlantis expedition than on the SGC itself so Elizabeth found herself feeling wary of him. And Lieutenant Colonel Carter seemed like she was feeling particularly antagonistic toward the Lantian leader, an attitude that Elizabeth didn't understand—they hadn't been close when Elizabeth had run the SGC, but Carter knew that Elizabeth hadn't sought out the position, that she hadn't tried to take General Hammond out of his command, and that, when Vice President Kinsey had lost all influence when he'd 'resigned', Elizabeth had tried to get General Hammond to take the job back, but he had decided that being in charge of Homeworld Security was where he needed to be, which was when Elizabeth had recommended that Jack be given command because she knew that everyone at the SGC trusted him implicitly.

Since she didn't have as many allies in the room as she would have liked Elizabeth opted for the cautious route. "The standing cover story of a scientific expedition of a classified nature should be sufficient, especially now that we have both the Daedalus making regular trips between galaxies and the ZPM to power the 'Gate for regular transmissions to Earth. If anything it should be easier to bring personnel to Atlantis now than it was before since all we're asking for is a one-year contract, rather than the uncertainty of a year ago," Elizabeth said. "Some of the original members of the expedition are willing to return to Earth to continue their work; either to work at the SGC or Area 51, assuming that they get some time with their loved ones before they start their work here, which should help with the cover story's integrity. Right now Atlantis is running with what amounts to a skeleton staff in most areas, and I'm sure we can get by as is for a while, but I'm sure you'll agree that merely getting by is in no way good enough for an endeavour of this magnitude."

When she had been in charge of the SGC, though the few months had been brief, one of Elizabeth's favourite places to spend time was the briefing room overlooking the Gateroom. After spending so many hours in debrief there since returning to Earth, though, Elizabeth found herself wanting to be anywhere but that room.

Once the meeting had broken up Elizabeth decided to go to her second favourite place in the SGC. Several corridors and an elevator ride later Elizabeth rapped her knuckles on the open door. The large room didn't look like she remembered. Artefacts were gone from shelves and the walls were almost completely bare. Books were in various stages of being boxed up, piles scattered on every surface, and empty coffee cups, both ceramic and paper, were sitting all around the archaeologist.

" Elizabeth," Daniel said, looking up from the artefact he was cataloguing. "I heard you were back. How does it feel to be home again?"

"I'll let you know when I get back to Atlantis," Elizabeth said with a small smile.

Daniel returned her smile. "I remember that feeling. It's disorienting, the feeling that the planet you were born on isn't truly home anymore. When I first came back from Abydos… it was Earth that was alien to me. It's amazing how quickly things like that can shift."

"It really is," Elizabeth agreed. She let her eyes wander around the room that was, for the first time she could remember, startlingly brightly lit. "You going somewhere?" she asked, pointing to the boxes that were taped up and labelled carefully, then to the boxes that were half packed or completely empty and waiting to be filled.

For a second Daniel frowned, confused, then comprehension struck and he smiled and nodded. "To Atlantis," he said in answer to her question. Then, a beat later, he added, "That is, of course, assuming that you want me there."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at Daniel. "General O'Neill is letting you go?"

"Hardly," Daniel chuckled. "General Hammond made it one of his last orders of business before he officially retired. Jack's just given up trying to fight it—probably because no one else on SG-1 is staying here so keeping me here is pretty pointless." He shrugged. "The Goa'uld are more or less gone, and those that are still out there don't have any power to speak of. I joined the SGC to find Sha're, then to find her son, and then… well, then I lost focus for a while, but after I came back from my time in what Jack likes to call 'Oma-Land', I stayed to defeat the Goa'uld."

"Well, job well done," Elizabeth said honestly. "So, nothing keeping you here?"

Daniel shrugged again. "It's kinda the end of an era around here right now. Sam's about to head off to Area 51 to head up R-and-D, and Teal'c is mostly living on Dakara right now with the Free Jaffa Nation, and Jack is only in town right now to deal with you guys."

"And you're coming to Atlantis," Elizabeth said.

"Only if the leader of the expedition wants me there. She has yet to say anything to the positive or the negative about that one, which, I've gotta say, is kinda annoying," Daniel said, mostly teasing.

She had wanted Daniel to join the original expedition but Jack had been very firm in his denial of that request, and Elizabeth had to admit that she could see why. Daniel and Jack, though not as close as they once had been, were still best friends, brothers, and Jack had already left Daniel on one alien planet knowing there was no way home. Sending him to Atlantis with the first expedition would have been tantamount to the same thing, only worse because at least on Abydos Daniel had had a family, albeit new and slightly awkward. He had people to take care of him. And, while Elizabeth knew that Jack had known that Daniel would have been taken care of on Atlantis, too, Elizabeth also knew the desire to protect the ones you loved, to protect the people who were your family, not by blood, but by something that was, in a way, almost stronger.

Now, of course, Atlantis had a ZPM, making 'Gate travel from Atlantis to Earth possible, if limited. There was also the Daedalus that would be making regular trips between galaxies. The prospect of allowing loved ones to go to a galaxy far-far away was less daunting once there was the possibility of that loved one coming back.

Elizabeth suddenly found herself unable to keep the smile off her face. "I can't wait to show you around Atlantis, Daniel. You're going to love it." She smiled brightly. "It's absolutely amazing. There are times when I can actually feel the city vibrating." She blushed. "Of course, the massive whale-like creatures that live in the ocean under Atlantis probably have something to do with that, but I like to think that the city is alive."

"I can't wait to see it," Daniel grinned.

"It's great that you get to come with us this time," Elizabeth said as she hopped up on the counter in the middle of Daniel's lab. "Our only archaeologist is completely out of her depth when it comes to Ancient artefacts—I honestly don't know how she got the slot. Your expertise is going to be… well… perfect."

"But no pressure, right?" Daniel smirked.

Elizabeth blushed. "Sorry. I've just been trying so hard to keep my archaeologist from going insane while doing a lot of her work myself. It'll be nice to not have to worry about doing the work of other departments. I might actually get my own work done from time to time."

The rapping of knuckles on the door brought John's head out of the SG team files that it had been suggested (read: ordered) by Jack O'Neill that John familiarize himself with the SGC protocol for offworld interaction. Just because his file said that he had a history of disobeying or disregarding orders didn't mean he didn't take any of them, especially from people who had earned his respect, and, from stories that he had heard from multiple sources—Sam, Elizabeth, Rodney, the Marines that had served with or under General Jack O'Neill—as well as from the conversation that they had had in the helo that day when he found out more than he had frankly been ready to know about what the USAF was doing in Colorado, John truly respected Jack O'Neill, and not in the 'he is a General so I have to' way but in the 'he worked his way through the ranks doing the jobs no one wanted and he is an amazing leader and soldier and about ten or fifteen years ago he was me' kind of way that doesn't fade with time. The only thing that John could honestly say he didn't like about Jack O'Neill was the hockey thing, though he was wise enough not to say anything—Sam had told him what Jack did to people who put down his precious hockey games.

So, orders (suggestions that were really orders) in hand, John had talked to the short Master Chief Sergeant in the Control Room, since he seemed to know everything there was to know—which, John quickly found out, was true, even to the point of a slightly alarming psychic thing that, quite frankly, creeped John out a little—and half an hour later he had had ten months worth of SG mission files, carefully boxed up in crates that were labelled with dates, times, planetary designations, and, on some, the Goa'uld that had been eliminated (the last written in bright red permanent marker with a smiley face next to it) delivered to his quarters. The rest were ready when he wanted them, if he wanted them, and he was given the extension for someone who would bring the next load up and take the first load away. He'd started with the beginning, with the first mission to Abydos, then the second mission to Abydos a year later, and was mid-way through the alternate reality mirror debacle.

And he was about two seconds from ripping his own hair out.

The SG-1 files were interesting, though he found his blood boiling whenever he came across the updated list of injuries that Sam had sustained. The other SG teams had a few interesting exploits, some discoveries that he had made note of for further exploration later, but, really, SG-1 was the team that caught his attention the most, and not just because reading the files was helping him figure out what his oldest friend had been doing for the past eight years or so.

"Come in," John said after far too long—he had tried, unsuccessfully, to open the door with his mind, the way he could on Atlantis, delaying his response. He had also walked around in the dark for two minutes before realizing that he would have to flick the lights on himself, too, and that there was nothing he could do about the temperature in the room that, back on Atlantis, adjusted itself to his preference automatically.

The door opened slightly but no one came in. "You're not doing anything dirty, are you? 'Cause it took you a while to answer and, even though I've seen all you've got to show, I'm not overly eager to see it again," Sam said through the crack in the door.

"Get your ass in here, Samantha," John groaned. The door opened completely and the blonde came inside. "What's up?"

"I, uh, well, see, the thing is that today… I was a bit of… well, I was a major bitch to Elizabeth in the meeting earlier about the number of people she wants to be sent to Atlantis this time… and I feel really crappy about it. So… I know that you know her, that you're pretty good friends with her, and I was wondering if there was a way for me to… to make things right. Because, well, we work together and she's your boss and she's a good person and I've never really given her the credit she deserves, and I want to fix that. So I'm here looking for advice. Which is not exactly in character for me, and it's been a long time since I've come to i you /i for advice—it's been a long time since I've even seen you, but that's neither here nor there. The point is that I need your advice."

"Yeah, that much is obvious," John said with a soft smile.

Sam frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're babbling, Samantha. You only do that when you're either so exhausted that you can't see straight or when you are so thrown by something that you're completely out of your depth. Since you don't look like the living dead—which you tend to when you've reached that state of exhaustion where your eyes start crossing—I'm going to say it's the latter," John said. "And Elizabeth doesn't hold grudges. You're right. She's a good person. Just be straight with her, say your piece, try not to babble too much, and, above all else, be completely honest. Honesty is a big thing for her."

"Okay. Thanks," she said. Sam looked around, arching an eyebrow at the boxes of files that took up most of the free space in his tiny quarters. "So, uh, what's going on here? Are quarters on Atlantis so small that you felt the overwhelming desire to fill all the extra five square feet in here with stuff so you'd feel more at home?"

"No. my room on Atlantis is… nice. Right on the water—though, really, everything is right on the water, so that's not much of a claim, there. Big windows, nice balcony, great view of the sunrise. About three times the size of this dank little cell," John said.

Smiling softly, Sam nodded. "We turned the tiny dorms from when this facility was a missile silo into guest quarters when we first started out. Believe me, this is a major improvement from the metal-frame bunk beds that used to be in here." She looked at the boxes again. " Mission files?" she inquired.

"Yeah. I'm, uh, familiarizing myself with SGC protocols. Since, you know, I was sorta added to the guest list at the last second," he explained. He shrugged. " Elizabeth's tried to drill it all into my head, but… not so successful."

Sam shook her head. "Seriously, John, it took us a long time to get protocols and rules in place that were, quite literally, universal. There is a reason that they exist."

"Hey, it's not like I planned on being military commander of the expedition," John protested. "Colonel Sumner was supposed to take care of rules and stuff. My job description was… well, fairly undefined, but it's not like there was a great span of time between Elizabeth offering me the job and the first time I actually stepped through the 'Gate. Speaking of which, why didn't I see you when I was here back then?"

"SG-1 was on stand-down while Daniel was in Antarctica so Teal'c went to spend some time with his son and I was on the Alpha Site with my dad, working on some experiments," Sam said.

"Ah," John nodded. He frowned. "Your dad knows about the program?"

Sam glanced at the file that John was reading. "You'll get to that mission soon enough."

"Give me the Readers Digest version," John said.

"Dad was sick—cancer. We met a race of aliens that… it's kinda hard to explain, but they—the Tok'ra—evolved from the Goa'uld thousands of years ago. They're the good guys, really. Dad became a Tok'ra. He… he was host to Selmac, one of the oldest and wisest of all the Tok'ra."

John frowned. "Was?" he echoed gently. Sam nodded. "What happened?"

"Selmac was dying. Normally Selmac would have just left her host, but dad was helping us fight Anubis and he thought that we'd need Selmac… by the time the fight was over… it was too late. When Selmac died… dad died, too," Sam said. John dropped the file he was reading and stood up, pulling Sam into his arms. She sank into his embrace willingly, grateful for the familiar scent and feel of her oldest friend. "I'm sorry," Sam said softly, "it's just… it was only a few weeks ago… it's still so fresh… and we had finally developed a relationship, a real relationship, and then… then he's just gone."

"Oh, Samantha, I'm so sorry," John whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

TBC...

Love it? Hate it? Let me know.