The first thing Sam noticed about Cheyenne Mountain was the heightened security. She was used to secure buildings, but the guards stationed at every turn, the numerous ID checkpoints, and the silent efficiency of the personnel here took "secure" to another level. Her usual comfort in knowing the standard procedures felt out of place; here, every glance seemed to measure her presence, weighing her against the secrets she was about to uncover.
As she and Jack approached the entrance, she followed him through a long corridor lined with cameras, reaching a pair of steel doors that led to a small, starkly lit waiting area. A guard scanned her ID again, nodding curtly before pressing a button that revealed another set of doors. Inside, a wide freight elevator waited. Sam held back her surprise at the thought of descending deep into the mountain.
Jack, noting her hesitation, gave her a half-smile.
"It's a hell of a commute, but you get used to it."
The elevator doors closed with a clang, and they began their descent, the walls humming as the elevator sank deeper and deeper. Sam could feel the weight of the mountain above them as the air grew cooler, and her stomach knotted slightly. This wasn't just another office building; every floor that passed reinforced that knowledge. This world was removed from everything else—a self-contained secret hidden in the Colorado landscape.
After a long descent, the elevator finally opened onto another hallway, bustling with personnel. Military uniforms mingled with civilian clothing, scientists and officers moving in and out of labs, their eyes down or focused on clipboards as they passed. The entire place thrummed with a purpose she couldn't quite define but felt in every hurried step, every muted conversation.
As they stepped off the elevator, a tall, solid, bald man in dress blues with a commanding presence approached them. His eyes were warm, but his expression wasserious. Jack straightened, giving a nod of respect.
"General Hammond," he greeted.
The general nodded back, then turned to Sam.
"Dr. Carter, welcome to the SGC. I'm George Hammond. I understand this wasn't exactly part of your plan, but I'm grateful you're here."
Sam extended a hand, offering a polite smile despite her lingering fatigue.
"Thank you, General. I'm… curious to see what's made my presence so urgent."
Hammond's expression softened a bit.
"I understand you're still recovering. Our CMO, Dr. Fraiser, will ensure you're fit for duty."
At that, a petite woman in a white lab coat stepped forward, her short brunette hair framing a face that was both friendly and no-nonsense. She offered Sam a hand with a quick, appraising glance that seemed to assess her in an instant.
"Dr. Carter," the woman greeted, her voice warm but professional. "I'm Dr. Janet Fraiser, Chief Medical Officer here. We'll get you checked out and see what we're dealing with."
Sam shook her hand, sensing the intelligence behind the doctor's calm demeanor.
"Nice to meet you, Doctor," Sam replied, a slight cough escaping her. "Thank you for accommodating me on short notice."
Janet nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"It's what we're here for. And don't worry, I know the last thing anyone wants is to be a patient, but we'll get you through it as quickly as possible."
Hammond gave them both a nod.
"Very well. Dr. Fraiser, if you could take Dr. Carter for the preliminary checkup, we'll handle her orientation afterward. Colonel O'Neill, you're with me."
Jack gave Sam a quick nod, his expression unreadable, and followed Hammond down a corridor alongside someone she had already met. He gave Sam a friendly nod before talking with Jack and the general.
"Dr. Daniel Jackson," Hammond explained as they walked away, and Sam noted his easy rapport with Jack, wondering what role he played in all this.
Janet motioned for Sam to follow her in the opposite direction, down a long corridor with more labs and offices. As they walked, Sam noted the bustling, muted energy everywhere. The personnel were focused, efficient, and intense, each person seemingly tied to some higher purpose she hadn't yet been made aware of. It was a bit overwhelming.
Janet observed her reaction with a faint smile. "I know. It's a lot to take in."
Sam managed a wry smile in return.
"This place…it's like another world. Everything here feels…significant."
Janet nodded, her expression knowing.
"It is. What we do here—what you'll be part of, at least for now—goes beyond standard research or protocols. It changes how you see things. Hopefully, once you're feeling better, you'll see exactly what I mean."
They reached the infirmary, a modest but efficiently organized area with several beds, monitors, and a wall lined with medical equipment. Janet motioned for Sam to sit on one of the beds and sat beside her, pulling out a small flashlight.
"Alright, Dr. Carter, let's take a quick look," Janet said, inspecting Sam's throat and checking her vitals with the ease of experience.
Sam cleared her throat, wincing slightly.
"So, Dr. Fraiser, how long have you been here?"
"Janet," she corrected, smiling. "Long enough to know the difference between a normal day and a 'we're-all-in-danger' day."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Danger? Is that common?"
Janet gave a short laugh, the warmth in her eyes fading just slightly.
"More than I'd like to admit. And with this Tok'ra situation, we may be on the brink of something even bigger."
Sam's interest waspiqued, but Janet continued the examination, checking her blood pressure and taking her temperature. Sam could feel the professional distance, but there was also a depth of care in Janet's movements, as if she knew the exact weight of their responsibility.
"You're still running a low-grade fever," Janet said, setting down her instruments. "I'd recommend rest, but from what I hear, rest isn't an option now."
Sam sighed, rubbing her temples.
"No. But if you give the okay, I'll do my best to prepare for the evaluation of Colonel O'Neill."
Janet studied her, a skeptical look in her eyes.
"Are you sure you're up for this? I don't usually clear someone with lingering symptoms but in this case…"
Sam met her gaze with a quiet determination.
"I'll manage. Whatever this program is, whatever it's about, I'm here now. I might as well understand why."
Janet nodded, seeming to understand something beyond the words.
"Alright. But you're to report to me immediately if anything gets worse." She paused, her eyes softening slightly. "Just because this place deals with extraordinary things doesn't mean we can overlook basic health. I want to be clear about that."
Sam smiled, appreciating the doctor's firm stance. "Noted."
Janet finished a few notes on her clipboard, then rose, glancing back at Sam as if evaluating her one last time.
"Let's go. General Hammond will want to debrief you as soon as possible."
As they walked back, Sam's mind swirled with questions. She felt like she was in a place where knowledge came with a price—a price she was only now beginning to understand. Janet's calm professionalism and insight were both a comfort and a reminder of how different this place was from the outside world.
When they reached the briefing room, Sam saw Jack, Hammond, and Daniel seated at a large table covered in files, maps, and other documents. Two other men were seated, and Janet nodded, encouraging as she sat beside Sam.
As Hammond began to speak, Sam took one last look around the room, letting the weight of this new world settle over her. Cheyenne Mountain was more than a base; it was a frontier—one she was standing on the edge of, a stranger in a strange land.
Sam adjusted her blouse, feeling the weight of the journey from Washington D.C. to Colorado Springs on her shoulders. She was recovering from her cold, but the hurried flight and lack of sleep hadn't helped her feel much better.
General Hammond glanced her way.
"Doctor Carter, thank you for coming on such short notice."
"I wasn't left with much choice, General," Sam replied. Her gaze met Jack's, his demeanor unreadable, his professional mask fully in place. It was strange to see him like this, so controlled and focused.
Hammond wasted no time.
"No, you weren't. Our intel suggests potential activity involving the Tok'ra, and we need SG-1 to investigate. Colonel O'Neill, however, still requires your clearance to return to duty."
Sam's pulse quickened, feeling the weight of the moment. She turned her attention to Jack. Despite his stern military stance, she could sense his impatience. He wanted to be out there, leading his team. But she had a duty to evaluate him professionally.
"Colonel O'Neill," Sam began, calm but firm, "this is a critical mission, and I understand your desire to return to the field. But I must be assured that you're fully ready for this."
Jack's jaw tightened.
"Doctor, I'm more than ready. We can't afford to sit on this while the Tok'ra might position themselves as allies or enemies."
Sam kept her gaze steady. She had no idea who the Tok'ra were, but they appeared essential to everyone in the room. "But this isn't just about readiness, Colonel. It's about your resilience, your mental state under pressure."
Jack leaned forward, his eyes flashing.
"With all due respect, Doctor, this isn't my first rodeo, like I told you back in your fancy office. I've faced more than enough to handle whatever's out there."
The tension was electric, drawing the room's attention. Sam held her ground, unwilling to back down under his intensity.
"I don't doubt your experience, Colonel, but my responsibility is to ensure you're fit for command. As I told you before, repeatedly."
Before he could respond, General Hammond intervened.
"Doctor Carter, time is of the essence. If we can clear Colonel O'Neill for duty today, SG-1 will deploy within the hour."
Sam felt the weight of everyone's eyes on her. This decision wasn't just about Jackbut the entire mission and Earth's safety. And Jack knew it, too. His expression softened just a bit, sensing her dilemma.
"Doctor Carter," he said in a low, earnest tone, "I understand the protocol, but trust me when I say—I need to be out there with my team. Earth needs us ready."
The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, piercing through his usual sarcasm and defenses. She glanced around the room, reading the team's faces. They trusted him—perhaps more than she could fully comprehend yet.
Sam nodded slowly.
"Alright, Colonel. But understand that I won't compromise my evaluation because you need to be deployed. If I see any reason to believe you're compromised, I'll report it immediately and not clear you for active duty."
Jack inclined his head, the faintest hint of a smirk forming.
"Understood, Doctor."
General Hammond's voice rang out, cutting through the tension.
"Good. SG-1, prepare to move out once Colonel O'Neill is cleared for duty."
After the briefing, General Hammond cleared his throat, addressing Jack with a firm tone.
"Colonel O'Neill, accompany Doctor Carter now for a full evaluation."
Jack's mouth tightened, but he nodded, glancing briefly at Sam. Janet acted as a guide, and she led them down the corridor into a small, stark evaluation room. It was unadorned, save for a single table, two metal chairs, and a dim wall-mounted light.
"You'll have total privacy here," Janet said as she closed the door.
They each sat across from one another, the clinical setting adding to the air of formality that had returned with her professional hat.
Sam opened a file, glancing down at her notes.
"Alright, Colonel. Let's treat this as your first official evaluation with me. I'll need you to answer a few questions as candidly as possible. These are standard questions, but I want a real sense of your mindset before recommending anything. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," he replied, straightening his posture, his jaw tight with resolve.
She began with her pen poised over her notes. "Let's start with something general. How have you been managing stress since the last mission?"
Jack paused, visibly thinking, then nodded.
"I've been… fine. I keep busy. Routine helps," he answered briefly, though she sensed the words were guarded.
"Fine" wasn't exactly what she was looking for.
"Define 'fine.' Do you experience symptoms of stress outside of work hours? Insomnia, irritability, or lack of concentration?"
He exhaled slowly, and Sam noticed him fidgeting slightly before he responded.
"Well, sleep's never been my strong suit. I wake up early, keep my head down, and get on with it. I guess… I get irritable sometimes, but I keep it in check."
"Have you noticed it affecting your relationships?" she pressed, aware of the sensitivity of this question.
Jack's eyes flickered, his expression tense.
"Not much to affect, Doc. Relationships come second in my line of work." A shadow crossed his face as if he was recalling something painful, but he moved past it swiftly.
Sam nodded, jotting down a note before continuing.
"Alright. Let's discuss your reaction to high-pressure situations. During intense missions, how do you typically respond to fear or moments when the mission may seem unmanageable?"
He hesitated, then leaned back slightly, crossing his arms defensively.
"I focus on the mission. Fear's part of the job, but you can't afford to let it control you. I usually crack a joke, make sure the team's together, and… we keep moving."
"Does humor help? Or is it just another coping mechanism?" She knew this might be a delicate question but pushed forward, aware that insight into his mental state was crucial.
He gave her a half-smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Both, I guess. I mean, it helps keep everyone's nerves steady. And yeah, maybe it's my way of staying grounded. It's better than letting fear get the best of you. Besides, I was trained not to let fear rule me."
She nodded thoughtfully, pausing before her next question.
"And your personal sense of responsibility for the lives of your team members—has that weight ever impacted you negatively? Have there been moments where you feel it too heavily or where it has affected your judgment?"
He looked down, a muscle in his jaw flexing.
"Every life on the team matters to me. If I feel the weight of that, it's only because I never want to fail them. But I'd never let it interfere with my decisions. Not on the field."
He met her gaze, his expression intense. Sam felt the weight of his sincerity, but she sensed there was more behind the response. She scribbled a note, then glanced up again.
"Have you ever regretted your decisions in the field?"
His jaw clenched slightly, and he answered after a tense silence.
"Sure. Some decisions stay with you. But regret can't run the show. You make a choice, and you live with it. And you keep going."
Sam sensed the walls he was holding up, the emotions he chose not to elaborate on. She considered pushing, then decided against it. For now, she needed his current mental stateand sincerity to clear him for the mission.
"Let's talk about anger again," she said, her tone even but probing. "Have you found your temper harder to control since the last mission?"
A flash of frustration crossed his features, but he exhaled, clearly working to stay composed.
"I've been managing it. The last mission didn't go well, but… I deal with it in my way."
"Define 'your way,' Colonel."
"Fishing, if I can swing it," he replied with a wry smile, his eyes softening slightly, betraying a vulnerability she hadn't expected.
She allowed herself a faint smile.
"Fishing seems good for you," she said, softening her tone. Then she pressed further, "But if that option isn't available, how do you process your frustration? Do you keep it to yourself, or do you ever feel the need to release it in… other ways?"
Jack's gaze grew distant, his voice softer.
"I try to keep a lid on it, especially with the team. Sometimes, that's easier said than done, but I'd never let it impact my work. They rely on me to stay solid. And I like to watch the Simpsons."
Sam nodded, absorbing his responses. The man before her was clearly holding a great deal inside, and he seemed to believe his strength lay in keeping it all under control, even if it meant burying his emotions. She could sense the toll it took on him, though he'd never admit it.
"One last question," she said, her voice firm. "If faced with a situation where you were alone and outmatched—say, stranded off-world or whatever you call it—do you feel confident in your ability to maintain focus without support from your team?"
Jack hesitated, his gaze flicking away before returning to meet hers.
"It's not ideal, but yes. I'd focus on the missionandfigure out my next steps. That's what matters. I've done solo operations before for quite some time."
She closed her notebook, folding her hands as she regarded him.
"Thank you, Colonel. I think I have what I need."
He exhaled, visibly relieved. "So… does this mean I'm cleared?"
Sam took a moment, weighing his answers carefully. She could sense his commitment to duty, resilience, and the emotional toll of years spent suppressing his struggles.
"Yes, Colonel. But I expect you to keep managing these… tendencies. It's clear you need therapy to address several issues you've been carrying inside for far too long."
Jack's lips quirked into a faint, grateful smile.
"Understood. Thanks, Doc."
The words hung between them, and she allowed herself a slight nod. Their roles blurred briefly, the sense of duty interwoven with a newfound understanding.
As he rose to leave, she watched him go, her mind filled with his words and concealed challenges. This mission was just the beginning, and she knew they would face far greater tests in the coming days.
After Jack's evaluation was conducted, Sam met with General Hammond in his office. She took a steadying breath before speaking, her tone measured but resolute.
"General Hammond, I've completed Colonel O'Neill's evaluation," she began, setting her file on the desk. "Based on his responses and mental state, I'm clearing him for active duty on this mission. However, I do have some reservations about long-term resilience. He's… holding more inside like my sessions in D.C showed, which could impact his performance if not addressed."
Hammond nodded thoughtfully, his face a mixture of relief and concern.
"Thank you, Doctor Carter. Your insights are valuable, and I'll note your reservations for future assessments."
She nodded, feeling a sense of closure as she prepared to return to D.C. and her practice.
"I'll be filing my report today, and then I'll head back to D.C. to resume my caseload."
General Hammond's expression shifted slightly, and his tone took on an air of finality.
"Actually, Doctor Carter, there's been a change of plans. As of now, your services are required here at Stargate Command for the foreseeable future."
Sam's heart sank, her professional veneer cracking as she processed his words.
"Excuse me? I agreed to a consultation, not… not a permanent station. I have an entire practice waiting for me back in D.C. My patients—"
"This mission is of the highest priority, Doctor," Hammond interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "We've conducted a security assessment, and it's been determined that your expertise is beneficial and essential here. You'll be compensated handsomely for your services, but your assignment here is non-negotiable."
Sam clenched her jaw, feeling a surge of anger and disbelief.
"General Hammond, with all due respect, this wasn't part of our agreement. I have commitments in D.C., and I cannot just… uproot my life at your command."
"I understand this is difficult," Hammond replied, his gaze steady. "But I must remind you of the Non-Disclosure Agreement you signed when you requested access to more information about our work. This program is highly classified, and so is your role within it. The reality is, Doctor Carter, your expertise is now indispensable to our operations. I'm confident that, with time, you'll see the significance of the work being done here."
He rose from his seat, indicating that the conversation was over.
"Dr. Fraiser will assist you in getting settled," he added, his tone softening slightly. "Welcome to Stargate Command, Doctor."
He exited the room without waiting for her response, leaving Sam reeling.
Sam stood in the empty room, her fists clenched, anger and frustration boiling. How dare they assume they could just commandeer her life like this? She felt trapped, as though the walls of Stargate Command were closing in on her. The weight of her new "assignment" pressed on her, suffocating and unyielding.
Sam was still grappling with her emotions when Janet Fraiser entered with a calm and sympathetic demeanor.
"Sam? I know this is a lot to take in."
Sam rounded on her, her voice taut with barely restrained anger.
"A lot to take in? Janet, they've practically kidnapped me! I agreed to a consultation, not permanent employment in a secret military base! I have patients, responsibilities… I have a life in D.C.!"
Janet held up her hands, a placating gesture.
"I understand, believe me. It's not uncommon for the administration to reassign civilians like this when their expertise is deemed critical. And they don't make exceptions. Fighting it would be… well, let's say it's better to accept it than to push back."
Sam's eyes flashed with fury.
"Accept it? You're telling me just to give up everything I've worked for because they decided my expertise is 'essential'?"
Janet took a step closer, her voice soft but firm.
"Sam, I'm not saying it's fair. But I've seen this before. Once you're in, it's complicated to get out. The best advice I can give you is to make peace with it and focus on the work. I know it sounds impossible right now, but you might find that you can make a real difference here. And they may change their minds and let you go after a while. It also happens."
Sam shook her head, unable to contain her frustration. She turned away, gripping the back of one of the chairs tightly, her knuckles white. She was used to having controland making her own choices, and this felt like the ultimate betrayal of her autonomy. Her mind was racing, considering the patients waiting for her in D.C., the life she'd built for herself meticulously and deliberately. And now, in a single conversation, it had been stripped away.
Janet watched her quietly, her gaze compassionate.
"I know it feels like you're losing everything. But you're gaining something, too. I can't tell you what it's like to see what goes on here, to be part of it. You may find a purpose here that you never expected."
The words lingered in the air, and despite her anger, Sam felt a flicker of curiosity—a dangerous, tempting curiosity. She forced herself to breathe, willing the rage to dissipate, at least for now. Janet's calm presence was grounding, and Sam felt the first stirrings of acceptance, though a simmering resentment accompanied it.
"Fine," she said finally, her voice low and tense. "But don't expect me to be thrilled about it."
Janet gave her a gentle smile, clearly relieved.
"No one expects that, Sam. But you'll find your place here. Let me show you around, and I'll take you to your quarters. They've already been prepared for you."
Sam exhaled, nodding reluctantly.
"Lead the way."
Janet led Sam down the maze of hallways, explaining the layout and purpose of each section as they went. Sam listened in silence, still grappling with her new reality. The sterile corridors, the hum of military efficiency, the sense of constant vigilance—it was all so foreign compared to her serene, structured practice in D.C. Here, there was a palpable sense of urgency, of lives hanging in the balance with every decision.
As they passed a group of technicians, Janet gestured to the large steel doors leading to the Gate Room.
"That's the heart of Stargate Command. I'm sure you've heard about the Stargate itself in the briefings, but seeing it is something else."
Sam felt a pang of interest, but she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to show any curiosity. She was still furious, still reeling, and she didn't want to give Janet—or anyone—the satisfaction of thinking she was adjusting.
They reached a modest room near the medical wing, and Janet opened the door, stepping aside so Sam could enter. The quarters were small but functional, with a simple bed, a desk, and a narrow wardrobe. It was leagues away from her townhouse in Georgetown, and she felt a pang of homesickness as she looked around.
"These will be your quarters for now," Janet said gently, sensing her discomfort. "It's not the Ritz, but it's private and close to the infirmary if you need anything."
Sam nodded stiffly, setting down her bag with a sense of finality.
"Thanks, Janet."
Janet looked at her sympathetically.
"If you need anything—anything at all—just let me know. I know this is overwhelming."
Sam managed a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"Thanks. I think I just need some time."
They stood silently for a moment, the weight of Sam's situation hanging heavily between them. Then, an announcement crackled through the speakers, a technician's voice echoing down the hallway.
"SG-1 to the Gate Room. SG-1, report to the Gate Room."
Janet looked at Sam, a question in her eyes.
"Would you like to see them off? It's… quite a sight, watching them step through the Stargate."
Sam hesitated, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been reluctantly drawn into this world, and now, like it or not, she was a part of it. The thought of watching Jack and the team disappear into the unknown, of witnessing the raw power of the Stargate… something in her couldn't resist.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I'd like that."
Sam followed Janet down the hallway, her heart pounding as they approached the control room. The heavy doors slid open, and she was immediately struck by the sheer scale of the Stargate, its metallic surface gleaming under the lights. It loomed, imposing and enigmatic, a portal to places she could hardly imagine.
In the gate room, SG-1 stood at the base of the ramp, each member geared up, their faces set with determination. Jack caught her eye, looking from behind the mirror above, a faint, reassuring smile crossing his face before he turned back toward the Gate. She felt a pang of something she couldn't quite name—pride, worry, admiration. It was a strange, unfamiliar mix, and it unsettled her.
The technician's voice echoed through the room.
"Chevron seven… locked."
The Stargate burst to life, a vortex of shimmering blue light coalescing into a stable, rippling pool. Sam's breath caught at its beauty—a mesmerizing portal to worlds beyond Earth. She felt a shiver of awe and a gnawing sense of vulnerability—this was no ordinary journey.
Jack gave a final nod to his team and stepped forward, disappearing into the light. Daniel, Teal'c, and Kawalsky followed one by one, each vanishing through the Gate without a backward glance. The room fell silent, and Sam found herself rooted in place, unable to tear her gaze away from the portal as it deactivated, leaving only the cold, empty steel frame.
Janet placed a hand on her shoulder, her voice gentle.
"It never gets any easier watching them go. But they're the best at what they do."
Sam nodded, her emotions swirling as she stared at the empty Gate.
"I've seen a lot in my line of work, but nothing quite like this."
Janet smiled softly.
"And now you're part of it. Welcome to Stargate Command, Sam."
Sam exhaled, the reality of her situation settling over her like a heavy, immovable weight. Her anger had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination and a growing sense of responsibility. This was her world now; whether she liked it or not, she was committed to seeing it through.