Chapter 63: Diplomatic Meetings Part 2
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States of America, Earth, December 5th, 1998
Samantha Carter took another look at Lieutenant Lenkova. The woman was asleep. Finally. And the nurse had wiped away the tears tracts on her cheeks. And the snot from her nose. Magical healing didn't clean you up, she absent-mindedly noted. At least not when whatever residue was left didn't endanger your health. But Adora's magic certainly had healed all remaining injuries of the officer in the bed. There was no need for infusions or further treatment - not physical, at least.
She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. The two Russian guards outside nodded at her without a word. Sam wanted to say something supportive, but she couldn't think of one that wouldn't have felt trite or stupid.
So she nodded back and walked to the lift. She felt guilty for leaving, but there was nothing more that she could do for Lenkova right now, and she couldn't just sit at the woman's bedside - she had her own duties. Duties that required access to her lab.
But first, she had a report to make. So she headed to the Colonel's office.
"...and so I told the guy: 'Use it or lose it'. And he lost it."
The Colonel was behind his desk, telling a story to Adora and Catra that Sam had heard before. Adora was nodding along on the seat in front of the desk, but Catra was sitting on the edge of the desk, on top of several papers, and stretching. Once more, it struck Sam just how much Catra often acted like a cat. The effects of the spliced genes that had gone into her ancestors must be more profound than Sam would have expected. Maybe if she had a scan of the woman's brain…
"So, how is the Lieutenant?" the Colonel interrupted her stray thought. Which she shouldn't have had - she must be more tired than she thought.
"Asleep," Sam replied. "Physically, she's fine, but mentally…" She pressed her lips together.
"She'll get over it," Catra said with a nod. It sounded confident but also a little dismissive. "It wasn't her fault that she was possessed."
Ah. Of course, given what Sam knew about Catra's past, it made sense she would think like that. "People aren't rational like that when it comes to trauma," Sam pointed out. "And she blames herself for failing her team." Lenkova had said as much to Sam before falling asleep.
The Colonel winced. He, too, would be familiar with guilt, Sam knew. He would be able to talk to Lenkova about what she was going through, but… Sam wasn't sure she liked the idea. On the other hand, she didn't really trust most of the therapists on Stargate Command's payroll to handle this. They simply lacked experience with what Lenkova had gone through. Sam knew - to some degree - how having your body taken over felt. But she didn't know how losing your team as a leader felt.
"But it wasn't her fault!" Adora said, shaking her head. "Sometimes, you do everything right, and you still fail. And it was her first mission against the Goa'uld."
Catra snorted, though Sam didn't see what would be amusing about the comment, and the Colonel shook his head. "All members of Stargate Command are highly-trained and skilled soldiers. And most of them have combat experience in some form. She will blame herself for missing something or giving the wrong order." He scoffed. "Trust me, I know that feeling."
Catra nodded in agreement. "But she'll get over it," she repeated herself.
Sam wanted to ask if the woman was speaking from experience, but that would be… You didn't ask about things like that. Not in this situation, when they were talking about Lenkova. And Sam was certain that Catra wouldn't react well to any attempt to poke into her past. Not at all. The catwoman would probably react like the Colonel. Or more rudely. No, some sleeping dogs - or cats - were better left in peace.
"I hope so. I wish I could heal trauma." Adora sighed.
"You can't just wave your magic wand and solve everything," the Colonel said with a shrug. His tone was a little less gentle than Sam would have expected. He generally wasn't as short with Adora.
Oh. He was feeling guilty as well since Lenkova had been one of his officers.
She suppressed a sigh. This was worse than she had thought. She wished she could just hole up in the spacelab until someone solved this. She wasn't a trained psychologist, anyway.
But she wouldn't desert her team. Nor her commanding officer.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States of America, Earth, December 6th, 1998
"You wanted to see me, General?" Samantha Carter asked after sitting down in General Hammond's office. She kept her tone polite, of course - the general had earned her respect. Even though she really wanted to return to her work; with Lieutenant Lenkova still asleep, Sam wanted to use the time to deal with her paperwork and then advance a research project or two - the lines to the spacelab were working, and she really wanted to test the waldos with Entrapta.
"Yes, I did, Captain." The General nodded. He took a deep breath, clearly uncomfortable - Sam knew him well enough.
And she was suddenly worried. General Hammond usually came straight to the point. And not just because he was usually swamped with work. If he was hesitating, then something was wrong. But was it something that concerned Stargate Command? He had only called her, not the rest of SG-1. That meant it was personal. What could have happened? She pressed her lips together before she blurted the question out. Instead, she kept meeting the general's eyes.
He sighed once more. "It's your father, Captain. Jacob."
Sam frowned a little as she slightly tilted her head. She hadn't had contact with her father since that embarrassing meeting in Washington months ago - before she met the Etherians. What could he have done now? And why was General Hammond concerned about it? Her father was stubborn and prideful to a fault - he still hadn't contacted her, and she certainly wouldn't contact him after it had been revealed just how important her position was, contrary to his assumptions - but she couldn't think of anything he'd actually do that would worry the general. Her father wasn't stupid. "Yes?"
"Now, he didn't tell me, but his aide called me, and…"
Sam nodded. She was aware of how information was passed on through such unofficial channels. But what was it that the General was so hesitant to mention?
"So, long story short, Captain, Jacob has cancer. Terminal cancer."
Sam gasped. Her father was dying? From cancer? Why didn't he tell me?
General Hammond winced, and she realised she had asked that question out loud. "Well, he probably didn't want to appear trying to use your friendship with the Etherians to get preferential treatment."
But… "He's a major general! Surely the United States would ask the Etherians to heal him. He's…" Important and influential enough to have offered Sam help to get into the NASA astronaut program. Not that she would have accepted the help - if she had achieved it through nepotism, it would have been worthless. And she was already involved with Stargate Command, anyway.
Once more, General Hammond winced. "Not against his will, I suppose. And…" He shook his head. "Jacob is a proud man. He might be hoping that advanced technology will be adapted in time to heal him."
That sounded like her father. Too proud to ask his daughter for help after she refused his help. But that would still mean that her father didn't tell his superiors that his cancer was terminal - something she wouldn't put past him.
Ultimately, it didn't matter - nothing would change the fact that she couldn't let her father die. Not if she could get him help. Which she could. She nodded firmly. "I will talk to Adora about that when she's coming over later today. Is he still in Washington?"
"His aide told me that Jacob rented a flat in Colorado Springs," General Hammond told her.
What? Was he planning to move to… to meet her? Something to ask him once he was healed. "Thank you, sir."
General Hammond nodded. He seemed relieved - but also worried.
"I don't think he'll hold it against you," she said. Truthfully, she wasn't sure - her father was prideful, after all. And stubborn. But General Hammond had saved his life in Vietnam.
"I hope so. But I can't let him die over some foolish stubbornness, Captain."
Sam nodded, although she had no doubt that the General wasn't merely talking about her father's stubbornness.
But that was Sam's business, not her commanding officer's.
When she had left the general's office, back in the hallway, in a moment of privacy, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Dad, dying from cancer… And he hadn't even told her!
Sam was acting weird today, Catra had decided after the first five minutes in Stargate Command. The woman seemed distracted while they were talking about how to help Lenkova. Catra had mentioned that Lenkova needed a lover to recover, but while Adora had gasped at her, Sam had barely reacted. That was highly unusual, as they said - the woman's focus was good, but she still tended to react to such jokes at least with a frown or eye roll.
So, what was it that did this to her? Was she feeling guilty about something? Perhaps something related to Lenkova? Jealousy? Catra could understand that, of course. In hindsight.
If Sam thought that, with Lenkova recovered, the other woman would once again pursue O'Neill, using the sympathy bonus, as the humans called it, to win out over Sam, who was apparently hampered by their military's rules… Well, in her place, Catra would probably do a lot of stupid things, not just think about doing them.
On the other hand, Sam seemed more the type to throw herself into her work if she was struggling with jealousy instead of getting distracted. At least that was Catra's take on her - she hadn't reacted like this when Anise had been all but throwing herself at O'Neill (and Catra wouldn't be too surprised if the Tok'ra actually did that at the next meeting). In any case, Sam should just tell O'Neill that she loved him and settle this. If the rules didn't allow their relationship, they should change the rules. Hell, if Adora and Glimmer asked, the Americans might change the rules. Or add an exception for O'Neill and Sam. Whatever worked.
But if it wasn't her love life, then what had Sam so tied up?
"...and we won't be able to tell until the psychiatrists finish their preliminary evaluation, but that can't be done until she has recovered enough for a session," Sam said. "And she might react with hostility to such a proposal, anyway."
"Why?" Adora cocked her head to the side. "Aren't psychiatrists specialised in dealing with people suffering like her? Jack said something about a loony bin needing to make profits, but I thought he was joking…"
Catra nodded, although, privately, she was sure that, while Jack had been joking, he wasn't just joking but genuinely didn't like psychiatrists. He had made enough comments about shrinks for that. But that was a topic she wasn't about to touch.
Sam sighed. "If the psychiatrists come to the conclusion that she's mentally unfit for service, she'll be relieved from her post."
"Oh. And you think that the psychiatrists would be wrong." Adora nodded.
"I think they tend to underestimate our ability to deal with trauma and apply standards that are better suited for civilian occupations. But I am also aware that the distrust of psychiatrists that many soldiers have might lead to some of them hiding their problems for fear of being judged mentally unfit, ultimately becoming mentally unfit as a result of not getting help," Sam said.
That sounded like a quote or something, to Catra, at least. Not that it concerned her. And she didn't think Sam was worried about anything related to that either. Although… "Did they try to get you removed from Stargate Command?" she asked.
Sam winced before showing her usual calm expression. "After Jolinar's death, there were some concerns, mostly by psychiatrists without the necessary experience."
Catra nodded but made a mental note not to poke at that topic either. "But that's not what got you so distracted, is it?" she asked, to change the topic - and to finally get to the bottom of this before Catra was driven crazy by not knowing.
Sam tensed for a moment, and Adora blurted out: "Distracted? Is something wrong?"
The woman sighed. "Yes. Although it's not related to Stargate Command."
"What is it? We can help! I think," Adora said. "We'll do what we can, anyway. You're our friend!"
Catra nodded in agreement - Adora would do what she could for their friend. Any friend, she added to herself with a smile.
Sam took a deep breath."It's my father. He's sick - cancer. Terminal cancer."
Adora gasped. "No! Where is he? I can go heal him right away!" She was out of her seat and turning towards the door before Catra or Sam could react.
"Wait!" Sam held up her hand. "It's not that… He's not dying right this moment. I mean, he's not in need of immediate healing."
"But…" Adora stopped but frowned. "Why should he keep suffering any moment longer than necessary? He's your father! Or are you worried about, ah, nepotism? With your father's life in danger?"
"No!" Sam closed her eyes for a moment and took another deep breath. "It's… We haven't talked for a while. We had a falling out a few months ago."
"Oh." Adora blinked. "That's…" She trailed off.
A falling out? With her father? Catra wondered how that would have happened. Was Sam's father like… like Shadow Weaver? Trying to control and manipulate her or something?
"He didn't know about Stargate. He thought I was 'wasting my potential in a dead-end posting'," Sam explained.
"Ah." Adora nodded.
Catra pressed her lips together. That did sound like a thing Shadow Weaver would have said. To Adora, of course.
"I'll still heal him," Adora said, nodding firmly.
Sam grimaced. "It's not... I mean, yes. But I want to talk to him before that. Alone."
"Oh, of course!" Adora told her. "Just tell us when I can come and heal him."
Sam winced once more.
Catra almost snorted - was the other woman shuffling her feet? Afraid to talk to her own father? Well, if he really was like Shadow Weaver, then Catra could understand that, of course.
But the other woman recovered quickly. "Alright, I'll contact you once that's… done. Now, about Lieutenant Lenkova…"
White House, Washington D.C., United States of America, Earth, December 6th, 1998
If he had known how many stupid meetings he would have to attend as a result of meeting the Tok'ra, Jack O'Neill would have buried Jakar in a cell and faked the paperwork rather than contacting the snakes. Well, no, he wouldn't have done that since that would have doomed Lenkova and Sha're, but he surely would have thought about it a lot. This was all the Tok'ra's fault for wanting humans as hosts!
"...and, in your opinion, Colonel, what kind of threat to Earth would the Tok'ra pose if they went hostile after securing hosts from us?" the Secretary of Defense asked.
Jack had answered that question before. In his report, even - why was he forced to write those things if no one ever read them? But you didn't question the cabinet in the White House for not reading reports. Not as a Colonel. Not unless they were about to endanger Earth which they weren't. For now. "That depends on whether or not travel to and from their territory is restricted and under our control," he said with a polite smile. "And, if it isn't restricted and under our control, on what our rules of engagement are." They could track the snakes with enhanced Etherian sensors, but if the Tok'ra were guests of another country, things would get messy. Probably the kind of messy that Jack had been called to solve back in the Cold War.
"We control the Stargate," the Secretary of the Interior said. "But can we control space?"
"Not at the moment," the Secretary of Defense - grudgingly, in Jack's opinion - admitted. "We depend on the Etherians for that. But we can track any arrivals, and we have the capability to intercept spaceships in the atmosphere."
Jack frowned as he saw a few cabinet members nod. "You mean launching nukes," he said.
Several people gasped, and the Secretary of Defense glared at him. But the President nodded. "I don't know about everyone else, but I wouldn't exactly call using weapons of mass destruction on Earth a proportionate response to our allies letting people travel to earth whom we don't want here." He leaned forward, folding his hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are, and will be for the foreseeable future, dependent on the Etherians for anything related to control of space in this war. We haven't even laid down the first spaceships yet."
"No one on Earth has," the Secretary of Defense muttered.
"And our control of the Stargate is not complete," the Secretary of State added. "It's under the control of the United Nations, and while we have considerable influence in the Security Council thanks to our allies, we cannot expect to be able to unilaterally dictate who gets to use it and who doesn't. Certainly not once it has been relocated to Canada."
There was some grumbling about that, even though that had been a done deal for months now.
The President cleared his throat. "I know it's a bitter pill to swallow, but we have to stop longing for the days when we were the undisputed superpower of the planet. Things have changed, ladies and gentlemen - drastically. The undisputed superpower on Earth is Etheria, and even amongst the countries of Earth, our nation is now merely one amongst the Great Powers. We need to adjust to that reality."
"That's temporary," the Secretary of Commerce objected. "Our industrial superiority will restore the status quo once we have finished adapting to advanced technology."
"The status quo has been irredeemably destroyed," the Secretary of Education retorted. "Just because we have been the top dog for decades doesn't mean we'll return to that position. Demographics and geography can only carry you so far. We are talking about revolutionary technology that is transforming our entire world. The Europeans are already moving to drop their dependency on fossil fuels to take advantage of the new reactor technology the Etherians are sharing."
The Secretary of Commerce snorted. "Good look trying to get that past the oil lobby!"
"Their oil lobby isn't nearly as strong as ours. And they aren't nearly as dependent on cars as we are, so the costs for them to change to this new paradigm is much lower - both political and financial," the woman insisted.
"I didn't know you took over my department," the Secretary of Transportation sniped. "My experts certainly haven't been able to make such predictions with any confidence."
"That's because they know you're backed by the oil and car industry lobby and don't want to upset you," she shot back. "But the fact remains that we need to change a lot if we want to remain the most powerful nation on Earth. And we can't do that by sticking to what worked before - and there are a lot of influential people who will fight any such change for entirely selfish reasons."
"That's just green propaganda! And the German car lobby has even more influence than ours!"
"But not on Europe as a whole!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," the President repeated himself. "This is not the time to - civilly - debate our economic policies. We are here to discuss how to answer the Tok'ra's proposals."
Jack had to suppress a grin when he saw the reactions of the cabinet members to getting scolded. Not that it actually was funny, of course, to get such a stark reminder that the government didn't know what to do yet. But you didn't make a career in special forces without gallows humour.
"We can't let them take over military personnel. Or anyone with classified information," the Secretary of Defense said. "Also, we've come to the conclusion that any attempts to infiltrate them through trained operatives volunteering to become hosts are doomed to failure since they will literally read the operatives' minds."
"Colonel O'Neill, how do you think the Tok'ra would react to a spy becoming a host in order to access their technology and secrets?" the President asked. "Because while I agree that such a course of action would be foolish, I can think of a few countries who would take the chance."
"Damn Russians and Chinese," Jack heard the Secretary of Defense mumble.
"This is hard to say, Mr President," Jack said. "The Tok'ra are, ultimately, a society of spies." Thank you, Daniel, he added silently - his friend's lectures on the subject were useful. "They will likely expect that. But we don't know if they would consider it business as usual or an offence - or an opportunity to reach out to a country outside the Alliance for a separate deal."
"If only to put pressure on us for more concessions," the Secretary of State commented.
"And they have thousands of years of experience with such ploys - we have to assume they are aware of that possibility already," the Secretary of Education added. "We cannot underestimate them."
She was, of course, correct. The snakes, even if they were nominally allies, were damn dangerous.
"So, the best way to avoid all that is to provide the Tok'ra with as many hosts as they want," Kinsey, who wasn't a cabinet member but still present, spoke up. "And if they truly have such a close and intimate partnership with their hosts as you describe, Colonel O'Neill, then the more American hosts they get, the more they'll share our views over our rivals'."
That was just the kind of thinking Jack expected from Kinsey. This was like… a political human wave attack or something. He had to press his lips together to comment.
But the majority of the cabinet seemed to share the man's views, nodding in agreement.
Damn.
"Of course, there are other ways to influence the Tok'ra," the bastard went on with a smile. "According to my information, it seems a prominent scientist of them has become infatuated with you, Colonel."
Jack went rigid. "The only thing Anise is interested in is my genes," he snapped, glaring at the man.
"Isn't that what most marriages are about, when it comes down to it?" Kinsey shrugged. "But, of course, I am not suggesting a marriage, or even a relationship, Colonel. I am merely pointing out that you have the opportunity to forge close personal bonds - of friendship - with the Tok'ra, as you did with the Etherians. Trust me, Colonel, we are all aware here that your and your team's friendship with the Etherian leaders is a crucial factor in our relationship with the dominant power of this Alliance."
Jack was so busy glaring at the scumbag, he almost missed the reactions of the cabinet. Almost - he didn't miss the frowns on some people in the room, though. Or the surprise on the faces of some, which he really hoped was there because Kinsey was - dishonestly, of course - praising Jack and not because they had somehow missed the fact that for the Etherians, politics was based on personal relationships.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States of America, Earth, December 6th, 1998
Each time Adora thought she understood Earth, or even just their friends from Stargate Command, they did something that left her confused. Well, not exactly, but it felt like this. Sam's father was sick - deadly sick. Adora could heal him. But she shouldn't be healing him right now because Sam wanted to talk to him first. That was kind of understandable - relationships with parents were complicated. Adora had no personal experience with that, having been raised without parents in the Horde, but she had seen Glimmer with Queen Angella and King Micah, and that was certainly a complicated relationship. At least with Queen Angella, but Glimmer had complained about her dad as well, though not as often. Bow had had some issues with his dads as well, but he didn't complain about them nearly as often as Glimmer, so it probably wasn't a problem. On the other hand, Bow tended to keep things quiet… Anyway, Mermista's dad had run away from his kingdom in the middle of the war, leaving her to fight off the Horde almost by herself. And, of course, her other friends didn't have parents any more.
But what Adora didn't quite understand was why Sam wanted her to hide that she was healing her father - if her father accepted to get healed, of course, but why wouldn't he? He'd die otherwise! "They're so weird about this," she muttered under her breath.
Of course, Catra's ears perked up, and her lover turned away from the television in the room and cocked her head at Adora: "The humans?"
Adora looked around even though they were alone in the meeting room. Or waiting room, now that Sam was off to talk with her dad. "Yes."
"Of course they're weird." Catra shrugged. "We've known that from the start."
"No, I didn't mean…" Adora trailed off. "I meant about healing. Everyone knows I heal people if I meet them, and they need healing."
Catra nodded. "That's why we don't go shopping with you any more."
Adora glared at her. Her lover might be right, but that was still not a nice thing to say. Even if all the humans agreed that Adora's presence caused trouble or something. But it wasn't her fault that so many people needed to be healed!
Catra smirked in return, and Adora sighed. "But, as I was saying, the humans know that," she went on. "So, why do we need to smuggle Sam's dad into Stargate Command and heal him without anyone knowing?" Catra opened her mouth, and Adora held up a hand. "I know, they don't want to appear playing favourites."
"Well, that's the reason." Catra shrugged again. "Do you want to deal with everyone trying to become your friend so they or their family can be healed?"
Adora pressed her lips together. Of course, she didn't want to suspect her friends of using her like that! But no one should feel forced to do such a thing anyway because they had no other choice. "But we are playing favourites, aren't we?" And it was obvious to anyone - there had been some official complaints by other countries, Adora knew, about favouring the USA.
"Of course we are," Catra replied. "Would you want to let a friend die just because you can't save everyone? That would be stupid."
Adora nodded. You can't save everyone, so you should not save anyone? She couldn't believe some people on TV had actually said that! That wasn't how you did things! You did what you could to help people!
"And the humans also do it. They just use excuses, such as 'improving the efficiency of the government by ensuring that key members of the administration aren't distracted by health issues or health issues of their immediate family'," Catra went on.
Adora groaned at the reminder. Her suggestion that they could just gather everyone in the same room or hall and let her heal them had been turned down 'for security reasons'. And for the same 'security reasons', she was supposed to hide healing the government. Or governments. "Why would the people have a problem with their leaders getting healed?" she complained. "They elected them! If they wanted them to die, they shouldn't have voted for them!"
"Perhaps they want them to suffer?" Catra shrugged with a chuckle.
Adora scoffed. If your leaders were suffering, they couldn't really focus on leading. And that dragged everyone down. That was basic knowledge any cadet was taught. "That would be stupid of them."
Catra nodded in agreement before turning back to the TV, where the news was covering the unveiling of another new factory project in… Detroit?
Adora had missed the announcement, and the buildings all looked alike to her. Not that it mattered, as long as it distracted her from thinking about the whole thing. And from thinking about whether or not Shadow Weaver had been a parental figure or not.
Colorado Springs, Colorado, United States of America, Earth, December 6th, 1998
Samantha Carter took another look at the apartment complex in front of her. It wasn't much of a complex - it looked more like a converted small two-story motel. To think that Dad would be living here while he was deathly ill and not in a hotel! He certainly could have afforded a hotel. Was this an attempt to be subtle? Or did he have money trouble? She hadn't really kept up with the family finances, but a general's pay, while quite generous for government employees, wouldn't prevent you from ruining yourself through a few foolhardy investment decisions. Maybe she should have asked Mark if he had heard anything, but her brother might wonder why she would be calling, and if he got involved before she had Dad's cancer dealt with…
Sam clenched her teeth. She was stalling, she realised. Trying to delay the confrontation. And she was better than that.
Straightening, she stepped forward, headed to door number five and rang the bell. Which was newer than the door and looked like it had been added as an afterthought. Definitely a converted motel, then.
It took about fifteen seconds until she heard "I'm coming!", and the door opened.
And Sam was looking at her father. Who was staring back at her for a moment, mouth open, before recovering from his surprise. He looked thinner than she remembered him. Chemotherapy? He still had some hair. Same male balding pattern.
She took a deep breath. "Hello, Dad."
"Sam." He nodded and took a step back. "Come in."
She nodded in return and entered the small apartment, trying not to feel as if she was stepping into the office of a superior.
The apartment was barely larger than General Hammond's office, but it did have room not only for an armchair to watch TV but also a small desk turned into a table with two chairs. Sam refrained from commenting on the spartan furniture - she was here to get her father healed, not to start a confrontation.
"Have a seat." He gestured at the desk.
Nodding again, she sat down, and he followed suit, putting the table between them.
"You're in uniform," he said.
"I came directly from the Mountain."
He frowned slightly. "Who told you?"
"That doesn't matter."
"It was probably George, wasn't it?" He snorted with a twisted smile. "Trying to save my life again."
Sam clenched her teeth. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you have inoperable cancer." She leaned forward. "I've arranged for healing by the Etherians." There. Short and to the point.
She saw his eyes widen, the edges of his mouth twitching as he relaxed for a moment, before a familiar frown appeared on his face. "I didn't ask for preferential treatment!" he snapped back. "Or nepotism."
Nepotism? Sam suppressed a gasp. Was this what this was about? Oh, he was… "This isn't about using your influence to get a relative a posting, but about saving a life!" she snapped.
"It's the same principle!" he retorted. "Why should this be different?"
"It's about your life!"
"And it was about your life!"
"No, it was about my career!" She glared at him.
He scoffed. "We're both career officers, Sam. The military is our life."
"That's… That's not true!" There was more to life than your career.
"Really?" He cocked his head. "And what's your life outside the military?"
Not that again! "If you want grandchildren, visit Mark!" she spat.
His lips turned into a thin line.
"Sorry," she pressed through clenched teeth. "I shouldn't have brought him up." Her brother's estrangement from Dad wasn't why she was here, and bringing it up wouldn't do any good.
He slowly nodded. He didn't apologise for his remarks, though.
It didn't matter. She was here because her father was dying and she could save him. Would save him. "As I said, I have asked the Etherians to heal you. You might as well accept it," she added with a forced snort. "I doubt that you could stop Adora."
"Did you think what people will say about this? They'll accuse you of abusing your position for personal gain."
"They already accuse me of exploiting my friendship with them," she shot back. "And who cares? I don't want you to die, Dad," she added in a softer voice.
"And I don't want you to sacrifice your career prospects - or your principles - for me."
Oh, the stubborn old fool! Sam had to take a deep breath and force herself to calm down to keep from lambasting him. "My career isn't in any danger," she said. She was, without any false modesty, the best scientist Earth had for researching Ancient technology and magitech. She wasn't entirely sure if she would even be allowed to resign her commission if she wanted to.
"You say that, but I've seen good officers get cashiered for petty reasons. Or as scapegoats. Just being my daughter is enough to earn you the enmity of people who can't get to me."
"Removing me from my post would wreck key projects for national security," she retorted. "Not to mention it might damage relations with our newest ally."
He frowned again. "Are you serious?"
Sam nodded. "For the Etherians, politics are personal. They take friendships very seriously. If I get fired for petty politics, they won't just shrug and continue business as usual - they'll question whether or not they can trust America." She hesitated a moment, then added: "And I could easily get hired by them and continue my work. With far less interference by the brass." Though she didn't know if the Etherians would formally hire her - she hadn't asked how they handled such things, she realised. But she had no doubt that she would be welcome amongst them for as long as she wanted to stay.
"You would join the aliens?" he seemed surprised.
"Yes, Dad. They are my friends." It would also allow her to continue working with SG-1. And she wouldn't be bound by the regulations concerning personal relationships any more either… Best not go there.
He nodded. "I see. I didn't know that."
She swallowed the bitter 'there's a lot you don't know about me' comment that this prompted. "Yes, Dad."
"But it's still…"
"It's your life, Dad," she snapped. "And it's how the Etherians do things." With another snort, she added: "Just accept it before they make a diplomatic issue out of it."
He chuckled, but she wasn't entirely joking. Adora felt strongly about family. "I guess I have no choice then? If you're sure it won't hurt you…" He trailed off.
Not nearly as much as you dying would, Sam thought. Out loud, she said: "It won't."
"Alright then." He sighed and seemed to shrink a little as he slumped, and suddenly, he looked far sicker than before. Tired. Exhausted.
Sam felt the urge to get him to Adora as soon as possible. "Then let's go."
"Right now?"
"They're waiting for you," Sam explained.
"You've got the leaders of an alien planet waiting to heal me?" He stared at her. "Queens and princesses?"
"I told you - they're my friends, and they take that seriously," she said. "They'd have the president himself reschedule a meeting for this."
He blinked, and Sam fought the urge to smirk at him. That would have been petty.
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States of America, Earth, December 6th, 1998
"Dad, these are Adora and Catra. Adora, Catra - my father, Major General Jacob Carter."
Sam's father didn't look much like his daughter, Catra thought. At least not at first glance. In his favour, he didn't stare at her ears and tail like others - though that hadn't happened very often lately. Although they also had restricted their visits to diplomatic and military meetings and close friends. People who knew better than to stare at her. Or were used to her. The general had a firm handshake for a human, though, even if he looked frailer than others. She nodded at him. "Hi there."
"Hello!" Adora beamed at him.
"Hello." He looked around. "So, this is your lab. With all the alien technology."
"Yes, Dad."
"One of her labs," Adora added after a moment of silence. "Entrapta and Sam also built a spacelab."
"So, you achieved your dream of going to space."
"Yes."
More silence. Catra rolled her eyes. If that was how you acted with a father, she didn't want one.
"So, where do you want to be healed?" Adora asked. "I can do it here. Or we can go to the infirmary so Dr Frasier can observe it with her instruments."
"Whatever is more convenient."
"We should do it here," Sam said. "Fewer witnesses."
"Rumours will spread anyway," her father complained.
"Not on our end," Sam retorted.
They were arguing again. Catra shook her head. "Just spread more rumours. Silly ones, so people won't believe any rumour for a while." She had done that a few times as a cadet. It hadn't worked all the time, but it had generally been amusing.
Sam frowned at her, but her father laughed. "What do you have in mind?"
"Dad!"
"Come on, Sam - you almost smuggled me into the base in your trunk."
"I did not! I was merely discreet."
"Well, you could spread rumours that you needed, uh, to talk about…" Adora trailed off.
"An arranged marriage? Grandchildren? A teleporter so you could visit more often?" Catra suggested.
Sam glared at her - she should be used to such humour, in Catra's opinion, the way she pined after O'Neill - and her father laughed some more.
Not for long, though. He grew serious soon enough. "I think 'family matters' should suffice. People will make up their own rumours anyway. And I can visit George afterwards."
"Sounds good," Catra agreed.
Sam grudgingly nodded, which sealed it.
"Good!" Adora beamed at them again and summoned her sword. "For the Honour of Grayskull!"
This time, General Carter stared, but Catra couldn't really fault him for that. She had seen it a hundred times and still enjoyed the sight herself. The magic. The power. Adora.
Adora didn't lose any time after transforming, pointing her sword at the man right away - as if she feared he might change his mind - and let the magic cover him.
Catra saw the general stagger, gripping the edge of the table next to him to steady himself even as Sam rushed forward.
Then he blinked. "Wow. This…" Shivering, he stretched.
Sam had frozen halfway to grabbing him when he recovered and now pulled out a scanner and pointed it at him. "Let me check!"
"I healed him," Adora told her with a pout. Not that Sam would listen, in Catra's opinion. Not when it was her father getting healed.
"This is…" The man started moving, rolling her shoulder, raising his arms. Then he bent down, slowly, carefully at first, before doing a squat, then two. "The pain's gone."
"Yes," Adora told him. "All the microdamage is healed. You're perfectly healthy for your age now."
"I certainly feel like it." He smiled, though he still looked a little… unsure? Shocked? Catra found it hard to tell.
"The scan confirms it," Sam said. "No anomalies."
"Anomalies?"
"It's magic, Dad. Better be safe than sorry."
"I won't, ah, suddenly grow fur?" he asked with a glance at Catra. "You didn't mention possible side effects."
"You were dying, Dad!"
"Don't worry! I haven't changed anyone since Swift Wind!" Adora tried to reassure him. "I know how to control my magic now."
"Good." The general's grimace was soon replaced with a smile again. "But even if I transformed - this feels great! Thank you!"
"You're welcome." Adora nodded with a smile.
Catra leaned back against the wall next to her. One problem solved. And they had something to tease Sam about now. Something safer than her feelings for O'Neill. "She's a bit like Glimmer and Micah," Catra whispered. Just a bit, though - there was more tension there, but she was, in some way, as concerned about his health as Glimmer was about Micah's. With more justification, of course. Micah wasn't deadly ill. Hadn't been deadly ill either.
"And like Glimmer and Angella were," Adora added in a low voice.
Catra winced. Angella was trapped in another dimension because of her. Because she had been an idiot and a maniac willing to risk the entire world to get what she wanted. Which she could have gotten anyway if she hadn't been an idiot. Damn.
"Oh…" Adora reached out to hold her hand.
And it seemed as if Sam's father had noticed her reaction as well.
Fortunately, Catra was saved from explaining or lying.
"Carter? You won't believe what Kinsey did this… Ah, good evening, General Carter."
Catra's ears twitched as O'Neill actually snapped to attention and saluted. She grinned - that was interesting.