“Hey, Bill.” Sam nodded toward Dr. Lee as she entered the weapons platform chamber. Though General O’Neill was still in the outpost’s main area, she’d need to hurry if she wanted everything ready for the chair’s next test with a live subject. Namely, the general.
“Be with you in bit,” Lee said from a monitor stationed by the rear wall. “I’m on a conference call with Dr. Rick Dale, an old friend of mine over at the Mount Erebus Volcano Observatory.”
The Erebus Observatory was located on Ross Island, some twenty-seven miles away from McMurdo. Last Sam checked, the volcano hardly spat out anything past its inner caldera.
“I’m just gonna…” She pointed toward the dual computer display monitoring the Weapons Platform.
Lee hit a key and turned around. The word ‘mute’ flashed on his screen. “Prelims went off without a hitch.”
“Thanks for doing that. He can’t see the chair, can he?”
“Who? Oh, you mean Rick?” He turned back the screen. “Nope, I narrowed the camera’s view. Don’t worry, Colonel.”
He tapped the keyboard again and the mute function disappeared. As Lee continued to chat with his friend, Sam slid onto a stool by the monitors and chafed her hands together to warm her fingers. The chamber was kept at a cool thirty degrees to insure the ice-covered cavern remained intact. A bit cold for bare hands, but wearing gloves while inputting the program she had planned just wasn’t going to get the work done fast enough.
If everything went as planned, the Mark II would definitely power the chair. She’d designed the power system, run the simulations, and had even double-checked the math — which was no easy feat when having to convert from Base-10 to Base-8 so it could interface with the chair.
While she’d told General O’Neill that a little faith went a long way that belief was firmly rooted in science. Most scientists couldn’t blend a religious belief and a scientific mind, but Sam had no trouble combining the two. Especially after all that she’d seen throughout the Milky Way. Just as she’d had faith the chopper would handle a bit of wind because of the laws of aerodynamics, she also believed those immutable laws were an extraordinary miracle.
She entered a few keystrokes, calling up a system report on Dr. Lee’s preliminary test. The backup Mark II had kicked in for a few microseconds, but she had just the remedy to keep that from becoming a problem. Popping in her flash drive, she bypassed the system, and copied over its files.
“Colonel Carter,” Lee said loudly. “What’s he doing?”
Sam looked up from the monitor. General O’Neill was poking at the control gel packs on Ancient weapons chair’s armrests. His brow furrowed, his shock of silver hair still ruffled from his helicopter helmet, the general seemed lost in thought. Troubled, actually.
Lee looked over at the general and then back to Sam. “Should I sign off?”
“Give us a few minutes, and then yes, it’s probably a good idea to get back to work.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried over to the general’s side. “We’re ready, sir.”
He frowned. “Yeah. About that, Carter…”
“It won’t take long,” she assured him. “We just need a live guinea pig in the chair for a few moments.”
“A guinea pig, you say?” He turned toward her, his expression softened.
Sam mustered up as much enthusiasm as she could. “Nothing wrong with being a guinea pig, sir.” She flashed him a smile, hoping it would pull the general out of whatever troubled him.
It didn’t work. General O’Neill turned his attention back to the chair, his eyes hooded. Somber.
“What was it like, Carter?”
“Operating the chair? Sir, you’d know better than me, I don’t have the genetics.”
He shook his head. “I don’t mean the chair. I meant back when that entity thing took over your body and stuffed you in that computer mainframe in the M.A.L.P. room.”
“Oh,” Sam replied. “That.”
“Yeah, that.”
“To be honest, sir, all I remember was feeling like I had no control.” She shuddered, realizing how similar the sensation had been to Fifth’s attack, a thousand horrific images seared into her brain.
“You must’ve had some kind of control,” the general said. “Otherwise, you couldn’t shout at us through every frigging monitor on the base.”
“I suppose that’s true.” She closed her eyes, trying to shut the lid on any thoughts of Fifth. She knew it wouldn’t hold for long. Too many nights waking up in a cold sweat were proof-positive that Fifth had left a mark.
“Carter?”
“Right. Being in the mainframe was like…” She remembered the disorientation. The feeling as if she’d never get out. Was that how General O’Neill felt when he sat in the Ancient chair? “It was like being in a dark room without any door, but — ”
“There’s always a but, isn’t there?”
She smiled. “Yes, sir, there is.”
“Care to share?”
“I still knew who I was. I still had that knowledge.” She shrugged. “After that, it was just a case of using that knowledge as a weapon.”
“Now you sound like Daniel.” His lips flattened in a thin line, General O’Neill turned to stare at the chair.
“Sir, when you were in the chair, you obviously were still in control, otherwise — ”
“How could I knock out Anubis’ fleet?” The general straightened his shoulders. “That’s a good point.”
“You’re still in control, sir.” She gestured toward the chair. “It’s just a weapon.”
“A weapon that has to crawl around my head to do its job.” General O’Neill sighed. “Problem is, I’m not quite sure I recall how to make it work. I mean, I remember…”
He fell silent. Though Sam wasn’t surprised to hear he couldn’t recall his last use of the chair, she was surprised to see how much it seemed to bother him. He’d read her report of what happened during the mission to battle Anubis. She was sure he’d read Daniel’s and Teal’c’s, too. Maybe, he just needed a good analogy to put his mind at ease.
“That’s the easy part, sir. Just concentrate. Think of the chair as a trigger on a rifle. Focus on your target.”
“Whoa. Hold on.” He jabbed a finger at the chair. “Tell me those drones won’t be connected while I’m sitting in that. Or any of those nuggets, either. Trust me, Carter, it’s not fun being chased by one of those things.”
“We’ve bypassed the drones, General,” Lee called out from behind the monitors.
General O’Neill eyed Lee with skepticism. “And how long have you been eavesdropping?”
“Me?” Lee’s face reddened. “I… uh… I was on a conference — ”
“Just tell me this thing isn’t going to blow up.” The general marched around to the front of the chair. Any visual sign of his earlier trepidation was gone, tucked away in a room so locked down that even Sam didn’t have the key.
Keys!
“Sir, don’t sit down yet.” She hurried back over to the control system and checked. The file transfer was complete. A few clicks, a password prompt, and she typed in an alphanumeric string. A low hum initiated from the primary Mark II. The secondary stayed dormant, its yellow standby light blinking in confirmation.
“Does it work?” Lee joined her by the control screen.
“So far, so good.”
“Does what work?”
Sam scribbled the passphrase on to a pad by the monitor and handled it to Lee. “I’ve created an automatic switch so the second Mark II can take over if the first falters. Converting the chair’s input take from the enormous power of vacuum energy to the naquadah’s more direct stream was like trying to re-jigger a piece of equipment from using A/C power to D/C, so I — ”
“Ah!” General O’Neill stopped her. “I’m sorry I asked. Are we ready to light this thing up?”
“Yes, sir. Just remember — ”
“Finger on the trigger, Carter. I get it.” The general scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, no time like the present.”
He sat down in the chair and nothing happened.
Sam switched the display over to the monitoring computer. Power was steady. By all rights, it should work. She peered around the display at the general. He had his arms crossed, his eyes squeezed shut. “Sir, you need to concentrate.”
“What do you think I’m doing, whistling Dixie? Oh, wait a second.” The general splayed his hands along the gel packs.
The chair came to life, its translucent panels illuminating a soft blue glow. The platform’s equally milky panels mirrored the color and luminescence. As the back reclined, the chair rotated around, revealing a hauntingly neutral face on the general. A face that reminded Sam of just how close they’d come to losing him months ago when the Repository threatened to wipe his mind permanently.
Opening his eyes, General O’Neill glanced in her direction. He waggled his eyebrows. “I got it to work, huh?”
“I had every faith you would, General.”
“So now what?”
“We’ll run a few more tests. Make sure everything’s in order before General Hammond brings the trainees in.”
“Lucky me.”
Sam headed back toward the monitors. “You see, sir? Piece of cake. With the right genetics, anybody can do it.”
“Anybody,” said the general, his voice wooden. Distant.
“Sir?”
“I’m fine, Carter.” He squeezed his eyes shut again. “Anybody can do this.”
Teal’c gulped down yet another cup of Rooibos, thankful for the container of red leaf tea Hannah Presley had brought him. Though it was not a cure-all for his current circumstances, he found the soothing drink a suitable contrast to the heated exchange between Daniel Jackson, Major Davis, and the diplomats.
The negotiations were little more than verbal sparring. One ambassador would jab. Daniel Jackson or Major Davis would parry. Time passed with little achieved, the ambassadors unwilling to compromise on any ground. It was obvious why all three of the diplomats had been sent to Antarctica.
They were petty fools and cowards.
Major Davis sagged back against his chair. “Our standing orders are to find weapons that will protect Earth against the Goa’uld.”
“Weapons which have radically altered the balance of power on this planet,” Ambassador Zhu said, stabbing a finger on the table. “That balance must be — ”
“An order which the UN Security Council supported,” Daniel Jackson continued, ignoring the woman. “If it wasn’t for the Ancients weapons platform, Anubis wouldn’t have been just a threat, he would have — ”
Ambassador Zhu harrumphed. “Anubis is gone. There is no need for the weapons platform to remain here in Antarctica in violation of the treaty.”
“Madame Ambassador, we need more time to study the chair before taking any chances it — ”
“No more waiting. Certainly your scientists have had enough time now to determine the best means of removal.” Ambassador Duebel smoothed down the sides of his mustache, a mannerism of public grooming Teal’c found pretentious. “Per Article One, no weapons of any kind — ”
“But, sir — ”
“No!” Ambassador Juarez waved a finger at Major Davis. “The weapons platform’s presence violates the very spirit of the treaty. The Americans are fools to believe otherwise.”
Teal’c clenched his jaw in disgust.
Beside him, Daniel Jackson sighed. “You really believe that? After everything we’ve done to protect you?” He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That chair is the only reason — ”
“You keep bringing up the same argument,” Ambassador Juarez roared. “This only proves my point. Americans abuse Earth’s resources as if — ”
“Enough!” Teal’c leapt up and faced the enemies of his friends. The three ambassadors froze in their chairs.
Daniel Jackson glanced in his direction, began to shake his head, and then stopped. “I think Teal’c would like to add something to our discussion.”
Teal’c gazed steadily upon the ambassadors, allowing his stature to create a moment’s pause. Would it also allow him to impress upon them what was at stake?
Finally, Ambassador Duebel shrugged. “Though Mssr Teal’c has no say in these matters, I am willing to hear his perspective. Objections?”
“It matters little,” Ambassador Zhu said with a tilt of her head, “but we will allow him the courtesy as a guest.”
“This is a waste of time,” Ambassador Juarez murmured.
Teal’c turned toward the Argentine Ambassador. “Then I will be brief.”
Ambassador Juarez opened his mouth to speak.
Teal’c stepped closer. “I have served this world for more than seven years. I will have my say, Ambassador.”
The man’s face went white and he shut his mouth.
Satisfied, Teal’c returned to his chair. “I wish to speak to your accusations that the Americans are fools — ”
“That is none of your concern — ”
“You are wrong, Ambassador Zhu. It is the concern of every being in this galaxy. Your territorial disputes mean nothing to me nor to the Goa’uld.”
Once sure the Chinese ambassador would hold her tongue, Teal’c pressed on. “These Americans you denounce as fools, it is they who have sacrificed hundreds of lives in defense of this world. Sacrifices that have included many men and women I named friends. To call them fools dishonors their memory.”
“Forget us Americans for a moment,” said Major Davis. “What about the Russians? They’ve sent several teams through the gate. They know firsthand — ”
“The Russians have become American puppets,” said Ambassador Juarez.
“Puppets,” Ambassador Zhu added, “who are rewarded in a manner you refuse to share with others.”
Teal’c observed the exchange of glances between Major Davis and Daniel Jackson. He knew what rewards the Chinese ambassador spoke of. Rewards she had yet to openly ask for. If O’Neill believed them unworthy of the F-302 fighter jets, Teal’c trusted his friend’s judgment. O’Neill was not Apophis or some other Goa’uld demanding blind trust. His trust had been earned.
And yet, if the Americans gave the Chinese the plans to the F-302s, would they not have one more ally?
“Puppets and fools,” muttered Ambassador Juarez. “The Russians and Americans deserve each other.”
“And so you would dishonor their deaths as well?”
All three ambassadors suddenly found the table in front of them to be of great interest.
Daniel Jackson leaned toward him and whispered, “I think the ambassadors get your point, Teal’c.”
“I do not think so. Indeed, in their attempts to discredit the Ancient weapons platform, they not only dishonor those who have given their lives to protect this world, but its inhabitants as well.”
Ambassador Duebel crossed his arms. “Do not presume to understand what Earth requires, sir.”
“It is you who does not understand. Many countries have sent representatives to train with General O’Neill in the use of this technology, including your own. They do this to defend Earth. All of Earth. Should you not honor these people by seeing what it is they do before dismissing their efforts by dismantling the weapons platform?”
The ambassadors remained silent. Ambassador Duebel picked at his pant leg, while Ambassador Juarez stared at a wall, the lines on his face deepened by his scowl. Major Davis had found something worth removing from his sleeve while Daniel Jackson used the moment to clean his glasses.
Ambassador Zhu arose from her chair, awarded Teal’c a glare, and then went to the far window where refreshments had been set up. Outside, the sunless day cast a colorless pall over the base.
“We have somehow digressed from the subject at hand,” Ambassador Zhu said as she retook her seat, a glass of water in hand. “The chair must be moved, and further, China remains emphatic that our people should know the details of the Stargate Program. Allow us to decide what is right and what is wrong.”
“To use your own words, Madame Ambassador,” said Daniel Jackson, “we’ve somehow digressed from the point of this meeting. These negotiations — ”
“Remove the weapons chair from Antarctica or there will be no negotiations.” She turned away in her seat, a clear sign of dismissal.
The Chinese ambassador played at a game, nothing more, Teal’c reminded himself. He reached into his pocket and took hold of his tretonin as a distraction. The cool glass and metal vial served to remind him of the greater picture. For the Jaffa to find the freedom from the Goa’uld he enjoyed, they needed these Tau’ri to cooperate.
“Ba’al would support your demands to dismantle the chair,” he finally said. “As would Moloc. Amaterasu.” He kept his voice low. Deliberate. “Perhaps even Lord Yu.”
Ambassador Juarez whirled toward him. “Quiénes son?”
Teal’c leaned forward, his face neutral. “I speak of other System Lords who would happily see the Tau’ri destroyed. They wait, patiently, believing themselves far superior to your planet’s abilities.”
“How well you have been indoctrinated by the Americans,” said Ambassador Zhu. “More ghosts under the bed to scare us?”
Major Davis interrupted. “If the Chinese really think the chair should be removed, why send one of their own for training?”
The two other ambassadors gaped at Ambassador Zhu.
“Is this true?” asked Ambassador Duebel.
The Chinese diplomat merely shrugged. “She is there only to placate my government and the IOA.”
“A political appointee who just happens to have the ATA gene?” Major Davis asked.
Zhu bowed her head. “An unnecessary exercise.”
It was then Teal’c saw an advantage and took it. “The Chinese do not strike me as a people who waste time on the unnecessary.”
“I must agree with our alien visitor.” Ambassador Duebel rose. “In fact, I wonder if China has a specific place they wish this weapon moved.”
“Is this true, Madame?” Ambassador Juarez’s chair toppled backward as he jumped up. “Your country holds rank on the IOA. Did you intend to have the weapon platform for yourself?”
Ambassador Zhu’s chin lifted in cold defiance. “I resent what you imply.”
Ambassador Duebel once again smoothed his mustache. “We imply nothing, though there is merit in reconsidering our positions based on this newest information.”
“I agree,” Ambassador Juarez said.
Ambassador Duebel faced Major Davis. “Could a tour of the Ancient outpost be arranged?”
“Absolutely,” said Major Davis, a relieved smile on his face. “When would you like to go?”
Ambassador Duebel shifted his gaze to Ambassador Zhu. “Now, if that’s possible.”
“Just give me a few minutes to arrange a chopper.” The major headed toward the door, but then stopped. He turned back. “How many should I say will be going?”
“I will go.” Ambassador Juarez joined Major Davis at the door.
Ambassador Duebel favored Teal’c with a smile. It was open. Honest. Possibly even apologetic.
“We shall all go.”
Jack studied the faces of the IOA trainees. The ‘anybodies’ Carter had referred to earlier. They stood in various forms of attention against the wall opposite the weapons platform. Oval origin patches on their red-fleeced pullovers marked them as Europeans, Russians, and Americans. Ten military, two civilians, the trainees ranged from a sixty-something retired U.S. Army vet to a Chinese girl barely out of her teenage years. A dozen genetic freaks in all, each one with the genetics to kick-start the Ancient tech.
Anybodies. Just like him.
A couple of them coughed, a few scuffled their feet. A last check of his clipboard, a forced smile, and he called the roster, hoping to God he’d remember who was who.
“Okay,” he said as cheerfully as he could, “who’s first?”
Ten hands shot up. No surprise, all the military folks had volunteered. The two civilians just stared at the weapons platform, a matched pair of terrified grins plastered on. One was an Italian, a guy by the name of Michael Castellano, with a ponytail long enough to use for rock-climbing. Then there was the Chinese girl who looked too young to be there. Lanky limbs, long hair pulled back. Too fresh-faced. The girl reminded him of Cassie when she was sixteen.
General Hammond strode into the room. As Jack met his gaze with a nod, the general joined Carter and Lee behind the chair. The brainiacs kept futzing with the Mark II, but so far, so good.
Jack returned his attention to the trainees. He waved at a young man with dark-hair and a serious buzz cut. “You first.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said with a French accent.
“Name?” Grabbing his clipboard from the platform, Jack gestured for the nugget to take the hot seat.
“Sub-Officer Andre Charpentier.” He slid into the chair.
“Sub?” Jack asked. “As in submarine?”
“Oui. I serve aboard the Améthyste, a nuclear-powered submarine.” He reached for the armrest controls. “The rank is not unlike a sergeant in your nation’s — ”
Jack stopped him before he could palm the controls’ gel packs. “Listen, Carpenter — ”
“It is Charpentier.” He stretched out the last few syllables as if he was talking to an infant.
“Yeah, whatever. I’m not sure how things operate — ”
“General…” This from Hammond.
Whoops. Jack kicked his normal self to the back of the bus and tried again. “Sgt. Charpentier,” he said, emphasizing those elusive last syllables. “Go ahead. Put your palms on the controls, nice and — ”
The chair activated, tilting back as he followed his instructions. “Like so?”
“Sweet.” Flashing Charpentier an encouraging grin, Jack turned on a small boom box Carter had set up for him behind the chair. A perfect mix of P90 reports, zat fire, and a few staff weapon eruptions to boot. The noise bounced off the walls in a melodious cacophony of battle.
Yep, he missed that sound.
Charpentier bolted from the chair. “I cannot!”
“What?” He shouted over the sound effects. “I haven’t even told you what to do yet.”
Charpentier stepped down from the platform, flinging a hand at the boom box. “How do you expect us to concentrate with that infernal noise?”
“Okay! Okay!” He punched the sound off. Carter gave him a bemused grin and then returned to tinkering with her gadgets.
Jack faced the trainees. “Hear me out, folks. If and when you’re called on to operate this chair, the enemy will attack without hesitation. You will have backup. You will have people protecting your six — ”
“Our what?” asked one of the German trainees. Jack was pretty sure his name was something Merkel. Peter or Paul or one of those saintly names.
“He means your rear-end.” This from Ryan Hall, the gray-haired army vet. Hall was a bit too smug for Jack’s liking, but what choice did he have?
Jack took a peek at his watch. Eleven hundred hours. Lunch couldn’t happen soon enough.
“We’re ready for the next trainee, sir.”
Thank God for Carter.
“Okay, folks.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s try this again. Who’s next?”
A sea of raised hands answered his call. They were an enthusiastic bunch, that was for sure.
He pointed at the Eastern European gal. “Okay, you. Name?”
Thin, blonde, and with pretty much the saddest eyes Jack had ever seen, the trainee stepped forward. “Private Dora Vukovich, sir.”
Jack checked the list. “You’re from — ”
“The Republic of Serbia.” Vukovich raised her chin.
“Climb on in.” He gestured at the chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Vukovich sank into the chair, rested her hands on the gel-controls, and the lights flashed on. As the chair tilted backwards, she closed her eyes. “I am ready, General O’Neill.”
“Good job, Vukovich. I’m going to turn the boom box back on, okay?” When she gave him a quick nod, he flipped on the sound effects.
The chair remained active. So far, so good. Time to see what she’s really made of.
Jack stepped in front of the chair and waved his hand in the space over her head. “Now… Think about Earth.”
Vukovich’s eyes snapped open. “I do not understand.”
“Just imagine you’re in space, looking down on the planet.”
Bingo. Earth came to life in all its holographic glory. A shiny blue marble with a honking big land mass centered near the southern pole.
“That is not Earth!” a trainee called out behind him. “Have you never seen a globe or even a satellite photograph?”
Jack shut off the boom box and whirled around. It had been a girl’s voice. With a Chinese accent. He jabbed a finger at the culprit. “Pipe down because you’re next. Name?”
“Weiyan Shi,” the girl managed to squeak out.
“Civilian?”
The girl bobbed her head nervously.
“Okay, Shi. I’m guessing you were too busy to pay attention in General Hammond’s briefing.” Jack scowled at the trainee.
Merkel raised his hand. “The Ancients representation of Earth is from long ago. From when the continents were as one.”
“At least someone took notes.” Maybe too many notes. Jack tucked that observation aside and flipped the battle symphony back on. He turned toward Vukovich. The hologram of Earth still hung in the air, nice and solid. “You’re doing fine, Vukovich. Now imagine there’s some other someone up in space with you. Some big bad goon — ”
“No. I will correct the display.” The girl squeezed her eyes shut.
“That’s not the point.” Jack glanced up at the global display. The midsection bulged outward. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I will prove the civilian wrong. Not just anyone can serve in the Serbian army! I am not an idiot.” Vukovich’s face reddened as she kept up the strain of whatever-the-hell she was doing.
The platform began to vibrate. Nothing huge, but enough to put Jack’s teeth on edge. On the head’s up display, the sphere became an egg, then a cube. The land mass stretched upward with what could have been a lopsided version of Europe — including the old Soviet Union — spread across the top half. The whole thing looked like a fun house version of Earth.
Carter stared at the display too, her brow furrowed. “Sir, you might want to get her to stop.”
“Yeah, look, Vukovich. That’s enough.”
“Ništa. No.” She gripped the chair’s arms.
The platform’s vibrations intensified. And then, something fell on Jack’s head.
Ice dust… From the outpost’s ceiling.
Someone yelped. Jack quickly glanced toward the trainees. One of the trellised panels had fallen on the Chinese gal.
He turned back around and yanked Vukovich from the chair. “I said cut it out!”
The rattling stopped immediately. The image collapsed, the chair turned off. Vukovich ran from the room. A collective gasp raced across the trainees as Jack watched her go, completely confused.
When no one moved to pull the panel off Shi, he jumped down off the chair platform and helped her out. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her.
“No, no, no,” the girl mumbled. She yanked up her left sleeve and then her right. She ran her hands up and down her bare arms not once, not twice, but three times. It was as if she was looking for injuries that just weren’t there.
If the girl was a hypochondriac, she wouldn’t last more than a day.
“Shake it off, Shi,” Jack barked at her deliberately. If the Chinese were going to send a civilian, he had no other choice but to give her a crash course in hanging tough. “A few bumps and bruises never hurt — ”
“Take a thirty-minute recess, people,” General Hammond announced to the room. “If you’ll follow me, I believe lunch is available in the break room.”
Stunned, Jack could only watch Hammond stomp past, frowning. The general shook his head in that don’t-argue-with-me way of his.
What the hell?
Shi tugged down her sleeves and followed Hammond out through the archway. The other trainees trailed close behind.
Jack looked over at Carter and Lee. “What the hell just happened?”
“We’re on it, sir!” Carter pulled a stool up to the computer and pounded at the keyboards.
How the hell were these nuggets going to fight the Goa’uld if they couldn’t handle a little technological hiccup? Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not for lunch, that’s for sure.
He headed off toward main chamber. Maybe there was cake. Which would be a good thing. It would take a helluva big piece to knock down the bitter taste in his mouth.
There were times George was near convinced God put him on Earth for one reason and one reason alone — to keep Jack O’Neill in line.
The man had to see the bigger picture. Otherwise, the trainee program was doomed before it had gotten off the ground. While everyone else finished lunch, George followed Jack back toward the chair room. Just as they passed the Ancient stasis unit, he pulled Jack aside.
And got an earful. The trainees were unfocused. They were too young. Too old. The civilian additions were worthless. All the while, Jack fiddled with the stasis unit’s molding as if he was trying to pry the thing apart. Thankfully, the blue-gray metal and silhouetted rivets wouldn’t budge, but Jack continued to yank at its edges. The activity kept him in one place so George allowed him the outlet.
The man was no fool. Clearly something else was bothering him. After a few rounds of the man’s whispered frustrations, however, George knew he had to shut Jack down. “You need to take a step back, son. There’s more here than meets the eye.”
“You could’ve fooled me, General.”
“Everyone wants the same thing, to protect Earth.”
“Maybe the military trainees, but civilians, sir? Really?”
George sighed. “Be patient. They’ll fall into line.”
“General, I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth. Heck, I’d follow you to the end of any planet, but if the Pentagon picked these people, it makes me wonder what the hell they were thinking when they promoted me.”
“You know very well that the Pentagon had no say in the selection of these trainees. The IOA did the base genetic testing. Furthermore, none of these volunteers are even aware of the whole program. They don’t know about the Stargate and — ”
“Everything all right, sirs?” Dr. Lee had poked his head out of the weapons room.
“Just hunky-dory.” Jack stepped closer to the stasis controls, his back to the scientist.
Ignoring Jack’s ill temper, George faced Lee. “We’re a bit busy here, Doctor. Is there something you need?”
“Ah… No, sir.” Lee blinked a few times, like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs. “Colonel Carter’s running one last test on the Mark IIs. I was going to see about getting another shipped down from the SGC for backup. If that’s okay with you, General O’Neill?”
Jack’s face darkened, but he kept his tone civil. “Yep, sure. Whatever Carter wants.”
“Right, thanks.”
When Lee was out of earshot, George returned to dealing with his troubled charge.
Jack stared into the stasis unit, his hands braced against each side. “I can barely remember getting into this thing.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
A shadow passed over Jack’s face and he dropped his hands.
“Look, I understand your reservations, but the IOA believes including other nations will help Homeworld Security’s cause, not hurt it.”
Jack spun toward him. “Sir, I request permission to be reassigned.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m thinking the Alpha site.” Jack smirked, a clear tell that he was blowing smoke at himself as much as anyone else. “Heck, I’ll even go babysit one of those science outposts Carter helped set up. Anything’s better than here because if the president keeps letting the IOA tell us what to do, there won’t be a here much longer!”
George straightened up to his full height. Maybe he wasn’t as tall as Jack, but he sure as hell had the stars to back him up. “General O’Neill, you are not alone in securing Earth’s survival.”
“I know that, sir.” Jack returned his gaze to the stasis unit. “It just feels that way sometimes.”
“Imagine how it’ll feel when you’re in a Pentagon office with nothing more than a couple of pens for weapons.”
Jack whipped his head around so fast that it was a surprise it didn’t fall off.
“You’re surprised?” George smiled at his protégé. “I still plan on retiring in the not-too-distant future. Someone needs to take over.”
“Begging your pardon, sir. I respect your job. Your title. Your efforts.”
“But?” George crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable.
“Well, sir. It’s bad enough being on the sidelines — ”
“Why would I want you in the nosebleed section?”
“Sir,” Jack lowered his voice, “while I like to say I took the job as head of the SGC because of the pay bump, the truth is… I took it so the other guy wouldn’t.”
“General Philips, you mean?”
Jack scowled. “Philips is a moron.”
“And now? Admit it, you like the position. At least some of the time.”
“I like it when my people get home safely. That was easier to do when I was out in the field, watching their sixes — ”
“It’s a fine thing, being a hero who’d die for their country.”
“I don’t mean it like that, sir.”
George waved his apology aside. “It’s one thing to die for your country, but right now this planet needs heroes who would much rather live for it.”
“General O’Neill?” It was the Castellano boy. He rushed up, his long ponytail flopping behind him.
“Yeah?” Jack said wearily.
“We’re ready, sir. Just say the word.” The young Italian attempted a salute. It was sloppy, his hand practically flopping outward as he finished. Between the grin and the salute, George liked the young man instantly. His heart was most definitely in the right place.
Jack frowned. “Just say the word?”
Castellano brought himself to attention. “We really want to help protect the planet. We just need you to show us how.”
Jack’s frown softened. “Sounds like a plan, Castellano.”
Cautiously relieved, George put a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Why don’t you gather the others and bring them in? General O’Neill will be there shortly.”
With a grin, Castellano threw another salute and dashed off toward the main chamber toward the awaiting trainees.
Jack raised a hand to the back of his neck. “Oh, geez…”
“Look, I know this isn’t easy.”
“You can say that again.”
“You’re a general now. Your job isn’t about tactics anymore. It’s about strategy.” He jerked a thumb at the trainees who had begun to head back into the chair room.
“And having a strategy that involves drop-kicking them isn’t going to fly,” Jack murmured. “I get it.”
“Just pretend they’re from another planet,” George advised. “Give them the same respect, the same leeway.”
“I suppose…”
“Those men and women want to learn how to defend this planet. And I think they have as much right to as you do.”
“Yes, General.”
“So go and train them.”
Jack flung off a mock salute not much better than Castellano’s.
George found himself laughing. It felt good, considering the last few hours’ tension. “And Jack?”
“Sir?”
“Try to call me George. We’re equal rank now.”
“Au contraire, mon general! I’m just a measly little brigadier. You’ve got two more stars on those shoulders, sir. I’ve a long way to go ‘till I’ve earned them.”
“You’re damn right,” George answered with a smile. “Now teach those folks how to do their part.”
With a nod, Jack headed back into the chamber.
“General Hammond, is this a good time?”
George turned toward Daniel Jackson, newly arrived along with Teal’c and the three quarrelsome ambassadors. Hopefully, seeing the weapons platform in use would convince them to back off their demands to dismantle the chair. Removing the chair from Antarctica was too big a risk right now. They didn’t know enough yet about the technology to guarantee it could be reassembled and work as needed.
George had read the SGC’s most recent casualty reports. The Goa’uld were still out there and still wreaking havoc. Without Earth’s best line of defense, those reports would only get worse.
Though Jack made an effort to be as courteous as possible, he stuck to his guns and called on Weiyan Shi next. She climbed into the chair and the panels lit up instantly.
So far, so good.
Before he could even ask, she called up the display of Earth.
“Nice work.” Determined to make Hammond happy, Jack smiled broadly.
The girl silently followed his orders. The further into the session they got, the more Jack began to believe that a civilian — at least this civilian — might not be un-trainable. The girl had definite potential.
Maybe Hammond was right. If he thought of these nuggets as aliens, cut them some slack, then maybe — just maybe — they could make some honest-to-God headway.
“Why have you not turned on the sounds?”
“You want them on?”
“I do not wish to be treated differently.” Shi kept her focus on the globe floating overhead.
Huh. Jack could appreciate that. He reached over to the boom box to turn it on.
“Actually, sir…” Carter joined him by the base of the chair platform. “Before adding battle sounds, it might be worth seeing if she can tap into some of the other displays stored in the platform’s memory banks.”
“I will try.” Shi settled further back into the chair.
A small commotion at the room’s entrance caught Jack’s eye. Daniel and Teal’c. With them was some older Chinese woman. One of the ambassadors, most likely. She shoved her way up front past the trainees. All scowls and fists. He raised a hand palm-up at his former teammates, the universal sign for ‘what gives’?
Daniel shrugged apologetically. Teal’c dipped his head in greeting. Jack decided that either meant negotiations went off without a hitch or things were SNAFU. Knowing the SGC’s luck as of late, his bet was on the latter.
Carter climbed up on the platform. She peered down at the girl, giving her one of those big grins that could make a Goa’uld think twice. “What’s your name?”
“Weiyan Shi. Please, call me Weiyan.”
Carter smiled. “Okay, Weiyan. You’ve seen pictures of the solar system. Can you try and call one up in your mind?”
Weiyan squeezed her eyes shut. In a heartbeat, the hovering Earth morphed into a three-dimensional image of planets, moons and a bright glowing sun smack dab in the middle. Jupiter came around for a pass, an all too familiar sight. Jack had seen the planet firsthand, thanks to his little expedition with Teal’c when Apophis had rigged their X-302 for a one-way ticket to nowhere.
He counted the planets off in his head. Nine total. No, wait. A tenth slid by. Then another. “Carter, is that our solar system?”
Carter stepped off the platform. “It’s possible.”
“With eleven planets?”
She leaned in and whispered, “Sir, the Prometheus has found several new planets out beyond the Kuiper asteroid belt. We just haven’t made it public knowledge yet.”
“Uh, guys?” Daniel joined them by the base of the platform. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep. Didn’t you get the memo?” Jack crossed his arms, going for nonchalance. It wasn’t often he was a heartbeat ahead of Daniel when it came to the science stuff. Might as well enjoy it while he could.
A quick glance back at a grinning Hammond made his euphoria all the sweeter. Okay, maybe training these nuggets wasn’t so bad. It certainly beat dealing with paperwork back at the base.
Which anybody could do.
“Did it work?” Weiyan opened her eyes. She gazed up at the display with the barest glimmer of a smile. Almost as if she’d never done it before — the smiling part, that is.
As far as the map was concerned, Jack was pretty damn sure that had never happened before, either. Certainly not him or Sheppard for that matter.
“General O’Neill, you are wasting precious resources.”
Jack turned toward the voice. It was the pushy Chinese ambassador. He opened his mouth, wanting nothing more than to tell her to take a flying leap, but Hammond shook his head.
Oh, yeah. Diplomacy. Act like a general. Right.
He forced a grin he wasn’t feeling. “Seems to me she’s doing an outstanding job, Ma’am.”
“I am not a ma’am,” she said through gritted teeth. “As the appointed ambassador from China, I order you — ”
“Tíng zhǐ! Do not interfere!” Half-risen from the chair, Weiyan gripped the arms. If anything, the backlit panels glowed hotter. The color deeper, bluer.
“Remove her,” the ambassador demanded. “Do it or I will!”
A hushed gasp ran through the trainees. They backed away from the chair.
“No. This is where I belong.” Weiyan held onto the chair. “Bie li wo.”
The two fell into a whiplash of Chinese, but Jack held back, unsure of what to do or what to say. Their voices grew louder, the trainees backed away further.
The rumbling started up again. Nothing huge, but Jack recognized it from this morning’s aborted session. He hesitated, unsure what Hammond would want him to do with this incipient Chinese civil war.
The tremor kept up. Jack glanced at Hammond for help. The general put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Madame Ambassador, would you please come with me?”
She crossed her arms. “I will not.”
The arguing between the two women grew louder. The rumbling kept up, too, like a freight train chugging through a station. Behind Weiyan, the chair’s back panel lights pulsed.
“What the hell’s going on, Jack?” Daniel whispered.
“You tell me. You’re the linguist!”
“They’re talking so fast, I can’t.”
“Weiyan, get out of the chair!” Jack gestured at Teal’c to remove the ambassador.
Teal’c slid in front of the near-crazed woman, blocking her access to Jack, Carter, Daniel, and more importantly, the chair where Weiyan…
Sobbed?
The rumbling intensified. Ice dropped from the ceiling. A rock-sized piece barely missed Carter. “Dr. Lee! Enable the safety program!”
“I can’t find the pass key!”
Carter started off toward the monitors, but stopped short when another chunk of rock fell in front of her.
“The girl’s a fool,” the woman ranted. “A disgrace — ”
“No!” Weiyan shot up from the chair. “I am not some little girl.” She pounded a fist on the near gel pack.
A burst of light, an awful cracking sound of the floor splitting in two, and Jack found himself falling. Carter, Teal’c, Daniel… Their bodies tumbled against him as he spiraled downward.
A flash of red. Weiyan was falling, too.
A horrible roar filled Jack’s ears. His arms flailed, seeking purchase, but he kept falling.
Until he hit bottom. Then, the last sound he heard was his head smacking something hard.
With a sigh, he sunk into the black.