Sam let her duffel bag drop to the floor as she surveyed her new, extremely empty apartment. There wasn't a stick of furniture in the place, let alone anything to set on it. Looking around the expanse, she counted herself fortunate to have light bulbs. She couldn't believe how lost she felt. Even when she was over-seas in a tent, things had felt more "homey." Of course, there were other people to share the newness with. Here, all there was, was her.

Crumpling to the floor next to her bag, Sam didn't care how un-ladylike she looked sitting there in her dress blues, knees hugged to her chest. God, she missed Sheila! When she thought back to the warm welcome she'd received three years ago, she felt like crying. Of course it didn't help she'd said good-bye to her friend only that morning. Or while she was at the airport she'd spotted Jonas down the hall, pacing, as if trying to decide to speak to her or not. Just as he started to move forward, they announced her flight, and Sam took the opportunity to leave before he had a chance to talk to her.

They hadn't spoken since she'd given him back the ring, and part of her missed him terribly, while the other was still angry with his attitude. If she spoke to him, she wasn't sure which part was going to win out, and emotionally she couldn't afford either choice. So, she ran. Got on the plane as soon as she could, and didn't look back.

Now, here she sat, in her depressing one bedroom walk-up. Apparently the apartments in this section of town were reserved for military personnel working at the Pentagon, and someone had arranged for her to take over the lease upon her arrival. Sam really was grateful this chore had been taken care of, considering the whirlwind day she'd had, but was it too much to ask for to have a chair or a bed?

Getting to her feet, Sam noticed a phone was installed. Picking up the receiver, she found it had a dial tone. Well, at least she could order some dinner. That is if she could remember her new address. A staff car had dropped her off, and the driver told her someone would return at 0700 tomorrow to take her back to the Pentagon. One more thing to be thankful for--at least she didn't have to try to navigate around Washington.

Navigate, she laughed. How far was this assignment from flying planes? Or shuttles for that matter? How the hell was this going to get her into NASA? Was Project Giza *really* worth it when she was now so far removed?

This was not the time to be making career choices, Sam realized. She was lonely, depressed and just a little overwhelmed by the importance of her new posting. She knew she had to give her new assignment a shot before she threw in the towel and asked to go back to NORAD or some other routine lab job.

Sighing, Sam decided the first thing she was going to have to do tomorrow was get a bed, even if it just consisted of a mattress on the floor. She'd roughed it in Saudi, for goodness sake, she chastised herself. She could handle a new apartment!

Unpacking her uniforms consisted of moving them from the bag to a designated spot on the floor of her bedroom. As she stacked the outfits, Sam realized the BDUs wouldn't be of much use. She was going to have to requisition more dress uniforms. One day in heels and she was ready to swap them for her army boots. Too bad Colonel Sanders didn't feel it was appropriate to relax the dress code as much as he did other regulations.

She had to admit she liked him. Although she wasn't quite sure what to expect, Colonel "Chicken Man" Sanders wasn't who she envisioned. Marla had taken her to lunch to acclimate her a bit with the facility, but Sam found it difficult to concentrate on the woman's gossip when she had no clue whom the lieutenant was talking about. After her first day in the Office of Scientific Research and Development, she felt comfortable, more than she had anticipated.

After calling for a pizza delivery, Sam broke down and called Sheila. Laughing with her over the state of her new living quarters helped Sam feel better, even as she wished her friend wasn't so far away.

"Did you see Jonas at the airport?" Sheila asked.

"Yeah. You talk to him?"

"I said 'hi,' but that was it. He seemed kind of embarrassed I caught him there. How are you doing with that?"

"Oh, Sheila," Sam sighed. "I don't know. I mean I know I did the right thing in breaking it off with him, but it's so hard, you know? We were together for so long, even though he wasn't always around, I was still part of a couple. It's hard to think of myself without him."

"Yeah," Sheila agreed. "You *did* do the right thing, Sam."

"I know," she said, her words echoing off the barren walls.

"Someday your prince will come," Sheila laughed.

"Yeah, but with my luck I will have walked right past him," she said. Suddenly changing the subject, Sam launched into a tale about her new C.O. "Hey, you are *not* going to believe who my new boss is. . . ."

*********

Sam settled into her new job with surprising enthusiasm. Science was a mystery that needed methodical unraveling, and she used the same techniques to ferret out how General West was getting around their office to get approval for the changes he'd implemented at Cheyenne Mountain. Apparently, the General had some friends in pretty high places who owed him some favors. Unfortunately, exposing the connection would do more harm than good. If an investigation ensued, the powers that be would, at the very least, put a halt to further research on the ring. And the worst case scenario would be the dissolution of the entire project. Sam couldn't allow that to happen. No matter how much it galled her West was getting away with it.

Sam sat in Roy's office, waiting as he read her report. He read surprisingly fast and almost before she'd settled into her seat, he was asking her questions.

"You end this on a rather ambiguous note, Sam. Any particular reason?"

"Well, I was trying to think of the implications of bringing this to the attention of those either involved or higher up. Project Giza is still a secret project even here within the Pentagon. If it's investigated further, I think it will ultimately cause more harm than good. It could attract public attention, and I think we both agree it's the last thing that should happen."

"Yes, I do agree with you on that, but I also don't like being made a fool of. The fact that West has gotten away with this doesn't stick in your craw? Especially since your removal from the project has something to do with this?"

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't, but this project is bigger than my personal needs. Isn't that what service in the Air Force is about? Serving the greater good?"

"Damn, Sam, you're getting me all misty, here," Sanders said, wiping away an imaginary tear. "Look, *I* don't like that he's getting away with this and I don't even know the guy."

"I can't say that I know him well either, but he's never given me the impression of having a personal agenda. He's just a nut about security! I think he's plain paranoid the ring is a weapon of some kind and he feels we haven't been taking his warnings seriously enough, so, he went around us."

"You know the most about that thing," Roy said. "Do *you* think it's a weapon?"

Sam scrubbed her hands over her face, sitting back in the chair. "Honestly, I don't know. Could it be a weapon? Yes, definitely. It could easily be some kind of bomb just waiting for us to figure it out and blow ourselves up. But if it *was* some type of explosive device, why such a complicated sequence to detonate it? It's taken us nearly fifteen years with three super-computers and we still haven't figured it out. I doubt the ancient Egyptians would have come up with the answer on their own."

Standing, Sam began to pace the room. "I'm going to say something you're probably not going to believe or at least think I'm crazy for believing, but I'd like you to hear me out."

Roy removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go ahead."

"You've read the reports stating the ring is made from a unique material, out of something that's not found on Earth." Roy nodded, motioning for her to continue. "Most of the speculation is that it's a chunk of a meteor that was fashioned into the ring. But how would ancient people have done that? It's nearly impervious to modern tools, let alone crude, early metal tools. I don't think it was carved with something available on Earth at the time." Sam looked at her C.O. who was peering at her between splayed fingers.

"What, exactly are you suggesting, Sam? That aliens left it here? That it's all part of that "Chariot's Of The Gods" hoopla? I thought that went out in the seventies."

"I know I'm going out on a limb here, but yes, I do. And I believe Catherine does too. She's never come right out and said it, but I think it's the real reason she tried to get Daniel Jackson involved in the project."

Sanders rifled through the papers on his desk, pulling one from near the top. "Dr. Daniel Jackson? The guy who claims Egyptian hieroglyphs are a derivative of a much older *alien* writing?"

"Um, that would be him," Sam admitted, casting Roy a sheepish glance. "Okay, it sounds ludicrous, but there are too many indications this is a *device,* not a bomb. Just for the sake of argument, let's say it *is* alien in nature. Obviously it comes from a culture far more advanced than ours, and certainly more advanced than the ancient Egyptians. These. . .others wouldn't need a bomb to subjugate the people. If destroying them was their objective, they could have wiped them off the face of the Earth, probably from space. They wouldn't need some complicated explosive device they'd have to wait for us to figure out."

"Assuming, for the moment you're right, what does this have to do with West going around this office?"

"He's convinced it holds a threat of some kind. Personally? I think he knows something we don't."

"What other information could there be? You worked with the team that's doing the research, you would know everything there is to know."

"Catherine told me about a discrepancy over some missing records when she began her research in 1978. According to General Perkins, the original Air Force liaison, there were records of prior experimentation."

Sanders flipped through the file before him. "I don't remember reading anything about that."

"I don't think it's documented," Sam said, taking her seat once more. "The army originally had jurisdiction over the ring, and Catherine *swears* there was a box of records stored in the same armory when she re-acquired the ring. However, when the object was moved to Colorado, the records seemed to have disappeared. I think somehow those files have surfaced, and General West has them."

Roy absent-mindedly tapped his fingers on his desk. "What if he does? What purpose would it serve to keep any information they might contain secret? If there *is* evidence the ring is dangerous, why not prove it's a threat and have the project shut down? Or if it isn't, why not supply Catherine with what might be a missing piece of the puzzle?"

"I don't know," Sam said, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't understand it either, but my point is, I don't think we should back him into a corner. He's gotten his clearance to take over the project and step up security. He seems happy with that. Maybe we should just bide our time and see if Jackson joins the project and he's the answer Catherine's been waiting for."

"And if he isn't?"

"Well, in that case, I think we're going to have to confront General West. Hopefully it won't come to that."

*********

It was later that same afternoon, Sam got a call from Catherine letting her know Daniel Jackson was now officially part of the research team.

"Dr. Jackson arrived this morning," Catherine told her. "He was more than a little overwhelmed by the facility, which, I suppose is to be expected. NORAD itself is quite impressive, let alone our little corner of Cheyenne Mountain."

Sam smiled. "Little corner, huh? Well, if you saw the figures for the budget, I don't think you'd use that term."

"I've seen the expenditure reports, and I agree this is a costly undertaking, but Sam, we're close, I can feel it. You should have seen Jackson when he saw the cover stones. I swear the man was having a religious experience!"

"Sorry I missed it."

There was the sound of an exhaled breath on the other end of the phone line. "So am I."

"So!" Sam said brightly, "how did Gary take meeting Jackson?"

"He was rather gracious, actually. So was Barbara."

"I didn't expect her to be inhospitable."

"Well, she and Gary have been on the project practically from day one and they have a tendency to stick together. I know Gary had misgivings, so naturally I thought Barbara would have them as well."

"I'm glad things went smoothly," Sam said.

"I wouldn't say they went 'smoothly,' exactly."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Once Jackson managed to regain his composure after seeing the cover stones, he noticed Gary's translation on the black board. Before any of us could stop him, he's mumbling to himself, erasing bits here, crossing off parts there, changing the translation almost completely."

"You're kidding!" Sam cried, sitting up taller in her chair. "Gary must have been fuming!"

"More disheartened than anything, "Catherine told her.

"Just because Dr. Jackson changed the translation doesn't mean he's right."

"I agree, but given what we've been able to piece together about the ring, I'd say odds are he *is* correct."

"What does *he* think the inscription on the stones says?"

"Something about 'sealed and buried for all time,' but the most significant thing he changed was the term 'doorway to heaven.' Jackson insists it should be read 'Stargate.'"

"Stargate," Sam breathed. "Catherine, this is one of the things we were speculating on! Do you think he's right?"

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but this does substantiate one of my favorite theories. What if this really *is* a portal to another world? An *alien* world that once had contact with our own?"

"I was just talking to Colonel Sanders about that very thing. He didn't come right out and call me a kook, but I could tell he thought I was on the edge of credibility."

"I'd be the first one to admit it sounds far-fetched," Catherine said. "But just because it sounds outlandish, doesn't mean it can't be true. Years ago, who would have even conceived of a construction such as NORAD? Or half the things we hail as 'modern miracles?' We may look like fools at the moment, but who'll be laughing if we're actually *right?*"

Sam rubbed a hand across her eyebrows. "Well, the Colonel may have me in for a psych evaluation, but I'll pass this along. For what it's worth, I believe you. I just have to make my C.O. see I haven't lost it. So, where do you go from here? Jackson may have changed the translation, but does that bring you any closer to finding out how to make it work?"

"If we head in this 'Stargate' direction, it might give us some place to start. At least it will eliminate some of the other things we've been trying."

"Has he seen the ring yet?"

"I wanted to show him, but General West insisted knowledge of the ring was on a need-to-know basis. Frankly, I don't know how he expects any results from Jackson when he's working in the dark, but it's part of our agreement. He won't dictate who I bring on the project, but I won't question his orders, either. It's kind of like working with one hand tied behind my back."

Although Catherine couldn't see her, Sam found herself nodding. "I think he's just biding his time until yours runs out."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you told me yourself these next six months are your last chance before the funding is revoked. Maybe West is just waiting you out, then he'll be able to close the project down for good. I suppose by not letting Dr. Jackson see the ring he's holding you up and keeping a civilian uninformed at the same time."

"I suppose that is what he's trying to do," Catherine agreed. "But it's not going to work. If it takes working around the clock, we *will* see this project through."

"Catherine, do you think West wanting to remove me was just to slow you down or do you think he has some other plan in mind?" Sam heard the woman's intake of breath and waited for her answer.

"I can't honestly say. Maybe both." In the background Sam heard a door opening, the sound of muffled voices, then Catherine on the line once more. "I have to go, but Gary and Barbara asked me to send their best. I'll let you know as soon as we know anything. Good-bye, Sam. Keep the faith!"

Sam smiled into the receiver, "you too. Talk to you soon." Slowly, she hung up the phone. What she wouldn't give to be back, deep inside the mountain, experiencing the thrill of yet another piece of the puzzle falling into place. Jackson must really be something to have deciphered the glyphs so quickly. She looked forward to the time she could actually meet him.

********

Two weeks later, Sam was beginning to settle into her routine at the Pentagon, and she was surprised to find she didn't mind the assignment as much as she thought. Of course Colonel Sanders and Marla had a lot to do with that. The relaxed atmosphere of their office made her feel at home almost from the start. It wasn't all that different from her first weeks working on Project Giza.

Although she wasn't conducting research of her own, Sam found herself fascinated with other projects the military had in the works. Unfortunately, she often found herself side-tracked by delving further into the proposals than her job warranted. More than once Colonel Sanders had to remind her she was there to help decide which projects should be granted funding for *other* scientists to work on. She wasn't there to do the research herself.

Sam imagined this was how generals felt, after finally working their way up the ranks. No longer were they allowed to join missions, only orchestrate them. It gave her new respect for her father's position, knowing how much he still wanted to actively participate. Just as she was dying to roll up her sleeves and dive into most of the proposals that came across her desk.

She was musing over her lack of involvement when the phone rang. Almost distractedly, Sam picked up the handset.

"Captain Carter."

"Sam! I have wonderful news!" Catherine's voice was so full of enthusiasm, she immediately had Sam's attention. Before she could ask what was so wonderful, Catherine rushed on. "Jackson's identified the seventh symbol! It was right before us the entire time!"

"That's amazing! Sam breathed. "Which one was it?"

"You remember how the cartouche contained six glyphs?"

"Yeah, they were the first six, so where was the seventh?"

"Just outside, at the base."

Sam mentally pictured the cover stones, trying to envision what would have been the seventh symbol. "There was no symbol on the ring like the one on the cover stones," she pointed out.

"Not exactly, no."

"Catherine, you're not making any sense. We tried every combination we could think of, we couldn't get past the six."

"I suppose I'm getting a bit ahead of myself," she said, taking a deep breath and slowing down her speech. "Soon after Jackson re-translated the text, he discovered the glyphs were actually representative of star constellations."

A final piece of the puzzle clicked in Sam's brain. "Of course! That's it! It makes perfect sense! Especially considering you now know the ring to be called a 'Stargate!' So that's why it hasn't worked! In order to find a point in space, you need seven co-ordinates and we only had six!"

"Correct. We were missing a glyph for the point of origin."

"So, how did you find this glyph if it's not on the Stargate?"

"Here's the interesting part. Jackson was explaining his theory to General West, Colonel O'Neill and some of my staff. When he claimed there was a seventh glyph, one that was outside the cartouche, Gary made the mistake of commenting there was no symbol like that on the device. Needless to say, Jackson was confused. I told West, Daniel needed to know, that he couldn't get any further without the seeing the Stargate. He wasn't happy with me, knowing I'd cornered him in front of so many people, but he relented. If I thought Daniel had been in awe seeing the cover stones, the Stargate had him totally captivated."

"I can imagine," Sam smiled. "I remember the first time I saw it. A feeling like that never leaves you."

"I can second that," Catherine replied, voice thick with emotion. Clearing her throat, she continued. "In any case, before we could stop him, Jackson was out of the conference room and down into the control room, taking in all of the equipment used to operate the Stargate.

"At my suggestion, we started the inner ring moving so he could see how it worked. You know how the center monitor shows a close up of the chevrons being locked? Well, Daniel's eyes were on that screen when he noticed the semi-triangular glyph. He had us stop the ring, and on either side of the 'tent' he drew a figure that matched the symbol outside of the cartouche! I don't know why we didn't notice the similarity before, or why all the other glyphs are the same on the stones as they are on the ring. So, we input the new co-ordinates into the computer, tried it, and Sam, it worked! Oh, God, I wish you could have been here to see it!"

Listening to Catherine's narrative, Sam felt a tingle travel down her spine. However, her excitement was short lived at the thought she'd been left out of the Stargate's activation. It didn't help matters that Catherine's new "golden boy" had been the one to unlock the secret she and the others had spent years on. For the first time, she realized how Barbara and Gary must have felt when she'd made progress on the ring. Not that they weren't pleased with the discoveries, but there had to be a twinge of resentfulness there as well. Just as she was feeling now.

"Catherine, that's marvelous news!" she responded, hoping her voice sounded sincere and not like a jealous sibling. "So what happened when the seventh chevron engaged?"

"It's hard to describe. There was this 'whoosh' of air, and what looked like a whirlpool of water exploding from the ring. Then it collapsed back on itself, leaving what appeared to be a puddle of water, trapped within the ring by some invisible force."

"It sounds like how a wormhole would react," Sam murmured. "The invisible force could be the event horizon."

"You'd be the one who could confirm it. This is way beyond anything I know. It seems to be the consensus, though."

Sam found the hand not holding the phone's receiver clenching into a fist. She should be there! She was the one who would know what they were looking at! "So, what happened after the phenomenon stabilized?"

"General West had a probe sent through. The images weren't very clear, but one thing we *did* see was the partial image of a Stargate on the other side. I'm telling you, Sam, I still get goose bumps just thinking about it!"

"So, now what? He can't just leave things like this! What other kinds of data did the probe send back? Is there a breathable atmosphere?"

"From all indications, it seems to be a planet that mirrors our own. Perhaps the reason the Stargate was left here in the first place."

"West *is* thinking about a recon mission isn't he? Catherine, if he is, I *have* to be on that team! You have to convince him to let me go! They're going to need what I know!"

"Sam, calm down! There's no word yet on what action is going to be taken. General West is still dragging his feet. It's actually O'Neill who's pushing for this mission."

"You sound surprised."

"Well, he's been nearly as reticent as West. It's almost as if he's *looking* for danger, wanting to take the risk. It's odd, considering his main focus up until now has been keeping us from progressing. From exploring what the Stargate can do."

"What do you suppose caused his change of heart?"

"I'm not sure, but he and West shared this look, and now he's all for seeing what's on the other side. Like his main objective has changed. I have no idea what goes on in a soldier's mind. Maybe you have some insight into that."

"It was obviously something the two of them had discussed before," Sam speculated. "Otherwise I doubt a simple look would have changed O'Neill's mind."

"O'Neill can be pretty unorthodoxed, so I'm assuming he's in agreement with whatever silent orders West had given him. Oh, wait, Gary just handed me a memo." There was a silence for a minute or two as Catherine read to herself.

"Sam? You still there?"

"I'm here. What did it say?"

Again there was silence as Catherine hesitated. "West has given the go ahead for a recon mission through the Stargate."

"That's fantastic! Look, I can catch a transport and be there in. . ."

"Sam, the team has been selected. It's to be O'Neill, three other Special Ops. officers, and. . .Jackson," she finished quietly.

"What?! Catherine you can't be serious! West is crazy! He knows I'm the best chance that team has in case the other Stargate isn't working! And sending a *civilian?*"

"I'm sure he isn't happy about it either, but Jackson made a point--he did figure out the seventh symbol on the Stargate. From the video transmissions we received, we could see the glyphs on the second Stargate are slightly different. Besides, that 'gate is going to have a different point of origin which someone's got to identify. Sam, you're good. You know your science, but Jackson knows languages. In this instance he is the best choice."

Swallowing her pride, Sam closed her eyes momentarily as she replied, "okay, you're right. But I should be there too. If West has some kind of 'personnel limit,' have him bump one of the Special Ops guys. I can handle whatever they can."

"Sam," Catherine sighed, "this mission is planned to leave at 1500. There's no way you could be here in time."

Sam glanced at her watch. 1200. Damn! "Talk them into delaying, just another hour. What's one more hour?"

"I've already tried talking to them. I've done everything I can short of lying down on the ramp to prevent them leaving. Sam, I'm truly sorry, but General West is not going to allow you on this mission. I don't know why, but I'm doing my best to find out. I know how hard this must be for you. . . ."

"No, I don't think you do," Sam said, her voice cold. "I know you did your best, and for that, I thank you. I better let you go. You don't want to miss them leaving. Let me know what happens." Before Catherine had a chance to add anything, Sam hung up the phone. She was shaking so hard, her teeth were chattering. Clutching her arms across her chest, Sam practically collapsed onto her chair as her knees gave out.

This was no mere disappointment of being left behind. This wasn't as simple as another soldier being chosen over her for some inconsequential mission. This was her life, her passion. All she cared about since she'd began working on Project Giza was seeing it to it's conclusion. Finding out what it was and what it was capable of. And now it was truly gone. Oh, she could read the reports, listen to the tales of those that were there, but it wasn't the same as experiencing it first hand. Christ, West wouldn't even allow her there for the test! What the hell did he have against her anyway?

Sam wiped her face, surprised to find her hand wet. She couldn't remember crying, but obviously she had. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the rest of the moisture from her face, checking her appearance in the small hand mirror she kept in her desk. Her make-up hadn't smudged. Good. It was the first thing that had gone right today.

"Okay, Carter, suck it up," she said aloud, squaring her shoulders. "Is this anyway for an Air Force captain to behave? You keep saying you're just as tough as they are? Well prove it. Get over it." Sam replaced the mirror, pushing the drawer closed. Hastily, she made some notes and stood, ready to deliver the latest news to Roy. Perhaps if she buried herself in official business, she could forget how numb she still felt.

*********

Sam was half-way through her seventh gin and tonic when Marla removed the glass from her hand.

"Hey! Sam cried, working at focusing on the woman across from her.

"Come on, Sam. That's number seven."

"Seven chevrons, seven drinks. Appropriate, don't you think?" Sam asked, swaying slightly in her chair.

"Look, when you asked me to come out for a drink with you, I didn't think you were out to break some kind of record. I know you had a disappointment today. . ."

"Disappointment?" Sam spat, sounding more coherent than she had in the past half hour. "It's over. Everything I care about is gone," she said, cradling her head.

"It's not that I don't sympathize with what you're going through," Marla said, genuine concern scrunching up her facial features. "But I really need to get going. John was stopping by tonight, and. . ."

"Say no more," Sam said, sitting up-right, waving her hand through the air with an uncoordinated sweep. "Far be it from me to stand in the path of true love."

"Let me call you a cab," Marla offered.

"Okay, so I'm a cab," Sam said, trying to stifle a giggle. "Oh, I must be drunk. I'm starting to quote Henny Youngman."

"Who?"

Sam lay her head down on her crossed arms that were resting on the cocktail table. "Well, maybe I've got the comic wrong."

Marla picked up her cell phone, ordering a taxi. Sam managed to sneak her drink back while she was on the phone, which the lieutenant promptly removed once more.

"Come on, Sam," she said, helping her to stand. "The cab will be here any minute." Sam stood on unsteadily legs, leaning heavily on Marla. "You sure you can make it home okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Sam said, emphasizing the word "fine" with an exhaled breath. "I'm fine. Sam Carter is always fine."

Marla gave her a doubtful look as she glanced once more at her watch. "Hey, I'll cover for you with Roy if you're not up to coming into work tomorrow."

"I may take you up on that," Sam said, clutching her stomach. God she felt sick! *Please don't let me get sick now,* she prayed.

"Hang in there, Sam. I think I see your cab."

The taxi pulled up in front of the bar's entrance with a screech, causing Sam to take a step backward. If this guy drove her home at that rate of speed, he was going to have an unpleasant reminder of her time in his car.

Marla helped her in, giving her address to the driver. "Call me tomorrow, okay? And I meant what I said about Roy."

"Thanks, Marla," Sam said, giving the woman a weak smile. "I definitely owe you a binge of your own."

"Not too soon, I hope," she smiled. "'Night Sam."

Sam closed her eyes, as she heard the door click shut, but was unprepared for the sudden burst of speed as the driver pulled into the early evening traffic. Clutching at the door handle, Sam found herself praying once more. Not only that the contents of her stomach would remain in place, but that she'd live long enough to make sure it did.

*********

Sam raised her head from the arm of the sofa at the sound of someone insistently knocking on her door. She had no idea who it would be, especially since Marla had left for her hot date. Maybe she'd been overcome by a sense of protectiveness and wanted to assure herself Sam was still breathing.

She'd managed to shed her uniform, but still mysteriously wore her stockings and shoes. Wrapping her robe tighter, Sam made her way to the door.

"Who is it?"

There was a beat then the sound of a man clearing his throat. "Jonas."

"Fucking great," she muttered, surprising even herself at the uncharacteristic use of profanity. Opening the door, but leaving the chain attached, Sam put her face to the small space, eyeing half of Jonas' body. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," he said, his voice low as he looked around the hallway.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you. Go away, Jonas."

"Sam, please! I came all this way! Just give me five minutes, okay?"

Sam looked away from the crack in the door. She didn't need this now. Not on top of everything else. What did God have against her today, anyway? Shoulders slumping in defeat, Sam closed the door enough to remove the chain, then flung it open. She stood there, hand on her hip, blocking his entrance.

"You've got five minutes."

Jonas took in her appearance with a sweeping glance. "New look, Sam? Can't say it does much for you."

"Always the charmer," she said, allowing him to pass.

Jonas' gaze was traveling around her small, sparsely furnished apartment. "I see now Sheila was the decorator in the family," he said, starting to remove his coat.

"Don't bother," she said, nodding at his coat. "You're not going to be here that long."

Jonas actually had the grace to look crestfallen at her words. "What's with all the hostility? I know you weren't expecting me, but I didn't think you to be so venomous."

"Didn't you? Jonas, it's over. You wouldn't even consider discussing ways to cope with my assignment here. You made it pretty clear Special Ops was more important than me."

"Kind of like your little project was more important than me?" Jonas shot back. Sam didn't have a counter for his argument, so she breezed past him, entering the kitchen.

"I've missed you, Sam," he said at length.

"Yeah, so much I haven't heard a word from you in over four months," she replied, back turned to him.

She had to admit, she missed him too. Maybe that's why she was being so antagonistic. Anger was a good defense against the feelings he could still evoke in her. But it wasn't the Jonas of late she missed. It was the man she'd met at a party commemorating her advancement to captain. That man didn't seem to exist anymore. However, Sam couldn't deny the person before her still had the power to stir her heart. She wanted to believe it was just the alcohol, but she knew the truth. She was lonely and it wouldn't take much persuasion on his part to lure her into his arms again. No matter how wrong it was.

"I was giving you some space, some time to think," he said, shrugging off his coat, despite her warning he wouldn't be there long.

Sam turned to face him. "About what? I doubt very much if things have changed. It was a waste of your time coming here."

"It's my time to waste," he said, toying with a picture frame on an end table.

"I'm surprised you didn't come armed with flowers. After all, that's your usual tactic."

"I thought about it," he admitted. "I was serious when I said I was here to talk, that's all."

Sam felt her resolve slipping. "So talk."

Jonas gave a mirthless chuckle, rubbing his eyebrows. "You know, now that I'm here, I'm really not sure what to say. I had this whole speech worked up on the plane, but I can't seem to remember a word of it."

"Well, you better think fast, because your time's running out." Just then Sam swayed, one hand clutching her stomach, the other clamped over her mouth. ". . .gonna be sick. . . ." Turning and taking two steps to the sink, Sam felt the contents of her stomach rising to her throat.

Hunched over the sink, Sam felt Jonas' hand on her back, rubbing gently. "Deja vu," he said. "You okay?"

"I will be," she said, spitting into the sink, reaching for a glass to fill with water.

"I take it you don't have the flu?" Jonas asked.

"No."

"Pregnant?" he ventured.

Sam's head popped up, her eyes half-lidded as she stared at him. "I won't even dignify that with an answer."

"Sooo. Sammie went out on a bender," Jonas said, his tone almost smug. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I don't anymore," she quipped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Come on," he said, helping her to the sofa. "Sit down before you fall down."

Sam settled on the couch, as far from him as possible. Kicking off her shoes, she drew her legs to the sofa, as her head fell against the back of the couch.

Adjusting his position, Jonas turned to her. "So, what brought this on?"

"Nothing. I felt like a drink, okay? I just got a little carried away. It happens, you know."

"Not to you it doesn't. Sam, in the years I've known you, I've never seen you falling-down drunk. A little tipsy, but that's it."

"I guess you don't know me as well as you thought," she glared at him.

Jonas looked down, playing with the band of his watch. "No, I guess I don't. You used to be able to tell me what was bugging you."

"'Used to' being the operative words here. Look, Jonas, I'm *really* not up for this tonight. Couldn't we find some other time to play 'remember when?'" Sam felt her eyelids droop and she wasn't sure if Jonas answered her or not as sleep overcame her.

*********

Sam's eyelids fluttered open as she recognized the scent of coffee brewing. It would have been delightful if she had a coffee pot with a timer, but since she didn't, it had to mean Jonas hadn't left last night. It also explained how she ended up in her bed when she'd fallen asleep on the sofa.

Pulling her pillow over her head, Sam groaned into the feathers, wishing her head would stop pounding. She flung the pillow aside once the need for air became too great. She didn't want to leave her bed, have to face him and his insistence on talking once more. Glancing at the clock, she noted she could still make it to work if she hurried. Although Marla told her she'd cover, Sam didn't want to instigate another round of questioning from Roy by not showing up.

Still clad in her robe, Sam made her way to the kitchen, noticing Jonas as he helped himself to the freshly brewed coffee. Turning around, he smiled at her.

"'Morning. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," she admitted. Not caring how rude she sounded, Sam asked, "Jonas, why are you still here?"

Taking a sip from his coffee, he thought for a moment. "We never talked last night. So, being the gentleman I am, I helped you to bed and spent the night on the couch. You obviously didn't pick that one for comfort," he complained, stretching his back.

"I don't recall inviting you to try out the accommodations." Sam passed him to retrieve a mug from her cupboard. It seemed pointless to ignore the coffee when she could really use it. "I don't know what there is to discuss," she said, filling her cup. Moving to face him she added, "you need to be in control, and I can't live like that. End of story."

"I'm going to see someone again. Another. . .psychologist." He could barely bring himself to say the word. Setting down his coffee, he stepped closer, grasping her upper arms. "Look, Sam, I'll do anything you ask. Just please say we can try again!"

Sam shrugged off Jonas' hands. "You just don't get it, do you? I want you to see a psychologist because *you* think you could use some help, not because I want you too. That was the problem before. You weren't serious about therapy--you just did it because you thought it was what I wanted!"

"Didn't you? Weren't you the one who was always asking how things were going with Dr. Fredricks?"

"Yes, I did, but it was because I was concerned about you. If you really wanted help, you would be in therapy right now, regardless of what I think you should do. We've played this game before, and we both come out the loser."

Jonas tapped his fingers on the countertop, glancing back up at her. "So that's it? We're really through?"

Sam felt her throat constricting as she blinked back unshed tears. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

"It can't be that hard, you're still throwing me out of your life."

"Would it be better to pretend everything is okay? Would you rather we had an ugly fight down the road once we realize--again--that we weren't meant to be?"

Jonas picked up his coat, sliding his arms into the sleeves. "Well, at least I could have had the illusion for a little longer."

Now Sam's tears did fall slowly down her cheeks. "That's the problem. It's always been about your perception of events. You telling me how I should think and feel. Always dictating where I should be. You're not God, Jonas, as much as you would like to think so."

Walking to the door, Jonas stopped before turning the door knob. He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed. "We'll see each other again, Sam. And when we do, you'll see how wrong you are."

She let him go without another word, sagging against the door when he'd left. Wiping away the last of her tears, she whispered, "oh, I wish I was."

*********

The next few days didn't improve as Sam kept replaying her encounter with Jonas and her last conversation with Catherine. It had been four days. Shouldn't O'Neill and his team have returned by now? Why hadn't she called? Roy had told her on more than one occasion to either cut the caffeine or get a hobby, because she was driving him nuts with her fidgeting. She'd tried to be patient, knowing sooner or later there would be a report of the Stargate mission, but the longer it took, the more agitated she became.

Something had obviously gone wrong, or else Catherine would have filled her in on the details. Or she was so busy analyzing data, she didn't have time to pick up the phone?

Sam was in Roy's office, discussing her latest project recommendations when Marla tapped on the door.

"Sam, Catherine Langford is calling for you. You want to take it in here?"

"I'll take it in my office, that is if it's all right with you?" Sam asked, glancing at Sanders as she rose.

Roy dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "Run along, Captain. I *do* expect a full report, though," he said, peering at her over the rims of his glasses.

"Yes, Sir!"

Sam tried not to seem too eager as she crossed to her office, but she knew both Marla and Roy were watching her, as curious as she to discover what had happened at Cheyenne Mountain.

"Catherine!" Sam cried once she was on the line. "I've been going nuts here! What happened? Everything go okay? Everyone back in one piece?"

"Well, there were some complications," Catherine admitted quietly.

"Complications?"

"It's Jackson. He didn't come back with the others."

Sam was speechless. She knew how excited Catherine had been at the prospect of working with the young man. Being the solitary civilian, and the only casualty, West was going to have a bird.

"Catherine, I'm so sorry." The words caught in her throat as she thought of the exceptional linguist she hadn't even met. "What happened?"

Catherine tried to steady her voice. "There. . .there was a nuclear bomb that destroyed the other gate. Apparently it was West's intention all along to assess the risk to Earth, and destroy the other 'gate if necessary."

"And Jackson?"

"O'Neill reported he didn't make it back to the Stargate in time. He was killed along with the rest of the people on Abydos."

"Abydos?"

"It's what the people called their planet. As if we needed any further evidence the race using the Stargate had stolen those people from Egypt."

"Wait a second," Sam said. "You've lost me. The Stargate was used to relocate people to another planet?"

"Yes. Slaves who toiled same as the would have on Earth. The only difference being, these people never over-threw their oppressors. Essentially they're at the same level technologically as they were when they were taken from Earth."

"This is incredible," Sam mumbled. "It's like a page out of history! Do you know how much we can learn about the ancient world from these people?"

"Could have. Past tense, Sam. O'Neill followed his orders and blew up the Stargate on Abydos. I'm sure no one survived the blast," Catherine said bitterly.

Sam was dumbfounded. How could O'Neill make the decision to destroy an entire *world?* No, it wasn't just his decision. He was merely a cog in a greater wheel. It was General West and the person he had in his pocket here in Washington. They all had a say in O'Neill's orders. Now his appointment to Project Giza was starting to make sense. Jack O'Neill had resigned due to emotional difficulties. Who better to send on a suicide mission than a man who didn't value his life? God, she felt sorry for the men sent to accompany him!

Another thought hit Sam point blank. This was why she'd been transferred. Why West wanted her off the project. At the time she didn't understand his cryptic words, professing her "too valuable an asset" to be working on a single civilian project. It seemed ironic he was actually looking out for her welfare, as he was plotting the annihilation of an entire people. From the time he replaced her with O'Neill, he'd been planning this. His alleged co-operation with Catherine was only so he was in a position to implement his plan. Sam never considered West to be a stupid man, but his unbridled paranoia cost the world more than just the counterpart to an alien device. It deprived Earth of a passionate scientist and a chance at discovering first hand how an ancient culture lived. It was a incalculable loss on both counts.

"Well, I have my answer as to why West had me transferred," Sam said at length.

"I guessed the same thing. Perhaps it was for the best that you were away from here."

"And what about all of you? You were 'acceptable' risks?"

"Apparently so." From the tone of her voice, Sam imagined Catherine shrugging with her last statement.

"Catherine, maybe you should back up. Start at the beginning."

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the phone line, then she began. "O'Neill is in the process of writing up his official report, but I can tell you what he told me. Apparently when they got to the other side, the other Stargate was housed in some sort of building, which, it turned out, was actually the base of a great pyramid.

"O'Neill and his team did a quick recon of the area, probably for appearance sake, and when he ordered Jackson to re-dial the 'gate, Daniel said he couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"According to O'Neill, Daniel needed a symbol for the point of origin which he assumed would be near the 'gate, as it was on the cover stones for our Stargate."

"And it wasn't," Sam supplied.

"The colonel tried to play down how annoyed he'd been with Jackson, but I'd seen how he treated him here. I'm sure he threatened Daniel within an inch of his life if he didn't find the missing glyph."

"Catherine, you don't think O'Neill had anything to do with Jackson's death? Other than bad timing?"

"No, no!" she answered quickly. "O'Neill is a lot of things, but he wouldn't willingly sacrifice one of his team."

"And yet he could murder an entire population. How many people were there on Abydos?"

"He said he saw about 5000. Who knows the actual number."

"God," Sam breathed, closing her eyes, hoping to shut out the memory of what it had to be like to kill that many people at once. She had a hard enough time rationalizing it during a war, let alone on what *should* have been a mission of exploration. When had it turned into a first strike situation? She should have realized this was West's intent all along.

"So," Sam swallowed, trying to keep the bile from rising into her throat. "Daniel must have figured out the sequence or they wouldn't have made it back. Wouldn't he have been the one to send them home?"

"If he was still alive at that point."

"I don't understand."

"Unfortunately, O'Neill and the others *did* encounter a threat. There was an alien who'd taken human form, posing as the Egyptian god Ra. He was the one who'd brought the people from Earth to be his slaves. And the one continuing to enslave the people."

Sam did some quick math. "You mean he was a descendant of this 'Ra.'"

"No, I mean the actual alien who'd taken a human body."

"But that's impossible! It's been thousands of years!"

"According to the colonel, this Ra had some type of 'rejuvenation' device that not only keep Ra perpetually young, it was capable of restoring life."

Sam felt her fingers tingling. What she wouldn't give to have a look at a machine like that!

"Needless to say, Ra fit the parameters for what would be considered a threat to Earth, so O'Neill went through with his plan to blow up the 'gate, taking Ra, the ill-fated Abydonians and Jackson with it."

"God," Sam said again, falling into her chair. "If only there'd been some other way."

"I agree," Catherine said, her voice void of energy. "We're starting to run some other calculations, other permutations to see if there may be other Stargates out there somewhere, but so far nothing's come up. I'm really beginning to think the link was only between Abydos and Earth. If that's the case, we'll never know what race it was who came to Earth all those years ago, or if they'll ever return."

Sam had been so elated when Marla told her Catherine was on the phone. Now all she felt was depressed. Not only for the loss of Daniel Jackson, but the wealth of information lost. All because they'd gone to the planet as a military operation rather than a research mission. But then, she wasn't there. Who's to say this threat from Ra might not have compromised Earth if O'Neill hadn't stopped him?

"So, what now?" Sam asked.

"There's talk of decommissioning the Stargate. I'm sure you'll be getting a memo about it shortly. Sam, I'm going to give politicking one last try, so I'll be in Washington tomorrow. I'll bring Colonel O'Neill's pre and post-mission reports with me. They'll explain things better than I did. I just thought I should call you before you went completely crazy."

Sam smiled. "Thank you for that."

"I have another favor to ask. Any chance you could pick me up at the airport?"

Sam was taken aback. Catherine always had a car waiting for her. "Uh, sure. Something up?"

"No, we really haven't had a chance to talk much lately."

Sam was puzzled by her somewhat cryptic statement, but brushed it off. For some reason there was something Catherine didn't feel comfortable revealing on the phone. "When does your flight arrive?"

"Eight a.m. Perhaps we could grab some breakfast?" she suggested.

"Eight it is. I'll see you then."

Sam hung up the phone, still perplexed at Catherine's request. She hoped whatever it was it wasn't something that was going to compromise her position in Roy's office.

*********

Sam slid into the booth at the restaurant they'd chosen for breakfast, as she watched Catherine removing her coat before joining her. Sam's nails tapped an impatient rhythm on the table top as she waited for Catherine to settle. She'd refused to discuss her reasons for wanting to see Sam alone while they were driving, and she'd about reached the limit of her patience.

"Catherine," Sam said, closing her hand over the woman's as she reached for her menu. "We're not driving any more. Now tell me. What's such a big secret you couldn't tell me on the phone?"

Catherine opened her mouth just as the waitress approached their table offering coffee. Biding her time, Sam waited until they both had a cup before them before raising her eyebrows as she looked at her friend.

"I know you think I'm being overly dramatic, but I believe there's a tap on your phone. Information is getting out somewhere, and it leads back to the Office of Scientific Research and Development. These are O'Neill's reports," Catherine said, sliding two non-descript folders to her across the table. "These are his 'official' reports," she stressed.

"Of course they are," Sam said, picking up the top folder and quickly paging through the papers. The plain manila folder concealed the interior file that had "classified" emblazoned on it's cover. She shouldn't even be opening them in a public area, much less reading them, but Sam had to get a look at the contents. She couldn't wait to pore over them later when she returned to her office.

"Sam, I don't think you understand. This is what O'Neill *said* happened. Not necessarily what did."

Sam closed the folder, placing both documents on the seat next to her. "What are you talking about? Are you saying Colonel O'Neill left something out of his reports?"

"According to him there is a 'minor discrepancy.'"

"Which would be?"

"The fate of Daniel Jackson and Abydos."

"That's what he calls *minor?*" Sam loudly whispered.

Catherine's gaze swept the room, as she leaned closer to Sam. "Jackson's not dead."

"And the people of Abydos?"

"Celebrating their victory over Ra, I should think," Catherine said with a smug grin as she picked up her coffee cup.

"So, why the secrecy? Why the lie? Why *hell* did you let me believe O'Neill committed genocide on that planet?"

"You reported back to Colonel Sanders after I talked to you, correct?"

Sam took a drink of her cooling coffee. "You know that's standard procedure."

"And if I *had* told you about it, you would have felt obligated to tell him what you know."

"I still do," Sam confirmed.

"And what if he's the leak?"

Sam felt her mouth drop open. "I highly doubt he or Marla would be selling secrets!"

"Think about it. The inside track on what projects the government plans to back could be some very valuable information. Worth a lot of money to the right people."

"You're crazy. Neither Roy or Marla have an expensive lifestyle. There'd be no reason for them to be a mole."

"I appreciate your loyalty, Sam, but I don't think you're being objective. Perhaps I am being a bit paranoid, but it seems someone outside your office and Cheyenne Mountain has an interest in the Stargate. No one is even supposed to know it exists outside of a few special committees. For all I know, it could be one of them. My point is, I don't think we can be too safe when it comes to discussing the details of that mission."

"Well, a little caution doesn't hurt," Sam admitted.

"So, where was I? Oh yes. O'Neill's first report. Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled he'd put me through hell when he'd told me Daniel was dead, but he said he owed the man a favor. Also, he thought someone outside of the military needed to know the truth, should something 'unexpected' happened."

"Unexpected?"

"Colonel O'Neill is, or was, Black Ops. He knows how 'accidents' happen."

Yeah, and so did she. Jonas might have thought he was keeping the darker side of his work secret from her, but Sam wasn't a first-year cadet. "Jackson being left on Abydos would be worth killing a man?"

"Who can say what the government would consider dangerous information?"

"So he puts you at risk by telling you this?"

"I suppose he might have, but really, what reason would Colonel O'Neill have to lie? And what possible reason could there be to tell a civilian archeologist?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

Sam waved her hands in the air. "Okay. All that aside, why would Daniel want to stay on Abydos?"

"You said it yourself, Sam. The chance to study an ancient culture, up close and personal? Colonel O'Neill *would* have had to kill Jackson to get him to leave that planet."

Before Sam could comment, the waitress returned to take their order. Alone once more, she asked, "So O'Neill didn't blow up the 'gate on the other side, but I know his type. He wouldn't have left Abydos if Ra was still a threat."

"He didn't. The bomb was aboard Ra's ship; it detonated in space."

"So why all the lies? Why not just tell West what really happened?"

Catherine shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure, but I can tell you one thing: the man that came back through that Stargate was not the same man who left."

"You mean you think he was compromised in some way?"

"No, nothing like that. It was more like he'd gotten dose of reality. Remember how I told you his eyes looked 'dead?'"

"Yeah. I remember he kind of freaked you out at first."

The ghost of a smile graced Catherine's lips as she toyed with her silverware. "To say the least."

"So, what's different now?"

"I don't know. It's hard to put my finger on, really. It's like he's not so 'ridged,' such an automaton like he was when he left. He had some sort of epiphany on that planet. What it was, I doubt I'll ever know."

Breakfast arrived, giving Sam a moment to review all Catherine had just revealed. Glancing at the folders, she knew she had the power to bring down O'Neill in the palm of her hand. But what would that accomplish? Get a re-activated soldier a dishonorable discharge? He'd eliminated the threat to Earth, that was what was important. If he went about it in a slightly unorthodox way that pleased his superiors, what did it matter?

Suddenly Sam's head snapped up. "Oh, my God!" she mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. "The 'gate! If the colonel didn't blow up the bomb on Abydos, the Stargate must still be intact!"

Another enigmatic smile crept across Catherine's face. "It's not destroyed. Only buried."

"Why bury it?"

"They had to make it look real, like Abydos *had* been blown up, otherwise West would have sent another bomb through. As it was, the probe they sent was flattened on the other side, satisfying the general their mission had been accomplished."

Sam paused, fork in mid-air. "I still don't understand why O'Neill told you this. Surly he must have realized what a risk he was taking telling someone outside of the team what really happened?"

"Maybe I look trust worthy," she grinned. "Actually, it was Daniel's request." Catherine was playing with her gold locket, the one she always wore. Looking up at Sam, she said, "I gave this to Jackson, for good luck. Colonel O'Neill returned it to me after the debriefing. That's when he told me what really transpired."

"I have to give you credit, Catherine. You're quite some actress. You certainly had me fooled with your grief over Jackson."

"That was no act," she said, allowing the necklace to fall against her chest. "I really will miss him. You would have liked him. You have the same passion for your work. The same curiosity. Who knows, maybe you will meet someday."

"I don't see how," Sam muttered dejectedly. If the Stargate on Abydos has been declared destroyed, there will be no reason to attempt another mission there. I wonder if Daniel really knew what he was getting himself into when he opted to stay on the planet. I mean, research is great, but if you can't share your results with anyone, what's the point?"

"Is that how you felt those years you worked on Project Giza? The reason you're still hanging on, working on the farthest edge possible?"

Sam looked a little sheepish. "Okay, I guess you got me there. But at least I can share my findings with you and the rest of the people I work with. Who's Daniel got? He's probably lucky if he can communicate with them, let alone discuss evolutionary theories."

"My dear, Sam. Sometimes there is more to life than the exploration of your chosen field of study."

Sam nearly choked on her orange juice. "And this from a woman who's lived and breathed the Stargate all her life."

"I wasn't always so consumed," Catherine confessed. "In fact, I almost married once."

It was obvious the memories weren't pleasant, and Sam wondered how wise it was to ask the inevitable question. "What happened?"

"Ernest was doing some top-secret research for the government in the forties when there was a lab accident. I never really got much more information than that, only that there'd been some sort of explosion killing everyone in the room. I never really got over him, I guess."

"Catherine," Sam said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry, I had no idea!"

"Well, not many people do," she said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. "I kind of threw myself into my work after that. I didn't have access to the Stargate, but there was always other archeological finds to explore. Most of the time I spent fighting with school administrations to be allowed on digs. It wasn't easy for a woman alone at that time."

"I can see now why you're so effective with the finance committees," Sam smiled.

"Yeah. Some legacy," Catherine chuckled bitterly. Checking her watch, she looked up at Sam. "Are you just about ready? I don't want to be late."

Sam grabbed the folders in one hand and the check in the other. Catherine tried to protest, but Sam insisted. "I think in light of the fact of what you risked to tell me this information, the least I can do is buy you breakfast."

"Very well, thank you."

"You're welcome. I forgot to ask--how long are you in town for?"

"Just today. I have a flight back to Colorado this evening."

"Need a ride back?

"No, I'm fine. Besides, you're going to be busy with those reports," she smiled.

"Will you have time to drop by the office before you leave?"

"I'd planned on it. I'm curious to see how it's run." The double meaning of her words didn't escape Sam. Catherine was on the look-out for her mole. While she wouldn't believe Colonel Sanders or Marla could be in on the plot, Sam couldn't think of anyone else who'd be in a position to profit from the information in her office. Maybe while Catherine was pleading her case, She could do a little investigating on her own.

*********

Reading over O'Neill's reports for the second time, Sam had to admit he was good. If he was honest with Catherine about what really happened on the mission, he'd covered his tracks damn good. Looking over the details, she never would have questioned they weren't an accurate representation of the events on Abydos.

Catherine was right about one thing--if she didn't know better, Sam would have sworn the pre-mission report and the post-mission one had been written by separate people. The first could easily been the product of the cold man who'd brushed past her that last day. Sentences were short and clipped, stressing the need for "immediate action" should a risk be assessed. Phrases like "by any means necessary," and "protecting Earth at all costs," kept jumping out at her. Obviously West had chosen a kindred soul when he hand-picked O'Neill to replace her.

The second report was equally brief, but some of the urgency was no longer there. Perhaps because the mission had come to its conclusion, but it was more than that. He seemed willing to justify his actions moreso than in the first report where he was merely following orders. The post report showed a man who was able to reinterpret his orders as situations changed.

Sam paged through both files quickly once more. She probably wouldn't have picked up on the differences in style as readily if she hadn't had the conversation with Catherine that morning. Now, reading between the lines, she noticed O'Neill had used many ambiguous phrases. In essence, finding a way to obscure the truth without actually lying. She was impressed.

Still, she felt uneasy keeping facts from Colonel Sanders. He was her commanding officer, and as such, she owed him her loyalty. But what about her loyalty to Catherine and her project? Isn't that why she was here? To make sure everything was being done to keep it alive? She truly believed Roy had nothing to do with secrets being leaked, but if she let him in on Catherine's information, she was jeopardizing O'Neill and his team as well.

Sitting back, Sam rubbed her hands over her face. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Six-sided with no clear options? Just then her intercom buzzed.

"Sam? You ready to share those reports yet?" Roy's voice echoed in the room.

"Yeah, I was about to come see you. It looks pretty cut and dry, but I'm sure you're going to want to see what O'Neill had to say." Sam winced, knowing she'd made her decision to leave out a few facts, just as Colonel O'Neill had.

*********

Catherine knocked on Roy's door, gracing him with a tired smile. "Mind if interrupt, Colonel?"

"Please, please," Roy said, rising to properly greet her. "Dr. Langford, it's been a long time."

"Yes it has," she said, giving him a quick nod. Sam stood, offering Catherine her seat. She started to refuse, then changed her mind, sitting on the edge of the chair. Sam noticed her hand shaking, and for the first time since she'd known her, Sam thought Catherine looked her age.

"Are you feeling all right?" She asked quietly, trying to avoid drawing undue attention to the fact Catherine looked like hell.

"Perhaps some water," she said, gratefully accepting a glass from Sam.

"You must be very proud, Dr. Langford! To be justified after all these years!"

"That goes without saying, Colonel. And please, call me 'Catherine.'"

"If you'll return the favor," Roy said giving her a charming smile. Sam stifled the desire to roll her eyes at Roy's fawning over Catherine. She couldn't blame him. She probably would have been too if she hadn't gotten to know her so well.

Catherine rarely blushed, and Sam was a bit surprised to find her friend flustered at his flattery. "My name may be at the head of the project, but I couldn't have done it without my loyal staff," she said, looking up at Sam. "It's a victory for everyone involved."

"I agree," Roy said. "I was just going over the mission reports with Sam, here, and I have to say it almost reads like science fiction. Who would ever believe the ring really is a portal to another world? I have to admit, when Sam first speculated on the nature of the Stargate, I thought she'd been watching a little too much Star Trek. I think I'm still in shock!"

"I think we all were," Catherine admitted.

Roy looked at the two women across from him. "You'll forgive me, but you don't seem particularly thrilled with your success. I realize the Stargate on Abydos had to be destroyed, but think of all you accomplished, not to mention figuring out an ancient artifact. That in itself is a monumental achievement!"

"I wish there were more people here in Washington with your enthusiasm," Catherine said quietly, taking a sip of her water, relieving the quaver in her voice.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Roy said, casting a glance at Sam who'd taken a position behind Catherine.

"I've just come from a meeting from the Appropriations Committee about continued funding. Of course it doesn't help matters this project is still considered so sensitive it's referred to only as 'Project Bluebook.' A few of the more conservative members of the committee are unwilling to continue backing an obscure project they can't really even talk about because they have no knowledge of what it entails. All they know is it's sanctioned by the President."

"I take it that isn't good enough?"

"Not for the kind of money I'm asking for. To be honest, I can't say I blame them, especially when I can't explain what it is I need the money for. I'm surprised we've gotten as far as we have. Of course, much of that is due to the recommendations from this office, and for that, I can't thank you enough."

"Don't kid yourself, Catherine. This wasn't any kind of personal favor. Even before Sam came to work here, Project Giza had my attention. You've made some amazing strides, and if my voice will lend any weight to your campaign for more money, you have my full support."

Catherine seemed to relax a bit before expressing her thanks once more. "I do appreciate your devotion to the Stargate, but I think we may be up against some insurmountable odds this time. What do you know about a new Senator by the name of Kinsey?"

Sam's head snapped up at the mention of the man's name. Her eyes flicked to Roy's and for a second they shared a moment of understanding.

"Only that he's been very vocal about government over-spending, especially where the military is concerned."

"He's also very vocal when it comes to secret projects. He practically laughed me out of the room! He's a very persuasive speaker, and before I was 'excused,' he'd convinced a good many of my previous supporters it was time the government severed its ties with the project. The official vote hasn't been taken yet, but I don't expect any kind of a reprieve this time. If I was allowed to show them some evidence, some tangible proof the money was being put to good use, I know the Committee would side with me.

"But as you know, it's under the military's jurisdiction again and I'm not at liberty to discuss any pertinent facts of the project with anyone. Apart from this office, that is. So, you see, I've finally reached the end. This was my last bid to keep the project going."

Sam could tell Catherine was close to tears, and she'd barely seen the woman get choked up before.

"It's not official yet, Catherine, but I promise, I'll do what I can," Roy said, glancing back up at Sam. She knew anything was going to be a token effort. The Stargate's fate had been sealed even before Catherine had left the room. All because Senator Kinsey maneuvered his way onto the Appropriations Committee.

Catherine nodded in acceptance, clearing her throat as she stood. "I'm sorry to have to cut this so short, but I've got a flight back to Colorado tonight."

"I understand. I appreciate you taking the time to stop in with your busy schedule."

Catherine smiled and nodded once more. "Would it be all right if I borrowed Sam for a moment? I always seem to get lost when I come to the Pentagon."

"Of course. Sam, just remember, you have a duty to perform here," he said pointedly.

Sam's eyes lowered momentarily before she raised them to him once more. "Yes, Sir."

*********

They walked in silence for several hundred feet before Catherine stopped, causing Sam to do the same.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That cryptic little sentence before we left. You know something, don't you?"

"Catherine, please. It was one thing not to tell Roy about the Intel you gave me when technically I can write it off as gossip. But he's my commanding officer! Whether it sounded like it or not, that was an order."

"You surprise me, Sam. Do you know what I risked when I gave you that information this morning?"

Sam bit her lip, torn between revealing what she knew and remaining true to her oaths.

"I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did," Catherine said, turning away from her, striding down the hallway once more. Sam watched her walk away, waiting a moment before she called out,

"You're going the wrong way."

Catherine turned to face her, arms crossed. "And you know the right way?"

Sam walked toward her. "I don't seem to know my way lately any better than you," she grinned. Catherine took a few steps toward her, meeting Sam in the middle of the hall.

"Roy and I discovered a connection between Kinsey and General West, shortly after I came here." Catherine waited for Sam to elaborate but she tugged on her arm, pulling her down another corridor. "Not here. Outside."

Once they cleared the building, Sam and Catherine huddled together, trying to stay out of the wind. "The first task Roy assigned me to was finding out how West had by-passed our office to get official military control of Project Giza. It seemed kind of obscure at first, but we had evidence of several meetings between West and Kinsey. Oh, they were very innocent. Public functions where they were sure to be seen by large numbers of people. Hiding in plain sight."

"That's kind of an odd pair, with Kinsey being so against government spending, and West part of a very expensive project," Catherine observed.

"It gets even stranger. Kinsey used his influence to get control of the project changed to the military."

"But that doesn't make any sense! He sat in that meeting, ranting about the perils of secret government projects while he gave his blessing to one?"

"I don't think it was in the interest of seeing the project to its conclusion. I think he wanted it shut down, and since West has been a doomsayer all along, he thought he'd found an ally. The only trouble was, you brought Daniel Jackson on, and before anyone knew it, he'd solved the puzzle of the missing glyph. Things moved too quickly from that point. You had West backed into a corner, and Kinsey couldn't stop a project he supposedly had no knowledge of."

"So, you think Kinsey knows everything there is to know about the Stargate?"

"I would say everything we know, although he's denying it, of course. You think there's a bug in my office, or maybe Roy's? If there is, I'll bet you he's the one listening on the other end."

Catherine practically snorted. "Well, from the accusations he was leveling at me, he seemed pretty 'informed' for being someone who kept claiming to be *un*- informed. Of course, if I brought this up to anyone, they'd say I was just being paranoid, grasping at straws because my funding had been yanked. God! Nothing galls me more than slick bastards like that getting away with something like this, all the while smelling like a rose!"

Catherine's cursing took Sam a bit by surprise. "All the more reason to keep the knowledge O'Neill gave you a secret as well. If Kinsey thought there was a chance the 'gate could be used again, I'm sure he'd find a way to have it destroyed."

Straightening her back, Catherine brushed the wind-blown hair from her face as she looked out over the landscaping. "This was certainly not how I saw this ending, especially after Jackson made it work. I had such high hopes." Catherine's voice caught. "I was so sure after seeing what the Stargate could do, I wouldn't have to fight so hard to keep the money coming. Now, I don't have any. And that's not the worst of it," she said, turning to look at Sam. "They're going to take it away from me. They won't work on it further, nor will they allow me to pursue my research. Even if I could come up with private funding."

"Catherine, I don't know what to say," Sam said, her own voice thick with emotion. "It hasn't been decided for sure."

"My eternal optimist," Catherine said with an indulgent smile. "For that I thank you. But there's no use sticking my head in the sand. No, I know it's over. It's just a matter of what they decide to do with the Stargate. You will let me know, won't you?"

Sam hugged herself, fighting off the urge to cry. "Of course I will."

Catherine stepped closer, enveloping Sam in a warm embrace. "I'm going to miss you. Stay in touch, all right?" Sam merely nodded, afraid her voice would fail her. "You better be getting back or Roy will start questioning your allegiance."

Sam pulled out of her arms, giving Catherine a quick nod before she turned to enter the building. Life was a series of beginnings and ends, but each ending became more painful than the last. Looking through the glass of the door, watching Catherine walking away, Sam had never felt so directionless in her life.

*********

~May, 1996~

It hadn't been an easy year for Sam. Seeing the official end to the Stargate project was nearly as hard on her as it had been on Catherine. There was the odd report out of Cheyenne Mountain, detailing the shut-down procedures, but nothing of any real consequence. Still, Sam kept every memo, every scrap of information that had to do with level 28, trying in vain to remain connected to a project she should have forgotten months ago.

It wasn't that there weren't exciting proposals arriving daily. Some of the projects had incredible potential, but none captured her imagination as the Stargate had. She'd even begun to wonder if she knew what she wanted from her career anymore. NASA had been her goal for as long as she could remember, but now, the thought of flying shuttles seemed so mundane. How could she settle for NASA's fledgling attempts at space travel when she knew how close she'd come to actually going to another *planet?* There were days she wished she'd never heard of Catherine Langford, level 28 or Project Giza.

Sam opened the bottom drawer of her desk, surveying the collection of reports, messages, and memos having to do with the Stargate. Why was she hanging on to all of this? How many times a day did she find herself paging through documents she knew by heart, only to make her feel as if she still played an active roll in it's operation. It was sick, she thought. Like hanging on to old love letters from some guy that dumped her in high school, just so she still felt there was some connection. She'd clean the drawer out, she decided. Soon. But not today.

Glancing at the clock, Sam noticed she was running late for her morning meeting with Roy. Sliding the lower compartment of her desk closed, she grabbed her notes for a new project. Giving Marla a quick smile, she knocked on Roy's door.

"Come!"

Sam entered the office, waiting for Roy to look up from his reading before she sat down.

"Sam! Good, good! Take a seat," he said, waving at the chair across from him. "I don't know why you're still so formal with me after all this time," he grinned.

"I have to keep on my toes for when they give me a 'real' C.O.," she smiled back.

"Well, that may be sooner than you think," he said, handing her a folder with "classified" stamped in bold letters across the surface. "Something to add to your little 'shrine.'"

"Sir?"

"Just read the damn report, Sam. It says it better than I can."

Sam opened up the file, noticing the first line read: "from the office of General George Hammond, Cheyenne Mountain, CO." She looked up at Roy for a second before reading further.

Hammond had replaced General West when the Stargate had been decommissioned. It was no secret the man was heading for retirement, and overseeing the closure of levels 12 through 28 was more "busy work" than an actual assignment.

Returning to the report, Sam quickly read of the events that happened the day before. She sat up straighter when she got to the passage about the Stargate activating, aliens having come through, and a female soldier having been abducted. As she continued, she saw Hammond had requested an audience with again-retired O'Neill, who was sticking to his original story of the events on Abydos fifteen months prior. Apparently Hammond was having trouble believing the 'gate on Abydos had been destroyed since the aliens had come through Earth's Stargate. He was recommending a new bomb be sent through to Abydos, to end the threat once and for all.

"No!" Sam cried when she read the final line of the report.

"Sam?"

"He can't do it! Roy, you can't let him send a bomb through!"

"And why is that?" he asked, sitting back, crossing his arms.

"Be. . .because if the aliens came through, that means the 'gate on the other side is still intact."

"Exactly Hammond's point, I believe. Sam, maybe West wasn't just blowing smoke up our asses. Apparently he was justified in his fears Earth could be invaded through the Stargate."

She had to think fast. She couldn't tell him about O'Neill's little "omission," not now, not after all this time. "Sir, let me talk to General Hammond! Perhaps there's some way we can solve this without destroying the other 'gate!"

Roy leaned forward once more, removing his glasses and looking Sam straight in the eye. His face appeared almost paternal as he tried to dissuade her. "Sam, I know what this project means to you--what it's always meant to you. But just because you want it to be this wonderful, amazing, *benign* thing, doesn't mean it is. It *could* be a genuine threat and the best thing for all concerned, if it *is* a danger, is to destroy it."

Sam jumped to her feet, pacing before Roy's desk. "I can't believe you actually said that! How many times have humans destroyed something just because we don't understand it? We keep claiming we've 'come so far,' and consider ourselves to be enlightened, but how 'enlightened' is it to shoot first and ask questions later? You know yourself when you read the reports from the Abydos mission you felt an incredible sense of loss. Wondering what we could have learned from the Stargate if it's counterpart hadn't been blown to hell! Well, somehow, we have a second chance at finding out, and I can't sit by and let it happen again!"

"I don't know that you have a choice. Hammond seems pretty adamant about making damn sure the 'gate on Abydos is eliminated."

Sam slid back into her chair. She had an ace up her sleeve. As loathe as she was to use family connections, she didn't see she had a choice. "Roy," she sighed, "Hammond is an old family friend. Let me try to talk to him. At the very least let me try to buy some time."

"How the mighty have fallen," he said, softening the sarcasm in his voice with a smile. Sam's eyebrows rose; her expression questioning his statement. "I only mean I never thought I'd live to see the day Sam Carter pulled strings to get what she wanted."

Sam looked down, not proud of the lengths she would go to, but she was resolute, nonetheless. Looking back up she said, "my back's against the wall, Roy. I never thought I'd stoop to using family ties, but the Stargate is worth the loss of my principles."

"Doing a little name dropping isn't the sin you seem to think it is, Sam." Roy tapped his fingers on his desk, shuffling a few papers as Sam waited for some decision from him. "Call him," he said at length. "See what you can do."

"Thank you, Sir!" Sam breathed, practically out the door before the sentence was spoke.

"Sam? One more thing," he said, stopping her at the door. "If Hammond decides he needs to see you, I can have you on a plane later today."

"Thanks, Roy," she said. "Anyone ever tell you you're a great C.O.?"

Sanders waved her out of the office. "Get out of here, Sam. No sense wasting that prime sucking up on me!"

Sam grinned as she shut the door behind her. Somehow, the threat of an alien incursion had just made her day a whole lot better.

*********

Sam had been trying for the past hour to get through to General Hammond. For a man on his way to retirement, things had suddenly become hectic. Hammond's secretary returned to the line, informing her that the general was simply too busy at the moment to take her call.

"Damn it! Have you even told him I've been calling?"

"Ma'am," the secretary told her in icy tones, "the General has been on the phone with the President. I doubt even you can top that connection."

"Yes, well, it's *extremely* important that I talk to him. It's Samantha Carter, *General* Jacob Carter's daughter, and I'm calling from the Pentagon."

"I'll give him the message. *Again,*" she replied, unimpressed with Sam's lineage. Sam hung up the phone, alternating between staring at it, willing it to ring, biting her nails and reading the report for the umpteenth time. She was just about to leave for coffee when the phone rang.

"Captain Carter? General Hammond's office calling, please hold." It was amazing how much friendlier the secretary sounded when there was a chance her boss could overhear her.

"Captain Carter? This is General Hammond. I understand you've been most eager to talk to me. But before we get into that, how's your father?"

"Um, he's fine, Sir. I only mentioned his name in the hopes you'd remember having met me."

"Well, Sam, I know it's been some years but I do recall meeting you and your brother. Probably a good thing you brought up Jacob's name or I wouldn't have put two and two together."

"Sir?"

"I doubt I would have realized the Sam Carter who's been cited as the expert on the Stargate was the same girl I met twenty years ago."

Sam had to smile at Hammond's chatty nature. Here he was in the middle of a crisis, and he had time to recall their meeting. She remembered him as being amiable, but he seemed to have mellowed even more over the years.

"What can I do for you?

"Well, Sir, it's about the report on the Stargate our office received this morning."

"Yes, well, that was probably sent out a bit prematurely. It should have been sent when our plans had been implemented."

"General, that's why I'm calling. I know you've assessed the Stargate as a risk, but I think destroying it would be a big mistake. There is so much more we could learn from it. *Valuable* information that needs to be retrieved. I think before any decision is made you should speak with Dr. Catherine Langford or Drs. Gary Meyers and Barbara Shore. They're the real experts on the Stargate; they've devoted their lives to its study."

"Captain, Sam, I understand as a scientist you want the opportunity to explore what this device is capable of, but as a soldier, you have to realize the risk it poses, and the President agrees with me. I've talked to Colonel O'Neill and he insists he did everything he could to prevent recent events from happening. Apparently we need to be a little more sure this time."

O'Neill was sticking to his story? Why had he kept quiet? Initially it had been to protect the knowledge Daniel Jackson was still alive and living on Abydos. Now he was willing to sacrifice Jackson *and* the Abydonians just so his report would stand up to a review board? Other than exchanging greetings in the hallway on her way out, she'd never met the man, but could someone who'd risked everything to protect Daniel a little over a year ago be willing to sell him out now?

Sam debated with herself. Catherine had told her O'Neill's secret in confidence. Did she have the right to betray that faith? What if her confession failed to move Hammond and had the opposite effect, and O'Neill was court-martialed; the bomb still sent? She had to take the chance George Hammond was the compassionate man she remembered. Although he wasn't a frequent visitor to the Carter household, Jacob often spoke of him as a man of integrity. He would do the right thing.

"General, I believe I have some information that might change your mind. It's about O'Neill's report." Sam hesitated a moment before she continued. "There were some omissions."

Hammond listened without interruption as Sam filled him in on the missing pieces to the puzzle. At first his silence worried her, causing Sam to wonder if she'd done what was best by telling him. Colonel O'Neill was retired, only called in as a "consultant," as it were, when the aliens came through the Stargate. Surely he couldn't be brought up on charges after all this time?

"Captain," Hammond spoke softly, "I know what a difficult decision it must have been to give me this information, but you did the right thing." Sam was sure he'd heard the exhale of her breath. "I suspected there was something he wasn't telling me, and now that I do know, I have a bit of leverage. If I can get him to confess he'd falsified his report, I might be able to stop the bomb from going through as planned."

"Why does he have to confess? I told you what happened!"

"While I don't doubt the validity of your claim, it *is* still hearsay, and third hand at that. As I said, with this advantage I should be able to entertain some other options."

"Sir, with all due respect, I think you could use me there. Along with Catherine, Gary and Barbara." Sam knew she was pushing it, but she wasn't about to get side-lined again. Even if the President decided it was in Earth's best interest to bury the 'gate, perhaps she'd have a few days with it to experiment.

"I agree we could use your input on this, Captain, but I'm afraid the civilians are out of the question at this point."

"Sir, I. . ."

"This is still a military operation, and the threat to Earth is real. This isn't the time to turn this facility into a laboratory. I'll allow you because of your status as an Air Force officer."

"Yes, Sir," she said quietly.

"And, Captain? None of this information is to be relayed to anyone outside this command. Is that understood?"

Sam knew what he meant--no telling Catherine about what was going on. How did she leave her out of the loop, after all she'd done for her? She wouldn't have been allowed near the Mountain if she hadn't bargained with Catherine's information.

She had an inkling of what O'Neill must have felt when he'd omitted certain facts from his report. He didn't want to lie, but it was in everyone's best interest if he did. Perhaps Catherine couldn't be a part of this opportunity, but did that mean she should give up her chance as well? Sam knew Catherine. As much as she'd want to be a part of things, she'd understand when Sam was the only one in a position to participate. She wouldn't deny her the chance.

"Yes, Sir," Sam finally answered.

"Excellent. How soon can you be here?"

*********

Sam arrived at NORAD with mixed feelings--excited and nervous at the same time. She was overcome by an incredible sense of deja vu, returning to the complex. Even though it'd been only a little over eighteen months, things seemed to have changed. Perhaps it was just her perspective. When she'd left, she hadn't known what the ring did, let alone know it would become known as the Stargate. Now, she was here to make sure she was going through it.

General Hammond phoned her at home as she was packing, to inform her he'd made a decision to go ahead with the reconnaissance mission O'Neill was fighting for, and she'd be included on the team.

Sam's hands had been shaking so hard, she was amazed she'd managed to hang onto the phone. Or able to keep her voice so even. Although, once she'd hung up, she was sure her shriek had been heard for miles.

She'd caught a very early transport out of D.C., barely giving her enough time to make it to Colorado and the scheduled morning briefing at the Mountain. Exiting on level 11, Sam was surprised to find the same Airman stationed at the sign-in desk. Looking up, he recognized her.

"Captain Carter! Good to see you again, Ma'am!"

"It's good to be back," she smiled, reveling in the fact she'd returned and actually signing in.

"I heard you'd been transferred," the man said, automatically checking her signature against the pass list he had before him.

"I was," she said, picking up her briefcase.

"Well, pardon me for asking, Ma'am, but what are you doing back here?" leaning forward he whispered. "Rumor has it whatever is going on down there is being packed up."

Sam noted the man's name tag. "You should know better than to listen to rumors, Sergeant Jefferies."

The young man look flustered, as if he'd let some state secret go. "It's not like I *know* anything, Ma'am, but you know how you hear stuff. . . ."

"Then it's best not to pass it on, don't you agree?"

"Yes, Ma'am! Have a good day, Ma'am!" he said, saluting her.

"I'm sure I will. Thank you." Sam stepped into the car, taking a deep breath as the doors closed. Almost reverently she pressed the button for level 28, hoping the nervous feeling in her stomach was a result of the elevator's swift descent. When the doors opened, Sam was surprised to see the corridor deserted, except for a lone guard. He approached her as her gaze traveled around the gray cement walls.

"Well, they certainly haven't cozied up the place," she mumbled aloud.

"Ma'am?" the guard asked.

"Nothing, Airman," she said turning to head to the ringroom. *'Gate room* she corrected herself.

"Ma'am? The briefing room is that way," the guard said, pointing in the opposite direction.

"Yes, I know. I was just hoping I'd have a chance to see the. . ."

"General Hammond is waiting for you, Ma'am."

Sam checked her watch. He probably was. The drive over to NORAD had taken longer than she'd anticipated. It was just that she wanted to see the Stargate, assure herself it was still there. Climbing the stairs, Sam's heels clicked on the cold concrete as she headed for the briefing room.

Outside the door, she notice the meeting had already begun. Smoothing down her uniform, she wished it were as easy to brush away her nerves. So much was riding on this meeting. General Hammond guaranteed her she was on the team, but he'd yet to inform O'Neill of that fact. She wasn't going to be left behind. Not this time. And Colonel Jack O'Neill better accept that.

Voices were coming from the semi-dark briefing room. ". . .where's he transferring from?"

Sam stepped through the open door. "*She* is transferring from the Pentagon." Sam tried to appear unruffled by the men's eyes now trained on her. There was the usual posturing taking place; wisecracks and snickers to bolster their egos, but she'd been expecting it. The occupants of the room didn't disappoint her, especially the two officers from the original Abydos mission. She'd handled worse, she decided, and shot their attitude right back at them. Taking her seat, Sam knew she'd come on a little strong, especially offering to arm-wrestle O'Neill for her spot on the team, but she wasn't about to be intimidated. Fortunately, General Hammond managed to get the meeting back on track before she made any more feminist soap-box statements.

Sam had to admit she was a little disappointed by O'Neill's opinion of scientists, especially when one had been instrumental in saving his butt on Abydos. Catherine had told her when he'd originally come on the project he hadn't had time for her scientific staff, and apparently his attitude hadn't changed.

Colonel Samuels interrupted O'Neill's diatribe only to become of victim of the man's sarcasm himself. For a moment Sam felt sorry for the colonel being on the receiving end of O'Neill's caustic remarks, but the moment he advocated burial of the Stargate, Sam's sympathy ended. She was about to comment when O'Neill beat her to the punch, telling Samuels in no uncertain terms destruction of the 'gate wasn't the answer.

"They know what we are now. We're a threat to *them.* They've got ships, General. Ra had one as big as the Great Pyramids. They don't need the Stargate to get here. They can do it the 'old fashioned' way."

Sam's gaze turned to O'Neill, watching as he pleaded for a mission to reconnoiter Abydos before moving onto more drastic measures. Listening to the colonel's impassioned speech, Sam found herself taking a liking to him. At first she wasn't sure what her reaction to him was going to be, but the man before her now wasn't the same person she'd encountered nineteen months ago. Granted, he still had an edge to him, but he seemed as anxious as she was to see what lay beyond the Stargate. That went a long way in garnering her respect.

She'd been so absorbed in her observation of O'Neill, Sam nearly missed the general calling an end to the meeting.

". . .and no Kleenex boxes this time, please." he said as he stood.

Sam was puzzled by the exchange, apparently it was meant for O'Neill, as it caused the man to grin. Looking up, he caught Sam staring at him. Offering her an almost imperceptible nod, Sam relaxed and genuinely smiled for the first time since she'd entered the room. Engaging his eyes, she realized what the gesture meant. Apparently, he'd accepted her on the team.

***

The mission hadn't even started before Sam ran into her first obstacle--one locker room for both sexes. Not that taking turns was such a big a deal, but the guys got there first and took their own sweet time, leaving her with mere minutes to get changed and geared up. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was their "innocent" way of hazing her. Okay, so maybe she deserved it for her performance in the meeting, but she wouldn't let it get her down. She knew it was going to take some time to earn their respect, like any new member of a team.

"Nice of you to join us, Captain," O'Neill smirked as she entered the 'gate room. Sam barely heard him as she stared at the Stargate. They'd installed a more permanent looking power source to the rim of the 'gate, causing the inner ring to move faster than when she'd been conducting trial runs.

Torn between wanting to be in the control room and where she was on the floor of the embarkation room, Sam waited for the Stargate to begin its sequence. She wanted a look at the computers, wondering if they'd upgraded the system or hadn't bothered since the project had been scrapped.

A technician Sam hadn't seen before was calling out the chevrons as they engaged, then locked. With each successful lock, she felt her anticipation rising. The sixth chevron was in place, and Sam held her breath, waiting to see first hand what the seventh would produce. She'd waited over three years for this day. From the moment she'd learned of Project Giza she'd been working toward this goal; to see what the Stargate actually did.

"Chevron seven, locked!"

A great "whoosh" of matter spewed forth from the Stargate, causing Sam to jump back in surprise. Never had she imagined it could be so beautiful, so glorious.

Standing at the base of the ramp, Sam watched with fascination as the wormhole collapsed back on itself. Gaze fixed on the event horizon, it took a nudge from O'Neill to get her moving up the slope of the grating. Taking in a lung full of air, she realized the moment was at hand--the adventure of a lifetime was about to begin.

The End

Back to NODA'S Stargate Fan Fiction

Back to NODA'S Fan Fiction Main Index

Noda