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No matter how many times SG-1 was forced to retreat to the Stargate under fire, Sam would never fail to appreciate the sharp burning sensation as her palms scraped across the surface of the ramp following her headlong tumble through the wormhole. It meant that she was alive, that she had survived to fight another day against the Goa'uld. In a war where more often than not their wins were the direct or indirect consequences of dumb luck, she would take as much as she could get.
The 'gate deactivated with a whoosh, and Sam turned around, expecting to see the remaining three members of her team.
Instead, she saw only Daniel and Teal'c.
General Hammond's drawling baritone heralded his arrival in the 'gate room, by coincidence speaking in unison with the first coherent thought she could form. "Where is Colonel O'Neill?"
Teal'c frowned in puzzlement, looking back at the now silent 'gate. "I do not know, General Hammond. He was directly behind me."
— — — — — — — —
"What was your situation?" Hammond inquired of the team as they all made their way up to the control room.
"We were being pursued by gliders and an Alkesh," Sam said.
"Tanith's Alkesh." Teal'c scowled as he adjusted the makeshift bandage affixed to his forehead. "I intended to exact revenge upon him, but O'Neill ordered me to preceed him through the Stargate."
"It's a good thing he did," Hammond remarked. "He may have saved your life."
"Colonel O'Neill could still be alive, General Hammond," Teal'c insisted. "He was immediately behind me."
"Dial P3X-116," Hammond said to Major Davis. "We'll try to raise him on his radio."
As Davis began dialing the 'gate, Sam turned to address Hammond. "Sir, we should have a MALP standing by in case we need a visual."
"Do it," Hammond ordered Davis.
"Yes, sir. Chevron two… sir, we're getting an unknown error. Should I override?"
Hammond turned back to face Sam. "Major?"
Sam frowned as she leaned forward to look at the screen. "Gate feedback protocol means the system is detecting something wrong with the Stargate itself, not our dialing computer."
"Like what?" said Daniel.
"I don't know," Sam admitted. As a scientist, she understood intellectually that statement was not only nothing to be ashamed of, but essentially, vitally important to scientific discovery and progress. However, that knowledge did absolutely nothing to stop her from feeling like a pathetic failure of a human being every time she was forced to say it. "It's something our computer isn't recognizing."
She straightened and turned to address Teal'c. "Teal'c, what happened just before you jumped through?"
"Tanith's Alkesh was headed directly for us."
"Could it have impacted the Stargate on the other side?"
"Possibly." Teal'c furrowed his brow. "You believe Colonel O'Neill was prevented from entering the wormhole and is now trapped on the other side, as he was on Edora?"
Sam very carefully did not react to his mention of Edora. "Well, if he was right next to you like you said… I hate to say this, but if the wormhole was shut down while the colonel was en route…"
"Chevron six encoded," Davis interjected. "Still showing an unknown error, sir."
"Sir, we'd better abort," Sam insisted.
"Abort the dialing procedure," Hammond told Davis.
"Dialing sequence aborted."
The 'gate slowly spun to a halt, and everyone turned to look at Sam, their expectant gazes skewering her to the spot as they waited for her to explain what just happened.
Of course, she didn't know, not yet. Not with absolute certainty, anyway.
But she would. She always did.
She had to.
— — — — — — — —
Her hunch had turned out to be correct. Colonel O'Neill had become trapped in the memory buffer of their Stargate when the power to the outgoing 'gate had been cut off, most likely by the collision of the Alkesh with the DHD. Not only did Sam have no idea how to finish converting the colonel's energy signature back into matter, that energy signature would be erased— permanently— if anyone else attempted to use the 'gate. So Daniel and Hammond were busy negotiating with the Russian government for use of their 'gate to retrieve their other offworld teams, while Sam set herself to the daunting task of retrieving Colonel O'Neill from the memory buffer.
Lost in deep concentration, she didn't even notice Teal'c had entered the control room until he was standing right next to her. "Major Carter."
"Teal'c!" She looked up, startled. "You okay?"
"I am well enough at the moment. My symbiote will repair my injuries." Teal'c pulled up an adjacent chair and lowered himself into it. "Have you discovered how to retrieve Colonel O'Neill from the Stargate?"
Sam sighed and shook her head. "Well, the thing is… since we don't have a DHD, the interface between our computer and the 'gate is basically a series of electrical impulses to which the 'gate crystals respond like they normally would if we had a DHD. It took a lot of trial and error over a great deal of time to find the right sets of impulses to generate the right commands. What we need to do now is find a series of impulses which would instruct the 'gate to override one of its primary functions and resume a reintegration process which was cut off prematurely… but the more I go through this, the more I'm starting to doubt that it's even possible."
Teal'c listened impassively as Sam rambled, seeming to understand that this was part of her process— thinking out loud, restating the problem in slightly different ways until she stumbled upon the right train of thought that would lead her to the answer she sought. It was one of the things she appreciated most about their friendship, that he never seemed to expect more from her than she was able to give at any given moment. I really need to tell him that, one of these days.
"Is there anything I can do to assist you, Major Carter?"
Sam chuckled as she felt her face split into a wide smile despite her dour mood. "You're assisting me already, Teal'c. Thank you."
He inclined his head, bowing slightly. "I have every confidence in you, Major. If it is possible to retrieve Colonel O'Neill, you will find a way."
"I hope so." She turned back to her computer screen with a weary sigh. "I can't decide if this is better or worse than him being stranded on the other side. He shouldn't be aware of the passage of time while he's trapped in the buffer, but I have no idea how long he can remain in this state before his pattern starts to degrade. The 'gates were never designed for this kind of long-term storage."
A deep scowl marred Teal'c's features. "Perhaps I erred in obeying his order to proceed through the Stargate. Had I remained long enough to exact my revenge upon Tanith, it would be I who would now be in his place."
Sam arched her eyebrows at him. "You know that wouldn't be any better than the current situation, right?"
Teal'c acknowledged the rhetorical question with a slight nod. "Perhaps Tanith was killed when his Alkesh impacted the DHD," he said, making no apparent effort to hide the avid eagerness in his voice.
"We can only hope," Sam replied wryly.
— — — — — — — —
Sam wasn't sure how much time passed before she was interrupted again, this time by a summons from Colonel Simmons. She entered the briefing room to find the colonel and a civilian man she didn't know.
"Ah, Major Carter, good of you to join us." Simmons gestured to the civilian. "This is Dr. Rodney McKay from Area 51. I thought he might be useful to your efforts in retrieving Colonel O'Neill."
Before Sam could figure out how to (politely) respond to this completely unnecessary and unwelcome distraction from said efforts, General Hammond entered the room, looking surprised and none too pleased to see Simmons there. "Colonel Simmons?"
Simmons smiled in a way which was likely intended to appear winsome. "Hello, General. I was just introducing Doctor McKay and Major Carter. The doctor has been studying the Stargate program out of Area 51 for over a year now."
Sam turned to look at McKay again, taken aback. "Without access to a working 'gate?"
"I had a virtual computer model that was built when the second 'gate was there." McKay seemed inordinately pleased with himself regarding this fact.
"Well, I'm sure it's a thrill to be here to see the real thing," said Hammond.
McKay scoffed. "Not really."
The vaguely polite expression on Hammond's face abruptly vanished. What an ass, Sam thought.
"The Pentagon feels Doctor McKay has become the foremost expert on the Stargate," Simmons went on.
"Next to Major Carter," Hammond added, inclining his head towards her. Sam suppressed a small flash of pride as she tried not to smile.
"With all due respect, Major," McKay broke in dismissively, "you spend most of your time in the field."
"Major Carter spent two years working on the gate prior to her five years at the SGC," snapped Hammond before Sam could muster a response. "She's the one that made this program viable."
"Actually, the interface she designed is full of flaws."
Indignant rage burned hot in Sam's chest. Who does he think he is? "Well, I-I admit it's not perfect, but it's certainly—"
"It has caused numerous unnecessary situations, any of which could have ended in catastrophe."
"And we certainly don't want that to happen," Simmons interjected. "That's why the doctor's here to help."
"Good. He can report to Major Carter," Hammond said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Sam regarded McKay with what she hoped was obvious distaste. He only smiled smugly back at her. She fought the impulse to punch him in the face.
"And the two of them might be able to work together to solve this problem. To get Colonel O’Neill back in one piece— in the time allotted."
"Excuse me?" Sam swiveled to face Simmons. "'In the time allotted'?"
"Forty-eight hours."
Sam gaped at him in astonishment. He can't be serious. Forty-eight hours?? She turned back to face Hammond. "Sir?"
Hammond made no visible effort to contain his fury. "Come with me, Colonel." He escorted Simmons out of the room, leaving Sam alone with McKay.
"Listen, Major, I don't mean to step on your toes," McKay said in a tone that conveyed the precise opposite. "I really think this will go a lot quicker with me on the job. Higher probability of success, too."
"Oh, really." Sam couldn't keep the drip of sarcasm out of her voice. "Did your computer model tell you that?"
"No, just common sense. You're too close to this problem."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Sam snapped, fighting down a sudden rush of rising panic. He can't possibly know about—
"You're clearly blind to the flaws inherent in your MacGuyvered 'gate interface, which naturally makes you incapable of properly addressing any problems that arise as a result of those flaws. My outside perspective should be more than enough to compensate for that handicap."
"Handicap," Sam scoffed. Inside, her momentary relief was almost immediately replaced by renewed anger. Of course he's not thinking of Colonel O'Neill at all. Not enough room for anything in there besides his ego.
"Maybe we could discuss this over lunch?" McKay offered. "Provided your commissary has allergy-friendly options, of course. I'm mortally allergic to citrus, you see, and if I were to go into anaphylactic shock you'd be even less likely to figure this out without my help."
"How kind of you to offer your assistance," Sam replied through gritted teeth. "I'll be sure to let you know if it's required."
She spun on her heels and marched away, her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides in a vain attempt to stop them from trembling with uncontrollable rage.
— — — — — — — —
"Sorry I don't have better news," Daniel said.
Sam sighed. "Yeah, me too. Thanks, Daniel."
She hung up the phone and glared at McKay, who was for some reason still in her lab. "Don't even think about it, McKay."
"What?" McKay's eyes widened innocently. "You mean saying I told you s—"
"Get out!"
Taken aback by her sudden outburst, he scrambled backwards for a few steps, almost losing his footing entirely before managing to right himself and scurry away.
Sam buried her face in her hands, allowing herself a small scream of frustration. Talking to McKay was like enduring her dissertation defense all over again. Are you sure you've considered every possible interpretation of the data? Why didn't you use the decades-old technique I developed instead of the newest models? How did you even get into this program in the first place?
Insisting that she'd earned the right to be here felt somehow hollow, despite all she'd accomplished. After all, it wasn't like she'd been able to prevent the current situation from happening. If they had a DHD, Colonel O'Neill wouldn't even need her to save him.
If they had a DHD, the Stargate program wouldn't even need her at all.
The phone rang again. "Carter."
"Major, come to my office right away." It was General Hammond.
"I'll be right there, sir."
— — — — — — — —
Sam sat across from Hammond, trying to process what he'd just told her. "Simmons said what?"
"I couldn't believe it either," Hammond was visibly seething. "He'll tell us how to save Colonel O’Neill— in exchange for a Goa'uld hand device."
"Well, we're not gonna give it to him," Sam insisted. "Right? Sir, we can't—"
"Don't worry, Major. I don't have any intention of cooperating with that— man. Rather, I intend to take advantage of the opportunity he's given us."
Sam blinked, confused. "Sir?"
"Major, what use would Simmons have for a Goa'uld hand device?"
"Well, none. He wouldn't even be able to use it at all without—" Sam cut herself off abruptly as realization dawned. "He has Conrad."
Hammond nodded. "Who, presumably, has the information we need to save the colonel. Which brings me to the mission I have for you, Major."
"Mission?"
"I want you to find him and get him to tell you what he knows. I'd suggest contacting Maybourne if you can— he might know or suspect where to find him. Normally I'd ask Colonel O'Neill to do that, but…" he trailed off; there was obviously no need to finish that sentence. "I'm hopeful given the rapport you two established during the foothold situation that you can work together on this."
"Sir... does this mean you don't want me to keep working with Dr. McKay?"
"Unless you're close to a breakthrough…" Hammond looked at her expectantly.
Sam gritted her teeth. "No, sir, I— we haven't been able to make any headway."
Hammond's gaze softened. "I don't doubt your skills, Major. But we're under a bit of a time constraint here. A wholly unnecessary time constraint, but one we still can't work around. If the answers we need are already out there, for Colonel O'Neill's sake I'm obligated to find them as quickly as possible."
Sam nodded, trying to keep the shame burning in her chest from showing on her face. "Of course, sir. I understand completely."
"Besides," Hammond added, "I doubt McKay will make much progress on his own. Simmons allegedly brought him in to help, but he waltzed into my office with that ultimatum like he'd planned it that way all along."
"He wanted to take advantage of the situation," Sam realized. "He knew we'd be desperate."
"Precisely." Hammond rose to his feet, and Sam followed suit. "You have your orders, Major. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir." Sam turned and left his office, doing her best to hold back angry tears. This is progress, she told herself. He's not saying you can't do it. He's just saying you can't do it in the time we have.
It was an important difference, but one that provided her with almost no comfort.
Sam was so distracted, she didn't even notice McKay until she turned the corner and almost collided with him. "Ah, Major, there you are. I've been going over your notes and I found a few more holes."
"What a surprise," Sam said dryly.
"The fact that you even have the audacity to suggest it might be possible to create an event horizon without a wormhole—"
"All we need to do is get the rematarialization process to work—" Sam emitted a frustrated huff. "Do you actually have something helpful to say, or are you just here to undermine me? Because I have actual work to do."
"Major, even if you managed to create a viable event horizon without connecting to a wormhole, you'd never get the gate to reintegrate Colonel O'Neill."
"And why not?"
"The crystals that retain the energy pattern before reintegration won't do so permanently," he explained in a tone dripping with condescension. "It's basic entropy. I've measured it; it's what's called quantitative evidence."
Sam gritted her teeth again and took a deep breath before replying. "I suspect the gate is storing its ones and zeros on a subatomic level within the structure of the crystals. So even though the energy is dissipating, the most recent pattern still exists."
"You suspect?"
"We're dealing with a level of quantum physics that is way beyond us—"
"You're guessing wildly, like you always do!" McKay exclaimed, and Sam dug her fingernails into her palms so hard she drew blood. Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry— "More than a third of the energy pattern required to reintegrate Colonel O'Neill— it's already gone. He's dead, and this argument is a waste of time, because the Pentagon is gonna order Hammond to resume operations this time tomorrow."
Sam stared at him in astonishment as the full meaning behind his words finally hit her. "That's where they came up with the forty-eight hour deadline, isn't it? You told them the colonel would already be dead!"
McKay smirked. "That's why it's called a deadline," he said pointedly.
Sam willed herself to hold her body still, to not let him see her shaking with barely controlled rage. That was what these types of guys always wanted, to get a rise out of her. Well, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "God, you're a joke," she huffed as she pushed past him towards the elevator.
"I wish I didn't find you so attractive," McKay called after her, and she came to an abrupt halt, thinking she couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. "I've always had a weakness for, uh, dumb blondes."
Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry— "Go suck a lemon."
She didn't turn around until she was inside the elevator and the doors were closed behind her. Only then did she allow the tears to finally fall.
— — — — — — — —
Maybourne, as it turned out, had already been in the area for several days. Sam didn't even have to seek him out; he contacted her as soon as she was far enough away from the base. She arrived at the address he gave for their meeting to find him already neck-deep in the NID database.
"Didn't they track you down the last time you did this?"
"I'm using a link that's bouncing off five different satellites," he replied without looking up. "Tracing this will make them dizzy for a month."
Sam peered over his shoulder. "You're looking at flight plans?"
"Any official NID action has to be filed by the Pentagon, same as any branch of the military. If Simmons used an NID plane to visit our snakehead, then the flight plan was registered."
"Wouldn't that be…" Sam struggled to find the right word. "…well, stupid?"
Maybourne smirked. "The situation with Jack provided Simmons with a unique opportunity, but the Pentagon's deadline didn't give him much time. Besides, the NID flight plans are classified information, and there aren't many people who would know the current locations of every NID safehouse in the country. You just happen to be lucky enough to know one of the people who does."
"Yeah, lucky me," Sam deadpanned.
He looked up at her. "For what it's worth, Major, I'm sorry."
"What do you mean?"
"I know you wouldn't be asking me for help if you had any other options."
Sam clenched her jaw. "No, I wouldn't. It wasn't the Pentagon's deadline, by the way."
"What?"
"Simmons brought in a… consultant… from Area 51. He thinks it's already too late to save Colonel O'Neill."
"But you don't."
Sam met Maybourne's gaze, and found herself taken by surprise at the unguarded compassion she saw there. "I could save him, if they just gave me more time," she insisted. God, you sound like a first-year cadet. You don't have to justify yourself to him—
"I know you could."
Sam blinked, positive she must have misheard him. She narrowed her eyes, searching his face for any hint that he was being insincere, but he had already turned his attention back to the search.
"Here it is." He pointed at the screen, and Sam followed his gaze.
"Diverted to Minot on its way to Colorado Springs…" she read aloud.
Maybourne looked up at her, a wry smirk crossing his face. "North Dakota ain't exactly on the way."
— — — — — — — —
Sam waited impatiently for Maybourne to give her the signal. They had only a few hours left now before their time was up and Hammond would be forced to resume normal 'gate operations— and Colonel O'Neill would be gone for good. If they didn't get what they needed from Conrad today…
That won't happen. She reprimanded herself sharply for even considering the possibility of failure. I won't let him down.
Her cell phone suddenly came to life. "Okay, Major, I'm in. Hit it." There was a brief pause. "You got two guys left guarding the Goa'uld."
Showtime. Sam entered the room, zatting both guards before they even became aware of her presence. She walked up to the cage holding Conrad, and the two of them looked at each other.
"We meet again," he said. "Now what?"
"Now…" Sam lifted her zat again and aimed it at him. "You're gonna tell me what I want to know."
He smirked. "Am I?"
Sam resisted the urge to just shoot him right then and there. "Let me in," she said to Maybourne.
Maybourne looked up from tying and gagging the two guards Sam had taken out. "Careful, Major…"
"Just do it," she snapped.
He took the cell keycard off one of the guards and slid it throught the lock without another word. Sam walked in, never taking her eyes or her zat off of Conrad.
"All right," she said. "Tell me what you told Simmons."
Conrad continued to smirk at her. "What in particular are you referring to?"
Her finger twitched on the trigger. "How do we save Colonel O'Neill?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because if you don't, I'll kill you," she hissed through gritted teeth.
His smirk grew even wider. "I doubt that."
She shot him.
He fell to the ground, but remained conscious, twitching as he lay at her feet. Sam took a few steps closer to him. "What makes you think I care if you live or die?"
"Wh-what about th-the host?" he managed between full-body shudders.
"The host?" Sam snorted, allowing her anger to grow until it drowned out the memory of the sheer terror she'd experienced at the hands of Conrad and his goons. "He tried to kill me to save his own ass. I don't much care about him, either."
Conrad finally managed to get to his feet, seemingly unintimidated by the zat Sam continued to aim at him. "If you kill me, Colonel O'Neill dies."
Sam glared at him silently, not trusting herself to be able to speak around the sudden lump in her throat.
More time.. I just need more time!
But she didn't have more time. All she had was Conrad.
"Give me another choice," she demanded.
"Let me go," he replied. "Once I am free, I will contact you with the information."
Sam choked back a derisive laugh. "I think Colonel O'Neill would rather I shoot you."
"Oh, go ahead." Conrad rolled his eyes. "You know, Colonel Simmons was much better at this than you. He, at least, offered me something of value in return for what I know."
The hand holding the zat shook slightly, and she mentally berated herself. Can't hold a zat straight, can't save the colonel, can't design a 'gate interface that works properly… what good am I? I can blow up a sun, but I can't solve this one simple problem? Hammond ought to bust me back down to—
"Major."
She jumped slightly at the sound of Maybourne's voice, which was much closer than she expected. He was now standing beside her, his own zat aimed and ready. "If the first shot didn't take him out, he'll probably survive the second. Just say the word." He nodded at Conrad. "Unlike the major here, I'm not a very good shot. And I tend to miss low. Just a friendly warning."
Conrad gulped, and Sam snorted, feeling a surge of renewed confidence. She'd been so caught up in the urgent need to save Colonel O'Neill before it was too late, she'd almost forgotten she didn't have to do it alone. "I think we can hold off on that for now… provided, of course, that you're willing to cooperate." She directed the last statement at Conrad, who was visibly trembling.
"If you damage this body, I'll just take one of you as a host," he threatened feebly, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
"I'd like to see you try," Sam said, moving her zat so that it was now aimed a few inches lower. She furrowed her brow as she followed his eye movements. Why does he keep looking at the ceiling?
Trying to appear casual, she let her gaze flick upwards, and willed herself not to react when she spotted the light glinting off the lens. Eureka.
She turned around and marched out of the cell without another word to Conrad. After a beat, Maybourne followed her. "I don't understand," he said.
"There's a camera in that cell." Sam led him to the surveillance room, where rows of tapes sat on a shelf on the far wall. "We're looking for two days ago."
Within minutes, they found the right tape. Within seconds of inserting it into the VCR and pressing play, they had what they were looking for.
“…you have to remove the master control crystal before you attach the DHD. Otherwise, the imprint will be erased—”
"Of course!" Sam slammed the pause button before smacking herself in the forehead. "I should've thought of that myself. How come I didn't see it?"
"This is just a shot in the dark here," drawled Maybourne, "but it might have something to do with the unreasonable time constraint and the constant naysaying of the lackey Simmons hired to slow you down."
Sam's mouth fell open as she looked at him, his naked sincerity rendering her temporarily speechless.
"I could kill them for you, by the way," he offered as she mentally fumbled for a reply. "I'm already a wanted fugitive. It'd be my pleasure."
She rolled her eyes and took the tape out of the VCR, turning away from Maybourne so he wouldn't see her smile. "I'm just gonna pretend you didn't say that."
Sam called the SGC while they made their escape. As luck would have it, she reached General Hammond with mere seconds to spare.
"Excellent work, Major," Hammond praised her. "Luckily, Dr. Jackson has already managed to convince the Russians to loan us their DHD. In return, we're going to help them set up a naquadah generator program. I thought you might have some suggestions as to who I should appoint to supervise it."
Sam exchanged a brief smirk with Maybourne. "Oh, I have the perfect candidate in mind, sir…"
— — — — — — — —
The look on McKay's face when he learned about his new assignment was absolutely priceless. Sam almost didn't regret not taking Maybourne up on his offer to kill him. Almost.
It took her just under twelve hours to remove the control crystal and connect the DHD to the 'gate while doing everything possible to minimize the chance that the 'gate would explode. Her efforts were ultimately successful, although she hoped the Russians wouldn't be too upset at the loss of their DHD.
Colonel O'Neill stumbled out of the event horizon, making it about halfway down the ramp before he seemed to realize something was wrong. He stared at the burned-out husk of the DHD. "Carter? What the hell's going on?"
Sam came up the ramp to meet him. "Sir, as far as you know, what just happened?"
O'Neill met her gaze, looking nonplussed. "Teal'c wanted to kill Tanith, but I made him go through the 'gate ahead of me." His eyes flicked back over to the DHD. "Is Siler okay?"
"He'll be fine. See, he's already shaking it off." She led him the rest of the way down the ramp. "Colonel, are you sure you're feeling perfectly normal?"
"I'm fine, Carter. Except for the part where I still don't know what the hell's going on."
She chuckled. "Well, sir, what's going on is… I just saved your life."
The colonel blinked. "Uh, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but… when?"
Sam briefly summarized the events of the past few days— in layman's terms, of course. When she finished, O'Neill was visibly impressed. "You just had to top blowing up a sun, didn't you?"
Her face flamed. "It was really nothing, sir. If Conrad didn't have the info we needed…"
"If he didn't have it, then Simmons wouldn't have had anything to blackmail Hammond with, and you would've had all the time in the world to figure it out on your own," the colonel pointed out. "Either way, the win is yours, Carter. You should be proud."
Sam felt a broad grin creep across her face before she could stop it. "You know what, you're right. Incidentally, you owe me a favor."
"I do?"
"I did save your life, after all."
"That is true… any chance you'd wanna cash in my offer to go fishing?"
"It still stands?"
"It always stands, Carter."