Year 2, Episode 4: Secrets, Pt 1

Spoiler: “Secrets” AT. Only Earth Part. Meet: Jack's father!
Disclaimer: I don’t own the lines spoken in the original. I'm don't own the Stargate franchise.
I own Jamila and Jack's dad. That's all.

SG-1 sat together with the General around the table, staring at a video feed from a MALP they had sent to Abydos. From the screen, Daniel’s father-in-law Kasuf stared at them. “Now that was just a few minutes ago. Obviously, Kasuf has unburied the Stargate, and is waiting. For me,” Daniel concluded as he shut down the vid and sat down.

“One Abydos year to the day. They kept their word.” Sam nodded.

“And I have to keep mine.” He sat down.

“Daniel, you said you’d go back there in a year, with Sha’re.” Jack’s face was sceptical.

“I know that. But at least I can tell her father that I haven’t given up. That I won’t give up.”

“That she’s a Goa’uld?” Jack added.

The younger man’s face was set in hard, determined lines which rivalled the fighting spirit of the two mess officers’ present. “Yes.”

“Does he really need to know that?” Jamila sighed.

“Kasuf is family.” Daniel paused. “I owe it to him,” he answered carefully.

“I have nothing against you returning to Abydos, Doctor Jackson,” Hammond cut in cautiously, “but Colonel O’Neill, Captain Bartholomew and Captain Carter are due in Washington. And I can hardly ask the President of the United States and the Joint Chiefs of Staff to change their schedules.”

“Well, if I don’t go back now, they will bury the gate for good. It’s what I told them to do if I never came back.” Daniel took a deep breath in and continued. “General, I lived among these people for years, and I couldn’t possibly be safer than in the company of Teal’c.”

“Thank you, Daniel Jackson.” A faint hint of a smile was on the Jaffa’s face, showing his delight at the stated trust.

“You’re welcome.”

“Daniel Jackson assures me that the Abydonians are a peaceful people.”

“They’re a great people. Are you kidding?” Jack turned to Sam, grinning. “In fact, why don’t we blow off this medal ceremony thing and go with the boys?”

Sam smiled. ‘This never gets old…’ she thought.

“No chance Jack. There is no way in hell I let you get away to have fun while I suffer the paper tigers at the Pentagon to present myself and the Stargazer Project,” Jamila smirked.

Grinning slightly, Hammond decided to wrap up the meeting. “You may leave when ready.”

A few minutes later, Daniel was dressed into his Abydonian robe (with his BDU under it), with Teal’c following him in full gear. The team assembled in the Gate room, the ‘big O’ already active. Summarizing things in his usual to-the-point manner, Jack prompted, “So, we’ll come pick you up in a couple of days, huh?”

Daniel nodded. “And say hi to the President for me.”

Snipping his fingers, Jack quipped, “Will do.”

And they were gone. “So, we now have some stuff to do, people to meet, and punch to drink, don’t we?” Jamila grinned.

Sam shook her head, grinning at the antics. “Yes ma’am.”

Washington, District of Columbia, USA, Earth
Plaza in front of USAF Administration Buildings 35 & 36
Plaza Staircase
September 19, 1998
just before 1400 Zulu

“You know… I can navigate my way across a galaxy, but I get lost every time I come to Washington.” Jack, Sam and Jamila were making their way towards the reception they had to attend, going down the stairs towards USAF Administration Building 36; all of them clad in Class A Dress blues respective No 1 Dress blues.

“Don’t worry, sir, these are my old stomping grounds,” Sam grinned. Unlike the two mess officers, she wore a garrison cap, skirt, and standard issue heels with her uniform, which was a bit of a contrast to Jamila’s preferred version of No 1 Blues, wearing trousers, mess dress shoes and a combination cap. It blended the older woman in with the masses of male officers, while Sam stood out.

“Sorry to hear that,” Jack quipped.

“Keep me out of that. I was born in my capital,” Jamila stated, putting her shades back on. Her uniform was the very same she had worn as she had waltzed into the SGC, being the epitome of confidence. She carried a metal briefcase, filled with data of the Stargazer.

“Two years at the Pentagon trying to make the Stargate program a reality. I’d say it was time well spent, considering.”

“Ya think?”

Washington, District of Columbia, USA, Earth
USAF Administration Building 36
Reception Hall
September 19, 1998
ca 1400 Zulu

The trio headed to the cloakroom where a young Senior Airman took care of the objects, getting rid of the briefcase and their headgear.

“And don’t you dare to loose that cap airman,” Jamila warned.

“No ma’am.”

“What’s so special about it? Apart from being a bit older apparently. And a man’s cap,” Jack wondered, taking off his shades.

The sniper’s face was serious. “The last First Sea Lord and Chief of Naval Staff was my mentor. The cap was his Captain’s cap. He gave it to me as I was promoted to full Captain.”

“Ah.” Jack managed to contain his surprise and added, “Makes kind of sense.” He pointed to his own. “That one’s my father’s.”

“Nice.”

“Wow.” Sam was stunned, and then remembered something she wanted to ask earlier, on the plaza. “You were born in London, ma’am?”

“Yes. Charing Cross Hospital actually…”

“Oh. Is it really alright to leave the briefcase here ma’am?” Sam was slightly worried as they went to the staircase leading to the actual reception hall.

Grinning maliciously, Jamila replied, “The lock reads a person’s EM-field and EEG. If someone else tries to open it by any means… boom. The case explodes and burns the files inside to ashes.”

“Nice,” Jack quipped. “Can we have some of these too?”

“Already in the making. They’re actually quite simple.” They started the descent. The staircase was built in a way that it connected the gallery upstairs with the hall below from two sides at the same time, the two sides meeting halfway on a platform stair, from which one had a good view of the room. The group came to a halt on the platform.

Sam scanned the crowd. “I see General Hammond’s already doing the rounds.”

Jack grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s a player.” He snapped his fingers repeatedly. “He knows how to work a room. Punch?” he asked the women.

“Yes, sir. Thanks.”

“Get me a glass of champagne, Jack. I remember punch. I’ll be back; my hair is a bit in disarray.”

“Sure.” And so they split up.

The SGC CO was talking to another officer with an equally balding head, a bit taller than himself, with the back to the staircase, he himself facing the stairs. Noticing his subordinate, George beckoned Carter to come closer. At the gesture, his conversation partner turned around, revealing himself to be another two-star USAF general. Sam recognized him immediately, a bit shocked. “Dad.” Getting over the shock, Sam went over and hugged the older man.

At the end of it, she turned to her CO, question on face. “I invited Jake myself, captain. I thought you might enjoy the surprise,” the General explained.

“Really sir, that’s sweet.” She smiled gratefully and let go of her father completely.

Feeling the need to explain himself again, Jake added, “George and I served together back when the Air Force really was this country’s first line of defence.”

As if Sam didn’t know that! Hammond was her Godfather after all. On top of that was the issue with the SGC. “It still is,” she prompted.

Jacob declined, trying to dismiss the tension. “Of course it is. I was talking about when the cold war was still on. Anyway, when George told me you were up for the Air Medal for your work in…” He stopped, the subject having slipped his mind, and turned to Hammond. “What the hell was that again?”

Slightly uncomfortable, Sam filled the silence as the SGC CO didn’t answer. “Analysis of deep space radar telemetry.”

“Right…” Jacob retorted, disbelief evident by his fake smile.

As if on cue, Jamila approached them carefully. At the same time, Jack arrived, juggling a champagne flute and two glasses of punch. “Sam, Jamila…” Jack handed the ladies their drinks.

“Thank you sir.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

Hammond played host and introduced them. “Colonel Jack O’Neill, Captain Jamila Bartholomew; Jacob Carter.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Carter? As in…”

“As in my father sir, yes.” Sam replied, smiling at the antics again.

“Get outta town! Sam’s dad?” Jack grinned. “I’ve heard nothing about you, sir,” he shook the older man’s hand.

“What’s there to say about an old General waiting to retire?” Jake answered ironically.

“Dad, I talk about you all the time,” Sam interjected, trying to defend herself.

Well, that was common ground for Jack. “I retired myself one time. Couldn’t stay away.”

The younger man reminded Jacob of someone, but he couldn’t put his finger to it. And he certainly didn’t look like a military science geek. More like someone who once wandered the darkest parts of military work and lived to tell the tale, considering his ribbon rack. “From your analysis of deep space radar telemetry, you mean.”

‘Damn,’ Jack thought. ‘That cover story really is kind of phoney, considering the people working at the SGC… Quick Jack, ah…’ “Well, it’s just so damn fascinating,” he deadpanned, taking a sip of his punch.

“Well, it should be for a pair of astronomers, shouldn’t it, Jack?” Jamila cut in.

‘Thanks Jamila,’ he thought. “Oh yeah,” he grinned, reminiscing about his pure awe at the Stargazer’s holographic maps.

“And you are…?” Jake asked, slightly irritated.

Jamila shook her head in mock defeat. “You asked for it. Captain Jamila Sarah Miranda Elizabeth Mary Lady Bartholomew, DSc, sir.”

“You’re a bit old for being merely a Captain, Captain,” Jake remarked as he shook the offered hand, trying not to wince at the casual strength of her grip. “You two are astronomers?” he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Not with four stripes and OF-5, sir. I am with the Royal Navy.” She pressed her fingertips together, revealing her rank insignia on her uniform cuffs.

Jacob was taken aback. The cuffs with the function pins and circle-topped rank insignia spoke volumes of her experience, rank and heritage. “I must apologize. Skipper.” His eyes trailed up to her ribbon rack with the other function badges and widened slightly. ‘Oh my god… that’s the Victoria Cross. Distinguished Service Cross and what not. What’s that? ah, the South Atlantic medal if I’m not mistaken. Kuwait Liberation Medal. NATO Medal. Sniper’s Badge and a Captain’s badge (note 1)…’ he checked his somewhat rusty memory of British awards and badges. The ribbon rack was shorter than O’Neill’s, but just as impressive, considering that the UK had far less medals than the USA, and very similar to the one of her CO in accomplishments and overseas tours. ‘Just what kind of monsters is my little girl working with? An Ex-Black ops officer and a British Ex-Red Ops Sniper who happen to be astronomers… just what the hell are they doing in that mountain… anyway, if everything works out, she won’t be seeing them any longer. Especially that O’Neill-nut. I don’t like how he looks at her. And how my little girl looks at him.’

“Forgiven and forgotten, sir. Just take a closer look next time. And yes, both the Colonel’s and my academic credentials are in the field of astronomy. It is one of the fields I managed to prove myself intellectually worthy of a Doctorate, a Doctor of Sciences to be precise…” she trailed off. “Oh sorry, I’m rambling. I really should not blow my own trumpet…”

“You’re an astronomer Colonel?” Sam asked, a little surprised. Sure, she had read Jack’s file, but not so thoroughly to know his academic grades. Before today, she always thought that astronomy was merely an advanced interest of his, and his work with the Stargazer had mainly to do with his excellent skill in mapping and understanding the language of the computer. Then again, back then when she had read his file, she hadn’t been someone whose career background had been scrubbed, like these two had.

“Well, I don’t like to blow my own trumpet as my colleague here says, but I happen to hold the same academic degree as she does. On top of aerospace engineering.” Jack shrugged. It wasn’t important to him usually, but he didn’t like it if one of his peers and colleagues like General Carter actually believed his act that this old pragmatist was actually a no-brainer, and not the cunning fox his father had once called him.

“Oh…” Sam sipped her punch to circumvent an awkward answer. He was indeed a master at playing dumb, no; make that playing simply-single-minded. And god, that man was also an eye-candy… ‘Quiet, brain!’ The Skipper was equal in keeping things to herself.

“And now you work in… analysis of Deep Space Radar telemetry,” Jake’s scepticism, rooting in more than 30 years of Air Force service (especially AF intelligence) was still obvious.

“Actually, I came to NORAD with a special joint project, and you could say the Colonel is my partner in crime by now.” Jamila took a mouthful of the sparkling beverage. “Nothing better than another astrometrist to work on Stargazer, if you have heard of it.”

“Really…”

“She has no reason to lie to you, sir.” Jack felt now a bit more secure with the now a bit more solid (now just Swiss cheese instead of paper-thin) cover story. “And as I said before, it’s just so damn fascinating,” he deadpanned again.

Trying to poke another hole into the statement, General Carter snide-commented, “Well, I’m sure it is. Otherwise you two wouldn’t be receiving the Air Medal.”

Jack grinned and got rid of his now empty glass cup as a waiter passed. “We have our moments.” Noticing a familiar presence, he gazed up the stairs. “Well anyway, it looks like you’re not the only one to have family today here, Carter. Look.”

A tall man with silver-white hair and dark brown eyes, wearing the uniform and three-star insignia of a Lieutenant General of the United States Air Force had appeared on the staircase midsection. He was lean and strong for his age, and moved with a grace many younger and older lacked. His ribbon racks (notice the plural!) marked him a veteran and hero of any war the USA had fought in the century but World War I and his function badges gave away his skill as a tactician and pilot. As he spotted them, he walked straight towards their little gathering, sporting a soft smile on his face. As he reached them, he immediately turned to Jack. “Jack!”

Said O’Neill stared in a bit of disbelieve at the other man before he returned the smile wholeheartedly. “Oh my God… Dad!” They hugged each other.

“What the…” General Carter’s expression was priceless.

The older O’Neill released his son and turned towards his audience. At the sight of Jacob, his smile and any sign of human warmth disappeared. “General Carter,” he acknowledged flatly.

“General O’Neill.” Who didn’t know Jacob would think he was unfazed by this, but the narrowed eyes showed his discomfort at the mere presence of the older man. ‘What the hell?’ he thought. ‘He’s the son of that man?!’ His problem was the fact that he was a solid admirer of the older O’Neill and his accomplishments, but the man was the king of holding grudges. For crossing him more than a decade ago, Jake still was on the black list of Jonathan sr.

So acknowledgement was all Sam’s father got, and Jack’s father turned to Jamila, who in turn straightened her stance. “Sir.”

“Jamila!” He greeted her cordially, bowed down, brought her hand to his lips and gave a formal kiss to the back of her hand. (note 2)

“Jonathan.” She gave him a warm smile and hugged him. “It has been far too long, old friend.”

“It has indeed Milady. Three years?” The General let go of her.

‘What the hell…’ Jake noticed now in his stupor that Captain Bartholomew was actually the tallest person present at the party at all, towering even the two O’Neills. And she knew both of them personally.

“Four sir. The First Sea Lord’s house party for the NATO Project Commanders.”

“Ah, yes. Oh my god, where are my manners? George.” He shook hands with Hammond.

“General Jonathan O’Neill. What brings you to DC, sir?” the bald officer asked, his countenance surprised but pleased.

Jonathan grinned. “Coincidence. I was actually here for a report to the NATO HQ as I heard from James that you have gained yourself another medal Jack! So I thought dropping in and giving you a ‘Congratulations’ would be nice before I have to catch my flight back tonight. And by the way, where are your manners, my son?”

Jack grinned awkwardly. “Oh yes. Captain Carter, meet my father, Lieutenant General Jonathan James Patrick O’Neill, NATO Air Force Base Geilenkirchen, Germany. Dad, meet my Second-In-Command, Captain Samantha Carter, PhD.”

Automatically, Sam tried to stand at attention, considering that the other O’Neill outranked her by nearly everything which was there to outrank. “At ease Captain,” Jonathan ordered kindly. “This is a party. You can stand at attention all the time later on.”

Sam blushed faintly, being unaccustomed to such courtesy, but relaxed. “Sir.” She offered the General her hand and got herself a surprise as the man didn’t shake it, but bent down again, suggesting a hand-kiss.

Jonathan’s reward for his old-fashioned gallantry was a shy smile and a nice blush as he stood straight again. He smiled. “A lady, officer or not, should be treated with proper admiration and respect, or what do you think George?”

“Certainly sir,” Hammond grinned. Jake was speechless.

“Th-thank you sir.”

“You are very welcome Captain,” Jonathan smiled gently.

Jack however was not sure if he should be embarrassed, annoyed or proud of his father, who he nevertheless loved from the very bottom of his heart (not that he would ever admit that!). On top of that, there was the problem with the more-than-meagre cover story for the SGC, with its members being part of NORAD. Sam, Jamila and himself could be excused with their academic grades, but Ferretti for example held his degree in military history, just like that Jarhead Makepeace. And the worst case of course was Daniel, being an archaeologist with the reputation of a mad outcast with weird theories. Not to mention all the other not-star-or-tech-related non-military geeks at the command, and the plain military people, including top-class SFs for a facility whose official usefulness was slowly running thin or changing. It was uncomfortable, and on top of that was his deep-rooted dislike for DC, or rather, the way DC people behaved. It reminded him way too much of Kinsey and his goons. He shot Jamila a glance, who nodded, then turned to Sam’s dad. “Um, will excuse me? We just don’t get out of Cheyenne Mountain enough. We’re gonna grab some air. Outside. General, Captain, General…”

“Wait Jack. I’ll come with you.” Jonathan’s words were soft, but spoken with the finality of someone used to a lot of power. “George, Captain Carter, Carter…”

“I’ll see you later Carter,” Jamila added, turning to follow the ‘fleeing’ O’Neills. “Excuse me gentlemen.”

“Yes ma’am.” She grinned.

Hammond shook his head at his 2IC’s antics. “I guess I’ll go make the rounds,” he stated, leaving the Carters alone.

Notes

1 I do not actually know the exact name for this one, but a naval officer who went through Senior officer’s training and Captain’s school is allowed/required to wear a special badge, designating the officer as capable of command of a naval unit, be it a Special Forces team, a ship of any size or a whole carrier group. The Captain’s school training regimen is far more demanding than the usual Senior officer’s training due to the special problems arising with commanding a ship, which is essentially a swimming mobile military base.

2 That’s the way it should be done to stick to proper protocol and manner, the one kissing the hand bowing down, not pulling it up to your face to do it. It is a gesture of respect, admiration and sometimes affection.

AN: I heard it is a bit difficult to read my monstrous chapters, so I decided to split this in three parts. Tell me what you think. Reviews are food, I need them!
I'm working on the next part already. Cya! Leave reviews!