Chapter 3:
Making Connections

George Hammond stood quietly in his new office, staring out at the briefing room. He'd ordered the wall taken down to enlarge the room just twenty-four hours ago, disapproving the bunker-like feel of the old layout. He found claustrophobia heightened tension unnecessarily, never an aid to clear thinking among his officers, or the civilian consultant George was now responsible for.

He was looking forward to meeting to Dr. Jackson. The young man was without doubt a visionary genius, an idealist, and equally problematic, something of a nonconformist. Fortunately, George wasn't in the habit of judging a man until he knew him. A file could only describe the man's record. Colonel O'Neill's candid report on Dr. Jackson - explicitly ordered for George's eyes only, not West's - was an eye opener in more ways than O'Neill would be comfortable with.

George had acted on O'Neill's recommendation that they make Jackson part of his unit ASAP, trusting his motive was primarily concern for Jackson's welfare. Watching the two men walk into the briefing room, a bashful Jackson almost hiding behind O'Neill's shoulder, he amusedly amended his preliminary assessment. Anyone wanting a piece of Jackson would have to take O'Neill first. George wouldn't fault protectiveness in a C.O., particularly for a civilian.

He timed his arrival perfectly, stepping up to the head of the new briefing table, his men surging up to their feet as Jackson started to sit down. There were quick grins from Major Kawalsky and Captain Ferretti, which Jackson took in good part, simply straightening up again. The boy didn't mind embarrassment, a rare enough trait. O'Neill did. He frowned at Hammond, recognising and disapproving his tactic. He wasn't afraid to show his displeasure either.

"Gentlemen," George greeted his men smoothly, taking his seat.

"Sorry. Where are Catherine and Barbara?" Jackson demanded before George could speak or his officers were settled.

He was amused to see O'Neill frown at Jackson this time.

"Daniel!" O'Neill hissed warningly, low-voiced.

"Jack?" Jackson asked, looking confused. Then his face cleared. "Catherine Langford and Dr. Shore," he offered by way of explanation.

"You're not supposed to speak until after the general," Kawalsky informed him kindly, fighting a grin.

Jackson considered this, biting his lip thoughtfully. "Is there a guide to Air Force customs and rituals?" he appealed to George directly.

"I'll have a copy of the regulations delivered to your office and task Colonel O'Neill to provide appropriate orientation," George promised, ruthlessly suppressing a grin of his own as Jackson glanced at O'Neill, his chin coming up defiantly. Their civilian consultant sniffed disparagingly, possibly for effect.

The young man's innocent wide-eyed charm appeared to have a disastrous effect on military discipline. Especially on O'Neill's. Kawalsky had served with the colonel for ten years, Ferretti for two. It was obvious to George from the swift sidelong glances the two were sharing that O'Neill wasn't reacting to Jackson in ways they expected him to. In point of fact, the colonel looked like he was trying not to laugh, his tightly compressed lips twitching.

George had yet to decide if this was a good thing. O'Neill was bad news. A superb field leader with a ruthless streak, a serious attitude problem and a worse reputation. His men were proud of their hard-ass C.O. but didn't always like him, everyone who had an opinion called him a stone killer. Knowing the missions O'Neill was recruited for and the reasoning behind it, the colonel was the last man George would have assigned to command a gentle, idealistic scholar the future viability of this extraordinary command depended on. Except for one thing. He could see with his own eyes Jackson trusted O'Neill, turned to him instinctively, and more than that, he plainly liked the man. It didn't fit what George knew of either of them and he was intrigued enough to be prepared to play this hand out.

He answered Dr. Jackson's original question, acknowledging the fairness of it. "I rescinded General West's order to recall the civilian scientists." Jackson stiffened, straightening up to fire off some retort, O'Neill's warning look having no impact at all. "They couldn't accomplish in two years what you did in two weeks." It was exactly what West had said to Jackson. The doctor's answer, when it came, was far milder than George suspected was originally intended.

"To be fair, Barbara - Dr. Shore - was an astrophysicist, not a linguist, and she delivered everything that was asked of her," Jackson defended her quietly.

The show of loyalty was something George could appreciate.

"As it stands, the situation with the civilian scientists is contained, Daniel, " O'Neill spoke up, offering an unsolicited explanation. "As far as they're concerned, the Stargate only went one place, we activated it, travelled through it and eliminated a potential threat to Earth. For them, it's over. If there's a chance the Stargate can be used to travel to other worlds?"

"Other worlds with Stargates," Jackson interjected absently. Everyone looked at him. "It takes two to activate the-"

"Wormhole," a woman's voice sang out crisply from behind him. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting, Sir."

George stood to return her salute, watching with interest as his men reacted to the arrival of the tall, pretty, blue-eyed blonde.

"Dr. Jackson?" Carter asked eagerly.

Jackson stood up to return the proffered handshake. "Captain Carter," he greeted her politely.

"Dr. Carter," she corrected him, smiling.

"Captain Carter is an astrophysicist." George noted that Kawalsky and Ferretti were puffing up visibly, presumably to yank Carter's chain, Jackson was curious and as for O'Neill, the colonel was palpably unenthusiastic about the way Jackson and Carter were jabbering excitedly about event horizons.

"If you're such a hot-shot, Carter, how come you're just showing up now?" O'Neill asked suddenly, his pleasant tone at odds with the arms deliberately folded across his chest. "Daniel was wondering."

"Yes," Jackson agreed brightly as he sat down.

"If I may be candid?" Carter shot George a quick look and he nodded permission for her to speak.

"Politics," she said ruefully. "Dr. Shore's work is brilliant. She supervised my doctoral thesis at Stanford."

"Wormhole physics?" Jackson interjected, seeming genuinely interested.

"That's correct. I'm a theoretical astrophysicist," Carter told Jackson as she took her seat, next to his. "Unfortunately, thanks to four years at the Air Force Academy, I'm also an engineer, which Barbara isn't. Her background is pure physics. The Air Force had two major projects with vast potential for scientific discovery and military application."

Jackson's enthusiasm dimmed. George noted his reaction calmly, pleased he had the sense - or maybe the courtesy - not to be openly dismissive of the Air Force agenda Carter so clearly believed in. As did they all.

"The first was the Stargate," Carter smiled warmly at Jackson, giving credit for success where it was due, "The second was a project engineering nanicites. Nanotechnology," she explained.

"You got the engineering project and Shore got Project Blue Book, yadda, yadda," O'Neill impatiently finished for her. "General?" He fired this at George as an accusation, an impatient gesture accompanying the sharp tone.

"With respect, Sir, I did design the dialling protocols for the program that allows the mainframe to interface with the Stargate," Carter snapped. "And Dr. Shore has kept me fully apprised of all developments here."

"Carter means she's read the reports," Kawalsky translated for Jackson, eyes twinkling.

"How'd your little robots do?" Ferretti asked interestedly.

"We were able to gather a great deal of pertinent data," Carter responded stiffly.

"She means they didn't," O'Neill said dryly. "I don't know about you guys, but that just fills me with confidence," he drawled, tossing down the pen he'd been futzing with, for added emphasis.

"Jack," Jackson snapped, frowning at O'Neill. Their gazes clashed, O'Neill's face cold and closed off. Jackson said nothing else, simply gazed steadily at him, tight-lipped and disappointed.

George would swear O'Neill was as surprised by the grudging apology he muttered in Carter's direction as his men were. There was obviously more to Jackson than met the eye. Far more, if he could exert this kind of influence over O'Neill where even the Air Force Chief of Staff had failed.

"For the record, Captain Carter," Kawalsky spoke into the awkward pause. "The Colonel has a problem with scientists."

"A big problem," Ferretti backed him up, nodding sagely.

Jackson looked up, clearly surprised. "He does?" he asked innocently.

Even George had difficulty suppressing a snort of laughter.

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