July 2005
It’s kind of ironic really. A year ago, give or take, I was stationed at quite literally the ass-end of the world, no matter what I said about liking it there, because I’d disobeyed a direct order in order to save lives. My friends still died; I was sent to the worst duty station they could think of; and it all indirectly led to me being here.
Atlantis.
The lost city of the Ancients, located in another freaking galaxy, where I’m the highest ranking officer, in charge of keeping everyone alive despite my civilian commander ignoring my advice when she thinks she knows better. And sometimes she turns out to be right - go figure. But it’s still my responsibility, a responsibility I never wanted, and suddenly I find myself killing people. Lots of people.
Sumner. Wraith. Dozens of Genii whose names I’ll never know. Soldiers who died at my orders.
I’m a pilot, damn it. When I fight, it’s supposed to be from the air, clean and neat. I’m not supposed to see their eyes as they die.
But it’s them or us. The Wraith or Atlantis and eventually Earth. The Genii or McKay.
And that’s another weird thing.
I’ve always known I was interested in men as well as women, but being in the Air Force and all, I’ve mostly confined myself to the opposite sex. Which explains my three ex-wives. Tall, gorgeous, busty, very female. That was my type. And then I met the most annoying man in two galaxies, not to mention the smartest, and I fell hard. Maybe it was because his eyes are the color of the sky I love to fly through, or maybe because he saw past the act I use to keep people out and saw me. But whatever the reason, I can’t imagine not being with him now.
Just like I can’t imagine anywhere else as home anymore. So I guess it’s a good thing Elizabeth wants to keep me here too. We’re a good team, all of us, despite our losses.
Still, it’s funny that I ended up here because of trying to save lives, and because I was here, I’ve ended up taking them.
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