"Sargent First Class Rowan Bridget O'Conner".

Jerking my head up from checking out my duffel. again . I called back "Present!"

Oh for cryin' out loud, O'Conner, stop it! It isn't going anywhere and it's not like in over 15 years you've never PCS'd before. But, this was shaping up to be something really off the wall. I had known this was going to be an assignment like nothing I'd ever seen or heard of. The depth of the background and security checks had been intense enough to prove that.

If we just weren't stuck here waiting, I'd be dealing with this a lot better. I don't do 'hover in place' very well. I wanted to get this thing off the ground and find out what I'm gonna be doing. To do *something* other than just stand around out here in this huge, drafty corridor like we've been doing for the last 20 minutes or so. I don't do 'waiting'. Probably the major reason I've stayed in the Medical Corps all these years.

It may not be pretty. That's for sure.

The hours may suck. They certainly do.

But, at least you're doing something useful and you're keeping busy. Ya'. Waiting for it. Doing something about it. Cleaning up after it. Or all three at the same time.

The knot of men and women around me suddenly quieted as an medium built, brown haired gentleman in an set of BDU's approached us.

"Good Day, Ladies and Gentlemen. I am Tech Sargent Masterson. I am your escort. Do not, at any time, leave or become separated from this group. If you 'do' become separated, remain exactly where you are: do not . I repeat do not move from that location or try to find us on your own. A security team will be dispatched to locate you."

Interesting, nothing said about what happens when they 'find' you.

"This is designated a 'High Security Facility', as I'm sure you are aware of. Any deviations from Command SOP's and Security Regulations will be dealt with swiftly and aggressively. Is that clear?" The TSgt paused.

"Please collect your personal items and move this way." We grabbed our gear and stepped out after our escort through a disorienting collections of twists and turns that seemed to last forever.

The young man stopped without warning in the middle of a corridor that looked indistinguishable from any of the ones we'd just spent the last ten minutes walking through. Reaching forward, he grabbed a large 'D' lever and pulled it down. The huge, square door in front of him slide smoothly aside with just a quiet breath of sound to mark it's movement.

Sargent Masterson motioned for the collection of us to follow him into the next room. One by one, we fell in line and filed into the cavernous room beyond. All of us were experienced military professionals, but that experience still left me totally unprepared for the sight that greeted me - the large, ring shaped object that filled one entire wall of the over three story chamber. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the object . it's sheer bulk and presence dominated every living thing in the space. No one in that hall remained untouched. A slight gasp, a stuttered step, everyone was affected in some fashion. The view was overwhelming.

And magnificent.

What the!? ... Just what the Hell is that?

A reverence filled voice, soft and low, asked, "What is it?"

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is The Stargate." The pride was open and honest in Masterson's voice.

Dear, Holy, Mother of God! That's ..

A strident voice broke the surrounding silence.

"Attention!"

Not knowing where else to go, we 'dressed' against the wall behind us: the one opposite the 'gate'. Heads came up, eyes forward and backs straight; hands automatically dropped to the side. This was a familiar piece of the military that all in the room shared, no matter the service. That simple action helped gave me a point of focus to hang on to and let my jitters settle.

As much as they could.

A large door slid aside on the wall opposite our entry. Those staff members working in the room stopped their actions to direct their full attention to the large man who entered. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, he sent them back to their duties. His round face held a pleasant expression as he approach our formation. The two silver stars on his shoulder boards, identifying him as the Base Commander of this complex, winked in the fluorescent lights of the hall..

"At ease, people, and welcome to the SGC. I'm General Hammond and I'd like a few words with you before your formal orientation."

We had just come face to face with the man who was our new commanding officer. then man we would work for and with. And, hopefully, answer some of our questions about the incredible device we shared the room with and how we would fit into this 'new home'. Believe me, he had our undivided attention.

"I realize that you have been kept in the dark about this project. You have all taken polygraphs and been investigated very, very carefully. I'm here to tell you why."

Finally!

As if an old, comfortable habit, the General brought his hands together behind his back and began to slowly walk back and forth in front in front of us: stopping for a space to catch each of our eye's; to give of us a personal soft smile of welcome as he spoke.

"You come from different services and specialties, some of them rather surprising. You are sorely needed. You will work unheard of hours and come to hate the sound of the alarm. You will train and train some more. And there will be times when it will not be a drill."

His face turned abruptly solemn. "Because, ladies and gentlemen, we are at war." He stopped; his eyes raking down the line before continuing. "Our opponents are like nothing you have ever imagined. You will not believe it at first, but you will come to believe it with every fiber of your being in a short time."

It was a bit unnerving to see the brief veil of sorrow that settled over his features, but I think few of my comrades even noticed it with the speed that the General regained his composure.

"The object behind me is a gateway to other worlds."

........ Oh ....

Oh, I'd 'heard' rumors since arriving at Ft. Carson in Colorado Springs about 'Trans-spatial gateways', 'wormhole technology', 'alien invaders' ... and had granted that 'information' pretty much the same credence I'd always given that sort of thing in the past- 99.5% salt, 0.5% 'who knows'. I was never a big fan of the 'National Enquirer'. But to be told that it wasn't just 'science fiction' but living, breathing fact?

... My! .. What other 'scientific truths' of the world that had I always just accepted that were actually crap?

Get it together, O'Conner! You're missing the briefing!

Our varied responses to Hammond's statement must have been pretty comical: he let a smile played over his lips for a moment before he got back to work.

"Yep, straight out of the latest science fiction thriller."

Right there, he lost the smile.

And so did I.

"But, this is no fantasy. It works, and on the other side are some of the meanest SOBs you are likely to meet, ever. Some nice folks, too, I'm glad to say. We've made some allies in our battle."

I couldn't pull my eyes away from the man standing in front of me. Not just because of his rank, but the seriousness, the total sincerity in each and every thing he said. I was riveted in place; totally captured by each sentence, each word.

"SGC, in case you wondered, stands for Star Gate Command. We are organized into teams and support units. Some of you will be assigned to teams. Some, like our new medical staff member here," he hand gestured in my general direction, "will be especially welcome."

Oh . I don't know that I like the sound of that.

"There are a lot of casualties in war and we certainly get our fair share. But, you are all important. This is a small cadre and the casualty rate is high. Sometimes due to battle but also due to stress."

The General stopped in place and faced us, his hands once again behind his back sitting in the 'parade rest' position.

"I'm not trying to be grim here, folks. We also know how to have fun. And the research we do here will make your toes curl in pleasure. Not all the long hours are mandated. Most people here don't want to go home. They are too involved in what they are doing and I have to order some of our people to take R&R."

O-kay. This has to be seen to be believed. Ordered on R&R?

"In a nutshell," he continued, "there are 12 SG teams. These teams go through the 'Gate' and explore other worlds. Sometimes they find nothing. Sometimes they meet people and set up diplomatic relationships. Sometimes they end up in a fight and come home wounded or dead. Right now we have 3 teams out there," he gestured with his arm and we followed that movement like a retriever follows a duck, faces pulled toward the Stargate. Would I ever get comfortable with that name and all it implied? "SG-1, our premier first contact team, SG-5 one of our diplomatic teams, and SG-11 our..."

The 'Gate' room exploded in a wall of harsh noise as an alarm klaxon began blaring. I thought I could hear it echoing down the hallways outside and through out the base itself. It startled every person in the room, the General included.

At that moment the great 'Stargate', standing against the wall right in front of us, began to grind and move of its own accord. You could see the inner circle beginning to spin.

Organized chaos took over. Two teams of men, armed with not only with M-16's and MP-5's, but at least two close support rocket launchers, poured through the two doors with well rehearsed precision, taking up defensive positions at the base of the gate's grated metal ramp. All other personnel left the room in a controlled but rapid manner. In retrospect, I have no idea why our small cadre didn't sprint out with the rest of the real staff, but I know I was far too caught up in the moment to think about it. And traditionally, medical staff don't 'bug out', we 'bug in'. I don't think the idea of leaving ever entered my mind.

Or any one else's, either.

The huge ring was continuing to move. Every moment or so a portion of it would shine with a ruddy glow and a loud 'k'chunk' would sound out. The disembodied voice above us called out as each event happened.

'K'chunk'

'K'chunk'

The Special Ops teams hunkered themselves down one notch more.

'K'chunk'

With a sound like a rushing waterfall, the Stargate burst into shining life.

It was an incredible sight. A rippling sheet of shining blue filled the center area of the ring and a huge outrush of light What the hell is it? blew out from its center. And the sound. A sort of 'whoosh' is the closest I can come to describing it. No one in the room made a move while that wave and sound filled the space in front of the ring.

Abruptly, the plume disappeared, replaced by a glowing, flat disk whose surface dimpled and wavered like a sun-dappled lake.

General Hammond took a couple of steps backward, looking up at the glassed-in front of a room above our heads, question plain on his face. The folks upstairs obviously knew the answer as a male voice crackled out over the loudspeaker.

"Incoming travelers. Four of them, Sir"

"Is anyone scheduled back?"

"No, Sir, General" was the reply. The concern that flashed across his flushed face shocked even the most 'out of it' among us to awareness. To a man, we shrank back and hugged the wall, shoving our gear as far out of the way as possible. We may not have had a clue as to what was coming down, but we were now well and truly in the middle of it. Fear and excitement pulled at my gut bringing with it a hot flush to my neck and face . and a damp chill down my spine. Adrenaline began to flood through each individual body cell - the primal brain preparing itself for the 'fight or flight' response that had saved many a life in the past of the human race.

Mine included.

The tinny loudspeaker came to life again. "It's SG-1, Sir. Shall I get medical?"

I could just hear him mutter to himself "They're early." before the General shouted "Yes!", clearly looking worried. I guess being early isn't always a good thing around here.

At that exact moment a figure materialized at the margin of the event horizon and stepped though.

The man was huge. Broad across the body and tall; the darkness of his skin brought into contrast by some form of golden emblem that rested on his forehead. Cradled in his arms was the slack body of another man, hanging limply in the way that speaks unconsciousness: left arm dangling; blood running down his forearm and beginning to drip, drop by drop, onto the grating beneath them. The first soldier's deep voice was booming out a call for 'Medical Assistance' even as he knelt at the foot of the ramp, still holding the unconscious man protectively against his chest.

Behind him two others staggered through the blue film, the second holding his right arm tightly across his chest. Broken. Even though in obvious pain, he searched the room until he saw the two at the foot of the ramp.

With obvious concern, he knelt beside the bleeding man and gently brushed a lock of long, golden brown hair back from the pale face, all the while murmuring softly to the young solider.

I don't know how I did it, but I didn't jump the line and sprint to the ramp. but God, I wanted to. There was a man down, at least another hurt and I'm a medic - first and foremost. If another second or so had passed, I probably would have, but what was obviously a med team headed by who I would guess to be a Doctor - by her look and bearing - flew through the gate room door. I tried to relax and stand ready all at the same time, in case another set of hands were needed. Hell . I didn't know what the 'standards' were around here. This might be considered nothing out of the ordinary.

That was a frightening thought.

"Daniel's..." began the last soldier through. He had no rank on him, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was the team's CO. He had that look and carriage about him. It should have seemed incongruous: this tall man - greying hair cut to regulation, seemingly oblivious to all around him - offering the comfort of human touch and voice to the wounded man laying in front of him, but these actions spoke more eloquently than words. This was the kind of commander you'd follow even when you knew they were asking the impossible. The kind who truly cared about the troops under their command.

The kind of commander I would follow without qualm or hesitation.

"I've got him, Colonel." The small woman had assessed the bleeding solider and directed two Corpsmen to gently place the him on the gurney. "Get him down to the infirmary. I'll be right behind you." She then turned to the tall man in front of her.

"How about you, Sir?" She sounded quite at ease with the situation. Obviously not something new to her.

"Arm's broken, I think," he smiled at her, "but no holes in me. I can walk."

She made eye contact with the two other team members on the ramp and received a shake 'negative' from each in turn. Assured that all remaining were all right, she nodded to the General and the Colonel in turn and followed the path of the Corpsmen out the door.

The Colonel turned to General Hammond. "You should see the other guy," he quipped.

"Debriefing at 1300, Colonel, after Dr Frasier has cleared you all." I couldn't tell for sure, the way he was holding his head, but I would swear that the General was trying hard not to smile.

"Yes, Sir." The Colonel gestured for his team to following him out of the room.

"Stand down." At the sound of the loudspeaker, the Special Ops teams gathered they equipment and left the area, doors closing on both sides of the room behind them.

With a slight share of his head, General Hammond turned back to face us.

"Well, you got a bonus today. You've seen the Stargate in action and got to see SG-1 come home. Don't worry. That team is remarkably hard to kill. After a few days, they'll go out again."

They look like that, and they'll be going 'out again' in a few days?

"I think I've talked enough. Master Sergeant Hopkins here will give you the real scoop--where the coffee is, and the gym, and where you'll bunk when you don't go home. Just remember..." His eyes swept over us, his gaze fixed on each of us in turn. The contact would only last a split second before drifting down the line, but I think Gen Hammond learned everything he wanted to know about each of us in that glance.

'The Look'. That's the only way I've ever be able to describe it. He fixed each of us with 'The Look'. It's the one your CO gives you just before your team moves out into the jungle. The one you get from your Triage Officer when the RTO tells the two of you got casualties, a lot, comin' to your station with an ETA of 10 minutes - but you can both hear the rotors already coming in from 'way off in the distance.

It's the one you get just before the 'shit hits the fan'. The 'Did I make the right choice going with you?' look. The 'Can I count on you for 110 - 120% - or more?' look. The 'Will you be my 'last man standing' if that's what it takes?' look.

'The Look'

When my turn came, I responded with a slight nod of recognition and received a ghost of a smile in return.

"We are the Earth's first line of defense against a formidable foe. You are all an important part of that defense. God speed, and welcome to Star Gate Command."

"Attention."

The line of us snapped to attention and threw a salute. The General return that military courtesy, turned and left us with MSgt Hopkins.

Off to the side I could hear Hopkins beginning to herd my fellow 'fledging' SGC members out of the room. I tried to move in that general direction, but my head kept shutting down my feet, trying to force me to find a comfortable sense of 'belonging here' before it would let me leave the room. My head didn't want me to walk out into the big, wide, very new world outside this room without knowing if I could do this?

And you know? At this exact moment, I couldn't tell it yes or no.

There just was no point of reference for what I had seen and had been tacitly asked to commit myself to do. How could I judge if I was so far in over my head I couldn't see it. If I would turn out to be the 'weak link' that would cause the end of the entire world. I didn't know. I wouldn't know until it happened. It's like being in combat: you don't know if you can have a human being in you sights and make yourself pull the trigger until that exact moment happens.

And I was becoming scared shitless that I'd be the one who'd 'choked' when it came down to 'put up or shut up'. And trusting men and women would die because of me.

Bullshit! You passed the 'big one', gal. He gave you 'The Look' and you passed. He smiled, remember? He picked you right then. He's the one who has to decide if you have 'the right stuff' for the entire command. He's done this a lot of times before. He can't let himself be wrong. You're the one who has to decide if you can do the job they hired you for. Come on, woman. What was your first unit's motto? Remember that? "To Comfort and Aid"?

Oh. Yeah. I made it this far on my medical background alone. Guess that says something.

Damn straight. You already proved that by trying to jump in when that team came back broken - auto-pilot, right? Think people didn't noticed that 'knee-jerk' reaction? So - take a deep breath, get a grip and get on with your duty, Sargent. Get your ass out there and heal things.

A shudder ran through my body. And a mucking heavy rock lifted off my back and neck. Shaking the stiffness from hips and legs, I finally started for the exit. Things were settling into place. Fears were ducking for a hiding spot as my confidence came back.

I stopped trying to 'understand' and contented myself with just letting the emotions and the experiences of the last few moments wash over me. become a part of me. I'm hoping I'll be able to recall most of these last 15 minutes when things become 'just all part of a day's work' as all jobs eventually do, to some extent. I just had one hell of a personal 'Ah Ha!', as well as a professional one.

On my way through the door frame, I paused for a moment and glanced back over my shoulder at the now silent ring. Oh. What has Momma O'Conner's little girl let herself get into this time? My thoughts took a brief 'time out' and then answered themselves.

Probably the biggest challenge of your entire career.

And one that would change my life forever.

I felt my lips and face shift into a contented smile as my footsteps joined in with the crisp echoed tread of those who had left the room but a brief moment before me.

The End

Feedback to Rowan