The Box is Closed
by Sheryl Rieling
The shimmering blue event horizon of the Stargate rippled as the returning SG-6 emerged from its glowing center. Major General George Hammond turned away from the briefing room window that overlooked the gate and headed to the stairs leading down to the control room. Sergeant Siler watched him with guarded eyes as Hammond gestured towards the gate.
"OK son. Close the wormhole and take the dialing program offline."
Siler blinked at him owlishly behind his wire rims. "Sir?"
"We are officially shut down as of…." Hammond checked his watch, "16:25 hours. We are to close the gate and await official notification by the Senate Appropriations Committee." He straightened his tie. Closing down this command was not a duty he was looking forward to but he was above all else, a soldier. He would proceed with his orders in a calm, proficient military manner. SG-6 was the last field off-world unit to return through the Gate. Leaning past Siler, Hammond grasped the microphone. "SG-6! Your debriefing is scheduled for 900 hours tomorrow. Get cleaned up and report to the mess hall for an announcement." Through the observation window, he could read the confusion in their body language and curious looks. A meeting in the Mess hall was highly unusual but Hammond wanted an informal setting for this most distressing announcement. He could have told the various personnel through the chain of command after meeting with all of the supervisors but he felt that these men (and women, he corrected himself) deserved to be told by him, not some impersonal re-assignment memo from Corp HQ. After satisfying himself that Siler had everything under control, he turned and headed back up the stairs to his office.
As he passed the conference room table he noticed the scraps of paper discarded by the members of SG-1. On impulse, he gathered them up, shrugging out of his Class A jacket and continuing into his office. Moving behind his desk, he pulled open the bottom desk drawer and extracted a bottle of very contraband twelve-year-old scotch and a highball. He poured half a finger and tossed it back as he perused the papers. The top one had to be Daniel Jackson. It had hieroglyphics all over it. Written in English on the bottom was one word with an ornate box drawn around it. SHIPS. The next paper must have belonged to Captain Carter. The date was written in the right hand corner and all of the people attending the meeting were listed under it. She had apparently tried to keep notes but had given up as the meeting had deteriorated. The last paper was obviously Colonel Jack O'Neill's. He had drawn a caricature of a man hanging from a scaffold. Hammond chuckled as he noticed a resemblance between the hanged man and Lt. Colonel Samuels. He was going to miss the vitriolic humor of Colonel O'Neill most of all. He was always good for a laugh when things seemed hopeless. Unfortunately Jack was not in a joking mood at the moment. *Neither am I* thought Hammond. He looked around his office taking in the personal objects he had scattered throughout the room. He had a lot of packing to do. Retirement was definitely just around the next corner. He poured himself another finger of Scotch and left it on the desk as he stood and buttoned himself into his jacket. He was expected in the mess hall in a few moments and he would be damned if he was going to keep those young people in suspense any longer than he had to. SG-6 should be getting there right about now. He tossed back the drink and left his office, shutting off the light and closing the door with a crisp click. The sound had a finality he didn't like and he purposely left the conference room lights on as he passed through it.
Siler watched as Hammond came down the stairs. The General nodded at him as he passed by. Siler shook his head silently as he continued to tap commands into his computer.
He didn't envy the General at this moment. Siler shook his head again. "Politics. What a mess"
Dr. Janet Frasier stuck her head into the mess hall at exactly 16:30, grimacing at the number of people crammed into the room. It seemed every off duty and non-essential person on the base was there, clustered around the various tables. There was an air of expectancy in the air. This was a highly unorthodox gathering and the higher pitch of the murmuring testified to the knowledge that there was an important announcement coming this afternoon. She spotted SG-1 sitting at a table in the front of the industrial size coffee urn. Sam, seeing her standing hesitantly in the doorway was waiving her over.
As she pulled up a chair, Janet couldn't help but notice that the mood at this table was downright gloomy. Daniel had his glasses off and was rubbing the bridge of his nose. Sam was looking at him with concern and something else. Pity? Teal'c sat at a kind of parade rest across from Janet. His dark eyes giving nothing away. It was Jack O'Neill that had all of her alarm bells ringing. He was hunched in his chair with his hands steepled in front of him, looking forward at something only he could see. There was a controlled fury written all over him and Janet hoped she was nowhere in the vicinity when he decided to blow.
"So kids", she quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood, "What's wrong? They burn the meatloaf again?"
Jack treated her to a filthy look and resumed his dead stare. "Oh Shit", thought Janet. "Not even a sarcastic comment about the food. This must be a disaster". Sam shot her a warning look and turned back to Daniel who was replacing his glasses. "A Mega-disaster" she corrected herself. Janet folded her hands together on the table and joined her friends in their silence.
"Sometimes silence really is golden".
Hammond turned the corner leading to the mess hall. Standing around the opened doors were the latecomers that hadn't arrived early enough to secure a seat. Seeing the General, they immediately filed into the room and spread themselves out along the walls.
"Standing room only" he thought. The noise in the room had quieted down to a few dispersed whispers. Finding SG-1 sitting at one of the front most tables, he nodded to the team. Everyone acknowledged him except Colonel O'Neill. He sat in an insubordinate slouch. His posture screaming louder than any tantrum he had ever thrown, and Hammond had seen some of his worst. He fixed his most stern stare at the Colonel as he walked to the front of the crowded room. He was rewarded with an insolent stare but O'Neill still managed to sit up and straighten his jacket. Hammond smiled to himself. Even O'Neill knew where to draw the line when dealing with this particular General.
"OK people" Hammond said, "Settle down." The noise in the room stopped almost at once.
"As most of you are aware, we had some VIP's here this morning. Senator Kinsey and Lt. Colonel Samuels were here on a fact-finding mission to determine the feasibility of maintaining the funding to Area 52, designated, The Stargate Program. The Senator, his aides and Lt. Col. Samuels met with SG-1 for just under an hour, at the end of which, the Stargate Program has been, in essence, de-funded."
There were amazed gasps from all over the room. There were angry exclamations, not a few of which were directed at SG-1.
"What the hell did you tell them O'Neill?" The Team sat there and said nothing. Not even bothering to defend themselves.
The General began to speak again. More forceful this time. "SG-1 was selected by the President to represent this facility and our program. At no time, was there any hint of impropriety or ill will between SG-1 and the Senator and his staff. It was simply decided that the dangers inherent in this type of travel were too great to ignore any longer. As he is the Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee, I have no choice but to concede to his wishes." Hammond paused now to look at the young faces filling the room. Either he was getting older or they got younger every year. Suddenly he was unbearably tired. "Over the coming weeks, most of you will be reassigned to various 'shut-down' teams within this complex. I know you will carry out your assigned tasks with the same diligence and industry you have shown me in the short time we have served together. I wanted to bring all of you together one last time to tell you that I have never been as proud of a command and its staff as I am of this one. It has been an honor serving with each and every one of you, and I plan to make sure that all of your transfer requests are given top priority.