Letters to Jack
Letter 1:
Dear General O'Neill,
Hello from Pegasus, I guess.
I've already written my mission report, but I just can't seem to close
the computer down. I don't have anyone really to write home to,
and you seemed like a nice guy, for a General. Plus, we both know
that mission reports never really tell the whole story. So, here
I am typing out something you may never see. I'm sure the company
shrink would call this therapeutic or something...
Everything is finally starting to
settle down around here. People are developing routine to get
past the "we're in another galaxy!" thing. But me, I still don't
feel comfortable. You talked me into this in a way, so maybe
that's the reason I'm writing this. It's not like I'm blaming you
for getting me into this, so don’t get that impression, sir. No,
I got myself into all of this. I could have said no. I very
nearly did. I wonder now how things would have been different if
I had. Would Sumner still be alive? If not, who would take
his place? I'm pretty sure whoever it was would be doing a better
job than me. I didn't get into the Air Force to tell other people
what to do. I just wanted to fly. Now, people depend on me
and it's damned scary, sir. I've already screwed up worse than I
ever had. I'm the one that let those things loose into this
galaxy. Sure they would have woke up eventually, but that doesn't
make me feel any better. If I could do that, how can I keep these
people safe? You don't know how they look at me... but then
again, I bet you do. I bet people look at you like that all the
time. Is that what being a General is like? If so, I don't
think I ever want to be promoted, no offense, sir.
I've been thinking about my
team. We're going to need an SG-1 here, that's for sure. I
don't know much about you guys other than meeting Dr. Jackson that
once, and the few reports I was authorized to look at. I tried to
take those impressions into consideration when picking my own
guys. What I have learned, is that the science nerds are the ones
that save your ass. At least you're lucky to have Colonel
Carter. She seemed nice from the one time I passed her in the
hall before we left Colorado. She certainly can't be any worse
than McKay. I don't think anyone could be worse than
McKay. But the guy knows his stuff and I'm going to need
that around here. So that's one. Teyla is another easy
choice. She's the only one that knows what's going on around
here. She's got the Pegasus street smarts, as it were.
Plus, she's strong as hell, and I'm not just talking muscles. I
think she'll do well. I wish you could meet her, sir. I
think you two would get along. So anyway, that's two.
Number three is a bit harder. I need someone else military.
I don't know these guys that well. I bet Sumner knew them all
backwards and forwards. The only one I've had real contact with
is Lieutenant Ford. He seems like a nice enough guy, for a
Marine. Young for sure, but he's loyal as all hell. I can
see it shining out of his eyes like a puppy. I know that he's
capable or he wouldn't have been sent on this wild ride, so I guess
he's going to be number three. Maybe it wasn't as hard as I made
it out to be. I'll have to look into doing some training
exercises with the three of them. Hopefully, I can get us working
like a team before we get out there in the galaxy and embarrass
ourselves.... Actually, if you ever get tired of Dr. Jackson and
find a spare ZPM lying around, feel free to shove him through. We
could use all the help we can get, and that's including Dr. Weir's
negotiation skills.
It's almost time for dinner,
sir. I hope everything is okay back on Earth. I hope I get
to see it again soon. Plus, you still owe me that beer you
promised for not getting us blown up by that drone. I look
forward to drinking it with you.
Sincerely,
Major John Sheppard, Atlantis
Letter 2:
Dear General O'Neill,
Have you ever had someone surprise
you? I mean, completely take you off guard and do something you
would have thought was way out of character for them. That
happened to me today. I still can't explain it. Rodney
McKay, genius jerk of the world, risked his life to save all of
us. Go figure. It's like I've had to reorder everything in
my brain, sir. I picked Rodney to be on my team because I know
what kind of a scientist he is, but I guess before today I never
realized just what kind of man he is.
Maybe you've read the mission
report by the time you read this, maybe not. I might have gotten
a little flowery about McKay there at the end, but I still just can't
wrap my head around it. It's not that I think Rodney is a bad guy
or that he wouldn't put his life on the line if he had to... It's
just, he's not supposed to. That's my job. I'm here to keep
the scientists safe. They're the reason we're even in Atlantis in
the first place. I'm the expendable one. I've known that
since I first joined up, sir. It's not pretty, but it's the truth.
This place though... We are so out
of our league. Whatever the hell that shadow was, bullets
wouldn't have stopped it. My flying skills or the Ancient gene
wouldn't have helped. No, it took a scared Canadian to get the
job done. And the more I think about it, sir, the more I realize
that's the kind of place we're in now. Back home, the enemy was
always 'them'. Now, though, sometimes the enemy is an 'it' and
sometimes I'm not going to be the one that can take care of it.
And that? That is scarier than the Wraith any day.
Still looking forward to that beer.
Sincerely,
Major John Sheppard, Atlantis
Letter 3:
Dear General O'Neill,
I'm writing this from a laptop in
the infirmary. Dr. Beckett has taken pity on me and let me get
some work done while I lay here. I had a really rough day
yesterday. Almost died, hell, I guess I did die. Man,
it's weird to see that in print. Not new to you though, I
guess. I've heard some of the stories about SG-1 from the Marines
here. Stackhouse says you guys must have your own revolving door
in heaven. I don't envy you, that's for sure, sir. Dying
sucks. Having an alien bug chewing at your neck sucking away your
life? Also not high on my things to redo list. I don't
think I'll ever be able to watch the Alien movies again.
Beckett assures me that there will
be little to no scarring. I don't think it matters because I'm
not sure I'll be able to look in a mirror again and not see that thing
hanging off my neck. Scars I could worry less about.
Everyone's been by to wish me the
best and to check on me. Rodney brought me lunch. I think
he's feeling guilty for his panic moment in the Jumper. Not that
he'd ever admit it. There are certainly no hard feelings on my
part. After all, he saved our butts yet again. I'm not sure
if he sees it that way. For an egomaniac he can be pretty
critical of himself. Teyla was pretty calm under pressure.
Ford did well himself. I'm glad to know I made the right
choices. Dr. Weir and the scientists back here on Atlantis didn't
do too shabby either. Rodney assures me that I really owe my life
to some Czech guy whose name he can't seem to remember. I'll ask
Elizabeth when I get out of here and make sure to thank the guy in
person.
My neck hurts, and Dr. Beckett is
starting to give me the eye. I guess it's time I got some more
rest. To be honest, sir, right now I think I'd kill for that beer
you promised. I could use one after all this mess.
Sincerely,
Major John Sheppard, Atlantis
Letter 4:
Dear General O'Neill,
You know, I think part of the reason that I realized that I wasn't
really home, aside from the dead guys, was that you weren't there,
sir. It's silly to think that we're friends just because I'm a
nut case and write this stupid letters to you that you'll likely never
get, but in a way that's what this feels like.
I had a pen pal when I was a kid. Mom encouraged it since we
moved around a lot. She said that no matter where we ended up I'd
always have a friend. Later on when I was stationed overseas, I
often wished that I still had that guy's address. It seems like
I've transferred that notion to you. If you ever do get to read
these... I don't know. Maybe I don't even want you
to. You're probably really busy being a General and all.
Anyway, like I was saying, I knew it wasn't home because you weren't
there. No offense to General Hammond. He seems like a nice
guy, smoky alien though he may be. Hell, Rodney even told me as
much--in between bitching about getting sent off to Russia--and he
hates everyone. I suppose I just thought that since you seemed so
sure this job was for me that you'd want to check up on me and see how
I was doing. You probably haven't even given me a second thought,
sir, which I understand. Like I said, you're busy.
Two things I've learned from this little adventure. One, Teyla
looks really good in civvies, and two, Rodney needs to get out
more. I mean who creates a fantasy world where you watch TV and
work in a lab?
At least I got some beer, imaginary or not.
Sincerely,
Major John Sheppard
Letter 5:
Dear General O'Neill,
I killed almost seventy men today. I'm not quite sure how I feel
about that. I've been in the Air Force long enough to have used
ordinance, but usually it was at a very long range. You don't
have to think about the numbers when you drop a bomb and fly
away. It's easy to distance yourself. Today, I had to
actually look into the face of my enemy. Turns out, sometimes
that face is a cute little blonde girl. Sometimes, it's a mean
son of a bitch that's just as much a product of his military as I am of
mine.
Of course, if I had to relive this day, I'd do the same damn
thing. I'd protect Weir and Rodney and my city all over
again. I don't suppose I'm telling you anything you don't already
know, sir. Hell, you've probably seen more action than I ever
will. I guess I just never stopped to think about it
before. I'm not as much of a pilot as I used to be.
It's not that I don't love flying the Jumpers, because I do. You
have no idea how awesome it is, sir. I wish that you could come
and visit because I'd let you take one of the Jumpers out and we could
have that beer on the mainland's south tip and watch the waves roll
in. Maybe then you could tell me how I ought to be doing this job
because I really don't have a clue.
It seems stupid to say "wish you were here," but I do.
Sincerely,
John
Letter 6:
O'Neill,
It would have been nice if someone
had warned me that the hot alien chicks might be... you know
ALIEN. I mean the marines have been joking about it since before
we left, but there's something about seeing a woman you have the hots
for turn into a glowy—I don't even know what—that tends to take the
funny out of the joke. Rodney had the nerve to call me
Kirk. It wasn't until after I got back when Doc Beckett was
looking me over with that critical 'you did something stupid' doctor
eye that it really hit me.
Rodney was right.
You have no idea how much I hate admitting that. Don't get me
wrong, Chaya was special. There was something about her that just
called to me. She was probably the first woman I've ever met
that... No, you don't want to hear this, and frankly, I don't
really want to think about it. What it all boils down to is that
I let a woman cloud my judgment. Back when I just had to worry
about myself, that was fine, but now—now I have a whole city that
depends on me. Plus a pissed off astrophysicist who is giving me
the absolute devil. The sheer number of sudden unexplainable
maintenance problems in my room is amazing.
In short, never trust a woman from another galaxy, and never make the
guy that keeps the hot water running mad. I'm going to go take a
cold shower now. I probably deserve it.
Sincerely,
John
Letter 7:
O'Neill,
Turns out Rodney really is a genius. We're going to be sending a
message home. If you've read the reports, you already know that
the Wraith are bearing down on us. I've been staying positive for
the others, but I know that there's no way in hell we have a chance,
sir. I've seen a culling with my own eyes.
I debated sending these letters along with all the other things.
I've been bending your ear for months now, only you haven't been
listening, not really. Sending these seems silly. We don't
really know each other, and more than likely you've forgotten all about
me. But by the time you read these there's a really good chance
that I'll be dead. Guess I won't have to worry about being
embarrassed then. So the hell with it, maybe you'll read them and
maybe you won't. Either way, writing them has gotten me through
some tough times, and I respect you enough to think that you'll
appreciate that.
If you do read these, there's a favor I'd like to ask of you in lieu of
that beer it looks like I'm never going to get. Don't send
someone from the Air Force to tell my mom I'm gone. Send one of
your scientists instead. And tell them to tell her...
Tell her...
Tell her I understand now.
I have to go make sure Rodney's eaten something, see if Teyla needs any
more people to help with the Athosian evacuation, and to look over the
security layout with Ford and Bates.
I wish you all the best, Jack. And never once think that I regret
you talking me into this.
Your friend,
John
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