The Eleventh Hour
By
Denise

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

The wormhole closes with an almost audible snap, silence rushing in to fill the void. I look around, half expecting to see my people standing in the gateroom or sitting at their posts. They should be here; they're always here. No matter the hour or day someone is here. If you want solitude, this is not the place.

But the chairs are empty, monitors flash their information, but there's no one to read them. No one but me, that is. I look at the clock. Ten minutes. We made good time; originally I thought we'd barely get all the teams through before the end. Then again, certain death has a way of making folks efficient.

Ten minutes.

That's all I have left? I always knew I'd die some day. No one goes through two wars and countless skirmishes without coming face to face with their own mortality. I've stared into that dark abyss a time or ten, each time it was a surprise. And each time it backed away and left me alone. But not this time. This time it's lurking around the corner, waiting for the clock to tick down so it can come and claim me. But not just me. Mortality is creeping up on the whole planet. At least they don't know it's coming. I wish I didn't.

Nine Minutes

So this is how it's going to end? No goa'uld attack, no virus or plague. Hell, we didn't even do it to ourselves. We're going to be rendered extinct by a rock. We're gonna get squashed by a chunk of iron like I squished that roach in my office last week.

SG-1 had to have failed. They would have contacted me by now. They know better, it's not nice to keep the general hanging like this. Maybe they can't contact me. Maybe they did crash. I try not to picture in my mind the sight of a crumpled fuselage, gaping holes and tears exposing the cabin to the vacuum of space. Four bodies mangled and bloody twisted in the wreckage. Maybe they were mercifully killed on impact; maybe they survived long enough to asphyxiate as the oxygen ran out. Maybe their radio broke and they fell back to the Alpha Site? That's what I'll tell myself. Not because I have proof but because that's what I want to believe. Maybe I'm being blind, maybe childish but, heck if I only have seven minutes left to live I'm gonna believe whatever the hell I want. I want them to be alive. They deserve to be alive. They've given so much to this place in the last five years.

I look through the glass at the gate below. Every square inch of that room has a memory imprinted on it. O'Neill pushed Carter through that gate the very first time. Daniel Jackson came back from the 'dead' and set foot on earth for the first time in a year right there. Teal'c came to earth, this time as an ally and handed Sam his staff weapon right over there. The three of them sat at the foot of that ramp in shock over Daniel Jackson's 'death'.

That ramp has seen a lot of history over the years. It's borne our pain and pride. Its surface has been christened with blood and champagne, sweat and tears. I've heard my people saying that the particular clanging sound of boots on metal is music to their ears. It tells them they're home. No other gate in the universe makes that sound.

Five Minutes

That room looks so different than it did five years ago. Parts of the ramp were replaced when Hathor's sarcophagus blew up. There are places; too many places, on the walls that show signs of concrete patches. Carter tossed O'Neill against that wall, Jack hung pinned up on that pillar over there, Sam and Daniel had Teal'c shoot the crystal right over there. In my mind's eye I can still see the tiny puddles of Martouf's blood on the floor right there.

His isn't the only blood. There's been too much blood on that floor, alien and our own. Every member of SG-1 has been carried from that room at one time or another. Each of them has spilled their blood for this command. And they keep coming back to do it again.

Four Minutes

And each time they fall Janet Fraiser has pulled them through. She may not get the glory but she's worked more miracles than SG-1. The Alpha Site is a better place with her there. She's going to have her hands full, not only with a bunch of refugees but a now twice uprooted daughter.

Technically Cassandra belongs here, but who the hell is going to be around to question my decision? And anyway I didn't add her to the list; she's taking someone's place. You tell me what good a tired old general is going to do on an alien planet? I've been to three worlds in my life, that's enough. Davis can take care of them. He's a good man and he'll be a good officer, once he gets that Pentagon stick outta his ass.

Three Minutes

Is that all that's left? 180 seconds. In the length of a network commercial break, it'll all be over. I wonder if I'll feel the impact down here. Twenty-eight stories of solid granite is a hell of a shock absorber. Maybe they're wrong about what'll happen. Maybe they're not. Something like this wiped out the dinosaurs. I always thought we were smarter than they were. Maybe someone will dig me up as a fossil in a few million years. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing those NID pains in the ass will die along with me. There's that tiny bit of justice.

Two Minutes

I wish I had more time. Time to talk to Kayla, Tessa, and their mom again. They don't know. I thought about telling them but; the last thing I can give them is their innocence until the end. If ignorance is bliss, I want them blissful. I can't save their lives and I'm not going to mar their last hours with fear just to feel a little less alone.

I wish I could walk these halls again, plant them firmly into my mind. This has been my home away from home for the last five years, my redemption. It's ironic that the job a friend arranged for me, a simple TDY to get my mind off my wife's death and make me 'useful' for those last four months has turned out to be the greatest gift of all. I'll admit I've made some tough decisions and seen some truly horrible things; but I've felt more alive in the last five years than in the twenty before it. I'll miss this place, these people.

One Minute

There's nothing more for me to do. There's no last-minute save, not this time. I finally pushed too far, asked for too much. I've been getting miracles from these people for half a decade, each one a bit more spectacular than the one before. And each time the bar was raised I was afraid it was set too high, that I was asking too much. But each time they delivered, maybe in unconventional ways, but it is the results that matter. Each time they prevailed, until now. Maybe I should have nixed their wild plan and sent them directly to the Alpha Site? Maybe then their lives won't have been lost in vain.

I leave the control room and climb the stairs to my office one last time.

Forty-Five Seconds

The stairs echo so loudly. In my mind I count off each one. Counting steps is an old, odd habit of mine.

I walk past the briefing room table, the flickering fluorescent light reflecting off its polished surface. Siler should have fixed that, changing light bulbs is his job whether he wants to admit it or not.

I sit in my chair, the soft leather wrapping around me. I've made a lot of decisions in this chair. Allowing Doctor Jackson to stay, keeping the NID's hands off Teal'c and Carter, bailing O'Neill out a time or twelve. Those people aren't just my officers, they're my family. Damn, I'm gonna miss them. I hope they're still alive, somewhere, somehow. Please let them be alive. If they couldn't save the planet, I hope they had enough sense to save themselves.

This chair is my indulgence, that and the bottle of Jack Daniels in the bottom drawer. I reach down and pull it out, the light glinting off my wedding band. I'm coming hon, just a little bit more. Georgie's coming home.

Fifteen Seconds

Twisting off the cap I toast the eagle statue, her gift to me the day I made colonel. She was so proud that day; her hands shook as she pinned those silver eagles on my shoulders. One of them is buried with her, the other was supposed to be buried with me, in case we can't recognize each other on the other side. It's at home. Oh well, we'll just have to make due.

Ten

This isn't fair. It's not supposed to end this way.

Nine

Why the hell have we been kissing ass and making allies if they can't do jack in the end.

Eight

I never did talk to him about his diplomatic skills, or lack there of…

Seven

I've noticed how he's rubbed off on Carter and Daniel, god help us all. Even Teal'c a little. Hell give Jack a few more years and he'll have that Jaffa pulling pranks like a pro. Too bad his team's sense of decorum and humility doesn't seem to work the other way.

Six

Although the day he becomes a perfectly polite reasonable man is the day this command gets as boring as a solo spelling bee.

Five

There's not going to be a miracle this time is there?

Four

That's not fair. All the miracles we've pulled off, all the planets we've saved and there's none for us.

Three

So this is how it ends? But I don't want it to end this way.

Two

To quote Mabel 'I want a happy ending'. I want a happy ending damnit!

One

Is that too much to ask?

I take a drink and close my eyes. Ready or not here I come.

Impact

???

???

???

I open my eyes. I shouldn't be able to do this. I'm dead. Aren't I? Maybe I'm too far underground? Maybe the time was off? Maybe…Maybe…

The phone rings and I jump, nearly spilling the bottle. "Hammond," I mutter into the phone. "Excuse me? You said what? Disappeared? Look son, I'm no astrophysicist but four hundred mile long space rocks don't just disappear."

I listen to him ramble on about…something a bit more then I hang up the phone. It's gone. Hot damn it's gone. I start to laugh, my voice echoing off the empty walls. I don't know how, I don't know why, and I really don't care. I just know it's gone…and we're not.

The phone rings again, this time it's THE phone. He's going to want an answer, a reason we're still alive. I wonder if he'll accept 'I don't know'?

"Yes Mister President. Yes sir. Well, from what NASA and SATCOM…I don't know sir. It may have been the Asgard. But it's my opinion SG-1 had something to do with it," I can't help but say. Call it a gut feeling. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I can recall them at any time, sir. Yes, sir I also think it would be a good idea to wait a bit. Yes, sir. Of course, sir I'll call you the second I hear anything. Yes, sir."

I hang up the phone, my hands shaking. It worked. When they come back, I'll have to ask them exactly what they did. They'll explain it all. Well, Jack will, then Carter and Daniel will fill in the twenty foot gaps in his story while Teal'c just sits there, totally bored with the whole thing. But I don't care. I'm alive, we're alive.

I really should let the Alpha Site know. They're not going to be happy if they have to undo all they've done. They'll get over it. It's good for them, builds character. I'll tell them in a bit, a few more minutes won't make a difference. I want to take a minute, have another drink, and enjoy my relief for a bit more.

Responsibility rears its ugly persistent head and I recap the whisky. It'll come out again as soon as SG-1 comes home. Gotta leave some for them.

I get to my feet feeling amazingly spry. Near death will do that to you. My hand strays out and caresses the eagle's head. Sorry about the false alarm, hon. You'll just have to wait a bit longer. But what's a few years when we'll have eternity? Don't worry, I'll be along, eventually. I just got a few hundred things to do down here first.

I leave my office and make my way back down to the control room. It's time to spread the news. I just hope to hell I remember how to dial that stupid thing.

~Fin~

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