MISSING SCENE for First Commandment

We were just returning from our second mission when I found out that Jonas Hanson was one of the newest members of the SGC. We'd seen better days. This was directly after the mission Colonel O'Neill came to refer as the "shishkabob-the-archaeologist luau," when Daniel nearly became a little too acquainted with local culinary customs. It wouldn't have been a problem if we'd realized a little earlier that the luau would have had Daniel as its main course. Vive la difference, as they say. We were tired, dirty and more than a little scratched up when we came through the 'Gate. Daniel was limping, supported by Teal'c as we made our way down the ramp. The look on the colonel's face mirrored my own inner doubts at the time about the viability of SG-1 as a team.

There was a group in the control room on our arrival, being given a tour of the facility as a part of their orientation of the new command. I barely spared them a second glance when we passed the entrance. Recruits were a common sight as the SGC's staff slowly grew over the months. I was trailing behind my teammates, helmet in hand, when I heard the last voice I ever expected to hear calling after me.

"Samantha!"

There was no mistaking him, and there was no way I could pretend I didn't hear him. Daniel was the only person on-base who called me "Sam." No one else called me by my formal name, except for the odd teasing from the colonel. My rank and title were common, or just the use of my surname. There was more to my recognition, though. I recognized the tone, the nuances of his voice. They grated on my nerves now just as much as they did the last time I saw him.

I turned to find him standing in the hallway a few feet away, looking crisp and handsome in his dress blues. His light brown hair was short, to the regulations and perfectly smoothed. His brown eyes were bright, clearly happy to see me. The smile he gave me was genuine, or as genuine as I could expect to get from my ex-fiancé.

"Jonas?" It was half-greeting, half question. I hadn't seen him since we parted ways in Washington, almost a year and a half ago. I think it was a month or two before I got word that Daniel had opened the Stargate. To be honest, I think half the reason I got so involved with the project was to escape thinking about Jonas, and what had happened between us. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought it was you. There's no mistaking that hair." His smile seemed to have edged up a notch. He held out his hand to me. "It's good to see you again, Samantha."

"Yeah." I figured shaking hands was a formal enough way to greet him. If he'd come at me wanting a hug, or God forbid, a kiss, I'd have decked him. I'm happy we're the same rank. I wouldn't want to be charged with assaulting a senior officer. "So you've been transferred here?"

"Just a few days ago, and don't look so disappointed," he said. He looked perfectly at ease as he eyed my field uniform with a bemused eye. "I'm the commander of SG-9, one of the new units. You?"

"SG-1, the unit's 2IC," I told him, feeling like we were showing off baseball cards. I just wanted to get out of there. Contrary to popular belief, I don't like resembling a forest floor. I found out later in the locker room that I had twigs stuck in my hair, and leafy bits dangling around my ears. "Well, good luck to you."

He seemed surprised by my less than friendly demeanor. I could see from the way his eyes immediately met my gaze that he was hurt at being brushed off. Tough. The last thing I wanted was to rekindle our relationship. Once was more than enough for me. He could apply all the charm and the fairytale romance he wanted until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn't change the fact that he was the kind of man who was simply unpleasant once the fantasy wore away.

Now, more than ever, I needed to keep my feet firmly in reality.

I somehow managed to avoid him for the next two weeks. I don't know if it was luck, or something else. My teammates were quick to catch the hint I didn't like the man, but none of them tried to broach the topic with me, even after they learned he was my ex. I guess that's one really good thing about teaming with three men. I certainly didn't expect Teal'c or the colonel to try, but Daniel made it clear he was there if I needed a friendly ear.

In the month before SG-9's final mission, I started to see more of Jonas in the halls. It was usually in passing, my team heading for the 'gate, his on the way back. We never did more than exchange nods or the odd pleasantries. The guys never let anything progress from there; the one time Jonas stopped a little too long to talk, I nearly laughed at the looks my teammates were sending his way. They seemed to gather around me like bodyguards, each having his own version of the "watch what you say or else" look I remember all too well from my teenaged years. Colonel O'Neill was gruff as he reminded us that we has somewhere to be, and we left Jonas with a bit of a perplexed look on his face.

I hardly noticed it when he was gone on SG-9's extended mission, but weeks later, it came to our attention that there was a problem. The team's iris code had come through hours before, but that was it. No communications accompanied the transmission, and it was our first sign that something was wrong off-planet. The team was working on a planet the Goa'uld had abandoned ages ago. General Hammond, I know, was hoping there would be something left behind that could help us in understanding Goa'uld technology. I'd seen some of the data and samples sent back, and they all looked promising. What possibly could have gone wrong?

SG-1 was sent to investigate. The code hinted at nefarious circumstances, half the reason the general was alarmed. While most teams over the course of the SGC had experienced some kind of problem during their missions, we'd been lucky so far to have relatively low casualty rates. No one had died since Chulak, thankfully, but this situation was promising to break that trend. We needed to know what was wrong.

I knew my teammates well enough to know that we held the same opinion about what had happened. The guys had finished gearing up when Teal'c gave it voice. Had the Goa'uld come back to that planet? It was within reason, after all. From what Teal'c had told us before, there was no reason to think Apophis had come to Earth because we were the original human homeworld. It was more of a case of him investigating addresses that were once under Ra's domain. The possibility existed that he had either never known the address, or had forgotten it even if he'd known. I wonder who had longer memories, elephants or Goa'uld?

Even if it wasn't the Goa'uld responsible for what happened, there were so many things that might have struck them. The locals might have turned on them, or a natural disaster of any perceived kind may have struck them down in the middle of their mission. But for all my speculation, I never expected to learn Jonas Hanson believed he was a god.

I still don't understand what happened. I was sarcastic with Daniel when I said that must have a thing for the lunatic fringe, but what Lieutenant Connor was telling us sounded unbelievable. Yes, Jonas was domineering at the best of times, and his ego was the stuff of legend. It was his way or the highway, something I eventually clued into before I woke up and gave him back his ring. Despite our history, what I was being told sounded so out of character, so far-fetched, that I didn't want to believe what we were being told.

And then I met him. To be completely honest, I didn't recognize him. This was not the man I'd once been in love with.

Harsh stubble covered cheeks blotched with sunburn, obscuring the features I used to know so well. His brows were drawn tight, marring his forehead. I wasn't sure if concern or worry over his so-called chosen people had placed the frown there, but what drew my attention and frightened me the most were his eyes. They were unnaturally bright, the brown burning from within. Mania, perhaps, but when the gaze focused intently on me, I could see certainty fixed firmly within them.

It also became clear fairly quickly that he was convinced, or perhaps deluded would be a better word, in his belief of his revealed godhood. There was no rhyme or reason in how this revelation occurred to him, though radiation exposure was the educated guess. We didn't really have time to understand. We needed to stop him and give the people back their world before Jonas destroyed them.

I wish that when we finally did stop him, we'd had a chance to understand. I'd seen glimpses of sanity amid the moments of delusion, which made me think that maybe he was still pulling a charade. I was sure there were ways to stop him, to make him see reason and get him back to Earth for help. I wanted to help him, but events moved too quickly. Before I could think properly, Jonas had fallen through the open wormhole.

In retrospect, I just wish we understood what had happened. Daniel did a lot of speculating on the matter while we and the natives worked at re-erecting the Stargate. What he found unbelievable was that Frakes, SG-9's late anthropologist, agreed with Jonas' initial orders about humoring the mistaken locals. Why would Frakes have allowed the belief in the team's mistaken divinity continue past the first day? Especially in light of the dangers the assumption could lead the team into? Like every other team, including ourselves, SG-9 had received the requisite lecture from Daniel about the treatment we would likely receive on arrival, and the assumption that the team in question were gods was right up there on the list. We were all instructed to make it clear that by definition we were not gods, and therefore not Goa'uld. In most cases, Daniel's theory was that this policy would win us more friends and potential allies.

"We'll never know why now," Daniel sighed unhappily, moments before we started pulling on the ropes connected to the fallen 'Gate. "Maybe Hanson threatened Frakes away from Connor. Or there was something about the situation that gave Frakes the mistaken impression that this was a good thing. Whatever that was, though, I really have no idea."

"Daniel, you're just beating yourself over the head with assumptions," I told him. I didn't want to think about the topic anymore at the moment, and the last thing I wanted to hear from him was more pondering about the why's and how's. "There's nothing we can do but chalk this mission up to collective learning experience and make sure it never happens again."

Thankfully, he was interrupted by the Colonel and Teal'c at separate ends of the ropes, calling in unison to begin pulling on the count of three. Intellectually, I know the Stargate is big. After all, it takes up two stories and can fit four people walking side-by-side at the same time. What this experience taught me was that the Stargate lying on the ground and being pulled upright by two dozen or more people using four long ropes at four separate points takes a very long time to get it upright. I think it took us half an hour before we had the alien device re-secured in its proper spot. This seemed to be like a lot of my research on the Stargate of late, turning theory into reality. I knew it was big and heavy, but never actually how big and heavy!

I was happy to head for home. The new orange pallor cast by the protective shield was beginning to get on my nerves due to its pure unnatural presence. I knew it would shade the locals from the damaging solar radiation, but I was pleased, if a little ashamed, to know that this was their world and not mine. The orange glow cast strange shadows, making skin tones seem lighter, even sickly. Daniel, for one, didn't benefit from the color, but the colonel really seemed to.

A part of me was worried about what the repercussion from this mission would be, particularly from Colonel O'Neill about the fact I'd disobeyed orders and let myself be captured. He was more concerned about getting us home than anything else, but at one point, once the Stargate was upright and Daniel about to dial us home, he did pull me aside. He seemed a little uncertain about how to voice his words, and since he had Jonas' Bible in his hands as he spoke, my stomach dropped for a moment in worry.

I didn't need to worry. The topic of my insubordination never came up, though I was a little surprised, to be honest. He seemed to be trying to reassure me that we'd done the right thing over the course of the mission, even if it had resulted in Jonas' death. He was fumbling in his explanation, making me smile, and after a false start or two, the colonel finally got his point across once we properly identified the sixth commandment.

You should not kill. How very ironic, given our line of work.

"Look, I'm no expert on this thing, but I generally remember one commandment," he'd started, a little gravely, brown eyes watching me carefully. He'd noted my smile at his confusion between the first and sixth commandments, but I'd taken it as someone who either hadn't looked at their basic catechism in awhile or just an attempt to put me at ease. "No matter what the reason, every time you break it you take one step closer to Hanson."

His words left me with a lot to think about, a confused moral dilemma swirling in my brain. I'd never really put much in these kinds of problems, preferring the dilemmas that could be solved using formulas and research. My mother had been the woman of morals in the family, making sure that my brother and I did the basic things required as kids. We said our prayers, did the nice things kids are supposed to do, and said our mumbled apologies when we'd gotten into fights. But the moment I entered into active duty with the Air Force, and particularly now with the SGC and our ventures into the great unknown, I knew myself to be in the immense moral grayness that made up the world.

In a sense, I'm glad that I'm here with Colonel O'Neill. Of us four, he had tread through these strange lands longer than Daniel and I put together, though I'm not sure what exactly to say about Teal'c. He came from a different world-view, and while I know his actions as ordered by Apophis weren't among the proudest in his life, he was able to make a quick distinction between what was right and wrong, and thus be able to act according to it.

Maybe that's where the colonel and Teal'c are of the same mind. I have no doubt that Teal'c, as Apophis' First Prime, had seen things that would leave me shaking in my boots. Things I would consider to be unspeakable horrors. Many of those things were things he'd done because his so-called god had ordered them. But in the same way, Colonel O'Neill had seen unspeakable things as Black Ops. I also have no doubt that many of those were the results of his own orders, from our own government for their obscure and very classified reasons.

How do you live with these things? Were we one day going to be required to do something morally distasteful, in the name of Earth's security? How would we handle it in the scheme of morality? Would we be able to live with it? And was this mission, resulting in the death of fellow SGC members, just the tip of the iceberg for missions down the road? I dreaded those possibilities now. The path my career had given me the shelter of a lab, or in a cockpit, miles above a target. Those were almost sanitized compared to the reality of conflict, and I would be trust directly into it. How would I fare?

But what Colonel O'Neill seemed to be offering was a personalized morality. A way to judge our actions in view of the orders we might have to carry out. If we were ordered to kill someone, maybe this would be a way to make the guilt we felt a little less. I assumed we'd feel guilt until our consciousness felt callused and numb. But until we took action and killed without orders, without reason outside of self-defense, would this give us means to live with our actions?

Jonas had killed who knows how many natives in the past several weeks, and he was responsible for killing one of his team members and almost killing a second one. A third died because of his negligence. Jonas was in the wrong, and regardless of whether he was sane or not at the time was not the point. With the very first death he'd ordered to uphold his conviction of godhood, he started down the slippery slope and become the man I'd barely recognized in the cavern.

Colonel O'Neill was the last person to come through the Stargate, preferring to let us go through first before he followed. It was a habit I'd noticed before, something that suggested a need to make sure his team was all right and safe as they came home. On the days PMS wanted to wreak havoc, I had the image of the colonel as a farmer standing at the corral watching his cattle enter safely. Today, though, he looked tired and ready to go home.

I knew that in the future, we'd have missions that would be a lot worse than this. Even at our worst, there was something comforting about the presence of my commanding officer watching up go through first to safety. Our missions are never guaranteed to be safe, and one day, disaster might strike in the most unpleasant and unforeseen manner possible. If I were alone, I know I would fall, but perhaps with my teammates, we'll have a chance to survive together.

Daniel is our hope that in the end, our path will reach the common goal. He's also there to guide us there. Teal'c is our silent sentinel, watching over us as we journey through these strange worlds. The Colonel is there to make sure we're all right, and that any pieces that fall off are carefully set back into place where they belong. With these men at my side, there isn't anything we can't possibly face.

© January 28, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

Author's Note: This is the last of Sam's Puzzles. Stay tuned next for a brief intermission, Progress Report, brought to you by Major General George Hammond. Many thanks to Jmas for her assistance in proofing and pointing out icky grammar-impaired passages. I would also like to thank Lost for a very insightful conversation into military procedure, and I hope I did her comments justice. Comments are always welcome!

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