Stargate Fic: 1991 (01/11)
I recently picked up the hard copy I printed of my first, and thus far only, Stargate fic. I wasn't quite sure why I felt like reading until I looked at the date it was completed: April 12, 2003. It has hardly felt like a year has passed by.
I haven't really written anything creative since "1991"... I don't think papers for school count! There have been a few plot bunnies burrowing through my head, but nothing has really resulted with the exception of another Sam and Jack story that needs a lot of polish and work.
Anyhoo, I just thought I'd post this on my LJ for its one year anniversary. The only things I've changed are the corrections to the uniform names - I got slammed by an Air Force guy for using Army terms for Air Force characters. What do you expect? I was an Army ROTC cadet at the time!
A few of you have read this, I know. And for those who might not have, I hope you enjoy it. And if you aren't a part of the Stargate fandom and do decide to give this a try, I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have. It's not a difficult story to follow, even if you've never really watched the show.
So, without further ado...
TITLE: 1991: Chapter 01
AUTHOR: Starbuck92
CATEGORY: Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure
PAIRINGS: Sam/Jack UST, Sam/Other (in the past)
SPOILERS: Nemesis, Small Victories
SEASON: 4
RATING: R
CONTENT WARNING: Language, minor character death, sexual situations
SUMMARY: Flying and friendship, love and loss - what was Sam Carter’s life like during the Persian Gulf War?
DISCLAIMER: The lovely characters of Stargate SG-1 do not belong to me, and I am making no money off this story. Please do not archive without permission.
Author's notes at the conclusion of story.
Please note: I began writing this story in late November of 2001, several months before the second war in the Persian Gulf erupted. Looking over this fic now, I thought it prudent to attach some kind of warning that this story heavily involves much description about the trials and tribulations soldiers experience during wartime because I know some people are uncomfortable reading about such things in times like these.
This is based on actual events that took place during the Persian Gulf War; however, the characters and situations that were written for them are purely fictional and are not based on any actual person(s).
Dedicated to the troops - their courage and bravery protects and strengthens us all. Godspeed.
* * *
One year. One woman. One life forever changed.
* * *
Five days.
Five days had crawled by since the three members of SG-1 had gated to P3X-234 after detonating the explosives aboard Thor’s ship, destroying the Replicators that had been poised to invade Earth. The majority of that time had been spent performing what had become routine daily tasks: gathering food, exploring the area surrounding the Stargate, and resting at the small camp they had constructed upon their arrival.
At dawn each day, an attempt was made to dial home in the hope that Stargate Command had finally set up the beta ‘gate. Each evening, as the sun dipped down below the horizon, disappointment settled in, all three knowing they had to endure yet another night on the unfamiliar world.
In the beginning, the beautiful weather, tranquility, and lack of angry natives made for a pleasant change, an unconventional vacation away from Earth. It may not have been the land of sky blue waters, Colonel Jack O’Neill had observed, but it was sweet nonetheless.
Unfortunately, the sweetness was short-lived.
As time passed, tension began to flare between O’Neill and his second-in-command, Major Samantha Carter. The frustration and monotony of being stuck on a remote planet light-years from home had been fraying their nerves, steadily mounting until it had come to an inevitable rupture the fifth night of their extended stay.
The team sat huddled close around the crackling campfire, sharing their evening meal of fruit in relative silence. After O’Neill had had his fill, he lay back on the soft grass, gazing up at the glittering stars above.
“Hey, Carter,” he called.
“Sir?”
“What are the odds of you being able to build something to get us off this rock?”
Irritation surged through Carter.
Throughout the course of the day, O’Neill had pestered her endlessly, insisting there must be some other way to return home. By midday, her patience had worn thin, and she fought to restrain herself from issuing a rash remark she’d later regret.
“Well, sir, as I’ve already mentioned, we don’t have anywhere near the materials required to build something as simple as a UAV. What makes you think we’d be able to build any kind of spacecraft to get home?”
Folding his arms behind his head, O’Neill grinned at her.
“Oh, I don’t know, Carter. You seem to be able to get us out of every scrape we get into. Thought you might have some ideas.”
She raised her eyes to meet Teal’c’s, noting the silent warning that O’Neill wasn’t in the best of moods. Carefully, she considered her reply, unwilling to allow the colonel an opportunity to pick a fight.
“No, sir. No ideas this time around.”
“Ah, that’s a shame. I guess our little wizard doesn’t have every magic trick in the book like we thought she did, huh, Teal’c?”
O’Neill turned, presenting Carter with a sardonic smile and waiting expectantly for her next remark, but the expression on her face quickly put an end to his foul mood.
The color had drained from the major’s face, leaving her ghostly pale as she sat staring at the colonel in shock. Before another word could be uttered, she quickly excused herself, fleeing from the camp.
Briskly walking through the winding path between the trees, Carter listened for any indication that she was being pursued by either of her companions. Fortunately, the crunching leaves underfoot and her harsh breathing were the only sounds that reached her ears. O’Neill and Teal’c had chosen to give her some space, leaving her alone.
She wandered without aim on the pathways, trying to clear her head. After a couple of hours, she returned to the quiet campsite, ignoring the curious looks from the colonel and bidding Teal’c a good night as she settled down to sleep.
As dawn broke on the sixth day, Carter found herself lying awake beneath the fading canopy of stars, thankful for the tranquility the early morning hours brought. All night she had mulled over her thoughts, repeatedly replaying the exchange between her commanding officer and herself.
Damn it, she hadn’t expected to react so strongly to the colonel’s words. It wasn’t the teasing. She handled that gracefully on a daily basis. It was the words, so casually spoken, that had wrenched her heart.
An old nickname she thought she’d never hear again.
Furiously rubbing suddenly tear-filled eyes, Carter stood and stalked over to the nearby Dial Home Device. The compulsion to return home to the SGC was stronger than ever, where she could easily lose herself within the mazes of tunnels, avoiding having to explain her abrupt departure the night before.
As she touched each of the symbols for Earth’s address on the device, the corresponding chevrons on the inner ring of the Stargate glowed.
Chevron five…
Chevron six…
“Come on!”
The seventh chevron remained unlit. Annoyance flooded through her as she kicked the base of the DHD.
“Now that’s not very nice.”
Spinning around, she found Colonel O’Neill standing at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a large tree trunk and watching her every move.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Carter. I was just coming to try dialing home, but I’m guessing it would have been pointless,” O’Neill explained as he gestured to the inactive Stargate.
Immediately, Carter jumped into military mode.
“Sir, the seventh chevron will not engage. The SGC must still be setting up the beta ‘gate back on Earth.”
“I can see that, Major. I don’t think you’d be kicking a poor, defenseless DHD if it had worked,” the colonel flippantly remarked.
If he was hoping to win a smile from her, he failed miserably. She merely stood before him, her eyes focused on the ground, her expression unreadable.
“Carter,” O’Neill called.
Unable to resist the voice of her commanding officer, she reluctantly raised her eyes.
“You want to tell me what’s up?”
The major smiled tightly, hoping her excuse would satisfy his curiosity.
“I’m fine, sir. Just a little frustrated.”
O’Neill grinned ruefully, his eyes twinkling roguishly.
“Hard to keep occupied on a deserted planet when you’re way smarter than the rest of the inhabitants?”
She remained silent, forcing O’Neill to take another approach with her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking a small rock on the ground.
“Look, Carter, I know the last few days have been a little rough between us,” he muttered.
“I know, sir,” she quickly responded, grateful that he was doing his best to make amends. Apologies weren’t easy for him.
“Would it help if I said I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass?”
Blinking in surprise at his bluntness, she searched his eyes, finding genuine sincerity behind his gaze. His honest apology ebbed away the tension, and after a brief moment, the initial astonishment at his unexpected request for forgiveness dissipated.
Giving him a small smile, she replied, “Apology accepted, sir.”
A broad grin spread O’Neill’s lips.
“Good, ‘cause Teal’c promised to make my life a living hell if I came back without you.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, Colonel,” she retorted, her smile growing wider.
They stood before the Stargate for a few moments, basking in the warmth of the rising sun and the presence of each other’s company until O’Neill nodded to one of the trails.
“Walk with me, Major.”
Without another word, the pair trundled off into the forest. The sunlight illuminated the familiar paths between the trees, bathing the plant life on the ground in a multitude of colors. Another beautiful day was breaking on P3X-234.
“It’s a nice way to spend our leave, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a blast,” he replied dryly, his lips twitching in amusement as he heard Carter chuckle.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sidelong glance he cast in her direction, instantly recognizing the expression. The slightly knitted eyebrows and set of his jaw were indicative of the look he typically reserved for moments in which he was debating whether or not to make note of something. There had been many times he’d given her that look just prior to asking about something scientific he didn’t understand.
Apparently, the desire to voice his thoughts won out.
“Carter, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Last night,” he began, but paused when he saw her flinch. After a few moments, he hesitantly continued.
“What did I say?”
Carter was quiet for several minutes, unsure of how to respond. The need to tell someone, anyone, about the feelings that were rising from the deepest recesses of her heart prodded her consciousness. Her analytical side insisted her past should remain buried, her secrets and memories belonging to her and her alone, but a long-forgotten ache had torn open once again, flowing as surely as the blood that coursed through her veins.
Glancing up, she was met by concern and a hint of curiosity in the colonel’s brown eyes. Over the last three years, she had learned to trust him implicitly. When he dropped his sarcastic mannerisms, he listened wholeheartedly to whatever she had to say, even when he couldn’t make sense of it.
Finally finding her voice, she quietly answered, “Something you said reminded me of someone I was very close to.”
“Anyone I know?”
“No, sir. He was an old friend of mine. We attended the Academy and flight school together.”
O’Neill nodded once, but remained silent, obviously expecting her to continue.
Taking a seat on a fallen log, she waited until he joined her before resuming.
“Sir, this is something I haven’t talked to anyone about. I’ve never even mentioned it to Daniel.”
His face registered his surprise at the admission. He was well aware of how easily she and Dr. Daniel Jackson, the team’s archaeologist and linguist, talked to each other about anything and everything.
“So… What does this have to do with?” he cautiously inquired.
“The Gulf,” Carter answered simply.
“Ah.”
His unenthusiastic response didn’t faze her. She knew that Colonel O’Neill had acquired some of his personal demons during the Persian Gulf War. The topic was a sensitive one, something not often spoken of. He had never questioned her about any of her experiences in the war, either, and she had never volunteered any information. She hadn’t been sure if he was even interested until now.
“Care to tell me about it?”
“Yes, sir. I would.”
* * *
Saturday, September 15, 1990
First Lieutenant Samantha Carter zipped up her flight jacket, shivering in the early evening breeze. The nights had rapidly changed from comfortably mild to unbearably frigid as the first stirrings of winter approached Utah’s Hill Air Force Base.
When she had first enrolled at the Air Force Academy in Colorado, the abrupt change of weather conditions had shocked her system. The endless string of tough classes, the demanding hours of physical exercises, the strenuous flight instruction - none of it compared to the bite of the cold air in the Rocky Mountains.
As luck would have it, her first assignment out of the Academy and subsequent two-year instruction in flight school had been Hill, where the weather seemed even more brutally cold than in Colorado Springs. It would be a cold day in hell when she finally grew to appreciate the low temperatures and constant snowfall.
Sighing impatiently, she checked her watch for the third time in the last five minutes.
Thompson was late again. Oh, he would pay.
Knowing him as well as she did, she’d bet good money he was still eating dinner at the commissary while she was freezing her ass off outside Hangar A waiting for him. How typical.
Shaking her head, Carter chuckled as she considered her long-time best friend and fellow aviator.
She had met First Lieutenant Joshua Thompson during her first year at the Academy, both of them eighteen years old, full of ambition, and yearning for an academic challenge. Despite having come from two very different backgrounds, Carter instantly found a kindred spirit in the hotshot cadet, their personalities and goals fitting together like a couple of jigsaw puzzle pieces.
Joshua Thompson was born and raised in Texas, where his father managed a small airfield outside of Austin. As a boy, he’d spent hours playing in the hangar bays with his younger brother David. Whether it was building model aircraft or watching pilots land and take off from the runways, airplanes had been at the center of the Thompson boys’ younger years.
Eventually, David had set his sights on politics and law when he grew up, but Joshua knew where his heart lay. His eyes had turned upward to the friendly skies, and he worked hard to receive a congressional nomination of consideration for the Academy. His parents were openly concerned with his decision to join the military, but Thompson felt a career in the Air Force would strengthen his chance for acceptance into NASA as an astronautical engineer someday.
His best friend’s childhood was a completely different story.
Samantha Carter had lived the life of a military brat, traveling around the world from air base to air base with her Air Force officer father, her mother, and her brother. After her mother died, Carter immersed herself in her studies, submerging her emotions under the complex theories and equations of science and mathematics to keep the pain at bay. Upon her high school graduation, she decided to attend the Academy, which turned out to be fairly easy with her father’s aid.
Jacob Carter had jumped at his daughter’s willingness to build a career in the military and immediately set her up for a nomination of consideration. But in fact, she had other ideas. Like Thompson, she joined the Air Force only in the hope of bolstering her chances to become a space shuttle pilot one day. The lifelong dream of becoming an astronaut took precedence over everything else in her life, and with each passing year she came closer and closer to attaining it.
As she pulled on her leather flight gloves, Carter smiled.
For years, Thompson had adamantly proclaimed she would soon be at the helm of his modified version of the shuttle, rocketing through space while he monitored her progress from Cape Canaveral. In response, she had pointedly reminded him how many late night study sessions she’d endured tutoring him before he mastered the laws of physics, telling him she’d be counting on his engineering expertise once she finally stepped on board his shuttle.
Tilting her head back to observe the sparkling stars far above, she fondly recalled the day she’d met Thompson.
It was her first day at the Academy and she had been sitting in Professor Monroe’s physics class when a cadet had rushed in the door, skidding to a stop as he searched for an empty seat in the full classroom. The entire class came to a standstill as everyone curiously turned to see who the latecomer was.
Evidently remembering Thompson from some previous meeting, Monroe had smiled wryly.
“Ah, Cadet Thompson! Glad you could finally join us! Please take a seat!”
He had skulked his way into the classroom, taking a seat beside her near the front of the class.
“Welcome to physics, Cadet. Please be sure to see me after class.”
With that said, Monroe had returned to writing on the chalkboard.
Carter’s attention deviated away from the professor after a few moments, her eyes furtively wandering to the young man seated by her side.
A furrowed forehead indicated her classmate was having a difficult time understanding the lesson, and he seemed to quickly lose interest. His focus rerouted itself to doodling in his well-worn notebook. Diligently sketching, he didn’t seem to take notice of her scrutiny as she monitored his artistic ability. Carter marveled at how effortlessly defined pictures began taking shape on the sheet of paper.
After class had ended, she waited for him in the hallway, suppressing a smile at the lecture on tardiness he was receiving from Professor Monroe. Suddenly, he bolted from the room, but before he could walk two steps out the door, she stopped him.
“Something tells me you really need to pass this class.”
Thompson halted and turned to look at her, blinking in recognition at the girl he’d sat next to. He seemed mesmerized by the sapphire blue eyes looking at him from beneath a fringe of neatly trimmed blonde bangs, completely captivating his attention. Realizing that he was staring, he removed his flight cap and ruffled his short, dark hair.
“Um, yeah. I want to be an astronautical engineer.”
Carter’s interest was caught by the mention of the word ‘astronautical.’ Perhaps this young man was on the same page she was.
“You’re a pretty good artist,” she complimented, nodding to his tattered notebook.
He remained silent, his brown eyes observing her suspiciously. Carter decided to cut right to the chase.
“Look, I want to make a deal with you. I’ll help you with your physics if you help me with a project I’m working on. Meet me at Mitchell Hall for dinner, and I’ll tell you more about it.”
Spinning around, she sprinted off to her next class, leaving him with a small smile on his face. It had been an offer he couldn’t refuse.
Just a few hours later, the pair was engrossed in a spirited conversation, trading ideas and joking around as if they’d known each other for years, a friendship sealed for life. In return for assisting him with his homework, Thompson had agreed to draw the schematics and blueprints for Carter’s ambitious project.
Speaking of which…
She turned to face her miniature Unmanned Aerial Vehicle.
To almost any other person, the craft would resemble a large radio-controlled airplane. Certainly no one would believe that this was a much smaller version of the full-sized UAVs the Air Force was currently designing. It was a remarkable innovation, measuring in at five feet in length with a four-foot wingspan, equipped with many of the bells and whistles of any full-scale UAV.
Pulling a panel open, she began fiddling with a couple of wires, gradually losing herself in her task. After only a few minutes, her gloved hands were gritty with oil and grease and streaks of the stuff marred her face. Concentration creased her brow as she finished tying off the wires. As she screwed the panel shut, the sound of a soft whistle broke through the attentiveness on her work.
From across the taxiway area, she spotted First Lieutenant Thompson and graced him with one of her contagious smiles.
Even in the darkness of the night, his brown eyes twinkled mirthfully as he took in the sight of her and the UAV. The lanky young man leaned over the fuselage of the tiny aircraft, smiling broadly as he ran a hand over the frame, admiring her handiwork.
“Shit, you haven’t got any artistic ability whatsoever, Wizard, but your other talents sure make up for it.”
His trademark chuckle rang quietly through the air as he caught sight of his friend’s shy smile. Even after seven years, Carter was still unaccustomed to the compliments he readily threw her way.
Settling down, Thompson dragged an abandoned crate close to the UAV and sat. From this vantage point, he resumed watching her work while she reflected on the little plane that had brought them together.
Throughout the course of their friendship, they had committed every spare moment to bringing this project to life. Thompson’s degree in astronautical engineering was pivotal. As a propulsion specialist, his mind was keen to analyzing matter flow through the bowels of the UAV. He would draw the schematics, precisely detailing the blueprints for his partner.
Carter’s innate knack for constructing things was the next phase. Scrounging around the base after completing her duties, she searched for scrapped airplane parts to build the UAV. To her advantage, she had earned the respect of many of the technicians that worked on their fighter jets, and she graciously accepted every piece of spare material offered to her.
Thus far, none of their previous test flights had been successful. Thompson would dutifully return to the drawing board while Carter reviewed the math, trying to determine what may have caused the little plane to stop flying.
Flying…
It was another reason Carter believed she and Thompson got along so well. Since their days in flight school, they had been nothing short of a couple of aces.
Thompson relied on the skills his father had taught him as a boy, taking comfort in the fact that he’d learned to fly a plane years before he’d finally learned to drive a car. All the years of practice paid off as he adeptly piloted every type of aircraft he could haul himself into.
Carter was something else.
Before flight training, the only flying skills she possessed came from piloting various radio-controlled aircraft from the safety of the ground in her youth. Her friends were astonished at how effortlessly she took control once she was in the sky. She was a natural, and the harder she pushed herself, the brighter she shined.
“Iraqi troops stormed some of the diplomatic missions going on in Kuwait City yesterday,” Thompson quietly stated, plucking Carter out of her ruminations.
Pausing for a moment, she set the screwdriver on to the concrete, avoiding his gaze as she nodded. The reports had flooded news networks across the country, leading her to believe something big was indeed brewing in the Middle East.
“A lot of our buddies from the Academy were called up to go to Saudi last month,” he continued. “They wouldn’t have been sent if something hadn’t been up.”
The information was nothing new. She’d received letters from a few of their former classmates the past couple of weeks, letting her know where they were stationed.
Thompson plundered ahead, knowing her well enough to see that she was listening even if she did appear to be ignoring him.
“I want to be over there, Sam. I’d volunteer in a heartbeat if given the chance. Working with planes here on the base is great work, but I want to see a little overseas action before I settle down for NASA, you know?”
Her straight back and rigid shoulders implied that she did not agree with his outlook, but she made no move to voice her disapproval.
From past experience, she had learned that Thompson relished his role as a flyboy. Carter had witnessed him executing treacherous maneuvers that could get him killed several times, but he always returned with a lopsided, self-assured smile even as their flight instructors grilled him with lectures and warnings of carelessness.
Brains and a large dose of bravado sometimes made a dangerous combination, and she feared one day her friend’s headstrong attitude would be the death of him.
Thompson remained silent when she didn’t reply to any of his comments. Sighing, he stood and proceeded to recheck the tail end of the UAV, trying to look busy.
Carter closed her eyes in relief.
For weeks, he had prattled on about the events unfolding in the Persian Gulf, excitement evident in his face every time something new developed.
Quite frankly, she had grown tired of all the talk of impending war and chose to block it out whenever possible. Gone were the times she and Thompson would spend discussing an endless variety of topics. Carter considered it a great stroke of luck if they managed a conversation that excluded any reference to the turmoil hanging over the Middle East.
The United States was steadily becoming more involved, but until they were called…
Behind her, Thompson cleared his throat uncomfortably. He obviously sensed her disapproval of his opinions on some level, but thus far he’d carefully evaded confronting her on the issue. Any further discussion of the subject was put on hold as they both refocused their attention on their project.
She stepped away from the UAV, observing it with a critical eye.
“I’ve made some modifications from our last test flight in May. The preflight check is complete, so she should be ready to fly.”
Nodding, he grabbed hold of a pair of wires and hooked them from the launch pad to the radio control Carter held in her hands. As he fitted the wires in their appropriate sockets, he stole a glance at her.
“Think it’ll work this time?”
“Time to find out,” she replied.
Backing a safe distance away, the pair of lieutenants stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes fixed on the UAV. A switch was flipped, and the small propeller blade at the end of the nose immediately sprung to life. The tension between them seemed to lift away as they exchanged a small smile, and Carter commenced her NASA-like countdown, eager as a child.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6… Ignition sequence start.”
Another switch was flipped, and the whirring sound of the gears spinning faster resonated through the quiet evening air. The excitement radiating from Thompson became even more palpable as he fidgeted beside her, practically bouncing with energy.
“3, 2, 1!”
The last switch turned over, and the UAV rocketed from its launch pad into the night sky. Thompson whooped loudly as the little plane took flight, grabbed hold of his friend around the waist, and spun her around in delight. Carter fought to free herself from the jubilant Thompson, anxious to see how the UAV was doing.
“Josh, let go! I have to take control of the UAV!”
“Sorry! Sorry!”
Instantly, her feet were back on solid ground and her eyes returned to the sky, searching for some sign of their aircraft. After a couple of minutes of scanning, a flash of light drew her attention as the UAV entered a dizzying spiral.
“Oh, this is not good,” she whispered.
Another colorful wave of sparks showered down to the ground as the UAV continued it’s rapid descent to the airfield below. The two pilots watched in horror as the plane smashed into the concrete, busting into pieces.
Cursing under his breath, Thompson ran at full speed to the crash site with Carter close on his heels. A section of the starboard wing had caught fire, and Thompson immediately began stamping down on it with his booted feet to extinguish it. Frustration surged through Carter as she took in the sight.
“God, why won’t you work?” she exclaimed, kicking at the UAV’s shattered fuselage.
Thompson shot her a disapproving frown as he examined the wreckage.
“Your ass must be sore from all the kicking you give it,” he chided.
A puzzled look crossed her face.
“Every time this bird doesn’t fly, you bang your head against the wall trying to figure out what’s wrong with it,” he clarified.
The confusion quickly faded as the irritation flooded through her once again.
“We’ve been working on this project for years, Josh! This is our third test flight, and it was another failure. I don’t understand what’s wrong!”
A sharp tug on her sleeve hauled her thoughts away from the decimated UAV and to her friend’s face.
“Sam, we have been working on this for a long time. I know that. But no one has ever built a UAV this small before! Hell, the Air Force is still trying to get the full-sized ones up and running!”
His voice dropped down to a whisper, his fingers squeezing her upper arm reassuringly.
“It’s going to take some time before we get it right.”
Placated, Carter leveled her eyes with his, expelling a deep breath and nodding in agreement. Relinquishing the gentle grip on her arm, Thompson knelt by the UAV, resuming to poke through the busted pieces.
She stood silent watching him for a moment, marveling at his uncanny ability to mollify the bouts of impatience that riddled through her from time to time. All it took was one fleeting glance from his intense brown eyes or the quiet, comforting tone of his voice murmuring in her ear, and Thompson could immediately allay her frustration or anxiousness.
“Would you quit standing there and help me find anything we can salvage?”
The sound of his pleasantly annoyed voice shook her from her thoughts, her eyes drifting back to the airplane.
There wasn’t much to find.
The UAV had swiftly lost altitude after the short-circuit and had plummeted to the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The fuselage had splintered into pieces, one wing was burnt to a crisp, and the other had cracked laterally across the crucial aileron. Only the tail seemed to survive the brunt of the crash.
Carter knelt by it, already taking into consideration the possible miscalculations that could have brought the plane down. Biting her lip, she absently rubbed at the miniature paintings of their own real call signs, a wizard’s wand with shooting stars and a flaming knight’s sword.
“The sparks we saw indicate a short-circuit. We’ve always secured the UAV in a storage shed to ensure that the wiring remained unsaturated.”
Thompson nodded in agreement, the gears in his own head turning just as quickly as hers.
“Sam, the sheds may keep out the wet weather, but some of the interiors are still sensitive to the extreme temperatures outside.”
“Right!” she exclaimed, connecting the pieces together.
“The temperatures have been below average for several weeks now, something we previously didn’t have to be concerned about. The past few nights, the temperature dropped to well below freezing. If the UAV became subject to those extreme temperatures due to inadequate storage, it’s likely some of the internal wiring froze.”
“And those frozen wires sparked when we turned it on, causing the short-circuit!” Josh completed her theory before she could finish, easily keeping up with her fast-paced thinking.
“We need to find a better equipped hiding place for our next model,” Carter declared.
Having reached an agreement, they returned to inspecting the pieces, working silently for a few minutes.
Thompson picked up one of the engine components, turning it over carefully between his fingers. His voice sounded thoughtful, almost absentminded, as he placed the piece in his pocket.
“Didn’t get much altitude when we launched…”
His companion hummed in accord as she picked through the remains of the UAV, focused on one of the wings.
“Stronger propellant would give the UAV a bigger boost into the air… Some kind of rocket propellant like they use for the shuttle over at the Cape…”
The cracked wing clattered to the ground, slipping from her immobile fingers. Thompson was an expert when it came to pushing things to go faster and higher, but this…
“Rocket propellant? Do you want to blow us up?” she asked incredulously.
“No, but --”
“Lieutenant Carter! Lieutenant Thompson!”
The pair immediately snapped to attention, the angry sound of their commanding officer’s voice halting any further quarreling. Carter stood completely still as Major Brayden Wells marched to the crash site, his face red with fury. She held her breath as their CO unhappily observed the mess on the ground.
The minutes seemed to slowly tick by, and all was silent except the sound of her rapidly pounding heart. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Thompson’s fingers twitching, and her eyes widened in alarm.
‘Don’t start fidgeting now, Lieutenant!’ she thought.
After what seemed like an eternity, Major Wells returned to stand in front of them, scowling in disapproval.
“Lieutenant Thompson.”
“Yes, sir?” came the automatic reply.
“You’re dismissed. I want to have a word with Lieutenant Carter.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Without question, Thompson saluted his superior officer and quickly fled the scene.
The cold weather burned Carter’s cheeks as she waited for the inevitable punishment, yet she did not flinch under the major’s glare. Years of training allowed her to hold her own against him, and she stared unblinkingly into his eyes, prepared for whatever reprimand he would be issuing her.
Appearing satisfied at the strength of her stamina, Wells backed down a bit.
“Lieutenant, there are important matters transpiring around the world right now. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with such…toys.”
He poked the wreckage of the UAV with one gleaming, black combat boot, emphasizing his disgust. Returning his attention to his subordinate, his tone softened marginally.
“You’ve got a good brain in that head of yours and flying skills that surpass almost every other pilot on this base. I know talent when I see it. Use that talent for something worth your while.”
Glancing down at the broken UAV, he added, “Clean up this mess and return to your quarters, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir!”
She crisply saluted him and sighed in relief as he walked away.
It was none too often when she was spared from the major’s stern punishments, especially after finding her working on the one project he despised the most. Wells had a tendency to bear down hard on his squadron, demanding the utmost dedication to being the best officers and fighter pilots the Air Force had to offer. In his rulebook, there was no room for anything but.
It was no surprise he singled out Carter much of the time. While the other members of the squadron leisurely logged a ridiculous number of hours during their days off, she took great liberty in meddling with all sorts of projects in her spare time, partly out of her insatiable curiosity, partly out of her youthful need to test her commanding officer’s limits.
As she knelt to pick up the smashed pieces of the UAV, she glared at the retreating figure of Major Wells.
“Go suck a lemon, sir,” Carter muttered under her breath.
One day, she knew her projects would successfully aid the Air Force. Then she would gain the satisfaction of proving to the major that her “toys” had been well worth the time and effort.
Continued in Chapter 2.
I haven't really written anything creative since "1991"... I don't think papers for school count! There have been a few plot bunnies burrowing through my head, but nothing has really resulted with the exception of another Sam and Jack story that needs a lot of polish and work.
Anyhoo, I just thought I'd post this on my LJ for its one year anniversary. The only things I've changed are the corrections to the uniform names - I got slammed by an Air Force guy for using Army terms for Air Force characters. What do you expect? I was an Army ROTC cadet at the time!
A few of you have read this, I know. And for those who might not have, I hope you enjoy it. And if you aren't a part of the Stargate fandom and do decide to give this a try, I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have. It's not a difficult story to follow, even if you've never really watched the show.
So, without further ado...
TITLE: 1991: Chapter 01
AUTHOR: Starbuck92
CATEGORY: Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure
PAIRINGS: Sam/Jack UST, Sam/Other (in the past)
SPOILERS: Nemesis, Small Victories
SEASON: 4
RATING: R
CONTENT WARNING: Language, minor character death, sexual situations
SUMMARY: Flying and friendship, love and loss - what was Sam Carter’s life like during the Persian Gulf War?
DISCLAIMER: The lovely characters of Stargate SG-1 do not belong to me, and I am making no money off this story. Please do not archive without permission.
Author's notes at the conclusion of story.
Please note: I began writing this story in late November of 2001, several months before the second war in the Persian Gulf erupted. Looking over this fic now, I thought it prudent to attach some kind of warning that this story heavily involves much description about the trials and tribulations soldiers experience during wartime because I know some people are uncomfortable reading about such things in times like these.
This is based on actual events that took place during the Persian Gulf War; however, the characters and situations that were written for them are purely fictional and are not based on any actual person(s).
Dedicated to the troops - their courage and bravery protects and strengthens us all. Godspeed.
* * *
One year. One woman. One life forever changed.
* * *
Five days.
Five days had crawled by since the three members of SG-1 had gated to P3X-234 after detonating the explosives aboard Thor’s ship, destroying the Replicators that had been poised to invade Earth. The majority of that time had been spent performing what had become routine daily tasks: gathering food, exploring the area surrounding the Stargate, and resting at the small camp they had constructed upon their arrival.
At dawn each day, an attempt was made to dial home in the hope that Stargate Command had finally set up the beta ‘gate. Each evening, as the sun dipped down below the horizon, disappointment settled in, all three knowing they had to endure yet another night on the unfamiliar world.
In the beginning, the beautiful weather, tranquility, and lack of angry natives made for a pleasant change, an unconventional vacation away from Earth. It may not have been the land of sky blue waters, Colonel Jack O’Neill had observed, but it was sweet nonetheless.
Unfortunately, the sweetness was short-lived.
As time passed, tension began to flare between O’Neill and his second-in-command, Major Samantha Carter. The frustration and monotony of being stuck on a remote planet light-years from home had been fraying their nerves, steadily mounting until it had come to an inevitable rupture the fifth night of their extended stay.
The team sat huddled close around the crackling campfire, sharing their evening meal of fruit in relative silence. After O’Neill had had his fill, he lay back on the soft grass, gazing up at the glittering stars above.
“Hey, Carter,” he called.
“Sir?”
“What are the odds of you being able to build something to get us off this rock?”
Irritation surged through Carter.
Throughout the course of the day, O’Neill had pestered her endlessly, insisting there must be some other way to return home. By midday, her patience had worn thin, and she fought to restrain herself from issuing a rash remark she’d later regret.
“Well, sir, as I’ve already mentioned, we don’t have anywhere near the materials required to build something as simple as a UAV. What makes you think we’d be able to build any kind of spacecraft to get home?”
Folding his arms behind his head, O’Neill grinned at her.
“Oh, I don’t know, Carter. You seem to be able to get us out of every scrape we get into. Thought you might have some ideas.”
She raised her eyes to meet Teal’c’s, noting the silent warning that O’Neill wasn’t in the best of moods. Carefully, she considered her reply, unwilling to allow the colonel an opportunity to pick a fight.
“No, sir. No ideas this time around.”
“Ah, that’s a shame. I guess our little wizard doesn’t have every magic trick in the book like we thought she did, huh, Teal’c?”
O’Neill turned, presenting Carter with a sardonic smile and waiting expectantly for her next remark, but the expression on her face quickly put an end to his foul mood.
The color had drained from the major’s face, leaving her ghostly pale as she sat staring at the colonel in shock. Before another word could be uttered, she quickly excused herself, fleeing from the camp.
Briskly walking through the winding path between the trees, Carter listened for any indication that she was being pursued by either of her companions. Fortunately, the crunching leaves underfoot and her harsh breathing were the only sounds that reached her ears. O’Neill and Teal’c had chosen to give her some space, leaving her alone.
She wandered without aim on the pathways, trying to clear her head. After a couple of hours, she returned to the quiet campsite, ignoring the curious looks from the colonel and bidding Teal’c a good night as she settled down to sleep.
As dawn broke on the sixth day, Carter found herself lying awake beneath the fading canopy of stars, thankful for the tranquility the early morning hours brought. All night she had mulled over her thoughts, repeatedly replaying the exchange between her commanding officer and herself.
Damn it, she hadn’t expected to react so strongly to the colonel’s words. It wasn’t the teasing. She handled that gracefully on a daily basis. It was the words, so casually spoken, that had wrenched her heart.
An old nickname she thought she’d never hear again.
Furiously rubbing suddenly tear-filled eyes, Carter stood and stalked over to the nearby Dial Home Device. The compulsion to return home to the SGC was stronger than ever, where she could easily lose herself within the mazes of tunnels, avoiding having to explain her abrupt departure the night before.
As she touched each of the symbols for Earth’s address on the device, the corresponding chevrons on the inner ring of the Stargate glowed.
Chevron five…
Chevron six…
“Come on!”
The seventh chevron remained unlit. Annoyance flooded through her as she kicked the base of the DHD.
“Now that’s not very nice.”
Spinning around, she found Colonel O’Neill standing at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a large tree trunk and watching her every move.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Carter. I was just coming to try dialing home, but I’m guessing it would have been pointless,” O’Neill explained as he gestured to the inactive Stargate.
Immediately, Carter jumped into military mode.
“Sir, the seventh chevron will not engage. The SGC must still be setting up the beta ‘gate back on Earth.”
“I can see that, Major. I don’t think you’d be kicking a poor, defenseless DHD if it had worked,” the colonel flippantly remarked.
If he was hoping to win a smile from her, he failed miserably. She merely stood before him, her eyes focused on the ground, her expression unreadable.
“Carter,” O’Neill called.
Unable to resist the voice of her commanding officer, she reluctantly raised her eyes.
“You want to tell me what’s up?”
The major smiled tightly, hoping her excuse would satisfy his curiosity.
“I’m fine, sir. Just a little frustrated.”
O’Neill grinned ruefully, his eyes twinkling roguishly.
“Hard to keep occupied on a deserted planet when you’re way smarter than the rest of the inhabitants?”
She remained silent, forcing O’Neill to take another approach with her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking a small rock on the ground.
“Look, Carter, I know the last few days have been a little rough between us,” he muttered.
“I know, sir,” she quickly responded, grateful that he was doing his best to make amends. Apologies weren’t easy for him.
“Would it help if I said I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass?”
Blinking in surprise at his bluntness, she searched his eyes, finding genuine sincerity behind his gaze. His honest apology ebbed away the tension, and after a brief moment, the initial astonishment at his unexpected request for forgiveness dissipated.
Giving him a small smile, she replied, “Apology accepted, sir.”
A broad grin spread O’Neill’s lips.
“Good, ‘cause Teal’c promised to make my life a living hell if I came back without you.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, Colonel,” she retorted, her smile growing wider.
They stood before the Stargate for a few moments, basking in the warmth of the rising sun and the presence of each other’s company until O’Neill nodded to one of the trails.
“Walk with me, Major.”
Without another word, the pair trundled off into the forest. The sunlight illuminated the familiar paths between the trees, bathing the plant life on the ground in a multitude of colors. Another beautiful day was breaking on P3X-234.
“It’s a nice way to spend our leave, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a blast,” he replied dryly, his lips twitching in amusement as he heard Carter chuckle.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sidelong glance he cast in her direction, instantly recognizing the expression. The slightly knitted eyebrows and set of his jaw were indicative of the look he typically reserved for moments in which he was debating whether or not to make note of something. There had been many times he’d given her that look just prior to asking about something scientific he didn’t understand.
Apparently, the desire to voice his thoughts won out.
“Carter, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Last night,” he began, but paused when he saw her flinch. After a few moments, he hesitantly continued.
“What did I say?”
Carter was quiet for several minutes, unsure of how to respond. The need to tell someone, anyone, about the feelings that were rising from the deepest recesses of her heart prodded her consciousness. Her analytical side insisted her past should remain buried, her secrets and memories belonging to her and her alone, but a long-forgotten ache had torn open once again, flowing as surely as the blood that coursed through her veins.
Glancing up, she was met by concern and a hint of curiosity in the colonel’s brown eyes. Over the last three years, she had learned to trust him implicitly. When he dropped his sarcastic mannerisms, he listened wholeheartedly to whatever she had to say, even when he couldn’t make sense of it.
Finally finding her voice, she quietly answered, “Something you said reminded me of someone I was very close to.”
“Anyone I know?”
“No, sir. He was an old friend of mine. We attended the Academy and flight school together.”
O’Neill nodded once, but remained silent, obviously expecting her to continue.
Taking a seat on a fallen log, she waited until he joined her before resuming.
“Sir, this is something I haven’t talked to anyone about. I’ve never even mentioned it to Daniel.”
His face registered his surprise at the admission. He was well aware of how easily she and Dr. Daniel Jackson, the team’s archaeologist and linguist, talked to each other about anything and everything.
“So… What does this have to do with?” he cautiously inquired.
“The Gulf,” Carter answered simply.
“Ah.”
His unenthusiastic response didn’t faze her. She knew that Colonel O’Neill had acquired some of his personal demons during the Persian Gulf War. The topic was a sensitive one, something not often spoken of. He had never questioned her about any of her experiences in the war, either, and she had never volunteered any information. She hadn’t been sure if he was even interested until now.
“Care to tell me about it?”
“Yes, sir. I would.”
* * *
Saturday, September 15, 1990
First Lieutenant Samantha Carter zipped up her flight jacket, shivering in the early evening breeze. The nights had rapidly changed from comfortably mild to unbearably frigid as the first stirrings of winter approached Utah’s Hill Air Force Base.
When she had first enrolled at the Air Force Academy in Colorado, the abrupt change of weather conditions had shocked her system. The endless string of tough classes, the demanding hours of physical exercises, the strenuous flight instruction - none of it compared to the bite of the cold air in the Rocky Mountains.
As luck would have it, her first assignment out of the Academy and subsequent two-year instruction in flight school had been Hill, where the weather seemed even more brutally cold than in Colorado Springs. It would be a cold day in hell when she finally grew to appreciate the low temperatures and constant snowfall.
Sighing impatiently, she checked her watch for the third time in the last five minutes.
Thompson was late again. Oh, he would pay.
Knowing him as well as she did, she’d bet good money he was still eating dinner at the commissary while she was freezing her ass off outside Hangar A waiting for him. How typical.
Shaking her head, Carter chuckled as she considered her long-time best friend and fellow aviator.
She had met First Lieutenant Joshua Thompson during her first year at the Academy, both of them eighteen years old, full of ambition, and yearning for an academic challenge. Despite having come from two very different backgrounds, Carter instantly found a kindred spirit in the hotshot cadet, their personalities and goals fitting together like a couple of jigsaw puzzle pieces.
Joshua Thompson was born and raised in Texas, where his father managed a small airfield outside of Austin. As a boy, he’d spent hours playing in the hangar bays with his younger brother David. Whether it was building model aircraft or watching pilots land and take off from the runways, airplanes had been at the center of the Thompson boys’ younger years.
Eventually, David had set his sights on politics and law when he grew up, but Joshua knew where his heart lay. His eyes had turned upward to the friendly skies, and he worked hard to receive a congressional nomination of consideration for the Academy. His parents were openly concerned with his decision to join the military, but Thompson felt a career in the Air Force would strengthen his chance for acceptance into NASA as an astronautical engineer someday.
His best friend’s childhood was a completely different story.
Samantha Carter had lived the life of a military brat, traveling around the world from air base to air base with her Air Force officer father, her mother, and her brother. After her mother died, Carter immersed herself in her studies, submerging her emotions under the complex theories and equations of science and mathematics to keep the pain at bay. Upon her high school graduation, she decided to attend the Academy, which turned out to be fairly easy with her father’s aid.
Jacob Carter had jumped at his daughter’s willingness to build a career in the military and immediately set her up for a nomination of consideration. But in fact, she had other ideas. Like Thompson, she joined the Air Force only in the hope of bolstering her chances to become a space shuttle pilot one day. The lifelong dream of becoming an astronaut took precedence over everything else in her life, and with each passing year she came closer and closer to attaining it.
As she pulled on her leather flight gloves, Carter smiled.
For years, Thompson had adamantly proclaimed she would soon be at the helm of his modified version of the shuttle, rocketing through space while he monitored her progress from Cape Canaveral. In response, she had pointedly reminded him how many late night study sessions she’d endured tutoring him before he mastered the laws of physics, telling him she’d be counting on his engineering expertise once she finally stepped on board his shuttle.
Tilting her head back to observe the sparkling stars far above, she fondly recalled the day she’d met Thompson.
It was her first day at the Academy and she had been sitting in Professor Monroe’s physics class when a cadet had rushed in the door, skidding to a stop as he searched for an empty seat in the full classroom. The entire class came to a standstill as everyone curiously turned to see who the latecomer was.
Evidently remembering Thompson from some previous meeting, Monroe had smiled wryly.
“Ah, Cadet Thompson! Glad you could finally join us! Please take a seat!”
He had skulked his way into the classroom, taking a seat beside her near the front of the class.
“Welcome to physics, Cadet. Please be sure to see me after class.”
With that said, Monroe had returned to writing on the chalkboard.
Carter’s attention deviated away from the professor after a few moments, her eyes furtively wandering to the young man seated by her side.
A furrowed forehead indicated her classmate was having a difficult time understanding the lesson, and he seemed to quickly lose interest. His focus rerouted itself to doodling in his well-worn notebook. Diligently sketching, he didn’t seem to take notice of her scrutiny as she monitored his artistic ability. Carter marveled at how effortlessly defined pictures began taking shape on the sheet of paper.
After class had ended, she waited for him in the hallway, suppressing a smile at the lecture on tardiness he was receiving from Professor Monroe. Suddenly, he bolted from the room, but before he could walk two steps out the door, she stopped him.
“Something tells me you really need to pass this class.”
Thompson halted and turned to look at her, blinking in recognition at the girl he’d sat next to. He seemed mesmerized by the sapphire blue eyes looking at him from beneath a fringe of neatly trimmed blonde bangs, completely captivating his attention. Realizing that he was staring, he removed his flight cap and ruffled his short, dark hair.
“Um, yeah. I want to be an astronautical engineer.”
Carter’s interest was caught by the mention of the word ‘astronautical.’ Perhaps this young man was on the same page she was.
“You’re a pretty good artist,” she complimented, nodding to his tattered notebook.
He remained silent, his brown eyes observing her suspiciously. Carter decided to cut right to the chase.
“Look, I want to make a deal with you. I’ll help you with your physics if you help me with a project I’m working on. Meet me at Mitchell Hall for dinner, and I’ll tell you more about it.”
Spinning around, she sprinted off to her next class, leaving him with a small smile on his face. It had been an offer he couldn’t refuse.
Just a few hours later, the pair was engrossed in a spirited conversation, trading ideas and joking around as if they’d known each other for years, a friendship sealed for life. In return for assisting him with his homework, Thompson had agreed to draw the schematics and blueprints for Carter’s ambitious project.
Speaking of which…
She turned to face her miniature Unmanned Aerial Vehicle.
To almost any other person, the craft would resemble a large radio-controlled airplane. Certainly no one would believe that this was a much smaller version of the full-sized UAVs the Air Force was currently designing. It was a remarkable innovation, measuring in at five feet in length with a four-foot wingspan, equipped with many of the bells and whistles of any full-scale UAV.
Pulling a panel open, she began fiddling with a couple of wires, gradually losing herself in her task. After only a few minutes, her gloved hands were gritty with oil and grease and streaks of the stuff marred her face. Concentration creased her brow as she finished tying off the wires. As she screwed the panel shut, the sound of a soft whistle broke through the attentiveness on her work.
From across the taxiway area, she spotted First Lieutenant Thompson and graced him with one of her contagious smiles.
Even in the darkness of the night, his brown eyes twinkled mirthfully as he took in the sight of her and the UAV. The lanky young man leaned over the fuselage of the tiny aircraft, smiling broadly as he ran a hand over the frame, admiring her handiwork.
“Shit, you haven’t got any artistic ability whatsoever, Wizard, but your other talents sure make up for it.”
His trademark chuckle rang quietly through the air as he caught sight of his friend’s shy smile. Even after seven years, Carter was still unaccustomed to the compliments he readily threw her way.
Settling down, Thompson dragged an abandoned crate close to the UAV and sat. From this vantage point, he resumed watching her work while she reflected on the little plane that had brought them together.
Throughout the course of their friendship, they had committed every spare moment to bringing this project to life. Thompson’s degree in astronautical engineering was pivotal. As a propulsion specialist, his mind was keen to analyzing matter flow through the bowels of the UAV. He would draw the schematics, precisely detailing the blueprints for his partner.
Carter’s innate knack for constructing things was the next phase. Scrounging around the base after completing her duties, she searched for scrapped airplane parts to build the UAV. To her advantage, she had earned the respect of many of the technicians that worked on their fighter jets, and she graciously accepted every piece of spare material offered to her.
Thus far, none of their previous test flights had been successful. Thompson would dutifully return to the drawing board while Carter reviewed the math, trying to determine what may have caused the little plane to stop flying.
Flying…
It was another reason Carter believed she and Thompson got along so well. Since their days in flight school, they had been nothing short of a couple of aces.
Thompson relied on the skills his father had taught him as a boy, taking comfort in the fact that he’d learned to fly a plane years before he’d finally learned to drive a car. All the years of practice paid off as he adeptly piloted every type of aircraft he could haul himself into.
Carter was something else.
Before flight training, the only flying skills she possessed came from piloting various radio-controlled aircraft from the safety of the ground in her youth. Her friends were astonished at how effortlessly she took control once she was in the sky. She was a natural, and the harder she pushed herself, the brighter she shined.
“Iraqi troops stormed some of the diplomatic missions going on in Kuwait City yesterday,” Thompson quietly stated, plucking Carter out of her ruminations.
Pausing for a moment, she set the screwdriver on to the concrete, avoiding his gaze as she nodded. The reports had flooded news networks across the country, leading her to believe something big was indeed brewing in the Middle East.
“A lot of our buddies from the Academy were called up to go to Saudi last month,” he continued. “They wouldn’t have been sent if something hadn’t been up.”
The information was nothing new. She’d received letters from a few of their former classmates the past couple of weeks, letting her know where they were stationed.
Thompson plundered ahead, knowing her well enough to see that she was listening even if she did appear to be ignoring him.
“I want to be over there, Sam. I’d volunteer in a heartbeat if given the chance. Working with planes here on the base is great work, but I want to see a little overseas action before I settle down for NASA, you know?”
Her straight back and rigid shoulders implied that she did not agree with his outlook, but she made no move to voice her disapproval.
From past experience, she had learned that Thompson relished his role as a flyboy. Carter had witnessed him executing treacherous maneuvers that could get him killed several times, but he always returned with a lopsided, self-assured smile even as their flight instructors grilled him with lectures and warnings of carelessness.
Brains and a large dose of bravado sometimes made a dangerous combination, and she feared one day her friend’s headstrong attitude would be the death of him.
Thompson remained silent when she didn’t reply to any of his comments. Sighing, he stood and proceeded to recheck the tail end of the UAV, trying to look busy.
Carter closed her eyes in relief.
For weeks, he had prattled on about the events unfolding in the Persian Gulf, excitement evident in his face every time something new developed.
Quite frankly, she had grown tired of all the talk of impending war and chose to block it out whenever possible. Gone were the times she and Thompson would spend discussing an endless variety of topics. Carter considered it a great stroke of luck if they managed a conversation that excluded any reference to the turmoil hanging over the Middle East.
The United States was steadily becoming more involved, but until they were called…
Behind her, Thompson cleared his throat uncomfortably. He obviously sensed her disapproval of his opinions on some level, but thus far he’d carefully evaded confronting her on the issue. Any further discussion of the subject was put on hold as they both refocused their attention on their project.
She stepped away from the UAV, observing it with a critical eye.
“I’ve made some modifications from our last test flight in May. The preflight check is complete, so she should be ready to fly.”
Nodding, he grabbed hold of a pair of wires and hooked them from the launch pad to the radio control Carter held in her hands. As he fitted the wires in their appropriate sockets, he stole a glance at her.
“Think it’ll work this time?”
“Time to find out,” she replied.
Backing a safe distance away, the pair of lieutenants stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes fixed on the UAV. A switch was flipped, and the small propeller blade at the end of the nose immediately sprung to life. The tension between them seemed to lift away as they exchanged a small smile, and Carter commenced her NASA-like countdown, eager as a child.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6… Ignition sequence start.”
Another switch was flipped, and the whirring sound of the gears spinning faster resonated through the quiet evening air. The excitement radiating from Thompson became even more palpable as he fidgeted beside her, practically bouncing with energy.
“3, 2, 1!”
The last switch turned over, and the UAV rocketed from its launch pad into the night sky. Thompson whooped loudly as the little plane took flight, grabbed hold of his friend around the waist, and spun her around in delight. Carter fought to free herself from the jubilant Thompson, anxious to see how the UAV was doing.
“Josh, let go! I have to take control of the UAV!”
“Sorry! Sorry!”
Instantly, her feet were back on solid ground and her eyes returned to the sky, searching for some sign of their aircraft. After a couple of minutes of scanning, a flash of light drew her attention as the UAV entered a dizzying spiral.
“Oh, this is not good,” she whispered.
Another colorful wave of sparks showered down to the ground as the UAV continued it’s rapid descent to the airfield below. The two pilots watched in horror as the plane smashed into the concrete, busting into pieces.
Cursing under his breath, Thompson ran at full speed to the crash site with Carter close on his heels. A section of the starboard wing had caught fire, and Thompson immediately began stamping down on it with his booted feet to extinguish it. Frustration surged through Carter as she took in the sight.
“God, why won’t you work?” she exclaimed, kicking at the UAV’s shattered fuselage.
Thompson shot her a disapproving frown as he examined the wreckage.
“Your ass must be sore from all the kicking you give it,” he chided.
A puzzled look crossed her face.
“Every time this bird doesn’t fly, you bang your head against the wall trying to figure out what’s wrong with it,” he clarified.
The confusion quickly faded as the irritation flooded through her once again.
“We’ve been working on this project for years, Josh! This is our third test flight, and it was another failure. I don’t understand what’s wrong!”
A sharp tug on her sleeve hauled her thoughts away from the decimated UAV and to her friend’s face.
“Sam, we have been working on this for a long time. I know that. But no one has ever built a UAV this small before! Hell, the Air Force is still trying to get the full-sized ones up and running!”
His voice dropped down to a whisper, his fingers squeezing her upper arm reassuringly.
“It’s going to take some time before we get it right.”
Placated, Carter leveled her eyes with his, expelling a deep breath and nodding in agreement. Relinquishing the gentle grip on her arm, Thompson knelt by the UAV, resuming to poke through the busted pieces.
She stood silent watching him for a moment, marveling at his uncanny ability to mollify the bouts of impatience that riddled through her from time to time. All it took was one fleeting glance from his intense brown eyes or the quiet, comforting tone of his voice murmuring in her ear, and Thompson could immediately allay her frustration or anxiousness.
“Would you quit standing there and help me find anything we can salvage?”
The sound of his pleasantly annoyed voice shook her from her thoughts, her eyes drifting back to the airplane.
There wasn’t much to find.
The UAV had swiftly lost altitude after the short-circuit and had plummeted to the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The fuselage had splintered into pieces, one wing was burnt to a crisp, and the other had cracked laterally across the crucial aileron. Only the tail seemed to survive the brunt of the crash.
Carter knelt by it, already taking into consideration the possible miscalculations that could have brought the plane down. Biting her lip, she absently rubbed at the miniature paintings of their own real call signs, a wizard’s wand with shooting stars and a flaming knight’s sword.
“The sparks we saw indicate a short-circuit. We’ve always secured the UAV in a storage shed to ensure that the wiring remained unsaturated.”
Thompson nodded in agreement, the gears in his own head turning just as quickly as hers.
“Sam, the sheds may keep out the wet weather, but some of the interiors are still sensitive to the extreme temperatures outside.”
“Right!” she exclaimed, connecting the pieces together.
“The temperatures have been below average for several weeks now, something we previously didn’t have to be concerned about. The past few nights, the temperature dropped to well below freezing. If the UAV became subject to those extreme temperatures due to inadequate storage, it’s likely some of the internal wiring froze.”
“And those frozen wires sparked when we turned it on, causing the short-circuit!” Josh completed her theory before she could finish, easily keeping up with her fast-paced thinking.
“We need to find a better equipped hiding place for our next model,” Carter declared.
Having reached an agreement, they returned to inspecting the pieces, working silently for a few minutes.
Thompson picked up one of the engine components, turning it over carefully between his fingers. His voice sounded thoughtful, almost absentminded, as he placed the piece in his pocket.
“Didn’t get much altitude when we launched…”
His companion hummed in accord as she picked through the remains of the UAV, focused on one of the wings.
“Stronger propellant would give the UAV a bigger boost into the air… Some kind of rocket propellant like they use for the shuttle over at the Cape…”
The cracked wing clattered to the ground, slipping from her immobile fingers. Thompson was an expert when it came to pushing things to go faster and higher, but this…
“Rocket propellant? Do you want to blow us up?” she asked incredulously.
“No, but --”
“Lieutenant Carter! Lieutenant Thompson!”
The pair immediately snapped to attention, the angry sound of their commanding officer’s voice halting any further quarreling. Carter stood completely still as Major Brayden Wells marched to the crash site, his face red with fury. She held her breath as their CO unhappily observed the mess on the ground.
The minutes seemed to slowly tick by, and all was silent except the sound of her rapidly pounding heart. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Thompson’s fingers twitching, and her eyes widened in alarm.
‘Don’t start fidgeting now, Lieutenant!’ she thought.
After what seemed like an eternity, Major Wells returned to stand in front of them, scowling in disapproval.
“Lieutenant Thompson.”
“Yes, sir?” came the automatic reply.
“You’re dismissed. I want to have a word with Lieutenant Carter.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Without question, Thompson saluted his superior officer and quickly fled the scene.
The cold weather burned Carter’s cheeks as she waited for the inevitable punishment, yet she did not flinch under the major’s glare. Years of training allowed her to hold her own against him, and she stared unblinkingly into his eyes, prepared for whatever reprimand he would be issuing her.
Appearing satisfied at the strength of her stamina, Wells backed down a bit.
“Lieutenant, there are important matters transpiring around the world right now. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with such…toys.”
He poked the wreckage of the UAV with one gleaming, black combat boot, emphasizing his disgust. Returning his attention to his subordinate, his tone softened marginally.
“You’ve got a good brain in that head of yours and flying skills that surpass almost every other pilot on this base. I know talent when I see it. Use that talent for something worth your while.”
Glancing down at the broken UAV, he added, “Clean up this mess and return to your quarters, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir!”
She crisply saluted him and sighed in relief as he walked away.
It was none too often when she was spared from the major’s stern punishments, especially after finding her working on the one project he despised the most. Wells had a tendency to bear down hard on his squadron, demanding the utmost dedication to being the best officers and fighter pilots the Air Force had to offer. In his rulebook, there was no room for anything but.
It was no surprise he singled out Carter much of the time. While the other members of the squadron leisurely logged a ridiculous number of hours during their days off, she took great liberty in meddling with all sorts of projects in her spare time, partly out of her insatiable curiosity, partly out of her youthful need to test her commanding officer’s limits.
As she knelt to pick up the smashed pieces of the UAV, she glared at the retreating figure of Major Wells.
“Go suck a lemon, sir,” Carter muttered under her breath.
One day, she knew her projects would successfully aid the Air Force. Then she would gain the satisfaction of proving to the major that her “toys” had been well worth the time and effort.
Continued in Chapter 2.