Title: The Assistant 02- Orientation
Author: dietcokechic
Email: dietcokechic@hotmail.com
Season: 6 (still pre episode 1; Daniel has been "gone" for about a month)
Spoilers: Vague references to some familiar SG characters and lore
Summary: Small arms lockers? Self destruct buttons? Level 3?! Kira's first day of work at the SGC.

Author's Notes: First things first - thank you so much for all of your wonderful feedback. I truly didn't know if I was doing the right thing with starting a new Kira series, but if your responses are anything to go by (and they sure were to me), I did good! ;p Now to set your mind at rest (for those who were worried), I am not going to turn Kira into a sickly sweet Mary Sue-like character. 'Ghost Daniel' was there for a very good reason. Besides the need to tie the old 'coffee Kira' to the new ' SGC Kira', I had an ulterior motive. [Cue maniacal laughter]. Yep. There is actually a very good reason why Daniel visited Kira well before Jack and others at the SGC . *Nods knowingly* Very good. It'll all become clear in the a few more chapters. Not this one though. *shakes head* Nope. This one is all about Kira and her first day at work.

In spite of my best efforts, things were not going according to plan.

Before heading to bed last night, I had spent a ridiculously long amount of time trying to figure out what I was going to wear in the morning. I mean, I wasn't just dressing for my first day at work; I was dressing for my first day at Work. As in, "I work at the most secret military institution in the world, but I really can't tell you about it." This sort of thing tends to put undue pressure on a girl.

At one point, with nearly my entire closet scattered across my bedroom, I had called Stefan in a panic and asked him if he had any clothes I could borrow. Sure he's 5'10 and I'm 5'2, but let's face it - he does dress better than me. Luckily, my friend not only has impeccable fashion sense, but he gives good verbal advice as well. On his urging, I put down the summer wool skirt, loosened my grip on the silk blouse, and escaped into the kitchen. I grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream, kicked off my uncomfortable new shoes (I was trying to break them in) and plopped onto the couch to watch a little television. Stefan called it, 'taking a siesta'. The fact that we weren't actually living in a sunny warm climate, and it wasn't the middle of the day didn't seem to bother Stefan. Together, albeit in separate living rooms, we watched an old Highlander rerun and happily sighed (at the same person, no less) as we watched Duncan McLeod kick a little bad immortal butt. It was close to midnight, before I tumbled into bed, but I did so content in the knowledge that the calf-length light gray skirt, ironed (!) cotton top (cream), and knee-length black boots were going to work just fine.

And they did. I mean they were.

The problem was my alarm clock and the 6 AM wake-up call. I thought 6 AM would be an excellent time to get up. I would have plenty of time for a leisurely shower, eat a nice breakfast while watching the morning news - maybe even make a lunch. The problem was that dang alarm - it didn't actually go off as scheduled.

Or at all.

Thankfully, its springtime, and the combination of sunshine and bird calls woke me up at a little after 7. I had a good twenty seconds of morning bliss, before the announcer let on that it was 7:06 and I nearly screamed. It takes at least twenty minutes to drive to the base, and there was also the added fun of security checks and elevator rides... I didn't know how I would make it by 8. I showered in record time and frantically threw on all my clothes. Breakfast consisted of an un-toasted frosted cherry pop tart and a diet coke. I grabbed a near-empty container of tic tacs (no time to brush my teeth) and quickly started the car for my journey up the hill. Well, mountain actually.

7:26. I'm expected in the briefing room (now doesn't that sound scary?) at 8 am sharp, and am having some serious doubts about my ability to so. I definitely won't set any kind of good impression on the new boss by being late my first day of work. I fight an unexpected wave of sadness, as I realize that I don't actually know who my boss will be. I mean it was going to be Daniel...I bite my lip and sternly order myself not to cry. It's bad enough that I (might. possibly.) am showing up late, but it seriously wouldn't do to arrive looking all puffy-eyed.

7:49. I make it past the first check point and pull into the parking lot. Although I'm not really surprised to see all the good spots taken, I did have my fingers crossed for something near the base gate. I spy all the jeeps and pick-up trucks and remind myself to make sure and get good tires before the first snow. Knowing Colorado, this could be anytime after September 1 st. I neatly pull into a spot at the far end of the lot and hop out of the car, barely taking the time to lock it (this is a secured military base after all). I'm at least twenty feet away before I remember my security card. Hopefully no one saw me banging my hand against my forehead. Briskly, I walk towards the guard (sentry?) near the elevator.

"Good morning," I say pleasantly, as I show my ID to the serious-looking marine (Air Force?) behind the desk. I'm a little surprised that he isn't wearing a name badge. I have this urge to give him a name. Shouldn't he have a name? I mean, he's guarding this whole big mountain by himself, you'd think they'd at least give him a name. I thought everyone in the military was require to wear a name badge - I mean they certainly do in the movies, and you'd think they wouldn't have bothered to add those in, if the military never really wore them...

"Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain," Unknown military guy says, startling me (thankfully) out of my thoughts. He scans my card, reads something on his computer screen and hands me back my badge with a shiny 'Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain' map. Well that's just dandy. He knows I'm the new girl as well.

"You are to report to the briefing room on Level 27," he pauses slightly before continuing. "At 0800." At least he doesn't look at his watch. I take the map and give him a tired smile. I mean it's great that I've been given a little help here (I'm certain the map will come in handy), but couldn't they have just mailed it to me in advance? Maybe I could have studied it or something. Now, I'm going to be walking around all day pulling out my map trying to figure out where I am. I try not to sigh aloud as I turn away from the guard and starting walking (briskly) towards the elevator. Or at least attempt to walk towards the elevator. I hear an 'ahem' sound and turn around to see the guard pointedly tapping the sign in book. Oops. Nearly forgot about that part. I smile again to let him know I'm not completely clueless, and sign the book.

I'm really not doing well this morning, am I?

This time, I manage to turn around and successfully make it to the elevator. I use my badge to open the elevator doors and step inside. Just as the doors begin to close, I hear the sound of someone running.

"Hold the doors!" A high-pitched voice shouts, as the uneven sound of heels hitting the pavement stops. "I'll be there in a second, just please hold the doors!" Even as I glance at my watch ( 7:57), I press the 'open' button and wait. Hey, it might only be elevator karma, but I'll take whatever I can get. Besides, don't these things move with super-sonic speed and stealth?

"Thank you, thank you!" The rushed woman gushes, as she breathlessly enters the elevator. She bends down and places her hands on her knees as she tries to control her breathing. As soon as I'm certain she's not going to pass out or anything, I take my hand off the hold button. The doors close and we silently descend. Well, near silence.

"I didn't think I was going to make it," the woman wheezes, as she reaches into her purse and pulls out an asthma inhaler. With one hand, she uncaps the plastic canister and releases two short bursts into her mouth. She holds her breath for a moment before releasing it in one long exhale. A moment later she does the whole thing all over again.

"Sorry about that," the woman apologizes, as she caps the inhaler and places it back into her purse. "I normally don't run, but really didn't want to be late."

"First day?" I ask hopefully. I won't feel nearly so bad about being late if I'm late with someone else.

"That obvious," she asks worriedly. I nod.

"It's mine as well," I say with a little smile. We stare at each other a little as the elevator moves deeper into the mountain. I know I'm way too old to be doing this, but I can't help but check this woman out. I mean, I know (more or less) what I'm going to be doing here, but I wonder what she does? Daniel once told me that nearly 10 percent of the base was made up of civilians. Mostly engineers, physicists and other hard scientists, but some linguists, anthropologists and archaeologists as well. I wonder where this woman fits in. Judging from her how she's dressed, I don't think she's military. Early, maybe mid thirties, and she seems pleasant enough, despite the awfully bright shade of red lipstick. Her straight blonde hair looks more cut than styled, but considering I hadn't styled my hair in nearly ten years, I'm really not one to judge. I'm doing everything in my power not to look at the monstrosity around her neck.

"It's the outfit, isn't it?" She asks sullenly, looking down at her dark tweed skirt and 80's style silk blouse. Absently, she pats at her bow beneath her chin. "I usually wear a lab coat."

"Are you a scientist?" I ask, trying to get her mind (and my eyes) off the rather large bow at the nape of her neck. I'm thinking she should pull a Jamie Lee Curtis -- but instead of fixing a funky skirt, she should do something about that top.

"Post-doc," she says nodding. "I've done a lot of work with theoretical modeling at Cal Tech." I must look a little confused for she adds, "Physics." I nod as if I have some idea what all that means.

"My name is Kira Meyers," I say holding out my hand. "I'm a bit of a linguist, and am not really all that sure what I'm going to be doing."

"Chloe Kennedy," she laughs in return as she shakes my hand. "And all I know is that I'm to be some guy's lab assistant. I know it sounds like a step down, but I hear the guy is some kind of genius."

"Maybe he'll be cute," I offer.

"Scientists aren't known for 'cute'," she explains with a resigned sigh. I shake my head in disagreement.

"One of the cutest guys I've ever known was a scientist."

"Is he taken?" Chloe asks dryly. I try to school the look on my face, but I think I need to work on it a bit more. "I said something wrong, didn't I?" Chloe says, becoming angry with herself. "I always do that!"

"No, no," I insist as the elevator stops at Level 21. "It's just a long story," I say lamely as the doors open. There's no way I can possibly explain my relationship with Daniel in ten words or less! "You didn't say anything wrong, Chloe! Really!" Great, Kira. Meet someone new and then say something stupid. Geeze.

We're pretty quiet as a medical worker (the stethoscope gives it away) gets on board. He rides only one level down before getting off. It might just be me, but I thought I smelled French toast as the doors closed; I check my map.

"Cafeteria?" Chloe asks, tentatively. Luckily, I recognize an olive branch when I see one. I make a mental note not to act too weird in front of her. At least not until Chloe has a chance to get to know me.

"Commissary," I explain, pointing to a spot on the map. "Cafeteria for the military-minded." We look at the map together. "It says the commissary is open 24 hours a day and is open to all base personnel."

"That might come in handy some evening," Chloe remarks. I nod in agreement and fold the map up as the doors open one last time. Level 27.

"Briefing room?" I ask.

"Briefing room," Chloe confirms with a nod. Together we turn left and head down a hallway with red and yellow floor markings. I'm thankful we're not actually on the same floor as the Stargate - I don't think I'm ready to see it again quite yet. We hear voices coming from an open doorway and even though there isn't a big white sign saying, "Newbies Here!" I'm fairly certain we've reached the right place. Right before we walk inside, I glance at my watch: 8:03. I close my eyes briefly in resignation. I might be late, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

"Ms. Meyers, Dr. Kennedy," a voice booms loudly, "how nice of you to join us." I'm just glad it's General Hammond that greets me, and not Jack. General Hammond might rank higher than Jack and be a little scary in his own way, but I'm not sure if I was ready to be bawled out by Colonel Jack O'Neill. Not that it wouldn't be deserved or anything, but I hadn't quite taken the leap from Colonel Cute Guy to 2IC of Stargate Command.

"Sorry I'm late," I say sincerely, as I enter and take a seat at the far side of a large briefing table. Six people are already seated, four men and two women. I look around the room and make some eye contact with the new "recruits" around me. "Really sorry I'm late everyone, it won't happen again."

"Me too," Chloe mumbles, eyes firmly fixed on the briefing material in front of her. Or her big blue bow - it's hard to tell the difference.

"Now that our wayward scientists have arrived, we can begin," General Hammond says casting a stern eye in Chloe's and my direction. "Welcome again to Stargate Command! I know all of you have been here at least once before, but today is the first day of your three-day orientation period." I'm fairly certain I wasn't the only one who had, 'Three Day?!' written all over her face, for General Hammond went on to explain in greater detail.

"All of you are civilian scientists. We have found that it sometimes takes civilians a few days of additional...assistance before becoming comfortable. Today, Sgt. Harriman is going to show you around the base, and introduce you to your new department heads." A short, kind-looking man in a dark blue jumpsuit nods at us. He makes eye contact with me and slyly turns his coffee mug around; it's a Victor's mug. I can't help but grin - Sgt. Harriman gives me a knowing wink. General Hammond opens his mouth to tell us something new, when suddenly an alarm sounds and something akin to an emergency light in the corner of the room turns red.

"Unscheduled incoming wormhole!" Sgt. Harriman says to the General as he heads towards the stairs. He turns back around before heading down. "Sir, with your permiss..."

"Go!" the General orders as Harriman disappears down the spiral staircase. "I was going to save this for later," the General says as he heads over to a panel near a solid wall, "But there's no time like the present to introduce you to what it is we really do here." He pushes something on a panel and the slate gray wall vanishes and all we are left with a bird's eye view of the Stargate. I know this is only my second time seeing it, but I have a funny feeling this sight will never get old.

"Oh my God," I hear someone whisper behind me.

"I'm needed in the Control Room," Hammond explains, as we all stare out the window. "If you all could please stay put, I or Sgt. Harriman will return as soon as we can." I'm certain I nod. I'm also certain that most everyone else in that room nodded too. And I'm pretty certain I'm not the only one who can't take my eyes off that spinning wheel and the glowing symbols along the outer rim.

"Repeat, we have an unscheduled incoming wormhole," Harriman's voice is heard announcing through the base's PA system." We watch as the seventh symbol lights up. I'm kindof waiting for that blue tidal wave effect, but it doesn't happen.

"Receiving IDC," the sergeant says. IDC? What the heck is an IDC? "It's SG-1." Jack!

"I thought they weren't due back until tomorrow," General Hammond says.

"They aren't, sir," Harriman agrees. I don't actually hear the general sigh, but my imagination sure does.

"Open the iris," the general orders. "Security and medical personnel to the Gateroom," Hammond announces over the loudspeakers.

We watched transfixed as the iron (steel?) covering on the gate disappears and the blue water I remember from my lone visit shimmers into existence. I hear a few low murmurs of wonder, but the moment a soldier walks through the water the gasps become audible and more than a few people take a step backwards. I can't help it. I find myself taking a step forward. I then smile. Colonel Jack!

Jack comes through the Stargate looking a little annoyed, but no worse for wear. He takes off his sunglasses and hands his weapon to a military guy standing by the side of the gate. Behind him, I recognize Sam and Murr..Teal'c. Whoa. Teal'c really does look a lot more like an alien without a hat. Or maybe a God. Man, that guy is built! Even from twenty feet away, I can make out the symbol on his forehead. 'Wow' doesn't even cut it.

Then I notice the fourth guy. He's walking (kinda) between Sam and Teal'c. He isn't wearing a shirt. Not that he really needs to wear a shirt (can you say six-pack?), but I'm guessing walking through the Stargate is kind of a 'No Shoes - No Shirt - No Entry' kind of thing. The guy's eyes don't seem to be tracking all that well.

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond asks into the Gateroom microphone, "what happened to your team?" He might have said 'team' but the question was clearly meant for the drugged-out looking fourth member of SG-1. My heart clenches a little as I realize this is the guy who is replacing Daniel.

"He ate the cake," Jack replies smugly.

"Excuse me?" the General asks.

"Sir," Sam begins. "After a successful first contact with the inhabitants of P3X-526, our team was invited to a dinner."

"A dinner where Captain Lucky over here ate the cake," Jack finishes.

"The desert does appear to cause mild euphoria and hallucinations," Sam continues trying to keep the 'injured' soldier upright, while at the same time trying to move away from his roaming hands.

"You're not a hallucination, Major Carter, are you?" the drugged soldier asks Sam lovingly, attempting to give her a sappy puppy dog look. Unfortunately, in his current state, the look is almost obscene.

"Medical assistance to the Gateroom," Hammond repeats on the basewide PA system.

"I warned him about the cake," Jack says again, as he relieves Sam of her burden. She walks over to another one of the gate guards and passes over her guns (two!) and this heavy-looking vest thing she is wearing.

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, O'Neill," Teal'c states solemnly, giving Jack, what looked to me, like a dirty look. "You know Captain Lynch will recover from this experience deeply embarrassed. Did we not turn the other cheek when something similar happened to you?" Jack's good humor seems to fade.

"Not quite the right use of the phrase, T," Jack says, relinquishing his grip on the captain to the medical technicians. "Besides, back then, Carter was trying to impress me, and you were still Scary Jaffa Guy - neither of you said a thing. But Daniel..." his voice trails off and he takes a moment before turning towards the technicians. "He going to be all right?" Jack asks.

"It looks like a pretty standard narcotic reaction, sir," one of the techs replies. "We'll know more after we test him, but I'm guessing he'll sleep it off and just wake up with a headache.

"Yeah, that sounds about right..." Jack mutters, scratching his head.

"Debriefing in one hour, SG-1," Hammond orders. Like a well-oiled machine, the gate room swiftly empties.

"That's four, General," Jack yells holding up four fingers as he exits through the doorway.

"Wow," one of the new scientists says, as he staggers back to his seat. "That was SG-1!"

"Yeah, so?" Clearly not everyone is impressed. Apparently, we aren't all operating from an even playing board as far as knowledge of the base goes.

"SG-1!" He says, becoming more animated. "Only the premiere first contact team! Those guys have done it all!"

"They didn't look all that impressive to me," another man remarks. I snicker when I hear a woman behind me mumble, "they sure did to ME." The unimpressed man continues on, "that third guy couldn't even stand on his own!"

"He isn't a member of SG-1," the know-it-all explains. "At least not a permanent member. From what my cousin says, SG-1 is currently going through fourths like they're going out of style."

"What do you mean?" another woman asks. I know exactly where this conversation is going and really want to leave.

"You mean, you haven't heard about what happened to Dr. Jackson?" I close my eyes and don't say a word. I listen once again to Daniel's tragedy and try not to show how affected I am by it all. His version of Daniel's death is a little different than the one Jack told me - I make a mental note to ask for more detail once I know I am willing to do so without crying. There are a lot of questions and some general conversation that floats back and forth, and it's all I can do not to get up and walk out of the room. It isn't like they are saying anything mean about Daniel, but they are talking about him abstractly. In the past. As if he wasn't a real person. Thankfully, Sgt. Harriman returns before too long and our tour of the SGC begins in earnest.

"So let me get this straight," Dr. Gussman asks as we head back to the Commissary for lunch. "The archaeologists and linguists are on Level 18, the mathematicians and physicists are on 21, the kitchen is on 22, the General's office and the briefing room are on 27 and the Stargate itself and the base's self destruct are on Level 28."

"Along with the main armory," Sgt. Harriman adds helpfully.

"Man oh man," Gussman exclaims, rubbing his forehead. "This is a lot to take in!"

"I know it's pretty overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it." As if on cue, the red lights on the edges of the Commissary begin to flash and we hear, "Offworld Activation, Offworld Activation!"

"Don't worry about that - it's just the scheduled return of SG-3," Harriman says, trying to mollify those feeling nervous (again). We're all in line for our lunches, with Dr. Drexell (call me Ryan, please!) in the very back, studying his SGC map.

"Hey!" Ryan says, loudly enough to turn a few heads near by. "You forgot to show us something."

"Really?" Harriman asks, as he picks up a tray of mystery meat and mashed potatoes. "What's that?"

"Level 3!" Ryan replies with a grin. Harriman chuckles and shakes his head.

"It's not usually part of the tour," he explains moving on towards desert.

"What's on Level 3?" Chloe asks, interested.

"Paychecks," I reply not missing a beat. "Level 3 is the Accounting Department." Everyone turns to look at me.

"How did you know that?" Gussman asks. I smile innocently.

"It's also the base repository for mission files. If you're late filling out a form, or completing a requisition, someone from Level 3 contacts you."

"Really?" Ryan asks.

Walter Harriman nods in agreement. "Oh yeah." He's about to say more when I spy Colonel Jack entering the room. We make eye contact and I give him a smile. It occurs to me that I have absolutely no idea how to act around him. I mean here. On his base.

"Well, hello new scientists!" Jack greets all of us warmly. He gives everyone a cheery smile, but I swear, his eyes are twinkling. At me.

"Have a good trip, sir?" Walter asks.

"Oh you know," Jack says nonchalantly. "We went, saw a few trees, ate some cake..." I can't help but snicker. Jack tries to give me the 'I disapprove of that attitude, missy' look, but it doesn't work. "Enjoying your first day?" he asks the group. We all nod in agreement.

"I just finished giving them the tour, sir," Walter explains.

"Well, not the complete tour," Ryan mumbles.

"What'd you miss?" Jack asks rubbing his hands together. "I'm the base 2IC ya know, I can show you just about anything." Jack isn't saying this like he's bragging or anything, more like someone who knows where the good chocolate is kept.

"We want to see Level 3," Dr. Gussman requests. Silence. Everyone just stands there as Jack looks serious and pensive. For several long moments he appears to be deep in thought.

"Three, huh?" For those who don't know him, he really does look like he is giving this notion some serious consideration. Oh he's thinking all right, but somehow I don't think it's of visiting Level 3. Suddenly, his expression changes as he flips open this fancy velcro cover on his watch.. "Oh, would you look at the time?"  He clucks his tongue as if it's much too late. "It's been nice meeting all you folks, but I have to go now. Important SGC business." He gives me a wink, snags a roll off Walter's tray and then strides purposefully out the main entrance. I grin.

I'm going to enjoy working with Jack O'Neill.

More Notes: Ta'dah! So... my first full length Assistant story at the SGC (and did you notice the length?!) I hope it worked for you and you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. All the levels (including Accounting) are real - they came from the Stargate Omnipedia at Gateworld. Now as to Chloe's last name or any of the other scientists mentioned in this story - those are all from my imagination. More to come!

3/10/06 Addendum: Thanks to Lydia, Marilyn, Maab, Nancy, Nighshae and Jennzabelle for pointing out a few earlier boo-boos. Hammond's office now has a blast shielf for a wall, level 13 has rightfully become Level 3 and Walter doesn't announce that it's SG-1 until after their IDC has been sent through. See? This is what happens when I write a ten-page story instead of a three-pager, and still try and post by midnight! I've also altered a few of the last lines so that Jack isn't showing Kira deferential treatment. I mean -- at least not in an obvious way. Yet. *vbg*

Written March 8, 2006