Chapter Text
After straightening his wings yet again, Harm inspected the line of his uniform for what he hoped would be the final time. Some days the accoutrements went on without a hitch. Other days it was a never-ending struggle against gravity and thread counts. During his tour of the SGC, he'd noticed the military personnel wore either service B's or some form of combat duty uniform. Khakis seemed to be the most appropriate uniform for his first actual day serving in the Mountain as opposed to the much more formal winter blues. While Harm had an almost instinctive understanding of how Navy uniforms shifted with duty assignment, time of year and daily assignment, he doubted anyone else in the command would have a clue. It gave him some leeway to form what would hopefully become the new SGC Navy standard.
The schedule he'd received the day prior detailed a day of more paperwork, security and personnel briefings, medical evaluations, office assignment, and general orientation. Yesterday, he'd spent hours sequestered at Peterson AFB officially rejoining the Navy. Everything he'd signed had been backdated to his release from the CIA, which he thought had been a nice touch. The SGC didn't owe him anything let alone the courtesy of uninterrupted Federal service. He was ecstatic simply carrying military ID in his wallet again.
With a final frown at his ribbons and their alignment, he forced himself to stop obsessing over a line less than a millimeter out of level. No one was going to be holding a ruler up to his rack for a formal inspection. He was pretty sure the only thing they'd be talking about was the fact he was Navy and not Air Force.
He pulled on his flight jacket, grabbed his briefcase, cover, and travel mug of coffee, then exited his temporary home at the base's inn. General Hammond had been extremely generous in his temporary lodging allowance as Harm was starting training immediately instead of the usual PCS permissive TDY. Harm hadn't needed to house hunt for over a decade and he wasn't looking forward to it, so the idea he'd be able to push it off for some weeks was one stressor gone.
The air was chilly for October, but at a mile in elevation compared to sea level in D.C. Harm had expected the difference. Thankfully, the sun was doing its best to counteract the cold and his rental car was pleasantly warm inside. His Lexus was going to take a few weeks to process and transport, just in time for the snows to hit, although he'd already been warned that Colorado was notoriously fickle during autumn and spring.
The half hour drive vanished as his thoughts whirled around his new assignment. While assigned to JAG and on a carrier, Harm had known what to expect and the general direction of his days. The SGC was a world completely new. It was unnerving yet absurdly enticing at the same time.
He went through the same security procedure as before on the first level, though he didn't require an escort this time. At the second, the guard scanned his ID, smiled and pointed him toward a closed door opposite of the elevators. "If you'll go through there, sir, Lieutenant Owen will get you processed into the system so you can proceed down."
The door opened with a loud click revealing a standard security office filled with monitors and two desks. "Come in, sir," said a man of average height who Harm assumed was Lieutenant Owen. "This won't take too long." The door shut behind them with that same loud click as well as a beep from the electronic panel next to the door frame. "Your orders, sir?"
Harm pulled a copy of his assignment orders from his briefcase and handed it over. It only took about ten minutes for the lieutenant to create a security profile for him, including the personalized duress check he'd given Colonel O'Neill a hard time over.
"You're now cleared for lower level access, sir," Owen said, slipping his paperwork into a file. "Medical will complete the biometric scans and update your records so your next pass through security should follow standard access procedure."
Despite what he'd witnessed and learned from O'Neill, Harm was impressed anew at the high level of competence and security. He was on a list of approved new arrivals, his identification and signature had checked out, yet they'd still verified him and his authority to enter the base with multiple sources. No one was gaining access to the SGC that wasn't meant to be there. "Thank you, Lieutenant. It's been a pleasure."
"I doubt that, sir, but thanks for trying anyway."
They shared a chuckle as Harm left the office and moved to the elevator. He scanned his ID at the security plate, smiling briefly when the light blinked green at him.
"Sir?"
He looked over his shoulder to the SF who remained standing at the desk. "Yes, Sergeant?"
"Welcome to the SGC."
"Have a good day, Sergeant," he said, stepping through the open doors. They slid closed on the SF's smile and Harm punched the button for the third level security floor. With his new and improved status, he passed through the final checkpoint with ease and was soon stepping through the grey corridors toward the observation room. A quick glance at his watch showed he still had twenty minutes until the scheduled briefing. The corridors seemed to be much more populated than when O'Neill had escorted him around the base. Both Air Force and Marine personnel gave his khakis a second glance before greeting him with a nod or a good morning. Two marines slowed visibly as if they were about to question his presence as an unknown entity, but after a mumbled exchange between them the suspicion cleared from their body language and they moved passed him. There was also a surprising number of civilian personnel in lab coats, scrubs, and coveralls, though none of them seemed to think anything unusual about his attire or presence.
The murmur of multiple conversations filtered through the doorway as Harm climbed the steps to the briefing room. All eyes turned to him as he entered, but no one looked familiar. Two civilians and six military members stood in three knots of people around the large table. Folders dotted the spaces in front of various seats so Harm set his briefcase, coffee and cover at an empty one as he nodded a greeting to the assembled personnel. He slid his flight jacket over the back of the chair, pleased to remove the leather which was far too heavy for the comfortable temperature of the base.
One blue uniform separated herself from the group she'd been chatting with and approached. "Commander Rabb, I'm Sergeant Kendricks. I'm assigned as your group's inprocessing liaison. The last four are passing through security now and General Hammond will be in to greet you all when they arrive."
"Thank you, Sergeant." By implication of her words, Harm assumed he was the senior member of the group. It was standard to assign the highest ranking person as the officer in charge of any military group. It made command and control so much easier with a clear chain of command, even for something seemingly as insignificant as an inprocessing function. "Just let me know how I can assist."
She returned his smile and handed him a manila folder. "Temporary assignments, briefing and training schedules for all incoming personnel. The twelve of you will go through all standard Earth-based training together, sir. Some of them may need remedial prior to advancing to Alpha site."
In other words, the civilians at a minimum were going to need babysitting. "Understood. I'll do my best to help out."
"Appreciate it, sir." She waved to a cart tucked away against a wall. "Please refresh your coffee and get to know your fellow newbies."
He returned her welcoming smile then flipped open the folder. The personnel list was the first page. The civilians were scientists with specialties Harm didn't even bother trying to read. The four marines all looked to be combat personnel, two each non-com and commissioned, while the Air Force had two pilots, two combat and one support staff. All in all, they would be an eclectic group. Harm scanned the rest of the documents, noting the quarters and gear locker assignments as well as the temporary duty assignments once they'd completed the coming weeks of training. Surprisingly, his own name was the only one with a blank space following it. His brows drew together as he stared at the missing information, wondering why the lack. Boots ringing on metal steps jolted him out of his thoughts and he set the folder next to his briefcase.
The final four members of their group were three of the marines and the last airman. Harm nodded a greeting to them when each set of eyes paused on his uniform before either nodding as well or murmuring a 'good morning, sir.' The looks didn't bother him. It would take some time for the SGC to acclimate to a naval officer roaming their halls. A thought hit him as he looked once again over the uniforms in the room and the uniforms he'd seen throughout the base. Air Force and Marine, not Army. The pairing went against everything he'd become familiar with during both land and sea duty. Where were the soldiers? Why were two Marine Recons standing in the room with Harm instead of two Rangers?
He set the puzzle aside to ask Colonel O'Neill about later as General Hammond's office door opened and the man walked into the room. Harm came to attention without thought, noting the other military members present followed suit a lagging second behind.
"At ease, everyone," Hammond said, raising an eyebrow at Harm. Yes, apparently General Hammond ran a much more relaxed atmosphere than what Harm was accustomed to. "Please be seated."
There was a little shuffling as the last personnel to arrive jostled for seats. There were just enough chairs for the twelve of them in addition to the general, though they were crammed much tighter than when Jack had given Harm his tour. Harm slid a pen out of his briefcase and tugged the folder with the assignments close enough to take notes if needed. He had an excellent memory, but almost everything about the SGC was new. He couldn't begin to guess what information he didn't know.
"First, let me welcome you officially to the SGC," the general said, gaze traveling all the way around the table. "You each have been selected for service here because you have distinguished yourself in your chosen fields ahead of your peers. As you know, we are the first line of defense for our world and as such we will ask more from you than any previous assignment ever has. No matter if you're assigned to an off-world team or here in the labs, you are now an integral part of the safety and security of this planet and our allies across the galaxy."
As an opening speech, it was one of the best Harm had ever heard. A glance across the table told him the people sitting opposite were equally struck. The male civilian appeared a little green around the gills, but the female sat proudly with her back straight and her head up. Harm forced down a pang of regret at the oh so familiar posture. Mac was two thousand miles away prepping a case without him. Thankfully, Hammond continued before he could get caught up in a circle of useless thoughts.
"Later today you'll each be given your computer access. Once you log on you'll find a folder with mission reports and debriefs pertinent to your duty stations. Read every one of them. Any questions direct to your section supervisor or team leader. Now, I understand that a bit of interservice competition is always good for morale." He waited for the grins to appear around the table and even Harm found himself with the corners of his mouth tilting upward. "But here in the SGC we are one team. No individual's performance will affect anyone else's position or assignment. I expect those of you who are subject matter experts to assist those who may needed additional training. When one team member falls in the field it hurts all of us."
The smiles vanished around the room. Harm had been in more than his fair share of life-threatening situations, both in the air and on the ground. The SGC was something on a whole new level. He had no idea if he would ever be assigned to an off-world team even on a temporary basis. The only thing he knew for certain was that O'Neill wanted him checked out on every craft in the inventory. The general's words were a stark reminder that Harm had to be prepared for anything.
"Commander Rabb will act as team leader for this phase of your training so direct any questions or requests regarding inprocessing through him." General Hammond nodded in his direction and Harm felt all eyes once again on him. "The next few weeks will test your resiliency, perseverance, personal and tactical skills, and team work. Remember why you are here. I have no doubts you will all live up to expectations."
Harm stood when the general did, the others slightly behind. Hammond exchanged a few quiet words with Sergeant Kendricks then headed back into the office. Kendricks moved forward as the door closed behind him. "If you will gather your things, I'll escort you to the gear lockers where Commander Rabb will issue your codes. After that we'll head up to medical where you'll be for the rest of the morning."
Quickly flipping through the folder he'd received earlier, Harm found the locker codes as well as maps of the SGC. He waved the folder to pull his team's attention as they secured their gear. "I also have maps and your individual itineraries. No need to worry about getting lost down here."
A few chuckles dotted the room as Harm scanned their faces. Mostly calm and a couple excited, though the civilian male was still seemed a little hesitant. Hopefully, he'd find his spine soon. Harm stored the folder in his briefcase then tossed his jacket over his arm. "Ready when you are, Sergeant."
*****
Cont. in Part Two