Ladybird
First Post
Previously, on the Cheyenne Mountain Irregulars, Part 3
September 27, 2010
Major Kathleen Fitzgerald stood outside the general’s office, going over herself one last time. Uniform – neatly buttoned, given one last tug to make sure it was on completely straight. Hair – tightly pulled back into a braid, even the last little unruly curls ruthlessly gelled in place. Hands – resolutely behind her back, so the general wouldn’t see them shaking. I’m not going to let anything slip, she thought. Even if this is the end.
He answered her knock almost immediately. “Come in!”
She stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind her. The general was behind his desk…no, he was mostly behind his desk and partly on it, with his feet propped up on a pile of papers as he tilted back in his desk chair, squinting up at a thick report. She snapped off a precise salute, her already-straight back becoming even more rigid as she did so. “You asked to see me, sir?”
“At ease, Major.” The general waved a casual hand at the chair opposite him as he swung his feet down from his desk and tossed the report aside. Kathleen brought her hand down from the salute, but remained standing, hands folded neatly behind her back. A smile quirked up the corners of the general’s mouth, half bemused and half sympathetic. “That means, have a seat.”
“Yes, sir.” Kathleen took the offered chair, but her posture remained perfectly straight - shoulders squared, ankles neatly crossed, and hands folded together very very tightly. This is it, she thought. Keep it together. Don’t let him shake you…
“So,” the general began. “How was the Sox game last night?”
Kathleen blinked. “Um. Excuse me, sir?” That wasn’t what he was supposed to say.
“What, you didn’t watch?” he asked, astonished.
“Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, I did, sir. I – uh – thought that Gonzales’ pitching was a little off in the first couple innings, but they made the right call to leave him in.” Nervousness made her voice come out a little too high, a little too fast – she made herself stop before it got any worse.
“Yeah, me too.” The general gave Kathleen a sideways glance, taking in her stiff composure and carefully-neutral expression. “It’s called small talk, Major? You know, the kind of thing you do when you’re trying to put someone at ease?” He raised his eyebrows pointedly.
”Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She did not unbend.
“Well, I guess you’d rather not beat around the bush, then.”
“No, sir!” It came out with more relieved fervor than Kathleen had planned on. “Please,” she added, softly.
“All right, Major. Here it is.” Kathleen swallowed hard. Here it is, she repeated in her mind. We regret to inform you. Honorable discharge. However they’re saying it these days. She pulled herself up straighter, waiting for the blow to fall.
“We’re putting together a new SG team,” said the general. “Reviving the SG-17 number. And we’d like you to head it up.”
Kathleen blinked. Speechless. It’s a good thing I was already sitting down, she thought incongruously.
“I think here is probably where you say ‘Yes, sir,’” prompted the general.
Kathleen stared. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“They tell me you speak five Earth languages and three alien ones,” he continued, beginning to grin. It wasn’t malicious – it was just the pleased smile of someone who has been given the opportunity to pass on unexpectedly good news. “Can’t find anything to say in any of them?”
“Um,” Kathleen gulped, and finally managed to choke out, “Yes, sir. But - but you're putting me on more active duty? But - ”
“But you don’t have a lot of off-world experience,” he finished for her. “I know. But you’ve had an excellent service record in the cryptology division, and we think you’re a good candidate for this position.”
“But sir, I – “
Once again, the general cut her off. “Your second off-world mission wasn’t exactly a huge success. You were still a big part of making sure that just about everyone made it back safely.”
“But sir,” Kathleen said yet again, and rushed the rest of the sentence out before the general could interject again. “Sir, you do know about my...record?”
The twinkle faded from the general’s eyes. “Yes, Major,” he answered, his voice quiet and entirely serious. “I’ve read your file. All of it.” He met her worried gaze directly. “I want you on this team, Major Fitzgerald. We need someone who can think, and someone who can talk through any situation in any language. This is going to be the kind of team that goes into situations that you can’t just shoot your way out of. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said once more, her voice beginning to regain some of its steadiness. “When do I – we – start?”
“You start training two weeks from today.” The general shuffled briefly through the chaos of papers on his desk, emerging with a large manila folder which he passed across to Kathleen. “Here are the personnel records on your other team members. Get acquainted with them.” She reached out to take it from him, pulling the heavy file back quickly so that he wouldn’t see that her hands were still shaking. “We’ll meet again in a few days, once you’ve had a chance to start organizing things. In the meantime, read up on the rest of the team, and try to take a break, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” Come on, she told herself. Can’t you think of anything else to say besides that? And then she answered her own question: No, not really “I’ll do my best, sir,” Kathleen managed.
The general nodded. “Good. Unless you have any other questions, Major, that’s all for now. You’re dismissed.”
Kathleen got to her feet swiftly, pulling herself up just as straight as before as she gave a final salute. “Yes, sir.” She paused, bringing her hand down, and added quietly, “Thank you, sir.” Then she bent down again to pick up the files for her team. My team! she couldn't help thinking, with a flash of pride, and a smile began to spread across her face as she turned to go.
September 27, 2010
Major Kathleen Fitzgerald stood outside the general’s office, going over herself one last time. Uniform – neatly buttoned, given one last tug to make sure it was on completely straight. Hair – tightly pulled back into a braid, even the last little unruly curls ruthlessly gelled in place. Hands – resolutely behind her back, so the general wouldn’t see them shaking. I’m not going to let anything slip, she thought. Even if this is the end.
He answered her knock almost immediately. “Come in!”
She stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind her. The general was behind his desk…no, he was mostly behind his desk and partly on it, with his feet propped up on a pile of papers as he tilted back in his desk chair, squinting up at a thick report. She snapped off a precise salute, her already-straight back becoming even more rigid as she did so. “You asked to see me, sir?”
“At ease, Major.” The general waved a casual hand at the chair opposite him as he swung his feet down from his desk and tossed the report aside. Kathleen brought her hand down from the salute, but remained standing, hands folded neatly behind her back. A smile quirked up the corners of the general’s mouth, half bemused and half sympathetic. “That means, have a seat.”
“Yes, sir.” Kathleen took the offered chair, but her posture remained perfectly straight - shoulders squared, ankles neatly crossed, and hands folded together very very tightly. This is it, she thought. Keep it together. Don’t let him shake you…
“So,” the general began. “How was the Sox game last night?”
Kathleen blinked. “Um. Excuse me, sir?” That wasn’t what he was supposed to say.
“What, you didn’t watch?” he asked, astonished.
“Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, I did, sir. I – uh – thought that Gonzales’ pitching was a little off in the first couple innings, but they made the right call to leave him in.” Nervousness made her voice come out a little too high, a little too fast – she made herself stop before it got any worse.
“Yeah, me too.” The general gave Kathleen a sideways glance, taking in her stiff composure and carefully-neutral expression. “It’s called small talk, Major? You know, the kind of thing you do when you’re trying to put someone at ease?” He raised his eyebrows pointedly.
”Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She did not unbend.
“Well, I guess you’d rather not beat around the bush, then.”
“No, sir!” It came out with more relieved fervor than Kathleen had planned on. “Please,” she added, softly.
“All right, Major. Here it is.” Kathleen swallowed hard. Here it is, she repeated in her mind. We regret to inform you. Honorable discharge. However they’re saying it these days. She pulled herself up straighter, waiting for the blow to fall.
“We’re putting together a new SG team,” said the general. “Reviving the SG-17 number. And we’d like you to head it up.”
Kathleen blinked. Speechless. It’s a good thing I was already sitting down, she thought incongruously.
“I think here is probably where you say ‘Yes, sir,’” prompted the general.
Kathleen stared. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“They tell me you speak five Earth languages and three alien ones,” he continued, beginning to grin. It wasn’t malicious – it was just the pleased smile of someone who has been given the opportunity to pass on unexpectedly good news. “Can’t find anything to say in any of them?”
“Um,” Kathleen gulped, and finally managed to choke out, “Yes, sir. But - but you're putting me on more active duty? But - ”
“But you don’t have a lot of off-world experience,” he finished for her. “I know. But you’ve had an excellent service record in the cryptology division, and we think you’re a good candidate for this position.”
“But sir, I – “
Once again, the general cut her off. “Your second off-world mission wasn’t exactly a huge success. You were still a big part of making sure that just about everyone made it back safely.”
“But sir,” Kathleen said yet again, and rushed the rest of the sentence out before the general could interject again. “Sir, you do know about my...record?”
The twinkle faded from the general’s eyes. “Yes, Major,” he answered, his voice quiet and entirely serious. “I’ve read your file. All of it.” He met her worried gaze directly. “I want you on this team, Major Fitzgerald. We need someone who can think, and someone who can talk through any situation in any language. This is going to be the kind of team that goes into situations that you can’t just shoot your way out of. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said once more, her voice beginning to regain some of its steadiness. “When do I – we – start?”
“You start training two weeks from today.” The general shuffled briefly through the chaos of papers on his desk, emerging with a large manila folder which he passed across to Kathleen. “Here are the personnel records on your other team members. Get acquainted with them.” She reached out to take it from him, pulling the heavy file back quickly so that he wouldn’t see that her hands were still shaking. “We’ll meet again in a few days, once you’ve had a chance to start organizing things. In the meantime, read up on the rest of the team, and try to take a break, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” Come on, she told herself. Can’t you think of anything else to say besides that? And then she answered her own question: No, not really “I’ll do my best, sir,” Kathleen managed.
The general nodded. “Good. Unless you have any other questions, Major, that’s all for now. You’re dismissed.”
Kathleen got to her feet swiftly, pulling herself up just as straight as before as she gave a final salute. “Yes, sir.” She paused, bringing her hand down, and added quietly, “Thank you, sir.” Then she bent down again to pick up the files for her team. My team! she couldn't help thinking, with a flash of pride, and a smile began to spread across her face as she turned to go.
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