General Hammond scrawled his signature across the bottom of the report, closed the folder, and stacked it on top of the dozen or so others sitting on his desk. He glanced at the clock; it was very late. Or very early depending on your point of view, he supposed.

He reached for his coffee cup but pulled his hand back as he realized it had been at least an hour since the last warm-up. There was only one more report waiting. Best to get it done and try to grab a few hours of sleep before the official day began.

There was going to be a lot to do tomorrow. Make that today, he corrected himself.

So much for retirement, he thought.

But then he’d known retirement was out of the question the moment he’d stepped into the embarkation room to find a glowing-eyed alien standing over the dead bodies of men under his command.

And any further doubts he may have had about not retiring had vanished the moment Dr. Jackson presented him with the news that the Stargate was no one-trick pony.

It’s a damned big universe and we’ve just been handed the keys and a learner’s permit.

The report still waited.

He’d purposefully left it for last, his gut instinct telling him this report would be the one that demanded the most attention.

O’Neill’s report.

Colonel Jack O’Neill formerly retired and now point man – at Hammond’s insistence – for what was arguably the most important endeavor mankind had ever undertaken.

‘He’s a maverick,’ Samuels had argued. ‘An unbalanced emotional wreck’ who had served his purpose by confirming the Abydos gate was still active and who should be cut loose before he defied another order and wreaked more havoc.

Hammond had listened and had requested O’Neill’s reinstatement anyway. He knew Samuels would never understand his reasoning not that it mattered that much to him whether the major agreed or disagreed. He’d tolerated the man’s puffed up sense of self-worth and his barely contained ego over the past year but it was time for some changes.

Samuels would thrill some Pentagon brass with his knack for handling the day to day scut work. Stargate Command, as the President had dubbed it already, was going to need men and women with skill sets that were slightly out of the ordinary – people who could think out of the box.

Samuels just wasn’t going to fit in. He can’t even get the lid open much less find his way out of the box! No, the major will be better off somewhere else, Hammond decided. He’d give the man a few weeks while they made the transition to a fully functioning base. At least Samuels can handle all the paperwork that goes with getting this place operational.

If the man weren’t so irritating, I’d be tempted to keep him around. Hammond dismissed the idea almost immediately. Samuels just isn’t what I need at this command. O’Neill has already butted heads with him a few times.

We’re going to need a few mavericks around this place, he guessed, flipping open the report. And God help him – O’Neill sure seems to attract them. Birds of a feather, no doubt, he mused.

He skimmed the report, noting O’Neill’s carefully worded account of the alien’s assistance during the prison escape. It was followed by the even more carefully worded request to have the Jaffa assigned as a permanent member of SG1.

Talk about out of the box thinking! Maybe too far out of the box, Hammond thought. He wasn’t sure O’Neill understood what he was asking. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t give a damn.

The faces of the four dead airmen and the MIA Sgt. Kettering flashed through his mind.

O’Neill didn’t strike him as the type to casually dismiss the loss of those lives. He just wasn’t sure the colonel hadn’t misplaced his trust with the big alien. O’Neill’s convictions aside, there just wasn’t a lot of reason to support the Jaffa’s placement on the team.

Hell, for all I know I should lock him up and throw away the key.

O’Neill was convinced the intel they could get from the man was worth the risk. Hammond agreed the information they could get from the man was worth having – but there were other ways of getting information. They weren’t pretty ways and they surely weren’t the ways he normally would approve but he had a feeling that their choices were limited.

‘He’s the man who saved our lives.’ O’Neill’s words came back to him and Hammond frowned. Is that enough? Hammond wondered. Does it absolve him?

He doubted that it did. O’Neill will probably argue that it was a start at least. And if there is anyone on this base that understands second chances it’s Jack O’Neill.

But none of us will get any second chances if we misjudge the Jaffa’s motives.

He heard two sharp taps on his open door and looked up from the report to find O’Neill standing in the doorway.

“Colonel?”

“General! Sorry to intrude,” he said quickly, while at the same time stepping into the room. “We’re still trying to debrief the refugees; Daniel is dead on his feet; Carter’s busy with some computer… thingy…” he waved one hand around, shrugging, “that’s supposed to match the gate addresses we’ll be getting from the folks from Chulak to the ones we already have and the SFs say they can’t release Teal’c unless the order comes directly from you.” Hammond looked at the finger O’Neill was now pointing at him. “Sir,” the colonel added, dropping his hand.

Hammond sat back in his chair and studied the man standing before him. His hair stuck up wildly in all directions; his BDU jacket hung open exposing the black t-shirt he wore underneath; there were dark shadows under his eyes and he needed a shave.

“Colonel, do you know what time it is?”

O’Neill blinked at him and then slowly tilted his head to one side, his expression contemplative. “Late, sir?”

“Very.”

“Ah well, you know I figured you’d still be working,” O’Neill gestured toward him with one hand again, “and I was right,” the hand retreated and was swiped through his hair – doing little to tame the riot, “so no harm done. Right?”

Hammond resisted the urge to smile. “Colonel…”

“Look, sir, I know it’s late. That’s the problem, see? Daniel is practically sleepwalking and I really need Teal’c’s help with the refugees.”

“Son, when was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine, sir,” O’Neill replied without hesitation. “The sooner we can talk to all these folks, the sooner we can send them home and get them out of your hair…” O’Neill’s eyes widened slightly and he continued, “We need to get them outta here quickly; they’re gonna put a strain on our resources. We’ve packed them into practically every available spot. I thought I was going to have to empty out the supply closets for cryin’ out loud!”

“Where is Major Samuels?”

“I haven’t seen him since he came to the infirmary with the SFs to escort Teal’c to secured quarters.”

Hammond nodded, not really surprised. Maybe a few weeks is too generous, he thought.

“Sir, about Teal’c?” O’Neill pressed.

“Do you really think the refugees will talk to him?” Hammond asked. “After all, he’s probably the one that is responsible for their capture in the first place.”

O’Neill’s stance shifted; his body straightened as he drew himself up and squared his shoulders.

“General, I realize you have doubts. I know you’ve read my report,” he nodded at the folder still lying open on the desk, “and I know the question of how to handle Teal’c doesn’t have an easy answer. But with all due respect, sir… you weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t on Chulak,” Hammond admitted. “And you weren’t here when he led the raid that resulted in the deaths of my men and the abduction of a female sergeant.”

“He was under orders, General. Under orders from someone he’s been told all his life was his god. You or I… if we don’t follow orders what do we face? Demotion? Court martial? A black mark in our service record? Teal’c gave up his life when he tossed me that staff weapon. He would have stayed there – and died – if I hadn’t offered him the chance to return with us.”

“Are you saying he expects nothing in return?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what?”

“I’m saying he wants to help us and he expects us to help him free his people. We represent an opportunity he’s never had before. What could he have ever done on his own? With us, he’s got a chance to make a difference. I think he deserves his chance, sir.”

“I’ll notify the SFs to release him to you so you can continue debriefing the refugees.”

O’Neill nodded, “Thank you, sir.” Hammond wasn’t surprised when he failed to ask the bigger question. I don’t have that answer yet anyway. That decision was going to take more time.

“You’re dismissed, Colonel.”

“Yes, sir.” O’Neill started to turn away.

“Oh, and Colonel?” O’Neill checked himself in mid-stride and turned to look at him. “I appreciate your sense of urgency with the refugee matter but I expect you to be getting some sleep yourself soon.”

“They want to go home, General.” O’Neill shrugged. “Besides,” he grinned crookedly, “my commanding officer has set the example. What’s a few more hours without sleep anyway?”

Hammond chuckled. “Point taken, Colonel. It’s the burden of command. After all, this place doesn’t run itself.”

“No, sir. It certainly doesn’t. But it’s in good hands, sir.”

“Many hands, son. It’s in many hands.” O’Neill remained silent, staring at him. “Go on, Colonel. Go spring your alien. I’ll call ahead so they know to expect you.”

“Our alien, sir.” He turned and headed out the door. “And his name is Teal’c!” he called back over his shoulder as he left the room.

* * * * *

Hammond spotted the armed SFs standing outside the open door and headed for it. As he approached, they snapped to attention and saluted. He returned the gesture and softly said, “At ease,” as he stopped in front of the doorway and glanced inside.

Teal’c was quietly conversing with one of the refugees. He turned and translated the man’s words for O’Neill who sat nearby, jotting notes down on a yellow legal pad. The colonel whispered a question to the big man and Teal’c turned his attention back to the refugee, repeating the question in his own language.

O’Neill glanced up from his notepad and froze as he caught sight of Hammond standing in the doorway.

He smiled and jerked his head in Teal’c’s direction… his ‘I told ya so’ expression perfectly clear.

The refugee fell silent as he too noticed the newcomer and Teal’c turned to discover the cause for the interruption.

They stared at each other for a long moment and then, slowly, Teal’c inclined his head.

“Carry on,” Hammond ordered.

Teal’c turned away again, prompting the man to continue speaking.

Hammond nodded at O’Neill and stepped away from the doorway.

“Airman, do you know where Major Samuels is located?” he asked the young SF standing to the left of the door.

“Sir, he’s asleep, sir. In his quarters, sir.”

“I see. Thank you, airman.”

Hammond walked briskly down the corridor toward the elevator.

Occasionally, there are times for second chances, he thought, smiling. And sometimes there are not.