Chapter Text
Their personal goodbye had been done in private this morning, at home, and had been steamy enough they'd needed showers afterwards. Something Tony had considered when he set their alarms the night before. Driving through the early morning traffic of their usual commute had felt different, and the jeep thrummed with a muted tension.
Tony firmly kept his jaws clamped, and any last minute pleas for Daniel to stay were locked behind his teeth, never to emerge. He knew why Daniel needed to go, and agreed with the logic they'd worked out early on, but that didn't stop him from wanting to cling to his soulmate and demand he not leave his side. Tony wasn't that kind of controlling, however, and he was not going to make this last morning harder on Daniel than it needed to be. He could maintain until Daniel was gone, and then he would focus on his own job to get him through the next few months.
They had checked in easily through security, Tony greeting Washington and Meadows by name, as he always tried to do back at NCIS. It paid to know people in low, high, and medium places, and Tony was already filling in his mental rolodex for the Stargate Program.
Now, he was standing demurely beside Jack and Sam as they each gave Daniel one more hug for the road. Nothing was said overtly, but Tony knew all of them were refusing to think that it might be the last time they did so. Intergalactic travel wasn't without its own risks, and Daniel was deliberately flying into a war zone.
Finally, Daniel stepped away from them, gave each of them a last smile, and then tapped his earpiece. "Colonel Caldwell, I'm ready," he said.
A moment later, his body was enveloped with light, and he vanished.
Having used the transporters himself earlier that week, Tony knew it was the Daedalus, not another ascension, but he still caught the tightening of Jack's jaw that said he wasn't okay with the sight. After a moment, Tony let out a long sigh.
"Well, I guess I should get to work," he said.
"I've got to go over Bill's notes for the remote dialing patch," Sam admitted, shifting slightly towards the door.
"I have to… run this place," Jack decided, after looking around at his office.
Tony snorted at his lack of enthusiasm for the prospect.
Suddenly, Sam darted in for a hug. "Don't be a stranger, Tony," she said, her voice a little watery. "I've still got loads of stories to tell you about when Daniel first started here."
"You should have seen the floppy hair," Jack chimed in.
Tony had seen it, in photographs, and he personally thought it was adorable, though Daniel also looked very handsome in his current style. "I will," Tony agreed, though he knew Sam would be busy with the Theta site issues before she had to report back to Area 51. Still, Tony would be traveling there for a recon soon, so he'd see her again, even if she ran out of time on this trip. "You know where to find me when you get tired of looking at stargate code."
Sam huffed out a little laugh, "Yeah, will do."
"Great, you kids do that. Out of my office." Jack said dryly.
Chuckling, Tony took the dismissal and left with a smart, military-precise about face. He had his own department to get back to anyway; one that was finally complete.
o
The next morning, Tony found himself standing in the front of his large courtroom, looking out at his people. Jace and Pamela had wheeled in a portable plasma screen, and that was being patched into Area 51's own courtroom — part of a decommissioned hangar. Another screen patched in the trio training as Agents Afloat in McMurdo.
As the screens flicked on, Tony took in all the faces — familiar now from his time going over each and every file — and then took in those in the room with him. His team was, at the moment, 100% complete, with over 90 people reporting to him across their three locations. He knew, once they established regular contact with Atlantis, that his complement would increase to over a hundred, with another agent and lawyer being added for each new ship that came out of drydock.
That wasn't even counting those above him, like Kendrick and Matthews or Director Morrow, who were also technically part of the SGSI. Tony continued to soak it all in as his people settled down, and once they were basically quiet, he grabbed his agenda and got started.
"Hello people, and welcome to our first meeting of the entire SGSI. I know some of you have only been here a week, while some of you have been embroiled in our insanity for a whole month, but let me take this moment to thank you all for joining up. I know that you all had different reasons, but at the heart of things, we found a group of people who weren't being properly represented by the legal and investigative services that they should be, and we asked you to step up. And step up you did.
"So I want to take this moment, first, to thank you all for dropping your lives and letting yourself get sucked into this top secret black hole, in order to give our service members, civilians, and allies the help they needed." Tony allowed a moment of silence, then got to his first order of business.
"Now, everyone should have their internal email, phone number, and business cards squared away. If you don't, talk to the head admin at your location. Your email should have included the organization chart for the SGSI, our contact list, and the basic handbook we have slapped together with regards to paperwork. Quite honestly, that's a mess, and will probably continue to be one for a little while," Tony admitted, getting chuckles around the room.
"Because of the way the SGSI was initially organized, all of us still belong to our prior agencies, if we had one. This means that technically you should be filling out a redacted form of your normal paperwork to send back home. In practice, we are developing our own forms, which will be filed with Director Morrow at Homeworld, and he will be responsible for a summarized — and heavily redacted — form being sent to your old bosses. That means figuring out what the FBI, or DoD, or NCIS needs to know is his job, and we can just get on with things here.
"As you all know, your initial employment contracts were for a year. I've been given permission to tell you that the powers that be are hoping that, by the end of that year, the SGSI will be its own, independent agency, under the auspices of Homeworld. At that point, when your year is up, you'll be encouraged — though not required — to transfer to that agency. You'll keep all of your federal benefits, and your commission if you have one, but you'll no longer have to worry about former bosses without clearance attempting to harass you, as our NCIS contingent has, or requesting un-redacted versions of your paperwork, as the CIA has, or whatever else we encounter over the next year."
That also got a few chuckles and groans, as Tony had been anticipating. The CIA's interest in the sudden flux of people joining the SGSI was not unexpected, and thankfully Tony hadn't had to deal with it himself, but had neatly lobbed it over the fence into Tom's lap. He knew all the movers and shakers in Washington DC, and would know how to get the various agency directors off their backs, just as he had with former Director Shepard.
"That said, this is all very future information, just for you to let percolate for the rest of the year. Just know that we will be switching to a unified, SGSI set of forms, and that any contact from your former bosses should be kicked up the chain to myself, Kendrick, Matthews, or your JAG equivalents ASAP, alright?" He got scattered nods and agreements, including from the groups on screen, so Tony nodded and moved on to the next thing on his agenda.
"The next request came from multiple angles, which is why I am addressing it today. I had inquiries about the number of treaties that Earth had established, wanting us not to fall afoul of any rules or regulations we should be following. So, I am pleased to announce that those records have been delivered in a harddrive format. Jace has assured me that he and Pamela are able to get them into some kind of searchable database ASAP, and then all of you can read them at your leisure. And yes, we have everything, going back to the first Protected Planets treaty from the Goa'uld summit with Nirti, Cronus, and Yu, through to what the IOA has been doing under wraps regarding Atlantis, the Battlecruisers, and anything else they might be up to. Happy reading." He knew it wasn't just legal who was interested in those documents; the investigators needed to know what might be considered a crime under one of the many treaties in place, and many of his technicians wanted to know if there were specific records they should be keeping. The IOA stuff was especially going to come into play once they formed their teams for Atlantis, but even the battlecruisers fell into a gray area on such things.
"Now, going off world," he said, causing an expected rustle of excited noise. "After speaking to some of you, and the powers that be, a decision has been made. All investigative agents and lawyers, regardless of their assigned location, will be doing the same training through the stargate on how to navigate offworld. This is because at any time you might rotate to a different team, or be brought in to substitute for an injury or illness, and we might not have time to train you at that moment.
"Now that the emergency rush on the Daedalus has been taken care of, we have time to get back to our original plans. The investigators and lawyers will be going out to the Alpha site for a week at a time, in teams of eight, and Cynthia will be emailing you all a form to sign up for your preferred time slot. Bear in mind that you might not get your first or second choice. Someone has to be in the last group, after all. There will be a final group, composed completely of our MEs and forensics technicians, who will be getting their own version of training for working offworld at the Gamma and Delta sites. There are two time slot options for that, but since there are less than 8 of you, it will be a simple majority rule.
"Here's where things get tricky; everyone else needs to attend a one day training session on how to evacuate to the Alpha and Beta sites. This is something that will be included in the week long training, but is necessary for everyone working in the stargate program to know. Since that can be done with much larger groups of two dozen, it was decided that this will be done first, in two batches, to get as many people as possible familiar with evacuating before settling into the specialized trips. So yes, boys and girls, that means that all the admins, clerks, and technicians are going offworld first. Feel free to gloat."
That got him chuckles, and a loud laugh from Abby, and nicely defused the tension of who would get to spend more or less time seeing an alien planet. He also knew that some of their 'dignitaries', like Kendrick, Matthews, and their JAG leaders would also be part of their own evacuation drills, though on a much fancier, VIP version. "As a point of interest, we are apparently on our third Alpha site, second Beta site, and first Gamma site. The less said about Delta's designation as a former plague planet, the better. I have no idea if there have been other letters that I'm unaware of, but I suspect there have been, as we recently added a Theta, which is a little further down the list. Suffice to say that the evacuation drill is something I want all of us to take seriously, since it is apparently a very real necessity." And there he went adding a whole new kind of tension to the room.
"Next, we have quite possibly the most important announcement, which is in regards to healing. Medical got back to me yesterday, after having to bump everything in favor of last minute work for the Daedelus, and I've agreed to go over it with you all." They'd asked if he'd been willing to talk about his own medical issues, and Tony had reluctantly agreed. If his people saw that he wasn't insisting on sucking it up and ignoring his health, then they might be more open to accepting help themselves.
"For this, we need a little story time. As most of you know, I am here by way of NCIS. What many of you might or might not be aware of is that, almost six months ago, there was a biological attack on our main office in Washington DC: the Navy Yard. A disgruntled woman who thought we had ignored her daughter's case — we hadn't, by the way — sent a bioengineered, antibiotic resistant, form of the pneumonic plague to our office. Now, our mail checking systems have since been improved, and I've been assured that the Stargate program has similarly beefed up security. The reason I'm telling you all this is that one agent was unfortunate enough to catch that plague — me."
He expected the gasps and murmurs around the room from those who hadn't been at the yard, or not yet heard the scuttlebutt from those who had, and gave them a moment to get it out of their systems. "While yes, I have recovered to field ready status, my lung function has been permanently decreased, and there are a few other long term problems that have the potential to build up in the future. At least, that was the case before I joined the Stargate program. And here's why I'm sharing this with you. The program has access to alien technology that is capable of feats of healing that regular human medicine can't hope to compare to."
Tony held up one hand to forestall any comments. "I have been assured that they are doing their best to make what they can available to the public as quickly as possible, given the paper trail of testing and trial runs and regulations and whatnot that they face. But the long and short of it is that some stuff will just never be ready for public consumption until this entire thing has been declassified. That means that you are one of a very small number of people who has access to these treatments, and now that Medical has the time, they're offering.
"There is apparently a brochure, which will be emailed to all of you shortly, that lists what you can go and pick up from the infirmary from their 'almost ready for the real world' line. But some things are more limited than that. I've been instructed to tell you about two of them. The first is for relatively minor problems. A bit of scar tissue that bothers you; a trick knee; that back you throw out every year trying to hang the holiday decorations; etc. This hand device can be used by two people on base in Colorado, and one in Area 51, as well as some of our allies who stop in from time to time. If you have an issue of that nature, it is simply a matter of booking time in Medical when one of those people is able to come use the device. As such, their policy is to form a group of people who need assistance and do them in one big batch, to cause the least disruption to the work of those doing the healing.
"The second option you have is one I've been assured is safe, even if it might skeeve you out a little. For those who've been going through the records, you might have found reference to a planet where the people lived for exactly 100 days, at a highly accelerated rate of growth. This also affected the SG teams who visited the planet, through ingesting a kind of nanobot. Medical figured out how to reverse the process and get our people back to the age they should be, and that is the version you're being offered now. If your minor aches, pains, and arthritis are age related, or if you just want to knock a few years off your crows feet and laugh lines, you are all eligible to have a nanobot treatment that again, I've been assured is completely safe and will not turn you into the cryptkeeper.
"Finally, there's the big guns, and this is where my lungs come into it. For systemic problems like cancer, or for problems with severe damage, such as my lungs or an amputation, they have a more radical option called a sarcophagus. Full disclosure, repeated use, to the tune of a dozen times, can lead to sociopathy and other forms of insanity. Good news, extensive testing showed that three or fewer uses over a lifetime were well below those limits. The science and medical teams have also apparently been tweaking the thing since they got it back in year one, and have raised that number to five lifetime uses without any hint of mental issues. The treatment only takes a few hours, after which you will be entirely healed, good as new. Any other minor problems will also be taken care of at that time, so for example I won't need to use the hand device on my bad knee or gunshot scars, because they will be healed at the same time as my lungs.
"Therefore, you've all been given clearance to talk to Medical at any time about signing up for any and all treatments. You will also be able to requisition some of the less impressive stuff from that catalogue coming your way; for example, uber strength bruise balm to keep in your gym bag and home medicine cabinet. Things like that. I've also been informed that the medics can, at their discretion, sometimes offer help to immediate family members — especially spouses and children — but you'll need to talk to them on a case by case basis. So, once we're done here, you're free to look into your options." Tony allowed himself to relax slightly, now that that part was over. He really didn't like talking about the plague, or the function of his lungs — especially around people who needed to see him as capable and competent, not compromised — but Doctor Lam hadn't been wrong when she pointed out that the others would follow his lead. If he wasn't obvious about using the treatments offered, then those who knew of his history would think there was a reason, and be wary of using them themselves. He wanted all of his people to be at 100%, and if that meant disclosing his own weaknesses temporarily, he'd do it.
Now, on to the next thing on his neverending list.
o
Tony relaxed as he sank into the chair in his office. His people were all at lunch, so he was hiding in here instead of in the bullpen to get a little time to himself.
The meeting of the full SGSI had gone well, and there had been a lot for Tony to go over with them. Some of it probably could have been handled in department head and SSA meetings and allowed to trickle down to the rest, but part of Tony also wanted to see his people. He was, as the SAC, responsible for this group of nearly 100 people, and he owed them his attention. They needed to know who he was, what he was like, and that he was open to their needs.
His friends and those he had worked with before knew that, of course, and he was making inroads on the first comers and department heads. But there were others, people here on the recommendation of a friend of a friend, or those who were simply following a name and a promise, who needed to know who's hands they'd placed their lives in.
They lived in a world where they now knew what lurked in the far reaches of space, where evacuation drills to other planets and magical devices that healed you and turned you evil were now a part of their reality. Anyone would be shaken by that, and they needed to see their leader as a real human, caring whether they lived or died or got a snake in their brains. At the same time, they needed to see him as competent and in control, someone who would get them through any rocky starts and safely out the other side.
It was just like having probies, in a way, only he had a hundred of them. Not that they needed him to train them like a probie, but they needed him to be the SFA: to take the hit from above, and to protect their six even when they didn't know they needed it. That's why he wanted the full group meeting, instead of allowing the SSAs or department heads to pass down his notes. He'd probably keep doing it on a quarterly or semi-annual basis, depending on how bad their caseload got, just to keep in touch with everyone. Tony didn't want to turn into one of those bosses who stayed aloof and was viewed as unapproachable.
It had been easier to handle when he had Daniel to go home to each night, but that was something else that Tony needed to be strong about. He wasn't the only one who's soulmate was heading out on the Daedalus, or who was already in Atlantis. And the SGSI weren't the only ones to send a soulmate off to war without knowing if they'd ever come back.
Still, Tony needed this time, hiding in his office with his lunch, to decompress from the stress of his meeting, of saying goodbye to Daniel yesterday, and to coming back to a dark, empty house last night. He was proud of the SGSI and what they were accomplishing, but he needed twenty minutes to himself, before he had to put on his boss face and go be the best SAC he could be.
A knock on the door had Tony looking up, just as Jack opened it and poked his head inside. "Jack?"
"We got a call from the Theta site; they routed someone there who wanted to talk to us."
"Okaaay."
"Well, more specifically she wanted to talk to Daniel," Jack said, voice thick with amusement. "I thought you might want to come see this."
Tony quietly bit back a sigh as he abandoned his lunch and grabbed his gear. It looked like he wasn't going to get those twenty minutes, and he suspected that might become the norm around here. Still, he wouldn't change anything about the last two months, or joining the SGSI, even if it did mean that sometimes aliens interrupted his lunch break.
"Alright, what've we got?"