[email protected]
MEET WITH SHEPPARD re: X-302
To be honest he didn�t know Sheppard, had only been able to tell who he was when the four Lantians stepped through the wormhole because Sheppard was the only American, other than Doctor Weir, to return to the SGC that day. The little flags on their jackets were probably incredibly helpful on Atlantis; back at the SGC it just made the four Lantians stand out even more than they strictly needed to as outsiders in the little SGC world most people inside Cheyenne Mountain lived in.
Landry had read Sheppard�s file from before he left for Atlantis and, though he questioned the decision to let him go with all that was outlined in his record, Landry had to admit that, given his natural ability with the Ancient Technology Activation gene, he was definitely an asset. Giving him a command, however, was not something Landry thought was wise, and he planned to rectify that as soon as he could.
However that wasn�t what the meeting that morning was about. The meeting that was due to start as soon as Sheppard arrived was about the X-302 fighter planes, bastardized fighters of both Goa�uld and Tau�ri technology.
Despite Sheppard�s record, Landry had to admit, the Major could fly.
Anything.
The list of aircrafts he was checked out on�both planes and helicopters�was over two pages long, and the skill with which he flew any given craft was, from what Landry could tell, legendary. It was undeniable: the man was born to fly.
Even the SGC�s golden child, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, had nothing but praise for the Major, though Landry had noticed that the two of them were spending a lot of time together so he had to consider that Sam�s opinions were tainted by something other than professional respect. The SGC grapevine�which was notorious for both speed and dirt-tracking ability�had informed Landry, though indirectly, that Carter and Sheppard had known each other for years, and a quick glance at their respective files had confirmed that they were in the same class at the Air Force Academy.
Landry was just about to try to find Sheppard�s file in the heavily secured hidden cabinet that held the information on Atlantis�very little was left on computers lest the security protocols they had in place weren�t good enough, and paper files were easily disposed of if needed, the Trust having reached so many levels of various world governments that the thought that they might be in the SGC was not a far stretch�when Walter Harriman appeared in the doorway.
�Ahh, Radar, what is it now?� Landry asked the recently promoted Chief Master Sergeant.
�Major Sheppard is here,� Harriman said, ignoring the <u>MASH</u> reference�he�d heard it before, both because of his short stature and because of his ability to anticipate the needs of his superiors; the former he blamed on his parents, neither one being over five foot three, and the latter he simply chalked up to being damned good at his job.
Nodding, Landry motioned for Harriman to let the Major in. Harriman nodded and disappeared from sight and a moment later Sheppard appeared, his posture straightening, though not coming to attention, just inside the doorway. He was wearing his uniform (dark BDU pants, a black tee shirt, and his black-and-grey jacket with Atlantis patch on the right shoulder and an American flag patch on the left, his combat boots clean but clearly well-worn) with his hair doing the same bed-head thing that it had every time that Landry had seen him, and his face was freshly shaven. His eyes were subtly but quickly taking in everything in sight�the exits, potential weapons both defensive and offensive, the boxes, the files, and, finally, the General himself�and, though he seemed quite relaxed, which seemed to be a perpetual state for John Sheppard, Landry could tell that the Major was anything but relaxed. He was, if anything, on guard, as if expecting an attack of some kind at any second. Landry recognized the look�most true warriors had that look, even when in what was supposed to be friendly territory.
Landry�s respect for Sheppard immediately increased.
�I need you to be at Peterson at 1100 hours. There�ll be a C-17 waiting to take you to Nevada,� Landry said without preamble.
�Sir?� Sheppard said, slightly confused.