Memorial

Author: Badgergater

Email: [email protected]

Season: 8

Spoilers: anything up through mid-8

Category: Drama

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Rating: Anyone

Summary: He hates giving speeches, but he does them very well.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, SciFi, Showtime, and probably a whole bunch of other rich and important folks that definitely don't include me. This story is for entertainment purposes only; no money was involved, only appreciation for the characters.

Author's Pledge: Honest and accurate information allowing the potential reader to make an informed choice on whether or not to read this fic

Author's Note: Since this was a last minute thing, my apologies if there are errors as it was not beta'd.

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Jack O'Neill had gotten a lot of strange looks when he'd arrived in his office this morning. Dress blues weren't his usual thing. They were, in fact, his most unusual garb. Normally, he was the most informal of generals, preferring BDUs in blue or green with a simple star on the shirt collar the only thing marking his rank.

It was Friday afternoon, and as the day shift drew to a close, he'd called for an assembly in the gateroom.

His people, as many as could be spared from their posts for a few moments, waited for him as he straightened his tie, lifted his shoulders and took a deep breath.

He hated giving speeches. Just thinking about it made his collar itch and his armpits sweaty. Standing up in front of people, even his own people, was hard, but today, for all of them, he would. Purposefully, Jack stepped through the doorway and past the assembled ranks standing at attention.

As he took his place at the podium perched on ramp in front of the Stargate, looking down at the familiar faces gathered there, far too many missing faces flitted across his memory- Doc, Kawalsky, Frank, Elliot, Aster, Barber, Henry Boyd, Rothman, Vaselov--

"At ease." He waited while the personnel adjusted their stances and the rustling ended.

"I know you're all anxious to get home to your families for this holiday weekend. But, before we go our separate ways, I felt that it was important to pause a moment and to honor and remember those we have lost.

"Mere words are not adequate to measure their sacrifice, or to honor it.

Jack paused, and took a deep breath. "Our war is undeclared. It's not featured on the evening news. There are no parades to welcome us home, no ceremonies to honor our return."

"We toil in the shadows.

"We live and die under a cloak of secrecy.

"But we are not forgotten. We remember our own.

"The list of our losses is long. There are far too many names for me to read them all to you today, but we know them, some better than others. Some were our friends. Some were merely acquaintances. Some we hadn't yet gotten to know, but all of them were our comrades in arms. Officer or enlisted, man or woman, young or old, Army, Air Force, Marine or civilian, we remember their sacrifices with gratitude.

"All of you work in the most unique place in the American military. You hold a trust above all others, protecting not just your own lives, your own families, your own country, but your entire world.

"Stargate Command is a place of incredible courage and immense sacrifice, made greater by the necessity that what you do here must be kept secret from your families, your friends, your peers and your neighbors.

"That does not mean it is unnoticed, or unappreciated.

"A great American once said, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

"That is what you do here day after day.

"Thank you."

The General nodded toward the control room, and he could see Walter typing on his keyboard. In a moment, the haunting notes of "Taps" issued from the speakers.

Jack O'Neill snapped to attention, and from the corner of his eye, he could see all of those gathered in the gateroom do the same.

Silence reigned as the somber tones died away.

General O'Neill saluted. The men and women below did the same.

After a long moment, the General brought his right hand back down to his side. In a soft voice, he ordered, "Dismissed."

Very quietly, the SGC personnel filed out of the room.

Jack O'Neill was the last to leave.

-------------The End-----------