Cate MacGregor had a long journey ahead of her before becoming the commanding officer of SG-4. Her selection into the heady world of the Stargate Program was just the beginning. There were endless months of training, and let’s not forget the medical tests. While the SGC was still under U.S. Air Force authority (by proxy of the IOA), every new candidate had to endure a rigorous screening process to ensure they weren’t… well, an alien posing as human. Apparently, that had happened more than once. It was during these tests that Cate’s high ATA gene expression was discovered.
"Quite high, actually," Dr. Lam had told her, flipping through a tablet. "On a scale close to General Sheppard’s and just a smidgen below General O’Neill’s."
Cate had blinked at the revelation, then grinned. "So, I am an alien?"
Lam had barely cracked a smile. "We’ve had weirder."
Cate froze. "You’re joking, right?"
A long pause.
"No."
"Bloody hell," Cate muttered. "And here I thought the weirdest part of this gig would be the American coffee."
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After the tests came the deluge of study. Cate found herself drowning in mission reports and alien race profiles, her desk stacked with documents that rivalled her entire RAAF flight manuals. The names of alien species were the worst.
“Who writes these things? Tolkien?” she muttered to the trainee next to her, earning a stifled laugh. Cate’s sarcastic running commentary quickly became a highlight of the otherwise gruelling lessons.
Their no-nonsense instructor, Colonel Masters, wasn’t amused. “Is there a problem, Flight Lieutenant?” he asked, glaring down at her.
Cate didn’t miss a beat. “Just wondering if we get a decoder ring for all these alien names, sir.”
A few more laughs echoed around the room, but Masters’ piercing stare silenced them. “I suggest you focus on the material, MacGregor.”
Cate leaned over to her neighbour, whispering, “Focus? Mate, I’m trying not to laugh at the fact someone called a snake god ‘Apophis.’ Sounds like a brand of shampoo.”
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The real excitement began when Cate was finally checked out for F-302 training. It was late 2007, nearing winter, when she found herself at a secret base in the Nevada desert, staring at the sleek, alien-inspired fighter plane. Beside her stood Captain Brendan Jones, her instructor, who exuded all the charm of a boot camp drill sergeant.
“Right, ‘Flight Lieutenant,’” Jones drawled, making air quotes with his fingers. “Think you can handle this, or should we start with a paper plane?”
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Cate raised an eyebrow. “Paper planes might be more your speed, Captain. But I’ll give this a go.”
Jones scowled. “You think you’re funny?”
“Not really,” she replied with a grin. “You’re just an easy target.”
The sarcasm did nothing to endear her to Jones, who made it his mission to knock her down a peg. Cate, however, had her own plan. During the first few flight sessions, she intentionally fumbled through manoeuvres, letting Jones believe she was barely competent.
“MacGregor, that’s the third time you’ve overshot your trajectory!” Jones bellowed over the comms. “Are you trying to map a scenic route?”
“Sorry, sir,” Cate replied innocently. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the view.”
Jones’ frustration was palpable, but Cate held back her true skills until it was time for the final combat simulations. That’s when the real fun began.
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Cate had a wealth of experience to draw from. She had served with the 121st Fighter Squadron ANG on F-16s during Operation Enduring Freedom over Afghanistan, earning two unit citations. Additionally, she had completed a six-month exchange with the US Navy's Top Gun School as an instructor. Despite her impressive background, she chose to hold back during the initial training sessions, letting Jones believe she was just an average pilot.
Flashbacks of her time in Afghanistan occasionally surfaced, particularly the harrowing incident when her squadron was accused of a blue-on-blue error that resulted in the deaths of several English soldiers. The investigation had been lengthy and gruelling, but they were eventually cleared of any wrongdoing. The experience had shaken Cate deeply, leaving a lasting impact on her.
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The desert sun cast long shadows as Cate’s F-302 taxied smoothly along the tarmac. Jones raised an eyebrow from the rear cockpit, momentarily impressed by her steady take-off. “Not bad,” he muttered, almost begrudgingly.
Cate smiled, her voice calm over the comms. “Thanks, Brendan. Try not to faint.”
Once airborne, the simulated combat drills began. Her first opponent, an F-16, made it almost too easy, executing predictable manoeuvres that Cate countered with textbook precision. She locked on quickly, the simulation registering her first kill.
“Target neutralized,” the system intoned.
“Don’t get cocky,” Jones warned. “It only gets harder from here.”
He wasn’t wrong. The second F-16 pilot upped the ante, employing evasive manoeuvres that tested Cate’s reflexes. The two aircraft twisted and turned in a dizzying aerial ballet, each trying to outwit the other. Cate pushed the F-302 to its limits, skimming the desert floor and climbing sharply to evade counterattacks. Finally, she outflanked her opponent, locking on and scoring her second kill.
Jones exhaled sharply. “Alright, I’ll admit, that was decent.”
“Just decent?” Cate teased. “Hang on to your helmet, Captain. We’ve got one more.”
The final opponent wasn’t just any pilot—it was Colonel Lillian Radovic, one of the Air Force’s finest, with 16 confirmed kills in the F-302. Cate’s grip tightened on the controls as Radovic’s F-16 appeared on the radar.
“She’s not going to go easy on you,” Jones said. “Radovic’s a legend for a reason.”
“Good,” Cate replied, a determined edge in her voice. “Neither am I.”
The ensuing dogfight was nothing short of spectacular. Radovic was relentless, her manoeuvres sharp and unpredictable. Cate matched her move for move, her instincts and training kicking into high gear. The two aircraft danced through the sky, trading the advantage back and forth.
The onboard computer blared a warning: “Terrain. Pull up. Pull up.”
“MacGregor!” Jones shouted. “Listen to the damn computer!”
“Relax, Brendan,” Cate said, her voice steady. “I’ve got this.”
Radovic’s F-16 dived sharply, attempting to force Cate into a no-win scenario. Cate followed, ignoring the blaring alarms as she closed the gap. At the last possible moment, she pulled back hard on the stick, sending the F-302 into a steep climb. The G-forces pressed Jones into his seat as Cate executed a perfect roll, coming out above Radovic.
“Target acquired.”
Cate fired, the simulation registering her third and final kill.
Jones let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You’re insane,” he muttered.
Cate grinned, easing off the throttle. “Maybe. But I’m also undefeated.”
Back on the tarmac, Radovic approached Cate with a nod of respect. “Impressive flying, Flight Lieutenant. You’ve got talent.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Cate replied, genuinely honoured by the praise.
Jones, meanwhile, climbed out of the cockpit looking pale. Cate couldn’t resist. “Oh, Brendan,” she said sweetly, “you’ve got a bit of colour in your face. I thought Marines didn’t scare easy.”
Jones glared at her but couldn’t suppress the hint of a smile. “Just get your report, MacGregor.”
Cate winked. “Looking forward to it, Captain.”
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The report Jones submitted later was glowing, despite his earlier frustration. “Exceptional flight instincts,” it read. “Superior combat skills. Highly recommended for interstellar assignments.” Cate skimmed the document, her eyebrows rising at the praise.
“Brendan,” she said with mock surprise. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Jones muttered, “Don’t push your luck, MacGregor.”
Cate grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” If they thought she had an ego, they were dead wrong. Cate had simply found her purpose in life and she wasn’t about to squander it.