Of Gate Techs and Goa'uld By:afg Rating: All Ages. Category: Angst. Spoilers: 'There But For The Grace Of God'. Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made. Written for the Gateship Wednesday Shorts TBFTGOG Challenge. He remembered thinking once that it would be so cool to run around in full combat gear, toting an automatic weapon. He'd been a geek, all his life, and when he'd joined the Air Force he'd done his weapons training like all the other raw recruits and had discovered, to his immense disappointment, that he really wasn't cut out to shoot guns. His instructor had told him very loudly and at great length what he had thought of his marksmanship. However, since being drafted to the SGC his G.I Joe fantasies had been re-awakened. Well they had until today. Today, he was running through the corridors of the SGC holding his long desired weapon, and it didn't feel at all like he'd thought it would. First of all the gun was heavy and his hands were sweating, he couldn't aim properly because those sweating hands also shook. He wasn't in combat gear, just a stiff cumbersome Kevlar vest over his V-neck and shirt and tie, he even had his second best dress pants on and his shiny shoes, that he'd polished so carefully this morning. What surprised him most of all though, was that he was frightened. Him, Walter Harriman, Mr cool as a cucumber behind his station in the control room; he supposed that control was the operative word. Out here in the smoking tunnels, with people he knew being killed around him, he had no control at all. It came to him that very probably he was going to die today, and that everybody he knew would die too, He'd been at the SGC since the very beginning, he was strangely glad that he would be here at its end. He could see General Hammond and a few men at the end of the corridor, under heavy fire. Suddenly his hands were steady and dry as a bone. It was time to show his old weapons instructor just how well he could shoot. It was a real pity about the combat gear though.