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The Security Forces assigned to monitor the SGC surveillance feeds have become experts in video splicing and editing, moving from tape to digital over the years and acquiring proficiency in visual-effects manipulation and CGI. They pass their skills down to new recruits as they rotate in, and cheer on their most talented brothers-in-arms as they separate from the military and go on to high-profile positions at places like Rainmaker and Industrial Light & Magic.
It started when Doctor Jackson returned alive from Apophis's ship and Colonel O'Neill planted one on him right in the middle of the gateroom. Five minutes after the incident, a Marine appeared in the secondary command bunker and said, "You guys are takin' care of this, right?" The officer of the watch didn't even look up from his station as he said, "Something went wonky with the Number Two feed at the 1704 mark. Must've been some kind of residual energy burst from the gate activity. Afraid there's nothing we can do about it." "Damn equipment," the Marine said, and returned to his duty station.
Throughout the third and fourth years, they honed their craft on multiple encounters in the little-used men's room on Level 23 and one instance of fellatio in Doctor Jackson's lab that went down as a pivotal moment in unwritten SGC history. Nobody speculated aloud on why those two personnel would take a risk like that, although each of them had his private suspicions about the events on P5S-381, as well as figuring the colonel and the doctor were well aware by now that Security had their backs. But the FNG pitched a little fit about the regs. The SFs on guard duty couldn't leave their posts, so while the rest of them were working on the tape, they called a couple of Marines in to take care of that for them. Nobody's pitched a regs fit since, and maybe it's because they got a little smarter about vetting the FNGs, and maybe it's not.
The infirmary feeds at the end of the fifth year were a challenge. From the point at which Colonel O'Neill's wincingly faked-for-surveillance 'farewell' words to Doctor Jackson turned into an intimate two-hour unburdening and deathbed vigil for a longtime lover, six different feeds had to be adjusted without a single question-raising inconsistency among them. They'd gone digital only about three months before, and it took the master sergeant and two corporals into the wee hours of the night to loop the audio and make it look as though the colonel had spent most of the time just sitting there in either awkward or supportive silence. They could never thank him for angling his head so that none of the feeds would pick up lip movement that could be read, but they knew he'd done it on purpose, so they figured he knew.
By the eighth year, it was old hat and a piece of cake. Footage of Rya'c's wedding in the embarkation room, recorded by the camera just below the observation window and clearly showing General O'Neill and Doctor Jackson affectionately rubbing shoulders, was cleverly manipulated in close to real time to show no motion in the foreground at all as the ceremony continued beyond it. O'Neill, Jackson, Carter, and the rest of that row of guests appeared to stand with the stillness of attention and utmost respect for the union they were witnessing.
There's been a lot less to do now that General O'Neill's moved on to Washington, although that original watch officer has moved on to the NID and has his hands full every few weeks cleaning up the surveillance from Doctor Jackson's apartment. But the guys who man the monitoring station have some hope that the action might pick up, with Vala Mal Doran and Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell around. Surveillance manipulation in the service of protecting the personnel of SG-1 is a high-level skill set and a proud tradition, and they want to keep those skills sharp.