Auxiliary Control Room, SGC, Terra, Milky Way
Harry sat patiently back and allowed the Airman who was seemingly responsible for sound to affix the lapel microphone to the collar of his BDUs. When said airman was finally done fiddling with it and retreated, Harry adopted a more normal posture and stared with a mild smile into the lens of the video camera not three meters away. His eyes tracked to the slim, jocularly smiling man dressed in a suit, sitting next to the camera who was quickly reviewing notes in a large leather folder. This was Emmett Bregman; a popular documentary maker and investigative journalist.
Harry had no doubt that Bregman was good at his job, but those qualities didn't exactly endear him to anyone within the environment of the SGC. He also had one of those indefinable faces that made you want to bash it in rather violently – a decidedly odd impulse that Harry easily mastered, but it was there nevertheless.
Bregman was here 'officially' to chronicle the one thousandth trip through the Stargate. The real reason was the fact that President Clinton was rapidly nearing the end of his term in office, and had in a masterful display of politics gotten the STO Council to sanction having a classified documentary made for posterity. The President had also reasoned that the Stargate Program really needed to be chronicled visually for historic purposes – after all, there had been cameras on the beaches on Normandy during World War 2, and more recently reporters had been embedded with military units operating in combat theatres on Earth.
From that point of view, Harry understood it, but it didn't mean he liked it. There was also the fact that it could be seen as face saving exercise on the part of the President – he didn't want his name to go down in history as having been part of a massive conspiracy to hide the truth from the world, even if that world hadn't been ready for it.
So Harry decided to bite the bullet and get it on with it, Bregman wouldn't rest until he had an interview from all the major figures in the SGC. Jack's attempts to avoid the journalist, while amusing were quite futile.
"Okay," Bregman grinned winningly. "Are we rolling?"
The airman behind the camera fiddled with it, the red light on the front came on. "We're rolling."
"Air Commodore Harry James Potter, Royal Air Force on secondment to the Stargate Treaty Organization, the foremost Meta-physicist in the SGC, scientist and inventor with quite a few patents under your belt, Earth's Ambassador at large to the Galaxy, uh, well I could go on for a while it seems and according to your birthdate, you're only twenty four?"
Harry nodded. "That's correct."
"I certainly don't recall many twenty-four year olds with such an impressive resume, Commodore."
"One thing you will learn about the Universe when you go beyond the Stargate, is that it doesn't care if you're old enough by Earth conventions for something…you either adapt or you die."
"It's a very Darwinian environment then?"
"Most certainly."
Bregman's voice turned incredulous. "I read here your first time offworld was actually involuntary, that you were…abducted by aliens?"
"Yes, that's how this all began, Mr Bregman. The Goa'uld abducted our ancestors and played Johnny Appleseed with them. Now, I wasn't abducted by them, but by another species."
Bregman nodded. "I see. You were then rescued by the Asgard. Stayed with them and 'fought for humanity' amongst the stars until Earth itself was threatened with annihilation, at which point you joined the SGC and continued to provide aid till this very day."
"Indeed."
"Why?"
Harry frowned in confusion. "Why what?"
"Why come back? Why fight? From my notes, the Asgard are an intergalactic civilization with millions of years of history and advancement behind them. In comparison, Earth is hardly worth mentioning."
Harry's reply was firm. "This is my homeworld, Mr Bregman. I grew up here for the first eleven years of my life. The Asgard may be advanced beyond anything you can imagine, yes, they are my friends and mentors, but they are neither my people nor my culture. Nothing can replace that."
"That's very clear, no equivocation about that at all. Good. Now that that's out of the way, let's get begin talking about the Goa'uld and some others, get your perspective on the enemies that our world faces…"
P3X-666
SG-13 exited the threshold of the Stargate and surveyed the planet they had been assigned. Grass, hills and trees, blue cloudy sky with two moons overhead…standard Ancient terraformed fare.
Major Dixon, the leader of SG13 lowered his PR8 into a more comfortable position. "Okay, Balinsky, which way?"
The archaeologist of the team checked a hand-held scanner and pointed south-east. "That way."
Dixon pointed casually at the two remaining members of his team. "I'll take point. Wells, Bosworth, you're rear guard. Five-meter spread. Keep your eyes open."
Balinsky tucked his nav device into his combat harness. "The MALP showed no indication of any recent Goa'uld activity on this planet, sir."
"I don't see any indication of anything here," the commander of SG13 retorted.
The red-headed archeologist smirked and held up the notebook that the team knew very well. "Take the usual bet on that, sir?"
"Sure. Wells?" he prompted.
"Abandoned naquadah mine."
Dixon snorted in derision as Balinsky eagerly made a note of it. "Boring. But good odds. Bosworth?"
The Lieutenant replied with mock seriousness. "I'm going to put my money on trees, sir."
"Bosworth's disqualified for being a smartass," the Major declared promptly, whilst Wells and Balinsky snickered in amusment, "I'll go with two-headed aliens."
"Hostile or friendly, sir?"
"One head good, one head bad. Balinsky?"
The archeologist shrugged "Oh, the ruins of an ancient city."
"Yeah, you wish."
With that done SG13 set out on their designated scouting route. Wells had only one thing on his brain recently, and it was justifiably freaking him out. Countless men before him had experienced this, and the other three members of SG13 were well used to this topic by now after Wells had received the news a few months ago. Major Dixon, as the only father in the team, was the only one who could meaningfully give sage wisdom on the subject.
"Yeah, all night screaming. Projectile vomiting. Nuclear diapers. You have no idea. The reason they make them so damn cute is so you don't suffocate them in their sleep."
"Sir, you have four kids." Wells pointed out.
"Yeah, why do you think I enjoy my job so much? Don't get me wrong. I love the little buggers to death, but, trust me, having four kids makes going through a Stargate and facing off against alien bad guys look like nothing." He spread his arms out wide, indicating the planet, and by extension the War against the Goa'uld. "This is relaxing."
"Then why'd you have four?"
"Well, one's pretty bad, but you figure you gotta have two, so the little guy could have a brother or sister, right? Then you have two boys, and the wife says she wants a girl. So you figure, "Hell, three can't be much worse than two," right? What you don't realize is, your brain is fried because you haven't slept. After three, four is no big deal. You're so deep in it, nothing seems to matter anymore. It's chaos. You just try to make through each day alive. In the end, you spend all the energy you have left trying to get 'em into bed. Only to lie awake, praying they don't get hooked on drugs, hurt, or worse, wind up dead in an alley somewhere."
"Can't wait, sir." Wells remained stubbornly enthusiastic, even in the face of the negative answer.
"Yeah, miracle of birth my ass. I'll tell you what a miracle is." Dixon smirked knowingly. "Birth control that works."
They broke through a line of dense high trees and shrubbery; onto to stop in shock at the sight before them.
"Well, I'll be damned."
On a massive plateau stretching out before them were distinct plinths and worn down lines of former structures that clearly indicated only one thing…it was the remnants of an ancient city.
Balisnky was stupefied and he eventually recovered use of his jaw to mutter disbelievingly, "I win."
SGC Control Room, Earth, Milky Way
Harry listened with excitement and then concern as Major Dixon and Dr Balinksy reported the events on P3X666 via a MALP transmission. Finding an Alteran city in the Milky Way, be it ruined or otherwise was a big thing; the slightest and smallest artifact could be a potential key to another find on the level of Atlantis. Their subsequent encounter with what sounded to be a weaponized robot probe was the cause for alarm.
Jack stepped into the pickup range of the audio sensors embedded in the main control console. "Do you see anything else worth staying for, Dave?"
On the planet, Major Dixon scanned the surrounding area before looking back into the visual pickup of the MALP. "Hard to say."
Dr Balinsky leaned into the camera. "We need to finish searching these ruins."
Hammond considered this for a few moments. "How long?"
"A day or two. Maybe more."
"It would be nice to send an UAV. At least get an aerial overview," Daniel suggested.
"Permission to remain granted. I'll send SG-3 as back up. Any sign of further threat, you get out of there immediately, Colonel."
"Understood, sir."
"I really think Sam and I need to examine that probe, General. We need to know if it managed to get off a transmission before it was totaled," Harry suggested.
"Send the device back and report in on the hour," Hammond nodded to the visual sensor.
"Yes, sir. SG-13 out."
Dixon switched off the MALP feed and the wormhole promptly shut itself down. General Hammond moved to leave but Jack gently intercepted him. "Sir…um, it's not that I don't appreciate…"
"I knew Bregman was headed your way, and I thought you might be looking for an excuse to get away, Colonel."
"I thought as much, sir. And I just wanted to express my deep and unyielding…love for you, sir."
Harry snickered into his hand. "Jack, you're going to run out of ideas and good Samaritans eventually."
Jack was about to indignantly reply when Colonel Tom Rundell appeared in the control room, looking distinctly aggrieved. The tall mustachioed man had drawn the short straw in being assigned to be Bregman's babysitter and making sure the journalist didn't step into any area he had no business being.
"General, if you have a moment, Mr. Bregman would like a word."
Harry did not envy the General the coming conversation so hurried out the room with Sam and Teal'C in tow to receive the probe that SG13 had disabled. They carried it up to her lab to begin the analysis.
The device itself was made of a trinium-naquadah alloy, and had a vague insect-like design, a rounded body with a forward facing scanning strip, and tendrils hanging from the end. Currently it was in two scarred pieces and Sam carefully opened a torn section to reveal a bowl interior with various colors of crystal jutting out in perfectly spaced intervals. Harry began attaching interface leads to those crystals in the hope of reading the data stored on them.
Sam looked up and began typing extremely fast on her laptop. "You two ever seen anything like this?"
Teal'C scrutinized the device. "I have not."
"Nor have I, but this metallurgy is definitely Goa'uld," Harry waved his hand held Scanner over the remains.
"I've got an interface program established…downloading…huh, it's definitely a remote probe. The storage capacity of the memory crystals is immense, but so far, all I've found are detailed images of the ruins. You know, it makes sense. We use a MALP. Why wouldn't the Goa'uld?"
Teal'C nodded. "The Goa'uld are scavengers. It is quite possible they got the idea from us."
"So, you do your interview with the documentary crew yet?"
Harry quirked a grin at her. "Yes, I treated it like when you have to pull off a plaster, better do it quickly…you'll feel less pain."
"Oh…and you Teal'C?"
The big guy grimaced. "Indeed."
"You know, I have to admit, I can't wait to hear what everyone else said."
"Well, then I hope you enjoy listening to an hour of me explaining why our enemies are our enemies," Harry exhaled explosively. "Honestly, what is so hard to understand about the fact that we can't afford to have any Goa'uld survive – they're all genetically power-hungry megalomaniacs who wont rest until we're all either dead or enslaved under lash of whip, and don't even get me started on the Wraith. I had to show Bregman the pictures from my time in Pegasus before he would admit that we would have no choice but to genocide both as a matter of sheer survival. So what do you say, Teal'C?"
"I did not say much."
Sam's lips quirked in amusement. "Really? That is surprising. It's usually so hard to shut you up."
Teal'C raised both his eyebrows at her sarcasm. "I found the entire experience unpleasant."
"They want to talk to me again."
"Did your interview not go well, either?"
"Well, I thought it was fine. But apparently, I looked…nervous."
Harry and Teal'C shared knowing looks. "Hmmmm."
They continued with the work for a few frustrating hours, trying to coax more relevant data from the probe.
Harry moved the interface leads to various other crystals in sequence, trying to get better data. It wasn't easy as quite few were rather damaged by the damage SG13 had inflicted on it, finally…"Bloody hell, its system log seems to be isolated on a separate crystal from memory control."
"Odd design," Sam mused as the data in question started to pour down the screen of her laptop. Harry leaned over to read it.
"Its technical readouts mostly, power levels, navigation…shit."
"What?"
"See here," he pointed to the relevant line of Goa'uld text, "that's where it encountered SG13. It activated shields and weapons, in addition to a long range communicator."
888888888
SGC Control Room
The Stargate was dialed as fast as was possible and a wormhole established back to P3X666.
"Colonel Dixon, this is General Hammond, we have reason to believe the Goa'uld probe sent out a subspace transmission prior to your disabling of it. I'm ordering you to return to Stargate Command immediately."
"Roger that, sir. Estimate arrival time fifteen minutes. Dixon out."
"Shut it down."
Sergeant Walter Harriman nodded and keyed in the sequence, cutting power to the Gate. Harry stood anxiously next to the General as they both watched the official time clock mounted above the observation windows.
"Sir, even if SG13 bugs out in time, I don't think we should abandon this site to the Goa'uld. This is an Alteran ruin, General, it may contain clues to other hidden sites in the Milky Way, and especially if this is Anubis' forces; we can't let it fall into his hands."
"That would require us possibly taking on Anubis' fleet and ground forces simultaneously."
"I doubt he'd dispatch a fleet just to investigate and secure a ruin that might prove to be useless. Anubis is still in a major offensive against the System Lords. At most we'll face a single Ha'tak or a group of Al'kesh, which a Destroyer can easily take on."
"We also face that same dilemma Commodore. Is this ruin worth fighting for?"
"Perhaps it is, but on the chance that it's nothing, perhaps this is an opportunity to test and utilize the SWORDS. That will mean no loss of life, at least on our part."
Hammond nodded thoughtfully. "All four Destroyers are in Sol, how long to P3X-666?"
Harry did the mental math quickly. "It's twenty three thousand light years, about seventy six odd hours."
The Stargate abruptly sprang to life and after barely twenty seconds a wormhole formed.
"Receiving SG13 GDO, Code Red, Sir."
SFs poured into the Gate room and knelt aiming for the event horizon as the Stargate defenses were shut down. Dr Balinsky appeared, his back turned to them as and PR8 aimed at the wormhole. "We've got Jaffa on our ass!" He hurriedly vaulted over the railing of the ramp to get out of the line of fire.
Wells and Bosworth was through next, the former being held up by the latter. The instant they had their wits about them after the ride through, they dropped to the ground.
Two Jaffa appeared next and before they could even let loose a single blast from their staff weapons, they were dead with multiple plasma and bullet holes.
Colonel Dixon finally ran through backwards, keeping up his fire into the wormhole until the Shield snapped on.
"We need a medic!"
The on-call med team rushed into the Gate room once all weapons were lowered, and attended to Wells, who had apparently taken a staff blast in his lower back. His AW armor had kept it out, but it had given him a bad blow to his spine.
Hammond and Harry rushed into the Gate room. "Colonel Dixon, report!"
Dixon took a few seconds to get his breath back. "A company strength of Anubis Jaffa, General. Dropped into the theatre by about eight Al'kesh. No Kull."
"Dr Balinsky!" The archeologist hurried over at the summons. "You've examined those ruins the most. I want a bottom line assessment. Is it worth securing?"
"Definitely," the lanky red head answered without hesitation. "I barely scratched the surface with my translations of the inscriptions on those ruins, and I can already tell you it mentions another location of importance to the Ancients within the Milky Way."
Hammond turned to Harry. "Secure us a beachhead, Commodore. I'll have Odyssey ordered there immediately."
Orbit of P3X-666, 4 days later…
Odyssey burst out of a hyperspace window. Her sensors immediately detected eight Al'kesh, two landed on the planet below, whilst six remained in orbit providing space superiority. The Al'kesh lacking the powerful sensor arrays of a Ha'tak had not had advanced warning of Odyssey's approach, and as such were woefully out of position and spaced all around the planet in random patrol orbits.
The closest Al'kesh to Odyssey' emergence from Hyperspace had just enough time to register the threat before two neutron beams slammed into it, destroying its shields before a third beam speared the ship right through its own power core, causing it to explode in flash of liberated energy and a brief fireball that was snuffed out both by the vacuum of space and the flame using up all the oxygen in the Al'kesh itself.
"That's our free lunch done, now for the hard work ladies and gentlemen," Colonel Emerson, the 'Captain' of Odyssey told his Bridge crew. "I want intercept courses for the remaining Al'kesh, fire up the Phalanx Interceptors."
The five Al'kesh rapidly moved on their own intercept vectors to attack Odyssey. They had their powerful plasma bombs, but their range was limited, as they used momentum from the bombers and the launcher itself to direct the course of those bombs. Meaning that the Al'kesh; a scout vessel designed primarily to attack other Ha'tak and ground support, found themselves unable to get within range to deliver those powerful bombs.
Multiple neutron beams tore through them before they could even orient their bow mounted cannons onto Odyssey. The Phalanx Interceptor found itself with nothing to do. The two Al'kesh that had been on the ground, now desperately trying to escape barely made it past the planet's thermosphere line when seven neutron beams from Odyssey gunned them down with extreme prejudice.
The company of Anubis Jaffa; now alerted as well to what was happening formed up in the Alteran ruins, to fight to the last man if need be, and make the Tau'ri pay in blood for possession of it. Unfortunately, the Tau'ri had no intention of playing fair.
"Alright we have space superiority." Emerson turned to his Weapons officer. "Signal Earth and begin SWORD deployment."
The Stargate exploded into life with its usual flare of exotic plasma. The wormhole first carried the discus shaped grenades that detonated and killed the six man Jaffa team that had been guarding it. Next through the wormhole came a continuous encrypted subspace radio signal that controlled the devices which were right now being beamed onto the battlefield by Odyssey.
They stood barely eighty centimeters high, a meter long, and trundled along on all terrain tracks. They had a sharp, sloping appearance, armored with enhanced Chobham that now included trinium in the design and yet further protection was provided by the Firestorm shield system. In a small dome on top was an omni-directional multi-spectral visual sensor to allow its operator full visibility on the battlefield, no matter what conditions. It was armed with an integrated PR8 on a 360 degree turret and was directly powered via the man portable Naquadah Reactors housed inside each Sword.
Their official designation was Unmanned Ground Combat Vehicles or UGCVs. Seeing as that was rather a mouthful to pronounce, the codename 'Sword' was given after a vote was held between the STO engineers who had designed the thing.
Twenty five Swords appeared in the first wave, and they instantly started to receive input from their designated operator via the signal coming in from the wormhole.
They advanced forward with the speed of a running man, their turrets tracking and scanning for targets.
The first Jaffa who spotted a Sword didn't know what to make of the small machine at first; was it a smaller version of the unarmed Tau'ri probe devices? Then he saw the turret that rotated unerringly to point directly at him. A three shot burst of blue plasma announced a near revolution in the way war would be fought in the future. Men and women would still go through the Stargate to explore, trade, engage in diplomacy and fight the enemy in surprise encounters…but in planned ground operations, casualties were a thing of the past.
Only six Swords were disabled in the Battle for P3X666, when the Jaffa concentrated their staff fire to overpower the shields and managed to do enough damage to render the UGCV inoperable.
Back on Earth, the men and women from SG1, 2, 5, 13, 14 and 15; sat back from the operator consoles in the SWORD Control room on the twentieth sublevel of the SGC and struggled to come to grips with this new reality of warfare. They felt both relief – that the chances of never coming back home to their families was reduced considerably, and somewhat cheated, there had been no excitement and no adrenaline rush from engaging in this form of remote combat.
Colonel Dixon shook his head in disbelief, stretching his fingers and sitting back from the keyboard and mouse controls integrated into the Sword control station. "Hmmph, next thing you know they'll have my son down here playing 'Shoot the Jaffa.' This felt like one of his FPS games."
Wells winced as his back twitched. "I'm just happy that I'll get to go home to my wife."
Harry got up from his own station and walked over to Teal'C. The big guy looked to be in one of his very pensive moods.
"It doesn't feel very honorable, does it?"
"Indeed, Commodore Potter."
"When you get down to it, there is nothing honorable about war. That mystique about what is essentially a very dirty business only encourages yet more death and misery. The Jaffa you killed with the Sword device could have surrendered to live another day, but their fanaticism made that impossible. So we must do what is unfortunately necessary."
Harry nodded to the rest of SG1 and walked out of the Sword Control room, only to run into Mr Bregman.
"Com…Commodore!"
Harry sighed wearily. "Yes, Mr Bregman."
"I just wanted to thank you…th-the footage you gave me was…well, it will help me tell the story."
Harry nodded. He had come to conclusion that the only way to get Bregman out of everyone's way quicker and to make the President happy was to just bite the bullet and give the man access to the visual data of all the events and battles he had participated in whilst wearing the chromesuit. "Just make sure you portray the unvarnished truth and I can see you perhaps being invited back in the future. The schedule for going public with the STO is well within your lifetime."
As expected the man looked like he was going to wet himself with excitement. Harry chuckled as he left the journalist who was lost in his own world and kept muttering, "Stargate updates on the nightly news."
Alteran Dreadnought Briseus, L3 Lagrange Point, Lantean System, Pegasus Galaxy
"Now that is impressive." John Sheppard stood on the Bridge and took in the sight before the Briseus with an appreciative grin.
"You are looking at the pinnacle of Lantean stationary weapon platforms," Captain Herodotus opened his eyes, emerging from the Cyberspace of the Briseus. He considered himself a ship captain first and foremost. The second in command position of Atlantis was an honor, but it wasn't the call of his heart. As such he had jumped at the chance of captaining a fine ship such as the Briseus for a time.
Their current mission was a result of a detailed survey done of the Lantean System using Altantis' recently restored Long Range sensors. It had discovered that amazingly one of the System Defense Satellites was still intact. Herodotus wondered what would give the Wraith cause to leave it alone.
Rodney was at one of the holographic sensor interface stations, eagerly looking at its readings. "This thing is enormous. It's slightly bigger than a Goa'uld mothership." John nodded in appreciation. The satellite had a very ornate, geometric design, with multiple decahedral spines bristling in every direction, radiating outward from a central core.
"This was one of ninety such satellites that picketed this orbital line. It was the last potent defense that stood any hope of beating back the Wraith." Herodotus shook his head gravely in memory.
"What are they armed with?"
"Each spine is armed with a projector weapon that fires a gluon particle beam that also produces a limited warping in space-time along the length of the beam. A Wraith Hive ship can be sliced in two with a single shot."
Rodney was goggling alternately both at Herodotus and at his sensor station after hearing that. "How the heck could the Wraith beat you if that was the kind of firepower you were throwing against them?"
"The weapon has a number of problems that prevented it from wide scale implementation on our warships. When fired, the gluons produced had a tendency to accumulate in the power conduits connected to the projector if it was fired numerous times. If it wasn't purged immediately they would damage the power systems. The weapon itself is also quite large and resource intensive to produce, we would've had to build a ship around the Gluon Projector to bring them to bear against the Wraith fleet. Therefore it was decided to mount them on defense platforms instead."
John nodded remembering the masses of anti-baryon bolts that a Hive ship could produce. "Ah, so rate of fire was its downfall. Are there any energy readings from the satellite?"
Rodney checked his console. "Uh, nope."
"So it could be just out of power?"
"Yes, and it has some damage," Herodotus brought up an enhanced visual of a central section of the satellite, overlaid with a structural scan. "A number of central power conduits are damaged if not destroyed; probably by gluon accumulation, only a single secondary conduit remains, it's definitely repairable. We could then use Briseus to accelerate it through controlled Hyperspace bursts into Lantea orbit."
Rodney frowned at his station suddenly. "Huh, that's odd, I'm detecting very weak subspace radio signal, something in the ultra-low frequency range."
"Where's it coming from?"
"The third terrestrial planet in the Lantean system, its orbit places it within a few hundred million kilometers of our current position. Oh boy, it's a distress call…" Rodney turned to them, his face pale. "A Wraith distress call."
8888888888888888888
Briseus
General Theron absorbed the news stoically; her image on one side of the omniview Bridge merely folded its arms.
"Wraith? In this Solar system?"
Rodney nodded. "I know. Celestially speaking its right in our back yard."
"We figure the Lantian satellite shot the Wraith ship down in the final battle for Atlantis."
"And it's still putting out a signal after thousands of years?"
"It's a very weak signal. If any part of that ship is intact, the wealth of scientific and military knowledge we could acquire is invaluable."
"Captain Herodotus?"
"I agree," nodded the Alteran. "However, we must be extremely cautious in exploring the wreck and very well armed. My scan of the vessel indicates it's a supply variant of the Wraith Cruiser. It's entirely possible there are still Wraith alive in that ship."
"After ten thousand years?" Rodney exclaimed incredulously.
Herodotus was unfazed by the skepticism. "Wraith hibernation combined with periodic feeding on any humans that the ship has stored in its numerous preservation pods would allow them to while away many millennia at a time."
"So we go down there with a team of Marines loaded for bear," John nodded at the Captain's point.
"Alright. Proceed with extreme caution, and check in with me in two hours."
888888888888
Lantea III
John and a team of five Marines appeared with a flash on the semi-arid surface. The Lantean sun beat down hard through the atmosphere, and he was rather glad he was in a full chromesuit at the moment. Any length of time under that and he was sure to be peeling skin after a few hours.
"Alright Sergeant, take point, our target is a kilometer away to the south, there might be powered down automated defenses we can't detect."
"Understood, sir."
John took his place on the flank of the unit formation and they began a light jog towards their target, keeping their eyes peeled and PR8s tucked into their shoulders in ready to fire posture. The run was uneventful and the occasional dune and soft sand made it slower going than normal. Finally, they went prone just before the lip of a hill and crawled carefully forward to observe the Wraith ship that had clearly crashed into the depression below. The thing had taken one hell of a hit from that Gluon weapon.
"I'm seeing skeletons near an egress hatch in the ship, sir," reported one of the Marines.
John focused his eyes and spotted what the Marine was pointing out. "I guess everyone didn't die in the crash. Anyone getting any lifesigns?"
"Negative, sir."
"That might not mean anything; in hibernation they don't register on lifesign scans, so keep frosty."
They paused at the egress hatch and his AI helpfully informed him that it detected faint power readings now, probably what was powering that weak distress signal. John raised his PR8 and led the way into the typically blue ghoulish interior of the Wraith vessel. With its life support systems down, there was none of that ever present mist at ground level, not to mention a lot of sand had found its way inside. Shortly afterwards, they came across the mummified corpse of a Wraith sitting up against a wall, covered in cobwebs.
"This guy looks like he just lay there and died."
"It seems rather fresh, Major Sheppard," the Sergeant pointed out.
"Yeah, we've definitely got a vamp on the loose here, Beckett will want samples, watch my back." He knelt down and brushed away some of the cobwebs over the corpse's face, it became clear that the Wraith didn't die naturally – it had the appearance of something which had been drained of its life energy.
"Okay this is different," the Sergeant commented. "Wraith cannibalism."
John had materialized the sample kit they all had been forced to carry by Dr Beckett exactly for such occasions. "Probably as a last resort. I guess some of them tried to survive as long as possible."
When he was done they headed deeper into the core of the ship. That was when they found a very large domed chamber, with organic stasis pods squeezed into every nook and cranny, each one filled with a human body.
"Well, it is a supply ship."
John had to force himself not to act when his AI bleeped a warning and projected a lifesign scan on his HUD.
'Alright folks, scatter and blast it…now!'
John whirled around with all the speed he could muster and triggered a three shot plasma burst towards the ceiling where the rather ragged looking Wraith had been hanging to ambush them from behind. The Marines joined in a moment later.
"ARRGGHGH!"
The Wraith fell to the ground as the destructive plasma exploded around his position. It launched itself forward, hoping to bowl over one of the Marines, but it was met with five blue plasma bolts which flung it backwards against the opposing corridor's wall.
They carefully advanced closer to the 'dead' Wraith.
"Why are we still getting a lifesign signal?"
The answer came as before their eyes the plasma burns on the Wraith healed. It abruptly sat up and screamed. It was the cue for the Marines and John to unleash their weapons on full auto into the thing. John kept his aim for the head, and eventually there was nothing more left of the Wraith than a few scorched meaty fragments.
John was rather thankful he didn't have to smell that. "Is it dead now?"
The Sergeant toed one piece of the Wraith's head gingerly. "I think so, Major. How on earth did the thing do that? The Wraith normally go down with a single kill shot from a PR8."
"Maybe the cannibalism thing gave it a stronger healing ability," John theorized, then grimaced. "I'm going to have to take more samples. We finish a sweep, and then McKay can come down here and do his thing with the computers."
888888888888888888
Orbit of Proculus, Pegasus Galaxy
Puddle Jumper One raced as fast as its engines could propel the small craft, the reason being the two Wraith Darts on their tails and firing their weaponry in bursts towards the disguised Alteran spacecraft.
At the controls, John's mind was fully immersed in the cyberspace of the craft, guiding it through evasive maneuvers with his focused thoughts and will, only using the manual controls for personal preference.
Lt Ford, seated behind him winced at the deadly blue energy missing them by mere meters. "I recommend shooting back any time now, sir."
"The first hit has caused some damage. McKay."
Rodney vaulted out of the co-pilot seat and into the back of the craft to access the maintenance panels. "I'm on it."
Teyla was clutching at her own chair in frustrated fear that she could not affect the outcome of whether they lived of died. "Where did they come from?"
"She's right. The Darts are short range fighters. There's probably a hive ship around here somewhere."
The Athosian's voice was insistent. "Then we need to get out of here."
"Yes we do," agreed John, turning the Jumper on a heading towards the other side of the planet, where the Stargate was currently orbiting. He rotated the Jumper's attitude so the 'ceiling' was facing the planet, and pulled 'up' lowering the altitude enough to try and go for a gravitational slingshot manoeuvre to aid their speed.
"Now we're taking the scenic route. McKay?"
Rodney was frantically fiddling with the crystals and tapping on his TabletPC. "I'm almost there." The Jumper shook as a baryon blast tagged the hull, thankfully, the Alterrans had long since modified the hull composition of a Jumper against such weaponry in their long war with the Wraith, but it wouldn't last forever.
"There's one on our tail!"
"Thank you. I know all about that one. Keep your eye on the other one."
McKay finished his frantic work with relief. "Okay. You should have weapons now."
John concentrated on the weapons systems and still got back an error message blurted back in the Ancient language that he didn't understand. He was so going to pay more attention in Language Class in the Atlantis Academy. But he understood the gist of it.
"Nope, still not working."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
Rodney's voice took on an almost childish tone of annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I fixed it."
John winced as another shot clipped them. "Well obviously you didn't!"
"Perhaps we could lose them in the atmosphere of the planet." Teyla suggested hopefully.
"No, there's two more coming in at two 'o clock, they're going to try and cut us off. McKay!"
Rodney was now even more frantic in his repair efforts, if such a thing was possible. "It's not like I'm holding back on you!"
That was when John detected a sheer astronomical amount of energy suddenly appearing out of nowhere. The Jumper's sensors did the computer equivalent of saying 'Not a clue' as to the nature of the energy, although visually it looked like someone had taken a lightning storm, concentrated it into a massive arcing ball of destruction that bore down with frightening speed upon the duelling spacecraft.
"Hang on!" It was all warning he could give before the lightning ball enveloped the area…destroying all the Darts in a second, it passed over the Jumper…
…nothing. It just made it slightly brighter in the cabin, before the electricity ball or whatever it was just sped off into the distance and vanished.
He turned with a perplexed look on his face. "The Wraith darts have all been destroyed."
Ford let out a sigh of relief. "Oh that's a good thing."
Rodney walked back into the fore compartment, his face ashen. "I thought for sure we were dead. Anyone think we were dead?"
Ford asked, more to the point. "What the hell was that?"
Rodney shrugged his shoulders as he sat down. "Some sort of energy weapon."
"Well what do you say you run a scan of the planet, and find out?" John instructed pointedly.
Ten minutes of scanning later whilst they had come within spitting distance of the orbital Stargate, Rodney could only say. "So just to confirm we're all still definitely not dead."
John shook his head. "I knew that McKay, I would rather like to know about the Space lightning that just saved our collective asses."
Ford frowned at that. "Lightning in space, sir?"
"That's what the Jumper's visual sensors recorded."
"I already said it's some sort of energy weapon. One that apparently destroys Wraith darts. Well assuming that we're still alive...and there doesn't seem to be any damage as a result of the pulse, I think we can safely conclude that ah...um...um...I got nothing."
"Could something like that be...naturally occurring?" Teyla ventured curiously.
John stared thoughtfully at the planet below. "My money's on not naturally occurring."
"Like a weapon the Lanteans left behind? I think Captain Herodotus would've mentioned that in the Briefing, sir."
"He doesn't know everything that happened or was done back then, Lieutenant. But the more important point is a weapon that powerful has to be powered by…"
Rodney's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "A Zero Point Module. Right well we need to get down there."
"I got to put down, check for damage anyway...before we head back to Atlantis."
88888888888
Jumper One landed cloaked a kilometre away from the largest grouping of lifesigns on the planet. And it was one that looked distinctly like a paradise from what the sensors and his own eyes told him. Lush forests, mountains, grass lands surrounding massive lakes. There didn't even seem to be a single desert on the planet either, with the only uninhabitable parts being the frigid polar regions.
They were crouched in a copse of trees on top of a hill overlooking a large picturesque village where people dressed very liberally in brightly coloured leathers and robes went about their daily lives; washing clothes by hand, doing trade with a variety of handmade goods, children were playing gaily. Using both his eyes and chromesuit's HUD, he zoomed in and noticed that many of the adults were adorned with tattoos in an almost traditional Northern American fashion.
Ford turned to his commander. "If there's a weapon down here sir, these folks didn't build it."
"Yeah, I figured that, let's introduce ourselves. Weapons out of sight." With their PR8 stored in the chromesuit matter storage, they headed for the village.
The first to see them was a man wearing a red robe, he gasped for a moment, but then hurried off. The people nearest to them all stopped what they were doing and looked with confusion at the strange beings that had approached their village.
John tried to look as unthreatening as possible. "Hi. It's ok...we're friendly. Hi."
"It is likely they have never seen anyone from outside their village, let alone beings from another world."
Another man, this one older with slightly receding hair, blue eyes and very healthy skin was also dressed in a red robe and with more detailed tattoos. He approached wearily but nevertheless had a smile on his face. "Welcome. I am Zarah. One of the abbots of Proculus."
"John Sheppard. This is Teyla, Aiden Ford and Rodney McKay. We are beings known as Terrans."
"Please come," Zarah's weariness faded as he led them to the largest hut and bid them to sit at a low table. The various villagers all crowded around the hut in ardent curiosity, especially the children, it was almost cute to see. "This is the first time - at least in my own lifetime - that people such as you have come to us."
"I would imagine so," John nodded. "We do not come from this world."
Zarah's eyebrows arose in amazement. "Another world?"
Teyla explained kindly. "From among the stars you see in the night sky. We are peaceful explorers."
"Well then glory to Othara for bringing you here safely."
"Othara?" Ford asked curiously.
Zarah frowned. "The provider and protector of all. Surely you know."
"Othara is known by many names among the stars, Zarah."
"Our purpose here is that we wish to offer our thanks," John really didn't want to get into a debate on comparative religions. "We were attacked by the Wraith and would have been killed had it not been for the intervention of…something or someone on this planet."
"Wraith?"
John raised his eyebrows at Zarah's incomprehension. "Pale skin, sunken eyes, suck the life out of you with their hands."
"We have never encountered such beings."
"And there is no mention of them in your history?" Teyla asked incredulously.
"None. I can assure you that for many thousands of years we have lived here in peace."
John exchanged pointed looks with his team. "Could you excuse us for a moment?"
"Of course please…" Zarah motioned for them to remain seated. "I must tell the other abbots of your arrival before we go to meet with Chaya."
"Chaya is?"
"The high priestess of Othara." Zarah made some sort of ritual sign at the mention of the name. "This is a great day for our people." He left and promptly shooed away the crowd for the team's privacy.
John shook his head in wonder. "This is big."
Teyla nodded fervently. "I agree Major. Every inhabited world I have encountered in this galaxy has been ravaged by the Wraith."
"Well this planet is protected by a Lantean weapon. This confirms it."
Ford was sceptical of McKay's claim. "Does it?"
"Well there's no other explanation. I mean the power requirements of something like that must be...astronomical. Only a ZPM could generate that."
Teyla stared thoughtfully at the people. "And yet they do not appear to be technologically advanced..."
"Unless that guy was lying. But he doesn't seem like the lying type."
"He wasn't lying, I would know," Rodney pointed out.
"Yeah so...automated defenses?" John theorized.
"Imagine a world where displaced refugees from dozens of planets could come and live in peace without fear of being culled by the Wraith."
Ford nodded at Teyla's reasoning. "Maybe we could negotiate some kind of treaty..."
"We just get access to that weapon. Studying it has to be a priority."
"Let's just try and stay on our best behaviour," John glared at Rodney.
"I'm always on my best behaviour."
888888888
With the abbots gathered they escorted John and his team away from the village for quite a few kilometres, through open fields, woods, until they approached a mountainous area, and started to climb a very long winding set of steps that led up to a beautifully built monastery built halfway up the mountain.
"Chaya sure does live pretty far from your people." John commented to Zarah.
"The solitude is to assist Chaya in communing with Othara."
He nodded in understanding that was pretty common practice among religious clerics on Earth as well.
When they entered the monastery proper, there in a truly beautiful garden was a woman wearing form hugging white robes that contrasted sharply with her sun drenched near-flawless skin. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders that glistened in the afternoon sun and wise hazel eyes was currently focused on the plants that surrounded her as she carefully tended to them.
John could only stare in awe.
"Glory to Othara," Zarah bowed to Chaya.
"Welcome. You may rest." Chaya nodded with a pleasant smile on her lips that seemed to be glistening of their own accord.
"Thank you sister."
The abbots moved off and entered the monastery itself through a set of ornate wooden doors. That was when Chaya turned her attention to John and his team.
"You're new to Proculus."
John shook himself out of his stupor. "Yes. We're...uh...we're brand new in fact." He held out his hand. "Major John Sheppard."
Chaya demurely took his silver covered hand and he inwardly cursed the chromesuit for a moment. "I am called Chaya Sar." She glanced at his hand curiously before relinquishing it and looking at the others, "and you are...Teyla…" Ford and Rodney stiffened as they felt the mental brushing of another mind against their own. Chaya looked away and held up her hands. "I apologize for that. I was not aware you possessed the Gifts."
"Do you always intrude on the thoughts of your visitors?" Rodney asked unpleasantly. "I'm Doctor Rodney McKay, by the way."
"Lieutenant Aiden Ford."
"Pleasure to meet you, again I apologize, it's a habit and I only tried to get a sense of your identities, nothing invasive."
"Anyway, It's a pleasure to meet you too, Chaya" John nodded.
"You must be tired after your long journey. Shall I prepare some tea for us?"
"I was hoping you were gonna say just that."
88888888888
John had spoken at length about the Wraith at Chaya's request and that they were working on various fronts to stop them, whilst they drank the tea through the straw that chromesuit helpfully provided them.
"And where do they come from these...Wraith?"
"They seem to be everywhere in this galaxy. And they appear to have been on top of the food chain for a very long time." He dipped the straw to take another drink.
"It's terrifying. Truly terrifying."
"The Wraith have awakened from a long sleep...and this entire world is safe from the mass culling that has already begun. It is our hope...that you could grant sanctuary here on Proculus." Teyla asked hopefully.
John explained. "Our base in this Galaxy is secure and hidden, but it is not large enough to act as a safe haven."
Chaya raised her eyebrows in astonishment. "Sanctuary...for so many?"
"Well...we're not talking about everybody in the galaxy showing up at your doorstep. The planet is very big and largely uninhabited."
"More importantly it's protected by that weapon of yours." Rodney looked at her knowingly.
"Weapon? I'm aware of no such thing on Proculus."
John eyed Chaya uncertainly. "You sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Oh please..."
John whispered snappishly. "Rodney. Best behavior."
"This is as good as it gets, Major. Chaya, the only reason we are alive is because of a powerful energy weapon that emanated somewhere on the surface of this planet, it destroyed the ships that were shooting at us. That weapon is what's keeping the Wraith away."
"No Doctor McKay. It was Othara who protected you."
"Othara."
"Yes Othara saw you were in need."
"Chaya..." John began uncertainly, "there are a lot of people who are in need because of the Wraith...What you have here-what Othara has provided you with here is a very rare thing. But we have a lot to offer too...That's what friends do they share. I think we could help each other."
"I understand. I shall consult with her now." Chaya stood but waved them down when they stood as well. "Please stay here, I don't know how long this will take."
John nodded. "Thank you."
When she had left and entered the monastery. Rodney sighed incredulously. "You aren't seriously entertaining the notion that God blew those Wraith out of the sky to save us?"
"Not directly," John temporized. "But the Jumper's sensors couldn't make heads or tails of what it was. That should tell you something."
"Huh, those sensors should detect anything of Lantean origin…I mean why would they build a weapon system that their own sensors couldn't detect. Something as sophisticated as a weapon that selectively destroys Wraith ships but leaves ours without a scratch…"
"My point exactly, keep thinking about it," John sat down on the grass and leaned back using his hands as pillow and staring up into the perfect blue sky.
88888888888
When Chaya and a few of the monks returned her face of regret told the story. John stood quickly with others. "Major. We have relayed your request to our divine mother and though she does not doubt the righteousness of your mission...I am afraid she cannot countenance any other people but hers settling here."
Rodney scoffed. "And you really had to chant all that time to come up with that."
"Mckay." John glared.
Teyla hung her head in sadness. "Is there any way we can ask Othara to reconsider?"
"Othara understands and sympathizes. These Wraith are a scourge among our stars but she has to place the lives of her people first."
"Well I think we both knew what you were going to say long before you even went in there," Rodney shook his head.
Chaya looked to the ground, but John could see she was clearly unhappy with the situation as well. "We prayed for Othara's guidance."
"And what did Othara say? You're hiding behind your religion to justify your complete and utter selfishness. There is no way that your Othara and the Supreme Creator is the same."
"Rodney..."
Zarah glared at the scientist. "We ask only to be left alone. And in peace."
"So... untold thousands possibly...millions of people will die out there when they could have been saved. How very very peaceful of you." Butter wouldn't have melted in Rodney's mouth.
"You should be grateful to Othara," Chaya was very angry now, but still wouldn't raise her head.
"This is a waste of time, Major." Rodney shook his head.
"Othara regrets that she cannot help you."
"And I'm sure those were her exact words."
"That's enough! Head back to the jumper. I'll be there in a minute." John had lost his patience completely at this point.
"Why?"
"Because you're not helping."
"Yes, sir." Ford gave a quick salute, giving Rodney a threatening look. The three headed off out of the garden, whilst the abbots left as well back into the monastery.
John leaned on the stone balcony at the edge of the garden, looking out at the beautiful view. "I apologize."
Chaya moved closer. "He acts only in accordance to his beliefs as do we."
"I have only one question," John sighed and looked pointedly at Chaya. "Why would an Ascended Alteran interfere in the corporeal realm and be allowed to protect this one planet and its population from the Wraith? Why is Othara allowed to do that?"
Chaya's eyes widened in surprise. "I – I don't know what you m-mean."
"Please don't lie, Chaya. Our ship couldn't understand the energy used to destroy those Wraith ships…and an Ascended Being intervening explains that quite nicely."
Chaya sighed and her shoulders drooped. She looked so…sad and lonely.
"I so wish I could've seen Atlantis filled with life again, doing her purpose, but the Lanteans amongst you would recognize me."
John nearly fell to the floor from astonishment. He had thought that Chaya was an evolved human who represented Othara…and he had not once mentioned Atlantis at all. This could only mean…
"You are…you are Ascended?"
Chaya nodded. "When I was a mortal, I lived here. This was my home. When we ascended, we were supposed to leave behind us all human ties. Some of us found that difficult."
"So you couldn't stand by and watch your people getting wiped out by the Wraith."
"When their terrible fleet approached, I lashed out with my mind and with a single thought destroyed them all. The others of my kind did not approve of such interference in corporeal matters. And so I was exiled. My punishment was the unending protection of this world."
"Why pretend to be corporeal at all?"
"So that time to time I may walk among the people - know them as the good and kind souls they are. For thousands of years, I have come and gone to the villages, never staying too long to get attached to anyone. I am permitted to safeguard my people, but my people only. This is my punishment. This is what makes it punishment. If your people came here for my protection, the Others would stop me. Do you understand? I can never help you or Atlantis."
John laughed humourlessly. "You know I've studied up on the matters of the Ascended, well as much as my people have experience with you guys. I must say…those 'rules' of yours they…suck."
A reluctant grin came over her beautiful features. "That they do, for those of us who at least retain a sense of responsibility towards the…mess we left behind in the physical plane."
"Well, you may not be able to help…but I could come and visit if you don't mind…the guys upstairs can't deny you at least that basic personal liberty."
Her smile grew wider. "I'd like that."
West Wing, The White House, Washington DC, Terra
Newly elected President of the United States, Albert Gore Jr and Stan Greeves walked down the familiar and rather well decorated interior of the West Wing on the way to his new office. He had been here many times before to visit his former boss, but for obvious security reasons the Vice President and President weren't kept in close proximity to each other by the Secret Service. They were currently walking down the memorial corridor, which held the portraits and busts of past Presidents. Al Gore didn't spare them a glance, more intent on listening to his Press Secretary.
"The Nikkei dropped eight percent last night. The Yen continued it's free fall. Also, the President of Togo was deposed about six hours ago. He managed to get a plane to Nigeria. Now he's calling for American troops to help restore order."
"I'll tell him to speak to the African Union. It might be new, but with the South Africans as its teeth in diplomacy and military, the AU's got much more legitimacy in handling it."
"Yes, Mr. President. The New York Times is about to launch an investigation on all the problems Florida had with its elections. I've got Teddy on it."
Al Gore shook his head. "Honestly, how hard could it possibly be to make a Voting machine that's simple to use? I find myself longing for days where we just write an X next to the picture of your preferred Presidential candidate on a folded piece of paper, that's it."
Stan nodded emphatically. "I agree, Mr President. Also, there's a storm in the Atlantic about to hit the coast of Maine. They're expecting gale force winds and twenty inches of snow. Emergency management teams are standing by, but we've scheduled a call to the governor for 10:00, so you can pledge our support."
They walked into the outer offices to the Oval Office. The secretaries rose immediately as he entered. "Good morning," Al nodded with a smile.
Stan paused at the last door, the famous 'not-so-hidden' north-east door. "The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is waiting for you in your office."
Al Gore nodded and wondered for a moment why General Francis Maynard was here, he'd already received the Top Secret Briefing from him. It was then that he noticed that the Army Four Star was not alone, standing next to him was another military officer in formal dress…and if he wasn't mistaken he was from the Royal Air Force.
The President took a deep fortifying breath before striding into his new place of work.
He smiled at the tall Army General. "Francis!" They shook hands.
"Mr President," Maynard nodded. "This is Air Commodore Harry Potter of Her Majesty's Royal Air Force."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr President." Potter held out his hand for a shake as well.
"So am I, Commodore Potter." The President sent a questioning look to Maynard.
"The Commodore is here to assist me in bringing you up to speed on a program that's been running out of Cheyenne Mountain for the past seven years." The President gestured for them to sit on the couches on either side of the stitched Presidential Seal.
"Haven't I already had a Top Secret briefing? Or does the Commodore's presence indicate that we're talking about an International program?"
"Yes, Mr President. The program is multi-national; to be specific it involves over eighty countries." Maynard handed over a file folder marked 'Classified'.
Al's eyes widened at that number, whilst opening the folder. The first thing to catch his eye was a large symbol; a solid ring with a thick dot in its centre, in the background an unfinished triangle with a small circle above it. Underneath was written in English; 'Stargate Treaty Organization'.
Stargate?
"Mr. President, for the past seven years, the United States Air Force and other allied militaries has been sending teams to other planets by means of an alien device known as the Stargate."
It took a few moments for that statement to sink in and by the dead serious looks on the faces of the two men before him…
"The Nations of the world - this Stargate Treaty Organization - have been sending people to other planets."
"Yes, sir."
"For the last seven years."
"That's correct."
"By means of an alien device."
Maynard nodded. "Known as the Stargate."
Albert Arnold Gore Jr sat down behind the President's desk, his mind not knowing what to make of what was just told to him. Finally, "Assuming this isn't a very well acted joke…tell me everything."