Stargate: First Contact

[BrotherBenny]

An occasional posting that I am considering, based on reader response.

-----------------------------------------

PROLOGUE

Giza Plateau
Egypt
March 23rd, 1928
Wearing the traditional robes of his people, the man watched as fifty or so people worked to pull the massive stone object into an upright position. He was too far away to make out more than indistinct shapes, even with his excellent eyesight. The stone object, he knew, would be tested in as many ways as these people could do so, but he estimated sixty years before they would be able to understand it. There were a few people who knew him regardless of his wish to be left alone and one of them approached him now. It was a young girl in her early teens. Her father was part of the project to raise this stone device from the ground. She walked into the shade and sat cross-legged on the sand, watching him.

‘You know what they’re doing, don’t you?’ she asked. He raised an eyebrow. ‘You have been coming to this spot for three months, before anything was uncovered. You know that stone was there, didn’t you?’

He knew that she would see through his practised lie, so he told the truth, part of the truth anyway. ‘Yes, I knew they would uncover the stone.’

Her eyes narrowed and she held up an amulet. ‘Since you know so much about the stone, maybe you can tell me what this is.’

He took the amulet and examined it closely. Immediately he saw that the chain was not part of the original piece. It had been added later. It was not an amulet, but a House insignia from a distant place. ‘Where did you find this?’

‘Buried under the stone,’ she replied.

The man raised an eyebrow. ‘I must leave you. Keep this amulet safe in your possession. Let no one know you carry it. I will return to you and I will show you its origin when I return.’

She stood. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I must confer with my friends. You will not be here when I return.’

She seemed to realise that he meant this as a statement of fact and not an order for she ran back to the group of people raising the stone from the desert floor.

The man walked for an hour before he was sure that he was not being followed. He had walked into the desert proper where no ordinary person could survive. Looking around one last time, and spotting no one, he reached into the fold of his robes and pressed an unusual-looking brooch. ‘One to beam up.’

Six seconds later he was no longer in the desert but standing on a platform several thousand miles away. He stepped down and turned to face the five people gathered in the room. ‘It is as I feared. They have already been to this world. These people fought back and buried the gateway several thousand years ago.’

‘Our cousins are making impressive inroads,’ the oldest of the five said gravely. ‘What should we do to combat them?’

‘I will keep in contact with someone and assist them as best I can without revealing my true self or our origins. Our people will help the humans prepare.’

‘Is that wise, Skonn?’ asked the youngest of the five.

‘Perhaps not wise, my young friend, but necessary. If the humans were to discover the truth about us and our cousins, I fear they would kill us all. They are not yet old enough to distinguish us from one another.’

The youngest, almost forty, nodded his acceptance.

‘We are safe here for the moment but I think that is unlikely to last. We will need to return to the homeworld shortly for more equipment and supplies.’

‘I will go, Honoured One,’ the youngest replied.

Skonn nodded his assent and the man went to make his preparations, a slight smirk on his face, obscured by his robe.

‘What did you see?’ asked another of the five.

‘A House sigil from the Praetor himself.’

Eyebrows rose from all, except the young one who knew all too well what was found. Skonn knew who he was and still allowed him to make the journey. The man knew he must inform his superiors because the fact that the sigil was found meant someone had failed and the Praetor did not tolerate failure. The Emperor tolerated it even less.

‘If you will, excuse me, I must meditate.’

Skonn retired to his quarters and thought back to the young woman who would shortly be forced to grow up. He knew that he should not interfere, but he must limit any further damage done to these people by his cousins. They would come in secret to find the sigil and destroy it, along with any trace that they had even been here, at least until they were ready to make themselves known.

The next sixty years were going to be arduous, of that he was sure.

 

[Gibraltar]

Interesting premise, with the Romulans apparently taking the place of the Goa’uld. I’ll be curious to see where you take this.

 

[rontlv]

Hi,
I'm new in this forum, and I've been reading around and wondering where do you people post your stories?

 

[Gibraltar]

Hi,
I'm new in this forum, and I've been reading around and wondering where do you people post your stories? I've tried AC, Helium hubpages and what not. I absolutely hated them because they had poor fan fiction if you can call it that, and they pay miserably. I'm currently publishing all of my writing on link removed if anyone has herd of them I'd love some feedback. I'm not really a fan fiction writer, I just love to read it. heres a link to My link removed. Take a look, I have some really funny stuff there. Anyways what I'm trying to say is that I make some great money from writing for Triond, they per page view and get me great promotion. What I would really like to see is the fan-fiction section filled with your stories.
Thanks

Those of us who belong to United Trek post here: http://www.unitedtrek.org/

Some of us have also posted at Trek Writer's Guild, fanfic.net, and more recently at HopeStation.net, and others have our own individual websites that host our stories.

There's a lot of good quality fanfic out there if you know where to look.

FYI, this question would be more appropriately hosted on it's own thread, rather than cluttering up Xeris' storyline. Just a friendly word of advice to a welcome newcomer.

 

[RevdKathy]

Identical posts in two theads = spam - I'm going to pass on the warning for now, rontlv as you're new. Gibraltar is right about it having no place in someone else's story thread too, added which I believe what you're advocating is illegal for fanfic.

 

[BrotherBenny]

Interesting premise, with the Romulans apparently taking the place of the Goa’uld. I’ll be curious to see where you take this.

Thanks, I wasn't sure if something like this could work. Seems like at least one person likes it.

 

[BrotherBenny]

CHAPTER ONE

47th Annual Egyptology Conference
San Francisco
January 19th, 1990
It was not a popular subject among Egyptologists even though there was growing evidence to support the theory. The only problem was that the little evidence that currently existed was of questionable origin. Doctor Zephram Cochrane was an expert in the Roman Empire and had been invited as a last minute replacement for another speaker. This had been his best opportunity to explain his theory in full but the six-hundred seat auditorium was now emptying fast and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

‘As you can see from these slides, there are numerous examples of Roman sigils having been adopted into the Egyptian hieroglyphic system some five thousand years before the Roman Empire as we know it came to exist. It is my belief, and that of my esteemed colleagues, that the Egyptians did not build the pyramids, but that some form of the proto-Roman Empire was responsible for doing so. In this next slide, you can clearly see that the House sigils for the Roman Emperor are interspersed with the hieroglyphs for the Pharaoh Aha, or King Menes. This places the Roman civilisation some three thousand years before it was previously known.’

There were only a handful of people left now and they were collecting their belongings together. One man looked at him pitifully and strolled out as another sniggered. ‘The Romans didn’t build the pyramids, Doctor, there is no other evidence of that type of architecture anywhere else in their history.’

Cochrane knew that this was a possibility. ‘Can you say for definite that the Egyptians built them in the absence of any evidence of their writings?’

‘Perhaps you should take a closer look at Professor Robinson’s work on the pyramids,’ the man said and exited the auditorium.

Cochrane gave up and shut down the slide projector, removing his slides and packing them into his briefcase. Beside his briefcase was a carryall with the majority of his books that weren’t kept at the storage facility. The rest of his meagre belongings were in the suitcase underneath the carryall. The eviction notice served by his landlord that morning, and his ridicule here, made his day complete. He would have to find somewhere to live but with no current income that was going to prove difficult. His only option was to secure more grant money for this work and he knew of no one who would be willing to foot the bill. Cochrane looked up to see a completely empty auditorium and picked up his belongings, heading for the exit.

The driving rain of San Francisco pelted his mercilessly as he returned to his apartment building to collect the rest of his work-related belongings. The door was ajar and he dropped everything to the floor to push the door open wider. Sitting on the faded red leather chair was a woman in her seventies with a tired smile on her face. She was looking through his diaries and making unusual sounds that could have been approval or laughter.

‘Can I help you?’ Cochrane asked.

The woman looked up and Cochrane recognised her instantly. ‘I am Catherine Langford. I see that you recognise me.’

‘I must say I’m surprised that you would be in my apartment,’ Cochrane stammered, at a loss for words. He ran his fingers through his unnaturally white hair.

‘You were evicted this morning. Everything you own is in those bags outside,’ she replied. ‘I have been following your career for some time.’

Cochrane grimaced. His career was nothing more than a few lectures at a handful of universities and a couple of dry science books that no one paid any attention to. ‘And what have you learned?’ he asked, sitting down in the creaky recliner opposite her.

‘Your theories are sound if a little light on evidence but you have the strength of your convictions, if little else.’

Cochrane nodded, having heard the same thing a number of times before. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I’m here to offer you an opportunity to prove your theories,’ she replied, standing up. ‘Make up your mind and I will see you, or I won’t.’

She left his apartment and he stood and walked over to the desk. Sitting on it was a cloth back on an envelope. He undid the cloth bag and pulled out what looked like an amulet, except it wasn’t. The chain was not original to the piece and the piece itself was a Roman sigil from a prominent Family, judging by the weight. As an expert in the field, he should have recognised it, but he didn’t. The sigil was from a family which he had not come across before. Cochrane turned it over to have a look at the reverse and almost dropped it. There was a signature in hieroglyphs. He picked up the envelope and withdrew its contents. It was a first class air ticket to the Pacific northwest.

His mind was made up. He needed to follow this through.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Interesting...not so much a crossover as a 'fusing' of Trek and Stargate. I'm curious to see where this winds up.

 

[Mistral]

Thit is really interesting. I like the "You have the strength of your convictions" bit-a la Daniel Jackson and Catherine. Its good so far-and like David said-a fusing. A much better approach than an obvious "cross-over".

 

[A_C_C]

What Mistral said

 

[BrotherBenny]

Thanks guys

I didn't want to do a crossover, it's been done before.

I wasn't sure this would work but it seems to be. I should have the next bit up tomorrow. I'm actually off work this week - YAY!! - so I'll be catching on my TV shows and doing some writing, and plenty of reading of course.

Fusion fan fiction, new genre

 

[BrotherBenny]

Military base codenamed Area 51
Groom Lake, Nevada
January 20th 1990
Still dressed in his standard robes, Skonn watched Catherine Langford materialise on the transporter pad. She stepped down and nodded to him to follow her. He allowed himself a slight smirk at this role reversal. As a young woman, he had been her teacher in all things alien, and as she grew up she and her father amassed a large fortune much of which was diverted to the Langford Foundation after her father’s death in a car accident. The Foundation’s public mandate was to unite the people of the world in a common goal of exploration. Its private mandate was simple, to prevent the invasion which he assured her was coming. Together, they had expanded Area 51 from its simple beginnings as a USAF test site to a secret bunker for the Foundation’s private work.

‘Did he agree to assist you?’ Skonn asked.

‘I believe so, though I had to break my promise to you and leave the amulet in his hands.’

Skonn raised a speculative eyebrow. ‘Was that wise?’

‘Perhaps not, but I believe that it will be the impetus for him to join us. You implied that there was someone you wished to add to the team,’ Langford answered.

‘Yes, a young astrophysicist called Lily Sloane. If my hypotheses are correct, you will need her expertise.’

‘If?’ she looked up. ‘You’re letting us uncover this at our own pace, but the Air Force want answers and soon.’

‘They will have them, I assure you.’

Langford sighed. ‘Are you sure that contraption is safe, I feel like I need to lie down each time I use it.’

Skonn withdrew a small device from within his robes and waved it over the philanthropist’s torso. ‘You should lie down. I will speak with your doctor.’

She nodded and went down a branching corridor.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Skonn touched the small brooch attached to his chest. ‘The transporter is malfunctioning. The Heisenberg compensator is breaking down and the annular confinement beam is seven microns out of alignment.’

‘We don’t have any more replacement parts, Ambassador,’ the person on the other end replied. ‘The device was not designed for such extended use without regular maintenance.’

‘Since it is likely that our future no longer exists, we cannot expect replacement parts. Is there any possibility of you utilising technology from this time period to effect repairs?’

‘It is possible, but unlikely since the level of miniaturisation does not exist as yet.’

Skonn was silent for a moment. ‘I will consult Ms Langford, she may be able to point us in the right direction.’

A forty-something woman approached Skonn and inclined her head toward him. ‘Ambassador, Gary sends his regards and asks if he could have some assistance regarding that assignment we spoke about.’

‘Ms Lincoln, I will be speaking to Ms Langford shortly. I shall ask her then. In the meantime, please be careful.’

‘We shall,’ she replied and strode off.

Skonn watched her leave and hoped that history repeated itself. He knew that he would never see his parents again, but he believed that they would find his behaviour in keeping with their ideals in making sure that history continued on the track it was intended to. Both Spock and Saavik had dedicated their lives to the Federation and Starfleet, as he had, and he knew without a doubt that they were both dead because of his sundered cousins’ machinations in the future and the past. Perhaps his alliance with the Foundation would resurrect the future in some fashion that he had not foreseen. It was a worthy cause to work toward and he really had no other option since he was stranded in this past.

‘Ambassador?’ Langford asked as she approached. ‘You looked lost.’

‘Lost in thought,’ Skonn replied and raised an eyebrow. ‘I had not considered asking before now, but why do you and your people call me “Ambassador?”’

‘You did say that you fulfilled that role for the Vulcan Assembly.’

Skonn nodded. ‘I was the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, as my father was, and his father before him, and my namesake before him.’

Langford frowned. ‘I thought our peoples were not allies?’

‘They were not. My people believed themselves to be superior but there were enough politicians on the Assembly who wished to ally themselves with Earth that an ambassador was needed. My father is half human.’

‘I didn’t know that. You have not spoken much of your past.’

‘That is because it represents your future and I do not wish to press you in any particular direction.’

She nodded. ‘I can understand that, though I must ask why you continue to help us.’

Skonn raised an eyebrow and considered his answer. ‘When I was first stranded here I saw your people as children who needed to grow up. Your technological advancement is fast compared to other races that I am aware of, but you do tend to be careful with them, except in some circumstances.’

‘War is a profitable breeding ground for technological advancement, but the public face of the Foundation is intended to put those people to work for a different reason.’

‘The betterment of one’s self is a noble goal, but ultimately fruitless unless there is something to strive toward.’

‘I agree, which is why I am pushing for a resurgence in the space program. If I can get America working harder for a lunar base, then other countries will follow suit in the spirit of profit and competition. It is not ideal, but competition breeds cooperation.’

‘Agreed, I have a request to ask of you.’

‘Name it.’

‘Ms Lincoln needs more manpower and resources to help combat the growing threat in the Middle East. It would seem that Singh is no longer content to control his own territory but wishes to expand.’

‘She can have whatever she needs. Singh’s enhanced breeding program and his megalomania could set the Foundation back decades if he succeeds.’

‘You will need to do something with his people if they survive. Even a maximum security prison cannot hold them.’

‘NASA is working on a prototype deep space craft. I have already appropriated one for my use. Perhaps it could be used.’

‘An excellent suggestion. If you’ll excuse me, I need to meditate.’

‘I need to prepare for Doctor Cochrane’s arrival.’

 

[Mistral]

Roberta, huh? And Gary. Cute, real cute. I hope you are keeping your Rise and Fall copies close at hand for reference. Will we be seeing Flint?

 

[BrotherBenny]

Roberta, huh? And Gary. Cute, real cute. I hope you are keeping your Rise and Fall copies close at hand for reference. Will we be seeing Flint?

Unfortunately I only have Rise and Fall volume one, still looking for volume two and I just brought loads of new books, so will have to wait.

But we're going to be in 1990 for a while I think, unless I jump 18 years, so there's no need for major references to Gary and Roberta. Although I could include Robert McCall =

 

[trampledamage]

Very interesting...

I like how you've got the Trek background merging with the Stargate foreground for the story. (if that makes sense!)

 

[Gibraltar]

Intriguing connections between the Romulan Empire and Earth's Roman Empire. I appreciated the mention of Gary Seven and Roberta, as well as Khan Singh.

Keep going!

 

[BrotherBenny]

Langford Foundation Annex
Missile Complex
Bozeman, Montana
January 22nd, 1990
The silver SUV pulled up to a gate where two armed guards wearing military fatigues stood sentry. The SUV’s occupant showed her identification to the guards and the gate was opened for her to pass through. As she drove up the rough forested road, she reflected on the classified information she’d been given on the place mere hours before. In the 1980s, the missile complex had been owned by the US military but when budget cuts forced its closure, it was brought by the Langford Foundation for a classified sum of money. Usually the military wants to know what buyers are using their land and former munitions depots for, but they seemed to have ignored this one for whatever reason. The African-American halted the SUV at the entrance to the complex where five other vehicles were currently parked. She recognised the black sedan as the one parked outside her apartment the day before.

Another fatigues-clad guard opened the door and led the way to what appeared to be an office complex. The guard signalled for her to wait while he entered a conference room and she took a moment to glance around. The office area was sparsely decorated and the only adornment on the walls was that of science and science-fiction related framed images. Everything else looked like standard government- or military-issue. The soldier returned a moment later and gestured for her to enter. He stayed outside. Inside the conference room were three people, a man wearing thick desert robes, a fifty-something man in country clothing and an old woman. It was clear who was in charge.

‘Doctor Cochrane, may I introduce Captain Lily Sloane, United States Air Force.’

‘Captain Sloane, Doctor Zephram Cochrane.’

The two shook hands. ‘Nice to meet you,’ they echoed.

‘I’m glad you both decided to join us. From this moment on, you will not have any contact with the outside world unless it is absolutely necessary. Captain, you’ve been assigned to me here and it has been cleared at the appropriate level. What is said here in this complex does not leave this complex without my express authorisation and rest assured I shall not give it.’

‘I’m used to secrets, Ms Langford,’ Sloane replied, smoothing down her uniform. ‘I would like to know exactly what I’m doing here though.’

‘I expected you would,’ she replied. ‘In 1928, my father uncovered a large tablet in Giza. That tablet is still a complete mystery to us. Doctor Cochrane is here to help us explain it, as are you, Captain.’

‘My expertise is in Egyptian and Roman culture,’ Cochrane said, slightly confused since even though he’d been there almost a full day, he had learned nothing of any consequence.

‘I’m an astrophysicist, how could our respective fields interact?’

‘Ambassador,’ Langford turned to the robed figure.

‘The writings on the stone tablet are in both Roman Latin and Egyptian hieroglyphics. What Doctor Cochrane has thus far been able to translate leads us to believe that your expertise will also be needed.’

‘What does the tablet say?’

‘A million years into the sky is Ra, sun god; sealed and buried for all time; stargate,’ Cochrane answered Sloane. ‘The only problem with the translation is that a third of it is in Roman Latin, the last part in particular, which refers to the stargate.’

‘So what you’re saying,’ Sloane replied incredulously, ‘is that Ra was an alien from another world that travelled to Earth through this stargate but it was then buried?’

Cochrane looked to Langford for guidance. ‘Essentially, yes.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ she sighed and sat down.

‘How do you explain this,’ the robed figure replied, pulling down his hood to the astonishment of all present.

Sloane blinked in surprise and cocked her head to get a better look. ‘What are you?’

Cochrane tried a different approach. ‘Where do you come from?’

‘Regretfully, I cannot answer either of those questions. But if you both succeed, you will discover the answer to both questions. I must ask that you keep my identity a secret when you do succeed.’

They nodded.

Langford tried to move things on. ‘Captain, if you’d like to get settled in, I’ll have a guard show you to your quarters. I would appreciate it if you could assist Doctor Cochrane with the translation of the other symbols on the tablet.’

‘There are other symbols?’ she asked. ‘Let me see them.’

With Langford leading the way and the Ambassador taking up the rear, the quartet left the conference room and took a lift eight levels down. When they emerged, Langford directed them to the right and down a long corridor. At the end of the corridor, which had a number of colour-coded pipes running its length, there was a set of double doors guarded by a stocky man in an Air Force uniform. Sloane saluted him as they went past and he returned it with a cautious glance.

Cochrane headed straight for his cluttered workstation and Sloane stared at the immense tablet before her. She recognised the fact that there were in fact hieroglyphics on the outer track, followed by what was clearly Latin, although it looked far older than Roman civilisation.

‘How old is this?’

‘About ten thousand years, according to the radiocarbon dating analysis,’ Cochrane replied offhandedly. ‘If you direct your attention to the vertical inner track, you’ll see the other symbols. They don’t correlate to any known cultural language.’

Sloane squinted at them for a moment and then ascended the metal staircase which had been erected in front of them. ‘They look familiar to me, but I can’t say why. Have you run them through any computer algorithms to look for links?’

Langford uttered a grunt. ‘Unfortunately, Captain, my resources are not infinite, and I have not been able to procure another supercomputer yet.’

‘This is a missile complex, did the military not leave it here when you acquired the place?’

‘They did, but that was nearly ten years ago. I have only started using this place recently. If you could get the supercomputer running, then we could have an easier time of translating the tablet and organising all our data.’

Sloane smiled. ‘I’m an astrophysicist, I think I get a supercomputer up and running.’

Langford and the Ambassador exchanged a significant look. ‘Excellent.’

‘Doctor Cochrane, I believe a little healthy competition is in the offing.’

Cochrane looked up. ‘All I need is a little inspiration. That supercomputer needs a lot of work.’

‘We’ll see, Doctor,’ Sloane replied with an impish grin. ‘I think I’ll get settled in, now.’

 

[Mistral]

next part please! You left me very interested in what comes next-this reads so hauntingly familiar yet unique at the same time. Cool!

 

[BrotherBenny]

Langford Foundation Annex
Bozeman, Montana
February 5th, 1990
Zephram Cochrane looked up bleary-eyed from his latest academic binge and stared at the empty coffee pot as if it held the answers he sought. Across the cavernous bay at the other workstation, now wearing civilian clothing, Captain Lily Sloane was also slumped over her desk. She was using her laptop, now hooked into the complex’s supercomputer, running dozens of algorithms—though so far it had come up with nothing. On the other hand, he was in the same boat, having coming up with a similar amount of useful information. The Ambassador, an alien called Skonn, and Catherine Langford dropped by daily to get an update on their progress. The answer was always the same, and it was not heartening. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and grabbed the coffee pot.

‘Yes please,’ Sloane replied in a muffled voice from her desk.

‘Still nothing?’

‘I’ve been running the language simulators for two weeks and nothing is working. I believe you’re right in thinking that this isn’t an Earth language. I just don’t know what it could be.’

‘Well, it’s got to be something that humans would recognise, otherwise there would be no point in having the information. Besides, they still haven’t shown us what was underneath the tablet.’

‘You think there was something?’

‘This is a cover stone, Lily, it was covering something,’ Cochrane said. ‘Try running some other algorithms, the periodic table, math equations, DNA, stuff like that.’

Sloane blinked at him. ‘I didn’t think of that.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m gonna put some coffee on, want some?’

‘Please.’

Cochrane left the bay, the coffee pot swinging at his side, and headed for the mess hall. There weren’t many people there, it was still early, but someone had brought in the day’s newspapers. He put the coffee on and then began flicking through the papers to see if there was anything of interest going on in the outside world. People were dying from famines and droughts, countries in the Middle East were still fighting and the rumours were still circulating about this criminal super-organisation controlling that region and led by an enigmatic Sikh called Khan Noonien Singh that no one had ever seen. He glanced over to see the coffee pot filling up and grabbed two papers as an afterthought before heading back to the bay.

He filled two cups and handed one to Sloane who took it gratefully, inhaling the strong aroma. He wandered back to his workstation and started reading his paper. Something was nagging at the back of his mind and he looked over to see Sloane doing exactly the same, half-reading her paper.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said suddenly, and Sloane looked up.

‘What?’ she asked, instantly alert.

‘Give me that page,’ he said, running over to her. ‘Have you got a marker pen?’

‘Yeah, here,’ she handed him one and saw that part of the page was a scientific photograph of the Orion constellation. ‘What have you got?’

Cochrane joined up the stars of the constellation and handed the page to her. ‘Look at the third symbol on inner track.’

Sloane ran up the stairs and placed the newspaper to the side of the symbol. Cochrane joined her, hoping for confirmation. ‘You did it!’

‘I take it by your jubilation that you have worked out the symbols on the inner track?’ Skonn asked, entering the bay.

They both jumped but Cochrane nodded. ‘The symbols are constellations.’

‘Fascinating,’ Skonn replied, raising an eyebrow. ‘What do the constellations represent?’

‘I think they are an address of some kind and the stargate is some kind of interplanetary travel device,’ Sloane answered.

‘I see.’

‘Do they have it?’ Langford asked.

‘They do.’

‘It’s for travel between planets,’ Cochrane added, looking at Sloane.

‘We thought that might be the case,’ Langford nodded her approval.

‘That’s why you wanted me,’ Sloane interjected. ‘My theories on wormhole travel.’

‘You are the most highly qualified,’ Skonn said in even tones.

‘That’s high praise from him. Come on, I need to inform a few people.’

‘The Air Force?’ Sloane asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Who’s in charge of this project?’

‘Me, but if you’re referring to the Air Force, General John Christopher.’

‘He’s a good man. He’ll be fair.’

‘Meaning?’ Langford narrowed her eyes.

‘He’ll let you stay in control as long as there are Air Force personnel around to assist you.’

‘He’ll want one of his people to go through if we get it working.’

‘So you did find the stargate then?’ Cochrane said, eyes gleaming.

‘Yes, Doctor, we did. I’ll show it to you shortly,’ Langford agreed and turned back to Sloane. ‘I would prefer to keep them out of this.’

‘I’m sure you would, Catherine, but since it could represent a significant threat, I think he’s justified in wanting someone to identify a threat.’

‘Someone more senior that yourself?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Do you have someone in mind that I might suggest to him?’

‘I do, his son. Lieutenant Colonel Shaun Geoffrey Christopher is a decorated war veteran and has a distinct disregard for fools of any stripe. He’ll be able to identify friend or foe very quickly. There is one problem though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘He resigned his commission after his son was killed in a firearms accident.’

‘I won’t ask for more information,’ Langford said. ‘You believe he’s the best man to have for this journey?’

‘Yes ma’am, I do.’

‘I’ll try to get him. Do you have a second choice?’

Sloane considered it for a moment and then looked at Skonn. ‘Who would have been your second choice?’

‘Captain Samantha Carter,’ he answered.

‘That’s who I would have picked,’ she replied. ‘My second choice is Lieutenant Colonel Jack O’Neill, but I think he’s assigned to McMurdo at the moment.’

‘You are correct in that assessment, Captain Sloane,’ Skonn intoned. ‘I foresaw this possibility and believe that Colonel Christopher will be amenable, provided that his father gives permission to reinstate him.’

‘Who gets to deliver the good news?’ Sloane asked.

‘You have prior history, I believe?’ Skonn asked.

Sloane sighed. ‘We do. It was a long time ago.’

‘Well then,’ Langford rubbed her hands together. ‘I think that’s settled then. Once I speak with the General, you can go and get Colonel Christopher.’

‘Great, just what I needed. What can I tell him?’

‘Nothing, just recruit him and get him back here. I’ll handle the information.’

‘I’ll need something to whet his appetite. I know him, he won’t just accept his reinstatement.’

‘I’ll think of something,’ Langford replied. ‘Doctor Cochrane, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the stargate.’

 

[Mistral]

Jack! Jack! If you can write his sense of sardonic humor then we need Jack! Actually-I like the Christopher angle a lot. (Throws hat in ring)-I'm in now, don't you dare leave this unfinished.