Stargate: Rise of Humanity IC [M]

[Delta8O8]

As Ensign Rodgers called him out on his qualifications, Ilari's head turned slowly.
Like a Tank tracking a target.
His eyes were neither wide nor narrow. The expression was stuck somewhere between anger and one who has taken offense.
He glanced at the rank on his collar and he racked his brain to remember what it was equivalent to. Unlike the other branches the Navy was the somewhat oddball when it came to ranks. Everyone else was pretty similar to each other. He opened his mouth to say something but the sudden stance change from Doc Ambri And then Doc Ambri in his peripheral made him stop. The Staff Sergeant was surprised when she opted not to say anything, but then the Tech Sergeant did.
Wait...
His mind finally found the information on the Navy in the dusty old cellar in his brain. It was wedged under a shelf to keep it balanced and stable, and thus had collected dust over the years.
Vasili mentally noted the ranks of everyone in the room. And a feeling of dread moved into his gut as he realized he was the most junior in the room.

But this...his precious qualifications. Ones where he spent almost every waking hour learning and qualifying for. Sleeping only on the trips between bases. Four months of course after course after course. Eating MREs while at the range field stripping weapons, then putting them back together again, while the rest got to go to the DFAC, or even better, off-base to eat. If there was nothing going on at night, Vasili would stay up and go over his notes so he could pass his written tests. Trying to qualify the first time, therefore becoming Mission Ready as fast as possible.

He politely and respectfully gave his most immediate Senior his attention. Normally this was the part where he would begin to quietly flirt with the Technical Sergeant. It was very rare to find a woman with qualifications such as hers in this day and age. The fact that she was SpecOps scared him a little but that was part of the fun.

When she was done, his attention turned back on the Sailor.
And now the First Lieutenant was on him.
Are you serious? He thought to himself.
When Potpourri or Potpie or whatever his name was, was done with his explanation of why Staff Sergeant Vasili Ilari was "out of uniform", Vasili took a deep breath to calm himself down before he stood up and said anything else.
"Begging your pardon, sirs..." He glanced at the Naval man. "I HAVE qualified all of said weapons. I am NOT showing off. And as proof these are the documents printed by General Hammond himself to be signed by each Instructor and Commanding Officer of said Instructor as I finished the requirements of each course." Vasili reached into his binder, specifically the protective plastic pocket and carefully withdrew the stack of signed documents passing them to the Ensign. "Passing those I had to leave immediately otherwise I wouldn't have made it to this meeting. As I am NOT out of Uniform regulation wise, for a meeting such as this I should have freshened up a bit, but I landed at Peterson approximately 30 minutes ago and the AC-130 I flew in on didn't have Shower accommodations. Neither did the Huey that transported me here from Peterson."

[Nope]

The sound of leather soles echoed throughout the marble floors of the hall. The building smelled of polish and two hole punched legal letter stock.
Sarah was all too aware of the loose button on the front of her blazer. She tried to focus on the man who walked beside her, but her mind was on it's threat of giving way. She'd then be forced to continue walking, as the blazer flapped open, revealing the wrinkled white dress shirt underneath, or stop and do that horrible half crouch to pick it up.
Her fingers twitched in an effort not to touch it and draw attention.
"Sarah-"
"Huh? Oh yes, sir."
"Did you hear what I said."
"Yes. Yes I was listening." She cleared her throat. "I apologize. Its been a long day."
"And a successful one."
Together, they strolled through the double glass front doors and down the stone steps to a car waiting on the busy street. Voices and car horns filtered through the scent of street vendors and blooming trees. Sarah barely glanced up before ducking into car that awaited them.
She settled back into the plush seat as the man slipped in beside her and the door was shut. She adjusted the legs of her trousers, shuffling her feet on the floor.
The man used a hand to release the button from his blazer and free his stomach from its confines.
The car pulled away from the curb and headed deeper into the city.
"This is a major step. I cant stress this enough. This assignment is unlike anything you have experienced before."
"Uh huh." Sarah replied, not listening. She had planned on just pulling the button off now that she had sat, but was concerned it would give the wrong impression.
A young man on a bike darted into the cross walk. The car lurched as the driver hit the break. Sarah craned to see out the window as the biker gave the driver the finger before continuing across the street.
She had gripped the seat to keep from falling forward in the sudden stop, and now as she leaned back, she found the button had broken free and disappeared somewhere among the carpeted floor. She frowned.
"Sarah."
"Yes sir."
"I have to say, Im surprised. I thought you would have more questions."
Sarah looked up into the calculating but not unkind eyes of the older General. A strand of gray hair dangled over his ear, having slipped from the copious amount of product he had used to try to keep it back. She wanted to tuck it away for him. Her fingers itched at the thought.
She swallowed. "No, I understand completely General. I greatly appreciate the opportunity. I suppose it must be a lot to process, all at once."
His eyes softened slightly. "I can imagine."
She felt the car begin to slow.
From the briefcase at his feet, the General pulled a thick stack of paperwork, bound tightly in a manila envelope, the abrasive red CONFIDENTAL stamp clearly marking the front. "This contains the general data gathered on the civilizations whose contact has already been made, and a history of the program. There is a rough guide for language but- How well is your ancient Egyptian?"
Sarah lifted an eyebrow, accepting the folder as the car came to a stop.
She made ready to leave before the hand on her arm stopped her.
"I have confidence in you, especially after seeing how you handled the summit in Iran. This is the biggest compliment I have ever given a woman. You should appreciate it."
Sarah prickled in surprised disgust. She nodded once hard, "I hope I have the ability to."
She didnt wait to see the General's reaction, instead she slipped from the car, ignoring the driver that held the door and walked briskly up the walk to the government building before her.
In her haste, she'd forgotten to grab her button, and the realization turned her annoyance to anger.

Sarah flashed her badge to the guard that stood between her and the mountain. Several others milled around outside the entrance, weapons unslung, eyes on the surrounding hills and desert.
She felt slightly out of sorts in her Class A dress. Her first impression was intended to be a good one, although she was now questioning what the others would be wearing. Had she overdone it?
There was no going back now, however, so pressing on was all that was left.
A soldier greeted her professionally and led her down the hall to the elevator that would take them under the Earth. A fitting place it seemed, going deeper into the Earth in order to leave it.
The files given to her by the General had been retrieved by another operative.
Reading it, she had quickly come to the conclusion that she should have paid more attention to the old man's announcement. What she had agreed to was like no other assignment she had ever been given. And for the first hour of study, it felt like a joke.
She couldnt shake the feeling she was being hazed, even now, as she descended, it still had the air of an elaborate joke. But to what end?
No.Her stomach fluttered in nervous excitement. Im going to space. And its unlike anything I ever imagined.
Sarah had always considered the possibility there was more life out there. If it could happen to Earth, why not elsewhere in the galaxy? She'd been a fan of science fiction throughout her teenage years and still enjoyed the occasional Star Trek rerun.
But this.
"Do you ever get used to it?" She asked.
The soldier in the elevator with her gave her a glance. "Im sorry ma'am. My job is to escort you to a certain point. It is not my duty to know what goes on beyond it."
"Surely you must know something!" She exclaimed. "You msut hae some suspicions!"
The soldier squared his shoulders and shook his head. "Beyond my clearance level."
"And that doesnt bother you?!"
He didnt reply. Sarah gaped to herself. All the wonders of the universe is below this man's feet, so close, and yet his mind couldnt touch it. She figured she'd go crazy on that threshold. She shook her head, that's why she had never made much of a soldier. She'd been much more successful as a diplomat. She was thankful, because it had brought her here.

The base was plain, stone and metal, glass and heavy with the weight of Earth and scent of musk and weapon oil. She passed few people as they walked to a final metal door. The soldier buzzed her through and bid her fair well.
She watched him turn curtly on his heel and head back the way they came.
And for the first time, she felt the desire to go back with him. Her palms shook. What if she couldnt do this? What if the General was wrong?
Behind her, the door opened.
She grit her teeth and stepped through it without a further thought.

The closer she got to the Stargate, the more comfortable the base became. People filled the halls and glass enclosed rooms. She passed a medbay, a laboratory theater, and several accommodations.
Several people gave her a nod of greeting as they passed and she returned the gesture. Blond strands had come loose from the clips she'd used to hold bangs.
She stopped outside the door to the conference room and re-secured them. Then with a sigh, a roll of her shoulders, and a shuffle of feet, she pushed through the door.

The rest of the team had mostly already assembled. Sarah held her head confidently, she felt her expression waiver slightly before she pressed it into firm professionalism. It was obvious she had disrupted a conversation of sorts. To combat the awkwardness of the observation, she pretended the people before her were delegates instead of her new family, and regarded them as such.
There had been some sort of disagreement just before she came in, and several people were bristling. She noted immediately the ones involved. She would keep an eye on them.
There were two other women in the room, which came as welcome surprise to the expectation of a boy's game, and even better, both of them looked capable and intelligent.
Sarah swallowed. "Good Day," She said, in her soft southern lilt, "Im-" She took a step toward an empty seat, only to trip over her own feet on the carpet. She stumbled, grabbed the back of the chair for balance and finished "-a klutz apparently."
Cheeks red, drowning out the spatter of freckles, she slipped into the chair and folded her hands on the table. Fantastic.

[Dnafein]

The Ensign nodded at the Lieutenant's explanation of what the uniform was supposed to be. The naval officer wondered if he was the target of a joke. He let the moment pass, and the staff sergeant gave his excuse. Stan gave a small shake of his head.

“I can understand the… Sloven appearance; After all it is not as if you did anything leisurely like a three day hike through the Panamanian rainforest. It is incredibly grueling to sit in a pressurized air conditioned tube and pull a trigger to fire a gun at a target on a screen. Although if you were covered in that when you qualified your qualifying official is being ripped apart by the avionics tech. After all it only takes one grain in the wrong place to fry his equipment.”

Stan smiled slowly though as he finished. “It wasn't the pigpen act that violates the uniform code. The hat in your pocket, is a starting point. As it is the wrong color, and wrong style; While also lacking the appropriate patch. Then there is the sunglasses. While wearing them is permitted, they're to be worn for their purpose. As the sun doesn't shine inside, much less a…” The Ensign paused doing a quick estimate. “Half mile underground. Additionally the Navy regs, which if we're honest share the basics; State sunglasses can't be worn from the neck, or hanging off your uniform.”

The Naval officer pointed to the sunglasses hanging from Ilari’s pocket, “Lying is a bad habit.” Before he could add anything further, the door knob twisted and another individual entered the room. Rodgers’ eyes scanned her, dismissing her as the team's leader when she tripped. Even as he tried to figure out her purpose, he shifted to offer her assistance. Stopping as she caught herself, raising an eyebrow at her words.

[Delta8O8]

Shit. Ilari thought to himself when the Ensign addressed him. He looked at the 1st Lieutenant then the two ladies across from him before he resisted the automatic reaction of bending over at the waist, with his head down in defeat, and suppressed a sigh, before replying with, "Yes, sir. Lying IS a bad habit. It won't happen again." The Staff Sergeant replied with a wince. In fact, if the Officers actually looked at the papers he had passed out...well, the amount of qualifications he mouthed off about did not match the amount of documents he had handed out. It was pretty evident he was trying to show off to a certain Lady in the room, but his plan back fired. He had hoped the details would've been caught later when she wasn't around and THEN be chewed out for lying.

"I'd like to uh...rephrase my qualifications. Besides my 249 recert, I've been qualifying and qualified for the M136 AT4, FGM-148 Javelin, and the M4 SLAM Mine, in the last four months. The Launchers didn't take too long because I have some experience with them when I was back in the Army. The Mine took the longest. Apparently I have a fear of things that can explode in my hands."
And even after getting caught with his lie he still continued with the jokes.

Movement to his side caught his eye as some else entered. He was just about to give her the same "attention" as he did with 1st Lieutenant Poperture until she tripped. It made him take a step towards her, despite the table, but freeze when she caught herself. Too late to call the others to attention he removed his shades from his pocket, putting that on his binder, and then removed the black ball cap from his back pocket, opting to sit on it as he had nowhere else to put it, before just quietly taking a seat.

[Imperial1917]

As Ilari finished speaking there was a shuffle by the door. Several soldiers ranging in rank up to sergeant walked in and took up positions behind the participants. Even as they did this, the eyes of the assembled SG-7 characters were drawn to Thurman as she followed them in. Her hands clasped behind her back, she looked from one member to another in succession, lingering for a moment on each, their gazes meeting her purple-blue eyes. Before any could speak, she said in a soft, but carrying tone, "Officer on the deck." Suiting action to word, she stepped deftly to the side and snapped a salute, quickly imitated by the soldiers who proceeded her into the room.

General Hammond stepped into the conference suite a moment later. Nodding to the soldiers, he said, "Thank you. At ease, all of you. We have a lot to get through and very little time." He motioned to the soldiers, who then deposited the files they were carrying in front of each of the SG-7 team members before exiting the room. Once Thurman had shut the door behind them, Hammond continued, "You will have all received some idea of the importance of what we are doing here, so it should come as no surprise to you that what happens in this base, and everything connected to it, are on a strict need to know basis. You were selected for this assignment because you are known to be able to keep a secret, and this operation has a lot of secrets to keep." His eyes also went from member to member, but only briefly. "Take your seats. Major?"

All eyes swung to Thurman, who crossed to the observation controls. The observation shutters had been closed and the speakers connected to the rest of the base muted at her request before the meeting time, but she could think of few better ways to start the team off. Old by now and in need of maintenance, the shutters rose without noise, but slowly. Beyond the bulletproof glass a room was slowly revealed, dominated by a ramp leading up to an upright ring that appeared to be made of metal. At its center was a great metallic iris, clearly not original to the structure. Though nearly out of sight beyond the window seals, the team could see the heads of uniformed soldiers hurrying around the chamber, manning fixed emplacements aimed at the ring.

Turning where she stood, the major said, "This is the stargate, an ancient device of alien origin capable of creating a stable wormhole that enables its users to access a network of such devices scattered throughout the galaxy and so cross lightyears to other planets nearly instantaneously. It is the nucleus of this, what you are now a part of, the Stargate Program."

* * * * *

She paused to let them absorb what she had just said. "The Stargate Program is operated under Stargate Command, the SGC, a top-secret branch of the United States Air Force with strong ties to NASA. We have been in operation for a year, ever since the Stargate was reactivated. You'll find that the files you were just given contain a brief overview of the program including its history and the missions that have been conducted by the SGC. Further details including after action reports are available at request on a need-to-know basis; you can find a list of mission breakdowns in the files. Of particular interest to you will be the missions undertaken by SG-1, the flagship team of the Stargate Program. Which brings us to the teams."

Hammond joined the major at this point and took up the briefing, "At the reactivation of the program, the SGC made the decision to divide the field operations into two groups: the garrison and the SG teams. We had a lot of reasons for this, but the main principle was an acknowledgement that we needed more specialized teams with greater flexibility in the field, particularly in the areas of science and technology. That is what the teams are for: four-man expedition groups with a wide range of capabilities and a high level of adaptability. Where that fails in the face of hostile environments, the garrison steps in with the heavy support."

"The going hasn't always been smooth. From the outset we have encountered hostile alien groups like the Goa'uld with significant - even more significant than our own - resources, if not sophistication. Recently SG-1 succeeded in routing a Goa'uld attack on the Earth, stopping it just in orbit of the planet when all other means had failed." Nodding to Ambrose, he said, "And there have been losses. Which brings us back to SG-7."

"SG-7 is being reactivated." said Thurman, her hands once more clasped behind her back, "Reactivated because it was wiped out. The original SG-7 was dissolved after its members were killed by a Goa'uld-manufactured bioweapon, one that the Goa'uld in question had actually deployed against a village resisting its rule, which the team was unlucky enough to stumble across long after it happened. That scale of capability, and the callousness with which it was deployed, should give you an idea of what kind of opposition we are facing."

[bluemoon]

As expected, Dr. Ambrose rose from her chair and came to attention, saluting the general as he entered. Taking the position of 'at ease' with her hands folded behind her back, she listened attentively, her gaze dropping briefly to the file that was set before her seat, her curiousity peaked. Over the past months she had been given access to some files that pertained to the Goa'uld and her research, but little else was known to her.

Sitting down again, Ambri set her attention on the scene that unfolded before her as the shutters were opened. She had heard rumors about the ring, some from heavily sedated patients, but seeing it in person, even through the glass, was incredible--it was mesmerizing. She let out an audible sigh, fixated on the symbols along the outer surface. Despite being unique, some seemed almost familiar, and she hoped to discover their origins in the days ahead.

********

As the major spoke, Ambri set her hand upon the file before her, lightly thrumming its surface, the unknown contents very compelling. Due to her position at the base, she knew more than most of the people on the team, but the program itself was really a mystery. Once the general took the floor again, she forced herself to relax, planting her feet firmly on the floor and removing her hands from the table. She glanced briefly at the other occupants, gauging their reactions, looking back to the general only when he acknowledged her with a nod.

SG-7. Ambri knew they were the replacement, and as Major Thurman mentioned the ruthlessness of the Goa'uld, she shivered lightly, remembering the day the intel came in on the previous team. She had not been privy to the report, but conversations were overheard and she was informed of the deaths. She had met the SG-1 team on multiple occasions, and Teal'c did not seem as threatening as she would have expected. She smiled to herself, once again looking around at all the new team members and glad they had more or less settled the situation from earlier. She especially appraised the newest addition, remindering herself she would have to look over her medical report once they were released from the meeting.

[Nope]

As they began, Sarah felt her heart quicken. She gave an enthusiastic salute and then did her best to stay still as they took their seats.
The General was a rotund man with a kind but serious face. He seemed comfortable and well versed to be in charge of such a base and such a project. She knew he must have excelled throughout his career to be honored with such a post.
The cool and collected way he spoke and moved about the room almost made her question again whether any of this was actually real.
She remembered a long discussion she had had with a colleague and the truth of the psychological experiments of the 60s. What if this was another hidden agenda? If there was one thing the US government loved more flag lapel pins, it was hidden agendas.

But then the veil over the window began to lift and like a child with a garage door, she struggled not to peek underneath. She wanted the full sight, fresh and unfragmented. So when the ring was fully revealed, she took it in with a small gasp.
She took in the symbols around the inner ring, the ramp leading to it. If this is a joke, it certainly is an elaborate one. She thought.
Despite her trepidation, she still felt the tremor of pure excitement.
She'd felt herself growing stale in her career. At first, it had been an adventure, seeing worlds and lives so different from the small town she grew up in. She'd reveled in proving to herself, and through her hopefully the folks at home, that the rest of the world and nations were all the same people just under a different name and that everyone deserved peace and hope.
Instead, she had found herself going from hotel room or embassy quarters to government buildings and nowhere in between. She had wanted to meet natives, watch children play, and sample the markets and art.
She had actually met officials, watched man-children play real world Stratego, and ate things her coordinators thought she would want, which turned out to be largely variations of food she'd get at home, and the only art she ever saw was her own doodles on cocktail napkins from under her water glass.
This new start, however, was something else entirely.

Her enthusiasm faultered slightly with the mention of the deaths of the old SG7 team. And she felt a chill rise in her spine. She'd considered the risks, of course. And with anything in government, the risks included death and sometimes worse than that, depending on the country and the men in charge. What she hadnt stopped to consider was the possibility of never returning home, whether it be alive or as a corpse. She hadnt considered she might end up in a wasteland, millions of billions of miles from home and that no one would ever know the truth of how or why or when she died.
No one would know her work. For now, anything she did, would stay in this little group, and in the blue folder of a man in a room somewhere in D.C. She would get no fame, no notoriety, nothing.
What she would get though, might be far more amazing than anyone on Earth could imagine.
And at that thought, she felt the corner of her lips twitch into a smile.
Oh this was going to be fun.

[Fox Xalian]

Maisie had stepped into the room just before the briefing started, her curly, red hair which was usually in a nice, neat bun was seemingly tied hastily up, and as such was a bit messy. It apparently weasn't easy for a large transport plane to take off in the middle of a UN humanitarian operation in the middle of a civil war, especially when one side was trying to attack the airfield you were meant to be leaving out of.

Her green eyes scanned the faces of everyone else after the situation got explained. Most of them seemed sufficiently shocked by the news of aliens, and she didn't blame them. All those crazy drunks she had heard about, and that one she met from her childhood...were they correct? She started thinking maybe they were. And then came the news of the team they were replacing. "And to think, trying to help humanitarian airdrops in the middle of the Bosnian Civil War was the most out there and difficult and dangerous thing I have done to date...this is literal light years ahead of that" she said quietly to herself, although people right near her might have heard.

[Storm]

Samantha remained in her seat as the ensign and cute sergeant continued their back and forth followed by other entrants. It was a few moments later when the door opened again followed by an entourage of personnel followed by a Major. 'Question one answered - who is our commander' drifts through her mind. She also gets an uncomfortable feeling as one of the entourage stands behind her. She never likes people she does not know standing behind her for any reason. As Officer on deck is called, she silently stands as General Hammond enters. Her facial expression changes as the General nods to the personnel behind the team, the airman behind her reaching around to set a file on the table before her. Samantha does resist the instinctive response of elbowing the airman in the throat who was behind her now reaching around her. As they are given the take your seats, she sits watching and listening to what the General and Major have to say.

She attentively listens to what the General then Major say before looking in the direction of the shutters which begin to rise. As the metal ring comes into view and the Major describes it as the Stargate and Wormholes, a momentary smile comes to her lips, the first thought in her mind was 'Beam me up Scotty'. As the briefing continues her attention is particularly caught on the part where the previous team was wiped out by a bio weapon. She had heard the term Goa'uld a few times while at this complex, mostly half whispered and never elaborated on, asked she received the same 'above your pay-grade' response. Now she knows this half whispered word is some hostile alien life form? Her thought drifts to realizing she has some reading to do tonight with this file before her.

Her thoughts drift slightly. Life off Earth, the writings of authors for entertaining stories, news of lights in the sky being weather balloons, drunks in bars speaking of extraterrestrial encounters. Dismissive as others were, she had always given the possibility a genuine thought. Now she was going to explore new worlds? Fight against a hostile enemy? Is she here for her ability with words or weapons or perhaps a mix of both. She begins to cast her gaze about to the various members of this team in a new light. On tonight's run, she is going to have far more than music in her thoughts.

[Dnafein]

After resuming his seat Rodgers opened the file before him. His eyes moved between the pages in front of him and the officer speaking. Moving to another source only at the reveal of the Stargate; The engineering graduate studied the massive circle of unfamiliar stone. His attention perked as the Major describes an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, which moved Stan's eyes back to the file in front of him.

As he skimmed through the pages the ensign tilted his head, indicating he was listening to the speaker. Stan nodded as the general mentioned the increased flexibility of the garrison/squad arrangement, as the SEALs were prime examples of the ideal. Though more for combat than exploration. The thought altered as the general mentioned the Goa’uld; The ensign immediately wondered where his Uncle was.

Even while his memory wandered the ensign listened to the briefing. As the major wrapped up Stanley focused on the questions that had formed through the briefing. While it is unlikely that either the general or major would be able to explain the details on how the Stargate actually worked; And any questions about the aliens his uncle described would likely raise more questions than give him answers. So he rested on the one question he knew he'd get an answer to.

Resting his hands on the table Stan looked up and asked. “Excuse me Major, but what happened to the parties responsible for the deaths of our predecessors?”