Chapitre 1: 1: New Team
[Open POV]
The sounds of gunfire, of lasers, that was all one could hear on the transmission. Were the Goa'uld back? General Whitaker didn't want to take that chance. His predecessors did all they could to get rid of the Goa'uld, and yet they kept coming back like a bad dream, usually in the terms of coming back ten times worse. Without the video playing and only having audio, he couldn't tell exactly what was going on. And, despite his years in this field of research, of making headway of wanting to lead this program, he felt fear for the first time.
"Sir, we've lost connection to SG-1."
"Goddamnit!"
General Whitaker slammed his fist against the desk. He didn't have enough reinforcements to send another team to help them. They were spread out against different worlds, hoping to bring back at least one positive review of where they'd gone. Half the gate codes didn't work any longer, as the planets had shifted since the last time they worked the Stargate program.
Alerting sirens brought a further scowl to the General's face, seeing and feeling the Stargate activate.
"Sir! It's SG-1's code!"
"Open the damn iris then!"
The shuttering of the titanium iris shook the floor, a sign of not having any use for some time. The moment the wormhole appeared, two people dropped out of the slowly greening naquadah pool.
"Shut the gate! Shut the gate!" One demanded, waving their hand while the other slowly rolled around on the ground, groaning with pain.
The iris bellowed out it's groan of cold metal as it closed, cutting off any further entrance into the new location, Shelter Cove in California. It was far more secluded than being back in Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado. And, should something ever happen, they could literally push the Stargate back towards the ocean, making sure that it would be buried before someone else were to find it.
"I need medical in the Gate Room!"
[Next Day]
"What happened, Colonel Frost?"
Colonel Quinten Frost was a man who was all about the military. He'd served overseas three times, each time coming back with another medal, another handful of scars to his mind. He never let it get the better of him. He refused treatment of what was likely PTSD, but no one questioned it. It was simply how Quinten was. His family served proudly for the last five generations, and he was the only male from his parent's brood of children to continue the tradition.
"Quinten. Tell me what happened."
Quinten frowned and looked to his commanding officer, General Whitaker. His hazel eyes narrowed to his general. His hand reached up to scratch at the bandage on his cheek, trying to choose his words wisely.
"Well, for starters, we're going to need a new interpreter. Ours didn't know jack shit. I don't think he even knew his ass from a hole in the ground. Seriously, where had you found that pile of fake nerd shit? Played Dungeons and Dragons and got… Shit, what is that term…"
"I'm guessing you mean-"
"A critical fail!" Came the chime of a voice both recognized.
A young woman with bright blonde hair and milk chocolate eyes was standing next to the General with a tablet in hand, her glasses placed firmly against her nose and hooked over her ears. With light pink blush, she gave a slight smile.
"Yes… A critical fail. Thank you, Mandy." Quinten spoke, shaking his head. "Leave it to you to know what I was talking about.
"Hey, you can't be a level twelve druid with a massively stronger summoned companion without rolling a few crits." She tilted her head up, as if he was insulting her.
"Yeah… Whatever." Quinten grumbled before looking to the General. "Still, where'd you dig up the stiff?"
"For your information, he was highly recommended. Took after the teachings of the original SG-1, Daniel Jackson." Whitaker grunted back. "What. Happened."
Quinten sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Everything was going alright. There wasn't anyone around. As much as we could see, anyways. Found some ruins about… A half mile to the east, if that's even the right direction. We went to investigate, take notes, see if there was anything good and little scribe boy pushed on something and all of a sudden we heard this high shrieking noise. Next thing I know, he's screaming saying he didn't know what he did and ran off like a little kid, screaming at the top of his lungs."
"And then?"
"Then these flashes of gold. Gold and red. They moved in such a blur… Then I felt my arm being burned by some sort of weapon. The rest of the team scattered, started firing back… We were grossly outnumbered. I honestly think we need to put that planet on eternal lockdown. I lost my team besides Jenkins, and he's been through hell already."
General Whitaker nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. "Maybe we just wait a while before going back."
"General-"
"I'm not saying we go back all hot headed, Colonel." Whitaker's voice rumbled. "But we will need to go back eventually to further figure out what you saw. In the meantime, we need to build the team back up. I don't know of any other good linguists like Heston."
As the two men stilled to think, Mandy let out a slight cough. "I have your results, Colonel." She spoke, sucking in her cheeks as if she'd tasted something sour.
"Let me guess, besides a couple of burns and an overly sarcastic sense of humor, I'm alright to be released." Quinten quipped, getting a glare from the blonde.
"Well, yes and no."
This got both the General's attention and the Colonel's.
"Yes… And no?"
A soft hum left her as she nodded. "Mhm. You're in fine physical shape besides the burns but I found something interesting."
There was silence for a moment before Whitaker spoke up. "Are you going to tell us?"
"Oh! Right! Gotta talk!" Mandy giggled before showing the tablet. "Your burn marks aren't consistent with fire, or even like the previous Goa'uld technology burns. The original Goa'uld burns were circular in shape, and didn't leave anything behind. These burns are angular. Straight. As if they'd taken a really hot knife and just-"
"Got it. What else is there?"
"Right… There were some small microbes that were left behind." She turned the tablet back to herself and moved along on the tablet, showing them little microbes moving about, looking like David's Star, a six point star. "So far, I've isolated a few, but nothing happens when I do anything with them. It's like they're totally meaningless."
They both raised their brows in curious inflection before General Whitaker was pulled away from his thoughts as one of his staff came over with a file.
"Sir, we think we found a suitable replacement for Heston for SG-1."
The General took the file and started to read it over, drawing the curious eyes of Frost and Mandy.
"Who?"
{Colorado, Lower East Side of Greeley}
[Jennifer Mack]
A soft hum left her lips as she put away the book she'd read from cover to back a thousand times it seemed. She'd put away the last thing in her new apartment. With a proud huff, she pulled her phone out and looked at good places to eat. Mainly, she was open for the mexican places nearby that she could get. The moment she found a good restaurant and placed her order for delivery, she heard a hard knock on her front door. She had to seriously debate about answering the door.
Her ex-husband wouldn't know where she was. She'd made sure of that. And with no kids in the picture, he only had to pay her alimony, which he didn't agree to so it had to go through different courts. So, she didn't have any contact with him in the slightest. She didn't even ask or request for more money or for anything really.
Swallowing, she made her way to her front door and opened it about two inches, peeking around the edge of the door. Two men in service uniforms stood there, both looking grim and neither one seemed to have a sense of humor.
"Um… May I help you?" Her voice hesitantly asked, ready to slam the door should they try anything.
"Are you Mrs. Burkhart?" One stern man asked.
"Formerly. I changed back to my maiden name. Again, may I help you? If not, the welcome mat will be rolled back up."
The men shared a smirk before one pulled a folder from under his arm. "We're with Special Operations, based in California. We've come across your resume and would like to discuss an opportunity that will change your life."
She raised a brow in simple curiosity.
"Change my life, yeah? Without serving military time?"
The man speaking originally to her nodded. She sighed as she opened the door further, allowing them to come in.
"I had just unpacked the last book too…"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone