So, I've been working on this story for the better part of six months, since I ordered all ten seasons of Stargate SG1 and all five seasons of Stargate Atlantis on DVD and started rewatching both series. I have no idea if there are any SG1/A fans out there who'll want to read this, but oh well. I like Billie too much to stop.

This book is actually the first of five, as it is set in the background of all five seasons of SGA. I hadn't intended for this to be such a big project when I started out, but I quickly fell in love with Billie's character and her story, so of course I have to write it all.

Anyway, welcome to the Totally Expendable Series, and I hope there are at least a few of you out there that will enjoy this story!

And a HUGE thank you to 1917Farmgirl for helping me with... well, everything for this story!

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"What's a hero, if not for its journey?" — J. H. Wyman

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There are a lot of truths that could be claimed as universal: change… love… hate… human stupidity… that the universe itself is infinite… It's really just a matter of opinion. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

For me, it's stories.

Humans are storytellers. It's practically written in our DNA. We tell stories to educate and to socialize. Stories can be forms of entertainment; ways of taking our minds off of the struggles we face on a daily basis. It's how we find purpose in our lives, because without purpose, we'd have no reason to live, no story to tell. What's more, our stories intertwine with others to become the more complex and permanent tales that we've come to call history. For as long as humanity has existed, so have stories. Maybe even longer.

There's a catch, of course. While everyone has a story to tell, no two stories are the same because no two individuals are the same. Each story is told from someone's perspective; there's a side to each story, and in each side, there's always one thing: a hero.

But I've never been a hero. I don't think I could ever be a hero.

Not that I've ever wanted to be a hero. Not in the stereotypical sense anyway. I'm no Lieutenant Uhura, Princess Leia or Captain Janeway. And I'm certainly no Wonder Woman. Heroes have everyone looking to them to save the day, the world, the universe, you name it. Who wants that kind of pressure?

Then you'd actually have to save the day/world/universe, which doesn't seem to be all that easy in the first place.

And of course, being a hero comes with a price. Their lives usually suck for the most part. They never get to be normal or just care about themselves or take the easy way out. Heroes can't be lazy and curl up in a chair with a big fluffy blanket and rewatch Star Wars for the umpteenth time, because they've gotta figure out how to beat the bad guy or stop some impending doom.

So no, I'm no hero. And I'm no antihero, reluctant hero, romantic hero, superhero or tragic hero either. Sorry.

And before you get ahead of yourself, I'm definitely not a villain. Or bad guy… goon… minion… I'm not even a storm trooper. I can confidently say that I'm a fairly good person who makes good choices. At least I try to be.

And yes, I can actually hit a target, thank you very much. I'm a pretty good shot too.

So what am I then?

Well, I guess most would say that I'm just a normal, boring person with a relatively uneventful life. Cosmically speaking, of course. No one is going to remember my name hundreds of years after my death. I'll never be known for doing something extraordinary that changed the course of history, or discovering something that redefined the meaning of life as we know it. I'm just living my life and hoping I can survive whatever comes next.

Which happens to be deciding whether or not to join a special expedition to travel to another galaxy in search of The Lost City of Atlantis by using an alien device called the Stargate.

Yeah, definitely not normal. It's like it's straight out of a sci-fi show.

Which means that going would make me something else entirely: a redshirt.

I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous unless you're talking about Star Trek, but I'm serious. Somehow, through sheer coincidence — or luck, depending on how you look at it — a woman named Dr. Elizabeth Weir knocked on my door and asked me to join an expedition to another galaxy that could very well end up being a one way trip.

But if I'm a redshirt, what exactly qualifies me for this special, once-in-a-lifetime adventure that could, in the best case change the future of the human race, in the worst kill us all? (Although, based on what I've heard about the SGC, there are certainly worse possibilities. Like destroying the galaxy. Maybe two. Or the whole universe. Depends on how badly someone screws up.)

Well, according to Dr. Weir, I happen to have three things that've put me on the short list for the Atlantis expedition:

1) A military background with a spotless record (which isn't hard if you keep your head down) and notes that praise my uncanny ability to follow orders (also not that hard, for me at least) — never mind one tiny detail; I've been a pilot my entire career. It doesn't seem like there'll be much flying on Atlantis, which makes me a pretty bad investment, really.

2) Security clearance. I already know about the Stargate Program, aliens, and the fact that I've been thrown into a science fiction tv show (metaphorically of course). How did I get clearance? Well, I have this talent for flying. Like, top-of-my-class, don't-even-have-to-try talent that got me into a special Air Force program because they needed people who could fly these F-302 fighters that were modified from alien spacecraft. Yes, alien spacecraft.

And most importantly, 3) I happen to have an activated ancient gene that allows me to control the technology we're likely to find on Atlantis, a supposedly random characteristic that is so rare that Dr. Weir has been searching far and wide for people that have it. Bonus points if you already have clearance and know about the Stargate program.

Yup, that's right. I was chosen because of the same luck that got me into the Air Force in the first place, my God-given talent that has made it about as easy breathing to get as far as I have, and my DNA. It's done wonders for my self-confidence. I haven't worked for any of it. Not really.

Aren't you supposed to work really hard in order to get an opportunity like this?

And it's not like I have any special skills other than following orders and flying, so I'm not exactly sure I'd be all that useful anyway — at least half of the expedition are scientists, which means the military contingent is nothing more than the muscle to protect the brains. Glorified security guards. And totally expendable.

Basically, redshirts.

Maybe I'm generalizing. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. Maybe I've watched too many episodes of Star Trek. Either way, I'm not exactly keen on being a redshirt, given how their stories usually end.

So why go?

No idea. But I get the feeling that I'm going to find out.

Even if I am totally expendable.