Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Stargate franchise or its storylines. My intention is not infringe upon those rights, so please don't sue me.
Author's Note: As everyone here knows, writer's block sucks. In an effort to alleviate this problem, I've decided to make creating story lines less infuriating - and that starts with the title. From now on, the name of every chapter in this series will be named after some of my favorite songs - either applying to the storyline of the song, or just the title itself. So I press "shuffle songs", and here we go…
This story is named after a song from Linkin Park's first studio album Hybrid Theory.
A Place for My Head
Chapter 1: Amputation
As 6AM brought the pale sun over the ocean horizon, the morning rush had begun to take effect on the Atlantis Expedition. The mess hall grew into a dull roar as officers and scientists filed in for daily breakfast.
Lieutenant Sullivan strolled into the busy cafeteria while strapping on his gear. He skimmed the buffet table and grabbed breakfast sandwiches to wolf down before his AM Gate watch shift. He was soon joined by two other uniformed men, chatting away while juggling their weapons and baubles of fruit.
"There's no way that chick is staying here for any longer," Thompson remarked. "I give it a week."
"You said that two weeks ago," Aguilar responded. "You obviously don't know John Sheppard."
"Well, what else is there to know?" the rookie Thompson inquired. "All I heard was that he doesn't respond so well to the IOA and he's flexible when it comes to protocol."
Aguilar scoffed. "Yeah, especially when it comes to Teyla or Ronon. Everyone knows the only reason that chica is still here is because she thinks she's Ronon's daughter."
"She showed cooperation, though," Thompson reasoned. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'll put her down if she goes all feral again, but she could choose to help us, right?"
"If only," Aguilar snickered. "She's too hot to be our enemy. If she wasn't so crazy sabes que I'd be all over that."
Sullivan joined as the three walked down the hall leading to the Gate room. "What is she, like 18?"
"Hey, I have yet to meet a single mamasita who didn't fawn over Rafael Aguilar," he boasted.
"Than you clearly haven't talked any of the women on base," the lieutenant jabbed back. Aguilar jokingly pushed him to the side as they spread out to cover all corners of the area surrounding the Stargate. A few seconds later, they pointed there weapons at the Gate as they heard the whine of the device followed by the intercom's announcement: "Unscheduled off-world activation!"
Up in the control room, one of the operators appraised Woolsey of the contact as he ascended the stairs.
"It's a video feed from Stargate Command, sir," the operator affirmed.
"Put it up on screen," Woolsey indicated as he smoothed out his uniform and adjusted his glasses. The LCD screen in the control room garbled with static at first and then cleared up to display the image of an Asian woman familiar to the former IOA overseer.
"Chen," Woolsey greeted, "what can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to know how my old friend is doing in a galaxy far far away," she cordially remarked.
"Ah, Chen, you know I'm old-fashioned," Woolsey grinned, "that could have just as easily been determined by a pen and pad. What's the real reason for this call?"
"Alright, Richard," she conceded. "I called to give you an update from our end. The IOA wants to establish a firmer hold on the security of Atlantis. Now that we are aware of the growing threats against the base, we can't afford to have any chinks in the armor of you military force."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he squinted.
"A psychologist has been sent to determine if any of the security officers, as well as science and medical officers, are unfit for duty on the Atlantis base," she explained. "If he determines that any of your staff can't perform efficiently in the Pegasus galaxy, they will be immediately discharged and brought back to the good old Milky Way."
"You plan on terminating my base personnel because they're not up to your par?" Woolsey shockingly inquired.
"My preferences are not the issue here," Chen corrected. "President Obama issued an address to the United Nations yesterday afternoon. He may have given a positive outlook on the worldwide economy, but his optimism was tempered by America's $700 billion deficit. He has realized that he needs to cut off any branching operation that's draining the budget, and that doesn't just mean without our own galaxy. If the doctor passes off enough of your staff, the project remains. If not, it gets the ax. Simple as that."
A frustrated Woolsey had no other words to convince her away from protocol he would have followed himself were he still with the IOA.
"Now - back to my original question: are there any updates I should know about?" His annoyance was soon overtaken by his sudden anxiety. They had neglected to inform Stargate Command of their hospitality towards Naima due to his intention to quickly relocate her. But it had already been two weeks since Ronon and Sheppard brought her back from the mainland.
Woolsey struggled to mainland his composure. "We will send you a data burst with our reports, then your psychologist will be fully appraised of our happenings. When will he be leaving?"
"Seventeen hours ago," Chen corrected, "send that burst to Stargate Command with a CC to the Midway Station. Dr. Scofield is just clearing the pathogen decontamination. He should be arriving within the next few hours."
He tried to wipe his sweaty palms on his uniform, but to no avail. "Wonderful. We'll be ready to welcome him."
"Always a pleasure talking with you, Richard," she mused. And a cordial nod later, the screen was wiped with static again.
Woolsey tried to keep hyperventilation at bay, and his anxiety had been manageable until he turned towards the twenty control room operators. He was met with a sea of distressed faces before Chuck turned off the monitor.
The entire control room already knows, Woolsey thought, how can I possibly keep this from the rest of the base?