Well... here we go. My first fanfic of any kind, and the first in the only fanfiction story arc I ever intend to write. It'll be quite epic, though, I can guarantee at least that much.
This is the story of a new off-world base, and a new group of men and women who carry on the legacy of the original SG teams...
The timeframe: about two years after the end of Season 7. Minor breaks from the SG-1 universe: Hammond has been reinstated as SGC commander, and O'Neill remains with SG-1 after Season 7.
Disclaimer: I don't own SG-1 or its characters. I do, however, own any and all characters who do not appear in the television series.
=============================================================
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2006
1000 HOURS
"Chevron seven locked," the now-familiar voice of Sergeant Davis boomed over the intercom.
CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK! WHOOOOOSH!!!
Twelve faces watched and waited expectantly as the wormhole's event horizon fell back into a glowing, rippling pool two stories high.
"Alpha One, Alpha Two, and Alpha Three, you have a go," Davis said.
Lt Col. Phil Davenport glanced at his new charges, and then at the two teams standing behind his. Some of the newer people were still staring at the Stargate, mouths agape as they took in the awesome reality of what they were about to do. All three of the teams in the Gate Room - Alpha One, Two, and Three - were brand new, and while every incoming recruit had been briefed on the Stargate, eight of the twelve people about to go through the Gate had never been in this room before.
Davenport had been there, done that for four years, the last two as 2IC of SG-5. So had the other two team leaders, Maj. Patrick Lindsay of Alpha Two, formerly CO of SG-14, and Maj. Andy Szeja of Alpha Three, who had been 2IC of SG-4. This would also probably be his safest trip ever: the destination would be the new Alpha Base that had just been completed the previous week, replacing the old Alpha Site which had been destroyed by the Goa'uld. The teams would be moving into their new quarters and touring the base, nothing more.
The new Alpha Base was a huge improvement, heavily fortified with anti- aircraft batteries, artillery and machine-gun emplacements, razor wire, and even an underground hangar for a squadron of the state-of-the-art F-315B Ghost fighters that now patrolled in low Earth orbit. Eighteen field teams would operate out of it, in eight-month rotations. For now it was being run by a skeleton crew, but within the next three days twelve teams would begin their first tour of duty off-world, along with an entire base staff. Alpha One was the first of these teams.
Although he knew that very little could possibly happen now, Davenport couldn't help but feel a little apprehension. He was leaving behind an entire life on Earth for eight months. He'd been away for weeks at a time before, but eight months was a completely new level of commitment. It wasn't nearly as bad for him as for some of the others - after all, at 36 he was young for a lieutenant colonel, and still a bachelor - but it meant he'd have to put on hold the bar-hopping, the Ferrari, and other bits of his bon vivant off-duty life. And there was the responsibility part of the equation. It was a huge honor to be picked by Jack O'Neill himself to lead the team, but with that would come responsibility for a lot of Alpha Base's day-to-day operations. At least O'Neill had brought in a Pentagon desk jockey to be his executive officer. Davenport allowed himself a slight grimace at the thought. He'd never suspected that he'd ever appreciate one of those people.
Capt. Martin Pasanen, his second in command, looked far more nonchalant. To Pasanen, a member of SG-20 for the past year, it didn't mean nearly as much - sleeping in a different place at night, no more, no less. As a sniper, he didn't care as long as he still got to take pot shots at Goa'ulds and Jaffa, and as long as O'Neill would ignore the regulations enough to let him keep his goatee. Judging from what he knew of the General, the chances of that were fairly good.
2nd Lt. Kat Fletcher had been literally bouncing off the walls in anticipation before arriving at the Gate Room, but now the petite blonde stood staring at the Stargate, eyes wide with amazement. She smiled nervously at her teammates. Just nineteen years old, she was really still a girl, almost young enough to be the daughter of some of the other field personnel. At an age at which most girls thought mainly about boys, parties, and makeup, Fletcher had already finished college, earned a master's degree, dropped out of grad school, joined the Army Reserve, and seen combat in Afghanistan. And now traveling to other planets would top all of them. She'd just joined the active-duty Army a few months ago, and Alpha Base would be her first assignment, which made everything that much harder to take in all at once.
"Join the army, see the world, they said," she observed wryly. "'Cept they never mentioned other worlds."
"I know what you mean," said Dr. Kevin Hsu, the last member of Alpha One. "I've been around here for a while now and I'm still not used to it."
Dr. Hsu may have been on his first field assignment, but he'd worked for the SGC for two full years as a neurologist working with some of the world's worst neurological nightmares. He also spoke a dozen languages, a talent that resulted in his selection to Alpha One doubling as field medic and linguist. Hsu felt strangely calm for being about to move halfway across the galaxy; perhaps it was the knowledge that his wife would follow within the week that made the trip feel less like a break of routine. Abby Powers-Hsu had joined the SGC medical staff a few months after him, and would soon be the top civilian on the Alpha Base medical staff. Kevin saw her appear in the control room window, and waved.
Just as Davenport started to step forward, Sergeant Davis stopped him. "One moment please, Alpha One."
"What's the holdup?" Davenport asked no one in particular. He was answered as one of the doors slid open to reveal a reporter and camera crew, with a microphone ready to stick in his face in a few moments. "Good grief!" he exclaimed.
The next voice, which came over the intercom, echoed his sentiments. "What's going on over there?" someone at the other end of the wormhole radioed back. "The Gate's been open for three minutes and I don't see anyone coming."
"CNN wants an interview with Davenport, sir," Davis quickly explained. Davenport buried his face in his hands, while the CNN crew looked on in confusion, and other members of the Alpha teams tried to hide their amusement at the "accident." The intercom was still on, and chances were Davis knew it full well. Since the SGC had been revealed to the public two years ago, Davis had pulled that stunt several times, to the collective annoyance of the national media.
"CNN? For crying out loud! I never asked..." the voice said before being cut off with a click.
"Sorry, miss, I'd love to stick around and chat, but I have orders," Davenport told the reporter before she had a chance to shove the microphone at him. He wheeled smartly and marched up the ramp, his team in tow.
"Sir! Just two minutes!" the reporter pleaded, in vain. Without looking back, Davenport and Pasanen stepped through the Stargate, leaving behind a very flustered reporter and a frustrated camera crew.
Fletcher and Hsu paused at the top of the ramp.
"It's beautiful," Fletcher whispered. "Have you done this before?"
"First time," Hsu answered. "We're in the same boat." He touched the event horizon uncertainly with a finger.
"Good time to jump out of it. Ready?"
As the boots of Alpha Two began to rattle the metal ramp, the pair stepped forward and disappeared into the event horizon.