"How you view something, greatly depends on all that has come before, self-perception, and, over all, a massive miscommunication." -forgot who said it, paraphrased.
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Chapter 2:
Lennah was overall unassuming. She was completely unremarkable until you started asking questions, at which point, she became quite dull. She was bright and to the point in her sparse conversation. Lennah had mastered the art of small talk and was able to hold long conversations that revealed nothing about herself. To all appearance, she was nothing more than a corn fed farm girl who'd spent too much time in a coffee house. She had grandiose coffee culture dreams, like a national geographic cover.
It was only upon closer inspection that one might think otherwise. Few people truly push at the façade that all throw up to avoid others. Familiarity passes to a cursory glance and an occasional nod. If anyone had more closely examined Lennah Colare, they might have seen past 'average'. She tended to sneak up on people, completely on accident. If anyone had endeavored to join her, they might have seen one of her daily workouts which was part dance, part choreographed fight. In truth, she was passably competent in both.
Her father was a soldier who loved the military and ran his house as such. Her mother was a drama teacher who valued spontaneous creativity as much as perfected art. Gymnastics and karate were mandatory when she was growing up. By nine she was a brown belt, trained more by Marines than by sensei. By eleven, she was sneaking out of her second floor window with the ease of a cat burglar. Then she entered her art stage and branched out into different disciplines. She did some stage performances as a stunt double for 'Peter Pan' productions. The idea of a ballerina flying off balconies and spider climbing the walls of the studio kept her from being more than an understudy. Gymnasts were equally freaked out when she stopped coming down. The coach found her hiding in the rafters like a bat when she didn't want to workout.
They'd drive her home early and suggest she go see a therapist. An obsession with heights like Lennah's often led to the idea that flying through the air on a mat actually meant they could fly. It was rare for a gymnast--trained in the ultimate mastery of their bodies, coupled with the teenage rebellion of drugs--to test their wings by jumping off a ledge. Lennah often did.
So Mom bought her a camera. Lennah became the spiderman of yearbook clubs. Some of her pictures ended up in local papers though she couldn't explain why she'd been on the roof.
It was by watching other people this way that she learned social skills. She learned how to blend in where her weirdness made her stand out. Lesson one: Feign disinterest to the point of a coma. This presented a whole other set of problems but an entirely normal one. Skipping class was 'escape and evade', torturing the over weight vice-principal by making him run after three different slackers.
One day, someone caught her slip down the side of a building to lean, nonchalantly, against the wall behind a vending machine. She made the girls buying snacks think she'd been there the whole time. She blended in, the vice-principal fervently scanned the rest of the courtyard. The single witness stared at the Invisible that just dropped into sight.
He was a line backer on the Varsity football team. Ex-Invisible, himself, he'd used his excess weight to gain a position in the spotlight. Marc and Lennah got on great junior year. He convinced her to show up the cheerleader's halftime show with some flybys. It backfired and they tried to make her the mascot. The pair contented themselves with plotting various pranks on the teaching staff. Lennah learned the value of planting information. By the end of the year, half the staff thought they had secret admirers of their colleagues. There were two subsequent marriages that summer. One unrelated divorce.
Marc was infatuated and she was enamoured with her first romance. But as that summer passed on, Marc grew more attractive to other females. Lennah was left as an Invisible again. A forgotten crush by the time senior year started.
In revenge, Lennah had run a disinformation campaign. A dropped paper here, a hidden note there, and an easy email hack and this girl thought that one was sleeping around with her man.
Lennah couldn't have been more relieved that graduation came. She'd bounced off the stage and was enveloped in vapor. The crowd though it was a great prank and excellent use of a smoke pellet but they still wouldn't remember her name.
Later that month, Lennah watched from afar as Marc packed up his truck with his new buddies and headed off to college. An hour later, she ran across a crosswalk as they slowed at an intersection. They hadn't intended to stop. Lennah tumbled onto the hood. She looked through the windshield at Marc. He stared back, finally remembering who she was. She sprung up and off the truck an instant later, feeling stupid.
Who knows if he ever figured out Lennah was the source behind all his girl trouble. She still regretted the vendetta.
Lennah only had two years of community college when her father died of lung cancer. Or was it liver failure? They found him parked out by the lake behind the wheel of his beat up truck, a bottle in one hand and a ghostly smile on his face. The cigarette glowed in the ash tray, freshly lit.
Stinking tramp. Lennah thought to herself the day of the funeral. Finally went someplace we couldn't follow him.
Mom and her brothers were emotionally crippled by the loss. Lennah hardly darkened the doorstep after that. It was time for her to get moving anyway. She pared down and moved out.
It took her no more than five hours of good hard work to pack her one bedroom apartment and clear her head. Lennah had been by her self in the city on a month-to-month lease. Life as a freelance photographer meant uncertainty. She had to try. Mom needed the money with Dad gone. They'd barely hung on to the farm as it was. She rented a storage locker and jumped in her car for the six-hour drive to the family farm. A pleasant drive, a modest distance to keep.
"I'm serious about this, Ma." She said when she had a cup of tea in her hands. "Jack! Jack O'Neill! Was serious!"
"I understand." She sighed. "I just keep thinking he's one of your father's friends. All the fishing and carousing at late night hours."
Lennah smiled and snatched another piece of unguarded sausage. "I miss them, too."
Ma shot her a dirty look and rolled her eyes.
"Muddy boots on your coffee table. Beer bottles hidden in your daisies." Lennah goaded her until she laughed.
"You take after him so much," she sighed. There were tears in her eyes and not from laughing.
"That's why I need to go."
That night she spent on the front porch watching the stars. Mom heard the swing and came to see. She watched her daughter gaping up at the stars as if she'd never seen them. She understood what her daughter had tried to tell her.
She was called back to Cheyenne for final tests and immunizations. She signed the nondisclosure agreement with Woolsey as witness. He took great pleasure in hitting the button that raised the blast door.
And then, there it was. Whatever it was.
She was given a tomb of paper to read and a few videos to watch.
"Huh," was all that she could say. She didn't understand the 'how' just yet but she had already spent time coming to terms with the 'what'. Woolsey found this disappointing.
Jack came in to visit her and he was surprised by the calm on her face.
She chuckled. "How long for you?"
"Twelve years. About. Now."
"And with that?"
"Everyday, seemed like." He looked out the window and saw a team gearing up to head out. "God, I miss it."
Lennah stood beside him and watched as the Stargate moved like a turn dial phone. Jack watched her face as the unstable vortex lit. Her eyes bugged and she covered her mouth as it swung agape.
"So you think you made the right decision?" He toyed with her.
She slowly nodded her head without looking at him. The gate closed and Lennah was jerked back to reality. She looked up at the General and shrugged. "Thanks for the help there, by the way."
Jack nodded and rested a hand on her shoulder. Lennah wondered just how much O'Neill knew about how badly she needed this job.
"Well," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I know you've got a lot of reading to do so I'll make this quick... ish."
Lennah leaned against the window ledge as Jack poked at a few of the stacks of paper. Pamphlets fell as he leaned on the table. He disregarded them.
"You aren't going to be doing anything too mundane, like... fungus portraits. But, more importantly, you're going there to capture the... aesthetics of Atlantis."
Lennah gaped. "What?" She finally had that look people get when they find out how big their universe is.
"Atlantis." He said with a smile. "Nice place. Lots of water."
"Huh."
"You are going to be making the brochure." He concluded. His eyes darted to the side before he looked back at her. "For posterity."
"For when it goes public." She corrected redundantly.
"Exactly." Jack smiled. He had some bad experiences with media types in the past but he had high hopes for this one. "Just keep that shutter clicking around anything you may find interesting. Luncheons... Birthdays... Office parties."
Lennah nodded. "Good times. Bad jokes. Huh?"
Jack just smiled. "Oh, yeah, sure. You becha." Lennah realized just how brilliant Jack's smile was.
"You really think they'll need me there?"
"Ms. Colare, I have no idea what you're talking about."
She nodded understandingly and they stood in a nice silence for a while.
"So, Atlantis..."
"Pegasus Galaxy. Heard of it?"
Lennah's eyebrows rose. Shoulda figured. "And this thing can do that?"
Jack's answer was evasive. "Now and then."
"But I'm not--"
"No."
"Oh." Her face fell a bit. "So how--?"
"Intergalactic Spacebridge." Jack waved a finger with the words.
"Huh." She had a hard time meeting Jack's smile.
Lennah had a lot to learn about the universe.
