Author's Notes: So, not a deviation from the plot, very central to it actually. I hope it's not too obvious what's going on. Theorizing on The Fuselage lent me a major plot eureka. Muahaha, I can't wait...and thanks kind person who gave the first review. Nice to know someone's reading this. :-D Anyone, feel free to point out slight plot holes.There shouldn't be any. I've re-read it too much.

Final Destination
Episode #4:
Tea With Doctor Hanso

By Osiris-Ra

"Some people say a man is made outta mud

A poor man's made outta muscle and blood

Muscle and blood and skin and bones

A mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt

Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go

I owe my soul to the company store"

Robert Kinsey took a sip out of his gin canteen, looking on at the late afternoon horizon. It was a peaceful place to go this time of season. One could look out over the sea forever, letting time slip by without a worry. People care too much about time, Robert mused silently with a smug grin on his face. Time was something meant to be taken control of, yet somehow, people had allowed it to take control of them. Yes, time was simple to control. Other things...

"Mr. Kinsey? Dr. Hanso's arrived. He's in the lobby."

"Oh good." Kinsey turned down the song playing softly from a stereo system entombed in a classy looking oak shell.

"Send him in."

The secretary left with a nod. Mr. Kinsey rose from his seat to open the blinds a little wider. He liked the sunlight. It killed his claustrophobia with the illusion of great space, great control, great power.

A few minutes later, the door opened slowly, and a frail looking man in his late 50ies entered, a bear headed cane loosely held in one arthritic hand. He took off his wool cap and smiled weakly at Mr. Kinsey, who was pouring water into the coffee brewer.

"Good to have you back Hanso. Was it a good flight?"

"Ah, well, satistfactory. You know, gum doesn't help at all."

"Gum?"

"For the ears. I was practically deaf coming off the tarmac."

"Ah." Mr. Kinsey chuckled slightly and sat.

"They're better now, I hope?"

"Much."

"Have a seat, coffee? Tea? Soda?"

"Tea's fine. Earl Grey."

Mr. Kinsey poured.

"Progress report?"

Dr. Hanso crossed one leg and fidgeted with his cane. He began with a slight sigh.

"It's a simple matter, Senator. You give us the resources, we all get results. I'm patient. You want results quickly, it's completely your call."

"My call?" Kinsey laughed. "Funny how when something goes wrong you decide to spill it all over into my lap. Sugar?"

"No. Robert, I don't think you understand.You start a car off a slope too fast, nine times out of ten you wind up with junk metal.This is my work here. I take pride in it, and time. The fact is, our tech support is not...fit, not classified, studied, enough to fix what's gone wrong here.Without the proper knowledge of the system, any number of things could go wrong, and we have enough problems as it is. If we have propertechnicians with the proper knowledge to– "

"Alvar, I'm amazed at you. No matter how many times we bring you back, you're always the same old bastard."

Hanso stared.

"Look, Alvar, " Kinsey went on, swaggering his head, "you need money. So do I. Considering the impossible lengths we have gone to for the sake of keeping this project undercover, I think you should be thanking me, not squeezing me for money– which I do not have, by the way."

"I thought you were the producer, Senator. What good are you to me if you can't do your job?"

"I got you SG-1!" Kinsey bellowed. Hanso traced a finger around the rim of his tea cup.

"A military team doesn't pay staff bills, Senator."

"You could always go to the president. Of course that would kind of fail the purpose of this project. Since Oceanic left you in the lurch with the funding, and no other companies seem to fit your immaculate tastes, what can you do? I'm willing to help you, you're stuck with me! I can give you what I can, that's not everything, but it's something."

Kinsey took a slow sip of tea.

"As you know, I'm only in this for the glory." Kinsey said with a crude grin. "But don't get me wrong, I understand your situation all too well, Hanso. If its technical support you require, technical support you will get. All in time."

"They need to have the proper training. You can't whisk just any old amateur scientist off the street."

"If you read her file, you will know know that Major Carter is no amatuer."

"I did read her file. I'm very impressed and I thank you for providing her for this project, but she's only one woman. We need manpower."

"So it's a gender thing?" Kinsey sniggered.

"You know very well that's not what I mean." Hanso said with a repriminding tone.

"I know, I know. We will get you that. All in good time."

"What about funds?"

"All in good time."

Kinsey grinned. Hanso bit hard. It seemed no one but him understood the gravity of the situation.

"So, how do you plan to apply SG-1?"

"Well, your Major Carter has background in physics, astrophysiscs, some biology, medicine, if we can create a scenario which allows her to put that knowledge to work, we could get results and get out relatively soon, provided she has assistance by the proper technical support, you understand. Breathing bodies."

"Mm hmm."

"You can't expect her to know the program. She can learn the ropes, but to actually solve the problem you need extensive technical background in the project itself, numerology, coding, general referances - "

"Carter's a smart cookie. Or so I hear. She did blow up a sun."

"Mm, anyone can put C4 in a billion degree microwave."

"Well, I thought it was impressive. So can she get us out or not?"

"As I've said, not by herself. We already know what the problem is, we just have to get a body in there to fix it. She has extremely promising knowledge, otherwise I wouldn't have accepted your referance, she could do it, with a little help."

"Mm." Kinsey sounded thoughtfully. "How will you get the ball rolling?"

Hanso reclined complacently.

"One never runs out of stories, does one, Senator?"

"I surely hope not."

"So, we create a story for her. Something which we can work from, she can work from. Once she's orientated with the Island, how things work in her area, we can get her to slowly piece things together. She has a very unique career."

"That she does."

"Very unique. Even more secretive than Dharma. The things I imagine that woman has seen."

"Oh, she's been around the block, so to speak." Kinsey said with a dry grin.

"I've read a few of the mission briefings you sent along with her portfolio. This woman...she's had our very existance in her hands." Hanso said with a hint of awe.

Kinsey breathed a scoff.

"So!" Hanso went on. "Assuming she survives the preceding steps, we will initiate the default technical support already meshed into the computer interface, and see if she will be able to make anything out of it."

Mr. Kinsey had been frowning to himself, his seat swiveled around slightly, facing the large window and ocean scene behind him, stroking his cheek.

"Doctor. If this should fail, and the subjects don't survive, what do you plan to do with the project machinery itself?"

Hanso became silent. He rubbed his cane with his thumb absentmindedly.

"That won't happen, Senator."

"But if it does?"

Hanso looked up sharply, in a rather freakish way, Kinsey thought.

"This is a project aimed towards the betterment of the Human Race, Mr. Kinsey. This is not a project designed to fail."

He shifted slightly.

"I know your history, Senator. I don't allow new partners into my work without having a thorough check done on them. I understand you attempted to takeover the Stargate Project, a number of years ago, is that right?"

Kinsey's lips pursed to thin slits.

"First you attempted to shut it down, then you later attempted a takeover by the NID? Senator, The Dharma Initiative is not something that you can takeover and use to your own purpose. It isn't a tool of power. It's a tool of advancement."

"You don't consider advancement power, Al?"

"Not the way you think. It's sentient, Senator. Do you know what that means? Sentient? S-E-N-T-I-E-"

"I'm not an idiot, Hanso." Kinsey snarled. "I'm a man of progress."

"So am I, Mr. Kinsey. Now... my body may be expendable ... but my mind is not."

He rose, and resting on his cane, leaned slightly over the table.

"You're just muscle and blood after all, aren't you, Mr. Kinsey?"

He grinned slightly, then scooting his seat back, went towards the door. He picked his hat off the hat rack.

"I'll have my people contact you when everything's in place. I look forward to talking again. And uh...next time, send a boat, would you?"

He left.

The smirk leaving his face, Kinsey turned around and gazed out at the horizon. The rippling waves crashed over each other, jostling for position at some distant point on the vast sea. With a flick of a button on the remote, the song resumed on the stereo.

To Be Continued...

Lyrics Disclaimer: Sixteen Tons – Tennessee Ernie Ford