For two days, things went smoothly, with the only thing of note being the creation of Gavin Anderson, a bland individual with sandy hair and a dry sense of humor. He seemed to work well with Teyla, and would be the one actually piloting the Sanctus, the ship that the Athosians would be leaving the galaxy in.

On the third day though, the delegation returned. I had not forgotten the need to bring my family to Atlantis, and though all of our belongings were now safe, I still felt like making my displeasure known. To that end, I had Marcus and Cloe standing slightly in front of me, one step down on the grand staircase. Arrayed below them, the assault team stood ready, led by Jazz in the middle.

When the delegation entered, their eyes widened for a moment, then Daniel spoke up. "I thought you said that Atlantis was not to be a place of war," he said softly.

"Yes, what is the meaning of this, Imperator Alex?" Weir asked pointedly.

"Shortly after you left this city, my family was the target of an armed kidnapping. The perpetrators of this act were in full tactical gear, had automatic weapons, and likely had governmental backing. Now, since I know that my family has done nothing to warrant that sort of attention, I can only assume that someone thought to leverage my family against me. CS-1 is here as a visible expression of my displeasure. Mark my words. I. Am. Not. Happy," I said, my voice deceptively level and quiet.

"We were not aware of this grave injustice against you and your family," Rachell said softly, her tone placating.

After a moment's silence, in which the delegation squirmed under my gaze, I said "Good. I will not hold you accountable for what has happened. However, I will hold your government responsible. You will express my displeasure to them after you return to your vessel. CS-1, stand down."

"Sir, yes sir," Jazz replied, saluting. With that, the squad filed out of the Atrium, and I gestured towards the meeting room.

Light snacks and chilled water had been laid out, though the delegation looked at them with suspicion. "You had a big show of strength just a moment ago, you even said that you were displeased. Why the food and drink?" Sam asked. "More importantly, is it poisoned?"

"Most certainly not!" I answered, offended. "I said I would not hold you responsible. I am not going to cause pain and suffering to you as some sort of message to your government, that's sheer stupidity in the extreme. The matter concerning my family is not the topic of discussion here. That happens next meeting, when you bring word of your government's apologies for their actions, and proof of punishment to those who ordered it done."

"That's a tall order," O'Neill muttered.

"The C.O.N. wants to talk to you," Woolsey said. He withdrew a letter from his suit, and handed it to me.

"They can go to hell, and do creative things to themselves with a table leg whilst they are at it," I said blandly. "I will not work with the C.o.N." I opened the letter, and read the contents with a frown.

"Why not? They are trying to help the planet," Woolsey said.

"Uh-huh, sure," I replied, skepticism clear in my voice. "Tell me, if we can all pack ourselves into the city of Los Angeles, why haven't we? And by all of us, I mean, the entire human race as it stands today. The C.o.N. wants control over the entire human race. If one person cannot correctly live out his life, what makes you think a bureaucrat can help that same person live his life correctly?"

"Do you plan to teach hatred of the C.o.N.?" Woolsey asked. "Surely you will set up a school sometime in the future."

"We will teach freedom, sir," I stated. "Do you know what the words on that staircase mean?" I asked, waving my hand towards the doors. "I have sworn an oath to protect those who have not the strength to protect themselves, and to shelter refugees from tyranny under this very roof! Have you ever heard of the Azorius? They are fictional, but one sentence that describes them well is 'The Azorius have so many codes, laws, and regulations that you are always in violation of one or more of them'." I quoted. "The C.o.N. would do the same, and they aren't fictional. I will not work with a security risk such as they, and that is final."

"They simply want what's best for humanity and the planet," Woolsey persisted.

"They want to suppress the brightest light of humanity," I shot back. "They would shackle and chain humanity, and eventually destroy it. I on the other hand, would see humanity freed to pursue the stars and beyond. Eventually, perhaps humanity may know everything there is to know about the physical universe, and will be exploring other fields that our scientists cannot begin to dream of today. I want to end the suffering of humanity, not add to it."

"But…"

"Look it up, Woolsey. Examine their plans. Comprehend what they plan to do, and ask yourself if that's something you can agree with. When their plans involve killing off fifty percent or more of the human race, I refuse to even acknowledge them as legitimate. I can do far better than they can. There's a whole planet right next door. We could send our 'excess' population there," I said, waving air quotes around. "But, we have strayed far from the topic at hand. I would like you to meet Cloe Serran and Marcus Ignis. Cloe is in command of the Genesis project, and Marcus is the commander of the Adrestia Orbital Yards."

"Orbital? As in, space ships, and big honking space guns?" O'Neill asked, leaning forward with interest.

Marcus' mouth twitched slightly. "A crude description," he said at last. "But reasonably accurate."

"I hope any orbital weapons you build will not be pointed at Earth," Sam spoke up.

"No. They are earmarked for system defense only. The Alterran Empire does not plan to be an overly militant nation," I responded.

"The Imperator was…reluctant to place orbital weaponry at all," Marcus said. "It was only at my insistence that the plans were even drawn up."

"Is Marcus calling the shots now?" Weir asked, sipping at her water.

"No," Marcus answered.

"I call the shots," I said. "But I trust the advice given to me by the people working with me. Marcus outlined the potential for a threat, and I have agreed with his proposed course of action in this instance. It's call cover your ass(ets)," I explained.

"That certainly makes sense," Weir noted, nodding slightly. "I can respect that."

"What is the, uh, Genesis project?" McKay asked. "That's the sort of name that could be a weapons project."

"It isn't," Cloe said. "Genesis is to be the first base of operations on Mars."

"It sounds like you are simply doing things, not working with anyone on this," O'Neill said. "Are you just doing your own thing here?"

"Yes, I am taking my own path," I answered. "Atlantis is a sovereign nation, and can do as she pleases. You are being informed as a courtesy."

Just then, a low-level alarm sounded, and I turned to Arin, who had just entered. "What's the alarm?" I asked.

"That is a launch sequence warning," Marcus stated. "I informed you of the launch yesterday."

"Ah. Yes, of course," I said distractedly.

"Did you say 'launch sequence'?!" several voices cried at once.

"Yes. Arin, could you get me video, please? I'd like to watch this," I ordered.

"Certainly." Arin gestured, and a screen dropped out of the ceiling. It flickered for a moment, then began showing a view from a camerapoint on the Main Tower. A six piece iris door was opening on the Southeast Pier, and smoke was billowing out.

"Combustion engines, Marcus?" I asked.

"No usage of a Zero Point Module," Marcus explained.

"So, the thruster fuel is…?" I trailed off, letting Marcus fill in the blank.

"Hydrox," Marcus stated. "It's cheap, and easy to get a hold of. Once in orbit, it switches over to the RCS thruster family. What shall we call it?"

"Atmospheric Oscillator," I said.

"Very well. She will reach full power in two minutes," Marcus said, prodding his tablet.

"What are you launching?" O'Neill demanded.

"A frigate. Custos-class," Cloe responded.

There was a mild thump felt through the floor, and a plume of fire came out of the completely open hatch.

"Imperator, we are being hailed," Arin said.

"If you can, split the display, and open a channel," I answered.

On the left of the screen, the view of the ascending Custos remained, on the right, a Starfleet bridge appeared. "This is the Federation starship Enterprise, are you having trouble down there? We're seeing a lot of smoke and flame."

"All systems are nominal," Marcus replied, prodding his tablet. "Thermal splash is well within acceptable limits. We have liftoff; the vessel is away."

As he spoke, the vessel lifted away from the pier, and began to accelerate upwards and forwards, riding on a whirlwind of heat and flame.

"Are you planning on doing that again?" the Starfleet officer asked.

"Yes, in about two days. After that, no," I answered. "We are working on construction of an orbital drydock. That will involve a single ballistic launch, but beyond that, we do not plan to use Atlantis as a main launch site."

"Understood. Enterprise out." The feed cut out, and switched back to the cameras tracking the Atmospheric Ocillator.

"We are being hailed again, Imperator," Arin said.

"Onscreen."

"This is Captain Benjamin Wainwright, United States Navy. What in God's name was that launch?!" came the frantic demand. "The Pentagon is currently shitting themselves."

"Then put their minds to rest," I responded, nonchalant. "That was a Custos class vessel, one of two such vessels, intended for in-system operations. It's just an orbital defense fleet, nothing to worry about."

"Well, I'm sure the Pentagon will be happy to hear that, and even happier to see their satellite feeds confirm it. You aren't planning anything else, are you?"

"Two more launches, one will be a second Custos, and the second will be a ballistic launch, destination will be high Mars orbit," I replied. I leaned forward in my chair. "I'm not here to make war on you, or any other petty nation on this world," I said, blithely ignoring the cries of outrage. "I've got bigger fish to fry. You could nuke the great shield to absolutely no more effect than my putting on sunglasses. Straight up, you pose no threat to me, and I don't feel like taking over the world. With that in mind, tell the Pentagon to quit getting their panties in a bunch, and carry on." With that, I nodded slightly to Arin, who cut the feed.

"Quite the conversationalist," Jack mumbled.

The group laughed, and I replied "Well, you know. Launch a ship, and half the planet loses their damn mind."

"It'd be easier if you could just beam your ships into orbit." Jack answered.

"Well, beaming seems to be an Asgard-" my world turned white.

And, another chapter is done. What will happen next chapter? Stay tuned!

stephenopolos: Yeah, sorry about that. I'm trying to get better about that, but it's difficult to do at times. For instance, with the ARV-1, how do I split it's description out so it's not a shopping list?