Smite 1701

by Richardson

At the end of SG S-7 episode "Grace", something is found out in the outer solar system that will rock Anubis's world. No matter where it is, no matter what form it takes, wherever she goes, she always changes everything. Spoiler SG-S7.

11. Ch 10 Ashes to Glory

Smite +1701

Part 10: Ashes to glory

"Like the phoenix, it will all rise again."

//Outer Rim//

The ash was still falling. It had been coming down for almost 2 years, now. Since they had stood their ground, and fallen. He looked out into the dark skies, the ash clouds that forced them to wear breathers still. The skies that had betrayed them, that had let the Goa'uld come. The parasites were supposed to be no match for them. Where had it all gone wrong? Maybe the dammed Taur'i had been right all along. No matter now, no gate, no hope. Only a few thousand left. Every ship that had tried to escape from the underground hangers had gone down in flames.

He frowned, as the ash clouds began to glow, looking up at the aurora effect beyond. They had never done that before. He studied it, coming to the conclusion that a battle was being fought close in to the atmosphere, the discharges ionizing the upper reaches. One master exchanged for another. He sat down, the softly falling ash slowly dusting him down as he attempted to understand the movements above from the way the auroras moved.

There. The sudden flash indicated a reactor going critical. The clouds roiled for a moment, before the sight of small chunks of Ha'tak falling in the distance came to him. He looked back to the clouds, watching the bright lights above. His people could not take another master. This was their last echo.

Strange. He had never just looked up at the sky like this before. Not before, when the gentle, deceiving stars were out, not to look up at first the fires of their original home world, or the glow of molten crust far beyond more recently when Anubis had taken his wrath out upon them. It seemed that the Taur'i way had at last infected him.

He chuckled for a bit, before fishing around in the thick ash on the ground, feeling for his weapon. He would at least go down on his own terms, if it came to it. Let them come.

Arcs of bluish light raced across the sky, hundreds of them, and another great flash, this time a faint clap of a detonation accompanying it. A low, rumbling moan echoed through the air, before scaling in pitch. The clouds roiled in a way that suggested something had passed through them not a few moments before. That was new. After the first month, no death glider had dared enter the atmosphere. A new propulsor, as well.

Multiple thunderclaps, now, explosions blowing open the cloud momentarily in the distance, the echoing sound of a strange electronic yowling chirp that repeated itself many a time over going continuously now. The way it sounded, it seemed to be the echo of whatever weapon the new invaders were using. Perhaps not all that powerful, considering how rapidly it sounded out in bursts.

The overhead auroras had died down now, the battle above apparently over. He smiled grimly, warning on his comm link that trouble would be approaching shortly. At least his people were warned. The rumbling moan passed overhead again, this time slower, a formation of the craft now, a line of disturbances across the skies. He looked up, frowning as the dim spot of a spotlight trying to shine through the clouds appeared.

The air began to vibrate, a deep roar developing, ion engines in an atmosphere. Definitely not Goa'uld, then. A faint thought passed through his mind, what if... what if the Asgard had come, what if the Taur'i had managed to understand and replicate the Ion Cannon given to them, and had managed to complete the battle cruiser they had been working on. Could it be...

4 disk-shaped transports dipped out of the skies, forward mandibles mounting lights that tracked across the ashen plain. Something new... the roar of Ion drivers grew ever louder, the four transports spotting him, slowly settling down, the mysterious moaning fightercraft finally dipping down out of the ever-present ash. They looked like sleek black angular deathgliders, but with arments that had never been seen on one before.

He charged his weapon, just in case, as the four transports touched down into the soft ash, cycling down some, before a figure stood up from a hatch on one.

"Hello! This would be the the Taur'i express rescue service! Need a lift?" English... Narim smiled broadly, thankful that the best had come to pass.

"Yes! Thank you for at least coming! How did you-" He had so many questions, about how they had done it, what those fighters were, what had happened in the intervening years!

"We'll explain later. We need to know where you guys are situated at so we can drop the Prometheus for a landing! We'll drop the loading ramp!" The figure ducked back down into the strange transport, a loading ramp indeed lowering down from the side with a whine of hydrolics. He took only a moment to look about at the destroyed landscape, before rushing up to the craft, climbing up the ramp.

The austere interior matched the utilitarian exterior, and definitely seemed to be Taur'i military construction. But, he hardly spared a glance at it, instead looking at the man waiting at the top. He wasn't in the uniforms he had come to associate with the Taur'i. He was different. Had a slight regal air to him.

The gray, stark uniform had only one conceit to how the Taur'i marked status amongst their forces, the multiple bars indicating a commander of forces. Strange that they were on his shoulders, though. He extended his hand in greeting, and Narim took it, shaking in their way, glad to see the 'primitive, backwards' Taur'i. Which culture had so far withstood the might of the Goa'uld so far, after all?

"Sorry about the delay. We've been stuck handling one crisis after another, and haven't been able to get the Prometheus free until now." The commander let go, and gestured forward and to the offset control cabin. Narim bowed back to him, before taking up the invitation.

"It is rather remarkable that you have managed to make it out here at all. Thank you for your assistance, though I fear a few small transports will not be enough to move 10,000 of my people." Narim stepped through the pressure door, looking out in a slight bit of surprise, and some of finally returned bemusement that the Taur'i had advanced far enough technologically to have lifted off without him even noticing the slight lurch.

"That's what the Prometheus is for. Earth's first frigate. She should be enough to get us back to Earth, and get all of you into cover there." The commander had climbed in beside him, rubbing at a slight goatee that he appeared to be attempting to grow.

"If I understand your language correctly, a frigate is a small naval vessel, correct?" Narim leaned over the pilots, orienting himself, and pointing in the direction of the local mountain chain, a few miles off. His transponder would keep them from outright destroying all the transports, but there would still be rather pointed questions.

"Right. She's still enough to reliably handle two Anubis uprated Ha'taks at once." The commander watched a tic in Narim's face, seeing him trying to handle the fact that Earth had somehow caught up, indeed sprinted ahead of the Tollans in some areas. "Still a work in progress, though. We're trying to finish off the last refit so she'll be fully operational, but the structural work we're about to do to her will have to wait until we get another ship patrolling our system."

"You have not even completed it? No, the more pertinent question is how did you develop the technology to effectively manage a feat such as the one you suggest it can do." Narim entered in his identification code into his comm unit, a Taur'i concept that had caught on since the burning. The Tollan had a few fears, that the Taur'i were not ready for such power, but, at the same time, the cinder of Tollana was reason enough to say that enough was enough, and that it was time to throw the rules out the window, as the Tollan's rescuers would say.

"Oh... They didn't really develop it, so much as refine what was brought to them by my ship. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to get back when they're done with it." Sheridan smiled with an unhealthy glee, considering the sheer firepower that might be unleashed. The true deserving ship of the classification 'STAR destroyer'.

"You let the Taur'i have unfettered access to your ship? Are you MAD?" Narim used his considerable self-control to keep from crashing the ship and running in terror. They were almost at the mountain refuge. He hoped he'd be safe again there. Doubted it, though.

"No... slightly off-kilter, possibly. Have my own plans, most definitely. I've read the reports on your people. Frankly, the Taur'i don't need your help anymore. They've bounded to nearly as high on the technology ladder as a people can go now. Their madness... their wonderful interesting madness has been unleashed upon the galaxy, and nothing will stop it now. The question is, will your people try to outrun it futilely, or are you going to grab onto the controls and hang on for dear life?" Sheridan looked out the windows, seeing the mountain as the ship slowed down.

"How could we control the way the galaxy moves?"

"There is a station being built in the sol system. An anchorage unlike any before. The first hub of a new galactic civilization. And I plan on using the technology from my ship to mold it to my will. Think about it. We'll drop you off wherever you want, but I would recommend coming home with us. You'd be surprised as to what you see." Sheridan ducked out of the cockpit compartment as the ship settled down, talking into a comm-link that was strapped to his hand. Prometheus came for her charges, a big blocky gray angel from above.

//3 hours later//

Well, that had gone rather well, all things considered. The Tollan had agreed to at least stay at Babylon station for a while, and were already ready to go. Had been ready to go for ages. He leaned back in one of the aft cockpit seats of the Galileo, looking across to Narim, who semi-sullenly watched the Prometheus launching from the ground, the gray and white frigate gently lifting off with anti-gravs, sending a swirling plume of ash into the air. The Galileo banked as the rumbling shock wave of disturbed atmosphere passed, shaking slightly, as the Prometheus lifted up into the air.

Narim held on, knuckles going white as he worried that the ship would crash. Sheridan looked over, smiling a bit at the nervousness of the Tollan. Nothing much to worry about, though. He had been told of the comparison between his fond old imperial tech, and that of the 'Russian federation'. Dirt Cheap, dirt simple, perfectly reliable, and pure concentrated amazing.

"Forgive me, my brothers, if I have led us to our doom..." Sheridan's smile slowly died, as he realized what he had forced Narim to do. The same choice that he had made, with far less factors that would let him be forgiven by those who had begun to look up to him. He had given him one of those... Kobiashu Marus. That was it. Dammed if he did, dammed if he didn't.

Sheridan looked away, turning to the reactor readout, trying to be interested in it, as the pilots plotted a course out of the atmosphere. This wasn't what he wanted. He hadn't wanted to break what was left of the Tollan, which was likely what was about to happen. Dammit, he had to start thinking things through before wildly blundering into them. He was supposed to be a star destroyer captain, not acting like an impulsive foolish captain of a corvette.

He shook his head slowly for his actions, before rolling his shoulders to work out the tension that had wormed it's way into his back. Burdens of command indeed. So that is what his beloved captain had been talking about. A shame he had been up in the command tower when it had been blown clean through by that... squidish craft. Thingy. Creature... whatever it was that had so nearly destroyed them in concert with that black menace.

"Narim, is it? I apologize for having put you in this position. I... went through about the same two months ago, when we first came here. I sympathize with what you're going through. But... I had no choice. We need a race that others look up to in order to help cement the alliances we're starting to put together." Sheridan turned around, looking up to the pilots, who put on their helmets and switched to active noise canceling to let their captain have a private talk. He turned back to Narim, who was looking ahead through the clouds of choking ash and dust.

"Why not the Nox, then? Why us? Surely you have been told of how the Tollan refuse to lend technology or trade with anyone. My people have entrenched themselves even further into that position with the recent events. We hoped beyond hope that the Taur'i would help us, and we received no such thing." Narim was... bitter. Melancholy, disgusted that things had been stooped so low. He felt... weary, tired of the fighting, of the constant maneuvering to keep the worse elements of Tollan society from taking over. Tired of Anubis, the Goa'uld, the Taur'i. Tired of having to deal with the whole thrice-dammed galaxy.

Oh, look, ash had collected on his shoulder... Narim brushed it off slowly, taking time with it as he let his mind shut down most of the way. He hadn't realized how hard the past two Taur'i years had been on all of them. He was so...

"Narim, Narim!" Sheridan's voice seemed to float in the air, as he felt himself being rolled over. He realized he had fallen over. A small amused smile crossed his own face, as he looked up into Sheridan's. "Stay awake, until I can get one of the doctors aboard the Prometheus to look at you. Narim, listen to me. Pay attention!" He blinked as he tried to focus in on Sheridan, feeling the captain prop him up, lifting him up to roll him back into the seat.

It was all so overwhelming... oh... look, stars. He smiled more broadly, at seeing the stars for the first time in so long. He could see the Prometheus, gently floating beside them, along with all 9 other transports that had come. He reached for them, trying to get up, before Sheridan grabbed it back down. A noise permeated the numbness that he had swaddled himself in, and Sheridan seemed to panic somewhat at that, hurriedly strapping one of the Taur'is primitive restraints over him, before jumping back into his own seat, strapping down as well.

Then, the engines of the craft before them began to glow white hot, before they began to blur and jump ahead at impossible speeds, each vanishing with a bright flash and a faint afterimage. A whine built up from somewhere within the craft, and then the stars filled the forward view ports solid with streaks, and he blacked out, knowing nothing more.

//SGC, 12 hours later//

"So, General, what seems to be the problem? You seem rather tense today. Honestly, it can't be about the fiasco on P9X-483 still is it?" Jack O'neill watched from his cheap plastic chair as his favorite buggable commanding officer paced around the briefing room. They were about halfway through the move to the new site at Fort Avalon, which certainly wasn't helping anyone at the SGC relax, but this seemed to be a bit more serious.

"It was supposed to be, Col., until our mutual business partner and associate Captain Sheridan decided to steal the Prometheus for something he claimed to be a 'urgent priority mission'. He also took all of the gunship transports and has not been seen, with or without the Prometheus since. No contact, no traces of her hyperwake at any of our automated tracking outposts, it's like he disappeared off the map." General Hammond shook his head as he walked, before stopping at the windows overlooking the Stargate, a deep scowl on his face as he pondered what could have happened to the ship.

"I haven't been able to find them with any of the sensors we borrowed from the Enterprise, nor has her own sensor suite been able to find them since we re-mounted it on Babylon to detect them." Carter looked back to her laptop, writing new algorithms that would hopefully increase the resolution and range on the sensors. A large mug she had just been given sat beside her, steaming ever so slightly.

Daniel looked at it, smiling for a moment, before Carter glared at him and drew her mug closer to herself, shifting it around so the logo on the front of it was visible. 'Alpha Geek' indeed... Daniel innocently chuckled, before going back to organizing the foot-tall stack of briefing aides he had brought with him, shuffling the various bits into a neat orderly pile.

Teal'c looked between the two of them, an eyebrow raising as he pondered the significance of the mug. He personally had no materials to bring for the briefing, other than word of mouth from goings on at the beta site. He cleared his throat, making Daniel and Carter look to him for a moment. The new half of SG-1 were fighting over the few donuts left over from the former first prime's pre-briefing assault on the donut cache that Jack had brought in, before noticing that everyone had begun looking at them.

Shaking his head slightly, Khaar wondered what he had done to deserve such an insane team. "Gentlemen, the general would like to get on with his briefing, stop." Dell and Stari looked between each other for a moment, before putting the delcair down and wiping their hands with a few napkins. No harm done yet. Khaar turned to General Hammond, politely performing a sitting bow, which the general nodded his head in thanks for.

"Thank you Lt. Would you happen to have any insight at all as to where Captain Sheridan might have been going with the Prometheus?" Hammond sat down in his seat, wondering if things would ever get normal at the SGC as he settled into the grumbling chair. Probably not, this was likely as close as he would ever get to it, considering what the SGC had gone through in 7 years.

Khaar sat back a bit, thoughts running through his mind as to what could be going through his captain's head. It took him a fair bit to think through what all had seen his captain doing over the past two months. "Reports. Mission reports, in fact."

General Hammond nodded, he had watched the Imperial captain suck up mission reports like a sponge for several weeks as he caught up with the current situation in the program. Which gave him a thought. He'd have to check with the 2002 series of files again, the captain had been highly interested in them when he had gone through the archives. "Did he ever let you see which ones, Lt.? Any information you have could be vital for our success in locating him."

"I'm not sure. I saw one in particular that he looked at multiple times, but I didn't get close enough to identify it as a particular file. He mentioned something about Anubis, and a word that sounded like tomana, tolara..."

"Tollana..." The chorus from most of SG-1 and General Hammond stopped him, as they turned to each other and started chattering amongst themselves in rapid-fire questioning and conversation. They seemed to be speaking a short-hand gibberish to the Imperials,who tried to swivel their heads rapidly to keep up with the mad near-argument. They were mad, it was a well-established fact by that point.

"Sir, Dr. Jackson, Teal'c, shouldn't we be asking how much firepower he took, in case he ran into trouble?" Stari sipped his large mug from the on-base defac, the sound of his last gurgling slurps helping to break up the running argument. Khaar slowly put his hand to his face, still wondering how he had screwed up so bad as to get that particular clone. Last time he had bothered asking the old captain, he had just cryptically smiled before shutting his door in the Lt's face.

Stari set his mug down, chuckling ever so slightly as he noticed the surprised looks on the faces of the SGC old guard and General Hammond. Wonderful thing, playing dumb. It let you get away with all sorts of naughty things. "Honestly, what? I'm obnoxious, not stupid. Captain Sheridan comes from the Imperial school of negotiations, shoot first, demand a surrender later. We've been designing a new smaller bulk freighter, and the prototype is already built, but instead he takes the frigate that's being worked on. Why? He's expecting at least a Ha'tak."

Jack nodded his head, having to agree with the sentiment. "He makes a point, General. If he did go to Tollana, he's probably expecting Anubis to have Ha'taks in that general area. The Prometheus is at least combat worthy, after all." Jack leaned back in his seat, as Carter looked at him slightly funny. A bad thought came to his mind, and he looked back to her. He really, really hoped that he wasn't right for once. "It is space worthy, right?"

"Sort of, sir."

"Crap."

"I hope not sir."

"Col. O'neill, when Captain Sheridan gets back with the Prometheus, I want a long chat with him. Bring him to my office as soon as he shows up." General Hammond had a stern look on his face, as Carter fiddled with her laptop again, looking intently at it. He looked over to her for a moment, before looking over to Jackson, clasping his hands together on the table and straightening out some. Time for something to take their minds off the Grand Theft Starship. "Dr. Jackson, would you care to give your presentation now?"

"Oh, uh, yes General." Daniel jumped up, turning on the projector, and pulling apart his stack of documents, passing everyone at the table a copy of his report on the ancient complex. "P9X-483. It's what we've been looking for, one of the Ancient's major cities."

"Say again, Dr. Jackson?" General Hammond was flicking through the folder for a moment, before the thought of Ba'al in charge of a city fully of the equipment of the ancients stopped him. He solemnly slumped back in his seat, looking up to Jackson, who nodded gravely. "Oh."

"Yes,and likely he's begun moving Ha'taks in, so we can't make a move until the Enterprise comes online, General. This could be catastrophic, but there is nothing we can do at the moment." Daniel pushed his glasses back up his nose, pulling out a laser pointer alongside the projector remote, clicking over to his main find on the city. The memorial mural.

Jack's eyebrows went up as he remembered that particular incident with a slight bit of annoyance, remembering how hard he had to pull to drag Daniel away from it. It looked a lot like what he had taken a glimpse at while yelling at the little space monkey. A few dozen big words, likely, describing some wonderful achiev- wait, was that... it looked like mutilated people. What the heck? That couldn't be right. The ancients were into peace and harmony and fluffy bunny stuff...

"Umm... Daniel, are you sure that this city was created by the ancients? This doesn't seem to be their style. Maybe Goa'uld tacky, but not ancient." Jack eyed the projection of the mural, wondering who had really put it on the wall. Something pricked at his brain, like he had seen parts of it before. He looked back at the picture, snatches of words coming to mind. Re- Red? Recl? What was that...

"JACK!"

The Col. snapped back into the real world, shaking his head rapidly, trying to clear out the confusion. He looked at Daniel and Teal'c across from him, who both had concerned looks on their faces. What had he been thinking about again? And why were they looking at him like he had...

"I started spouting Ancient-flavored babble again?" Jack looked around at everyone, not sure what had just happened.

"A little bit. You seemed to be trying to remember a word or something. This has to be ancient, then, and important if it's dragging memories clean out of what is supposed to be dead and buried knowledge from your repository experience." Daniel straightened himself up as he looked back to the mural projected on the wall. He had suspected so. Too bad they had to go so fast.

"It can't be, Daniel, the Asgard removed all of the knowledge from his head. There is no way that he could be starting to go into remission now." Carter shook her head in worry over he CO, who just pointedly looked over to her.

"I still want to know what the heck the whole head-suck episode you people refer to is. Seriously, it sounds like something out of a bad horror holovid." Dell mimed what he thought they were talking about, pretending to have a giant alien going after his face. Toral groaned in disappointment as the two clones had a balled up piece of paper from the Col. bounce off of them.

"I give you a 3 on the good performance scale."

"3 out of 5 isn't bad." "Three out of ten." "Oh..."

"JACK! Are we done yet?" Daniel was about ready to crumple the roll of briefing documents in his hand as he waited for the silliness to end. Jack just gave him a look, before settling down into his seat. Daniel cleared his throat, getting a sympathetic look from General Hammond before continuing. "Right, this mural, while I haven't fully translated it yet, speaks of the ancients founding a secondary colony far off somewhere, during one of their travels. The... city-ship helped to found a galactic civilization there, one that eventually settled to a galactic peace. Following that, they mostly pulled out, allowing a new race that had begun to develop to take over. They apparently called the ancients the 'precursors', and tried to emulate them. Then, an indeterminate time later, close to the end of the ancients civilization, there came a massive threat that they called for help against."

"Does it say what that threat was, DanielJackson?"

"No, not that we have translated so far. It does say that the allies were wiped out, along with nearly the expedition, and most of the the life in that galaxy. However, they had some sort of re-seeding program, and set up apparently a re-seeding of the ancients evolutionary roots in that galaxy, possibly as a way of paying tribute to them. Where this galaxy is, I don't know, but quite likely it would be a good place to look for help, if we can find a Stargate address for it." Daniel moved his pointer over to what appeared to be the other race's knockoff Stargate.

"So...Dannyboy, where are we- let me guess, we've got to go back to find it." Jack groaned as he realized just what he would have to do now. No luck, no luck at all. Well, other than the Enterprise, but still, no luck.

"DanielJackson. The course of action you suggest will put us into direct confrontation with Ba'al. A prospect I do not look forward to. By now, he will have moved as many of his Jaffa as he can spare to the city." Teal'c was none too fond of the possibility of having to go back to the ancient city, no matter what was there. Not without the full 1701st backing him up. And the Enterprise providing close air support.

"It's less of a problem of going back, and more of one of finding it. I've found out why the lost city is so hard to find." Daniel changed the slide again, to show a section of the mural depicting the city launching into space, the team's hearts sinking, while one began thumping with hope for a possibility...

"You're saying that the ancients cities were all space-flight capibile, Dr. Jackson?" General Hammond had leaned up over the table, every alarm bell he had ringing as he looked up to the city. "So, Ba'al could have taken the city anywhere in the galaxy?"

"I'm not so sure about that odoriferous and disturbing possibility General. Myself, Stari, and Teal'c may have pulled the regulators for the city." Toral searched through his own briefing packet, before locating the pictures in question. He slid them across the table after taking a look quickly to make sure he had the correct ones. Strange bits for regulators, or whatever they were. "These right here. We grabbed two. We were going to take three, but that shut the city down."

"So you believe he likely cannot get the city off the ground?" General Hammond relaxed, thankful that at least Ba'al couldn't get away with his prize. At Toral's hopeful nod, he looked to Carter, who started pulling up power consumption data on what few ancient devices they had recovered, to see possibilities. "Well, Major? Do we have enough data to tell?"

"No sir. Not at this time, though if they are regulators, or some sort of batteries, the city would be on 1/3rd power. It might not be enough, but, I'm forced to agree with other sentiments here. We need to send as large a force as possible, as quickly as feasible to secure the city. Ba'al is already fielding new armor for his soldiers, and he may have been inspired by our hover tank. His armor was certainly somewhat based upon the Stormtrooper armor on our new teams." Carter looked away from her computer, thinking of a few worst case scenarios that could potentially occur, should Ba'al be... in an inspired mood by the month's events. Certainly all the system lords were upgunning their ships and equipment, the inertia of previous millennium shattered by the past few years. Twinges of thoughts ran through her mind. Why now, why at all? What had changed, now, in the past year that had started the trend now?

"I will see what further information I can get on any of our shipyard projects, if we have anything space worthy, I will have an expedition ready as swiftly as possible. Major, is there any sign of Captain Sheridan, or the Prometheus on sensors?" Hammond nodded as he quietly made a note to himself. One long, long talking to was in order. This had pushed the limit, and the captain would be hard pressed to get out of the situation he had pushed himself into this time.

"I've reconfigured to look for either our own type of hyperdrives, or his now. No sign still." Carter apologetically responded as she stayed glued to her screen.

:"Keep us posted, Major. Dismissed."

//The er... 'courtroom' of Q//

"What the..."

The sounds of raucous taunts and shouts of outrage filled the air, waking Captain Sheridan from his deep slumber he had been in. The cold hard grate he was laying on helped to jerk him back awake, as he looked around at the horrendous crowd that surrounded him on towering stadium seating, blood-red banners draped from pillars, a golden eagle standard resting upon them. "Not good... "

The filthy crowd continued to shout from nearly to the rafters, looking like a court of hobos and vagabonds. Warning bells were ringing in every last one of Sheridan's alert speakers in the back of his mind, as he slowly and carefully backed to the wall, watching the crowd slowly step down and move towards him. He could feel that he had none of the knifes that he had fallen to sleep with on him still, whoever had put him in the strange courtroom had done a good job on disarming him. They had even gotten the disassembled knife he had hidden in his pauldrons.

Two bursts of gunfire dispersed the crowd some, driving them back as two soldiers in strange padded uniforms fired their carbines into the roof. Sheridan slowly looked between the two as they drove the crowd back into the stands, the icy feeling of dread growing, as he watched them huff some sort of chemical from a chest dispenser. The gonging ring of a bell sounded, and the captain slowly turned his head to look at an asian herald, who scowled in his direction.

"I see you are already ready to present honors, prisoner. Good. Much better than the last ones. All rise, for the honorable... Judge Q!!" He rang his instrument again, the crowd standing up in awe and silence.

Sheridan winced, as he remembered just where he had seen it all before. First he becomes real-life science fiction, then he took himself a little stroll down a yellow brick road next door to Star Trek. Kriffing perfect.

"I find your thoughts annoying, mortal."

Sheridan looked up slowly, craning his neck until he could look up into the eyes of the self-proclaimed god. "Let me guess. Should only need one try. Q." He warily relaxed his pose, looking up into the crimson-robed being's face. He was showing off a bit more than what he had apparently put on for TV, since he seemed to be real.

"Oh, testy, but correct el capitano. I know what you're thinking, I've decided to put humanity on trial here, or that this is your own personal trial." Q looked down at the Imperial captain, waving the crowd and his guards back as he slowly lowered his chair some. The smug grin on his face was all Sheridan needed to keep it business-like.

~Treat him as a force-adept of the Emperor,and just don't do anything... rash, that's it...~ "The thought had crossed my mind. But, if this isn't a trial of humanity, or of myself, then what? As far as I know, you only use this for your... little shows, so you're putting something to the test here." Sheridan stepped forward, over the stool he was supposed to be sitting on, to get closer to Q. Better to be close enough to him that hopefully the faux soldiers wouldn't open fire on him.

"Interesting... he's smarter than he looks, isn't he folks?" Q turned looking at his audience, who all cheered and laughed as the power incarnate enjoyed his show. "You are indeed perceptive, captain. I'm not putting you, or your pitiful race on trial. Both obviously are not yet ready for such a daunting event. No, ooh-ho no, I have a bigger game to play, el capitano." Q leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up some. Sheridan seemed to be an excellent new rival to spar with.

"So I'm guessing I'm either a witness, or evidence to whatever show you have to play, I assume?" Sheridan sat down, ignoring the angry glances from the guards to his sides as he glared up at the pest above. Thoughts of what exact game could be in play crossed his mind, wondering just how long he would be getting put through the wringer for.

"Once again, perceptive, one track, intriguing, and so utterly wrong." Q leaned forward, as he inspected the captain. Should he show him the true shape of the game, and watch as his puny mortal mind unravel from the universal truths revealed to him, should he borrow his dear rival Palpatine's methods and turn Sheridan into his pawn, willing or unwitting? Oohhh, the delicious choices to be had!

"So, what is going on? Or will you just be talking at me for the next few minutes?" Sheridan made a show of yawning, and feigning disinterest to try and bait the superbeing. He looked at his crono, before leaning back against the wall. "Feel free to babble if you're going to anyway. I'll just be sitting over here."

"Giving up already? That seems so...lackluster, for a captain of the Imperial Navy. Aren't you all supposed to be hard-lining, straight arrowing your way to victory?" Q verbally tripped at the sudden disinterest from the formerly hard-biting captain. That wasn't right, not at all. Mortals were supposed to make sense.

"Well, if it's not having anything to do with me, directly or indirectly, then I have no need to really find out. I mean, if it's played amongst the higher beings of the local reality, then why does it concern us? So long as you keep it on your upper planes, I don't see a reason for myself to know about it." Sheridan worked at the underside of a nail, pretending to clean it. "Unless you're that insecure, and you feel a need to tell everyone everything that goes on in you life, at which point I really don't want to know, and want to back to the ship."

"Wouldn't you like to find out what piece you play? Honestly, you're being a pawn for every being that comes along." Q played with his hands like a magician, revealing a pawn with Sheridan's face upon it. He wobbled it along, playing with the personalized pawn piece, before vanising it back into the void from which it came. "You could be so much more than a pawn. You have potential, you know. Far more than you know. You could be so much more..."

"Not interested in becoming your own personal pawn, Q." Sheridan narrowed his eyes, warily keeping track of the would-be god as he performed his semi-grand measures before him.

"Are you really sure, captain? Think of it, a galaxy to mold in your own image..., your concept of right and wrong to be spread across the stars. You can do what you need to do to protect your men, to do what needs to be done. You have powerful allies, Sheridan. More powerful than you could possibly imagine." Q pulled out a handkerchief,draping it over his hand, and pulling it off to reveal a new figure of Sheridan.

This time, he did move up. In all black, the small figure stood tall, a hand out in warning, a gauntlet upon it. Not a robe, but a black uniform, a semi-cloak upon his miniature form. Admiral epaulets lined his shoulders, a dark look upon his face. Whisps of things swirled around the figure, images of possibilities swirling about him. And what looked like a sword in his other hand, blood dripping from the blade.

"A champion. Of what,~" Q pulled the figure away, making it vanish. Sheridan stepped back, realizing how close he had gotten, before looking down at his own hands, as if seeing blood there. Did he po- wait, no, it couldn't be...

"Of what, I'll let you decide, Capitan." Q sat back in his chair, grinning as Sheridan started to say something, before glaring at the superprick above him. Q frowned once again as Sheridan began to calm himself down and control his reaction. He had a better temper than Picard, or at least controlled it better. "Consider it my game, for now. Since you're so eager for a challenge, find what you are really standing for. Perhaps I might drop by to check on you later, give you a few more hints. Catch."

Sheridan had only half a second, as Q fast-pitched a glittering faceted object at him, throwing his hands up to catch it, only to find himself getting knocked backwards by the impact. Q gave a little wave to him as he reeled backwards, off balance. "See you soon, Sheridan..."

Sheridan banged the back of his heels against the backplate of the fresco that should have been behind him, only to flip clean over it, falling into a quickly expanding black void. Stars appeared around him as he fell, swiftly leaving the physical boundaries of the courtroom behind, falling through a starry void, hearing his own shouting cry in his ears, along with what sounded like the wind in his ears. A nebula wisped by, and he looked below him, to see the sight of the Galileo rushing up towards him, and all went black.

Q vanished the scenery, going back to his currently preferred haunt for his new realm. Temporary, true, but it fit his current disposition. To mortal eyes, it would appear to be a cheap 21st century motel room, some super-chain hotel, barely 2 star. It was all he could afford to have. The continuum was hard to manifest here. Not welcome, not wanted by the inhabitants. He had to win, if he was to survive. He looked at the board, the once black pawn signifying the Tollan turned white, next to the Rook signifying Prometheus, and the white pawns representing the Assault Transports. Almost back to safety, to the Bishop representing the Babylon Anchorage.

Dozens of Ha'tak pawns had converged on the former location of the Tollan, Anubis working on outdated information. Almost time. Midgame was upon them. The winnowing had to begin. So far, so good. Now, to make sure Anubis wasn't in position until his counterstrike was ready. Perhaps baiting him into attacking the Alpha site again...

//Anubis's Throne Room//

The dark gloom of Anubis's throne room at night was broken by a small burst of light, in a rarely-entered side chamber. The darkly cloaked semi-ascended madman frowned, glowering over Q's movements, as the rook representing the Alpha site became a little clearer to understand. What... he could see a colony forming on the surface, new construction going up. The image was still wavery, but he couldn't take a chance. It had to be destroyed.

A slow set of commands later, and a full squadron of Ha'taks was sent. If two wouldn't cut it, perhaps 10 would. Production had increased to industrialized levels for the craft, and he had created a new Kull warrior plant to produce enough of the creatures to man his quickly growing armada. He wasn't able to out-tech Q's forces for the moment, but he could swarm them to death. 200 Ha'taks to crush the Prometheus. He would watch Earth burn until the it was a glass marble in orbit of it's pitiful sun, then he would set a black-hole connected Stargate in the star's heart, and supernova it, to remove the last traces of their ever existing.

Yes, not quite everything according to plan, but the fool had no idea of his true plan. The Ori far-off in their own galaxy had the right idea, but he intended to run with it. Plans had been set in motion, ones that even he could not undo. He would have the Dakara Device, and he would wipe life from the galaxy, making it into his own personal image!

Hold on a moment. Perhaps he was getting somewhat ahead of himself. Obviously, Q had a master plan of his own. So... perhaps he had some questioning to do in the ascended planes. Something bigger was going on than the other ascended would talk about normally with him. They spoke in hushed tones when Q entered the planes. Whispers in the dark, that were kept from him. Many spots in the galaxy were now hidden, ever since he had arrived. Locations that he had simply not looked at due to time constraints now couldn't be looked at at all. The mysterious destruction of his fleet at the new Taur'i base. Q was teasing him, leading him by the nose... like a lamb to the slaughter, as the Taur'i would say.

He only needed a bit of time, and more information. And a Taur'i to strip the mind out of.

//SGC Sensor Monitoring Station, Pluto//

The techs had been up for three days straight, watching Prometheus disappear off all the trackers, then searching relentlessly using the remote arrays for her wake anywhere in the galaxy. To say they were exhausted would be an overly simplistic and catastrophically understated statement. About to drop dead, having drank every last bit of caffinated drink and having eaten every last sugary crumb in an attempt to stave off the inevitable passing out would be closer. They layed out across the control room, flopped onto the instruments, one blinkingly trying to stay awake until the SGC called, to ask for a replacement crew. The hastily constructed prefab complex was nearly shut down, dark, save for the lights in the control room, all 10 techs inside.

The bleep-BLEEP of an approaching contact was almost too little to wake him up, as he groggily sat up in his chair, adjusting his headphones as he stirred, shifting in his uncomfortable seat. The bleep-BLEEP rang out again, as he sat straight up, mumbling in sleepy confusion, before glancing around the room. The blinking of the hyperwake detection system alarm took a moment for him to recognize, before he pushed off of his seat, bouncing slowly in Pluto's low gravity, easing across the room in a graceful arc. Thankfully, the low gravity allowed him to easily touch down, or else he would have ended up in a tangled mess from his exhausted landing.

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he tapped the status icon on the array, watching as a local starchart popped up, adjusting itself, numbers flicking by on the side indicating the centered upon coordinates. A set of icons appeared, in friendly green, IFF transponder codes listed beside them as the display zoomed in on the rapidly moving icons. His mind's first response was to think ~huh, thats funny, isn't that the ship we're supposed to...~ The second involved a string of swearing a minute long as loud as he could, as he fell over backwards trying to go for the system alert back to the SGC, flopping onto the deck with a quiet thud.

The other techs stirred, blinking and looking at him funny as he bounced to his feet, adrenaline now rushing in his system as he ran back, activating the comm array, calling back to Babylon station. Other icons popped up on the screen as the other craft Sheridan had sent out began to return, having managed to sneak in closer thanks to their smaller size, a gathering beginning. The Sol System began to snap to life, squadrons of F-302s scrambling around Earth, /A class variants rushing out of action stations on Babylon, and Earth to intercept the incoming contacts.

A storm quickly brewed in the SGC, personnel awoken from the slumber and dragged from odd corners of the base quickly rushing to stations as they were called to arms.

In his office, General Hammond looked up from his late-nigh paperwork, scowling. Hopefully, it was the ship he was expecting, judging from the alert pattern. Incoming friendly forces identified. Alert for possible pursuit/emergency situation onboard. Sheridan over his head and coming in hot. Wonderful. SG-1 was bad enough about that. He pressed the new hololink button installed into his desk, calling for the comm links issued to all of SG-1, and other key personnel.

The devices had been modified to look somewhat like a flip-phone walkie talkies, and were smart enough to not activate their more advanced features in public, they would at least capture the holo-image of the various individuals they were assigned to. The images of Carter and Daniel popped up immediately, shimmering slightly and glowing as their links adjusted for interference before settling out. Next came the medical departments on their central dedicated links, Dr Janet, the doctor aboard Babylon station, and the CMO of the Enterprise currently stationed at Ft. Avalon.

It took a minute before Jack and Teal'c popped up, the leader of SG-1 looking sleepy and restless as he rubbed his eyes. The sight of Teal'c looking over from his link, then sliding into Jack's image was somewhat disturbing, at least for a moment.

"What? Teal'c over and watching a marathon with me." Jack looked around, the glowy heads on his end freaking him out just a little in return.

The images of the system defensive post commanders came on as well, from the 2 F-302 bases on Earth, at Fort Avalon and out in Siberia, to the control posts for the defense grids of the 5 current mining outposts being established in-system, and that of the current grid barely started in America. And that of the newly elected Vice President, not yet in office, Kinsey.

"Mister Kinsey, may I ask what you're doing with a SGC-only device?" Hammond glared at the image of the long-time bane of the SGC, who had nearly gotten Earth annihilated several times by mismanagement and blind ignorance and unwillingness to support the once unlikely venture. His rise to Vice Presidency had given half of the SGC ulcers at the thought of having to put up with his antics on an even greater scale. The holos of all the contacted commanders and staff began to scowl as they watched his image. Little chance to impress the imperials, they had heard some of the tales, and had to be restrained from doing some rather foolish things before they could finish being told his 'exploits'.

"General Hammond, why shouldn't I? As the newly elected Vice Pres~" He began to speak, before the Russian commander began cursing in several dialects of his native tounge, cutting him off.

"Mister Kinsey, you are not Vice-President until January 23, 2005. Until such time, that device by your rational should remain in the hands of the currently sitting president." Hammond smiled for a moment, before ignoring the spluttering politician and turning to the Medical section of the floating display. "I need all medical personnel brought in immediately. The Prometheus is inbound, running heavy. We expec~"

"Who authorized the Prometheus to leave the sys~"

"No-one did, Mister Kinsey. Captain Sheridan borrowed it on his own for a rescue mission to Tollana." Hammond was near-growling by that point, growing weary of having to listen to the arrogant politician. "I assure you, his actions will be addressed and accounted for. If his mission bears fruit, you will be amongst the first to know. God night, Mr. Kinsey." Hammond brought up the control functions for his link, setting Kinsey's transciever to ignored status.

The outburst of applause from O'neil's image made Hammond almost reach for the bottle of antacid in his desk, before he restrained himself. No, not yet. "All personnel are to come back to their duty stations, medical personnel ready at their posts, depending on where Sheridan brings Prometheus to."

"What do you want to do with the ambassadors from Kellwona, Herbidia and the other Protected Planets treaty members over here at Babylon? The station commander is getting as anxious as they are as to why they were asked to co~"

"The WHO?" General Hammond began to seriously consider that bottle of antacid, and chugging it until he couldn't feel his stomach anymore...

//AT-1300 Assault Transport Galileo-Inbound Sol Sys//

Sheridan grimaced, still rubbing his head, and looking at the strange crystal in-hand. The one proof he hadn't just had a strange dream. The small, quiet sounds of the cockpit did nothing to disturb his contemplation, as the hyperwake of the Prometheus loomed outside, the distortions filling the darkened cockpit of the small transport with the eiree light. The two pilots of the small transport just looked between themselves, before looking back at their instruments.

The angles coldly rubbed against his hand as he thought through what had woke him... the strange, apparent encounter with the superbeing Q... somewhere, out there, some reality, all that his crew had grown addicted to was real. That maybe every depicted universe had an element of truth to it. Heady stuff, that could make someone think. One thing led to another, to another, to the thought that out there, beyond his current plane's edges of existence, there could be a million other hims, doing a million other things. How many of him out there were captains of a ship, how many were dead, had children, were monsters like Q seemed to imply he was...

No, fear was a little death, fear clouded his mind, he would not fear. He would do. Plans were in motion that he could not stop, a gathering had begun. He had to finish what he started, or else be smashed by the avalanche he had begun. He had to make order out of the chaos of this galaxy, or else a victory for Earth, would be victory for the fires of war, a call to the hounds of death to come out to play.

No time, no time like the present to start, as he held the crystal up, letting it refract the strange lights of hyperspace, the loud hum of the hybrid-created hyperdrive vibrating the deck. Strange thing, a brown in some light, purple in others, almost iridescent, a near-glow...

"We should be coming up on Babylon Station outer markers in 20 minutes, sir. You may want to have the passengers brace for deceleration." The warning of the pilot made him look away from the almost hypnotic shimmer.

"Right, sound the warning at one minute, will you?"

"Yes sir."

Sheridan ducked through the pressure door, stretching his legs as he walked over to the main passenger hold. The small groups of Tollan were talking with each other, some discussing the mathematics of hyperdrives, others, families, were together, comforting their children, reminding themselves of better days as they snuggled together. Waiting for the madness to end. Others, a group in the darker portions up near the forward hull, talked in whispered tones, a holo of a Ha'tak displayed as they grimly talked about how it could be potentially damaged and disabled. Work to be done, for the people still alive.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" At the turning of 30 heads towards him, amongst the improvised seats and small crates of saved heirlooms and work. "We'll be dropping out of hyperspeed in about 18-19 minutes, I'm asking everyone to settle into their crash seats and prepare for deceleration. We've been happy to help you, and we will be giving instructions as to how to link up with friends and family who arrived on other ships when we dock."

Hopeful looks turned to him, as he wondered how he had gotten to being a flight attendant. Impulsiveness had won out over careful thought, again. A bad habit he needed to break himself of, before he got into a situation. Like facing 200 Ha'taks or something.

A slow stroll through the aft-facing hatch slowly brought him around to the crew cabin, where the more unfortunate cases who were having breakdowns were being kept, a single crew member keeping watch with a injector of sedative in case any of them began having an episode. Narim still was laying on the back bunk, the shock of what all he had been through apparently sending him into an apathetic state. Sheridan watched from the hatch, before wordlessly passing onwards. The engine compartment and the aft cargo holds were as full as the forward spaces, and he repeated his warning again to them, watching as they buckled in, remembering the roughness of the first few transitions to hyperdrive.

A slow walk brought him back to cockpit, boots rather quietly clanging on the deck, as he made a new plan. Time to do what he had been putting off doing, start up a midiclorian count exam for everyone in the known galaxy, his own crew included. The force was a problem he did not need at that moment.

"Minute out, sir. Buckle in." The pilots were strapping themselves in as they spoke, the ripples of hyperspeed beginning to slow, streaking out into more star-bow like objects. A hasty buckling of his own straps took only a few seconds, leaving him watching in his panoramic view of hyperspace as ripples turned to streaks, turned to a dazzling tunnel of multicolored lights, then shrank into points of light, the bulk of Neptune rapidly coming up, Triton filling their view ports as the Prometheus and her escorts slowed, full braking thrusters flaring through space as they rounded the icy moon.

On it's other side, was a massively busy complex, hidden from Earth, and especially Hubble and it's European counterparts that had just been brought online, the home of the slowly regrowing and healing star destroyer that had started the whole damn mess. Babylon station.

The station now was festooned with makeshift antenna and docking complexes, space crowded around it as tasked out YT-1300s approached, orbiting the station as they waited for their turn to drop off their precious diplomatic cargoes, dodging massive bulk freighters that were little more than engines with cargo pods wrapped around them, waiting in a swirling dance for their chance to drop their cargo off at the massive refinery/industrial plant that had sprouted from the station, a massive circular framework marking the start of a more... planned out and organized station, a permanent solution that Sheridan had thought up, and tasked his engineers to.

He unbuckled, as Prometheus was granted priority clearance, gazing out on the massive frame that was quickly being assembled, the small Russian contengient already starting the equaling frame that was to orbit the site, gazing in a proud awe at what his crew was already putting together. The hub of the SGC's future system defenses, the cradle of galactic-wide civilization.

Flights of the new TIE Spitfires formed up, escorting Prometheus in and clearing the way, clearing through the intricate ballet of ships, which wouldn't be at all out of place in any system of his own galaxy, a bit of home that was about to become moreso, if everything continued on schedule. The first small components of the station were to be assembled next month, and start the habitable blocks of the massive new docking platform for Babylon, the expansion to accommodate the upswing in traffic to come.

"Transport 1701-7; this is Babylon control, relaying course to you, over."

"Rodger control, moving into docking lane. 1701-actual aboard, requesting priority clearance, over."

"Clearance granted, 1701-7. Updated course incoming. General Hammond wants 1701-actual at Avalon immediately, over."

Sheridan unbuckled, reaching up for a spare pickup, hanging on as the small craft gracefully dodged Prometheus's thrust-wash. "This is 1701-actual. Negative, stand by for a full ambassadorial meeting, critical negotiations to start as soon as possible. Clear a room for 100 ambassadors and a few aides. Stand by to transport myself, and one other aboard."

"Rodger 1701-actual." The grumbling on the other end of the mike was near-audible, as the controllers grumbled about the strange chain of command currently involved in their operations.

Sheridan grabbed his beacon, jogging around the refugees as they looked at holographic images of Babylon station. Didn't take more than a minute to get around to the aft quarter, where Narim was being kept. And a few minutes later, Narim was safely in Babylon's med-station, getting anti-depressants into his system, and slowly being revived by the expert medical personnel.

//Fort Avalon, flightline//

Kinsey growled at the blustery weather, bundled thickly in his jackets as he dodged hovercarts and Humvees, looking for General Hammond and his merry band of miscreants so that he could get the true word as to what was occurring out at Babylon station. Bad enough he had been locked out of the comm network by General Hammond, now he couldn't even get any word from his moles inside the SGC. So, next best thing to having a network, go find out about it yourself.

Sighting the rag-tag group of Teal'c, Jacob Stari, Col. O'neil, and General Hammond, all in flight suits and preparing to head out, he hung a right, marching towards them relentlessly. Stari was the first to spot him, and ran for the fighter he had been given permission to borrow, scrambling up the ladder and diving into the TIE Interceptor as quickly as possible, shutting the hatch. Hammond glared as he moved himself between the future vice-president and his subordinates, intending to defuse any upcoming argument.

"General Hammond, how hard is it to get a lift with permission from the currently sitting president? I've been repeatedly turned down by transport control, despite showing papers validating my request!" The irate ex-senator glared over the shoulders of the General, watching the two longtime thorns in his side slide out of sight as best they could.

"Mr. Kinsey, unless you want to spend the next two hours in a small cramped fighter with either Col. O'neil or Teal'c, I would suggest you wait for a transport to return. These are the only two fighters outbound to Babylon station anytime soon. Now then, I'm sure you're stubborn enough to bother trying, but consider that you'll be alone in a cramped space with one of two men you have relentlessly dogged for 7 years now. I wouldn't personally want to try it myself, but if you're crazy and determined enough, far be it for me to stop you." General Hammond smugly looked back at O'neil and Teal'c, glaring once at O'neil's sadistic smile, before looking back at the blustery future vice-president, watching him flounder for a response.

"What about that clone, what's-his-name... Stari!, who just jumped in that TIE Interceptor?" Kinsey looked over at the panoramic cockpit window, glaring at the pilot inside, who slid back so he could hide in the shadows within.

"Well, if you want to sit two men in a one-man fighter, be my guest."

"Switch him out with O'neil, or Teal'c!"

General Hammond all but groaned, before he reluctantly gestured for Stari to get out of his cockpit, the pilot wincing as he realized what was going on. "Stari, fly with... Mr. Kinsey here, take Teal'c 302/A. Teal'c, you're already trained on the TIE Interceptor, I would hope..."

"Indeed." The word rumbled out of the tall first prime. He had gladly taken the courses, eagerly soaking up the knowledge of the true mechanics of one of his favorite diversions.

The poor clone pilot quietly crawled down his ladder, trying to avert his eyes from Kinsey so that he hopefully wouldn't ask any questions. Luckily for the General and company, it only took a few minutes to get the irritating politician into a flight suit over his own, and ready to go, and the three craft were soon taxiing to the runway, or hovering in Teal'c case, as he put himself into the hoverlaunch corridor.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Kinsey leaned up behind Stari in the small, cramped cockpit, the retrofitted module barely big enough for the two of them as it was.

The growl from Stari was the only answer he got at that moment, as he sat annoyedly in the pilot's seat, watching all the instruments since he had to turn off the backseat controls. Nothing worse than a nosy, irritating politician when in a two-seat craft. With a small line of craft still waiting to take off, there was nothing for him to do but wait.

Kinsey narrowed his eyes, before sitting back into his seat, letting the restraints retract down onto him. A tough one to crack, this one. This was going to be a long, boring flight. He looked down, inspecting the controls, trying to understand the designers of the craft, the hybrid vehicle showing it's mixed Imperial/American engineering origins.

"Flight 297, you are cleared for launch. Proceed down your current runway. You are go for orbital launch."

Kinsey braced himself, as the mammoth roar of the fighter's engine's burst into full power, the slight press of 1 g shoving him back into his seat some, as the fighter hurtled itself down the runway, then straight up into space, his surprised scream lost in the roar of twin ion engines as General Hammond's fighter hurtled up behind him, followed by Teal'c at a more sedate pace.

On the ground, a lone figure watched the three fighters disappear up into the skies, a small glove-hidden camera recording the sight of the three fighters. He bundled himself against the cold more tightly, before walking down the flight line, looking for something more to gather photos of. MI6 was going to be very interested in the American's new project. He had seen a lot of things in his time, from Dr. No's island, to the plots of Goldfinger, but he had never seen anything like this... This was something her majesty was going to be very interested in. The time of the British Empire might not quite be over. Now where would they keep a technical manual for those fighters at?

//Babylon Station 1 hour later//

The hastily converted storeroom still bore signs of the roughly handled cargo that had been within, faint stains on the floor and a thick chemical smell in the air as the main new powers in the galaxy stood. Earth, represented by Mr. Woosley from the US; the Imperials, Captain Sheridan standing defiant at the center of the maelstrom; Nox; Tollana, represented by the shaky presence of Narim, who's ashen face was defiant to the storm of controversy; Herbidia, represented by an Ambassador Kel'ka, one of the last free independent states in the galaxy.

Sheridan had began the meeting with a simple, decisive statement. The galaxy was to mobilize if it wanted to be free, and he would loan out the technology to do it with. The ambassador from Nox had quickly gone white, having already inspected the weapons aboard the station and knowing what power they had. The younger, smaller protected worlds were either giddy with joy at the possibility of being able to fight off the Goa'uld, or outraged that their nearby rivals would be able to strike at them, or in a few other cases deranged anger that he would dare threaten their neutrality and safety from the Goa'uld.

Now, he stood, as insults were hurled, the various ambassadors, human and not in near fist-cuffs as they argued and fought over who would get what, and if they should be attempting to grab for the technology at all. Accusations of favoritism and worse came from various parties, as Sheridan finally decided he had enough.

"LISTEN!" The bellow of anger stopped the brewing fight, everyone looking towards the now livid captain, who stared out across the throng of ambassadors with a righteous anger ready to be unleashed. "This, here, now! is the time for action. There will never be this so-called 'ideal time' to slowly build up forces, to say this is our galaxy, our home! This is not a time of peace, of reason; but of tyrannic madness and insane war and destruction! I joined my own forces with the Taur'i in the hopes that one day, before I died, that I would see a galaxy stand in peaceful harmony, that we could all be mature enough to stand together in prosperity and safety. instead, I find this! A group of bickering civilizations, afraid to rise up together, competing against each other at a time we can ill afford it, when the specter of death can no longer be put back into his cave."

The representative of the other Tollan faction rescued stepped forward at that point, determined to stop the madness before it could spread, not yet realizing just how far Sheridan had spread his tendrils of persuasion. " Civilization? You call warmongering, wantonly providing lesser peoples-" Much of the crowd gathered and glowered at his pronunciation, solidifying against his condescending, somewhat hateful tone. "- the ability to scorch all life off a planet, sparking off acts of aggression that will~"

Sheridan jumped over the front table, to confront him directly and cut him off with his own furious, rapidfire tirade. "Civilization is not about the removal of the beast, Ambassador." He made the word sound like it had to be spat from his mouth as he marched across the wide space, collar mike picking up the words with little effort. " Civilization is knowing where, when and why you should release it, of containing our dark sides, channeling it and controlling it instead of letting it control you. It is protecting others, no matter the cost to yourself, to make the universe a better place with every step, even if the road is dubious at times. To use your own horrors to fight off the greedy dark, and to fan the light into a brilliant flare for at least one day more. Who is the more successful civilization right now, Earth, or the Tollan? I'll give you a hint, your people are renting our space, not the other way around."

"I must agree with Captain Sheridan." The sight of Narim slowly and shakily standing up quieted the area once again, the civilizations that knew of the Tollan quietly backing down. "The time to mobilize is now. The tyranny and oppression of the Goa'uld has run long enough, inflicted enough pain and suffering as is. We have all hid, cowardly, in the far reaches, behind allies such as Earth, and the Asgard for far too long, avoided standing for ourselves at all costs. WHY? This is OUR home, our worlds, and I for one will support any and all effort by the Tollan remnant to end this terror. I propose immediate deliberation on the splitting of efforts towards resource gathering, construction, and the raising of full defensive fleets for all home systems until such time as a sufficient force can be gathered to assault Goa'uld positions, and a time line set towards ending the Protected Planets treaty in favor of a takeover of Goa'uld positions."

The room exploded into motion, Woosley standing up to protest to Captain Sheridan over the passing out of Earth's technology, the Peace at Any Cost faction stepping forward to block the motion, even as even more flocked towards Sheridan, trying to climb over and around those that were trying to drown them out.

"I SECOND the motion!" Sheridan again cut through the noise, slowly stepping over to Narim's section of the table, many of the ambassadors coming to their rallying call.

"Narim, you cannot possibly be serious about this. Be reasonable, sane, Tollana has always stood for peace and~" The other Tollan ambassador found himself cut off as Narim slowly wobbled around the table, furiously staring him down.

"And it BURNED! No more, not again, NEVER AGAIN!"

Sheridan put his hand on Narim's shoulder, holding him back from doing something crazy and foolish. "Narim, calm yourself. Not this time, not this place. Will any worlds stand against this motion?" A few whispered amongst themselves, but held their tounges. They couldn't force it down with the amount of support the motion had. "Then it is settled then, we begin negotiations on the distribution of Imperial technology, and the formation of a military alliance." That went better than he thought it would have.

//Flight Bay 12//

The roar of three TIEs coming in for a landing rippled through the bay, as the three transporting fighters slowly slid in, hovering around as they slowly found their assigned landing zones, Teal'c latching his Interceptor into it's own rack, the whining roars slowly dying down as the main doors slid shut over the atmospheric forcefield. It had been 5 hours since Prometheus had returned, and still no sign of approaching Ha'taks, time to stand down to a somewhat calmer state. Many of the fighters scrambled on emergency control flights slowly pulling back into their berths, weary pilots crawling from their cramped fighters. A thankfully false alarm.

General Hammond surveyed the slow bustle of the bays as the mechanics finished shutting down various fighters, cleaning them up already even as the last few rolled into their berths. A glance over showed him Kinsey slowly wobbling out of his own seat, having been harried the whole way out by Staris rather... daunting silent acrobatics, the infiltration piloting crosstrained Stormtrooper having given him the craziest ride of his life. Nothing personal, at least that was his story. Just mandatory practice of his evasive maneuvering skills to keep him in practice.

Certainly had him reeling, though. It was all O'neil could do to keep the insane smile off his face at the sight of Kinsey wobbling on dizzied legs, clutching the wing of the 302 he had rode in on to keep himself up. He would have to get the surveillance camera footage after this, this was comedic gold.

"I trust you understand why I had asked if you could fly on another flight now, Mr Kinsey? We did forewarn you." Hammond watched as Kinsey slowly straightened, wobbling across the hanger for the door, ignoring all of them as he tried to save his dignity.

"Rather ungrateful, if you ask me. I mean, alright so I did ignore him the whole flight, but it's not my fault he was trying to annoy me. Seriously, how was I to know he got spacesick?" Stari shrugged, pulling off his helmet wearily as Teal'c slid down an access ladder nearby.

"It was hilarious, though. General, I hope you let us copy over the tapes so that we can sell them on the SGC black market, not that there is such a thing." O'neil stretched his back, feeling his bones slowly creaking as they popped back into alignment. Old age and the SGC way of life had done one heck of a number on his back.

"Indeed, the sight should provide a distraction for the various factions within the mountain. Enough of one to hopefully keep your office from being disturbed." Teal'c rumbled, the stotic jaffa at least looking calm and collected.

"We'll talk about it later, let's make sure that Kinsey doesn't cause an incident." General Hammond started marching, technicians already swarming over their landed fighters.

//Babylon, amidships//

Woosley, the bureaucrat selected from the US government to represent Earth, was busy chasing down Captain Sheridan, the sight of a suit tearing through the halls in fast pursuit of the Imperial officer surprising many as he hunted his current bane of existence down. Briefcase in one hand, a leaf of documents trying to support his case against the exchange in the other, he was close to catching the Captain, having tracked him down to the R&D section of the station, where the refit plans for the Enterprise were well underway, and where Earth was busy combining it's knowledge of local physics with the refined sciences and technology of Imperial engineering to make strange and dangerous new weaponry and vehicles.

He didn't exactly expect to literally run right into the back of Sheridan, though, nearly loosing his papers as he caught himself. A group of Tollan engineers, part of the newly militant group, were busy looking over one of the proposed corvette designs, with a small group of the project designers looking on, trying to make sense of the changes already being proposed. He straightened himself up, even as Sheridan prepared to do battle with the many-headed hydra of bureaucracy.

"I imagine I already know why you hunted me down, Mr. Woosley. You're here about my promise of technology to the various worlds in our newly formed alliance, right?" Sheridan kept himself collected, as he ran through the various other problems that might be about to ensue from the little near-disaster of the meeting earlier.

"Correct, captain. you have no legal authority to trade out the technology gathered by the US government to various worlds around the galaxy. We cannot abide by your callous use of our~" Woosley straightened up his tie as he spoke, drawing himself up even as Sheridan waved him down.

"I have not traded one bit of the technology or advances you have come up with. I traded what I came here with, that which is already on the Enterprise, and anything the Tollan can come up with off of it. Fair enough, and I avoid stepping on the toes of my allies. Does that sound fair to you?" Sheridan gently tapped his shoes, enjoying the squirming going on for Woosley's part.

"Fair enough, I suppose. However, this whole course of action was neither endorsed nor created by the US government, and I imagine they will not at all be pleased." The future ambassador of Earth in the making put his documents away, snapping his narrowly opened briefcase back with a rather viscous-sounding snap of latches, annoyed that he had been foiled. No matter, it was a fairly profitable setup, even if his superiors had not come up with it.

As if reading his mind, Sheridan smiled, shrugging slightly. "I don't see why they would be annoyed, other than the whole 'everyone has imperial technology' part. I brought the Tollan back, they're adding their knowledge to the creative madness of your engineers and the sheer raw power of my ship's systems, we will soon be having swarms of corvettes criss-crossing the galaxy, beginning the slow ascent into a galactic republic. I say everyone except for the Goa'uld came out a little bit ahead today." He turned around, popping one of the draft proposal datachips out of the projector into hand, gently chucking it to Woosley, who fumblingly caught it. "Show that as well, to them. It's the current basic draft for essential systems, but it's being designed to be a 'public face', for your program, something to hide in plain sight, as well as being completely functional."

"Well, I~"

"It's fine, right?" Sheridan turned around to the engineers, who all nodded, having spares anyway just so that they could pass around draft spares. "Right, then. Go ahead and give it to whoever you need to, then, in order to assure the American government that we are completely and totally sane, and planning this well ahead of where they are thinking at. They just want to survive. I'm trying to do that and set up the foundation for a future government. I'm sure they'll understand that since we have a biiit more experience in that, that we'll handle that side of things without them." A smug smile graced his face, though he imagined it wouldn't be that simple.

"I'll pass along your assurances to them, but I don't think they will agree. Thank you, Captain, if nothing else, you have eased a few worries, though... your free reign may be limited after this little incident. I will see you at the next 'council meeting', or whenever my superiors have need of you again, then." Woosley nodded, before turning around to leave, curt, measured steps leading him away.

Sheridan grumbled, before turning back to the corvette plan, hoping that he could steer the design direction a little bit into what he needed. Now what was the worst that could happen? Kinsey showing up?

//Belowdecks//

"Where the hell am I?" A certainly valid question from the longtime annoyance, as he looked around the four-way corridor, trying to figure out how he had gotten there, and which way the overall command section was. Gray bulkheads stretched out as far as his eyes could see in all directions, crisp-uniformed crew members swarming around him, mixed with a few non-uniformed individuals and stormtroopers. Not a one payed attention to him, other than to part the traffic flow around him as he looked around in confusion.

Lost on a station full of Imperials... he began to realize that he REALLY didn't think this one through. Where could a Star Destroyer captain hide, anyway? The future vice-president frowned as he inspected the crowd. A body caught his eyes, he recognized the clothes the individual wore, as he began to push through the crowd as inconspicuously as he could, trying to catch up. The Tollan were dead, so where did this man come from? Kinsey straightened up his grey flight suit, as he slid sideways between a large cargo pallet being moved and the wall, tapping the Tollan lookalike on the shoulder.

A heartbeat passed, the senator sliding across the paneled bulkhead in an attempt to keep up The individual turned around, to growl in remembered irritation when he identified Kinsey. He began to turn back around to keep moving before stopping, turning around and flattening up against the wall of the thoroughfare to find out what the irritating man wanted. "Can I help you, Senator? I would have thought it would take you a little longer to discover we had been rescued."

"I didn't even know, how are you people even still alive?" Kinsey looked at the weary face, still rather thin from a restricted diet that had gone on for two years.

"Ask Captain Sheridan. I have to thank him, and your people overall. He came to our rescue, when no-one else in the galaxy would." The Tollan turned and slipped back into the crowd, leaving Kinsey to himself.

Sheridan, a rescuer of the oppressed, and foiler of evil... damn, he was turning out to follow the American way a little too well... and he was proving to be a useful asset, even if completely unpredictable. Why did he bother rescuing the Tollan?

"Mr. Kinsey, I didn't expect to find you on Babylon. I take it you're here over the 'incident' earlier?" Sheridan stepped out the crowd, almost like a stealth fighter dropping out of the skies. No warning, only a surprise assault.

"Captain Sheridan, I've been looking all over for you. I take it my reputation proceeds me?" Kinsey straightened himself up, steeling himself to bring Sheridan under his thumb.

"Oh, we've heard a tale, or two hundred. I had to put out a station-wide announcement for the personnel to leave you alone when I found out you had commandeered your way onto a flight out. My people... don't like politicians much. A rather sore point for them, after some of the things over the years. I'm actually surprised it took you this long to confront me. Surely such a man would have visited sooner, to at the least make an annoyance of himself, if nothing else." Sheridan gestured for Kinsey to follow him, as he began to barb his words. Nothing like brutal honesty to make someone squirm. Emphasis on brutal.

"I would hardly call myself an annoyance. Just a concerned party looking on with worry as to how my government conducts itself." Kinsey stepped up, slipping into the gap Sheridan was creating in the crowd.

"And I would hardly call negligently stopping the only line of defense for a world, repeated interference with a proven and working command for political reasons, blackmail, ignoring confirmed warnings, and generally being an ass the work of a concerned party, Mr. Kinsey." Sheridan managed to keep from growling, a polite voice delivering a steel message. The crowd didn't spare a glance, as Sheridan led Kinsey away, heading down a corridor that would lead them further away from General Hammond and his band.

"Oh, then what would you call me?"

"A party to throw out an airlock. Stripped, first, of course, we can't waste flight suits." Sheridan chuckled darkly weaving through the crowd as he listened to Kinsey get angry. "Honestly, I could no more trust you than I could one of my ~former~ Emperor's force enforcers. You've been playing the system to your own benefit, and you are a potential threat to my men. You should be able to understand why I have kept my plan of action to myself. Interference isn't something I need right now." Sheridan wasn't watching Kinsey, but if he did, he'd see the slow smolder flickering across the corrupt politician.

"If I'm such a threat, then why didn't you let your crew space me, then? Afraid of what we might do in return?" Kinsey knew he was being insulted, and wouldn't stand for it. No uppity captain was going to get the best of him, in any arena. "Yes, I've acted in my best interests, and I would do so again, if I had to. What gives you the right to be judge and jury? What gives you the right to act without the permission of the US government?"

"Because until the Enterprise and her crew become a part of the United States military, and signs oaths of loyalty to your government, we remain the ranking authority of the Galactic Empire, and a body unto our own. You're standing on my territory, Mr. Kinsey, and here I am free to do as I please. If I was amoral and self-interested as yourself, I could have easily taken Prometheus for my own some time ago, and taken control of Earth with orbital supremacy. Not much you could have done to me even with your 'Goa'uld buster' IBCMs. Primitive weapons, and not much of a match for a properly equipped corvette, even." Sheridan kept himself from having to spit at mentioning Kinsey's name, unenjoyedly having to spill several of his cards. "Frankly, I don't want it. What I do, is for the benefit of my people, and if Earth and the galaxy receives some of the joy, so be it."

"Hardly a better position than my own, Captain. So, you're doing everything for the benefit of your people? Why rescue the Tollan?" Kinsey followed Sheridan, as he got onto a turbolift, interested to find out what Sheridan's weak points were. The small, stark lift left them nothing to focus on but each other, the grey walls offering no sights to focus themselves on, forcing them to stare each other down.

"Two reasons. One, while your people are getting good at your technology, the Tollan are undisputed masters of the local technology, and also brilliant. And, they're utterly respected amongst the local races for having provided many of them with assistance at various points before getting cast down. Perfect backers, for convincing everyone to work together. If the Taur'i could rescue the Tollan, and secure a partnership with them, think of what they could do with you." Sheridan was slowly tapping his arms, crossing them in a half-feeling of warding off. He was starting to feel slimy just talking to the man. He had little doubt, now, why SG-1 was so unenamored of him, and why they had very subtly suggested an 'accident' for him.

"But, they have worked for Anubis in the past for their own safety. What is to say they won't betray you for their own safety again?" Kinsey had read the report, and nearly destroyed his office in rage that the best potential supply of technology had been destroyed. He had been distraught that the Tollan had been allowed to escape by SG-1 before, and at the time, he had begun to despair that the end was coming for Earth. How wrong he had been. How... foolish he had been...

"Nothing like showing anyone a fully operational superlaser to convince them that they're working for the newest big bad wolf on the block. I know what you think of me, Mr. Kinsey, of what you think of my crew. I will say this, what is shown in the movies, and the local sector lives are not the same thing. Much as many of the soldiers in Japan and Germany were just trying to provide for their families, or somewhat decent men. The fighting men of the Empire, and the citizens of what used to be Tollana are the same way. What's the phrase? Men fucking up in a fucked up world. The actions of a minority are not the intentions of the majority." Sheridan grabbed ahold of the handrail around the car as it shifted direction, throwing Kinsey off balance a little since he hadn't been expecting it.

"So, just the harmless remnant? We'll see. Still... " Kinsey turned away, not wanting to look Sheridan in the eyes as he said it, something he hadn't even done for SG-1. Then again, they had never brought in the Tollan remnant and formed a massive defensive alliance. "Impressive work. This is the kind of thing I was expecting out of the SGC. I should probably leave, and get back to the President."

Sheridan stood silently for a few moments, fingers twitching behind his back. "Well thank you, Mr. Kinsey. I'll set the lift to head back to the hanger, and I'll send General Hammond and his group back as soon as possible for you to head back. Your attention is rather promising, but please try to keep a distance until you prove yourself to be... an honest politician, please. My men would appreciate it, and so would the SGC..."

"Certainly." Kinsey reached out, holding a hand out to Sheridan, who grudgingly took it to shake. A start. Not necessarily a good one, but one none the less. And perhaps, a new way.