For the first time in recent memory, the sound of two beings laughing filled the astral dinner. The brothers Plato and Prometheus simply could not help themselves, the look on the faces of the Colonials who had found their way home had been priceless. For millennia they had thought themselves the center of the universe, those chosen by divinity to be the life of the galaxy. And with one line that delusion, so carefully crafted, came crashing down. It was too hard to resist holding their laughter in, only made all the better by the death glares Athena had been sending them the whole time from her spot across the dinner.

Things where only getting started, though, as the Colonial expedition was only scratching the surface of the database which had been left behind, one which had long been expunged of anything that didn't relate to the experiment their ancestors had been a part of, cultural works, or some scientific data that was so backwards even their primitive science had caught up to it. The 'gift' they had received couldn't have been at a better time, as the Terrans where about to find what the brothers had planted for them.

The Others were quite annoyed at the sound, but unlike the pantheon they elected to try to ignore it instead of giving any visible reaction. These where turbulent times for them after all, but it couldn't last much longer. By the end of the century things would calm down, they simply had to endure it all.

Director's Office

The Peak

Jack was not enjoying 'time off' one bit. He didn't really have anywhere to go, everyone he usually spent shore leave with was either knee deep in books in Atlantis, hunting down Wraith remnants in the Pegasus galaxy, hunting down Wraith resurgents in their own galaxy, or doing whatever the hell Teal'c was doing. He couldn't even go to his fishing hole, someone obnoxious Canadian mercenary had poisoned the thing, and for the next few months it wasn't safe to get within a hundred meters without a gas mask.

So here he was, playing office basketball with crumpled up pieces of paper as he waited for something that wasn't deemed outside the area which someone in his state of mind could work with, most of his usual work being relegated to his subordinates for the time being. He didn't understand it though; it wasn't as if the use of the sarcophagus was affecting his mind that much. It wasn't as though he was seriously considering putting the plan to destroy the Cyrannus system with the tainted ZPM into effect; it was just a hypothetical thought experiment.

His latest shot, as well as his thoughts that where one fry short of a happy meal, was interrupted by a call over his office's government network channel. With the push of a button he was greeted by the face of Richard Woolsey.

"Hey, Rich, what has you up, it's what, the middle of the night down there?" Jack asked casually.

"Actually it's the middle of the day; Atlantis is in the Pacific right now about five hundred miles south-east of Hawaii." The head administrator of Atlantis replied. "This isn't a personal call either."

"I wasn't aware you were in the know about that."

"Word about that sort of thing travels quickly, I'd be surprised if there was someone working on either the military or civilian side of all the organizations affiliated with us who didn't know about your suddenly more youthful appearance."

"Uh hum, I see. Guess I couldn't really hide that anyway." Jack stated, leaning back in his seat. "So what's the reason you called anyway? There isn't exactly much I'm allowed to handle for the next week."

"It's about something doctor Jackson found a few hours ago. It seems the latest database McKay cracked open had some reference to one of the books he's always got around his workspace. He did some digging into it and found this." With that, Woolsey held up a piece of paper for Jack to see. The paper had six symbols on it, six symbols in a line, clearly marking a gate address. None of which were Earth's point of origin.

"Alright, I know I'm no expert when it comes to the historical stuff in Atlantis computers, but that looks like six gate addresses. Which means that if you dialed that up…" Jack's voice trailed off.

"You'd probably end up in another galaxy. Yes, that's the same conclusion Jackson came to before he brought this to my attention." Woolsey stated. "We suspect that it may be another city-ship like Atlantis."

"You have my undivided attention." Jack said, straightening himself up. "Where is it, and what do we know about it?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. The only thing we know for sure is that it's in the Triangulum galaxy."

"The Triangulum galaxy, eh? That's our largest neighbour after Andromeda. Could be a lot of Ancient toys lying around."

"Yes, but the risks involved in going would be ones we'd have to weigh carefully. The last time we went headfirst into a new galaxy looking for a city-ship we ended up awakening the Wraith."

"You make a valid point, but there's no problem we can't solve with some naquadah enhanced nuclear missiles."

"I'm going to assume that's the therapy working and not what you actually think."

"Hey, that line of thinking wasn't called irrational when it was towards the replicators."

"That's because the replicators where machines which would have destroyed all life if we didn't destroy them first." Woolsey sighed. "Anyway I'd like to have approval for an expedition. If there is a city-ship out there that's been left to rust it would do us good to have a second one down here. Atlantis has already proven itself as a mobile base and weapons platform, having two would make fighting the Wraith easier without the problem of having Atlantis away from Earth."

"Sure, just send up the paperwork and I'll sign off on it. You can never have too many city-ships." With that, Jack closed the line.

"Well, that was an unexpected development." A voice behind Jack stated. Jack's response was to grab the Zat under his desk, turn around and shoot the man. Or at least he tried, as the shots dissipated before reaching him. "Jack, I'm hurt, after all we've been through your first instinct is to try and kill me."

"You mean after all you've been through." Jack barked, emphasising the 'you' part. "The only interaction I've had with you is you interfering with my missions and killing my men."

"You consider those men yours?" The man asked, moving to take the seat opposite to Jack. "You know as well as I do they aren't 'your' men, they are traitors, an infection to this organization who would gladly slit your throat if given the chance. In fact, one did in about a year from now during the uprising. Only reason you and I ever met was because the frog faced doctor and the clones down in Lazarus saved your ass before the guy finished the job and blew your brains out."

The man took out a cigarette and lit it up. Jack would have complained, but he'd be a hypocrite for doing so as he'd returned to the bad habit himself due to the stressed of his work. What would happen, cancer? There were a dozen cures for that.

"To be honest Jack, I'm not happy this is what I've been doing myself, I'd much rather be fighting on the front lines kicking alien, monster and enemy super's ass instead of killing Hydra and making enough of your agents go MIA to not make the rest become suspicious." He places a stapled stack of papers on Jack's desk. "Speaking of which, here are another fifty agents who I need placed on a mission to attack one fake outposts. Thirty six are Hydra; the other fourteen will be given the standard briefing about how for the next year they'll need to be working in secret with my organization."

"You know, to most of my people your people are nothing but a bunch of terrorists." Jack stated, looking through the files to see if any of those marked as Hydra where familiar faces. Some were, but only the face themselves, Jack didn't know anything about them personally.

"Maybe, but the briefing package we have with a recording of you explaining the situation has managed to make almost all S.W.O.R.D. agents we've already brought into the fold join me." The man replied.

"Why don't you just tell me and Fury who all the infiltrators are? Would make things fast and simple." Jack asked. The man took a deep breath, inhaling a fair deal of smoke. As he spoke again, his voice slowly got louder.

"Jack, things being fast and simple doesn't mean they would be good. I've been here for six months, and in that time I've built a balance that is very fragile. That balance is the reason why the invasions we've had this year only gave us a body count in six digits instead of ten digits. In the hellhole of a world I came from, two of the three billion people down there where dead, three quarters of the fleet was destroyed in the surprise attack by the Colonials, Liberty station was never captured, this station was space dust, the Wraith where consuming the galaxy unopposed because we didn't have the means to continue the fight with all the shit going down on Earth at the time. I've made a balance which changed all that in the past six months, and the last thing I need if you or Fury fucking it up because you want to purge the traitors." He stopped to catch his breath. When he continued, he was much quieter than before. "The world you know and the world I know are different Jack. Today to you is the day Earth enters the one hundred and fifth day since the attempted Colonial invasion four months back, to me this was the day Earth's population officially went under a billion. It was also the day that you ordered doctor McKay to build a device which would intentionally make a star go supernova, and three days from now is when the device would be used to kill the twenty nine billion people of the Cyrannus system, taking with them a fleet of Wraith which where hoped to be all those in the galaxy at the time."

"Where they?" Jack asked. The man chuckled.

"God said we would not be that lucky. No, most in the galaxy, but not all of them. By the time they had rebuilt their forces and begun another rampage, we hadn't recovered enough to do anything other than defend Earth, the great Jaffa civil war was well underway, and the Lucian Alliance had collapsed completely." He stopped to chuckle again. "You know what's funny? The only thing which prevented them from steamrolling all the primitive humans and Jaffa of the galaxy? It wasn't us; it was a resurgent Goa'uld Empire. Can you believe that?"

"Nope, not for a second." Jack stated without hesitation.

"Yeah, well, believe what you want, that's the world I left behind. Before the final attack that finished Earth off once and for all, anyway. But that's not for another eight years." The man sat up from his seat, fiddling with a hand held device. "Anyway I'm not going to tell you who the infiltrators are Jack, not any time soon. You'd better get used to the fact that I'm doing things my way."

"Yeah, yeah. You told me that… wait a second, if the earth shattering event which finally kills us all was eight years from now, how are you and your two companions fifteen years older than your temporal counterparts?"

"I never said we came to the past right away. It's hard to get something that can send you back set up when the whole world is literally a handful of people." With that, the man disappeared in a beam of light. Jack, for his part, wondered why he bothered with the stubborn bastard. He had only met him in person twice, and his condescending attitude was rubbing him the wrong way. He leaned back in his seat again, wondering how bad things could have been for that man to have been sent back in time with two others. He had done a fair service after all; it was him who informed them of the Colonials in the first place. But there was something about him, something in his eyes that the younger him, the kid leading young supers into battle, was missing. A part of that man's soul was missing, but weather it was from years of darkness or the death around him, he did not know.

He sighed, looking at a picture of him with Hammond. "What would you do George?"

As always he was met with silence.

Colonial Intelligence Planetary Headquarters

Picon

"Is he talking?" The intelligence agent asked. He was not amused with how the prick was acting, his last round of watching from the other side of the two sided mirror showing the kid had no interest in doing anything other than brooding with his arms crossed.

"Nope, same as always. I'd almost think he was an Earther by the way he's acting, but he hasn't spat in anyone's face or tried to get into a fight, so he's got that going for him." The other agent informed him.

"Well hell I can understand it from the Earthers, poor saps think we'll torcher and kill them anyway because of that bitch Cain." The first stated, setting down his coffee. "I think I have an idea."

A few minutes later the agent walked into the interrogation room, dismissing the man inside and taking a seat across from the kid before him.

"Hi Max, can I call you Max? Or do you rather Maximillian?" The fourteen year old said nothing, turning his head away in a refusal of acknowledgement to the man. The agent sighed. "Alright Max, I'm going to be frank; unless you help you're in big trouble. You burned down a school, and though no one died a fair few people were hurt. Now there are two ways this will go down, one of which is guaranteed if you don't cooperate. That is that you will be spending the rest of your days in a small cell, one specially made to deal with your 'unique' situation. And on the off chance you do get let out from that small, black room, not unlike this one but without the good lighting, after years upon years of it, you will forever have the mark of a dangerous criminal on you, meaning you'll probably never get out of the slums that will be the only place that will take you in. Do you want that?"

Max turned his head to look at the agent. He didn't say anything, but his eyes where enough to tell the agent the terror he felt at the idea.

"Of course, there is an alternative, one which will not only see you not go into that small cell, but will actually have you living quite comfortably." With that, the agent gave a hand signal to the person watching from behind the door. Opening, the newcomer entered and stood behind the agent. "Max, this is Peter Sietro. You probably don't know who he is, but he is quite the man with his hands. He built an armored suit in his garage, than went on a bit of a rampage with it. He was in a similar situation as you, and he's paying his debt to society by helping us to build new and interesting toys. In fact, between when we took you down and now he started one which would work specifically for you. Peter?"

"I call it the 3X85, it's a quick variation of the base 3X70 I've been designing." Peter placed two pieces of paper on the table, one a schematic while the other was more a basic sketch, both showing a human shaped machine. "This machine is what I call power armor, acting as a second skin over your own that should be able to absorb a fair amount of bullets before you drop. The 70 is the basic model that's still being designed, but the 85 is one that is specifically for you." He stopped to point at Max, tapping on the basic sketch with his fingers. "This one will be modified based on your 'gift'. It would allow you to move faster than you naturally could, jump higher, lift more, and on top of it all it should help you control your 'gift' while doing so."

"So that's your other option, join us, become a paid member of Colonial Intelligence like Peter here, and we won't just let you keep burning things, we will tell you which things need burning." The agent said, taking out a contract and pen for Max to sign.

Max, for his part, looked over the images, the contract, then to the two before him. He then looked at his hands, which for a moment seemed to become redder. After a second, one of his fingers ignited in a small fire, but he quickly closed his palm and put it out. Taking the pen, he quickly signed the contract.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"You know, I think that Titan appearing on Caprica did something." The younger intelligence agent stated while standing by a watercooler.

"What are you talking about?" The older one asked.

"Well think about it. That Titan or whatever it was shows up, makes a fool of us, then what happens? The girl he saved starts having some mystical abilities that has all of high command spooked, some kid not even out of high school builds a walking suit of armor, and now we've got a pyromancer working for us as a trainee field agent. I'm sorry, but all these weird things happening in such a short period of time cannot be a coincidence."

The older agent didn't say anything; simply drinking his water as he contemplated the benefits of retiring a bit earlier then he had planned to.

"You sure that's an actual pattern you're seeing there, or just trying to connect the dots in the wrong order again?" Gina asked, taking a paper cup for herself. She made sure to try and grab the younger agent's attention while getting her drink. "You do have a bad tendency to see things when they're not there."

"Oh please, it's because of my work that you managed to find that serum footage." The footage the younger agent was referencing was one which he believed he had pointed Gina to during work. It was an old grainy cartoon inner spliced with black and white footage which seemed to describe the proses which could potentially use science to turn an ordinary man into an extraordinary one. The footage itself was hard to understand, the translation difficult due to the poor audio quality coupled with the prose not yet having been perfected. But what could been seen visually was more than enough. It had shown an image of a scrawny, unhealthy and skinny looking man before showing a man whose face was clearly the same, but instead of being small and almost without muscle, he was instead taller, and his body built like a man who had physical training as his full time job. The cartoon portion of the video seemed to show a prose which had some unknown liquid injected into an animated person, the exaggerated image going from bone-thin to incredibly buff with a combination of the injection and a jolt of electricity. The footage then returned to live action, showing a black and white clip of the man wearing what would have been a colorful outfit and throwing a metal disk around at people they could only assume where enemy combatants.

The uncovering of the video by Gina from their tapes that were still being sorted out had led to a theory that it was through some chemical cocktail mixed with electricity that a normal person was turned into what they had believed to be a Titan. It was a wrong assumption, but one which was logical to make in their position. The only problem was that to figure out what the chemical compound was, was to capture one of the Earth's people who had been injected with it, and unbeknownst to Colonial Intelligence that was only one person, but it was a moot point as any of the people they wanted to capture where on Earth, making their capture all but impossible.

"Maybe, but I'm the one who actually found it, and besides, we're all on the same team here." Gina stated before downing her drink. The younger agent walked off in a huff, needing to get a bit of fresh air.

"You know, if you want to get the attention of a man as dense as him, you need to be less subtle." The older agent told Gina, walking back to his desk while she looked at him in confusion.

P3X-888

Twenty meters above ocean surface

Hovering over the water in an Al'Kesh, the four crew of the transport had a simple mission. The Goa'uld Empire was, to the extent of their knowledge, gone, but the threat the parasitic race had was far from it. With the Tok'Ra being a dying race incapable of surviving in the long term due to their only queen having passed away, and the Jaffa having no need for symbionts now that tretonin had been developed, the clear and present danger the part of the Goa'uld species which had not achieved sapience represented could be dealt with without too much blowback. That didn't stop this from being a black ops mission.

"We are in position, Jon says informing the crew of our status." Jon Two stated, the clone having been put in command. With six of the Strike Force members having half a dozen clones of each of themselves made, there were too many to have them all dedicated to project Lazarus, so most where sent off into the galaxy to gather intelligence or do black ops missions which required more secrecy then normal while still being accomplishable by those with their physical limitations.

"The cargo is ready, Rei stated updating her status." Came the voice of Rei Three on the intercom. She and Jon Four had been getting the cargo ready.

"Understood, releasing cargo in five second, Jon replied." Jon Two stated, and on cue opened the cargo bay doors, dropping the canisters they had been transporting into the water below. Their mission was a simple one, though it would take time and patience. Their mission was to eliminate the non-sapient Goa'uld on the species homeworld, the creatures a threat to any human who would set foot on the world, as well as the Unas which called it home. The mission was to be carried out by dropping a cargo bay full of chemicals into the planet's ocean currents at a dozen different locations to rid the oceans of the creatures, the chemicals specifically designed to only attack them. This would clear the oceans of them within a week. Those in rivers and lakes, however, would require the use of large amounts of the chemical in aerosol form to be spread through the jet streams of the planet, and would take several months to feel the full effects. Many of the normal Goa'uld in these areas would possibly survive the proses, though that didn't matter as what was truly critical was the queens being killed, something which had been carefully calculated to be a certainty with the action.

It wasn't pretty work to take pride in, but it was one which Earth had deemed necessary to prevent the rise of a new empire. Oddly enough, when the mass death of the symbiotes and queens became known to the galaxy, the Tok'Ra where the ones who attempted to take credit for the action, something Earth would not contest despite most worlds likely believing they were actually the ones behind it.

Kobol Outpost

Kobol

"This can't be true, it just can't. How could everything in the scripts, the very foundation of our society, be so wrong?" The head archeologist stated as he rubbed his forehead with his hands.

"Who knows, maybe we were just lied to, or maybe we just misinterpret what the scrolls say." Lee hypothesised. "It's not like anyone really reads the dead tongue anyway. I know barely two words of it, and they're the motto of Tauron and Caprica."

"I don't really much care for the issue of how this plays into society to be honest; I've made a career out of the discovery of truth after all." The archeologist stated, looking over one of the control panels. "The problem is just how much I'm going to have to rewrite the book because of this. Literally everything about Colonial history before the exodus needs to be revised based on all this."

"And what about the political fallout?" The other civilian asked. "How do you think people are going to react when they not only find out about this, but that we attacked the planet which is the birthplace of our species? The only people who aren't going to flip out are the small group who accept the pantheon as their gods, believe in intelligent design, and have no problem with the idea of fighting with the homeworld in a war we started ourselves."

"So basically three people." Kara said with a laugh. She honestly couldn't force herself to care about the revelation after it had sunk in. Sure, it painted the entire history of the Colonies in a new light, and sure, it had some unfortunate implications about the war with Earth, and sure, it would cause massive change in Colonial society if it were to be revealed. But that was above her pay grade for others higher up to deal with, probably higher than the old man Adama as well, and she was in the middle of an alien base with the potential for there to be so much cool stuff.

"Lieutenant, you're being far too casual about this." The archeologist stated.

"Well of course I am, I'm just a soldier, the frak am I supposed to do about it?" She said, taking a seat on the Control Chair. "It's not like I can figure something out by just leaning back and…"

In that moment the Chair came to life, the lights in the room getting brighter and a holographic projection of the galaxy appearing on the ceiling.

"And turn something on." She finished, staring at the projection. "Or maybe I'll just turn everything on without trying. Hey Lee, you know those crappy old kids shows where someone would lean against a wall and accidently push a button? I know how they feel now."

"Really Kara, that's the first thing that came to mind?" Lee asked, his palm meeting his face.

"First Recon, we're getting an energy signature from your location, is everything alright?" A voice over the radio asked.

"We're fine; Lieutenant Thrace just found the 'on' switch." Lee radioed back. When the outpost had first activated, members of the small expedition on the planet had not taken any real notice, but after radio contact had been re-established an effort to find them had begun. The location of the outpost wasn't too far from their base, just on the opposing side of the valley which had the ruins of the ancient city in fact, but the problem was that the only entrance to the surface was caved in, and though there was no real risk of suffocation for another day or so, a company of marines from the Galactica had been sent to dig them out, both to rescue them as well as gain access to the outpost.

During the hours it took for the marines to dig their way to the outpost, removing the soil which had filled the entrance, the group within discussed who to tell about the revelation. As it stood those in Galactica's crew as well as the former mining outpost knew about the Portal, but something on the scale of what they had found was so much larger than that. By the time the first marine entered the outpost, they had agreed to only tell Commodore Adama about it, and leave the rest to his discretion.

Author's Notes

Well, that was darker than I thought it would be. For those wondering who the mysterious man who spoke with Jack was, he's a character from the first sister story to this fic (the one I started over a year before this one) Avalon who, as was stated, is from two thousand thirty in a world where things went down a lot worst then in this story. Due to the butterfly effect, he's useless in terms of predicting something major happening, so don't expect him to be used as a deus ex for a surprise attack. I also used this as an excuse to connect this to the other sister story I've been making, Stargate Triangulum, which I honestly wrote just because I was having a bad case of writer's block.

Anyway that was this chapter, and now for something completely different to lighten the mood, which I have to give thanks to ferduran for giving me the idea for it. Don't take it too seriously.

Omake

Inside the cloaked Tel'tak he had been provided with, Wade Wilson quietly landed the ship on a Colonial facility on Caprica.

"Quietly landed? I'm not being paid to do this quietly." Wilson complained, crashing the ship through the facility's roof. "And stop using my real name, I'm wearing the consume and everything."

As WADE WILSON made his way through the halls of the facility, entry easy as he had, again, crashed thought he roof instead of landing on it, he used a katana with his right hand and a pistol in his left to stab or gun down any Colonial soldier he came across.

"Uh, that last guy didn't look like a soldier, more like a factory worker." He said, forgetting that the facility he was attacking was a factory, and that he had been told to try and keep civilian casualties to a minimum. "I'm told a lot of things, what's it to you?"

As he continued his rampage, killing everyone in sight as well as occasionally stopping to plant a small bomb, it slowly dawned on him that there was something off about his mission.

"There's no gold here." He yelled, entering a wide open tylium refining area within the facility. He had been informed when given the mission by Jack O'neill himself that the facility was a gold smelting plant critical to the Colonial economy, and that if he destroyed it he would be permitted as much of the facility's product as he could carry home to Earth. In his anger at the deception, he placed the remainder of his charges before returning to his ship.

"Anger? No, I would have gladly blown the place up either way. Hell, just blowing the place up makes this whole thing worth it."

As his Tel'tak returned to the skies and cloaked, he got a good view of the tylium refinery blowing to smithereens, the facility being the largest such one on Caprica, which would make the already bad state of the planet's economy much worst as a result.

Wade spent the trip in hyperspace home trying to figure out a way to get back at O'neill for the deception, and thought of a few ways to do so, but none would come to be as the moment he existed hyperspace he was much closer to Earth then he had intended. In fact, he was high in the atmosphere above the Atlantic. At the front of the ship's small bridge, a pre-recorded hologram of Jack started to play.

"Hey Deadpool, since I've messed with you I may as well call you the stupid title you like." Jack's hologram stated. "If you're hearing this, then you're a bigger moron then I thought you were, which is saying a lot. As you're hearing this every piece of hardware of value is being transported off the ship, and once that's done a 304 in orbit will target you, as your IFF has been marked as hostile. You will then fall about forty kilometers down before coming to a very sudden stop when you hit the surface of the Atlantis Ocean. You will then spend weeks in open water before you eventually make landfall. Some would say that's overkill, but it's you we're talking about, by this time next week you'll be back working for the highest bidder." The hologram of Jack stopped to check his watch. "You should be getting targeted right about now. In case you're wondering 'why', the answer is simple; next time you're in Colorado, don't poison my pond!"

Wade only laughed as the hologram disappeared. "You know what? I'm not even mad, that, Jack, that is hilarious."

The small ship was filled with laughter as it was ripped to shreds by two Asgard beam cannons. Wade regained consciousness about half way down to the waters below.

"Ha, jokes on you sucker, you only hit most of me!"