...And that's how it works?
~Yes, Domina. The potentias will be ready when you need them. I must point out the system was designed and built but never tested, nor even initialized. I cannot make any predictions as to its operational status.~
Understood.
~ I must also inform you my manufacturing capabilities have been brought online for another purpose. This is an automatic process programmed as a contingency and activated as soon as you accessed the chair for the first time.~
So what are you making?
~I do not know as of yet, Domina. I will inform you as soon as I do, rest assured.~
All right. Thank you.
~At your service, Domina.~
Becky slides out of the chair, goes to the one window in the whole room, facing westward beyond the crumbling towers. Visits to the city are easier now, since Sam's infrasonic barrier keeps the direwolves well away.
What they have on this planet isn't much, but it's worth protecting. Once Anubis assembles his fleet and conquers the other System Lords it's only a matter of time before he susses out New Earth's location and attacks. Progress is being made at Alpha Base on the Prometheus and other ships but not nearly fast enough.
Their best hope for protection right now is an untried Ancient system at least ten thousand years old. And something else in the works even the AI's unsure about, of equal vintage.
Still, better than nothing. No other option, really.
Time to get to work.
Jack fixes his steely gaze on the mountain of files in front of him and wonders if the Ancients had the power to set things on fire with their minds.
Wouldn't mind having that as a superpower. Not at all.
He'd kill for a distraction, even an unscheduled offworld activation or foothold situation. Anything more exciting than paperwork.
A new military configuration on a new settlement on a new planet, and there's still so many damn forms to fill out. All this bureaucracy should've gone the way of Old Earth, for crying out loud.
If he takes over the General-Governorship as Hammond wishes, the first decree he'd make is No More Paperwork, Ever. (Well, that and Cake Every Single Day, of course. Job's gotta have some perks, right?)
The General's been making noises about retirement within the next year or so, stepping down to help his daughter care for his grandchildren, among the first refugees to arrive on the base right after the Big Quake. As his 2IC, Jack's the most obvious candidate for taking over.
He doesn't want to be The Man. He really doesn't.
But he's been groomed to take over since Day Three, Year Zero and there's no one else qualified. Or wants it, frankly. Overseeing the NEDF plus three offworld bases is a tough job, even as part of the settlement's ruling council. Which fortunately isn't as deep into small-minded politics as the IOA was, but still a crushing bore for a man of action like him.
Well, he'll just have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.
Jack squints at the form in front of him, wondering if he should take out his reading glasses. Not that he needs them much but lately he swears the fine print's getting smaller and smaller.
A soft tap on the door. "Yeah?"
"Um, hi. Is this a bad time?" It's Becky, with an apologetic look. Perfect timing.
"Nope, not at all. C'mon in, have a seat." Sweeps everything back into the pile, more than grateful for her interruption. "So how's tricks?"
She hesitates, picking at a seam on her blue jacket (BDUs having been accepted as working clothes for military and civilians alike around the base). "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she mutters to herself.
"Hey it's me, remember? You know you can ask your ol' Uncle Colonel anything." Gentle encouragement, always the best tactic to use with his niece.
She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I need some advice."
"Relationship advice?" Okay, anything but that.
A wry smile. "No, that's Mac's department. Or Janet's, actually." She pauses, lightly taps her fingers together. "See, what I need is work advice. I've got some intel-"
"Thanks to the AI in the chair?"
She squirms a bit, for some reason. "It's within the whole city, but basically, yeah."
"What kind of intel?"
"Nothing I can articulate properly yet. Though I have a hunch it's something big, that could make all the difference for us against Anubis. I need to know how to write it up for a mission. You know, go through the proper channels."
"Really." He has to admit her gut feelings have been pretty accurate lately. (Well, except for when she was certain something bad had happened to Daniel on P2S-4C3, aka Kelowna. Which was a good thing, as it turned out.) "Gotta say I'm flattered you're asking me for advice but why not get Daniel to write it up for you? He's good at military jargonese."
"Because I think I ought to learn how to do this myself. So will you help me, Uncle Jack? Please?"
Such an anxious look in her eyes as she waits for his reply. Not that he could ever deny his favorite niece anything.
He had his own hunch Becky was gonna come to him sooner or later, anyway. It bothers him she got the Ancient stuff downloaded into her brain this time, when by all rights it should've been him.
No one should have to go through what he did, feeling his brain overwritten bit by bit. If not for the Asgards' intervention almost nothing of him would've been left.
However, it's been a month since she first sat in that chair, with no indication so far of the same happening to her. Maybe it's just because she's younger, and therefore more resilient.
Becky's come a long way from the timid teenager at her family's gravesite. Years spent living with his brother have freed and toughened her spirit, preparing her for anything that might come her way.
She seems happy enough working as an assistant but for a while now he's been certain- as confirmed in covert discussions with Daniel- his niece is ready for more responsibility.
Time to take her training to the next level. O'Neill-style, of course.
Yep, perfect timing.
He grins, leaning back in the chair and stretching his long legs out on the desk (time to get comfortable, and damn the paperwork). "Your lucky day, Beck. Just so happens I've got some free time today. Let me tell you a few things..."
TO: General-Governor George Hammond, Commander NEDF
FROM: Dr. Rebecca Grahme, Dept. of Anthropology, Archaeology and Linguistics, SGC
MISSION PROPOSAL: Operation Astria
STATEMENT OF PURPOSE:
To investigate a combination offensive/defensive system designated Astria sto pro Oculo (Star in the Eye) by Huy-Braesealis, the AI controlling the Ancient city of the same name.
To assess condition of said system and possible implementation for use in defending Gateway Settlement and environs (Phase 1), initialize (Phase 2) and test (Phase 3) if deemed suitable.
PERSONNEL REQUIRED:
Colonel J. O'Neill
Major S. Carter
Dr. D. Jackson
Teal'c
Major J. Sheppard
Dr. R. Grahme
Dr. J. Fraiser
Dr. M. R. McKay
Dr. C. Beckett
Dr. R. Zelenka
A. MacGyver
Lt. Colonel C. Mitchell
Major E. Lorne
EQUIPMENT AND OTHER ELEMENTS REQUIRED:
Two (2) "Puddlejumper" shuttlecraft (Phases 1 and 2)
One (1) MALP, one (1) Advanced Sensor Drone (Phase 1)
Two (2) F-302s, piloted by Lt. Col. Mitchell and Maj. Lorne (Phase 3)
Two (2) structures in upper atmosphere/low orbit for targeting (Phase 3)
Technical assistance by Huy-Braesealis (AI) (Phases 2 and 3)
Radio set for communications relay between SGC and control room in Huy-Braesealis (city) (Phases 2 and 3)
PLAN OF ACTION:
"Can't sleep, huh?"
Daniel leans against the doorway, blinking sleepily at her behind his glasses, hair tousled. Clad only in boxers, arms crossed loosely. The light from the computer screen highlighting the subtle sheen of sweat on his bare chest.
Such smooth, delectable skin. So soft and warm under her hands. She can just taste the fine salt as she kisses slowly down his body...
Becky gives herself a mental shake. No time to indulge in fantasies. "Sorry, did I wake you?"
"Only when I realized you weren't with me." A kiss to her cheek before peering over her shoulder at the computer screen. "You've been working awfully hard on this proposal, haven't you? Above and beyond what's usually needed for a mission."
"Really? According to Jack doing all this prep is SOP-" She pauses, frowns as a nasty thought comes to her.
He'd been awfully eager to give her advice when she asked the other day. Maybe too eager.
Had he been putting her on the whole time? Her uncle's got a reputation as a trickster, after all. Wouldn't put it past him.
"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head. "I swear, family or no, black ops training or no, one of these days I'm gonna throttle him."
"Oooh, can I watch?"
She chuckles at his eager expression. "You might even want to sell tickets. Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with a plan to get back at him."
"Sounds good to me." He captures her lips in a deep, lingering kiss, leaving her reeling when he abruptly releases her.
"Um," she says weakly, "that's not what I meant..."
"Oh, I think it is." His playful smile morphs quickly into a concerned frown. "What's wrong? You're not worried about the briefing, are you?"
"Maybe a little." She raises her arms to stretch, wincing at the unexpected tightness in her shoulder blades.
"Hey, you're all tense here. Let me take care of that." Thumbs dig skillfully into the skin. She moans in appreciation of his deft, sure touch.
"God, you're wonderful. How did you get so good at this?"
A low chuckle. "I'll never tell." Long fingers press into another sore spot, earning another soft moan. "You'll be just fine," he soothes. "I have every faith in you. No one's gonna laugh at you, trust me."
"You don't know that. I swear my uncles both think I'm still just a kid. And who'd take me seriously, anyway?"
"Becky, stop it. You've more than earned your place with us, you know you have. And after all the time you've spent in the city since the expedition, no one's likely to question your expertise."
"Yeah, but-"
A caressing finger on her lips silences her. "Nope. No more second guessing. You're done for the night." Ignoring her protests he saves the file and shuts down the computer. Pulls her up from the chair, right against his firm body. A look of desire in those blue bedroom eyes sets her heart to pounding. "Come with me, hubibi," he croons. "Let me take your mind off your worries and onto something more...pleasurable, hmm?"
Becky swallows, suppressing a shiver as his voice drops into a husky register. He's not going to take no for an answer. And judging by the knowing smirk on those sensual lips he's also well aware she loves it when he seduces her in other languages.
She glances at the computer and bites her lower lip. She really should get back to work.
He takes her hand, nibbling gently on the knuckles. "Ahbak ya tayir altanani. Taeal 'iilaa alsarir, " he whispers against her skin before covering it in more kisses.
Oh, what the hell. The work can wait.
"Ya gharab." She lets him lead her to the bedroom.
Becky takes a sip of water, all she can swallow what with her stomach tied up in knots. Flips through notes, committing the words to memory one final time. Not for the first time wonders why she's doing this solo.
But Daniel has every confidence in her to carry this off. She won't let him down.
The Gate having discharged the contingent from Alpha Base, people soon file into the room, taking their seats at the long conference table. Glances are made in her direction, along with smiles and subtle, encouraging nods or winks. Mac gently squeezes her shoulder as he passes by to sit next to Janet.
A stirring from within. ~Do you need assistance, Domina? I can do the presentation if you wish.~
No, thank you. Go back to sleep.
~Yes, Domina.~
No need to arouse suspicions.
Hammond enters after the others are seated as usual, acknowledging in genial fashion the salutes and respectful nods. "At ease. Dr. Grahme, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then by all means please proceed."
One last look around the room. Familiar faces all, quiet and attentive. A slow wink from Jack.
Right. She can do this.
"Good morning, all. First I'd like to present a little background information on Huy-Braesealis.
"On Old Earth Hy-Brasil- also called the Fortunate Island, as derived from the Gaelic word breas, meaning noble or fortunate- was thought to be located generally southwest of Ireland. It appeared on maps from around 1325 to 1865, sometimes confused with the islands of the Azores, or at least enough to inspire the later name for the country in South America. In fact, the central image on the Brazilian flag- a circle with a channel across the center- was the island's symbol on early maps.
"It also had a reputation for disappearing, whether in fog or under the waves, then reappearing briefly once every seven years. But regardless of that the island was rumored to be the home of a wealthy and highly advanced civilization-"
"Similar to legends of Atlantis," Daniel interjects. She raises an eyebrow at him. "Sorry."
"Which brings us to the Ancient city we know now as Huy-Braesealis. Through my connection to the AI via the control chair I've learned of a combination defensive and offensive system protecting not only the city but also potentially the entire valley. Called by the Ancients Astria sto pro Oculo, or Star in the Eye-"
Mitchell raises his hand. "'Scuse me, but where's the Eye? I don't see it."
"Daniel, will you please bring up the first image, and rotate it 90 degrees?" He nods, typing on the laptop. On the screen behind her an aerial shot of the valley appears, two mountain ranges running north to south and slightly curving inwards, framing the settlement valley.
As the image is rotated Becky holds her up her hand, curving her thumb and fingers towards each other in imitation, in front of her left eye. "See the shape now?"
Gradual nods of agreement.
"According to the AI the system consists of five activation points- the city itself and four additional emplacements located in both ranges. When properly connected they possess the dual capability to either generate a protective shield over the valley called aspida or combine to form aktina. Which is, in the immortal words of my uncle the Colonel," with a wink for Jack, "a big honkin' space gun. Or space ray, in this case."
He beams at her. "That's my girl."
Sam raises a hand. "What's the power source for the system?"
"Each emplacement requires what the AI calls a potentia," Becky explains. "There's nothing in our records about it, so Daniel was kind enough to do a sketch and color, based on the AI's description."
A second image appears on the screen. Somewhat cylindrical in shape, consisting of yellowish crystals in a black wire framework with touches of dark brown, burnt orange and green. Rough octagon on the top, red crystal in the center. Resembling a flame shape when upside down, at least to Becky's eyes.
"Proboha, Rodney," Radek murmurs. "It...it's-"
"Yes, yes, of course it is!" He leans forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
Everyone else trades puzzled glances.
"So what is it?" Jack finally ventures.
"A ZedPM. Zero Point Module. Obviously."
"Dr. McKay, would you mind elaborating for the rest of us?" Hammond inquires.
He'd rather be doing anything but, judging by his sour expression. "Right. Since they designed the Stargates to be powered by neutrinos the Ancients obviously knew something about quantum mechanics. They clearly knew how to harness zero point energy, which is present at the quantum level when energy's converted to entropy-"
Becky snaps her fingers. "Vacuum energy! When all matter is removed in space energy remains, in the form of particles which spontaneously emerge and exist for fractions of a second before being annihilated by anti-particles."
Everyone looks at her in surprise. She shrugs, a little sheepish. "What? I read a lot of science fiction."
Mac chuckles. "The advantages of being a bookworm, huh?"
Rodney waves a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Since by definition zero point energy can never be depleted, it's theoretically both unlimited and free. Containment units- or Zero Point Modules- were therefore created and used by the Ancients to power all manner of devices."
"Puts the batteries by that ol' pink bunny to shame, huh?" Jack quips.
"Certainly capable of storing and producing much more than even a naquadah generator, sir," Sam concurs. "That makes sense, considering either mode would require a huge expenditure of energy. But where do we find these ZPMs?"
"Oh, that's easy," Becky says. "The city's preparing them as we speak."
Everyone stares at her again, nonplussed by the offhandedness of her remark.
McKay looks a bit put out. "Hmph. Way to bury the lead."
"I'll show you where the city's manufacturing them, and anyone else who's interested. Would that make you feel better?"
He blinks at her, momentarily taken aback. "...Yeah. It would."
"So. Four emplacements, four ZPMs," John says. "Makes sense. But where do we fit into this?"
"According to the AI the Ancients designed and built the system, but never got the chance to initialize and test it before they disappeared," Becky explains. "Each emplacement must be initialized by someone with the ATA gene. The AI also recommends a two-person team, one to activate and another to insert the ZPM, as well as observe and assist if necessary."
"No doubt in case our heads explode or whatever," Jack notes, very dry. "So why the five of us again?"
"I've only taken a small sample of the population so far, Colonel," Carson says, "but based on my tests the strongest expressions of the gene are right here at this table- myself, you and your brother, your niece and Major Sheppard."
"So we're freaks? Now that's just peachy." Becky wonders if she's the only one to hear the fear underlying Jack's voice.
"Lab rats," John mutters with distaste. Mac's frowning slightly now as well.
"Oh come now," Carson protests, his accent thickening, "it's not so bad as all that."
Jack glares at him in misdirected animosity.
Becky groans, inwardly. This isn't how she wanted the briefing to go. Not at all.
Thing is, she can relate. Of course she can.
But now's not the time to dwell, as Jack himself might say. Better to keep on task, regain focus.
She pounds the table hard, only once. That gets everyone's attention. "We are not freaks! We've just got something extra which makes us uniquely qualified to carry out this mission, that's all. Besides," she adds with a wry smile and a gesture around the table, "most of us here are unique, in one way or another. C'mon guys, think about it."
Silence follows as everyone ponders her words.
"She's right, guys," Mac says eventually. "I mean, you gotta admit we're in good company, all things considered." Winks at Becky.
Jack still doesn't look very comfortable with the idea, but at least keeps further misgivings to himself. "Whatever. So once it's up and running, is it gonna need any babysitting?"
"No. After that it should be fully automated, just needing the command to activate when needed."
"But how does it work?" Radek asks.
"I'm not really sure, and the AI never explained. Hopefully you, Sam and Rodney can figure it out."
"So who are in these two-person teams you mentioned, Beck?" Jack asks. There's a twinkle in his eye she can't decipher.
"I'll be making those assignments when the mission's ready to run." Whoops. That sounded presumptuous. Hopefully no one's noticed.
"How about us?" Mitchell indicates himself and Lorne.
"You guys are Phase Three, testing. Using your F-302s to simulate attacks for aspida, then releasing a couple targets into the upper atmosphere for aktina. Mac, think you can work up something in that regard?"
"Yes, ma'am." he says with a grin. "Might have a couple notions already."
"And afterwards, Dr. Grahme?" Hammond inquires.
"Well, sir, after the initialization it should be ready to use in whichever mode is required, defense or offense."
"Can both be used at the same time?"
"No, sir. Not that I'm aware of."
"How long will it take to prepare for the mission?"
"A couple weeks, by my estimate. Enough time for inspection and repairs if needed for each emplacement and constructing the targets."
"Do you think you're prepared to lead this team?"
Her eyes go wide. She did not just hear what she thought she heard. No. No way.
"Me, sir?" Her voice squeaks a bit. How mortifying.
The General looks amused. "Of course. As you already have so much of this planned out, I see no reason not to put you officially in charge of this mission."
For a moment she feels faint. Maybe because she hasn't had anything to eat yet. Or a sudden attack of nerves.
Many speculative glances tossed her way but to her surprise no objections are raised. Not a single one.
Which is frankly terrifying.
For crying out loud, girl, she tells herself sternly. Buck up. Be brave.
Besides, it'll be fun. She gets to give everyone else orders for a change. Even Jack.
"Yes, sir. I'll do my best."
"That's all I expect, Dr. Grahme. You have a go for Phase One of Operation Astria. We'll reconvene in two weeks' time for final briefing. Dismissed."
Becky keeps herself steady as the others leave, then his words slowly sink in. Her legs begin to wobble.
She swallows, gripping the edge of the table for support.
A gentle touch on her arm and she jumps.
Daniel looks down at her in concern. "Sorry, it's just me. You okay?"
"The General wants me in charge of this mission," she says, faintly. "Me, of all people."
"Well I'm not surprised, considering you worked so hard on the proposal and everything. And you're our liaison with the city besides. Makes sense." If it wasn't for his hand steadying her arm she'd be sinking to the floor right about now.
"I don't know if I'm up to it. I mean, being any kind of a leader. I'm more used to working behind the scenes, you know?"
"Don't worry. You'll do fine, even Jack thinks so. Otherwise he wouldn't have suggested you do all that prep in the first place." A note of surprise in his voice, as if he just realized it.
She frowns. "You really think he set me up for this?"
"Actually I do. Even when he seems to be just goofing off he pays closer attention to things than even I give him credit for. Over the years I've realized there's very little he does without some purpose or plan."
"As opposed to Uncle Mac, who thrives on spontaneity." She shakes her head ruefully. "Unbelievable. No, totally believable. He knew I needed to work everything out beforehand anyway."
And then this. Giving her a shot at leadership.
Which maybe was the point.
She's gotta hand it to her ol' Uncle Colonel. He's crazy, but like a fox more than anything else.
And if he has that much faith in her, then so be it.
She tilts her head, staring up at Daniel in a speculative manner. "You know, I could use an assistant. Think you're up to the task, Dr. Jackson?"
He shrugs. "Sure. Why not? I'll try anything at least once. Besides," he adds with a cheeky wink, "You know how adventurous I am in the pursuit of knowledge."
She grins back. "Now that gives me a few ideas. But breakfast first, okay? All of a sudden I'm starving."
The mission must be a success, there's too much at stake otherwise.
Here's her proving ground. She'll try her hardest to make everyone proud.
No matter what.
"You really think letting Becky take point is a wise thing to do, Jack?" Mac asks a few days later. "Don't lie to me. I see your hand in this."
Jack hefts a ceramic bottle of beer (he's taken up both pottery and brewing in his spare time). "Yeah. Why not? It's a learning experience. Gives her a chance to spread her wings and gain self-confidence. You worried about her?"
Mac shrugs. "Can't help but be. She's pushing herself too much at it is, burying herself in forms and reports and meetings with everyone, including us. Always been a hard worker, but Daniel says she's burning the midnight oil far more often than usual-"
"He should know."
"Seriously, Jack. He's worried she's gonna burn out before long, and so am I. C'mon, 'fess up already. You don't have to go through all this for real when you prep for a mission, do you?"
He leans back in his chair, stretching out his legs. Regards his twin from under the brim of his cap. "Apart from the tactical and armaments side? Not really. Just between the two of us, usually I kinda piggyback my stuff on top of Carter's or Daniel's. Let them do the heavy lifting, you know? Less stress that way."
"Jack..."
"Look, Becky's doing fine. Taken to this even better than I'd imagined. No one has any complaints. Well, save for grumbles from McKay, but that's nothing new and not even about her. I have every confidence in our niece. You should too, or why else have you been filling her head with those Brave Princess stories when she was a kid?"
"I do, believe me. It's just that-"
"Hey, I get it. You're used to looking out for her. But she's a grown adult now, with abilities and responsibilities all her own. Besides, she's not doing this solo. We've all got her back."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. But still-"
"Watch it, now," Jack admonishes. "You wouldn't want our fearless leader thinking you don't have faith in her or the mission, now do you?"
Mac scowls. "You know, I really hate when you do that. Reminds me of arguments with Mom and losing every time she lifted her finger that way."
"Pretty effective tactic then, isn't it? C'mon Mac, lighten up. You worry too much, always have."
"Can't say as I didn't have good reason back when I took her in." He sighs, running a hand through unruly hair. "Must've been nuts at the time, thinking I could make a halfway decent in loco parentis, what with my Phoenix assignments and Murdoc and friends getting me into trouble and all."
"Quit brooding on the past already, willya? You're as bad as Daniel when he gets going." More soberly. "You and Becky did just fine together, you know that. It's because of you she's taking all this wackiness in stride."
"Instead of a more reasonable attitude, like sheer blind terror." A rueful chuckle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Though Allison always was the more practical one in our family."
"Yeah. Like mother like daughter." Holds up his bottle. "To our big sis. Hope she's getting a kick out of watching over us, wherever she is."
"To Allison." Mac cocks his head, giving him a long, thoughtful stare. "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd swear you're enjoying this a little too much."
An offhanded shrug. "Makes a nice change, let me tell ya. Hey, don't worry about Becky, she's got this. Have I ever steered you wrong?"
"Let me count the ways." Very dry.
"Yeah, sure, ya betcha." Jack takes a final, speculative swig of his bottle. Not great, this latest batch. Yet not too bad either. One of these days he'll get it right. "C'mon, let's see if Sergeant White's figured out how to make decent ice cream yet to go with today's cake."
So much to do, so little time. Being a leader is harder than she thought.
First up is an inspection tour of the emplacements. Which are all in remarkably good shape, considering they're at least ten thousand years old. Easily accessed by contact with an ATA gene carrier.
One entrance is partially covered with rock from a landslide but the obstruction's soon removed with help from a platoon of Marines ferried in on a second Jumper.
The exteriors are as rough-hewn in appearance as the city's towers. Ragged pinnacles of rock blend in with the rest of the range, save for a perfectly smooth, concave section near the top lined in a familiar grayish metal. Also like the city the interiors are more refined in contrast to the exteriors, largely empty save for a dais with a less elaborate version of a control chair next to a console complete with a slot underneath for a ZPM.
"The concave section's coated in naquadah, but with a different structure to the embedded crystalline matrix," Sam remarks, going over the readings later from both MALP and sensor drone.
"To store and reflect energy." Radek muses, "as in Stargates."
"More like a parabolic reflector antenna. Energy in the form of electromagnetic waves are captured by the antenna and reflected at the focal point. The whole signal therefore remains in phase with no cancellation before moving on to the next antenna."
"And perhaps to intensify before redirecting as well? So by being bounced around it gathers enough energy into itself."
"Exactly. But signals attenuate the longer the distance between antennas, so a lot more power is required to span the valley. Which explains why each emplacement has an additional energy source, to give it a boost."
The next day Becky has John take them to the city to see the laser array mounted in the highest room of the central tower, consisting of a light source mounted in a reflective container and surrounded by a crystal matrix.
"Lasers are created when the electrons in atoms absorb energy from an electrical current or another laser and become excited," Sam explains for her benefit. "The excited electrons move briefly from a low-energy state to a higher one, then when they return to their normal state emit photons with a coherent wavelength and pattern."
"Similar to how lasers were produced back on Old Earth," Zelenka concurs. "Allowing of course for Ancient refinements. Pulses of light excited into a higher energy state, bouncing off the reflective surfaces, stimulating the electrons even more before dropping back to normal. The laser photons are then sent through the crystal matrix which acts as an amplifier-"
McKay sniffs. "Yes, yes, we can already surmise how it works. Really, this is all so basic."
"Yeah, but I'm interested," Becky says with a wink for John. They do like showing off their knowledge. "So what happens next?"
"Well, the photons are bounced back and forth through the crystals, causing more electrons to drop to their lower energy states, producing huge numbers of photons of the same wavelength and direction-"
"Which we see as an extremely bright beam of light?"
"...A gross oversimplification, but yes."
"Most importantly for our purposes," Sam adds, "laser light is directional, and because it's coherent, it stays focused for vast distances. So this system's basically an energy generator and amplifier. This is fascinating!"
Becky grins. "You ain't seen nothing yet. Let me show you guys what's in the basement. It'll really knock your socks off."
A sub-basement, actually, with what turns out to be a completely automated machine turning out ZPMs.
Specialized crystals grow before their eyes from molds, bound onto wire circuitry frameworks. Each module glows brightly with unearthly light for a brief moment before settling down, filled by virtue of a stable micro-miniature wormhole continually opening and closing, bleeding off zero point energy from the void between the stars.
She's glad she advised them earlier to bring their sunglasses.
Rodney's practically drooling. Sam's at a loss for words. Zelenka keeps muttering in Czech.
Even John's pretty impressed, remarking later in offhand fashion he's seen Rodney in such ecstasy only a couple times before this (the smirk accompanying his cryptic words puzzling Becky for some time after until she finally figures it out, and good for them).
Okay, so there are some advantages to being the liaison for an Ancient city, if it means she can show off cool stuff like this.
Meanwhile in his usual ingenious fashion Mac's come up with a prototype target for Phase Three.
Spheres are built with help from Siler, consisting of frameworks built of a native bamboo-like grassoid, lashed together with duct tape and covered in sheets of shimmering Mylar, one of those inexplicable salvage finds within one of Alvarez's vast storehouses. Lightweight and flexible enough to be towed into low orbit by a F-302. Trials conducted with help from Mitchell and Lorne have proven very promising so far.
Between runs the pilots have exciting stories to tell of aerial dogfights, and Mac keeps them laughing in turn with his flying exploits and mishaps with Jack Dalton.
So progress is being made on all fronts, but all the same Becky's finding herself running ragged. Stroking egos, offering encouragements, making sure people have what they need. Reviewing and signing off on every little progress report and requisition in true bureaucratic fashion, which she ought to be used to thanks to her time at Phoenix but finds frustrating nonetheless.
(How on earth had Uncle Jack and his team managed to save the world on a regular basis and handle all this paperwork at the same time? Talk about stress.)
It feels as if there aren't nearly enough hours in the day to accomplish everything, even with Daniel's invaluable help.
From time to time she wonders just how much more she can take before cracking.
But there's no choice, the fate of the settlement- what's left of the human race, even- is in her hands now. She has to keep going.
Even if it might just push her off the deep end.
Daniel watches Becky hunched over her desk, poring over reports and diagrams. Taking off her glasses to rub at her face every now and then, muttering under her breath.
She's become much more tense and irritable lately. Barely sleeps. Eats what's in front of her but doesn't take the time to enjoy either the food or the company like she used to. Hardly reads for fun anymore, even.
All very worrisome.
It hurts more than he thought it would, watching his beloved burn the candle at both ends like this. As driven and detail-oriented as he is, turns out she's even more so.
He's never had to do quite this much prep for a mission before, and neither has Jack or Sam. Yet somehow Becky's convinced herself of the need to oversee practically every aspect, no matter how insignificant.
Shades of himself from eight years ago, obsessing over his theories of cultural cross-pollination and possible alien contact in Ancient Egypt. Delving into every minor translation, every insignificant fact. Desperate for meaning, for correlation, for justification. For proof of his sanity, which was hanging by a thread even before his encounter with Catherine one rainy afternoon.
Becky might be headed down the same path if something isn't done.
She's the mirror of his soul and he loves her for it. And for much more, of course. He'd do anything for her.
Which is why he's about to go behind her back a second time, as he did a couple years before. Like then it's the only way he can think of to save her sanity.
As her assistant his job is to ensure her well-being, making sure she has what she needs to carry out her appointed task. Including a much-needed break.
So why does it feel like a betrayal all over again?
He can only hope she'll forgive him. Someday.
She raises a suspicious eyebrow as he grabs his jacket. "Where are you going?"
"Just over to Botany, get some more klahbark to brew from Dave Parrish. We're fresh out. Sure you don't want to come with me, take a break?" Knowing what the answer will be but asks anyway.
"I'm fine," comes the reply, more curt than usual.
Yeah, definitely not herself. Time to have a word with Jack.
Though he also stops afterwards and picks up a cloth filter bag of prepared klahbark from Parrish, because they really are out.
One day, he hopes, they'll find another world with coffee-like beans, but for now klah will have to do.
At least it has caffeine.
Not taking point for once has been pretty fun for Jack. No need to perform any pesky pre-mission prep so he feels as loose and relaxed as if coming back from leave.
He really should delegate more often.
Though now since talking to Daniel he's got this tickling sensation down his spine, a familiar gut feeling telling him Becky's in trouble, or will be soon.
So instead of sleeping he finds himself prowling restlessly around the base the next night, giving everything a quick once-over.
Sergeant White and his crew do dishes and next day's meal prep to the sound of oldies on Radio Gateway. A couple of SG teams suit up for their own missions (the Gate is operational 24/7, after all). Custodial crew tidy up here and there.
Everything's in order, save for lights blazing in one particular building in the lab section.
Becky's slumped forwards with her head resting on her arms, Daniel leaning back with mouth wide open. He'd never tell either of them they snore, but both have this adorable habit of occasionally sighing in their sleep.
Birds of a feather, and all that. He knew they'd make a cute couple.
"Good morning, campers! Up and at 'em!"
No answer. Clearly nothing short of an unscheduled offworld activation's gonna wake them.
Tempting to get whoever's on Gate duty at this late hour to sound the klaxon. But that would cause too much of a ruckus, and the General's not a fan of having his beauty sleep interrupted without cause.
Jack settles for picking up a thick tome from a nearby table. The resounding thump as it hits the floor is oddly satisfying.
"Huh, wha...?" Daniel mutters, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. "It can't be morning already, can it?"
"Sorry, Danny. Not yet." He balances atop a corner of her desk, folding his arms. "What a pair of night-owls you guys make."
Becky utters a huge yawn and smacks her lips. Blinking up at him, more than a little befuddled. "Uncle Jack? What're you doing here? What time's it?"
"Time for all good archaeologists and nieces to be tucked in bed, that's what."
"Sorry, gotta stay up." She yawns again. "Can't sleep, not now."
"Yes you can. Or ought to, anyway. Being in charge of a mission doesn't mean you have to be working round the clock, Beck. You really need some rest."
"Later," she insists. "Got too much to do. Everyone's counting on me. Leave me alone."
"No can do, kiddo. Go on, get some shut-eye. It'll all be waiting for you when you get back-"
"I won't go to bed!" She jumps up from her seat, eyes blazing. "You're not my dad. You can't make me!"
He almost stumbles off the desk in shock. She's never yelled at him like that before. Or anyone, for that matter. Ever.
(Mac once commented- with his usual knack for dry understatement- that getting Becky to go to bed at a reasonable hour's the only time he's had to act parental. Jack can understand why, now.)
As it turns out Becky's equally stunned, a panicked look in her eyes as if fixing to run away.
Briefly he wonders if Janet ought to be called in with a sedative.
Nah, better not. Wouldn't do for the others to hear about this. Bad for morale.
Yet what can he do? He's not in charge of the mission, after all. She is.
For the first time ever he has absolutely no idea what to do next.
Fortunately Daniel does, elbowing past him to gather her into his arms.
She tenses at first, then relaxes against him. "Oh god, I think I'm losing my mind."
Jack's tempted to reply with one of his usual cutting remarks, like he does to anyone who pushes themselves beyond their limits without thinking.
Yet he hesitates.
It's his niece, for crying out loud. For all they enjoy verbal sparring from time to time he simply cannot bring himself to lay into her now. Not in her fragile state.
Besides, it's kinda his fault in the first place.
He's right about her being ready for leadership, down to his bones. This mission is perfect for her, which is why he convinced the General to give her the chance.
He forgot how hard she'd push herself, though. All the way to the edge.
And Mac had warned him, to be fair. Even as a kid she held herself to impossibly high standards. Sensitive and serious and determined to do well no matter what, be it handicrafts or singing or academia.
Old soul in a young body, as Mac told Daniel last month. Sure got that right.
Daniel's holding her carefully, easing her shudders with a slow hand down her back, murmuring soft words. No doubt seeing some of himself in her, from back in the day.
Usually bright, cheerful and clever, the long hours have taken their toll on the poor kid, judging by the dark circles under her eyes and tight, harried expression. Even her auburn tresses- so much like her mother's- have lost some of their luster, hanging in lank strands.
No wonder Danny and Mac have been so worried.
Best to keep it between the four of them, he decides, lest the others start losing faith at the last minute.
Or Becky loses faith in herself, for that matter.
He's trained to assess the safety risk in every situation as team leader, and right now a severely sleep-deprived niece could jeopardize the entire mission. She's gotta get some balance back.
"Sorry," she whispers to him while still in Daniel's arms, blinking away tears. "So sorry."
He knows she is. Besides, he can never stay angry at her for long. "It's okay, Beck. You just need a break, that's all." He pauses, considering. "Tell you what- why don't you take the next three days off on me? Sleep, read, do whatever you want so long as it's got nothing to do with work. So what do ya say?"
She frowns but Daniel nods agreement after a sharp glance at him. "Good idea, Jack."
"Glad you think so Danny, 'cause you're on leave too. In fact, both of you are under strict orders not to report on base until Tuesday. Got it?" He lifts his finger, forestalling her protest. "I'm serious, now. Your place, the refectory or one of those music concerts around town you guys like. Nowhere else. No side trips to the city, either. That's an order."
"Tuesday? But that's mission day," she protests. "We're not ready-"
Daniel clears his throat. "Um, actually we are."
She gives him a skeptical look. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Becky looks ready to complain- several times- but decides against it. Finally her delicate shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. You win."
"That's my girl. C'mon, let's blow this joint." Briskly ushering them out of the lab and back to the residential square.
Daniel lets Becky in then lingers outside. "She'll be fine, Jack. I'll look after her."
"Know you will. Thanks for the heads up. I'd honestly forgotten she'd take it so seriously."
"Not your fault." He pauses. "Have to admit it was fun, being her assistant. She's really good, even if way too focused on details at times."
"Sounds familiar." Very dry.
A crooked smile. "Yeah, guess so. Still think she's ready for more responsibility?"
"Yeah. Learning experience, remember? She'll know better than to stretch herself so thin next time."
Daniel nods. "I think so too. She'll do just fine on Tuesday."
"I know she will. Everything's ready, then?"
"Paperwork's already been sent to Hammond for his approval."
"Without her signature? Or did she already sign it and just doesn't remember?"
"Well, sort of." A sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was already typed up and everything. Just kinda sneaked it by her. I won't do that to her again, I promise."
"Better not." Jack frowns as a thought comes to him. "Wait a minute. Isn't that how you passed all those unnecessary requisitions for more books and stuff by me in the past?"
There's that shifty expression Daniel's so good at. "Wouldn't exactly call them unnecessary, but yeah..."
"Figures. That's blackmail material, you know. Don't be surprised if I hold it over you in return for a favor sometime."
"Whatever, Jack." An eloquent roll of his eyes.
It's kinda nice to just stand there for a while, taking in the stillness of early morning. Quieter and more peaceful now with the direwolves kept away by Sam's infrasound barrier.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for looking out for her, when..." A vague wave of his hand.
"Of course." He pauses. "I love her, you know. More than I ever thought possible, after losing Sha're. I'd do anything for her."
"Yeah, I know."
They share a significant look, meaning in team-specific nonverbal communication We shall never speak of this again.
Jack's mouth widens in a huge yawn, surprising himself. "Whew, guess I'd better turn in. Night, Danny. Don't let the bedbugs bite."
A sly smile briefly crosses the archaeologist's lips as he glances in the direction of the bedroom. "Oh, I'm sure some biting will occur. Night, Jack."
The door shuts firmly, leaving him a little perturbed by the slightly salacious words.
Not that he's ever minded their relationship. How could he, when he practically encouraged it right from the start?
Probably a good idea to let them have their space, all the same.
Or better yet issue the same orders to everyone else on the team, since they've all been working so hard. No exceptions.
A sly smile comes to his own face as he thinks of Sam. Who knows what fun they might get up to, with three whole days of downtime?
Mission day should be interesting.
Becky's half asleep when Daniel enters the bedroom. Lying as usual on her left side in only her underwear, glasses on the nightstand.
Which is a relief. For a moment he'd been afraid she'd insist on staying awake on principle. She can be just as stubborn as Jack, sometimes. Or his brother. Like uncles, like niece.
At least she sides with him on arguments. Most of the time, anyway.
Daniel removes his own glasses and strips down to his boxers. Spooning behind her, right arm curving around her waist. Tucking his head next to hers he breathes in her scent- books and chocolate, sea spray, lavender and jasmine.
Delicious. Mouth-watering.
He wants to cover her in kisses but it'd be better to let her rest for now. Pleasure can wait until later.
She stirs a little, her left hand coming up to stroke his arm. "Sorry about earlier," she whispers into the darkness.
"Sssh. Don't worry about it." Drops a kiss into her hair. "Sweet dreams, hummingbird."
"You too, raven." Falling instantly into a deep sleep.
As he told Jack, he'd do anything for her. Which is why going behind her back is both the easiest and hardest thing he's ever had to do. And he's done it twice now.
Hopefully he'll never have to again.
SOP= Standard Operating Procedure.
Brief references to S2 E16 "The Fifth Race" and S5 E21 "Meridian", though that never occurred in this AU.
Again, for translations and explanations of certain concepts please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth in my Ad Astra 'verse series, on AO3.