Star Granger Season 2 - Chapter 7
Thoughts
"speech"
"Goa'uld speech"
SG SG SG SG SG SG SG
May 11th, 1999 - Strawberry Fields
Central Park. Actually, NYC as a whole is just spectacular this time of the year. Cherry trees are blooming everywhere. Sidewalks and corner gardens are covered with narcissus and tulips, filling the grey city with a kaleidoscope of bright colours. In some places, like here under the canopy of the trees, one can relax for a while and maybe lay on the grass in the shade and forget for a moment that she is in the centre of one of the largest and busiest cities in the world.
For us British people, Strawberry Fields is a little piece of home, to remind us of what we pushed away, and let the Americans and their stupid guns kill.
"Hmmm…." Cold lemonade is just perfect right now.
"When are we expected at the boathouse?" R is laying on the grass beside me, not interested at all in getting up. We are here for the Renewable Energy convention. Well, Francis and Keira are, and are there now, dressed decently, and trying to delay insisting customers.
As decently dressed as Keira is willing, that is.
I'm here as a representative of BCE ownership. Went to the opening Gala at the Guggenheim. Held an inspiring lecture together with Francis on day one. And to make sure to be seen, shake hands, and turn down would be suitors.
Creepy!
R is here to help release the duffer who tried to 'liberate' the Naquadah charge from the local reactor for research, safety drill, emergency shut down, or whatever other excuse they were using at the time. It's the fifth time (or so) we are forced to do so, mind you.
That Maybourne twit was already caught three times. Sadly, Obliviation isn't a good deterrent, and we can't let people remember the way the reactors are protected, or more explicitly – the way we react to breaches in security. Finally, we had to go two drops on him. Normals won't recover from the standard three drops of Veritaserum. That led us back to our good old friend the Senator, and a semi-secret, mostly governmental, civil intelligence organization. It is called a variety of names – all abbreviated by NID.
Stephan got a computer for the MI5 to decrypt and research. Meanwhile Jane was given a short list of names. All pillars of the world's business community. She was then gently asked to earn her raise.
"25 minutes," I answer R's original question. "We should better get moving."
R is stretching on the grass, on top of the blanket she stole from the airline, looking at me reluctantly. She then reaches for me to help her up.
Here's a really together girl, who knows where her towel is.
"R?" I hesitantly ask. "Why do you think they want to meet with us?"
"You do know my name, if I remember right?"
"Sure, could have known from the start, but calling you R is much cooler," I grin.
"Sometimes, even with your saving the world thing, and money, and those sophisticated clothing – you're just a brat." She smiles back. "About them – when you're all alone in the world, doing something which is both exciting, dangerous, and top-secret, wouldn't you like to have someone who knows? Whom you can bounce ideas with? People like Samantha, Keira, Calvin, and very few others are very lonely as it is. Don't think for a moment I don't know you might have been on that list, given different upbringing, Luv."
For a while we walk in silence.
"Back with the black hole, Dr Carter might have managed to find some solution."
"Or not," R shrugs. "And she'd prefer 'Captain'. She worked hard for it," R adds softly.
"I still have nightmares…" I tell her.
"You and me both, Hermione. You and I both…"
There is already quite a group waiting for us at the table. Dr, Captain Carter is there with that Colonel O'Neill, along with that Teal'c chap, and two other blocks we have never met.
"Hiya!" I call, smile, and wave over excitedly.
I can be brattish!
Keira rolls her eyes. "Introductions? Just arriving is Miss Hermione Granger, who's the owner of BCE Inc. and agent Rose Smith, of WIB."
One of the guys rolls his eyes.
"You all already know Francis and me. These are Dr Daniel Jackson, and Dr Meredith McKay"
"Rodney," he says, scowling.
"Dr Meredith McKay? I remember this name. Didn't we have a chat a year and a half back?" R remarks?
"Right!" I enthuse. "The Canadian git. Neither of us could stomach working with him closely!"
"That's the git?" Keira asks with wide eyes. "Thank you so much!" she tells him all innocently.
As much innocence as Keira can do, comes to that.
"Big mistake," I'm turning the knife. "Huge!" McKay looks all disgruntled. There's an 'almost' smile on Dr – Captain! Carter's face. Might not be McKay's biggest fan.
"And Dr Jackson. Nice meeting you in person, finally. We keep missing each other. Your name came very highly recommended, but you never picked up?" R is genuinely smiling now.
"Aunty Beatrix sends her regards. Says you never call." I add.
He looks like a decent chap. A little embarrassed now. "Lady Croft? How is dear Beatrix? Still digging and partying?"
"She's mostly doing ancient Runes translations, these days. Particularly, early Egyptian and Norse. You'll be amazed what one might learn from the right texts."
"Buddies?" O'Neill interrupts us in our fun greeting exchange. "Shouldn't we move this thing to a more discrete location?"
Right!
I open my handbag and take out a small cube. All it has is a switch and a light. For those in the know – it's obviously made of Naquadah. If you're very perceptive, it's also a tad larger than the size of my bag and the distance my hand went in to get it would allow. Careful planning was needed to reach this effect.
There is a hint of surprise on Carter's face, and Teal'c is staring at the cube with his intentful look that honestly doesn't reveal anything. His poker face is probably almost as good as Luna's.
I flick the switch on, a light blinks. "I'm good!" I say, overly cheerful.
Inside is a crystal powered Rune. The blinking light was the hardest part. Took Kazuko dearest almost two very frustrating hours. I could do all this much easier with a wave of my hand, but deniability…
Also, some people won't take my word, but will believe in a box with a blinking light.
Honestly.
O'Neill seemed reluctant. Had to go and collect him back once he stepped outside the Notice-Me-Not circle.
"You are selling Goa'uld technology all around the world?" Carter hisses, when small talk is done.
"Yeh, are you nuts?!" O'Neill agrees.
"There is nothing being sold, or published which isn't Earth developed," Keira is fuming. "Or didn't you actually read my thesis? Could you find anything in there not rooted in well-established previous research? I'm not Daniel here who goes on about unproven theories and gets himself ridiculed."
"Hey!"
"Should have waited for proof," I say softly.
"All your orderly developed science doesn't work without Naquadah! Please don't play games with me."
"Right you are. The reactors are fully earth developed. That's why they're so inefficient." Keira insists.
"Wait till you see next-gen, though." Francis brags. "By the time we release the last of our promised 25 reactors, those who fought over being the first to implement them will be a wee bit envious." He smiles.
"I'm that good!" Keira agrees.
"Good things come to those who wait," I remark, thinking that I need to join the conversation, being the owner and all that.
"Being coy again," Carter smiles thinly. "Nothing would have worked without Naquadah powering it all."
"You must have misread." I say with a large smile. "The BCE reactors are powered by Britannium. A Metal we have just lately discovered new and exciting uses for."
As opposed to cursed ostentatious flatware, for example.
"What, Tin and Copper?"
What do you know? Jack knows his chemistry.
"Not Britannia - Britannium! This amazing heavy metal." I then lose all pretence of cheerfulness. "People kicked the Goa'uld off the planet, some, what – five thousand years ago?" I ask, pointing at Dr Jackson. "Do you really think the only thing they were forced to leave behind was your bleeding Port?" I can feel Keira's hand on my shoulder, helping me calm down.
"We, I, don't owe you anything, but I swear down everything we sell, and will sell is fully sourced here on Earth!"
And on British soil!
"Even then," O'Neill adds after a long pause in the conversation. "We will need everything we have to protect the Earth."
Seriously?
"And what are you protecting Earth from, pray tell?"
"Goa'uld?"
He's so single minded. It's like talking with Ron! He's probably more intelligent – I'll give him that…
"Right mate. What about CO2 emissions? Ozone hole? Energy dependence?" Clearly, the Goa'uld take precedence in his mind.
R steps in to stop this conversation line.
Just before it turns into a fully blown argument.
"Sorry, we're missing the whole point here. Let's start this over. You asked us to meet with you – What can WIB and the BCE Inc. do for you girls today?"
It's O'Neil again, who answers. He's clearly the leader among these people. "We just wanted to find a way to cooperate. Maybe even have a joint effort – The UK is our closest ally after all. We think, and our command chain up to the President himself agrees, that having two separate efforts off-world is a waste of resources for both of us."
He clearly can't conceive a possible rejection of that offer.
Does this command chain include a certain Senator?
R let it lay out for a long moment. "Clearly this is too big for me to answer personally without consulting with the Prime Minister?"
He nodes in agreement.
"But I think we'll go with a preemptive no."
"What? Why?!"
"Unmatched set of interests," Keira answers dryly.
"Say, Colonel?" I ask. "I can't help but be curious. You're going 'out there' for what, two-three years now? What exactly is your mission statement?"
I get the 'what do you understand, little girl' look No. 3.
"It is our mission to explore the galaxy, make allies, and discover new technologies, to protect mankind."
"Oh noble!" Keira remarks.
"Out of curiosity, how many allies have you made so far?" I ask?
"Few," he says, all chuffed.
"So, Earth is safe with those allies," I state the (not) obvious. The silence would have been amusing if it wasn't too troubling.
"At least, I'm certain they helped you guys with sparkly technology, so now the US military is ready to protect Earth when the Vogons come to build that intergalactic highway, right?" Unsurprisingly, the silence persists. "And how many enemies did you make while making all those wonderful allies?" I keep pressing.
"Listen kid," he finally cracks.
If you can't offer a good answer, attack the person's age…
"We saved the Earth often enough, so we don't need to explain ourselves to…"
"Brilliant," I cut him off. "First, last and only line of defence, against the worst scum of the universe, and all that rubbish.
"You know, in the place where I grew up, we are very big on life debts dues. Tell me – just how many times did you save the Earth, when the reason for it being in danger at the time can't be traced back to you as well?"
He wants to refute but can't really. Dr Jackson, and Captain Carter look deep in thought.
'Oh freddled gruntbuggly' indeed!
"As you can understand, we have several sincere differences of thoughts, so we will keep developing and selling technologies to save the Earth from more than potential alien threats. We will also keep making sure we're as ready as we can be, before doing. And so, we will keep our operations separate. Obviously, you are more than welcome to keep in touch. Not having a joint operation, doesn't mean we can't cooperate. Even closely." R concludes.
We are two thoughtful groups as we separate and go our different ways.
May 28th1999 – Hampstead, London
It's a nice day, so I walk the few hundred yards between Hampstead station and my parent's home. It's not that I took the Northern line to get here, but it's an excuse to walk the sunny streets and stop at the corner flower stand on my way to visit my parents.
There's also that nice used book shop…
But then – I do want to actually reach my parent's home.
I have this uneasy feeling as soon as I turn into my parent's home's alley. This large black all-terrain is driving out of the alley just as I turn the corner. I can hear a car door shutting, and another big black, parked in front of the Wiemann's, starts and drives away.
Chevrolet?
They were always so proud of their ever-new Range-Rovers.
Somebody's after me
he left his footprints by the garden tree
I'm rushing, just a little, to my parent's front door and knock lightly. After a while I ring, then reach into my bag for my set of keys. The house is silent, for the radio playing dad's music.
Last night when I got home
I got the feeling I was not alone!
"Mum? Daddy? I'm home!" I call into the empty hose. On the back-court table there are a couple of cold, half empty teacups. I walk up the stairs to the first floor, to find more empty rooms.
Mum's phone rings and rings and there is no answer. My wand is in my hand when I walk into my room. Seconds later my Patronus is on its way.
Are you daft?
I ring Harry.
"Can you get to my parent's? They're missing."
"No, we were fixed for tea, and they're not here. Also, someone has gone through my books."
"Bring R?"
"Yes, sent it before I got my thoughts straight and rang."
Quarter of an hour later we are standing together, on the street, looking for any possible signs left behind. Those people were professionals, so nothing is left but my memory. We'll look at it when back at the office.
Books in my room are slightly out of order. R makes sure to take fingerprints but isn't optimistic.
Quarter of an hour later still, a cab stops in front of us and my parents get out. Out for an emergency, sorry for not taking my call. 12 years old with five broken front teeth – they were both hands on for a couple of hours. The poor kid is home now with lots of painkillers, and supervision. They will be home visiting him later this evening, and tomorrow morning as well.
I feel ridiculous now…
R says nothing about me raising the alarm. She still wants to see that memory. "Too many strange activities around us lately to be comfortable," she says.
Fleur will be here for some warding later today. Can't go overboard at a normal house, but a simple Repelling ward tied to an Intention ward will do the trick, and might even stop Mrs. Newburn and her lovely Yorkshire from No. 8, having their do in front of my parent's door. She says that she might even manage to tag anyone triggering it, as long as he's not magical.
May 30th 1999– Brick lane, London
Lazy Sunday mornings are the best. It's quite late when I finally get out of bed. Nature calls and all that, just after nature made us moan, cry out, groan, and giggle. The good thing about living in Brick Ln. is that silencing charms are not even needed. I put on that sheer silk over shirt that Fleur got for me, explaining coyly that sometimes pretending to dress is much better than not dressing at all. Harry's eyes are glued to me, when I walk back, though not exactly to my eyes. I look down on him lying on the bed and smile tenderly as he reaches out to caress my legs. I let the over shirt fall off my shoulders and laugh when he finally pulls me back to bed, on top of him. We're getting comfortable again. I kiss him softly and….
His mobile rings.
He groans and we roll enough for him to reach and silence the ruddy thing.
I smile and kiss him again, deeper than before, when my mobile rings too. Then Harry's joins it.
I won't repeat the length of profanity here, cause children might read it since it's only rated 'T'.
"It's the office," Harry says and silences his mobile.
"What?!" I ask whoever is on the other side with as much empathy and patience as I feel right now. It's Fleur.
"Harry's with you?"
"Yes."
"Get to the office. Both of you."
"Seriously?" I whine.
"It's Sirius," she answers courtly. "And Hermione?"
I can hear a hint of a smile in her voice. "Yes?"
"Get dressed," she says, and disconnect.
The bint!
"Something serious came up, we should go to the office," I shrug and go to the bathroom to get ready.
Twenty minutes later we pop into the office dressed, ready, and unhappy. R is here, looking just as unhappy. Kaden and the whole military unit attached to us too. All looking tense.
"We got an anonymous message earlier this morning. Whoever it's from claims to have a Sirius Black. Your uncle? They want a lot of liquid refined Naquadah."
Harry's face turns blank. "Give me a moment," he says, and Disapparates.
"Can you show me?"
There's a video. A hooded man shows us a roughed-up Sirius, sitting behind a table, and yesterday's newspaper.
How cliché
"It is all well done," R says. We can't get anything out of the video, except it was taken somewhere about six hours away, starting the publishing time of that paper. It can be anywhere in the world, with the right planning.
"This is such a fuck-up," I mumble to myself. "We need to talk with the Prime Minister!" I tell R.
She doesn't get it.
"No need to wake the Prime Minister on a Sunday," Agent Sidney tries to appease me. "We'll find him and rescue him. It will just be a few days. Very unpleasant, but only few," he promises.
"You don't get me at all. We," I point at Fleur and Bill, who just walked in, "can find him, or you might find him. At the end, they will have to be in touch if they want anything at all from us. Once we have any kind of lead, we'll go all wizards on them and liberate him, from anywhere in the world, in a few hours to a day - they won't know what hit them.
"The real issue is that Sirius is an important person. He's Harry's godfather, and you don't realise just how famous a wizard Harry is. Sirius is also Lord Black, and a very prominent member of our Parliament. Non magical people attacking, imprisoning, and hurting him is ground shaking news. It's a declaration of war. Here, in Britain we have some control over things, with Harry and I being war heroes and all that, though the current Minister isn't a fan.
"Now, if it's the Americans, as we suspect, we won't have a choice but to notify our Minister, who will ask questions, and will want to control everything. Then, he won't have a choice but to notify the American Magical Congress, and they will push their noses in and…"
"The whole off-world activities, both ours and the American, will be exposed to wizards, who won't actually understand anything, but will hold themselves entitled to control everything, and are very liberal with Memory Charms," Fleur summarises.
At that moment Harry walks back in. He's all business and suited in Dragonhide. "They took Remus too," he says dejectedly, and throws two wands on the table. One broken, and the other one, Remus's whole.
Oh my God!
"Fleur, Bill, are you ready?" Harry asks.
They are. Dragonhide anoraks and all.
I'm going back to Grimmauld Plc. To meet Kingsley, Tonks and the twins – we'll need all the wands we can get, to cover England fast enough.
I look at the clock – it's half past one in the afternoon already.
Only Four and a half hours now.
"Please explain," R not quite orders me.
"Remus is a Werewolf and tonight is a full moon. If we can't get him out by six, everyone there is dead, or worse. That includes Sirius Black. That international cock-up we are afraid of will be an order of magnitude worse. I need to go and help. Please keep us updated if anything comes out? We'll notify you if we find them first."
Fleur, Bill, and I are off. We have brooms to fly, people to look for, and very little time.
And it started as such a nice day…
AN:
Just a short updated.
I have just finished writing season 4 of this storyline. In which many interesting things will happen, and not all ships will survive.
The storyline to season 5 is ready as well, and will see this story arc to it's conclusion.
Cheers!
Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who takes the time to make sure the story is a much better read.
Also to Dalwolf For doing Brit-Picking for, well - you all, and help my British.
Cheers!