Across the Pale
Prologue
Pinks and Reds shot across the early morning sky, setting the world ablaze with musty fire. Shots of golden light speared through thick emerald branches of an ancient evergreen forest. Dead pine needles blanketed the rich earth. The sound of woodland life echoed through the mountain forest and down the riverbed, which cut a sloping wedge through the majestic mountain range. This river. Slow and wide in places, treacherous and narrow in others, was this isolated region's life force.
In the shallows of a particularly slow stretch stood a large gray ring about six meters tall. Water trickled through the great circle, and lapped lazily at the base of mushroomed pedestal whose glyphs matched that of the ring.
For thousands of years the ring stood quiet and imposing, a silent threat to all who remembered the time when their world was ruled by false gods. But now, with a giant roar and a great spout of water, the Stargate once again awoke. Seconds piled upon each other as the gate stood idle. When suddenly something fast and metallic shot through the rippling ether quickly veering off toward the distant mountains. It twisted and rolled through the rapidly brightening sky. Cameras worked silently to record the rolling greenery beneath it. Both still and video photography captured the primitive huts and farmland as the inhabitants of the valley scattered beneath the probe's mechanical buzz. Screams rose from the usually peaceful landscape, and through the terrified clamor one word could be heard.
"Veniunt!"
They come.
"Hello, Walter." There was a screech of abused wheels as Daniel Jackson hooked an office chair with his foot and sat down at the control desk. His blue eyes watched the computer screen through wire-framed spectacles, a warm coffee mug cradled lovingly in both hands.
"Dr. Jackson." Sergeant Davies' eyes, too, were fixed on the footage pouring through the link with the UAV. "Have a nice weekend, sir?" Walter asked as he hunted through the piles of official looking folders on his desk.
Jackson gave him a thoroughly befuddled look. "It's Monday?" His voice showed his surprise.
The technician smirked into a particularly in-depth report on the Complex's computer network. "Don't worry Dr. J, your secret's safe with me."
There was a long stretch of silence in which both men watched the binary code scroll down the screen.
"Is that from Px4- 882?" Daniel finally asked.
Walter spared the archeologist a quick glance before answering. "Yeah, I'm just formatting it now, sir."
Daniel gave a small grunt of irritation. "Walter," he said disapprovingly, "we've been working together for—what?" He paused just long enough for the other man to formulate an answer before continuing. "Seven—eight years? I think, by now we've established a strong enough working relationship to greet each other colloquially."
Walter looked out the window facing the Stargate. He thought he understood what Dr. Jackson was saying and was almost positive that most of it was English. Sometimes the man talked so it made it hard to tell. "Just a professional courtesy, Daniel." He spoke slowly, trying to sound sufficiently put upon.
Jackson returned the look with one of his own and, having perfected the Hurt Puppy™ look at a very young age, won. "I'm just trying to be friendly…" He pouted realistically.
A loud burst of static told the two men the footage from the UAV had finished configuring and had begun its playback. Blue and green zoomed past on the screen, displaying for the two men a lush temperate landscape. A wide slow river seemed to cut the fertile floodplains in half. Thatch roof huts huddled together in concentric circles. Fields and pastures clung to the riverbanks, thriving due to the nutrient rich soil.
"That's interesting." Daniel leaned forward, setting his coffee mug on the desk with a thunk, hands still wrapped around the warm ceramic. Walter's eyes flicked back toward the archeologist before returning to the screen.
"It's been awhile since we've seen anybody settle this close to the Gate, huh?" The sergeant pushed his glasses upward with his thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The figures on the screen suddenly burst into motion. The panic stricken natives ran through the small streets, their fearful shouts silent as their terror was telegraphed to the two men sitting in the control room, millions of light-years away.
"Do we have audio?" Daniel's voice was low. His apprehension with the situation was clearly evident. The natives had taken to the woods, scattering like water from a shattered glass.
A/N: I'm not too happy with the sentence structure; it's all so similar, I'll try to remedy that in later chapters. If you notice anything that could do with fixing please tell. This prologue has been sitting in my gournal for months and I'm currently working nad Chapter One. The story takes place in Season 8.