Two Aliens, A Russian and A Colonel, a stargate: sg-1 fanfic

Title: Two Aliens, A Russian and A Colonel

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Category: Character-driven drama

Rating: K+

Series: A Stargate SGC Story

Season: Season 9 Alternate Reality

Summary: The new SG-1 is born with one very familiar alien back at the SGC.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Author's Note: This is the first story in an alternate reality Season 9.

Two Aliens, A Russian and A Colonel

General Hank Landry couldn't take it anymore. His increasingly pointed glares at Colonel Cameron Mitchell hadn't achieved their purpose. His thick hand shot out to the younger man's hand to his left, immediately silencing the heavy finger drumming on the briefing room table.

With an icy smile he said, "I too hate clichés."

"Sorry, sir," the new leader of SG-1 smiled tightly, then very carefully withdrew his hand from under the general's semi-fist.

The other two people at the table, the Tok'ra woman Neta and the Russian, Major Dima Uricovich, impassively ignored the exchange.

The Stargate klaxons blared suddenly. "Incoming wormhole from the Alpha Site," the control room technician's voice announced.

Cam Mitchell breathed a deep sigh of relief, hoping the Stargate activation meant that the last member of his new team was arriving.

A month ago, Cheyenne Mountain Complex:

Colonel Cameron Mitchell's favorite spot since he'd arrived at the SGC ten days ago was this view of the Stargate through the briefing room window. He'd been down there in the Gate room often since his arrival at Cheyenne Mountain, looking up at the magnificent two-story high piece of alien technology. Since that day over Antarctica, he'd been imagining how it felt to go through an artificial wormhole leading to a planet in another part of their galaxy. The imagery had haunted him all through his recuperation. When he'd been offered his choice of assignments, there had been no hesitation.

Right now he was extremely frustrated that he was still sitting on his hands, waiting for his first-time experience. The new SG-1 couldn't go on its first mission as a one-man team.

"I asked you a question, Colonel. Why don't you wanna fly anymore?" the new commanding officer of the SGC facility asked.

Mitchell went back to the table and sat opposite General Landry. "Because it's too dangerous, sir."

"Very funny," the general said in his highly practiced growl.

The colonel laughed. "The Stargate is a different way to fly. It's close-up adventure that I can't get in a multi-million dollar aircraft. My heroes have always been cowboys,

General, and I want that kind of personal on-the-job contact in my work now."

"Do you know what happens to cowboy heroes?" Landry asked, trying to find out how sincere Mitchell's reasons were. "They die, and not of old age in their beds."

"It's a chance I want to take, to see what I can do out there," the colonel answered in the simplest way he could without sounding trite or superficial. "And it's also why I want these people on my team," Mitchell said pushing three thick personnel folders toward General Landry.

The general picked up the folders and read the name on each cover. Smiling at Mitchell he said, "That epic hero syndrome again."

"It seems to be endemic around here, sir," the colonel said seriously.

Hank Landry sighed resignedly, remembering George Hammond's warning about days like this. "Just what we need, an intellectual smartass."

Three weeks ago, Tok'ra home world:

Neta's pale brown eyes moved from one face to the next as each member of the Council spoke. Beside her, her twin brother Malek held her hand firmly in his. They both knew what the outcome of this meeting would be. She also knew why his grip had increased as they waited for the formal announcement.

Jacob Carter stood up. In his deep Tok'ra voice he said, "If there is no further discussion," and he looked pointedly at the lone dissenting member who graciously inclined his head in submission to the majority, "the Tok'ra Council agrees to Neta and Charlie's requests to join the Tau'ri of Stargate Command as members of SG-1 and Alpha-2 respectively. This arrangement ushers in a new era of mutual respect and cooperation with our staunchest allies."

The other Council members stood up, bowed respectfully and filed out of the room. Jacob's voice and serious demeanor changed as Selmak allowed his host to take over.

He immediately went across the room to the very slender, nervous young man whose happy grin lit up his face. Grabbing Charlie's hand he said, "Congratulations. I can't think of a better person to join a team out of the Alpha Site."

"Thank you for all your support, sir. I have been waiting for this for a long time."

"Relax, Charlie. You're a civilian, not military. Jack O'Neill won't like it if you're always calling him 'sir'."

"I will remember that." He shook Jacob's hand again and hurried out of the room.

Moving to the brother and sister standing nearby, Jacob didn't hesitate to take Neta in his arms. "Of all the Tok'ra, you are the perfect one to join the new SG-1. I know you'll uphold all that both our people stand for." He kissed the petite woman affectionately on the cheek then left the room.

Neta turned to her brother. "Please say it, Malek."

The sadness in his eyes came through in his voice, "That I do not want you to go. That I will miss you every day."

Neta laughed heartily. "And that you will have no one to argue with anymore. I would think you would be glad to be rid of me after all the disagreements we have had since we were children."

"We were bonded at birth as twins, then again when the Tok'ra saved us after our people were massacred by the Goa'uld. You are the best part of me," he said cupping her cheek in his palm. "But you have always been the more adventurous one. Your abilities and knowledge are far beyond mine. I always knew you would leave someday." He reluctantly took his hand away from her cheek. "I know the Tau'ri will take as good care of you as I have," and his sad face broke into a teasing smile. "Despite their on-going arrogance."

Throwing her arms around her brother's neck, Neta said, "You are just jealous because I will not be living in a cave all the time."

Arm in arm and laughing, they left the Council room and headed down the crystal corridor.

Three weeks ago, the Russian Embassy in Washington, D.C.:

General Chekov picked up the glass of tea in its silver filigree holder. After taking a long drink, he put it down then laid his hands flatly on the pile of paperwork in front of him.

Looking up at the young officer sitting stiffly in the chair on the other side of his desk, he asked, "Why, Dima?"

"Sergei Evanov was my mentor and my friend," Major Uricovich answered. Despite the tight discipline and control he was known for, the grief he had felt when the news came more than two years ago of his senior officer's sudden loss so far away from home still hurt. His usual reaction was to allow only a minimal movement in the muscles of his face until the feeling passed.

The general's suspicions about this outstanding officer's motives for volunteering for this high level assignment were many. If a Russian officer was to be a member of the new SG-1, he had to be sure it was the right one. "If you are looking for revenge, the Goa'uld responsible for his death is no more. Most of her fellow System Lords are now either dead or defeated."

His deep blue eyes glittering with confidence in his choice, Dima answered, "I know that, sir. But there are other enemies and other battles out in the stars. I wish to be a part of the new struggle as a member of SG-1."

His skepticism negated by the determination he sensed, General Chekov said proudly, "Spoken like a true hero of Mother Russia." His voice softening into a chuckle, he continued, "When I was told Colonel Mitchell specifically asked for you, I experienced a moment of sweet victory over my old adversary Jack O'Neill."

"The colonel is of the new generation of American military who see beyond the bad old days of the Cold War," Dima said in his precise, composed manner.

"Da," the general said very pleased.

The young officer's tense body leaned forward. "General, I appreciate your delight and, if I may say, gloating, but what is your decision on my request for a transfer to the SGC?"

Resisting the urge to grin, General Chekov said, "When do you wish to leave for Colorado Springs? There is an aircraft at your disposal."

Dima's face gave a deceptively conservative smile. "Thank you, sir."

The last throbs of the klaxons sounded just as Jonas Quinn stepped through the event horizon, his footfalls vibrating on the metal ramp. His hazel eyes took in every inch of the place he'd called home for over a year. He smiled, remembering the journeys that had brought him full circle to this moment in time.

Two weeks ago, the Alpha Site:

Jonas threw another log into the already blazing fireplace. It crackled and sputtered then settled into a steady warmth-producing burn. The winters on the Alpha Site planet made the one he'd experienced during his year in Colorado Springs seem like nothing.

Turning his back to the fire, he sat cross-legged on the thick rug of his living room and faced Jack O'Neill. The general's long frame sprawled casually in the chair he always favored when he visited this house.

"Dr. Carmichael wants to know when you're going to move Cassie onto the base. He's real antsy about her impending due date and that you two might get caught in the big late-season storm that always hits around this time," Jack said in his best general/commanding officer voice.

"We'll be fine. Cassie insists that there's plenty of time before she goes into labor. This is my first time, so I have to rely on her judgment."

"Carmichael isn't gonna like it if he has to give you birthing instructions over the radio."

Jonas lightly touched the spot on his chest where the Ancient healing medallion was concealed under his sweater. Changing the subject he asked, "How's Sam?"

The general rolled his eyes then smiled in that happy-kid way he'd adopted ever since his marriage to the now civilian scientist Samantha Carter. "She's very grumpy. The kid's kicking so much, she swears he's headed for a career as a soccer player."

"I thought you wanted a hockey player?"

Jack grinned. "With the long winters around here, he'll have to learn a second sport or go nuts with boredom. Right?"

Both men laughed. Just as suddenly, the lighthearted tone was gone and the general asked, "Why are you doing this, Jonas?"

In the soft voice Jonas always used when he spoke of his wife, he explained, "Because Cassie made me a promise before we were married, and moving back to Earth is the only way she's going to be able to keep it."

"That doctor thing," Jack said simply. It was going on two years but they all still missed their Doc Fraiser. Cassie following in her adopted mother's footsteps was the way she and all of them wanted to keep Janet alive.

Taking another tack, Jack said, "I need you here."

"You have Daniel."

"Not the same," Jack said emphatically. Jonas' lack of a comeback produced an annoyed exhale. "A Tok'ra and a Russian. Mitchell must be totally nuts."

Pointing to himself, Jonas gave a little laugh, "Don't forget me."

"Two thirds nuts then," Jack grumbled. His patience had reached its limit at the continuing calm responses he was getting from the base's highly respected Socio-Political Advisor. Finally, he said harshly, "Mitchell's just a hot shot jet jockey! He doesn't know squat about ground tactics! He's a virgin, for crine out loud!"

His expression changing into a serious, steady gaze, Jonas said, "That's the other reason I want this assignment. I can help him with that. I learned from the best, remember?"

Jonas watched his friend's face carefully as he realized why this tough old airman was being so stubborn about his volunteering for reassignment to the new SG-1. "You're afraid he's going to get me killed."

Jack blanched at the gentle understanding in the younger man's voice. They'd almost lost Jonas several months ago. He'd almost lost all four of his SG-1 kids last year to an enemy that had vanished as suddenly as they'd appeared. The memories of that anguish still showed up in his nightmares on a regular basis. "We need to stay together. What's out there isn't gone, Jonas."

"I know," Jonas said simply. Jack's unexpected silence gave him the chance to continue with the words he knew he had to say. "I feel I can protect all of us better from the SGC, working with Mitchell and the new SG-1. The risks I take in doing what I do are unavoidable. It's also who I am. I can't and won't change that."

When Jack looked away to hide the deep emotions this conversation had dredged up, Jonas said softly, "You can't protect all of us forever, Jack."

His voice bordering on unsteady, Jack O'Neill answered, "I can try."

As a sleepy-eyed Cassie came into the room, Jonas stood up and went to her. Putting his arms protectively around her, he pulled her close to his side.

Jack stood up and faced both of them. "Think about what I said," and he looked directly at Jonas.

"Did I interrupt your conversation, Uncle Jack?"

"No, honey. I was just telling your husband that Dr. Carmichael's worried about you and the weather and that baby of yours. He wants you to come into the base ASAP."

"We're almost finished closing up the house before Jonas leaves for Earth. I know they want him there now."

Kissing his petite wife on top of her head, Jonas said, "I'm not going anywhere until our baby is safely here. They can wait."

After putting on his coat, Jack leaned down and kissed Cassie on the cheek. "I'm gonna miss you guys. I was really looking forward to all our kids growing up together," he said tightly. He took Jonas' hand firmly in his then hastily went out the front door into the cold afternoon air.

Cam Mitchell exhaled the bated breath he'd been holding when he saw Jonas Quinn's head appear as he came up the staircase from the Gate room.

General Landry stood up and extended his hand to Jonas. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Quinn."

"It's Jonas, sir," and he shook the general's hand. Turning to Mitchell, Jonas said, "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Colonel. Being back with SG-1 is very special to me."

Mitchell took Jonas' offered hand and shook it strongly. "My friends call me Cam."

Jonas made his way around the table to Neta who stood up as he approached. Hugging the Tok'ra woman warmly, he said, "When we met last year I never expected to be sharing Stargate adventures with you."

Neta returned the hug affectionately, remembering the part she and Jacob had played in healing this young man's horribly ravaged body that had been so near death. "Life is quite unpredictable, Jonas Quinn. On behalf of all the Tok'ra, I congratulate you and Cassandra on the birth of your daughter."

"Yes, congratulations," Landry and Mitchell added in tandem.

"Servo kharosheva!" Major Uricovich added.

("All the best.")

"Spasiba, Major. Ya shyaslivy u est vy moy tavarish," Jonas said.

("Thank you, Major. I'm happy to have you as my teammate.")

"Your Russian is excellent, Mr. Quinn."

"Please call me Jonas. My father-in-law was kind enough to give me a crash course in your language. It should come in handy in our work – Dima?"

The tall, muscular Russian stood up and held out his hand to Jonas.

The greetings finally over, Jonas took the empty chair beside Mitchell.

General Landry looked from one to the other along the table. "I congratulate the four of you on being chosen as the new SG-1. Whether you become as good a team as your predecessors, namely the best of the best, is up to you."

Each new member of SG-1 responded in his or her own unique way.

Neta gave the general a wisp of a Mona Lisa smile.

Dima nodded deeply to him.

Jonas smiled then turned to Mitchell. "What's our first mission, Cam?"

Colonel Cameron Mitchell's pale blue eyes gave each member of his team a long intent look. "With all due respect, General, we'll be able to answer that team thing for you in about eight years," and he smiled.