Stargate Command (SGC) Cheyenne Mountain

"So how many ships are were looking at here exactly?" Colonel Mitchell asked as he, the General and the rest of SG1 sat around the briefing room table.

"There still appearing" Carter informed "five minutes ago we recorded that there were just fewer than two-hundred and fifty ships".

Mitchell Whistled.

"Any suggestions as to what we should do?" the General enquired at a loss for ideas.

"What about the ancient weapon at Antarctica?" Daniel suggested. For a moment the General looked hopeful.

"What, the device that took out Anubis' fleet?" Mitchell asked.TheColonelremembered it clearly, the beautiful sight of thousands of shooting lights rising up out of the ice shredding the invading fleet to little pieces, at the time he thought that it would be the thing he would ever see.

"I don't think that there are nearly enough drones left to take out all the ships" Carter said flatly, "I believe they should make a dent though".

"I'll get General O'Neill immediately" Landry announced.

Teal'c who had been sitting silently listening to the conversation then added: "I will go to the Jaffa High Council and set about procuring an army in defence of this world".

"Thank you Teal'c" said the General appreciatively.

"What did the President say when you told him?" asked Cameron Mitchell curiously.

"Ask him yourself" Landry replied, "He's on his way over".

Carter and Daniel both raised their eyebrows but neither said anything.

"Coolio" Mitchell exclaimed.

"Well if no one else has any ideas, meeting dismissed. We will be setting up an incident room on level 16". And with that General Landry left.

"Coolio?" Carter questioned as the General's office door closed, a look of puzzlement crossed over her face.

"Yer. What?" he was looking at Carter's expression, in his mind Mitchell admitted tohimself that it was a bizarre thing to say,Sam gave a small smile and left the room heading for her lab. Serious work had to be done.

Home World Security

In his large office somewhere under the Nevada Desert Brigadier General John "Jack" O'Neill was sitting at his desk staring blankly at a stack of sheets of protruding mission reports. He hated paperwork. It was the way of bureaucracy; they were all records that were never going to see the light of day. Those were his beliefs.

O'Neill stared at the scientific jargon that consumed the reams of printed words on the top most sheet of A4 and thought, 'to hell with it!' and sat back in his chair. Stretching and rubbing his eyes his attention caught the sight of the clock on the opposite wall, it was two o'clock in the morning, 'Yikes!' came another thought. Getting up to leave the office in hope of getting some sleep O'Neill crossed the floor and just as he was turning the handle of the door the shrill ringing of the Red Phone started.

"Oh what now!" he muttered under his breath. After four rings he answered.

"General O'Neill." There was a slight pause. "Oh General Landry hi". Jack's tone changed, he had respect for anyone who could successfully run the SGC. When he had been in charge for a whole year he had felt totally like a fish out of water. Landry was definitely no George Hammond but then, so what? No one could be.

"What kind of situation?" concern creped into his voice ever so slightly and his eyes widened with bewilderment when he was told the figures.

"How many?" Jack asked just to check he had heard right.

"Antarctica?" there was a pause then "I will have a plane prepped and ready to go in five minutes General". And with that the conversation was over and Jack replaced the receiver slowly. 'This can not be happening' he thought, it was all like some sick nightmare. Jack stood frozen for a second thinking then quickly picked up the phone receiver again and dialled an extension number.

"Have my plane ready to go. I need to be in McMurdo ASAP. Have a chopper waiting for me there".

Putting the phone down O'Neill left his office.