So… it's been a while, huh? Sorry about that… it's not that I've forgotten this story — quite the opposite, actually. All I've been writing is this story (with the exception of the SG1 two-shot I posted a couple months ago)… just not in the right order. I've got several chapters for later in this story (as well as the later stories in this series) that are already completed as well as lots and lots of half-written bits and pieces and plots and such. It's all very messy.

But, I promised myself I'd get the next chapter up before the end of the year and look at that! I have! Yay!

Next goal: finish all of the Rising chapters by the end of January.

Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Feedback is awesome!

—

"And so the adventure begins." — Unknown

—

Traveling through the Stargate felt a bit like riding an underwater roller coaster.

It wasn't necessarily painful, but certainly was a shock to the system. It seemed to last forever yet take no time at all to step through the other side of the gate. I barely managed to keep from tripping or stumbling over my feet as I moved almost blindly, vertigo causing the world to spin dangerously. Two steps later, the feeling vanished, and I blinked, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling in my stomach as my eyes adjusted to the darkness around me.

Or maybe it wasn't so dark after all.

A series of lights came to life along the walls, and I immediately looked around, taking in my surroundings.

It was a large room — definitely bigger than the gateroom at the SGC, and much more pleasant looking. While the SGC rocked the "top secret military underground bunker" look, this had a more "modern minimalist" vibe.

Which, while accurate, probably sounded a bit pretentious.

But there was no doubting that it looked good. Beautiful, even. Marble and granite-like stones of varying shades of browns, blues and greens covered the entire room in patterns of geometric shapes, the finer detailing made from several different metals and crystals. Despite the darkness, the entire room had a very airy, open, almost relaxing feeling — as if the room was trying to tell you to kick your shoes off and call it a day.

I couldn't imagine what it'd feel like in daylight.

A large staircase stood just in front of the gate, leading up to a second level, which had balconies winding along the walls on either side. Beyond them were rooms that I couldn't make out. On the same level as the gate, two corridors led off in different directions on the left side of the gate, with the same reflected on the right.

"…secure the immediate area," Colonel Sumner was saying, the security teams immediately breaking up and beginning to explore the space, flashlights shining across every possible surface along the way.

Instantly, I checked myself. I had a job to do.

Readjusting my weapon against my shoulder, I passed Major Sheppard, who was standing in the middle of the room looking around in awe, and veered left and into the first corridor, indicating that Corporal Cutshall and Sergeant Smith should follow with a soft whistle and jerk of my head.

Smith practically glided on his feet as he passed me, not even bothering to check if I was okay with him taking point. I frowned, but didn't say anything. Not the moment for a battle of wills.

Cutshall took our six, looking around with an almost bored expression on his face, despite the tense line of his shoulders and slow, steady swivel of his head.

Lights flicked on as we began to explore the empty corridors. We hadn't gone far before we came to a door that was the same dark brown color of the walls, except for the two stained glass windows that sat at eye level. Smith passed it easily, but as I approached they slid open with a soft hiss of air.

"Wait," I whispered, stepping closer to the doorway and aiming my flashlight along the floor and walls, only for the lights to blink on a second later, revealing a small room that couldn't fit more than two or three people.

"What?" Smith asked, doubling back to see.

I felt my cheeks warm and shook my head. "Never mind. It's just a closet."

Smith looked as though he wanted to say something, but was cut off by the crackle of the radio. "Security teams, any alien contact?" Sumner asked, his voice barely understandable through the background static of chatter and movement.

"Negative, sir," someone immediately replied.

I tapped my radio, eyes on Smith, silently daring him to speak first. "Team four, negative, Colonel." Smith just shook his head and continued on, and I repressed a victorious smile before following.

It's the little things.

The corridor twisted right, then widened to reveal a metal staircase leading downward. Smith looked back at me and pointed at it, eyebrows raised in a silent question. I nodded, and he immediately began climbing down the steps. I gestured for Cutshall to follow him, while I took over the rear.

I winced as their boots clanged against the metal grates of the stairs, which echoed loudly no matter how carefully they stepped. Just as I started to follow, I noticed a door open in the corner, revealing a narrow stairwell — which strangely stayed dark — leading upwards rather than downwards.

I hesitated, deciding whether or not I wanted to satisfy my curiosity and explore this new route or to follow my new teammates.

Or I could call them back…

I pushed the thought away. As much as I didn't want to be exploring a dark, unknown alien city by myself, I really didn't want to be exploring it with Smith and Cutshall. Better to just send them on their way and let Smith boss Cutshall around. I'd stay close — never too far away to offer assistance if needed, but enough to avoid having to interact with them.

They probably wouldn't even notice I was gone anyway.

Quietly I took the stairs, heart hammering at my recklessness. It hadn't even been five minutes and I was already doing exactly what got idiot nobody redshirts like me killed.

And yet I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I climbed the stairs two at a time, as if going faster would lessen the danger. Though after a single flight, the stairs came to a end, another door silently opening as I approached. I stepped through without thinking and found myself in a small corner of the gateroom's second level, judging my the soft reflecting blue light of the open wormhole against the walls. To my right stood a line of dark brown panels and one of the balconies that overlooked the Stargate. To my left was the top of the main staircase, and beyond that an area full of consoles that were already being examined by a handful of scientists.

I stepped out onto the balcony, looking down at all of the personnel and equipment below, people still popping out of the gate every few seconds. The room was filling up fast, but everything seemed to be going smoothly. Relatively speaking.

By the way Colonel Sumner was ordering personnel around, I figured he would rather be herding cats.

Finally, a single marine emerged from the event horizon and gave Sumner a thumbs up. Everyone was through.

Dr. Weir turned around and picked up her radio, her voice shaky with excitement as she spoke into it. "General O'Neill? Atlantis base offers greetings from the Pegasus Galaxy. You may cut power to the gate."

Something small came through the gate just before it powered down, slowly rolling on the floor until it came to a rest at Dr. Weir's feet. She picked it up and I realized it was a bottle of champagne.

Well then.

I looked around the room once more, suddenly much darker and more terrifying without the glow of the open gate.

Now we were all on our own.

00000000000000000000000000000000000

Once the gate shut down, things really began to kick into gear.

I'd spent weeks worrying about actually leaving Earth, and the giant unknown that awaited us that I'd never really thought about what I was going to do once I actually confronted it. And now I was confronting it.

It was a bit anti-climactic, really.

We were obviously in a base of some kind — it was too early to tell if it was actually a city — and according to several of the scientists it was definitely built by the Ancients. One had been going on about the symbols written in Ancient on the main staircase — a welcome and pledge of peace to visitors from other worlds — which was comforting in a way. It certainly sounded like the race of people I'd heard so much about in the "Beginners Guide to Ancient History" briefing at the SGC: an advanced civilization of more evolved humans who were champions of peace and free will among the 'lesser beings' of the Milky Way galaxy.

Although things could be drastically different in Pegasus.

But all signs pointed to us having actually found The Lost City of Atlantis. Which was great and all, if it hadn't been completely abandoned. Or so it seemed. That was the best case scenario.

I didn't want to think about the worst case.

Regardless, we wasted no time in beginning our exploration of the city. Sumner ordered the security teams to start clearing sections of the city, with teams of scientists following to make sure anything technological wasn't about to blow us all up.

Or something of the sort.

I'd been reunited with the lovely Sergeant Smith and Corporal Cutshall (they hadn't even noticed that I'd wandered off) and placed in charge of two scientists — a Canadian engineer named Dr. Tate and Dr. Valderrama, a Spanish physicist — who were practically wetting their pants in excitement.

Smith barely glanced at them before stomping off, heading up the nearest staircase, Cutshall at his heels. At least Cutshall had the decency to nod respectfully at the two scientists, though they were too distracted to notice. I had to grit my teeth because I'd been left behind to usher the scientists along by myself, mentally punching Smith's already squashed nose in revenge.

Tate and Valderrama chattered away as we walked, completely oblivious to my commands unless I waved my arm broadly in their field of vision first. After about five minutes of this, we entered a room much bigger than any we'd seen before.

The lights flicked on as we entered, revealing a room that was a large as the gate room — two levels high and its walls formed a large hexagon. Against five of the walls sat a mini-van sized oblong… thing, with a second one parked above each one on the second level. Ten total.

"They look like ships. Spaceships!" Tate exclaimed.

I walked around them, clearing the room quickly before taking a closer look. Could they really be spaceships?

They had to be — each one had a window that showed what looked like a cockpit and a small cabin behind it. I ran my fingers along its side as I walked around to the back, freezing when the hatchback opened, lowering to the ground to form a ramp.

"Whoa! How'd you do that?!" Valderrama asked, coming around the other side of the ship with Tate at his side.

"I have no idea," I said, looking back at the side where I'd run my fingers and wondering if there was a hidden button I'd accidentally pressed. Mentally, I chastised myself for making another idiotic mistake — touching things before the scientists cleared it. They were the brains; it was best to let them use 'em.

Perhaps I needed a 'Rules of Gate Travel' list or something.

"D'you have the ATA gene?" Tate asked, bringing me out of my reverie as he walked up the ramp and into the back of the ship without hesitation.

Cautiously, I followed, taking every inch of the ship I could see, just waiting for something to jump out at us. "Yeah, I've got the gene."

Tate gasped. "That must be it! You probably have to have the gene to fly this thing. It makes sense, really… the perfect anti-theft protection…"

Valderrama nudged me from behind. "Go on then, see if you can fly it!"

I hesitated. "I dunno, we should probably keep going, make sure the rest of this level is secure…" I trailed off lamely. Truthfully, my fingers were itching to touch the controls, to see if it really worked. The prospect of actually getting to fly something hadn't even crossed my mind when I'd decided to join the expedition.

"Oh, come on. You're Air Force, aren't you? At least see if you can start it up!" Valderrama pleaded, nudging me again.

"Just because I'm Air Force doesn't mean I'm a pilot!" I protested.

Valderrama's expression was challenging. "Well, then what are you?"

My shoulders slumped. "A pilot," I grumbled.

Tate clapped his hands together cheerily. "Then what are you waiting for? It's a spaceship, for cryin' out loud!"

For a moment alarm bells rang internally, reminding me that taking risks was more than a bit stupid at this point, but they were easily overpowered by the familiar tug in my gut that drew me to flying fighter jets in the first place.

And how often does one get the chance to fly a real spaceship anyway? It'd be a shame to pass up that kind of opportunity.

"Fine," I huffed, pretending to be more reluctant than I was. I easily slid into the pilot's seat, eyeing the controls as I settled in. "You're also assuming that I can even figure out how to turn this thing on. I don't read Ancient, and these controls look nothing like what's on anything I've ever flown."

"Just think 'on.'" Valderrama slid into the co-pilot's chair with a giant grin on his face.

I stared at him. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"There's a mental component to some types of Ancient tech," Valderrama said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Didn't you go to the briefing?"

Did they mean the six hour one that required at least ten more years of education than I had and a dictionary to understand?

I bit my lip. "I must've missed that bit." I turned back to the controls and placed my hands on them. "Uh, on?" I said, and after nothing happened I glanced back at Valderrama and Tate.

"Concentrate," Tate encouraged. "Try closing your eyes or something."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, but did as he suggested, inhaling deeply and focusing on my hands linked to the ship. *On.* I thought firmly. *Turn on.*

The controls suddenly warmed beneath my fingers and I felt a flash of something in my mind, but it was impossible to tell what it was. Tate and Valderrama gasped loudly, and I opened my eyes to see that the entire control panel had lit up, like everything else we'd encountered so far. "Whoa," I whispered.

If this is what having the ATA gene could do, then so far, joining the expedition was totally worth it.

"This is so cool," Tate practically gushed. "Can you fly it?"

The alarm bells inside my head were ringing even louder than before. Nope. Not a good idea. Quit while you're ahead, Billie.

I really needed to make up some rules for gate travel.

Reluctantly, I removed my hands and the lights switched off, the warmth in my fingers instantly dissipating and leaving me with goosebumps. "No, we need to keep moving. There are much more important things to worry about first before we start messing around with spaceships and such. We'll worry about flying it once you scientists have given them a once over and deemed them safe to fly," I said sternly, swiveling my chair around and standing up, ignoring the matching hurt and disappointed looks Tate and Valderrama were shooting me. "Come on, let's go. We'll report back to the higher ups with what we've found once we're done clearing the rest of this level."

Reluctantly, the two scientists followed, and I ran my fingers over the side of the ship again, thinking *Close.* The hatchback began to shut and I smiled.

It was pretty freakin' cool.

Maybe Atlantis wasn't so dangerous after all.

Suddenly, Sumner's voice crackled through the radio, and I felt my heart sink. "All security teams, fall back to the gate room."

Or not.

Let the adventures begin.

00000000000000000000000000000000000

The moment we returned to the gate room, Lieutenant Ford waved me into a nearby room, his expression grim. Leaving Tate and Valderrama to fend for themselves, I hurried over, where a handful of men — Ford, standing next to Lieutenant Miller and Sergeants Bates, Smith, Parker and the very young looking Stackhouse and Markham — were gathered around a box of weaponry tucked safely in a corner near the door. "What's up?" I asked Ford, stomach churning.

"The city is underwater and the shield is failing."

So it really was the city of Atlantis. I glanced around with a new sense of wonder. It was hard to believe… wait. Did he just say underwater?

I snapped my attention back to the Colonel, who had just walked up. "We don't have the power we need to keep the shield running, so we're going offworld to procure another power source or find safe harbor," Colonel Sumner said. "Lieutenant Miller, you're in command," he said, addressing a slim blonde airman who looked a bit like a Ken doll. Miller nodded curtly in response and moved off to talk to Corporal Cutshall, who was sulking in the corner — though I couldn't tell whether he was upset about being left behind or if sulking was just his normal state.

"Gear up, we're leaving in two minutes." Sumner eyed us all critically, his gaze lingering on me a beat longer than the others.

I straightened and nodded, not breaking eye contact. "Yes, sir," I said with as much strength as I could muster, shoving down the ever-increasing feeling of panic that was building in my chest. Without responding, Sumner readjusted his cap and turned away to give Miller last minute instructions.

Whistling softly, I caught Ford's eye, who merely shrugged and held out a couple of spare clips. I took them and stuffed them into the pocket in my tac vest that was the least packed with supplies.

"Simmons," a gruff voice said, and I turned to see Sergeant Smith holding out a pair of infrared goggles. I took them with a nod and watched as Bates handed Smith and a bewildered Stackhouse a couple of bazookas.

I quirked my eyebrow. "Bazookas? Really?"

Ford chuckled. "Better to be safe than sorry, Simmons."

"Time's up. Let's get a move on," Sumner called from the doorway, and I fell in line as he led the way to the gate, ending up in the rear next to Parker.

Parker was slightly taller than Smith, although much leaner and significantly more laid back. I'd had several pleasant, albeit short, conversations with him at the SGC. He smiled politely as I fell into step beside him. "Lieutenant," he said with a light accent that I couldn't place. I made a mental note to ask him about it when we returned.

If we returned.

The gate was open when we entered the room, and I forced myself not to gape at it as we approached. It was hard not to, the gate was beautiful — it didn't look like Earth's gate, more like a different, almost newer, model. It just didn't feel as ancient as the Earth gate did.

We came to a stop just before the event horizon, and I noticed Peter Grodin standing next to Sumner, fingers tapping away on a device in his hands. "The MALP reads full viability and no immediate signs of activity around the Stargate, but it's pitch black." Without a word I pulled out the infrared goggles Smith had given me and put them on while Grodin continued. "For now, we're going to use the tried and true system for identification of inbound gate travelers," he said, passing around the GDOs we'd been taught to use at the SGC.

I snickered to myself as I strapped it around my wrist. The fact that GDO stood for Garage Door Opener still cracked me up.

"Let's move out!" Sumner called. I looked up to see that Major Sheppard had joined us, much to Sumner's obvious displeasure.

Grodin caught my eye as I moved to follow the others through the gate. "Good luck," he said sincerely.

"Thanks," I replied, heart thumping as I slid my goggles on and braced myself before stepping through the event horizon.

We were probably going to need it.