Stargate Genesis
Episode 8
"Legacy Janus"
"You're sure this is the place?" asked Cameron. He raised an eyebrow and looked around.
SG-1 stood on a hilltop overlooking the city of Spokane Valley, Washington. There were a few huge metamorphic rock structures exposed on the hillside, but there seemed to be nothing that would be of interest to a Stargate team. Someone had spray painted a blue and green lizard on one of the rock outcroppings, next to where someone else had painted "J+E" inside a heart shape.
"The glyphs on P7X-224 suggested that the laboratory would be here," said Danesh.
"See if you can find anything that looks like early Salish markings," said Daniel, inspecting the nearest boulder. It was normally impossible to pull Daniel away from Atlantis, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to discover one of the Ancient scientist Janus's lost laboratories. Of all the Ancient Lanteans Daniel had learned about from the database on Atlantis, Janus was by far the most compelling.
"Because we know what that looks like," grumbled Greer.
"The Spokane Tribe spoke a form of Salish," explained Daniel. "The Salish language originally had no orthography, so the glyphs on P7X-224 were written in Goa'uld characters, but the only translation which made sense was a Salish one. What we are looking for are symbols suggestive of Native American mythology."
"Didn't the original SG-1 team go to a planet where the inhabitants spoke Salish?" asked Jessica.
"Yes," said Daniel. "We visited PXY-887 in 1998, one year after the Stargate program was restarted. But after our encounter with the people there, they buried their gate."
"The people of P7X-224 most likely share a common ancestry with them," said Danesh.
"Yes, but the two groups diverged pretty significantly after they left Earth," said Daniel. "The people of PXY-887 still practiced a form of their original Native American culture when we got there."
"Whereas the people on P7X-224 left behind cultural artifacts from several Earth civilizations," said Danesh.
"Yes," agreed Daniel. "Before they were wiped out, they must have been integrated with other groups of people by whatever system lord they served. It didn't stop them from leaving behind old legends and hidden messages about where they came from, though."
"Daniel!" shouted Greer, who had wandered over to one of the rocks further up the hill. "I think I found something!"
The team walked over to Greer and looked at the face of the rock next to him. Etched into the surface was the clear shape of a coyote.
"Think this is important?" asked Greer.
"Probably just something local kids did," said Cameron.
"I disagree, Colonel Mitchell," said Danesh. "Judging from the wear, this carving could be incredibly old."
"The coyote is an important figure in Salish folklore," said Daniel. "He was a trickster and a deceiver."
"The glyphs on P7X-224 refer to a coyote," said Danesh. "The description we found called him an 'inventor.'"
Daniel fumbled in his jacket, pulling a small tablet out and putting his glasses on to better see it. He opened a document with pictures of the glyphs and scrolled through them until he found the right one.
"When the coyote needs to build new tools to better trick the various animals, he will stand before the image of himself and announce his return," translated Daniel.
"Sounds easy enough," said Cameron, stepping forward to stand directly in front of the carving of the coyote. "The coyote has returned."
Nothing happened.
"Maybe try 'Janus' instead of 'coyote,'" suggested Jessica. "That was his Lantean name, right?"
Cameron cleared his throat. "Janus has returned," he said.
Greer checked his watch and rolled his eyes. Daniel pushed his glasses up on his nose and furrowed his brow in concentration.
"Any more bright ideas?" asked Cameron.
"Doesn't most ancient technology require the ATA gene to operate?" asked Jessica.
"Cameron has it," said Daniel, flipping through more images on the tablet in his hand. "Every new SG team member's initial medical exam includes ATA gene therapy."
"Perhaps we should consider linguistic differences between the Salish language and your own," said Danesh. "My brief study of the language group suggested certain pragmatic differences. For example, statements in Salish do not require any implication regarding the listener's knowledge. Only the speaker's knowledge is considered."
"So if he were speaking Salish," interrupted Daniel, "he wouldn't say 'Janus has returned.' Since he already knows his own identity, he would just say 'I have returned.'"
Nothing happened. Jessica, Danesh, Greer, and Cameron looked at Daniel expectantly.
"Well obviously he wouldn't say it in English," said Daniel. He stepped forward next to Cameron and looked at the symbol of the coyote.
"This isn't an exact translation, but here we go:" he said, "čn lʔe."
Aaron Grimes watched from from a vantage point a a hundred meters away as Daniel Jackson and SG-1 vanished into thin air.
~~00~~
One month earlier:
Taking a break from hiking to drink from his water bottle, Aaron sat down on a small rock and looked out across the valley. Spokane Valley was more or less a glorified suburb of Spokane, but it was technically its own city, and for Aaron it was home. Though his grandmother was a full-blood Native American of the Spokane Tribe and one of the last remaining native speakers of the Spokane-Kalispel dialect of Salish, his European ancestry dominated his appearance. None of the neighbors in his mostly-white neighborhood could guess that he was 1/8th Native American.
Aaron stood up and walked over to one of the large metamorphic rock outcroppings that dotted the hillside. He knelt down and found the place on the rock where he and his high school girlfriend had written their names with spray paint. The names were faded from years of wear, but he could still make them out. Further up the rock was the carving of a coyote that had been there for as long as he could remember. Back when he was in school, Aaron would hike up these hills with his friends every summer. It had been years since he'd taken the time to climb to this vantage point. Over time he had stopped talking to the friends he had known in high school; he retreated into his own private world of imagination and science fiction. He worked a bleak office job, and only spoke to his co-workers when it was necessary. Everyday after work he went home and sat in his apartment, daydreaming about space and cursing his fortune for being born too early in human history to be able to explore the stars.
It had been a sudden unexplained wave of nostalgia that morning that inspired Aaron to leave his apartment on a Saturday and hike to the site of long-past adolescent memories. Standing up, he took in the beautiful summer day and sighed. He remembered what his grandma said about living simply and being present in every moment. "I am here," she would always say. She thought it was important for her children and grandchildren to learn some of her ancient language, so she would repeat it in the tongue of the Spokane people. Though he cared little for history, or the culture his grandmother was so proud of, he let that early morning nostalgia humor her memory with an utterance of Salish.
"čn lʔe," he said, before vanishing.
~~00~~
The lights of the laboratory lit up in response to Aaron's arrival. He dropped his water bottle on the floor and the sound echoed through the room. Around him were terminals and workstations that looked like something out of Farscape. Everything was lit with blue tinted lights that gave the place an aquatic feeling.
"Hello?" he called out hopefully.
Suddenly a woman appeared in front of him. She was wearing a silk robe and was looking at something just to the right of where Aaron was standing.
"Welcome back, Janus," said the woman, smiling warmly. "It has been nine-thousand two-hundred and thirty-seven years, five months, and eleven days since your last visit."
Aaron stared at the woman, who was still looking at empty air.
"Can you see me?" he asked.
"Would you like me to review the experiments you performed during your last visit?" she asked, unmoving.
Aaron reached out to touch the woman, but his hand went right through her. She shimmered and pixelated where his hand met her arm. He pulled his hand back and looked at her, eyes wide.
"What are you?" he asked.
"I am the interface program you designed for the database of this research facility," she said. "My name is Faren."
"I must have forgotten," said Aaron, looking around the laboratory. This is so cool, he thought.
"My purpose is to maintain your records and knowledge," said Faren. "I will answer any inquiries you have to the best of my ability."
Aaron walked over to a bench where he saw a device that looked like a bracelet. It was made of dark steel with shallow depressed lines in the shape of a glyph on its face.
"What is this?" he asked.
"The device you refer to is your latest invention," said Faren. "It attaches to the user's wrist. Using the user's DNA and information available from the user's surroundings, it predicts probable futures."
As he reached for the device, she spoke again.
"During your last visit, you noted that the device was unfinished, and not ready for testing," she said.
"Is it safe?" asked Aaron.
"I could not say," responded the holographic interface program.
"Only one way to find out," said Aaron, picking up the device. As he set it on his wrist, it clamped shut. He felt a dozen tiny pinpricks on his wrist, and saw the depressed lines on the face of the device glow blue. Aaron pulled at the clasp on the bracelet, but it did not budge.
"The device has bonded itself to your arm on a molecular level," said Faren. "You have recorded no instructions on how to safely remove it."
~~00~~
Aaron grunted with effort as he brought the hammer down on the wrist device once again. The device was unscathed. Frustrated, he threw the hammer onto the workbench in front of him and cursed. He was sitting in his dad's workshop, surrounded by tools that couldn't even dent the Ancient wristband.
"There is a 0.0000016% chance that continuing your current activity will destroy this unit," came the robotic voice of the device. "There is a 99.67% chance that you will die if this unit is destroyed. This unit has been integrated into your central nervous system."
"Would you shut up?" said Aaron, covering the device with his other hand in an attempt to muffle its sound. "Someone might hear you!"
"Switching to telepathic communication," declared the device.
[There is a 12.83% chance a passerby heard this unit's audio output. There is a 0.166% chance of further investigation by passerby.]
"I'm sorry I accidentally found that freaky alien lab," said Aaron. "I just want this thing off my arm. How do I get it off?"
[Calculating possible futures…]
"Oh, can it," said Aaron. He stood up and looked around for anything else that could help remove the device. He couldn't risk going to a hospital with the device still stuck to his arm. He knew how the government handled alien stuff; he had seen E.T.
"Isn't there an eject button or something?" he muttered.
[If you chose to remove this unit, your body will suffer catastrophic nerve damage. This unit predicts a 99.67% chance of death as a result.]
"It's only been on my arm for an hour!" shouted Aaron. "Just get it off!"
[Safety override accepted.]
The device suddenly popped open and fell off Aaron's arm onto the floor. He smiled and rubbed the area of his forearm that had been covered by the device.
"Finally!" he said, right before an unbearable pain erupted from his forearm, despite there being no visible injury. Aaron felt tears coming from his eyes, but when a drop of blood fell from his face onto his shirt, he realized that he wasn't crying at all. Within seconds, blood began to seep from the pores of his skin.
Before long Aaron Grimes lost consciousness and slumped to the floor, where he bled to death. Later that day a man in an Air Force uniform appeared on the scene to collect the Ancient device and the unrecognizable corpse attached to it. A convincing latex mannequin duplicate was provided for the funeral.
~~00~~
"I'm sorry I accidentally found that freaky alien lab," said Aaron. "I just want this thing off my arm. How do I get it off?"
[Calculating possible futures…]
"Oh God," said Aaron. "Was that… the future? Did you show me the future?"
[The function of this unit is to predict probable futures based on available data. What you just witnessed was the most likely future, based on your previous actions and hormone levels. The recommendation of this unit is that you alter your course to avoid this future.]
When the device had latched onto his arm in the lab, he had panicked. He began to think of ways to pry the device off his arm, and he found himself teleported out of the lab, back to the hillside where he had taken a break from his hike. Without stopping to think about what the device on his arm was, he had run down the hill, gotten in his car, and drove to his parent's house, which was closer than his apartment. He had seen Alien; he knew no good could come of having anything extraterrestrial inside of you. Aaron had always been prone to panic attacks, but this was a whole new level of panic.
Standing in his dad's workshop having just witnessed his own death, he stopped to consider for the first time what was actually attached to his wrist.
"You can tell me any probability?" he asked.
[This device is designed to predict probable futures based on data available. The accuracy of this device's predictions increases with an increased volume of data.]
"Do you have an ethernet port?" said Aaron.
~~00~~
[Accessing all discernable wireless frequencies.]
Aaron watched as the design on the front of the wrist device dimmed to an almost imperceptible shade of dark blue against the black surface of the device. After a few moments it lit back up.
[All available data processed. The accuracy of this unit's predictions has increased by 567.12%.]
"Ok. Let's test you out. What's the next winning Washington Lottery number?" asked Aaron.
[This unit predicts there is a 99.997% chance that the winning lottery number will be 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42.]
"Damn. What's something else…. is there sentient life on other worlds?"
[There is a 100% probability that sentient life exists on other worlds.]
Aaron put his hands on his head and paced back and forth in the shop.
"I knew it! I knew it!" he said, grinning. He wasn't born too early after all. He stopped pacing as an idea dawned on him. "I wonder… what is the best way to get to another inhabited world?"
[This unit predicts that the most efficient means of transportation to other populated worlds is via a Stargate.]
"Tell me about this Stargate," said Aaron.
[Calculating possible futures…]
~~00~~
Present Day:
SG-1 appeared in Janus' laboratory. The blue lighting scheme Daniel recognized from Atlantis activated, and a hologram of a woman appeared in front of them.
"...Hello," said Daniel, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
The woman was wearing a silk robe and smiled warmly.
"Welcome back, Janus," she said. "It has been three weeks and two days since your last visit."
"Well, that's odd," said Daniel. "And who are you?"
"I am the interface program you designed for the database of this research facility," she said. "My name is Faren."
Cameron nodded at Greer and Jessica, and the three of them spread out, checking the facility.
"What is this place?" asked Danesh.
"This is the research facility you use to test your new inventions," explained Faren.
"Janus must have come here after Atlantis was evacuated," mused Daniel. "The people of P7X-224 referred to him as the Coyote, so he must have been pretending to be a spirit to explain his advanced technology."
"But why here?" asked Danesh. "There is no evidence of any other Ancient settlements in this area."
"He would have wanted to keep his work secret from the other Ancients," said Daniel. "I'm guessing they never knew about this place. Janus must have thought no one else would even try to get in."
"At least no one without the ATA gene," said Cameron, returning from his sweep. "Which the locals wouldn't have had."
"All clear," said Greer, returning to the center of the room with Jessica.
"So you think that we are Janus," said Danesh, looking at the hologram of Faren.
"Your last visit was three weeks and two days ago," said Faren. "If you have further questions, I will answer them to the best of my ability."
"Who exactly is this Janus guy again?" asked Greer.
"Perhaps I could introduce myself," said a voice behind them.
Daniel Jackson and SG-1 turned around to see a man wearing Ancient robes similar to the ones Faren had. There was a sleek black device on his left wrist with glowing blue lines forming a pattern on the surface.
"Welcome to my laboratory," said the man. "My name is Janus."
~~00~~
"You can't be Janus," said Daniel. "Janus is dead."
"And yet here I am," said Janus.
"Has anyone here ever met Janus before?" asked Greer, who had trained his P90 on the man as soon as he appeared.
"The only person I know who ever actually met him was Elizabeth Weir," said Daniel. "But she died several years ago."
"Then he could be telling the truth," said Danesh.
"I don't see how," said Daniel. "The Ancients lived so long ago that there couldn't be any left, at least any that didn't ascend, unless they were frozen in stasis-"
"Brilliant, doctor," said Janus. He gestured toward the stasis pod at the far end of the laboratory.
"He's right, Daniel," said Jessica. "The stasis pod looks like it's been used recently."
Daniel looked at the pod, then back at Janus.
"Why now?" he asked. "If you've been here all this time, why wait until now to contact us?"
"We sure could have used your help fighting off the Ori," said Cameron.
"And the Goa'uld," added Danesh.
"It's simple," explained Janus. "I was waiting for you to discover me here. And now that you have, I'd like to join SG-1."
~~00~~
Daniel and Cameron appeared on the hillside above Janus' laboratory, next to the rock outcropping with the Coyote carving. They walked a few meters up the hill, and then Cameron dialed a number on his cell phone and set it to speaker.
"How's it going, Cam?" came Sam's voice.
"We found the lab," said Daniel. "And something else."
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well, there is someone down there claiming to be Janus himself," said Daniel.
"Greer, Warren, and Danesh are keeping an eye on him," said Cameron.
"How could he still be alive?" asked Sam.
"He says he's been riding out the millennia in a stasis pod, coming up every once in awhile to stir up superstition among the locals," explained Cameron.
"Do you think he's telling the truth?" asked Sam.
"There is a stasis pod in the lab," said Daniel. "And it's been used recently."
"He seemed to know we were coming, Sam," said Cameron. "He's wearing a device on his wrist that he says predicts probable outcomes."
"Well, no matter who he is, if he has Ancient technology we haven't seen before, we should know about it," said Sam. "Bring him to Area 51. I will brief Colonel Telford on the situation."
"You don't want him at Stargate Command?" asked Cameron.
"Until we know what we're dealing with, we can't compromise the security of the Stargate," said Sam.
"Copy that," said Cameron. "Mitchell out."
~~00~~
"So what exactly does that thing do?" asked Greer, indicating the device on Janus' left wrist.
"It uses information from my surroundings to predict possible futures, and then shows them to me telepathically," explained Janus.
"Still not sure I get it," said Greer.
"It's a little out there, but it's not inconceivable," said Jessica. "I'll be interested to have a look at it."
"Have you ever seen The Last Starfighter?" asked Janus. "It's kinda like when Alex-"
"What did you say?" interrupted Jessica. "That movie came out when I was a kid. What would an Ancient who has been in stasis for the last thousand years know about The Last Starfighter?"
"Well, you see, I," Janus stammered. "It's actually more like Prince of Persia, you know, the video game-"
Jessica and Greer aimed their P90s at him. Danesh's hand flew to the Zat gun on her hip.
"Aw, hell," said Janus. "Alright, fine. My name isn't Janus. It's Aaron. But I still want to join SG-1."
~~00~~
Aaron sat in a clean white room on a metal chair. In front of him was a metal desk, and sitting across from him was a man in a crisp grey suit. A security guard stood next to the door, which was next to a large mirror. The mirror was obviously two-way.
"Why am I in an interrogation room?" asked Aaron. "I've already told you everything I know. I found Janus' lab, I accidentally put this device that can see the future on my arm, and now I want to join SG-1 because I would totally be an asset to the team!"
The man in the grey suit cleared his throat and placed a briefcase on the desk, opening it and pulling out a stack of cards.
"Aaron Grimes, is that correct?" asked the man, shuffling the cards.
"Yeah, and who are you?" retorted Aaron.
"Will you please explain how the device you found in the Ancient laboratory works?" said the man, showing no expression as he finished shuffling and carefully set the deck on the table.
"How many times do I have to explain this? I already told the team all about it," complained Aaron.
"Just one more time, for the record," insisted the man, flashing a smile devoid of all emotion.
"Fine. The device tells me about probabilities," explained Aaron. "Sometimes it just tells me what the chances are of something happening, and sometimes it shows me the most likely future, you know, like in Final Destination. Except without the inevitable gruesome death by tanning bed, of course."
"I see," said the stoic government man in the grey suit, picking up the top card of the deck in front of him and looking at it. "I'd like to try something. Please describe the image printed on this card."
[This unit predicts that there is a 97.42% chance that the card in question displays the roman character 'A' in Times New Roman font, size 32, printed in blue ink.]
"It's the letter A," said Aaron. "Times New Roman font, size 32, blue ink."
Grey Suit set the card face up on the table. It was exactly as Aaron described it.
"Now this one," said Grey Suit, picking up another card.
"A photo of a blue rhododendron," said Aaron.
Once again, he was correct.
"The Eiffel Tower, a dog, the number 7, and the nine Chevron address used to dial the Destiny," said Aaron, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to go on?"
Grey Suit flipped over the next four cards, revealing The Eiffel Tower, a dog, the number 7, and the nine Chevron address used to dial the Destiny.
"No, thank you," said Grey Suit. "That will be quite enough."
"So can I join SG-1 now?" asked Aaron.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," said Grey Suit. "We'd like to keep you here at Area 51 for some more tests."
[Calculating possible futures…]
The door opened and the security guard stood aside as a man in an Air Force uniform walked in. Aaron noticed the gun holster on his hip.
[This unit estimates that the chance of successful escape is currently 89.23%.]
Aaron felt the muscles in his legs tense as he prepared to make a play for the door.
[This unit estimated that the chance of escaping without inflicting casualties is currently 0.45%.]
Aaron relaxed and sat back against the chair.
"My name is Colonel David Telford," said the new arrival. "Welcome to Area 51."
~~00~~
The sharp sound of knuckles rapping on the door woke Aaron from a particularly pleasant dream in which he was the newest crew member of the firefly-class ship Serenity.
"Wake up, Aaron," said Major Ellis. "Telford wants you in the testing room in an hour."
It had been two months since Aaron arrived at Area 51, and every day of those two months had been filled with test after test. Once the scientists had determined that there was no way to remove the device from Aaron's arm without killing him and rendering the device useless, they proceeded to put him through every controlled experiment they could dream up to test his ability to predict the future. Colonel Telford was present at most every test, eager to unlock the secrets of the device.
Aaron often considered escape, but doing so would almost certainly result in injuries and deaths. Though the device had yet to show him a scenario where he was allowed to join SG-1 or see the Stargate at all, he could not bring himself to hurt anyone, let alone be responsible for anyone's death.
He groaned and stumbled out of bed, pulling on the uniform that had been laid out for him on the desk. He opened the door and walked down the hall to the mess with Major Ellis. The two men loaded up their trays with breakfast and coffee, and sat down at a table.
"How are you feeling this morning, Aaron?" asked Ellis, sipping his coffee.
"They're never going to let me go," said Aaron. "I should have known this would happen. It's always the same with the government."
"Oh come on," said Ellis, smiling. "They're working on a way to get that thing off your arm. As soon as they do, I'm certain they will let you go."
"What if I don't want it off?" asked Aaron. "I could do a lot of good with this thing. I could do SG-1 a lot of good. All I've ever wanted was to explore the universe, but as soon as I found out that was possible, the government took me hostage."
"The government's not all bad," said Ellis. "Don't be so pessimistic."
Aaron sighed and looked over at the emergency exit door, where an armed guard was standing.
[This unit estimates that the chance of successful escape is currently 93.2%.]
~~00~~
"So can I join SG-1 now?" asked Aaron.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," said Grey Suit. "We'd like to keep you here at Area 51 for some more tests."
[Calculating possible futures…]
The door opened and the security guard stood aside as Colonel Telford walked in. Aaron noticed the gun holster on his hip.
[This unit estimates that the chance of successful escape is currently 89.23%.]
Aaron felt the muscles in his legs tense as he prepared to make a play for the door.
[This unit estimated that the chance of escaping without inflicting casualties is currently 0.45%.]
"Screw this," said Aaron. He shoved the metal desk forward, sending Grey Suit sliding into the far wall. As Telford and the guard reached for their weapons, Aaron stood up and flipped the metal chair he was sitting on up into his hands. He swung the chair at Telford, hitting the Colonel across the skull and knocking him to the ground. Tossing the chair aside, Aaron quickly covered the distance between himself and the guard, parrying the guard's pistol out of the way with one hand and jabbing him in the throat with the other. As the guard clutched his throat trying to breathe, Aaron pointed his own gun at him and walked sideways through the open door before taking off down the hallway. Piercing alarms began to sound and red lights flashed on the walls.
As he ran, two airmen appeared around the corner at the far end of the hall. Without hesitating, Aaron shot both of them in the head with deadly accuracy, and ran past them as their corpses slumped to the floor.
[This unit calculates that the chance of successful escape decreases by 1.82% for every minute the security forces of this facility are focused on capturing you.]
"Better cause a distraction then," said Aaron, turning down a hallway and entering a doorway on the left hand side. Inside there was a technician and an armed guard, and beyond them stood the Trenalian Helbeast, known around Area 51 as 'Sparky'. Aaron shot the technician and the guard before they could react to his arrival.
~~00~~
Down a distant hallway, Aarron could hear airmen engaging the helbeast. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, he ran toward the hangar bay. As he arrived at the hangar bay doors, a blast door slammed shut in front of him, and he felt a tranquilizer dart hit him in the back. He turned around in time to see Colonel Telford, still bleeding from the side of his head, holding a tranq gun.
"I guess you can't see every future," said Telford.
Aaron's vision began to blur, and then he lost consciousness.
~~00~~
"What you're suggesting is inhumane, and I won't allow it."
"Fortunately that's not up to you, Colonel Mitchell. We can't allow him to leave, it is far too dangerous."
"With all due respect, Telford, there is no danger that is worth this."
"I don't think you understand the situation here Colonel. The more information he is exposed to, the more accurate his predictions become. He sees every possible variation of the future. It's a fluke that we subdued him in the first place. Total lockdown is the only way to prevent him from escaping."
"I still believe that he was only acting in self-defense. He never would have tried to escape if we had let him participate in the program, instead of keeping him like a rat. Remember that he came to us."
"Pretending to be someone else. And now he's proven how deadly he can be. The man is genetically bonded to what may be the most powerful weapon we've ever discovered."
Aaron opened his eyes, slowly. He was strapped to a hospital bed, being wheeled through a hallway. He felt groggy; it was hard to focus.
[This unit predicts there is currently a 12.84% chance of successful escape.]
"It looks like he's coming to. Sedate him, doctor!"
Aaron's vision began to swim, and he felt his eyelids drooping.
[This unit predicts there is currently a 1.52% chance of successful escape.]
"You're not going to get away with this, Telford."
"Guards, please remove the Colonel from the compound."
"You sick bastard. I'll be back, and I'm coming for you."
Aaron saw Colonel Mitchell dragged off down the hallway. Aaron struggled to sit up against the straps holding him down, but he was far too weak.
He was wheeled into a dark room, where he was secured to metal restraints and fitted with various tubes to fulfil his bodily functions. The men left, and then there was total darkness, and total silence. Complete sensory deprivation.
[This unit predicts there is currently a 0.034% chance of escape.]
~~00~~
In his dad's workshop, Aaron stopped pacing as an idea dawned on him. "I wonder… what is the best way to get to another inhabited world?"
[This unit predicts that the most efficient means of transportation to other populated worlds is via the Stargate.]
"Tell me more about this Stargate," said Aaron.
[Calculating possible futures…]
In an instant, he saw himself learning all about the Stargate Program and SG-1, concocting a plan to trick SG-1 into accepting him as a member, and ultimately being captured, tested, and locked away in a high-security cell at Area 51.
Aaron had now confirmed what he knew from watching V for Vendetta: the government was not to be trusted. If he was going to explore the stars, he'd have to do it on his own.
~~00~~
One week before SG-1 travelled to P7X-224, a man wearing an Air Force uniform passed through security using Major Danzer's ID badge. The security guard on shift was thinking about the date he went on the night before and trying to decide how long to wait before calling the girl again; the subtle visual differences between Major Danzer and the man purporting to be Major Danzer were lost on him.
At 2:05 a.m. the man who was not Major Danzer relieved Sergeant Walter Harriman, who had just finished a nine hour shift and was looking forward to getting some sleep. Though Harriman was usually meticulous about protocol, the day had been a little too slow, and he was a little too tired to make sure the man replacing him had the proper authorization.
The man who was not Major Danzer and who did not have the proper authorization entered a seven chevron address into the dialing computer, and walked briskly down to the gate room as a wormhole opened. As the event horizon settled into the Stargate, the man walked up the ramp. Before walking through, he turned around and smiled.
"So long, and thanks for all the fish," he said, before walking through the open wormhole.
Thirty seconds later, the gate room was flooded with armed airmen, who arrived just in time to watch the Stargate shut down.
"Can someone tell me what just happened?" asked General Samantha Carter.
"Someone activated the gate and walked through," said Harriman, who was still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Who was it? Where did they go?" Sam yelled.
"I don't know, General," said Harriman apologetically. "The log has been erased. I wasn't here when it happened."
"How could someone dial the gate and get through the event horizon before anyone else noticed?" Sam asked.
She stared at the Stargate. I wonder what the chances are that the IOA will hear about this, she thought.
[Calculating possible futures…]
Written by Caleb Palmquist
Story by Caleb Palmquist and Andrew Marron