Author's Notes
Melia is a character from the Atlantis episode "Before I Sleep", which, indeed, involved Elizabeth Weir "walking the floors of Atlantis" ten thousand years ago. She also appeared as a hologram in "Rising". I try to keep Atlantis references to a minimum, but there'll be a reference to an even more obscure Stargate source, because I'm evil like that.
"I... I don't understand, I thought you didn't interfere..." said Daniel. "I mean, you all let Anubis roam free, and now you're suddenly going to step in for just another human culture?"
Melia made a step in Daniel's direction and cast a piercing look on him. Many things have changed since then, she said. We saw how you handled the Ori — and for the first time in millennia, we suddenly felt insecure. We ignored you because we believed you posed no threat to the ascended realm; now we saw that you did. And the consequences soon followed.
"What consequences?"
As much as they don't want to admit it, the Others believe you did them a favor. But we have held, ever since the dawn of our history, that the ends do not justify the means. You not only used a weapon we chose not to, you kept it after it served its purpose.
"It wasn't my decision," protested Daniel, picking the kerosene lamp from the floor and going to refuel it. "I wanted the Ark to be destroyed. The higher-ups weren't amused."
So you obey your authorities, even when you disagree with their rulings. We do the same. The Others' mindsets are changing, slowly, but they are; for now, we have to comply. But among the first revisions of their policy, it was declared that Earthans are now forbidden to ascend. This is, ultimately, what I have come to tell you: do not expect to cheat death a third time.
"But why?" exclaimed Daniel. "This doesn't really help your cause. You are in a position of relative safety, emphasis on 'relative', and now you refuse to share your power. Don't you think this makes you no better than the Ori?"
Ascension is open to all races seeking it; just not yours, any longer. You are reckless. At our time, we Lanteans were peaceful explorers, admiring the wonders of the universe and seeding it with life. And you bring nothing but death. You destroy ancient civilizations, unique cultures, whenever you think they pose a threat to you. You disrupt established orders, you meddle in affairs where your presence was never requested, and you scavenge technology beyond your understanding — mostly ours. To use your own language, you are no better than the Goa'uld.
"The Ori are worse than the Goa'uld!"
Melia smiled again — this time, apparently, out of genuine amusement. Tenacious as ever, Daniel Jackson. Now, I have given you a warning. You are not just hopelessly persistent, you are also ignorant. You were wrong: the Aschen are not 'just' another human culture. Abandon your campaign. Otherwise, I will help them stop you.
"And get descended faster than you can blink," Daniel smiled in return.
Even powerless, I could stop you with just three words. Three. I am not doing it right now because I want to give you a chance.
"...And then, the prisoners told us that the Aschen home planet was destroyed by a black hole," Athe continued, as Mitchell kept gazing at him with a skeptical and slightly annoyed look.
"We think they tried one of the Stargate addresses Sam and I gave them," explained Faxon.
"They had plenty of time to evacuate, though," said Athe. "They flew to Ingwoa, rebuilt there."
"What treatment did you subject the prisoners to?" inquired Teal'c.
"We, uh, just left them behind. Who knows, if we brought them to the ship we stole from them... who knows... they could have wrestled the controls back somehow."
"What were you trying to accomplish?" asked Teal'c.
"Spread the word. When we found out what the Aschen were really doing, we tried to warn other planets — but they blocked the Stargate, and after we took another option, we ironically landed on a planet that already knew about the sterility thing. And we crashed the ship, to boot."
"With your ship, on the other hand..." proposed Joe.
"No!" exclaimed Mitchell. "Denied. We need it ourselves for a recon mission. Why didn't you use the Stargate from here, anyway?"
"No DHD. The Aschen took it."
"Just that? Seriously?" Vala livened up. "Believe it or not, this is where we come to the rescue."
"But before that," said Cam, "did you happen to bring any Aschen clothes on that ship? We could use two sets..."
"Three, two, one — pull!" Mitchell ordered. The crowd, standing there holding the ropes tied to the Stargate, pulled them all at once; with effort, they made it standing, and Teal'c and several Volians started propping it up with stone blocks. Meanwhile, Daniel stepped out of the nearby forest; seeing what was going on, he ran to the Stargate and grabbed one of the ropes, joining the effort.
"Now, release," said Mitchell after Teal'c's group was finished, and everyone let go of the ropes.
"Ah, good old-fashioned way," commented Daniel. "That's what they actually used in Giza — I saw the photos."
"Have you found any important information in the newspapers, Daniel Jackson?" asked Teal'c.
"Uh... n-no, not really. Except for that sterility headline, just average everyday news. It did give me some practice in the Aschen language, and that's really what—"
"Now," said Mitchell, not listening. "Daniel, help Teal'c connect the naquadah generator. Joe, Athe, prepare your messengers, one for each planet on the list."
Daniel and Teal'c carried the generator to the opposite side of the Stargate and tinkered with it for a few minutes, then signaled they were ready. And suddenly...
...the chevrons began to light up.
"Everyone! Take aim!!" Mitchell shouted immediately, pointing his P-90 at the gate. The rest of SG-1 followed suit, along with those Volians whom they had armed with spare weapons from the jumper. The Stargate opened; Mitchell stared at it, breathing heavily, for about thirty seconds; but nothing came through, and it closed again, just as suddenly.
"Cam," said Daniel in a worried, doubtful tone. "I hate to say this, but... I think it might be related, er, to what I just... I mean, I think we have to abandon this missi— Cam?" Mitchell didn't listen. He just headed to the jumper, waving to the rest of SG-1 to follow. Upon entering the ship, Daniel and Teal'c remained in the back, while Vala went straight to the controls.
She looked at the dialing panel for a second, then at the scrap of paper with a list of addresses written on it, then pressed a button. Outside, one of the chevrons on the Stargate lit up.
"Chevron one encoded," announced Vala in a put-on serious tone, trying not to crack up.
"You know, Vala," said Cam, "I think you've beaten this particular dead horse so much that it will soon come back as a zombie horse and tear your limbs off, just so it can rest in peace undisturbed."
"All right, all right." She pressed the remaining six buttons in silence; as the gate opened, one of the Volians standing just beside it, all wearing red armbands, went in.
"Next!"
It was a bright, sunny day — as always — in the city of Gahran, the new capital of the Aschen. Ingwoa, known as P9F-404 to the SGC, was previously of little interest to the inhabitants of Aschen Prime, as an uninhabited world infamous for its rapid climate oscillations between arid and overly moist, making it unsuitable for agriculture. Now, however, thanks to their efficient Weather Service, the Aschen adjusted the conditions to those they were used to on their former homeworld. Now they hardly saw any clouds over the course of a few years, much less rain.
And it was good.
To the Aschen, anyway. Stability was the norm of their life.
The city was divided into six identical, highly regular sections, themselves hexagonal in shape. When viewed from a landing aircraft's height, it looked like a six-petaled white flower lying on the boundless greenness of the surrounding grassland.
Aschen architecture was strictly utilitarian, but charming in its simplicity. Most of the buildings were white, with large windows and transparent floors, and this was not an artistic decision — it was done mostly to minimize lighting costs. Between them were clean wide streets and spacious grey squares with teleporters providing instant access to any part of the city — and those were so clean that they would make the finest Earth hospitals seem like village dumps.
In the center of the city, where all six sections met, stood a hexagonal skyscraper thinning out at the top, like an obelisk, at the ground floor of which was a terminal housing the Stargate itself, as well as the DHD, just in front of it. There wasn't any activity there today, though, apart from a few guards displaying signs of indifference rather than boredom; the six glass doors serving as exits were all closed, with electronic signs reading "Scheduled Maintenance" on them.
And at the very top, there was a room with a round table, with six Aschen — three male and three female — sitting at it. However, as they wore the same identical grey clothes as the people on the streets, a stranger would not be able to discern by their outlooks whether they actually held any sort of power.
"...and on this, I suggest closing the current meeting of the Directory," said one of them. "Any objections?" Nobody moved. "Unilateral."
As they were standing up, however, the loudspeaker on the ceiling activated. "Sorry to interrupt," it said in a serene voice, "there is unscheduled activity in the gate room. An unidentified ship appeared out of the Stargate and left... uh... through the wall. Your orders?"
The one who suggested closing the meeting moved his hands, apparently preparing to say something, but he was interrupted. A sudden flash blinded all six for a few seconds; when their sight returned, they saw a naked woman standing on the table — and remained unmoved, displaying no more reaction than if she was a lamp that has always stood there. Even the men.
Meanwhile, Melia — of course it was her — jumped off the table, apparently filling with excitement. "Breathing! Heart beating!" she exclaimed. "I almost forgot how it felt. And you, what are you standing here for? There are intruders!"
"In this case, what would be your advised course of action?" asked another one of the six, slightly offended.
"Conceal the gate."