Daniel returns the MALP to base, then SG-1 and Isteno amble the continuous passageway until they're not and are unexpectedly elsewhere. One second, they're standing near the stargate's stairs and grasping their surroundings, and now they're materializing, if you will, in an unknown area. Wow, that is something.
It's almost as if by trickery. Or perhaps it is.
"Uh," noises Sam, her blue eyes surveying around her. "Weren't we just—"
She's unable to complete her thought because she's interrupted by the man who earnestly despises surprises.
The colonel weaves through his team members to stand before the Cyrian. Unrevealed, it's not the surprise that has him unsettled but the feeling of similarity to what he's undergone regarding another device from another planet. He's uncertain if his sentiment is mutual with his team, but he will ask questions.
"Isteno, you want to tell us what happened?"
The woman takes the opportunity to regard him and notes the faded scar on his eyebrow and chin. Roughly translated, in Cyrios, he would easily be considered an el'ter starlaark, a man with appealing features. Prior, when the alarm blared concerning the detection of the chappa'ai's activation, Axmin-Isteno halted her tasks and went to seek the new arrivals. This way and that through the maze of corridors, she simultaneously clicked the semi-transparent screen on her sleeve and eyed the four hydris — strangers — meandering about. They don't seem dangerous, and there's something peculiar about the one in the opposing top attire.
"It is called dreamshadow, Jack O'Neill. It is an unlocked component to all the mastria and their lyncises, even during the acrux; it is a process of control and determination," answers Isteno. Though speaking about it, she reserves the visual reveal for later. Foremost is Decontamination, which the team supposes they're about to do now since they're standing in a bare room and are registering the suspicious-looking connected door just to their left.
"So, you guys are, like, mid-majors who should be with the higher majors. This is cool," compliments Jack. The room reminds him of Napoleon, her mighty needles and too-bright pin lights, yet less convoluted.
Isteno frowns, not recognizing the terminology. Teal'c comes to her rescue and finally takes the chance to use his vocal cords, explaining the meaning of the sports phrase his leader just used. He knows because of his sports outings with the colonel during downtime. Concluding, he clasps his hands behind his back, twists his body, and focuses on the door with lit, incomprehensible characters above it. So far, the travel has been intriguing, and he's discreetly waiting to view more of the planet and its kind. He is pleased that Isteno did not disown him for being a Jaffa, the gold insignia glossing against the luminous lights.
"And lyncises and acrux translates to..." trails Daniel, endeavoring to process a translated list of the Cyrios language. There is little to nothing about Cyria and its people besides the notion of an acquaintanceship with the Ancients, so all details, either minute or essentially meaningful, are worthwhile. During their briefing with Hammond, they reasoned that Jack was the centerpiece of the operation, beginning with him entering the address into their database as enough grounds to visit the planet.
There goes the leader's attention because he's now wandered off and looking (and, of course, touching) at anything in hand reach. He's still listening, though. Kind-of. The room is barren yet supplied simultaneously, although the main thing that catches his engagement are the pigments, lights, and machinery. The walls are like the ones in the Cyrian chappa'ai room, with frosted glass and now translucent flooring. He gazes around, making a swift 360-degree motion. Carter and Daniel are chatting with Isteno, and he registers Teal'c's alert on the door. His eyes roam the characters above the door, and for a second — even he can't believe it — he reads it. Boom, and now it's gone. Brows furrowed, he saunters over, sees a security hand-pad, and places his large hand into the insertion.
The pad switches from red to green for the briefest of seconds, prolonged enough to rouse the clicks and hissing of gears unlocking before locking again as it reverses to red.
No way.
"Sweet," he mutters.
Isteno senses a soft squeezing sensation on her charcoal bodysuit that notes an activation of a device, and she angles away from Sam and Daniel, raises her left arm, and reads the screen. To avoid getting ahead of herself and needing complete confirmation, she stows her discoveries and faces the four members of SG-1.
"Sir," Sam begins as she steps beside her CO. That's all she has to say. The Cyrian woman was in the middle of describing to her and Daniel the rite of endavis, like a quinceañera on Earth, when she heard and felt the clicks and hissing of gears releasing through the floor and up her spine until it faded. The colonel touched something that was activated briefly.
SG-1, the type of team they are, takes turns setting their hand on the insertion. Isteno grants them to fid with the hand-pad, which, undisclosed to them, only opens the wary door leading to the Decontamination room. She stands aside and monitors the remaining member's trial-and-error with the technology.
O'Neill: Activation — minor.
Carter: No Activation.
Teal'c: No Activation.
Jackson: No Activation.
Oh, yeah, this is the best day ever.
Disappointed, Sam and Daniel turn away from the device; Teal'c possesses a stoic facial expression. He assumes that because he's a Jaffa, it was unlikely to work on him. His teammates aren't Jaffa, yet it didn't work for Sam or Daniel, just their leader. No Activation three times across the board for them.
"You're a xastralion," comments Isteno, looking in awe at Jack. Here's confirmation. The cat is out of the bag. This is riveting and changes everything.
The front-line team stands in stupefaction because 1) they have absolutely no idea what that means, and 2) What. Just. Happened?!