Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Wars, or Stargate movies, TV shows, games, books, or comics. This story features elements inspired by Warhammer 40K. They all belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.
Chapter 14: A race towards damnation
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Part 7
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8 November 1996
The White House
Washington DC
The United States
Earth, Milky Way Galaxy
President Cole sat heavily in one of the two couches in the Oval Office and rubbed his face. He sighed tiredly, took the waiting cup of sweet coffee, and slowly drank it.
"Just give me the summary," the President ordered before finishing his drink.
"After our provisional agreement, Lady Lyda contacted her people, and they delivered a ceremonial staff weapon modified as Intar," Hayes did as instructed. His face scrunched before he continued. "Perun's Jaffa informed SGC that our ally contemplates naming the next ship completed on his new industrial world, the Admiral Perry. Earth apparently sounds like a great destination to end a shake-down cruise."
"Cheeky bastard," Cole chuckled darkly. "What about the sample?"
"SGC tested it at the base's firing range. It is an energy weapon shooting a distinct red pulse. They pack a light kinetic punch, though they cause no apparent damage otherwise. The Intar is en route to a DARPA facility where it can be tested against animals. We will know for certain if it is as useful as it seems after human testing is approved and carried out," Danvers summarized.
"Tomorrow, Lady Lyda will meet with a specialist from the FBI. After that, we will know the models of equipment and in what numbers we will have to acquire for this trade deal," Hayes finished.
"That's well and good," Cole nodded tiredly. "I've talked with Roberts at length about disclosure. We both agree there are people in the State Department who are too accustomed to the United States being a superpower," The President raised an eyebrow at Hayes.
"Gossiping about one's colleagues is usually not the done thing, Mr. President. However… there are indeed people in the organization who are ill-suited for the kind of negotiations we are conducting with Perun and his people. This is true for both career diplomats and political appointees. Trying to handle Perun virtually like anyone else on Earth will be a mistake," Henry looked at the floor. "I know colleagues who would treat him like a regular Warlord here on Earth due to their experiences or biases. It doesn't matter if he is one of the most powerful of his kind or a small fish, sir. We are talking about a being that controls over a dozen planets in multiple systems. He has advanced technology and interstellar warships. If what we speculate is true about the rest of his kind, we are also fortunate he is willing to treat with us instead of demanding our unconditional surrender, or worse," Hayes sighed. "Provoking him, intentionally or not, could lead to a disaster."
"You are to have lunch with the President-elect tomorrow. He will have a proposition for you, Henry," Cole gave him a nod of acknowledgment. "I am taking your analysis of the situation seriously. Go get some rest," he looked at the National Security Advisor. "Mike, do you have a final recommendation for me from a security standpoint?"
"The British, of course. On the continent, we will need France and Germany, at the very least. We can bring the rest of NATO into the fold later. Japan and South Korea are our closest allies in the Pacific. Considering where the gate is, bringing in Canada before their personnel at NORAD begin asking pointed questions might be for the best. From a security standpoint, we must be careful how we approach Germany. Berlin is still the spy capital of Europe, if not the world. After their reunification, the odds of people sympathizing with the Russians in their government learning and leaking the secret are higher than I like," His face twisted into a sour expression. "In the long run, we must bring in the Russians and all other nuclear powers. Otherwise, we risk playing nuclear Russian roulette."
"Despite, or perhaps because of everything Yeltsin is doing, Russia continues to look like a basket case," Cole hummed. "We might need to look at options to stabilize their economy. Otherwise, Perun might decide to do it. In that case, Perun can earn a lot of goodwill and potential allies over there."
"That will be a tough sell to make, sir."
"I know, Mike, I know. I also don't want to be dealing with the French. They will be even more insufferable than usual if we leave them in the dark longer than our other nominal allies."
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11 November 1996
Early in the evening on Veteran's Day, President Cole retreated to one of the secure rooms in the White House. The Ambassadors of the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Japan, and South Korea were in attendance after a nearly last-minute invitation to attend a ceremony honoring not only the US veterans who fought in America's wars but those of their allies as well.
Cole wasn't surprised that the odd talking head was unhappy that, by implication, the ceremony honored enemy soldiers who fought and killed Americans in World War 2. He discussed it with Reese beforehand, and they decided they could ignore any such foolishness. Nevertheless, the White House's Press Secretary had her job cut out tonight.
"Gentlemen, I am glad you all decided to attend this meeting," Cole addressed the diplomats after they sat down.
Mike entered, bringing folders with pictures, other evidence, and a few video tapes of relevant events. The Secret Service agents remained outside and sealed the room after the National Security Adviser, making it as secure as possible.
"As you might have guessed, I did have ulterior motives for bringing you in today."
Mike offered each ambassador a sealed folder, then found a free chair and sat down.
"During the Second World War, the US government came into possession of an ancient artifact dug up in Egypt. Until a few years ago, it remained forgotten," Cole sighed. "I will not mince words with you, gentlemen. The artifact is alien in origin."
The Ambassadors looked incredulously at Cole, then warily between each other, before their gaze went to Mike. The British diplomat cleared his throat and spoke warily: "Mr. President, such a claim is hard to accept."
"That was my reaction when I was informed about the discovery. The real shock was when the artifact activated while our scientists and engineers were trying to figure out what it was and how it worked," Cole noted dryly.
The diplomats warily opened their folders as if afraid they might contain an angry rattlesnake. The President wondered if he had the same incredulous and gobsmacked expression when he got first briefed on the Stargate Project and then when he learned Perun contacted them for the first time.
The French Ambassador pursed his lips. He carefully put down a picture of the Stargate activating and stared at Cole.
"Mr. President, I will need more than a few pictures as proof for something of this magnitude. I am reasonably sure my colleagues would agree," he looked at the other diplomats, who slowly nodded in agreement. Most of them were still going through the evidence.
"We have a lot of video records and an alien representative who would like to meet you all sooner rather than later," Mike pipped up. Only the glimmer in his eyes showed how much he was enjoying this.
"Pardon me?" The Frenchman's head snapped around so fast that Cole's neck winced in sympathy.
"The artifact itself and its activation are only the tip of the iceberg, gentlemen," Cole informed them. "The most relevant facts are we made contact with a friendly alien Warlord, and we have been trading with his people for some time now."
The German ambassador perked up at that. "The electric tractors! Was that what the furor was all about?"
"Among other things, yes," Cole confirmed. So far, they have been taking the news quite well, he decided, though the evening was young yet.
The diplomats looked uncertainly at each other again before focusing on the President.
"I would like to see some of the video evidence in question. I am reasonably sure my colleagues would agree," he looked at the other diplomats, who slowly nodded in agreement.
Mike looked at the President, and after a brief nod, he picked up a remote. He switched on the large TV and video player, dominating the room's far wall. While the ambassadors were watching a carefully put-together compilation, Cole kept studying them. At the end of the day, the real test and source of headaches would be the ambassadors' governments, not the diplomats sitting in this room.
Nevertheless, the President was confident he would be facing an inquisition as soon as the ambassadors got over the shock of the disclosure and figured out what they needed to know, preferably yesterday.
On the bright side, as long as he didn't fuck up by the numbers, Cole knew that this meeting and the next few months would cement his place in human history in a way most presidents couldn't even dream of.
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Part 8
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12 November 1996
Storm Industries Corporate HQ
Colorado Springs, Colorado
The United States, Earth
Milky Way Galaxy
When she arrived, Dr. Samara Carter was about to start bouncing around in excitement. On the outside, the building didn't stand out among the area's red-colored construction cluster. The very obvious and armed private security in the foyer, while expected, was a reminder that there was nothing ordinary in this place.
Samara went through a checkpoint, hit the reception, and was immediately guided through an elevator and well-lit corridors to a conference room on the top floor. She was one of the last arrivals in Colorado Springs and the meeting. After taking a seat, Samara looked at the other scientists. She could recognize a few due to their association with the SGC or their work at Area 51 on alien technology.
Jay Felger and Simon Coombs once again argued over Star Trek, like they often did. The two of them were so engrossed in their discussion, that they didn't notice her arrival.
Samara didn't recognize the younger blond woman looking curiously at Felger, nor the bearded man about her age, who was reading the newest edition of the Scientific American.
Two more unfamiliar faces arrived soon after Samara – a tall, dark-haired woman and an older man in an old-fashioned suit who looked vaguely familiar. However, Carter was sure she hadn't met him in person. Over the next few minutes, more people got in and found seats before their host arrived. In all that time, Felger and Coombs were still oblivious to the rest of them, to the amusement of more than a few people.
Finally, two more weapons entered, and Samara struggled with her glee. She had seen pictures of the alien woman. She had been briefed to be polite and not-confrontational, just like everyone else in the meeting was supposed to. Still, being in the presence of an actual live alien, even if she couldn't see it while it was in its host, was incredible!
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the second woman announced. "Let me introduce the Lady Lyda. You are all here to push the boundaries of science and engineering by learning and then putting to good use theories and practices literally out of this world."
That introduction got everyone's attention. What followed ensured it wouldn't waver anytime soon.
Lyda's eyes glowed brightly, literally. Her voice was deep and resonating in a clearly inhuman way that sent shivers down Samara's back.
"Greetings. I am Lyda, servant of my Lord Perun. You are all here to learn and push your world's technology forward to benefit both our people. I will offer theoretical and engineering knowledge to bring you up to a reasonable standard before we can begin joint research and development in earnest."
By that point, everyone was ready to take notes and did their best to soak everything they were about to learn. New physics, concepts, and science they could hardly dream of? This was an opportunity many, if not most, of their peers worldwide would kill for!
"I've thought about where to start for some time now," Lyda continued in a normal, human voice, and her eyes ceased glowing. "I've decided that we will first focus on something that you are theoretically familiar with, and from what I understand, many in this world are already trying to achieve. Fusion and Cold Fusion."
Samara felt like she was about to explode from her seat and begin bouncing around the room like a ball of energy. She didn't expect they would focus on anything beyond pure theories for the time being, with practical applications likely far off. Fusion, on the other hand? That was a holy grail in its own right, one people have been working on for decades!
"Now, let me be clear on this point. Naquadah reactors can offer superior power output at most scales. However, they all require highly refined naquadah, if not weapons-grade one. On the other hand, fusion reactors can be built without the need for the most important and precious rare elements, releasing more of them for other uses. Nevertheless, considering the over-reliance of our people on naquadah-based alloys for room temperature superconductors, we will have to focus first on hybrid designs that still utilize naquadah, just not as a fuel source, until we can produce a sufficient quantity of conducting material as an alternative. I would also note that the Goa'uld haven't commonly used fusion reactors in a very long time. While my master is familiar with them theoretically, it would be up to us to practically recreate the technology. The same is true for what you call room-temperature superconductors. In that regard, my master believes he has a working theory on how to create them. However, doing so in a useful matter would require an orbital industry. That is one of the things we will work on developing for your world to supply useful components and materials that would compete with higher-end technologies Lord Perun prefers to focus our industry on."
The only answer Lyda got was rapt attention and the quiet noises of furiously scratched notes.
Samara felt like she was back in school when she raised a hand to be polite before asking a question.
"Yes?" the Alien inquired.
"I believe you have anti-gravity technology. Why not use that to build items that require microgravity conditions?" Carter asked.
"The whole purpose of our joint operations is to build your industry up enough to provide useful basic equipment and items with a minimum investment of rare resources. Thus, production at an industrial scale of conducting material as described would need to happen in the kind of orbital industry you can build with your current technology or what we can develop together."
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13 November 1996
Hereford, United Kingdom
Earth
Milky Way Galaxy
Right after morning PT, which happened during a chilly drizzle, all soldiers in the Squadron who were at the base got a few minutes to make themselves presentable before gathering in the largest secure briefing room they got.
Captain Price walked in last, followed by a nondescript civilian who appeared so unremarkable everyone immediately pegged him as a career spook.
"Good morning, ladies!" the Captain grinned at them. "We are officially living in an episode of Dr. Who, so brace yourselves! Our new friend here is about to brief us on a new threat environment and what we will focus on in the future!" Price walked to the board and TV on the wall where they often got intel they had to keep in mind and waved for the spook to begin. "This time, our friends across the pond outdid themselves in a particularly spectacular fashion," he added, looking expectantly at the spy.
The nondescript man put his briefcase on a table strategically placed beside the board, popped it open, and pulled out a thick sealed folder of the type made to hold particularly sensitive information. He also retrieved a few large pictures and secured them on the board. That got everyone paying attention – they could recognize footage from the nuclear scare in the US.
"As it turns out, aliens are real, and we aren't talking little gray people," the spook explained.
At that, everyone looked at Price.
"That some sort of joke, Captain?" Soap asked. "You've been fucking with us as of late to keep us on our toes, but this?"
"For fucks, sake!" Price grumbled. "This is as serious as taxes. That nut with the nuclear bomb? He was an alien parasite who has been around for a long damn time. The Americans have apparently made contact with a friendly one, who they've been trading with, and was key in ensuring a city didn't get to glow in the dark for the next few hundred years. Now, pay attention and keep any relevant questions to yourselves until the briefing is over. I will have you running the perimeter of our sweet home in full gear until you drop, then kick your arses for a repeat performance!"
No one doubted that Price would do it. He could be a bastard like that. Besides, the Captain often deemed running until you dropped an excellent warm-up exercise when riled up. The last time they carried packs full of stones, they had to return to their proper place after the 'fun' part.
As far as the briefing went, the more they learned, the less anyone liked the implications.
"Captain, will we get new equipment?" Soap piped up again after the spook told them all the bad news. "Our usual gear for domestic urban operations won't cut it. I don't think the rest of our small arms will cut it if we run into someone with such armor."
"Headshots should still work if the bastards aren't wearing helmets," one of the snipers noted. "Otherwise, we might want to get some of those cannons the Americans make and try to sell as sniper rifles. Didn't one of the other Squadrons find and keep a couple during Desert Storm?"
"I will have to check to see if those things are still around," Price offered. "And I wholeheartedly agree, our usual tools won't be sufficient. Until we have better options, I want ideas on how we can deal with such armor," the Captain jabbed a finger at the picture of alien armor, taken from up close after the incident in the US had been resolved.
"Explosives at point blank range. Even if the armor more or less holds, whatever is inside should have a bad day," Cappy, one of their demo experts, suggested.
"We won't hear the end of it, though I like the idea," Price grinned. "Now, our first task will see some of you become people of culture who can fit right in with the snobs in London. We are to secure various storage facilities operated by the British Museum. At the same time, specialists go through all the crap in there, looking for alien artifacts and, more importantly, technology."
"I've watched that Dr. Who episode, Captain. We will need guns, big guns," Soap offered his wisdom.
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AN: Just a reminder, in this timeline we have both Dr. Samara Carter, who we already saw working in Area 51 on a Death Glider, and her older sister, Captain Samantha Carter.