Celeste

by Amelia E. Adler

Continuation of Midnight Blue, Azure, and Shades of Blue: Intermission. After returning to her own timeline, Alice Boyd has to deal with the fallout. Chasing and confronting her nemesis will only be a part of her struggle; more than anything, she will have to face her own emotions, and who knows where they'll lead her in the end... OC with no AU - futurefic.

29. Chapter 15, part 1

Chapter 15, part 1.

Alice was shown into a smallish meeting room with bland décor and a projector screen on one wall. She barely managed to take a seat when the door opened and Aga Foster came in, her blonde hair pinned up on top of her head in a messy bun, a few strands falling onto her face. She was wearing black pants, a red shirt and a black blazer and looked a bit like Alice felt—tired.

"I thought they'd eventually send you to talk to me," she said with a bit of a sarcastic smile, approaching the table and extending her hand.

Alice shook it. "Yes, seemed quite inevitable, didn't it?"

Aga sat down opposite Alice and pulled a little notepad from an inside pocket of her blazer. "You don't mind if I take some notes, do you?"

Alice restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "So we're not off the record, huh?"

"Not this time, I'm afraid." She leaned back in her seat and gave Alice an amused look. "So, let me guess: you're gonna tell me not to pursue my story because of matters of national security, are you?"

"I would if I thought it would work." Alice shrugged. "Though it is a matter of national security."

"I know, that's why I wanna write about it." Aga sat up straighter. "You don't think the American people deserve to know what's going on inside the military?"

"What they deserve is to be safe," Alice parried. "And telling them all our secrets would not make them safer, in fact it would put them in danger."

"Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety," the journalist quoted.

"You know that Benjamin Franklin was writing about a tax dispute at the Pennsylvania General Assembly," Alice commented with a snicker. "He was trying to support the legislature's authority to tax land in order to fund frontier defense spending during French and Indian War. Not quite the anti-government sentiment you were going for there."

"I'm not anti-government," Aga protested. "I just don't think the government has the right to lie to its people—or hide the truth."

"And what is that truth that you think we're hiding?"

She chuckled. "Clever, but you don't think I'm just gonna give up my information that easily, do you?"

Alice didn't manage to repress an eye-roll this time. "I'm not that clever. I was genuinely asking."

"Either way, I'm not telling you."

"Then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I guess we are," Aga agreed, nodding seriously.

Alice sighed heavily. "Really, though. Drop it," she pleaded. "Nothing good can come out of it."

"You're wrong. Might not be good for the military, but the people deserve to know what you're hiding from them."

"And one day they will know. But not now." Alice shook her head. "You don't understand what it would do if they found out now."

"What, you'd lose some face?" Aga sounded a little peeved. "Come on."

Alice shook her head. "It's not about us, the military as an institution, or about the government. It's about real people and their safety."

"So I was right—this is an ongoing operation." Aga smiled triumphantly and scribbled something down in her notepad.

"Yes—and no. It's bigger than that."

"Yeah? Just how big?" She asked eagerly and Alice bit her tongue.

"Please, please drop the story."

"No."

Alice closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, an unconscious expression of frustration she'd unknowingly picked up from Carter. "Is there anything I can say or do to get you to drop it?"

"No." Aga huffed indignantly. "I'm not like Julia Donovan. Oh, yes, I know about her deal," she added, seeing Alice's vexed look. "An exclusive for keeping her mouth shut. I won't go for anything like that. I have a responsibility to the public first."

"You're gonna do them a huge disservice if you continue to pursue this," Alice warned. "I'm not just saying that. I truly believe it's not in their best interest, not now." She paused to take a deep breath and continued earnestly: "I do believe they deserve to know, I really do—but we have to be very careful when and how we tell them, or we risk—" She stopped, unsure how to phrase it without revealing too much.

Aga threw her a scrutinizing glance. "You seem genuine."

Alice smiled mirthlessly. "I am. I know you don't really know me, but I promise you that all I care about is the safety and well-being of the people I swore to defend. I take my oath very seriously."

"I know." The journalist shifted on her seat; Alice couldn't blame her, the little plastic chairs were not very comfortable. "We only spoke for a moment at the reunion, but I've been looking into you for months, Major Boyd. I know a lot more about you than any other subject in my investigation."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's a little easier when you have a starting point, and all I had to do was ask my husband," Aga explained with a smirk. "He told me a lot about your childhood and teenage years." She paused for effect, and then added with a twinkle in the eye: "I also know about your meeting a few years ago."

"Oh." Alice didn't know what to say, but her face must have expressed her awkwardness and distress, because Aga laughed out loud.

"Relax, it was before my time," she said, taking pity on her interlocutrice. "Besides, I can hardly blame you for going for him—quite a unit of a man, isn't he?"

Alice blinked uncomfortably. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"Sure you do." Aga's smile turned mocking, but then she grew serious again. "Jokes aside, Stephen did tell me a lot about your early years. I know you were a wonder child—he told me you could read impossibly fast, had perfect recall and an IQ of 200. I know he was exaggerating—but not by much, was he?" She paused, maybe hoping that Alice would say something, but faced with silence, she continued: "I know your father was in the Navy and he died in the line of duty when you were just fourteen years old. I know your mother has schizophrenia and that she spent some time in a treatment center—that I found out on my own, Stephen didn't know," she noted. "I know you graduated CalTech at nineteen with a double major, and summa cum laude to boot. You then joined the Air Force and got one of the coveted rated positions—and flying F-16s, no less! But that is where your service record ends. All the rest is a string of blackouts and cover stories, and that means that whatever it is you're doing, you've been involved in it since 2004. And since then, you've racked up a pretty impressive list of decorations. Two Bronze Stars, an Air Medal, three Purple Hearts and a Prisoner of War Medal—quite a collection. And yet not a single campaign medal among them—not Iraq, not Afghanistan, not Global War on Terror. I read the citations, too, you know—and I swear I've never seen anything more vague than those. Interesting thing, though. I got personnel records of some of your superiors and colleagues, too, and I noticed a certain pattern—they all seem extremely highly decorated, Colonel Mitchell even got a Medal of Honor. They all seem very similar to you—there is a point in their careers when the service record goes blank, or gets a lame-ass cover story, and all the decorations earned afterwards are vague just like yours, never specifying even what kind of enemy was it that you all faced."

Alice nodded seriously. "I know. That's the point. It's supposed to be vague, because it's classified."

"Awards and decorations are a matter of public record."

"And so they are, but the circumstances in which they had been earned are not."

"Medals of Honor cannot be awarded in secret," Aga protested.

"None of these awards were given in secret. As you said, they are a matter of public record—it's just that the citations are a little vague due to the conditions of classification applied to the missions."

"That sounds illegal," the journalist quarreled. "Or at least extremely suspect."

Alice frowned. "Are you saying you don't believe these decorations should have been awarded?"

Aga puffed, but then shook her head. "No. I don't doubt that they had been well-earned. I mean, I can literally see your scars." She waved at Alice. "I am simply questioning the virtue of keeping the details of the relevant missions classified."

"So I guess we're back to the beginning. You think we should declassify it, I say we shouldn't," Alice summed up.

"Yeah." Aga nodded, her expression pensive. "Listen, I don't dispute your commitment. It's obvious after talking to you for one minute that you truly believe in what you're saying—but it's not enough. The truth will set you free. I cannot and will not accept anything less, that's my commitment."

Alice had to admit, grudgingly, that the journalist impressed her with the force of her unwavering conviction. How was she supposed to get her to drop it?

"I don't have enough to go to print yet," Aga continued after a moment of silence. "But I have many leads and I'm going to follow them, to the best of my ability."

Alice sighed heavily. "Right." She got to her feet. "I can see there's nothing I can say to convince you."

"Not really." The reporter stood up, too. "But I enjoyed our little talk."

"Yeah." Alice stopped short of going out the door, and turned around. "Just… be careful, Aga. If you keep pursuing this, you might encounter something much worse than your perceived government overreach."

Aga frowned deeply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alice realized that she understood it as a threat, and she rushed to explain: "Just that there are bad guys who know about this, too. Be sure about your sources. And if you don't believe me, ask Julia Donovan how her producer died." And then she nodded goodbye and let herself out of the meeting room.

---

The lawn was still bright green, although the few trees planted around were losing leaves left and right already. The temperature was about the same as in New York—low sixties—but the wind was a bit chilling and Alice pulled her blazer closer around herself as she sat on the bench.

"I really had hoped you'd find a way to convince her," Carter said and Alice grimaced. Here it was: she'd disappointed her boss once again.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," she replied contritely, switching the phone from her right hand to left; her arm was tired. "She's very committed to her craft."

"I know. And what's your estimate, what does she know?"

"She clearly doesn't know what the Program is yet." Alice looked around to make sure she was quite alone. There was a group of students hanging out nearby, but they were too far to hear her hushed voice, she deemed. "But she claims she has many leads to follow, and the fact that she managed to figure out the connection to Groom Lake is significant."

"So you think there's a potential she might find out more?"

"More, yes, but how much more—that is the question. And even if she does, will she believe it?" Alice mused. "Plus, the New York Times is a respected newspaper, printing a story about the Program without hard proof might compromise their reputation."

"That's true, but we cannot rely on this—she might try to publish on the Internet, and even partial information can be harmful to our operations," Carter warned. "We have to keep an eye on her and act accordingly."

"You're talking about trying to discredit her like we did with Colson?"

"Maybe. But also—nearly everyone who's ever gotten close to the real story suffered consequences, not from us but from the Trust."

Alice nodded, even though, of course, Carter couldn't see it. "I told her to be careful, without any specifics, of course. There are more elements out there who might lose out on this going public."

The general sighed audibly. "Alright. I'll ask the NID to continue their discreet observation, just in case. And now, you're ready to meet Mr. Childes?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go in now—just wanted to report on my conversation with Aga first."

"Alright, then, good luck."

"Thank you, ma'am." Alice pressed the red receiver button on her phone to end the call. She continued to sit on the bench, looking at the green plaza in front of her, for a long moment. Then she sighed and got up.

It took her a few minutes to get to the classroom in the Eck Hall where Professor Trevor Childes was teaching a class on International Law and the Use of Force. It was running over—he was supposed to be done already, but as Alice entered the room, he was still in full flow and his students were hard at work, making notes. She stood near the door, listening in and observing him.

He was a short man—it was hard to ascertain from that far away, but he couldn't be more than a couple inches taller than Alice herself. He looked to be in his fifties; his head was balding at the top, with light blonde hair mixed in with gray on the temples. He clearly didn't spend much time at the gym, but he was of an average build, neither slim nor bulky. He was dressed in dark gray pants, blue shirt and a black sweater, and had round eyeglasses that made his face look more pudgy than it really was. In all, he looked exactly like Alice would imagine a law professor would.

He finally ended his presentation, assigned some homework to his students, and dismissed them. Alice waited for them to filter out of the room before she walked down the aisle of the auditorium to join him at the lowest point, by his desk, where he was sitting and discussing something with a student.

"That's all, Miss Rowe," he was just saying as Alice approached him. He noticed her, gave her a perfunctory look, and addressed her: "I'm sorry, miss, I don't have the time right now, I'm already late for an appointment—come back during office hours."

Alice snickered and shook her head. "I'm not a student, sir—I'm Major Alice Boyd, and your appointment is with me." She couldn't quite blame him for the mistake. He had many students, it was conceivable not to know them all by sight, and she was almost young enough to be one of them—especially that she knew she looked even younger than she was. And she was wearing civilian clothes—a black pencil skirt, light green halter top and a black blazer, supplemented with low pumps and a shiny leather handbag.

She noted that the student who had talked to him before looked around her shoulder to stare at Alice curiously and almost walked into the first row of seats.

"You're Major Boyd?" The professor stood up. "Good Lord, I thought you were going to be a man!"

Alice raised one eyebrow and shook her head, amused. "I'm sorry to disappoint, Professor."

"No, no, obviously that was my mistake, I shouldn't have made assumptions. Either way, it's nice to meet you, Major." And he reached out to shake her hand.

She did and smiled pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, too, Professor. Is there somewhere we can talk more privately?"

"Yes, please, let's go to my office. It's not far." He gestured at her to follow him and led her out of the classroom—by a side door at the bottom, not the way she came from.

His office was quite bright, with big windows on two walls, and had a comfortable desk and leather-bound chairs on each side of it. They each took a seat and Alice cleared her throat.

"Sir, I have been asked to give you some details pertaining to the job you have been recently offered and which, if I understand correctly, you have already accepted."

"Quite against my better judgment, but indeed, I have," he confirmed with a small smile. "It's not every day a man gets offered a job by the President himself, but the lack of any substantial information on the nature of said job is rather disquieting."

"Did the President tell you anything about it?" Alice inquired cautiously.

"He said I'd be leading an international expedition of scientists somewhere far away, escorted by a military contingent. From which I understand it could be quite dangerous—are you going to tell me it's in Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"No, sir, it's definitely not in either of those countries." She restrained the urge to smirk.

"The thing I don't quite get is why me?" He asked, shaking his head. "I may be a professor of international law, but I am hardly a scientist."

"Did you know Doctor Elizabeth Weir?"

He arched his bushy eyebrows. "Of course. She was a foremost expert in international politics and one hell of a negotiator. I was very sad to hear of her passing a few years ago."

"Doctor Weir was the first leader of the expedition," Alice explained. "And a very successful one, despite horrible circumstances. But"—she hesitated and then figured he'd need to know anyway—"she died as a direct result of that position. It is very dangerous. We've lost many good people to the Program."

"The Program?" His eyebrows went even higher up. "I thought Doctor Weir passed away at home."

"That was just a cover story." Alice shook her head. "I didn't have the opportunity to meet her myself, but she was instrumental in the defense of the expedition from a terrible enemy."

"That sounds deliciously mysterious," Childes noted with a smile. "Come, then, let's find out what this is all about."

Alice nodded and from her purse pulled a small round object of shiny metal, with a cavity in the center where a tiny crystal sat, pointed up.

"This is Chimera Projection System," she explained, lifting the remote in her hand. She flicked it on and a small hologram of the Stargate appeared above the desk between them. Ignoring the professor's sigh of awe, she launched herself into the explanation, essentially repeating the spiel she once gave her Uncle Alastar and three more congressmen.

Childes didn't interrupt her much, but she saw he grew more and more grim and stern with every minute. It wasn't even that he seemed incredulous—she could deal with that; but he looked almost affronted.

Eventually she finished and threw him a cautious glance around the floating miniature of Atlantis that separated them.

"Are you really expecting me to just believe and accept all of that?" He asked after a moment of loaded silence.

"Frankly, no, sir. Not yet. I know it's quite a lot to take in. When I was first told, I thought I was having a schizophrenic episode." She smiled to try to mollify him, but he still looked weirdly offended.

"This is not funny, Major. A very poor joke, especially within these walls," he said with censure in his voice, waving around him.

Alice clicked the hologram off and grabbed the Chimera off the table to put it back to her purse. "It's not a joke, sir. I know it might be a little difficult to accept, especially to a man of deep faith such as yourself. I'm a scientist, it wasn't such a big stretch, but—"

"This has nothing to do with my faith," he protested, and immediately added, belying his protestations: "Though the mere idea of it is, frankly, offensive. Ancient race of humans who seeded life in the galaxy, what a preposterous notion! We have been created by God, and that's the truth."

Alice shook her head, a little peeved. Why was the idea that they were created by some omnipotent being any less preposterous? But she held her tongue. "There is no proof to dispute the idea that the Ancients have been created by a god, but we do have enough evidence to confirm that life in this galaxy has been initiated by them," she explained mildly instead.

"That is the most ridiculous of all the ridiculous things you said," he insisted.

She shook her head and fished out her phone from her purse. "Let's have a little trip, shall we?" She told him and then dialed a pre-programmed number. She put the phone on speakerphone.

"This is Tan Zheng of Sun Tzu."

"Colonel Tan, this is Major Boyd. Myself and Professor Childes would love to have a tour of your ship, if you'd be so kind."

"Right away, Major." The man's accent was distinct, but perfectly understandable.

"Ship?" Childes repeated with a raised eyebrow, his voice mocking—and then the white light enveloped them both and a blink of an eye later they were aboard the Chinese BC-304.

"What the—?" He looked around in a bit of panic.

"Welcome to Sun Tzu, Professor—the fifth of Earth's Daedalus-class battlecruisers," Alice said with a flourish, waving him towards the front viewport. "We are currently on the orbit of our fair planet, as you can see below."

His face was an epitome of shock and Alice decided to give him a moment to look around and turned around to greet the ship's captain—and noticed that aside from Colonel Tan, there was a woman standing on the raised platform. Alice had never met her before, but she knew who she was.

"Shen nǚ shì," she said tentatively, bowing her head a little.

The IOA representative stepped down onto her level and extended her hand. "That was not totally horrible, well done Major," she answered with an indulgent smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise, ma'am." Alice found Shen's words a little alarming, but there was no time to ponder them. She addressed the ship's captain next. "Colonel Tan, thank you for your help."

He nodded curtly. "Doing what's necessary, Major."

She smiled and then turned back to Childes, now flanked by Shen.

"Professor," she said, getting his attention. He looked around at her, his eyes wide. "This is Dr. Shen Xiaoyi, the Chinese representative to the International Oversight Advisory."

He blinked quickly. "I know you—you used to work at the Chinese embassy in Washington."

Shen smiled and nodded. "Well remembered, Professor. We met back when you were at the UN. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Yes, well, the circumstances…" He halted, looking around a bit helplessly. "This can't be true," he added plaintively.

"I'm afraid it is," Shen contradicted mildly. "Don't worry, professor, once the first shock's over, you're going to find it all fascinating. I'm certain you're the right man for the job."

Alice smiled pleasantly, throwing the Chinese delegate a furtive glance. She'd been trying to become the Atlantis expedition leader for many years now, and to have failed again must have smarted a little—and although no sarcasm could be detected in her tone, Alice was sure Shen was trying to say the exact opposite thing.

"Well, thank you. What's the job?" Childes asked, seeming a little lost, turning back towards the window.

"Remember I told you about Atlantis, the city of Ancients we found in the Pegasus Galaxy?" Alice reminded him, taking a step to join him in front of the viewport. "It houses a joint science and military expedition comprised of around three hundred people from all around the world. Your job will be to lead them."

"Lead them?" He huffed, turning towards her. "Despite the little tale you've spun for me, Major, I know nothing about this expedition or what it's up against. How am I supposed to lead it?"

Alice fought against an urge to grimace at his words—"little tale she's spun", really?—and replied levelly: "My briefing was merely a starting point for you, sir. I've been authorized to give you access to mission reports, personnel files and other materials pertaining to the expedition, its mission in the Pegasus, and the City itself. You will have time to familiarize yourself with all that documentation—and surely, you will have more questions then. General Carter assured me that she and General O'Neill will be happy to answer them all then."

He shook his head. "Reports, documents… this is another galaxy we're talking about, one that is full of life-sucking aliens, if one is to believe what you've told me—which I am still not quite sure I do completely."

"It will all become clear when you have all the information, Professor," Shen reassured him with another amiable smile that looked just slightly overdone.

Alice opened her handbag and got out a small tablet in a black etui. "Here, Professor—this has all the documents you can access. Our IT department will e-mail you your login and password separately—in fact, they should already be waiting for you on your university address when you get back. I don't think I need to remind you that all of what you've heard and what you'll read on this tablet is highly classified. You can't tell any of this to anyone, not even as a passing, vague remark."

He gave her a frustrated look. "Please don't treat me like a child!"

"Sorry, sir," she backpedaled immediately. "We've had some recent issues with leaks and people saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so we're all a little over-sensitive when it comes to information security."

"Nobody would believe me even if I did tell anyone," he added petulantly.

"Yes, sir." Alice restrained the urge to roll her eyes and handed him the tablet. "Do you have any more questions at this time?"

"Oh, just about a million," he said crankily. "But I think I'll read this material first. I have a great deal to think about."

Alice nodded, keeping her face impassive. "In that case, we won't take any more of your time, Professor. Colonel Tan will beam you back down to your office. If you do have any burning questions in the meantime, please don't hesitate to call me." And she pulled out a business card from a side pocket of her handbag and gave it to him.

"Thanks. Um, what do you mean, beam me down?" He frowned, but Alice only looked at Colonel Tan and a flash of bright light later, Trevor Childes was gone.

"Nice man," Shen commented, turning to face Alice, a fake pleasant smile still plastered to her lips.

"Indeed," Alice agreed carefully, and stopped, not knowing what else to say. This was politics—not her strong suit.

"But I have to say, I am glad I was able to finally meet you, Major. You are quite the rising star in the eyes of my colleagues from the IOA," the Chinese representative added with a gentle bow.

But not you?, Alice thought, reciprocating the gesture. "Thank you, Doctor Shen. I'm just doing my best."

"And your best is quite impressive." For once, Shen's voice sounded genuine—or maybe it was wishful thinking on Alice's part. "We are all eagerly awaiting any intel you can get from your mission to infiltrate the Lucian Alliance. They have been a thorn in our side for long enough."

"Yes, ma'am. Though I have to reiterate that my primary objective is to find and neutralize the Wraith Jareth," the major clarified. "Any intel on the Alliance will be incidental."

"That's not quite how Chapman Pincher presented it to us," Shen noted with another pleasant smile, though this time it seemed to have a steely edge to it. "But I understand the singularity of your purpose. You have quite a—past with him," she added; and the little pause she made seemed significant somehow.

Fuck, she knows, Alice realized. How does she know? Would Carter or O'Neill tell her? No, she decided. Neither would the President. Perhaps the British Prime Minister… though Alice could hardly imagine the UK siding with China, even if they were pissed at the USA for keeping it a secret.

"Yes, ma'am." She kept her reply short and moved on immediately: "I should be going. It's late and I'm scheduled to go off-world tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Major. Once again, it was a pleasure meeting you. Keep up the good work."

Alice shook Shen's extended arm. "Thank you, ma'am. Have a good night. Sir, can I ask for a lift back down to the SGC?" She addressed Colonel Tan. He nodded, gestured at his helmsman and a moment later Alice was enveloped in the familiar ball of white light.