Chapter 122: Cultural Exchange Part 4
Royal Palace, Bright Moon, Etheria, December 4th, 1999 (Earth Time)
"...and it's with great pleasure that I am here, announcing a performance of one of the Asgard's greatest epics, the 'Lost Sons of Vanir', a recording loaned to us by our guests from Asgard."
Adora clapped encouragingly when Glimmer nodded at Thor, Freyr and Penegal, who were sitting next to Adora in the first row of the theatre. She leaned over and whispered: "Thank you again for allowing this."
Thor smiled at her. "When you told us that your only examples of our culture were from Loki's private collection, we had to show you the real culture of Asgard. Even as a child, that rogue had no taste."
Adora kept smiling and nodded. She agreed with Thor's judgement of Loki's taste, but saying so would feel like talking about Loki behind his back. "We've been looking forward to this." Especially after the visit to Ketro and Jesa's farm. The Asgard had overwhelmed the farmers about the magitech they used to till the land with questions that would have been better addressed to the actual creators of the various tools. And she best not think about the Asgard's opinion on using draft animals and magitech together.
But that was over now, and the next day, the Asgard would visit Mystacor, where they could satisfy their curiosity about magitech. That should put them in a good mood, Adora hoped. And make them more receptive to Etheria's culture.
Meanwhile, Glimmer had stepped down from the stage and retook her seat in the front row, next to Bow and Adora, as the lights dimmed and the audience quietened down.
Once the theatre was mostly silent and dark, the stage was suddenly illuminated by a dim blueish glow, which turned into a holoprojection of an Asgard. According to Thor, it was a famous performer, Baldr. A famous dead performer, Adora reminded herself, wincing at how embarrassing it had been when she had asked the Asgard if he would like to visit and perform himself.
Then the holographic projection started to speak, and Adora sat straighter. This was it - genuine Asgard culture. Mainstream culture, as Daniel would say.
"In ages past, when faced with dire news, the Asgard were united, and yet…"
Baldr sounded as if he were half-dead already. Adora pressed her lips together - this was something Catra would have said - and forced herself to focus on the performance.
"...and so the Vanir left, never to be seen again."
Adora smiled and clapped her hands as the holographic projection on the stage bowed their head. She was genuinely happy - that the performance was now over. If the recordings Loki had given them of the Asgard epics had been bad, then this - Thor's favourite epic, apparently - was worse. The delivery had been just… 'Wooden' would be a compliment. If Jack were here, he'd be making jokes about robot performers. And if the performer had been a bot, Entrapta would have offered to repair it.
But, she noted with a side glance, the Asgard had liked the performance. At least, they looked moved. Especially Thor.
"If we show another such epic, we'll have a rebellion on our hands. Or a lynching," Glimmer whispered.
It was hyperbole, of course. But Adora was glad Catra was on Earth. Her lover wouldn't have been able to keep her tongue in check, Adora was sure.
At least Glimmer was clapping her hands as well, if not very enthusiastically. Only Bow and his Dads showed genuine enthusiasm in the front row, from what Adora could tell.
"That was fascinating!" George said.
"Oh, yes!" Lance was beaming. "It is so very interesting to see a truly alien culture - it seems that humans share similar cultural traits, possibly influenced by our shared First Ones heritage, though we'd have to research this more thoroughly, which would explain why Earth media are so popular on Etheria, while Asgard culture does not resonate nearly as well with us."
"Well, I found the story very interesting - a tribe of Asgard, lost in the galaxy," Bow said.
"From a historical point of view, of course, the story is interesting, but the performance itself utterly failed to entertain humans," Lance retorted. "A quick look at the audience proves that, especially given the circumstances."
"I see," Thor said.
Adora winced while Lance grimaced. Bow's dad was honest, but he probably shouldn't have said that out loud in the presence of their guests.
Though she couldn't really say that he was wrong. On any point.
Above the J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington D.C., United States of America, December 4th, 1999
"This would be much easier if we simply monitored the FBI's electronic communication," Samantha Carter pointed out. It would also, if you stretched definitions, be covered by the mandate of the Alliance. Of course, no one would believe that they actually feared a Goa'uld plot in this case, but it would be hard to disprove it. She turned her seat to look at the General.
"Yep, but we can't." He grinned. "They're using a dead drop - I doubt they'll be using electronic communications for anything juicy."
Sam pressed her lips together as she nodded. That was a logical deduction. She still didn't like it.
"Well, at least we can bug their offices while we're infiltrating their hideout," Catra commented. "So, you don't have to do that at a later date."
"I don't expect bugging the FBI offices will be necessary after this," Sam retorted. It would also be hideously illegal.
Catra somehow managed to shrug while sprawled over the co-pilot seat's armrest. "If there's one traitor, there could be more. Besides, they're your spy hunters, so they're an obvious target for infiltration."
"Most spies would consider the FBI an obvious organisation to avoid," Sam said.
Catra snorted. "Not the good spies. They would know that they'd be safest pretending to hunt spies - they would be aware of any investigations."
Sam glanced at the General. He was the closest they had to an expert in such undercover operations.
He frowned a little. "Well, it would be a bold strategy but also a high-risk one. Surrounding yourself with people trained to spot spies is not a safe tactic. Could have a great payoff, but the odds of surviving it for long aren't good. Of course, sometimes you don't need to survive undercover for long. But getting inside would be very hard since any new recruit would be vetted."
"By possibly corrupt people. Once you have a foot in the door…" Catra shrugged again. "But it's your decision. Unless it's Goa'uld-related."
"We can't determine whether something is related to a Goa'uld plot without investigating," Sam retorted.
Catra grinned. "Then I guess mission Bug-the-FBI is on."
"Yeah, the logic is flawless," the General said.
Sam didn't roll her eyes at Catra and him. But she huffed under her breath as she turned back to her computer. She really didn't like breaking the law so blatantly. Hacking a computer was just… collecting data. It was a kind of unorthodox research, from a certain point of view.
She blinked. She probably had watched Star Wars too often. Teal'c was to blame for that.
In any case, if this operation failed, she probably would have to emigrate to Etheria. As would the General. Of course, that would also mean that the UCMJ wouldn't apply to them any more, and… She shut down that annoying thought. She was better than that!
"So, how's the hacking of the FBI security going?" Catra asked, craning her neck to look at Sam upside down.
"You shouldn't have any problem bypassing their security system," Sam replied. Not with the advanced technology at their disposal. And with Melog's illusion power, that could effectively render the two cats invisible. No challenge, as Melog supposedly said.
"Yeah. But do you have anything else?" Catra didn't change her position. Sam felt her back hurt just looking at her twisted form.
"Not at this point." Nothing that her preliminary search had flagged. Of course, she might have missed something, but that was why she was running a much more thorough - and slower - search of the FBI data centre she had hacked.
But if Smith and Wilkinson were as careful as they had shown to be so far, this wouldn't get them any actionable intel. At most, Sam was hoping for clues and hints at what Wilkinson was doing - she already knew he wasn't running an official investigation that required contact with Smith; Smith didn't appear in the databanks at all.
And neither did anything connected to Kinsey or the NID so far. That was disappointing but hardly unexpected. They wouldn't have been half as dangerous if they had been incompetent, and their influence on the US government agencies would have only grown after the President had relied on their support to push through crucial policies to secure the Alliance with Etheria.
"Well, let's see what we can find out, then!" Catra got up from her seat with a fluid grace that Sam couldn't have pulled off in her best form, and Melog joined her.
Sam checked the scanner one last time. No sign of any improved security that she wasn't already aware of and had neutralised. Then she nodded. "Go!"
Catra grinned, then turned to her companion. "You heard her!"
Moments later, they faded from view - no, Sam corrected herself; an illusion of an empty shuttle interior covered them. Melog was showing off - they would have to create a different illusion for the building's roof. And for the rappelling down.
Still, they knew what they were doing. "Clear," she announced,
"Gotcha!" The general replied.
A moment later, the ramp was lowered, and Sam barely heard feet - and claws - on the metal surface before the shuttle's system informed her that they had jumped off.
"You know, seeing this makes the CIA look a little less stupid for trying their ESP experiments in the 70s," the General commented. "I wonder if they found a way to make it work this time, with magic returned."
Sam made a noncommittal noise and focused on her screen before he could find a way to make her hack the CIA to search for such programs.
She was sure that they were running more than one, anyway. As would be any other intel agency. Even the FBI, actually.
She frowned. That was the only threat she could imagine to this operation. But they hadn't found any hint of such a program being run here in Washington - all such research was supposed to be conducted in Quantico.
J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington D.C., United States of America, December 4th, 1999
Catra slid down the rappelling rope and landed lightly on her feet on the roof of the FBI headquarters. Melog didn't bother with the rope at all and simply jumped down the few metres from the shuttle ramp.
"Show off," she whispered and felt their amusement and some smugness in return.
The light's hue showed that they were inside an illusion of an empty roof right now. And above a half-empty building - it was Saturday, and most people didn't work on Saturday or Sunday. At least if they were working for the FBI.
Catra was glad of that - it made her mission easier. Usually, with a building that size, she'd sneak through the air vents - using the hallways and taking out whoever you met before they could sound the alarm was not possible since there could be no sign of their intrusion at all. But with Melog's help, they could just go down the facade and break through a window. No one would see them.
No challenge.
"The challenge is finding proof," she whispered. Any proof useful for stopping this plot.
She peered over the edge of the roof. "Coast's clear."
Melog moved the illusion - Catra could tell from the way the light just changed a little bit in her sight - while she fastened the rope to the roof. She could hear Entrpata's voice in her kind as she used the self-adhesive option of the rope: 'It's the new and improved self-dissolving climbing rope mark II - this one won't dissolve spontaneously; well, it didn't so far in testing without the correct catalyst - and you can use a different catalysator to make it self-adhesive! Either the rope or the material you attach it to will break before the adhesive!' Jack had ordered a cargo container's worth of the rope for his troops. But his expression when Catra had asked what the troops would get up to with the adhesive rope in their spare time…
Focus on the mission, she told herself as she slid over the roof's edge and down the facade. She reached Wilkinson's office in no time and perched on the windowsill while she peered inside. There he was, shuffling papers on his desk. Which was placed so she couldn't see what he was reading from her point of view.
Well, they already knew he was competent. And a workaholic. No partner, no kids, and distant parents - which was a point in his favour, said parents being part of a rather bigoted community according to their research, while Wilkinson himself hadn't visited a church unless it had been for a wedding or a funeral ever since he had left his home town.
Waiting. Busywork.
Oh? Catra's ears perked up. That was interesting. Busywork on a Saturday? And waiting for something or someone? Time to get to work! They weren't here to spy through windows; any drone could have done that.
She quickly climbed up and then over to the next office, resisting the urge to use her claws. Leaving suits and gauges in the facade would be a clear sign she had been there.
This office was empty, as expected, and she quickly had the security disabled and the window opened. Bracing herself, she held out her arms and whispered 'Ready" through her comm.
Coming.
A few moments later, Melog came down the rope, changing forms into a slinkier form before reverting back once they could jump off and into the office.
Catra used the catalysator pen to dissolve the rope before closing the windows, watching for a moment while the rope seemed to fade from view, turning into smoke that blew away in the light breeze.
Messy.
Yeah, the desk was messy. But it was not very interesting - the files belonged to some boring financial case or something. Nothing related to their investigation. They had checked beforehand.
They had picked this office since it was next to Wilkinson's - and because the owner was messy. Which meant they would be very unlikely to notice a few well-hidden changes to their office walls.
She pulled a set of tools out of her belt and started to drill, or 'etch' according to Entrapta, who had made them - through the wall. Silent even to her ears, there was no way Wilkinson would hear that. And since the hole wouldn't go all through, he couldn't spot it either.
A few minutes later, she slid the bug into the hole, plugging it with a battery that would last years and some plaster. "Done!"
Visitor.
Oh? Perfect timing, then! Catra would have hated to wait for hours for whatever Wilkinson was expecting to turn up. Almost as much as she would have hated to sit through an Asgard Epic. Poor Adora.
She grinned and switched her communicator to the bug's frequency. Not even regular Alliance scanners would detect that both Entrapta and Sam had assured her, and since they had created said scanners, they would know.
She heard someone knock on the door, followed by Wilkinson snapping: "Come in!"
"Wilkinson."
"Paris."
A female voice. They and Wilkinson sounded… familiar. But not too friendly.
The door closed. Footsteps. Lighter ones than Wilkinson's.
"You know the brass still isn't convinced we're ready for work. We're still training. And experimenting."
"Consider this training, then."
"I'm saying that I don't have any experience with this. Not a little - none, Wilkinson."
"You already told me that."
"Just clarifying it again."
Wilkinson snorted, but it didn't sound as if he was actually amused. "You don't need to cover your ass with me. The brass isn't convinced your work can be used in court. And they won't be convinced until the Supreme Court approves it. But I won't need this for evidence. All I need is additional security."
Catra heard the woman snort. "I'd say you're paranoid, but… this isn't for your official case, is it?"
"Safer if you don't know. It might damage your career if you knew and were caught."
"Then I'll find something else. In case you missed it, anyone with a talent for magic is currently headhunted by everyone. I could be making the big bucks in no time, Wilkinson."
"And yet, you stayed with the FBI."
Catra hissed. A sorceress? And Wilkinson wanted her for 'security'?
They hadn't planned for that!
Problem.
Definitely a problem, yes. If she could spot illusions… Catra pressed her lips together. They didn't know much about Earth magic - no one did. But two things had been observed so far. Earth magic often dealt with 'spirits' and similar beings or things conjured to do something, like the Wild Hunt. And all the myths about guardian and vengeance spirits. And the other thing was subtle stuff, like curses that brought you bad luck or sickness. Either possibility was bad news.
"Because they won't expect me to fight aliens with my mind."
Wilkinson snorted again. "But they could probably offer better training."
"Not according to what I heard."
"And what did you hear?"
"That the aliens have no idea about what magic we can do, and so can't train us any better than anyone else."
Catra frowned. The Alliance really needed to get their act together and start training sorceresses.
"Well, it's your career. Your decision," Wilkinson said. "I'm just a special agent on a case."
"On an unofficial case where you fear magical interference. Did you go through the X-Files?"
X-Files? Catra frowned. She would have to look those up. This sounded important.
"No. I'm investigating a case of corruption."
Or not, Catra corrected herself.
"And you think magic is involved, or you wouldn't have called me. No - you want additional security. You think someone might use magic to interfere with your investigation!" After a moment, Paris continued: "Oh, don't make such a face! Anyone could have deduced that!"
"It's safer if you don't know the details. I just need some way to keep magic off me."
"'Keep magic off you'? That's a big thing, Wilkinson. Ever since the first news of killing spirits, everyone wants a way to stop them. But no one knows how to do it."
"No one?" Wilkinson sounded sceptical.
"It's hard to test things. We've got several potential ways to block curses, but we don't know anyone who can curse people to test it."
"I'm volunteering. Can't hurt to try, at least."
Paris scoffed. "Oh, you sweet summer child - it very well can hurt. That much we know."
"I trust you."
"I always knew you were an idiot."
Catra snorted softly. She knew that tone. Those two had history.
After another moment of silence, Wilkinson asked: "So, what can the best witch of the FBI do against magic?"
"I'm not a witch. I am a thaumaturgist."
"That's what they're going with?"
"They hope it won't piss off the crazies as much as 'witch' would since it also has religious connotations."
Wilkinson scoffed. "As someone raised by such crazies, trust me when I tell you it won't help."
"I know. But our boss thinks he can have a magic division without the religious right frothing at the mouth about satanic government spooks. Even though we've recruited a priest recently."
"Really? A priest?" Wilkinson laughed.
"An exorcist. As a consultant."
"I'm starting to have doubts about this…"
"He's actually very nice. And he knows a lot that might turn out to be working now that we have magic back."
Wilkinson scoffed. "Don't come crying if he tries to burn you at the stake."
"Oh, stop it! The Pope himself has said that magic was God's creation, so it's not inherently evil. Any good Catholic knows that now."
Wilkinson scoffed again. "So, what can you do for me? Pray for my soul?"
"Do you want my help or not? I can do something more productive on a Saturday than listen to you regurgitate your childhood trauma."
"Sorry." Wilkinson didn't sound sorry. "I need whatever magic you can do."
"And what I can do depends on what we're facing. You mentioned 'interference'. What kind of threat are we talking about? Curses? Spirits?"
Catra cocked her head.
After a second, Wilkinson answered: "I don't know exactly. Any kind is possible."
"Any kind?" Paris sounded annoyed. "Don't give me that bullshit. I know you. You wouldn't have called me if you didn't have something more concrete."
A sigh followed. "I'm investigating a corruption case with an Etherian connection."
"Shit."
Catra suppressed a snort. Well, they already knew that, but it was nice to have confirmation.
"Yeah. So… anything is possible if I get too close. I could trip over a vine and break my neck. Or freeze to death in my bedroom."
"What the hell are you investigating? That sounds like…"
"Yeah. Corruption at the highest level. I've got an informant in the army, and the things he told me…"
"The Etherians all have diplomatic immunity. What do you think you can do?"
"The Etherians might have diplomatic immunity, but their business partners on Earth don't. And those are profiting from the corruption."
"Shit. You really meant the highest levels."
"I told you it would have been better if you didn't know. If you want to back out…"
"You know me better than that."
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
Catra heard Paris take a deep breath. "Alright. Let's start with basic charms of protection against curses. We haven't been able to test them, but we've got the wording confirmed from different sources - thanks to Father Ryan, actually. So… just relax and let me work."
That sounded like an excellent opportunity to exfiltrate to Catra. Get back to the shuttle while the FBI sorceress was busy casting whatever on Wilkinson.
She turned to look at Melog and nodded. "Time to move."
Yes.
Above Washington D.C., United States of America, December 4th, 1999
"So, my office is now protected against magic?"
"It's supposed to be protected against evil magic as the ancient Romans considered it. We haven't actually been able to test that since we don't have anyone who can do evil magic."
"You don't?"
"We're the FBI, Wilkinson. Not the CIA."
"Point. And I guess you don't want to ask them for help testing this since that would give away that the FBI is building up a magic division."
"Yes."
"So much for the spirit of cooperation in the face of a shared enemy."
"That didn't work with the USSR, so why would it work with aliens?"
"Right. Anyway, thank you for doing this for me."
"We don't know if what I did is actually working. I did something - I can feel it lingering - but I can't promise it will protect you against Etherian magic."
"It's better than nothing."
"You still know how to make a woman feel appreciated, Wilkinson."
Jack O'Neill snorted. He wished the two FBI spooks would talk about the unofficial investigation Wilkinson was apparently running, but at least their banter was entertaining - and offered insight into the FBI's magic program.
"You know, I thought the whole 'our real enemies are the other American intelligence agencies' was just a TV thing," Catra commented from behind him.
He checked the autopilot - still set on automatic evasion should a plane or shuttle approach - and then headed back to Carter's station. "It's the capitalist way - a healthy competition keeps everyone sharp."
"Having your intel organisations run secret programs without oversight or control doesn't sound healthy to me," Catra retorted.
"It's healthy for certain people," Jack said. "For their bank account and influence, at least."
"That sounds like that corruption the guy was talking about."
"Yep."
Catra rolled her eyes. And Carter was staring a bit too intently at her laptop - even though Jack's shuttle had a holoprojector; it was great for briefings, and Jack was looking forward to movie nights once Hollywood got the hang of actual 3D-movies. Or someone started making games for it. But the FBI agents were still talking.
"So, who are you investigating?"
"Paris! You don't want to get involved in this any more than you are already, trust me."
"I'm already involved too much. You know that the kind of people you were talking about won't really stop with you if things go wrong. And if they find out about you, they'll find out about me as well."
Jack grinned. That was exactly what they were hoping for! "Yeah, Wilkinson, tell her everything about your investigation!" he muttered. "Leave nothing out!"
Catra snorted at that, and he heard Carter chuckle briefly, but he was focused on the two FBI spooks.
Wilkinson sighed. "Alright. I've got a source in the Alliance high command who stumbled upon hints of corruption. Misuse of military assets for private gain, nepotism, illegal operations, both authorised and unauthorised, smuggling and trading favours."
Business as usual, in other words, Jack thought with another snort. But he had thought they had done a decent job keeping that stuff down to trivial levels.
"A source?"
"Yes. An old friend of the old director. They contacted me."
"And asked you to investigate this on your own time?"
"That was my decision."
"And no one who knew you could have ever predicted that, right, Wilkinson?"
"Still my decision."
"It's your career."
"Damn right."
"So, you're investigating corrupt generals and magical princesses."
"Yes."
"And I thought becoming an FBI Thaumaturgist was weird."
"I've investigated Saudi princes and princesses before."
"And that investigation was shut down by the government."
"This one won't."
"And what makes you think that, Wilkinson?"
"The government stepped on too many toes to get into the Alliance. People went along with it because they had to, but they didn't like it. All the new laws, the constitutional amendment, magic and gay marriage… A lot of people are waiting for a chance to strike back."
"I didn't take you for a bigot, Wilkinson."
"I'm not a bigot. What people do in their own bedrooms is their business. And I don't give a damn about the Bible. But I am not blind to the fact that many people do have issues with all the changes that were forced on us."
"And you want to use them? You know how that usually turns out."
"All I want is criminals brought to justice, Paris. And justice is blind."
"And that's the corniest line I've heard in months," Jack commented. "And I work with magical princesses."
"I'll tell Adora you said that," Catra said.
"Do it. I am sure she can need the laughs." The Asgard were proving to be frustrating guests, as Jack had heard.
"Whatever. So, what are you investigating?"
"Smuggling. Earth media are the hottest thing in Etheria, and that means merchandise brings more money than drugs. And Earth is crazy for anything magical."
"But the only way to transfer goods is through the Stargate - or by spaceship, but a trip to Etheria takes weeks."
"Exactly. But if you control the Stargate and the fleet, that's not a problem. And guess who managed to get a personal stealth shuttle for private use? The former second-in-command of Stargate Command!"
Jack blinked. "They think I am smuggling movie merchandise in my shuttle? They think I am corrupt?"
"Well, we're currently using your 'private' shuttle." Catra shrugged at Jack's glare. "The other generals are probably just jealous they can't use a stealth shuttle to make money."
"I am not using the shuttle to make money!" Jack spat.
But some people would think he was.
Royal Palace, Bright Moon, Etheria, December 4th, 1999 (Earth Time)
"It seems Asgard and Etherian culture is more different than we expected."
Adora pressed her lips together and reminded herself that honesty was the best policy before she nodded. Thor was right, anyway. "I fear so."
"I wouldn't say that," Bow said. "Etheria has a very diverse culture. Of course, fundamental aspects are shared by every kingdom, but every kingdom has unique cultural expressions and styles. We just haven't found the kingdoms whose people like Asgard epics. I mean, really like - it's not that they are disliked or anything, really!"
He meant well, but he wasn't a good liar - his smile looked as forced as it had when they had visited his dads for the first time, Adora noticed.
And Thor hadn't been there, but he must have noticed something since he tilted his head slightly and stared at Bow with an expression that would likely have included raised eyebrows if Asgard had them. "And yet, according to what we were told, Earth media is 'all the rage' across Etheria. It seems your planet's cultures share this as well."
"Well…" Bow winced.
"We can't be sure that everyone thinks your finest epics are boring until we've got enough data to make such a conclusion!" Entrapta cut in. "Our sample size is not large enough, and the people present today were not chosen at random either, so this is not representative."
Freyr made a snorting sound. "Correct me if I am wrong, but I assume that you picked people you thought would favour us."
"We did?" Entrapta looked at Glimmer, then at Adora.
Adora winced. "Yes, we did." She reminded herself again that honesty was the best policy. "We wouldn't pick people who disliked the Asgard."
"Oh? I thought you might have hoped that if even people who were prejudiced against Asgard were won over, it would have made a great impression." Entrapta nodded. "But even so, we need a larger sample size to draw sufficiently solid conclusions from this. It's not like we have data from past samples to extrapolate from - we're breaking new ground here!"
"And," Freyr went on with a kind of smile, "the reason you invited us to visit your planet wasn't to make your people like our epics but to show us your civilisation and build trust."
Well, he was right, but it would have been a great help if Etherians liked Asgard culture. Adora smiled anyway.
"Well, at least this shows that we're honest," Bow said.
Thor frowned at him. "It has to be weighed against, and judged in light of, the circumstances of your involvement with Loki."
Adora winced again. If they had been honest with the Asgard from the start… But that would have meant breaking their deal with Loki. In hindsight, they should have looked into the whole matter a bit more before making a deal, but… If people needed help, and you could help them, you helped them.
"Anyway," Glimmer spoke up, "thank you for your performance. We learned something about each other."
"Yes, we did." Freyr nodded again.
"And tomorrow, we'll visit the Scorpion Kingdom so you can see a completely different culture!" Entrapta said. "I'm sure you'll like it!"
Adora nodded in agreement even though she wasn't so sure any more.
Fifteen minutes later, she entered her room, sighing.
"I guess the performance went over as expected."
Catra! Adora beamed at her lover and quickly moved to the bed on which Catra was lounging. "You're back!"
"Obviously."
"You didn't tell me!"
"I didn't want to disturb your diplomatic event. And I arrived only fifteen minutes ago."
"Ah." But she had had enough time to change into her sleepwear.
"You can set me down now, by the way."
"Mhh." Adora held her a bit tighter and took a deep breath with her face pressed against Catra's cheek. And she had taken a shower as well - Adora could smell the shampoo.
"If I have to wriggle out of your arms, your dress might not survive."
Adora was briefly tempted to let her do it. Losing her clothes sounded very attractive right now, with her lover in her arms. But that would be a waste - Glimmer's tailor had worked hard on this dress.
So she released Catra and sat down on the bed. "Yes, things didn't go as we hoped. No one liked the epic."
"Nice to hear Bright Moon's population has good taste."
Adora snorted - weakly - at that, then sighed again. "They know we find them boring."
"They're not dumb."
"How did your day go?"
"Oh, Melog and I had a successful mission. We found out that a rogue FBI agent is investigating Jack for corruption based on General Smith's information."
Adora blinked. "What?"
Alliance Headquarters, Brussels, Belgium, December 5th, 1999
"...and they honestly think you're corrupt?"
Adora sounded incredulous, Samantha Carter noted. Her friend looked like she wanted to pace, but even the General's large office felt a little crowded right now, with 'SG-1 Plus' as he liked to call their old team and Sha're, and the 'Best Friends Squad' and Entrapta present. At least they hadn't tried to get Emily inside - the bot was guarding the parking lot right now. However, Entrapta had assured everyone that she was listening in through her sensor tool.
Sam had already mentally prepared a response to the General's inevitable request to harden his office's anti-eavesdropping protection after that revelation.
"Well, we don't know if Smith honestly thinks I am corrupt," the General replied. "But Wilkinson sure does - unless he's such a good actor, he should replace Mr Blackmail on the next big-ticket movie. But if he were any good at acting, he wouldn't have been sidelined in the FBI and treated like a rogue agent."
"But why?" Adora shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. You haven't done anything."
"And nothing was planted on you," Catra added. "Or in your home. Or as your home."
"How do you plant a home on someone?" Entrapta asked.
"You register them as the owner," Catra explained.
"Oh! Did someone hack your government databases and add your name to some properties?" Entrapta leaned forward. "That would be possible, I think, if they don't check with the owner."
That was a possibility, Sam had to admit. Not something as blatant as adding the General's name, but if someone used a shell company or two and built up a convincing set of layers that made it look as if it was meant to hide the actual owner… It was a common way to cheat on taxes. She would have to look into that.
The General frowned - he would have come to the same conclusion. "If this is a frame-up, then they could have done this. And if they pointed the IRS as well as the FBI at it…"
"Oh! That would be great!" Entrapta beamed, and Sam blinked for a moment. Why would her friend think that? "The lack of a central registry for all land ownership in your country is a bit bothersome - you should really organise such a database, you know, it would be so much more efficient - because we would have to hack so many places, but if the IRS is involved, we can just hack their computers!"
Ah. Sam suppressed another sigh. Her friend's logic was… Well, it wasn't as if Entrapta was wrong, but she tended to see any problem as a technical challenge and ignored the ethical and legal aspects. Or the political dimension.
"Hacking the IRS?" The General raised his eyebrows and glanced at Sam.
"I believe there are alternatives to such a course of action, sir," she told him. Not very efficient ones, though.
"Really?" Entrapta frowned a little.
"Well, we don't know if whoever is behind this would go that far," Daniel said. "Or if they have the resources for that. Although if Kinsey is involved…"
Sha're frowned. "If your rival is moving against you, why would he bother with such a ploy? He would know he needs to kill you to be safe from retaliation as long as you have the backing of the Princess Alliance, and your friends won't be fooled by this plot. If he has to kill you anyway, this plot will only serve as a warning for you to prepare for an assassination attempt, negating any usefulness it might have as a distraction."
"Indeed."
Sam reminded herself that Sha're had, as a helpless passenger while her body had been controlled by Amaunet, been a witness to politics in the highest sphere of the Goa'uld Empire. Obviously, this had left an impression similar to Teal'c's experiences as Aphophis's First Prime.
"Ah, yeah, that sounds like something Kinsey might think," the General said, looking a bit surprised himself at Sha're's thoughts, "but he probably would be wary of the possible consequences if I get killed and he was involved."
"But wouldn't he also be wary of the consequences of framing you for corruption?" Sha're retorted.
"Yes, he would," the General agreed. "Which is why I don't think that's the NIDs work. It just looks a bit too… amateurish to me. They tend to hide their tracks a bit better when they do stuff like this. Unless they set off Smith and let him do the work without realising that he's being manipulated."
"But without fake evidence, Wilkinson won't find anything," Adora said with a frown. "So, why would he do this?"
Sam smiled a little. Her Etherian friends weren't naive, but they had a different view of how things were run.
"Ah, it's not as if there's nothing suspicious if you look at it from the right - or wrong - angle," Daniel said, pushing his glasses up.
"Definitely the wrong angle, Daniel," the General cut in.
"What?" the Etherians were staring at Daniel, then at the General.
"Ah…" Daniel blushed a little. "From the point of view of someone who would abuse their position for personal gain, or someone who is used to dealing with such people, Jack would look suspicious. Not just because he managed to get a Stealth Shuttle for personal use."
"I need it for work," the General retorted. "If I had to go through the Space Force every time I needed one, I'd never get anything done. And it's owned by the Alliance, not me."
Sam refrained from pointing out that he also used the Shuttle as a personal craft when it wasn't used by his command.
"And why shouldn't you have a personal Stealth Shuttle if you wanted one?" Entrapta asked. "It would be a gift from your friends, namely us! And refusing gifts from your friends would be rude!"
The rest of the Etherians looked as if they agreed, with the possible exception of Catra, Sam noted.
"Ah… accepting gifts is actually a bit of a problem for many people in positions of authority or power." Daniel smiled weakly. "Or, well, it should be - and with good reason. Because accepting a gift often implies an obligation to reciprocate, and that could be problematic if they, ah, returned the favour, abusing their power."
"Then you punish them if they do that. Problem solved," Glimmer said. "Why would you punish someone for accepting a gift if there's no actual corruption?"
"It's also, ah, about the appearance of corruption," Daniel said. "If people think you are corrupt, their trust in you and your organisation tends to weaken."
"Wouldn't they trust their princess to check? Or is this another problem with democracy?" Entrapta asked.
Yes, their Etherian friends saw things quite differently, Sam reminded herself as Daniel continued to explain the way corruption worked on Earth. They didn't quite understand how people could think the General was corrupt just because he used a shuttle for private purposes.
