Ship of the Line: Far Traveler

by Worldmaker

My response to Zaion's Ship of the Line challenge on Twisting the Hellmouth. The Scoobies wake up after Halloween to find themselves in orbit, at the controls of a powerful warship from a thousand years in the future. How will their new circumstances affect a 21st Century Earth that is already embroiled in a secret interstellar war? Rated M for mature language and situations.

3. Negotiations

Chapter Three: Negotiations

xxxXXxxx

"There are only ever two methods for ending conflicts, violence and negotiation. Violence is for wild beasts. Negotiating is for human beings." – Marcus Tellus Cicero, Roman Consul, circa 50 BCE

xxxXXxxx

Stargate Program Base, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
November 1, 1997

10:02:02 GMT

"No sir… No sir… yes, sir, I am sure of that. While there is a risk, I don't think our new visitors are an immediate threat."

The general looked up as his door opened, revealing the face of his second in command, Colonel O'Neill. The Colonel, taking note of the fact that the general was talking on the red phone – the hotline that put him in direct contact with the President of the United States – quirked an eyebrow at the general, who waved him in.
As a result, Jack O'Neill got to witness a decidedly one-sided conversation.

"Well, sir, you have to understand… yes, sir. You see, sir, they made a request for assistance from our government, citing damage to their ship and a massive loss of life. On behalf of you and the government, and in compliance with US law and international treaty regarding ships in distress, I've offered them the aid they're seeing, or at least part of it."

"The law in question doesn't specify ocean-going ships, sir. Besides, we have a similar treaty with… yes, sir, back during the Apollo days."

There was a pause, during which the general was nodding his head, despite the fact that the president couldn't see the gesture. "The Moon Treaty, exactly, sir."

"That's something I'd have to ask Doctor Jackson to explain to you, sir, but he seems to think that these people's ancestors originated in some English speaking culture. We have a sample of their written language, and it looks eerily close to English, with what Doctor Jackson calls 'stylistic differences' between our alphabet and theirs. He figured out how to read it pretty quickly."

"Well, sir, I wish I could say otherwise, but Captain Samson made it clear that… what's that, sir?"

"Yes, sir. Samson. Like from the Bible."

"It is a funny coincidence, sir, I agree. But it's hardly the first example of that sort of thing happening. There was that one time we… no, you're right, sir. I apologize."

"I don't know, sir. We're going to be contacting them again shortly. I'll add that to my list of questions. Yes, sir. Thank you. Mister President." The general paused, allowing the president to hang up first. Even if both sides knew the conversation was over, you simply did not hang up on the President of the United States.

The general sighed and lay the phone's receiver in its cradle before turning his attention to the Colonel.

"Funny coincidence, General?"

"The fact that the Captain of the Far Traveler is named 'Samson' like the character from the Bible. The president wondered if – since they seem to have descended from a culture that spoke English, and relatively recently at that – their society still had some form of Christianity."

O'Neill rolled his eyes. He'd been raised Episcopalian, but it hadn't stuck, and Jack was now a confirmed atheist. And while he would defend a person's right to believe as they wished – he might be an atheist, but it wasn't his place to tell other people they were wrong about a non-existent God unless they got in his face about it, or did something stupid like tried to teach their crap in place of actual science at the local High School - it irritated him to see politicians pandering to superstitious yahoos who still believed in that hoodoo crap.

But what could you do, right?

xxxXXxxx

In Earth Orbit, 823 km Above Sunnydale, California
November 1, 1997

10:14:38 GMT

When operating a ship's transmat system, the most visible effect is the flare of light that accompanies the people being transported. The passengers themselves never see it; to them, one moment they're in one location, the next they are on the transport pad. The process isn't quite instantaneous externally – that is, to anyone watching the process it takes about half a second from the beginning of the light flare to the appearance, or disappearance depending, of the passengers. But again, the passengers never notice.

The light flare is why the operator's station in the transmat room is shielded by a floor-to-ceiling polarized screen that blocked the light flare and thus prevents the operator from being blinded, even if temporarily. The screen looked like glass, but like all other transparent surfaces, windows, and viewports on the ship it was made of a near-unbreakable diamond lattice.

"… why most of the ship is empty. We have no idea why we were the only members of the crew who remained when the spell ended, but everyone else just vanished into thin air." Xander was saying. "One second, Giles." Xander turned to Andrew, who was at the controls. "Anything happen while we were planet-side?"

"Not really, sir." Andrew said. "I think Jonathan… I meant Lieutenant Brandenburger, wants to talk to you."

"Cool. Maybe he's found something." Xander nodded.

"Found something?" Giles asked.

"Yeah, the first time we were contacted by the Air Force – when they demanded we talk to them, that is – the general in charge mentioned that he was with some group called 'Stargate Command.' He also mentioned that they – the Stargate group – had previous encounters with extraterrestrial species. I don't know about you guys, but I don't remember any announcements about meeting aliens on Channel 3 news back when I was just Xander the Slacker."

"What?" Joyce and Giles both exclaimed, shocked by the revelation.

"The US Air Force has been in contact with aliens, Mom." Buffy said. "And they never told anyone anything about it."

"On top of it all, it's all very classified. I don't know about you, but I find that very intriguing and worth looking into." Xander grinned. "It was this Stargate Command and not, say. NASA or UNOOSA, or even Roscosmos who contacted us gives me the willies, a bit. Add to that the fact that we tracked them down to Cheyenne Mountain - one of the most secretive and protected military bases on the planet…"

"Yes, that does sound bad." Joyce said, and Giles nodded.

"Right? Why headquarter a space program inside a mountain? Deep inside, in fact." Xander asked.

Giles thought about it. "Either you're doing something you don't want anyone to know about, or you're doing something dangerous. Or both."

"Precisely my thought, too." Xander said. "I had Dawn perform a slurp on them. Basically, made a copy of their entire database and then erased her tracks completely. Given the difference in computing power, they might have noticed something happening, but I doubt they'd immediately jump to 'the aliens hacked our computers.' I've had Jonathan searching through the data we retrieved trying to get details on what they are up to since we left. Sounds like he found something."

Xander turned to Willow and Buffy. "You two get Giles and Joyce situated. Give them a tour, even. We've got about forty minutes before we need to talk to the general again. I'll be on the bridge, talking to Jonathan. Mrs. Summers, Giles, we'll want to have Dr. Gibbs look you over, but that can wait until you've got some rest. I'm sure you've been up for hours."

"You want your doctor to… what… give us a checkup?" Giles asked, the snark just barely under control.

Xander paused. "Yes. Frankly, I'm not sure how far the spell that turned us into these future people changed us, and you might be carrying bacteria and so on we no longer have resistances for. The same could apply in reverse. Also, to be blunt, 20th Century medicine is hardly state of the art to us and giving you a checkup is just good sense. How'd you like to ditch those glasses once and for all?"

"You can do that?" Giles asked.

Xander just nodded. "Lastly, I'm going to have Dr. Gibbs set you up with the basic ICS recruit's package. It includes some gene boosts that will add to your disease resistance, make you heal a bit faster, and generally make you feel years younger. Uh… I'd also like to get you two fitted with a comms implant so you can keep in touch with us no matter the circumstance. Maybe the microcomp implant as well.

"Wait… a comms implant?" Joyce asked. "You want to put some sort of device in our bodies?"

"It's three disks about the size of a watch battery apiece." Willow said. She turned and brushed her hair out of the way, then bent her left ear downward just a touch. There, on the side of her head just behind her ear, were three small bumps. "It's a sort of multi-channel radio, as well as a locator beacon and an automatic translator for any of the known languages."

"Does it hurt?" Joyce asked. Giles only response was a quiet. "Hmmm."

"Not at all, and it takes just a couple of seconds – not counting the calibration time, which only takes a couple of minutes." Willow smiled at her. "Trust me, its fine. And it's one of those standard things all adults get when they live in the ICS."

"And the microcomp?" Joyce asked, still worried.

"It's short for microcomputer. It's sort of like having a small computer device with you all at the same time. It's got limited capacity, but its still useful." Willow waved her right hand over her left wrist and suddenly a small holographic interface appeared above the end of her left arm. "I can send text messages, take photos, play short videos, play music, there's a calendar schedule, an alarm clock, a calculator… I can even play simple video games on this thing."

"Plus," Xander said, activating his own, "in a pinch it'll connect you to the Far Traveler's computer systems if you're in range. It doesn't take long to implant, since it's all microcircuitry that fits just under the skin, and it's perfectly safe."

"You're sure?" Giles asked.

Xander just nodded. "Trust us. It'll be fine." When no one said anything further, Xander nodded. "Right. So, Willow, Buffy, like I said. If you could get Mrs. S and Giles to the Medical Bay, and then once you're done there set them up in quarters…" Xander left the rest of it unsaid. He turned and headed for the door.

"You got it, boss." Willow said as Xander exited the room. She and Buffy turned to the two older adults.

"I must admit having that young man in control of anything is a bit disturbing to me," Giles sighed.

"I keep telling you, we're not exactly the same people we were." Buffy said. "The changes weren't just physical. Our personalities have been affected. Our knowledge bases. We're not kids anymore."

Giles gave his Slayer a quick glance, taking in her new, alien appearance. "Believe me, I am aware. If nothing else, your diction and elocution have all improved immeasurably."

"Come on, Giles, we weren't that bad," Buffy protested, a small smile creeping into her expression.

"I will refrain from scoffing in the interest of time. Now, where is this hospital of yours?" Like the gentleman he was, Giles gestured the ladies to the door, letting them know that they could precede him.

"The medical bay takes up most of Deck 22 of the control dome. We can talk some more on the way. From here the ride in the elevator is about eight minutes." Willow said, leading the way.

"The ship is that tall?" Joyce asked. In her head, she was suddenly equating the starship with a skyscraper.

"Oh no, that's not it at all." Willow grinned. "It's that the ship is that long. As the crow flies – well, no, the crow would have to fly through space and it would die, so… uh.. .as the rocket? No that is even worse. Look, what I mean is, by straight-line distance we are like… half a kilometer away from the medical deck."

"Really? That is astonishing. A spaceship that size…" Giles pondered.

"Yeah. Its like science fiction in real life, isn't it?" Buffy said as the doors closed behind them, Andrew in the tail-end-Charlie position.

The trip in the tram-lift from what they had started calling the transporter room to the bridge was going to take a few minutes. It gave Xander some time to think. He would have to talk to the Air Force guys again soon, and he just wasn't looking forward to that at all. He'd floated the lie about being from the future, but that was going to fall apart sooner or later; if this Stargate Command was really some sort of exploration program, and if the Air Force had already run into aliens, they were going to wonder why they hadn't run into the Pelkons, or the Tautiq, or the Gulavan, or any of the other species in the Far Traveler's database.

Then there were all the other things he and the others would need to figure out. A crew of ten thousand or so just vanishing into thin air, one minute there, the next minute gone. Dawn made it possible to run the ship with a minimal crew, but eventually they'd need replacing, and unfortunately, unless Xander ventured out and made contact with some friendly technological civilization where he could get some volunteers, it was looking as if there was only one place to get replacements.

He immediately dismissed the Earth's various militaries as a source of recruits. Such people could be easily retrained, but there was no telling how many of them would secretly be agents of their governments looking for an opportunity to abscond with ICS technology, if not take the ship entirely. Maybe start with high school kids.

The tram-lift passed through a part of its tube that showed clear diamond-glass, allowing the rider to see the vast emptiness of space. After a second, it re-entered the closed hull of the ship, heading deeper into the control dome. "Huh." Xander suddenly said to himself. "Maybe high school students; they are easy to train, right? I mean a hundred thousand fast food joints can't be wrong, right?. No, that would cause complications." He scratched the side of his neck for a moment. "Of course, no one said we have to restrict recruitment to just American high school students…"

"Sir? You're talking to yourself." Dawn's voice broke in from the ceiling, where the speakers were located. "Did you need something? Are you in distress"

"Uh, no, Dawn, its okay." Xander grinned at himself. "Just thinking to myself. I was wondering if any of them were out there."

"Any of who, sir?"

"Oh, you know… the Pelkons. The Gulavan. Heck, the Tonalse. Just wondering if any of them existed in this universe for real."

"Ah." Dawn was silent for a moment. Then, "You know, sir, we could easily go and check."

"I'll consider it. Thank you, Dawn." Xander said, as the trans-lift stopped, doors opening onto the bridge.

Jonathan was the only person present other than the service drones, who – being little more than highly advanced virtual intelligences, did not really count as people. He clapped the young man on the shoulder and asked, "So, Jono… Andrew said you had something for me?"

"I do, boss, yeah." Jonathan nodded and began tapping away at his work-station's terminal. "So I've been having Dawn run keyword searches on the data we slurped from these Stargate people. Turns out they've been doing that trick where they try to run before they learn to walk."

"Okay, that rarely works out well. What are they up to?" Xander leaned over Jonathan's shoulder to get a better look at the information Jono was pulling up.

"Check it out," Jonathan gestured to a particular paragraph. "They told us that they were using the miniature Tonalse ring to explore the galaxy? What they did not mention was they managed to get into a shooting war with an alien race whose technology is a whole lot more advanced than earth-standard. Not only that, this race they are fighting is ultra-aggressive, highly xenophobic, and oh yeah – bonus points – they are a parasitic life-form who take over human hosts and wear them like suits. Look at this." Jonathan pulled up a set of images in a new window, the old one automatically sliding to the side to make room.

"What the hell am I looking at, here?" Xander asked. "Looks like a big worm or something, but it's got… like… spikes, and teeth."

It's basically a big worm, but with spikes and teeth," Jonathan nodded. "According to SG-1's database, they call themselves 'Goa'ulds.' They invade a victim's body – the mouth or the back of the neck, usually – where it wraps itself around the spinal cord and brain stem of the victim, and then exerts control over said victim. As far as the SG-1 know, no one whose been invaded by one of these things has ever successfully resisted control, and once inside there, they're pretty much impossible to remove through any means available to 20th Century medicine."

"How so?" Xander asked.

"Uh… it was here a minute ago. Ah, right here." Jonathan again tapped the display, bringing up some more text. "Poison. They can voluntarily release a poison into the victim's tissues, killing them."

"Okay, that's gross and horrifying." Xander straightened. He glanced at the nearest chair, which was on the next workstation over, a good three feet away. The chair was secured to the floor, naturally, because the last thing anyone needed in a battle situation was a loose piece of furniture flying around when the ship lost gravity. But his back was aching, and he wanted to sit down, so he sat.

"You mentioned they were aggressive and xenophobic?' Xander prompted.

"Yeah, mega-aggressive and so xenophobic a Klansman would ask them what the fuck. From what SG-1's records say, these people don't believe in diplomacy. To these worms, you're either a superior or you're an inferior, and they don't see anything but each other as superior. Diplomacy requires a recognition of common ground and equality. These guys refuse to do that. To them, humanity is just another population of livestock."

Xander made a face. "How charming. And SG-1 declared war on these guys?"

"Yeah, by not just standing by and letting the worms do whatever they wanted. To the worms, the word "no" is a declaration of war, so, you know." Jonathan shrugges, then continued. "And you're going to love this next part. Apparently these Goa'ulds rule the galaxy, or at least most of it. They use their higher technology to pretend to be gods and are actually worshiped by the more primitive populations out there." Jonathan waved vaguely at the viewscreen.

The viewscreen was displaying a background image of the Hand of God nebula overlaid with a window that displayed a view of the earth, as well as another window which had a navigational course-line through nearspace. Pretty standard for when the ship was in orbit around a friendly planet with no threats present.

"They rule the entire galaxy, and they do it by pretending to be gods?" Xander asked to confirm.

"Yep." Jonathan nodded again. "Most of the planets SG-1 had visited have been inhabited by very low tech people, and by people, I mean Humans taken from Earth in the distant past. Bronze and Iron Age technology at most. There's a report in here by a Doctor Daniel Jackson in which he theorizes that the Goa'uld…"

"Let me guess. The worms like to make sure their cattle don't get too uppity, so scientific endeavors are discouraged."

Jonathan just grinned again. "You have grasped the heart of the matter."

"Right." Xander was silent for a moment, thinking. "So, Jono… just out of curiosity, how does their tech stand up to ours?"

"I can't tell you that, boss. Not without taking a look at it. I suspect it is going to be a mixed bag. I'm seeing hints here at some tech that we've never even dreamed of, while other references are for things that the ICS abandoned as too primitive centuries ago. I will say this. This Captain Carter - she's a PhD in high energy physics – this Captain Carter has suggested that it's possible the worms have hit a technological stasis due to their lifestyle."

"Their lifestyle? Oh, let me guess. Find a primitive world, take over primitive world, let the slaves do all the work? That would do it. If you're discouraging scientific enquiry… wait, that would take centuries. How long have the worms supposedly ruled the galaxy?"

"Yeah, I was going to get to that next. Apparently since the time of the Great Egyptian Dynasties. Six or seven thousand years ago." Jonathan brought up more data, then "slid" the window across to the workstation at which Xander was sitting. The window popped up almost immediately, and Xander leaned forward to read it. Jonathan continued. "Apparently, some of these worms are that old. SG-1's data suggests that not only do these worms have a natural lifespan of five or six centuries, but they have technology that can extend a person's life almost indefinitely."

"So practical immortality, then, but it's causing them to stagnate?"

"Yeah. Again, this is Doctor Jackson's speculations, but given that Goa'uld culture is basically feudalistic, with each ruling warlord controlling only what he or she can grab in their fist, they don't tend to share technology culture-wide, if you see what I mean."

"No, I get it. So what passes for scientists in their society dreams up some new gadget, and it's really useful, so Wilbur the Wormy Warlord keeps it in his pocket so he can take territory and slaves and resources from his neighboring warlord worms. And because military secrets don't stay secret if people know about them, nothing is done to advance the culture as a whole."

"That's the gist, yeah." Jonathan confirmed.

"And the SGC are at war with these people?' Xander skimmed through the data Jonathan had given him, but there were no details.

"It was an accident. The American military opened up the Tonalse ring without knowing what they had, invaded some worm's territory because they didn't know it was his territory, pissed him off, and then killed him getting away by detonating a nuke in his face."

Xander whistled at that part. There really was no kill like overkill. "Let me guess… the one they killed was acting like a stereotypical movie supervillain. All threats and aggression and 'I will destroy you,' right?"

Jonathan laughed. "From the mission reports I am reading, that's precisely what happened. So they get back to Earth and shut everything down, thinking that they were safe. That was 1994. The Tonalse ring sat there in military storage for three or four years when it was activated from the other side…"

Xander pinched his nose. "The army forgot a door swings both ways?"

"The Air Force, actually, but yeah. The worms opened the Tonalse ring from the other side, invaded the military storage facility, killed some people, kidnapped some other people, and then retreated the way they came. According to the report on what happened, some worm calling himself 'Apophis' – which is the Ancient Greek version of the Egyptian name 'Apep' – needed a meat suit for his new wife and decided Earth would be a handy source."

"Apep, huh?" Xander was silent for a moment. "Egyptian chaos beast. Devourer of the sun. Mortal enemy of the sun-god Ra."

"Funny you should mention Ra. Remember the worm that caught a nuke to the face?" Jonathan grinned, enjoying the situation. "Guess what his name was."

"Ra?"

"Got it in one, boss. Apparently, this Apophis guy moved in on Ra's territory after the Air Force were kind enough to kill him." Jonathan brought up more info and sent it to Xander's workstation. "Anyway, Apophis grabbed a bunch of female air force personnel. The US military decided that they weren't going to put up with the kidnapping of their servicepeople…"

"Understandable. I know I wouldn't." Xander interrupted.

"Right. As I as saying, the Air Force put together a team, sent it through the ring, slaughtered a bunch of the worm's slave army, and brought back as many victims as they could. They also brought back a traitor, this guy named… uh…" Jonathan skimmed through his data, switching windows two times before finding it. "Okay, there's this guy named Teal'c, like the color teal but with a letter c at the end. I'm guessing that's how its pronounced, too, though who knows, really. His species is called Jaffa. They're genetically engineered humans who were changed by the worms to make them better, stronger, more obedient slaves."

"And he's a traitor?"

"Yeah. He apparently joined cause with the air force team and has been working with them as part of their primary mission set ever since. According to this Colonel O'Neill guy, he's effectively a walking dead man if the worms ever get him back." Jonathan brought up a personnel file and slid it to Xander. Xander had to admit, this Teal'c guy looked human enough, but…

"That brand on his head. I bet it hurt like a son of a bitch. Is that gold?" Xander leaned in closer.

"I think so, yeah."

Xander shook his head. "That's hardcore sadism right there."

Jonathan grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, I agree. According to Doctor Jackson's reports, it's supposed to be a mark of honor, though. Every Jaffa gets this tattoo indicating which worm he or she belongs to when they reach a certain age. The gold brand marks the leadership. You have to be a good, loyal slave to earn it."

"Well that just raises the question of what caused this Teal'c guy to switch flags." Xander said. "And if he rebelled, there's probably others out there who want to but haven't yet."

"That's the way revolutions begin, yeah." Jonathan said.

Xander was quiet for a long while, and Jonathan just let it be. He continued running the info-fishing program, pulling bits and pieces of data from SGC reports. Some of it _- the mission reports, mostly, as well as records of Senate testimony and transcripts of phone calls between the White House and SGC - he noted for later examination. Other bits he classified as of secondary importance - interesting, but they could likely wait. This included information like medical reports, supply requisitions, disciplinary records, maintenance records, and so on. Last were the ones he deleted as unnecessary – like pay records.

Xander occasionally tapped on the console, but he wasn't moving information around. It was just a nervous tick, like tapping an eraser on a piece of paper while you thought of what you wanted to write. Finally, he stopped and sat up. "Jono…"

"Yeah, boss?" Jonathan turned his chair to face his commanding officer. The fictional part of his personality had merged so completely by this point that thinking of his off-and-on friend Xander as his commander came second nature.

"I'm getting the feeling that they're going to ask us to help out with the worms. If not to take them down completely, they're going to ask us to help defend the earth." Xander signed and sat back, running a hand through his hair.

"I'd say that's pretty much a sure bet." Jonathan nodded. "I mean, wouldn't you? If there was a friendly warship as big as ours, which you were told is from a thousand years in the future and who knows how well armed, and you were neck-deep in a war with an alien civilization that you were losing, wouldn't you ask?"

"Yeah. I would." Xander sighed. "Wow. Not what I expected." He shook his head. "Thing is, we're kind of obligated to do it, because Earth is still home, right?"

"Yeah. Earth is still home."

"We're going to have to come up with some defenses. I know how we can start, though." Xander stepped to the bridge's viewscreen and started manipulating the windows and the view until a model of the solar system was front and center.

"We need to put some sensor buoys in the outer system to let us know when they arrive. I'm thinking here, here, here… here… here and here… more if we need later. We need some remote autofacs deployed to Mercury," he said, tapping on Mercury to select it, "… on the Moon, and in the asteroid belt – say on Ceres, Vesta, Pallas, Hygiea, and Interamnia, just because they have the excess construction mass."

"Do you want defense platforms in orbit around the Earth, Captain" Dawn asked. Naturally the ship's AI was listening to their conversation. "I can deploy eight immediately, and after that I can place nine more platforms at a rate of one new platform every 47.876 hours, at which point I will deplete my stores of the needed components. I'd need to go mineral farming after that."

"We will eventually want them yeah, but not quite yet, Dawn." Xander said. "In the meantime, please feel free to empty the orbitals to increase your materials stores. Only trash and dead satellites. Nothing that's still sending or receiving signals."

"Yes, Captain. With your permission, sir, I'll start deploying the sensor buoys immediately, after which I will begin salvage operations."

Dawn's voice was pleasant as ever. The side of him that was Xander Harris found it creepy that she never changed her tone no matter what. His own side ignored it, of course. Xander nodded, then realizing what he had done, said, "Commence operations as described."

"Affirmative." Dawn was silent for a moment. "Captain, drone units have begun loading sensor buoys into the missile tubes. Deployment will begin in approximately eight minutes."

"Very well, Dawn. Let me know when the buoys are deployed and on-station."

Xander returned to his seat next to Jonathan. "So, anything else?" Xander asked "I've got another talk coming up with the air force guys in about ten minutes, and I want to have as many cards in my hand as possible."

"There was one other thing. Came out of nowhere, in fact. I was completely not expecting it." Jonathan said. He cleared away all the information on SGC and the worms and brought up a graphic of what looked like the planet Earth.

"I was scanning their Tonalse ring, trying to get more information on it. Energy readings, positioning, how they have it set up and so on, when suddenly this showed up on the scans." Jonathan tapped another key, and suddenly the holographic model of the earth spun on both its x and y axes to present Antarctica in all its frozen glory. A blinking light appeared, just off-center of the Hercules Dome.

"Okay, what am I looking at now?" Xander leaned in again.

"That, boss, is a second Tonalse ring. As far as I can tell, it's almost identical to the one under Cheyenne mountain, plus or minus some additions put in by the Air Force." Jonathan's grin was almost a smirk.

"Is it now? That is very interesting." Xander could only return the grin. "Might be worth taking a look at one of those things up close, you know?" His grin grew wider as he stared at Jono. "So… want to take a trip to Antarctica?"

"What? You want me to… uh… no?" Jonathan said, horrified.

XxxxxxX

In Earth Orbit, 823 km Above Sunnydale, California
November 1, 1997

11:14:38 GMT

"Is it supposed to sting like this?" Joyce rubbed her wrist where her brand new implant had been installed. She was sitting on an amazingly comfortable hospital bed in the medical bay, her legs hanging over the side and barely touching the floor. On the next bed over, Mr. Giles was waiting for his turn.

She looked down at her wrist trying to see if the device was obvious. It wasn't. There was no sign that she had a highly advanced piece of future computer tech inserted under her skin and it surprised her. If she ran a finger over the area, she could feel a pattern of bumps and grooves just under her skin, but for the life of her she couldn't see it.

Buffy and Willow stood in the doorway to the bay, conversing together in low tones and watching the doctor work. Every once in a while Buffy would send a reassuring smile her mother's way, but they weren't necessarily having the intended effect given that Buffy's smile now included actual fangs, like the teeth of a cat.

"It shouldn't last long." The doctor, whom Mr. Giles had recognized as a girl named Amy Madison, though she insisted on being called Doctor Gibbs now, smiled at her reassuringly. The doctor had implanted the first gizmo – the one Joyce thought of as the 'space radio' - behind her ear and under her jaw and Joyce had barely noticed. But the thing on her wrist burned slightly. "If it continues to irritate you for more than another minute, let me know and I'll apply a mild analgesic."

"An analgesic?" Joyce asked. She still hadn't connected a lot of dots and was feeling a bit like she was in a lifeboat, adrift on the ocean.

"Yes, for the burning you're feeling," the doctor responded.

"Right. Of course." Joyce shook her head. "I'm sorry, I knew that. It was a dumb question."

"No, no, it's all right. You've had your world turned upside down, I'd imagine." The doctor picked up a small object – to Joyce it looked like a chromed lipstick tube. "Okay, all I'm doing now is a basic health scan. Make sure you're not carrying any nasty bugs from the 20th and just generally see how healthy you are."

"All right." Joyce sat still as the doctor passed the doohickey over her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You absolutely may. I might not be able to answer, but I'll try if I can." The doctor moved her thingy over Joyce's left arm, and then muttered to herself. "Old break in the right-side radius and ulna; from the scarring on the bone, I'd say it happened in childhood."

"I was 8." Joyce said and the doctor smiled. Joyce asked, "What I was wondering… you were a Sunnydale student, right? I mean, Mr. Giles recognized you. Called you Amy Madison, but you want us to call you Doctor Amy Gibbs. How does that work?"

On his own bed nearby, Giles perked up at the mention of his name. "Yes, what?"

"I was asking the doctor how it worked, the entire double-identity thing." Joyce said to the librarian.

"I admit I was curious about that myself." Giles added.

"How does it work… " Doctor Gibbs – Amy – brought the thingy up and passed it in front of Joyce's head. She abruptly got an odd look on her face. "That's a bit of a complicated issue. Could you turn your head to the right please?"

"Sure." Joyce did as she was asked, and the doctor held the silvered thing in place n front of the left side of her face. "What I am asking, I guess, is… well… I don't mean to be disrespectful, but how did you go from being a high school student to supposedly being a doctor capable of operating all of these… these…" Joyce waved a hand at all the technology that surrounded them. It was so advanced that Joyce literally couldn't recognize any of it. "These gizmos."

"I don't even recognize what half of these things might be," Giles muttered. Amy just smiled.

"Hmmm… well…" Amy reached out and gently pushed Joyce's head up, slightly, so she was looking at a low angle toward the ceiling. "Did Buffy and Willow explain how magic was real?"

"They did. I mean, I have to accept it, I guess, but…"

"It will be easier to accept once we can show you an example, Mrs. Summers." Giles said.

"You might have to wait for that a bit." Amy said. "Where to start… magic is real. Last night a bunch of us dressed up as characters from a failed science fiction television show set a thousand years in the future. Someone – we haven't figured out who – used magic to turn everyone in town into their Halloween costume. Or at least most people. We've found out that some people didn't change."

"So that's what happened to Buffy? She's a cat-person because she dressed up as a cat person?" Realizing what she had said, Joyce blanched. "I'm sorry, I mean…"

"Basically, yes, that is what happened." The doctor gently moved Joyce's head back to its normal position and continued scanning. She smiled and continued. "We turned into the characters we were dressed as. I was dressed as the doctor. In my head is the future equivalent of eight years of medical school. "I couldn't get hired at a 20th Century hospital, but with my qualifications, I'm a prime catch for a 30th Century hospital."

"Right." Joyce took a deep breath and sighed. "This is just something I'm going to have to get used to, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We don't know how to reverse the changes, and some of us – myself included – wouldn't want to." Amy turned toward a fancy console on the wall that was covered in small buttons and panels and screens. She tapped in a command, and the thing began humming. She turned back to Joyce. "Like most of the others, I'm going to convince my dad to move up here to the ship. There's plenty of room, and we have resources here that just aren't available on Earth."

"What I can't understand is how… accepting… you all are to these changes." Mr. Giles said. "It's like you're completely different people now. I would think you would be drooling in a corner somewhere about now."

Amy stopped what she was doing with Joyce and turned to stare at Giles. The expression on her face was a mixture of bemusement and befuddlement. "Go on, by all means." Amy prompted.

"I mean… really." Giles said. "Why aren't you feeling some immense sense of… disgust… at what you have become? It's one thing to have extra knowledge crammed into your head with no warning. The type of change you're talking about would be horrible to contemplate. To no longer be yourself? I think if it were me that I would literally have stopped functioning by now." Giles sighed.

Amy took a deep breath and started. "What you're not taking into account is just how all-encompassing…"

"And Xander as a leader?" Giles scoffed. "He's not leadership material. He's… he's… he's the comic relief sidekick! Thinking of Xander as a leader is just… wrong on so many levels."

That stopped Amy where she stood. A sour expression on her face, she was quiet for a moment, before saying, "I suppose everything would be fine if it were you precious Buffy in command, then?"

"Well… yes, obviously." Giles said.

"Obviously. Because of course no one else is suited to leadership except your precious Slayer. No one else but her could possibly be good enough." Amy gritted her teeth. "Your biases are showing, Mr. Giles. I suggest you get over yourself and do it quickly. Xander is more than just the comic-relief sidekick and he always has been. If you can't accept that, well… I'm sure he'd be willing to drop you back on the hellmouth."

"You were saying something, about the magic that did this to you being all-encompassing?" Joyce looked over at Buffy, taking in her new, alien appearance. "What did you mean?"

Amy paused her scans. "It's difficult to explain, but I will try." She was quiet, thinking. "Okay, you know how I said I was a qualified medical doctor in the world of the ICS?" Joyce nodded. "Right. I meant that in every way. The memories of the character that I dressed as have fused and in some cases over-ridden my memories as Amy Madison, high school student. The elements of my past growing up in Sunnydale have become intertwined with my growing up on Bedford Station, in Sol's asteroid belt. That's where my character grew up, by the way."

"So… it's erased your memories and replaced them?" Joyce was aghast.

"No, not erased. They've been combined. I remember going bowling with my father, but unless I consciously separate out the memory and purposely try to remember it in terms of Sunnydale, I remember that happening on Bedford. Similarly, I remember my dad teaching me to drive… but if I'm not consciously trying to do so, I remember it as learning to fly a rockhopper."

"A… a rockhopper?" Joyce asked, confused.

"It's a small two-man expedition craft, used to go from one asteroid to another." At Joyce's continued confusion, Amy just waved. "Don't worry about it."

"So…" Joyce stared at Buffy for a moment. "Her brain is combining memories of growing up with me and my ex-husband in Los Angeles with…"

"Growing up with her parents on Zoosh, right." Amy finished. "She still remembers you and her dad as her parents, and she still remembers everything that happened growing up, so there's really nothing to worry about."

I suppose not. I just… she's not really my daughter anymore, is she?"

"She is." Amy stepped in front of Joyce and met her eye to eye. "She is absolutely your daughter. She's just… different now."

"She's an alien, right? I'm guessing the changes aren't just cosmetic, or even just external?"

Amy was quiet for a moment. "That's correct. Buffy's a Pelkon now. Their anatomy is similar to humans, but not the same. They have some organs we don't and vice versa. Our DNA is different."

"DNA?" Joyce glanced at Buffy again. It took her a moment but she caught on. Joyce sighed again. "I always wanted grandchildren. Guess I'll have to give that up now."

Amy nodded, sympathizing. "Unfortunately."

"Oh god, I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts about my daughter." Joyce's eyes had become wide.

"What do you mean?" The console behind Amy beeped once and a small shelf opened. Amy turned and withdrew a pen-shaped object from the new opening, then turned back to Joyce.

"She's an alien. Lurid science fiction and weird Japanese pornography aside, her… her… equipment… is going to be different, right?" Joyce openly stared at Buffy. "Buffy won't be able to enjoy even a normal sex life."

A muffled "good lord" came from Giles direction.

"What? What do you mean equi… OH!" Amy's eyes grew wide for a moment. "Well…" Amy suppressed a grin. "In the real world, yeah, but you forget, she's an alien designed by a nerdy male scriptwriter for a cheesy science fiction television show."

"Why would that matter?" Joyce asked. In the nearby bed, Giles was shaking his head and cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief. "What does it have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with everything. I mean… Mrs. Summers, I don't know if you noticed yet, but this ship is a maze of science fiction tropes and clichés."

"What do you mean?" Joyce was confused. She still stared at Buffy, who had suddenly noticed her mother's attention. Joyce turned back to Amy as Buffy began to approach.

Amy stopped scanning again and held up a finger. "Let's review. High tech starship capable of interstellar travel? Check?" A second finger. "A multi-year mission to explore the depths of unknown space? Check." She continued, each time raising a new finger. "A strong-jawed captain who is more than just a regular ship captain? Check. A power trio of officers, each of whom has a different personality that complements the others? Check. Technology so advanced that it doesn't need reasonable explanations as to how it works? Check. Friendly aliens who work together with humans in some sort of interstellar United Nations? Check. Hot alien space babes who are close enough to humans physically they can have hot alien sex with humans?"

Amy looked pointedly over at Buffy, and Joyce followed her gaze.

With a smirk, Amy said, "Check." She resumed her scans as Mrs. Summers sighed again. "What's more cliché in science fiction than a heroic starship captain who meets a beautiful alien women and casually hooks up with them?" Amy said with a small laugh. "Just so happens that Pelkons are… uh… physically compatible, if not quite physicallly identical, with humans, when it comes to their genitalia. Humans and Pelkons have parts that are similar enough that interspecies sex is not just possible but enjoyable. No children, naturally what with the DNA difference, but all of the usual perverted anime catgirl porn fantasies? They are possible."

"You're kidding." Joyce said, her jaw almost slamming into the floor.

"Oh no, not at all. And it's not just the Pelkons, either." Amy laughed. "The Gulavan, the Tautiq, the Dzorum'hn'au, the Woofies, the Erschun, and the Lyllans are all 'compatible' with humans as well, not to mention mutually attractive in some cases. Like I said, the show our characters were based on was created by a pervy sci fi nerd.

Joyce just couldn't stop herself. She joined Amy in laughing.

"So, uh, there was a funny?" Buffy said as she approached. Her question only caused Joyce to laugh louder.

Amy, on the other hand, merely smirked. "I was discussing the chances of inter-species romance with your mother. Specifically, whether a Pelkon woman and a human man, were she to find one she liked and started a relationship, could enjoy a normal sexual life."

Amy's clinical description of the conversation continued Joyce's laughter.

"Oh my god, you didn't." Buffy face-palmed. "I can't believe you."

Amy snorted. "Well, let's not stop there. I haven't even brought up bodysculpting yet."

Joyce's laughter died down. "Body what? Did you say body-sculpting?"

"That's right. Its a bit of a fad among certain young people. They get cosmetic surgery done to look like one of the more human-looking alien species." She hit Joyce with a speculative eye. "How'd you like to look like Buffy? You wouldn't really be a Pelkon, but you'd at least retain the family resemblance."

"You're kidding! That's even possible?" Joyce was shocked.

"No, mom. Please, god, no." Buffy was now double-facepalming.

"While you're thinking that over," Amy said with a smile, "I want to give you this. It's an injection of targeted restrictor nanites. What they'll do is…"

Buffy's head shot up. "Wait, mom's got cancer?"

"I've got cancer?" Joyce's voice was ice cold and sounded worried in an instant. "Oh god, how bad is it? How long do I have?"

Amy put a hand on Joyce's arm to calm her down. "Okay, let me start over. Calm down, okay?" When Joyce nodded, she continued. "Yes, technically you could say you have cancer. It is in the very early stages, but technically its cancer. You have a small growth on your left occipital lobe. That's about here in your brain." Amy gently tapped Joyce on the side of the head, approximately above the location of the tumor.

"Now, the medscanner tells me that its eventually going to turn malignant." She smiled, this time the kindly bedside manner doctor smile. "That said, don't worry, okay? There's no cause for alarm. I figured we could take care of it now when the effects of the tumor are pretty much invisible rather than wait until it gets bad." This," she held up the pen-shaped thing, "is filled with something called 'targeted restrictor nanites.'"

"Restrictor… nanites?" It wasn't a word she was familiar with.

"They're robots, mom. Microscopic robots." Buffy said. She grabbed Joyce's hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. "We use them for a lot of things."

"Like Buffy said, they're tiny robots. The ones in this hypodermic are programmed to find the tumor and break it down and repair the surrounding tissue." Amy held the pen up again, then pressed one end of it to the inside of Joyce's arm, just below the elbow. Amy pressed down on the other end with her thumb. If anything else happened, Joyce couldn't tell. There wasn't even a noise. "There we go. Now you just have to wait while they work. Should take a couple of days, and when they're done, they'll travel to your large intestine, deactivate, and you'll pass them out the next time you go to the toilet. You'll never even notice they were there."

"Yeah, mom, its nothing to worry about. Thousand years in the future, remember? Cancer is nothing with the help of modern medicine." Buffy smiled again.

Amy smiled again and picked up her sensor. She turned to Mr. Giles. "All right, it's your turn."

XxxxxxX

Stargate Program Base, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
November 1, 1997

11:14:38 GMT

"The alien ship did what!?" Hammond demanded. He rubbed his eyes, clearing them of the gunk that built up in the corners. What with everything that was going on, he'd stayed on base, sleeping on a cot he kept in his office for just such emergencies. All the SG teams on base were under similar orders. Hammond glanced at the clock on his desk and winced. Only about three and a half hours. He knew he was going to be grumpy later. He always was when he didn't get enough sleep.

"They fired off some missiles, sir. Both the ground-based and satellite telescopes and cameras caught at least four missiles launching from what we have now identified as missile tubes!" Captain Carter reported, still shuffling papers in her hand.

"What kind of ordinance, Captain? What were the targets and how many casualties are we talking about?" The general picked up the receiver of the red phone kept on the left side of his desk. When someone on the other end of the line picked up, he said, "This is General Hammond at SGC. I need to speak to the president. Yes, I figured he'd be asleep, but he needs to… yes, thank you, I'll hold." The general looked back up to Captain Carter. "Well?"

"Uh… no casualties, sir. The targets… we're not sure where they are, but they're not on Earth, sir." Carter shrugged. "The cameras caught them launching, but they accelerated away from the ship too quickly to be followed. Analysis of the recordings say there's a high probability that the targets of the missiles are elsewhere in the solar system."

"Somewhere else in the…?" The general started to ask. "Well do we have any idea what they're shooting at?"

"No sir. The cameras were able to catch the launch, but less than a second after the launch the missiles accelerated too quickly for our cameras to follow. But we can confirm that their trajectories do not intercept the Earth – or even the Moon - at all." Captain Carter handed the general an assortment of photographs. "But projections indicate that they could be targeting pretty much anything else in the system, other than, say, Neptune and its moons, which are on the other side of the sun right now."

Each picture showed the alien ship with launch blooms – the launch blooms looked odd, not what you would expect from a rocket; instead of plumes of flame, it looked like the back end of the objects were surrounded by halos of light, like from a photographer's ring light - along the top and bottom of the ship's triangle-shaped super-structure. Cylindrical objects were visible coming out of the ship. In the next set of photographs the cylinders were gone… except for one picture which had a bright blur streaking across the body of the starship.

"Are any of the scopes we have trained on the rest of the solar system telling us anything?" Hammond asked.

"Again, no sir, though that's a problem of limited coverage. Right now, we can only track about 3% of the sky at any one time, and excuse me for saying so but there's a lot of sky up there." Carter said. "I've requested a re-tasking of the Hubble and DeepLook telescopes, but even then it's going to be a matter of luck to spot anything. Whatever they are attacking, its going to be all over by the time we spot what's going on."

"Just perfect." Hammond swore under his breath. "Was there any chance that these launches were visible to ground-based telescopes?"

Carter looked sheepish for a moment. "I'd say that's a certainty. What attracted our attention were the light flashes, after all. Any backyard astronomer who happened to be looking up would have spotted them."

"Wonderful." The tone of General Hammond's voice made it clear he thought it was anything but wonderful. "Any backyard astronomer, or even someone who just casually looks up at the night sky will get a really good view of our alien visitor in action. We're likely about to have a complete breakdown in security. The knowledge that we're not alone in the galaxy is about to become public knowledge."

Carter just nodded. "Yes, sir, that does seem inevitable. When we…"

She stopped as General Hammond held up a finger. "Good morning, Mister President. Sorry to bother you at this early hour but something's happened and I wanted to keep you alerted to…"

"Yes, sir, its about our visitors from space. I wouldn't have asked them to wake you up otherwise."

"Well, sir, it seems the alien ship has launched what look like missiles… No, sir, they were not targeting earth at all. These missiles were sent out into the solar system for some reason."

Hammond looked up at Carter. "Captain Carter has estimated at least four, but possibly more, sir."

"No sir, we don't. They were moving faster than our cameras could… that's right, sir. Well, sir, the truth is, we don't have enough telescopes to monitor the entire… Sir, the problem is it's a big damned sky and we only have the budget to monitor a fraction of it."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, I will ask them that very thing." He tapped a finger on the top photograph in the stack. "Sir, you should know that these launches were visible from the ground. Anyone looking up at the sky at the right place would have seen them, and I'd say it's a good bet someone has. There's no way to contain it if Joe the Stargazer managed to get pictures and decides to walk them down to the local television station."

"Of course, sir. As you say, that's your department. I'll alert you if anything else changes. Thank you, sir."

The general hung up the phone and sighed. "The president is going to be briefing his senior staff about the Stargate program – those of them who aren't already aware, that is. The White House Press Secretary is going to be tasked with coming up with a statement that explains the presence of an alien warship in our sky." He rubbed a hand down his face, just sort of staring into a wall for a moment.

"We should contact the Far Traveler and find out what's going on, sir." Carter suggested.

"That was my thought, too. It just hit me that we're about to get a lot of publicity, and not all of its going to be good." Hammond shook his head. Then he shrugged, "Not much we can do about it now."

He rose from his desk – Captain Carter standing as he did – and walked out of his office with Carter close on his heels. The pair walked to the duty station, where a sleepy-eyed lieutenant sat, paging through a magazine. The junior officer jumped to his feet at the general's approach.

"Lieutenant, wake up the rest of SG-1 and have them meet me and Captain Carter here in the conference room." He turned to Carter. "Captain, go get the communications device they sent us and meet us there."

The team had assembled within ten minutes. Teal'c and O'Neill were both alert and awake, as was Carter despite the fact that she'd been awake all night monitoring the aliens. Doctor Jackson, on the other hand, looked like he had wilted and was yawning every few seconds.

"I don't know if you'd heard yet, but roughly twenty minutes ago, our friends in orbit fired a series of objects outward into the solar system. From the few photos we've gathered, they look like missiles. Now, we have no idea what they were firing on. If there's some threat out there, we haven't seen it yet." Hammond began.

At his nod, Carter passed around the pictures of the launches. The three men perked up at that, even though Jackson was still yawning.

"That doesn't look like a standard rocket-propelled launch." Daniel said.

"No… more like a photon torpedo... just a little less… photoney." O'Neill responded.

"Photoney? Sir?" Carter rolled her eyes at the Star Trek reference.

"Yeah. Photoney. It's a thing." O'Neill turned to Hammond. "Sir, are we sure they weren't aimed at Earth?" O'Neill asked.

"No, sir. The trajectories would make that impossible. Not only that, but we'd have heard about impacts by now, and there hasn't been a peep on the news," he answered. "That said, Captain Carter has informed me that these launches were so bright that it is almost guaranteed that some civilian somewhere saw them from the ground, and might even have managed to capture some photographs."

"Oh, god." O'Neill groaned. "There goes any hope of keeping this under wraps."

"Precisely," the general said. He sat quiet for a moment, before adding, "I wish that just once some of our alien visitors would be courteous enough to not threaten the stability of human civilization. I get that I'm not in a position to force him to follow orders, but it would be nice if he would just listen to us and not make it blatant that he's up there."

"It would seem the wisest course would be to contact Captain Samson and ask him directly." Teal'c said, flatly.

"That was my plan, Teal'c, once I brought you up to snuff on these launches." He turned to Carter and gestured toward the alien communications device sitting on the table in front of her. "Captain, if you will?"

"Yes, sir." Captain Carter pulled the device closer to her and pressed the large button that had previously begun their conversation with the Captain of the alien vessel. Instantly a line of blue light swept across her, first horizontally, then vertically, and a second after that Captain Carter found herself within a ring of light. She could still see the conference room, but it looked hazy, as if someone had put a transparent overlay over everything.

"Carter!" It was a shout, from O'Neill.

"I'm fine! I'm fine, sir. I think this is just…" Carter began. Before she could finish, the haze turned white and a young woman – a teenager, really – appeared before her. The teenager was also vaguely transparent. Like the Captain's hologram had earlier, the girl's form pierced the table. All around Carter and the girl was a futuristic room of some sort, with control surfaces everywhere. Like the girl, it was all semi-transparent.

"ICS Far Traveler responding," the girl said. Her eyes unfocused, then focused on Carter. "Captain Samantha Carter, United States Air Force. Greetings, I am Dawn, ship's AI for the Far Traveler. At this time, all biological crew are busy with other tasks. May I be of assistance?

Carter was puzzled regarding how the AI knew who she was, but it was only a moment's pause. "Um… hello, Dawn, yes I'm Captain Carter." Carter could tell no one in the room could see the girl. It was an odd phenomenon. "We - that is, Stargate Command – need to talk to your Captain about the missiles you launched toward the outer solar system."

"One moment please." Dawn's eyes seemed to lose focus – it was an interesting detail given that this was a sentient computer program, and not an actual human being. Within a few seconds, the girl blipped out, only to be replaced by Captain Samson.

"Captain Carter, I was just about to contact you." Samson grinned. It was a lazy, friendly maneuver that Carter could tell worked well to put people at their ease. "I'm guessing you are calling about the probes."

"Probes?" Carter asked. "Those missiles you fired were actually probes?"

"Yes. Well… sensor buoys, actually, but they work as probes. They are going to be taking up a permanent station as the solar system's cardinal points, about 20 AU out, and will be monitoring the system for unusual activity." The Captain paused and his smile grew a bit stiffer. "Such as – just to name one – a fleet of invading warships led by overly-aggressive earthworms with a god complex."

Carter was silent for a moment. "You know about the Goa'uld and are going to help us against them?"

"They're going to do what now?" General Hammond asked. Carter turned to look, having to peer through the hologram to see her commanding officer. It was a bit disconcerting, as – according to the hologram – there was a second man sitting just off where the general was, watching Captain Samson. It created a disturbing overlap. General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill were both staring at her like she had just transformed into a cobra. Daniel had sat up and was paying more attention but didn't have the look of surprise her superior officers had. Teal'c was still Teal'c, as stoic as ever.

The attention caused Carter to glance down at herself quickly, at the network of blue lines that were constantly crisscrossing her skin. For a moment, Carter wondered if she appeared on the ship in the same way Captain Samson had appeared in the SCG conference room, in holographic ghostly form.

"We need to establish certain ground rules first, but… yeah… of course we're going to help you." Samson shrugged. "The ICS might not exist at this time, but earth is still its capital, and the home of humanity. Despite the evolutionary changes people from my planet have undergone in the last thousand years, we're still human."

XxxxxxX

Author's Note: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Warner Brothers in conjunction with Mutant Enemy Productions. Stargate SG-1 is the property of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in conjunction with Double-Secret Productions, the Gekko Film Group, Sony Pictures Television, and the Showtime Network. The Hundred Worlds novels and roleplaying setting are both the property of Passionate Worldmakers, Incorporated in association with Bard's Tower Media. All elements derived from The Hundred Worlds is used here with permission of the author.

Author's Note the Second: To the reviewer who called me a "Walter Mitty" for writing these stories, intending it to be an insult… well first, thank you. James Thurber's Walter Mitty is one of the greatest characters in all of fiction. He's an iconic character, and I can think of worse fictional characters to be compared to. And second, wish fulfilment fantasies are the point of fanfiction. Get with the program.

Just to the rest of you know, this is the guy who also read the first three chapters of "Origin Story," refused to read any further, and then called me a "lying faggot" – his words, not mine – for claiming that "Origin Story is not a gender bender story. Now, anyone who has read that story in its entirety knows I'm telling the truth, but some people refuse to learn.

So, I take his "insults" with all the seriousness they deserve. That is, none.

Author's Note the Third: I started to work on the next chapter of Origin Story, got a few paragraphs down, and then turned to this and chunked out the entire chapter. I'm also halfway done with the next chapter of Always a Bigger Fish. I think you guys – those of you who are following Always a Bigger Fish as well as this story – will like it, as it's got Nick Fury and Xander in it.