Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mark Canaan walked had shown up an hour beforehand. A rather boring hour to him and that was saying something. He'd spent the past couple of years on bases in the South Pacific and that had been interesting by comparison.

He'd been on leave, visiting his mother in Gary when he'd received the certified mail pickup request. He was still in the same clothes he'd been in when he'd walked into the post office. That night he was on a plane, flying coach to Washington D.C. He'd bought some clothes and a case of beer at the supermarket and settled himself for a couple of days in a cheap motel. Glamorous for sure but he was on vacation.

Now here he stood in a room full of generals, soldiers and civilians in all his vagrantesque glory. Mark had placed the namebadge on his t-shirt in the sake no one would see it. Half hidden behind the zipper of his Carhartt jacket was his name in bold black letters next to the same picture that was on his military ID 'Lance Corporal Mark Canaan', The war hero and former spec ops marine in all his splendor, full beard and stinking of sweat from the four mile hump here.

A general was on stage now, speaking in amplified tones that rung in his ears. As the man spoke tired eyes scanned the room, and through the blur of his aching head found his seat, C28. He sat down next to a man, a major by the rank pins, a decorated combat veteran by the medals gleaming from his chest. Beyond him there were two korean men, civilians, but judging by what General Duvenham was saying, more likely scientists.

His mind caught up to his ears as he processed the words. This was something very real and very classified. Being told that he was going to become privy to information that would get him locked away forever, should he share it in any way, was nothing new to him. What stood out was the term SGC. In his years of service he'd dealt with damn near every alphabet agency there was but he'd never heard of the SGC.

"I knew I should've shaved this morning." He muttered to himself as he remove his baseball cap.

The irony caught him now. This is what he had wanted, what he had begged and pleaded for. A chance to get back into action. To do his duty and fight for his country. Yet, he was really gonna miss the beaches. One thing that was nice about not being in combat duty. Lot's of beaches.

((OOC: Know it's a bit fluffy but I hope it's alright. It'll be better when I have something more to do than 'go here, sit down' ya know?))

Someone wise once told her that getting complacent was a good way to die. That it was never quite... safe, to underestimate those beneath her. Not that many people would or could honestly consider them beneath Amelia Shepard. Born and raised a slave, she was used to being under people's feet. But that suited her just fine. No one paid much attention to what was beneath their boot, which made it painfully easy to slip in behind them to take everything that would fetch a price. Stealing is what Amelia had been doing since she was old enough to walk. Stealing is what she was good at - what she knew. So, it could easily be argued that her objective, late at night on the streets of Packard, Telis, should have been a breeze. But she was attempting something that no one in her position ever had before. If she failed, she'd be killed, if not worse. Still... success was hanging right in front of her, like a carrot hung out for a horse. How could she resist? How could she sit back, seeing the path in front of her, so clear, so available? She could do it. Of that, Amelia was sure. Doing it was never the problem in this business. The deed itself was the easiest part of any job or contract taken.

Pulling it off was half the fun, even. In her teens, stealing books from her master's shelves, she would read about magicians who titled their tricks with three special names. The Pledge. A moment in which you are promised a trick. The magician promises to make an item disappear. Then, there's The Turn. This is the moment where they do as promised in a way that leaves the audience stunned and awed. But the Prestige is the part that every artist truly lives for.

Having made the crowd lean in, looking for the secret, the Prestige is the moment that the artist brings the item back, For thieves, it was the escape. The getaway. The blinking second that makes their target lose track of them - and their stolen goods - forever. It was the moment that over the years, began to gave Mila a rush. It became the part of the job that she worked her hardest at. Oh, sneaking in, bypassing security, slipping the item into her pouch - that was all well and good. A part of every job that she was accustomed to and at which she'd become adept. But there was something sinfully wonderful about hitting the streets, fresh out of a job, knowing that the poor sod wouldn't notice a thing. Maybe until morning. Possibly for days. Just the knowledge that she'd passed through like a ghost... It gave her a satisfaction that few other things could. She didn't ask to become a thief... But damn if she wasn't good at it.

Tonight, however, she would dare to steal from the man who had held power over her life from the age of four. She was going to rob her master - and if luck was on her side? She'd kill him.

Several years back, he'd gifted her a small hut on the far side of town; which left her living in the Slave District. It wasn't unexpected. If anyone set out silverware on a table and watched the pieces carefully - they would still never notice Mila slipping a piece from the pile. He had moved her so he could avoid the undeniable risk that she might turn her carefully trained skills back on her master. And to be fair - Mila would have in a heartbeat. There would have been no convincing her not to rob the man. She did so hate him. Oh, sure. He'd oh so kindly granted her the ability to function as more than a simple slave. Educated her. Gave her a run-down shack to call her own. But no matter how he branded her at the end of the day; she was a slave. And Mila was tired of being a slave.

Fingerless gloves on her hands, she glanced around the empty street she stood on. In Telis, there was only two rules. Don't risk revealing Telis to the Gao'lud in any way. Second, but more important than the first - don't ******** with Yusef Ismail. Now, Yusef likely wouldn't bat an eye at a slave robbing her master. Probably wouldn't care. If it didn't disrupt his own business, Yusef seemed to care about very little that went on in Packard. Still, he had a sort of patrol that ran the streets at night. They had free reign to pummel anyone who caused trouble. Causing trouble, however, was as simple as being caught out after dark for a slave. Seeing that the coast was clear, she set off at a dead sprint toward her target. She was hoping to scale the outside wall of her master's home. An archway over the entrance to an alley on the south end of this wall was her opening. It was ten feet taller than her, but she'd always been good at climbing. Using her own weight and momentum to her advantage. She managed to run half way up the wall before she felt her weight start to sink, narrowly catching a loose stone with the tips of her fingers while planting one foot firmly against the wall.

Using this, she pulled hard; throwing herself up just enough to catch the next available hand-hold. It took her less than five minutes to reach the top, straddling it before carefully getting to her feet on the narrow catwalk. She backed up; facing the wall in front of her. From the top of the archway, she was about another ten feet from the top of the guard wall. There weren't any handholds that she could see. If she missed, if she fell short - she was more likely to break her neck in the fall than ever gain freedom. It didn't help that her sprinting path was less than a foot wide. One misstep meant she would topple over the edge and go crashing into the ground below. Add her weight to the momentum she'd be carrying from her run, and it spelled - of course - a broken neck. "No room for error," she muttered to herself as she took a few steadying breaths; trying to work herself up to the task. "Certain death if you fail. .... No pressure, Shepard." With that, and a quick prayer to whatever Gods existed in this world, she took off at a dead sprint for the wall. She ran up the wall, up, up... And her fingers narrowly brushed the ledge, but didn't catch. It was only luck that when she kicked against the wall one more feeble time, hoping to push her weight up by a centimeter, that her effort worked. The tips of her fingers supporting her, she swung her right hand up and carefully hauled herself up onto the wall. Then, she straddled the top for a few moments; appreciating how close she'd just come to death.

From there, the job became ridiculously, humorously simple. She hopped down from the wall, landing in a crouch. Darting across the yard, she threw herself at the wall and easily made it to the window that she'd deliberately sabotaged that afternoon. Picking the lock on the window was child's play. Stealing down the hall, into his private study was a joke. She found his nightly cup of tea still steaming; and him nowhere to be seen. Good. She slipped a chip from the pouch on her belt and crumbled it up over his tea, watching the bits dissolve almost instantly in the hot liquid. Raising a brow at it, as if she expected it to explode, she muttered, "Better work." She went over to the computer set up in the back of the room; holding her wrist near the console, clicking a button on the sleek, steel-gray electronic bracelet she wore. "Activate the hacking shunt."

A soft, computerized male voice responded; "Activating." After only a second, he spoke again. "Active. Proceed with account and harddrive transfer?" Her H.U.B.R.I.S bracelet, more commonly referred to as a Hub, had the most irritating voice. It was to be expected, though. It was a computer. Of course, every word would come off flat and lifeless. Still. It would have been nice if the creators spent ten minutes trying to make it sound less... dull. She confirmed the order and he immediately droned, "Draining accounts... Copying harddrive... Wiping local copy... Estimated process time: fifteen minutes. Please remain within twenty feet of the console for optimal processing." Twenty feet, huh? She could work with that.

She'd started to rifle through the shelves, trying to decide what she'd take when her master's accounts had been thoroughly drained, when she heard shuffling footsteps from outside the study. Quickly, she popped open the window, lowering herself down to hang by her fingers from the windowsill as she pulled the window shut behind her; careful not to lock it. In less than five minutes, her fingers began to ache. Very carefully, she lifted herself up enough to peek into the study; not daring to even glance down for a second. She was just in time to be greeted by the sight of her soon-to-be former master grasping at his throat, hacking and coughing. Eyes gone wide, face a shade lighter - if that was possible - he fell out of his seat, reaching out with a hand as if help would materialize in his palm. Somehow, the sight didn't feel as good as she was hoping it would. Lowering herself down, she closed her eyes and counted to thirty before pulling herself up and climbing back inside the study.

Just as her Hub bracelet droned out; "Drain complete." - a guard appeared in the doorway of the study, spotting Mila standing over her dead body. In the dark, with the only dim source of light at her back, her face would be hard to see. She hoped. Pulling her pistol from her hip, she warned; her tone cold, not allowing for any argument, "You don't feel like dying, do you?" He said nothing; glaring at her. "Thought not. So here's how this is going to work. You're going to stand in the corner here and count to a thousand. Count nice and loud, so I can hear you. Stop counting and you die, got it?"

Even as he moved slowly to the corner, wisely setting his pistol on the floor by his feet near the door, he snapped, "We'll find you, little girl." The look in his eyes was murderous, making her very glad that he couldn't possibly know that her pistol was completely out of clips. One would think that living in the biggest smuggling city on Telis, buying an illegal gun would have been an easy task. But the slave mark on her wrist gave her away. He'd agreed to the gun, but not ammo for it. She'd have to stick to bluffing until she could get a hold of some. Still, this was no time to lower her guard - or her bluff. Hefting the pistol, she growled back, "Or I could kill you now and give myself a much better head-start." Moving quickly, keeping her empty pistol trained on him, she scooped up his pistol - which was a much better model, by the way - and began backing out of the room. "Here, let me get you started. One, two, three...!" Only once he was steadily counting did she turn her back and run. And she ran hard.

The next two hours were hell on a girl's feet in heels. Her own fault, though. She'd wanted to pack light when she left her hovel. The hovel that was no doubt crawling with men looking for her by now. She'd had to carefully sneak to the far, far end of Packard to go to the hole-in-the-wall bar that most people spent their nights getting plastered. Still, it was the best way to beg access to the Stargate - and she already had an in. At the door, she walked up to the bouncer, asking in Arabic (as was previously agreed), "The Shepard..." Her head lowered even as her hand rose to run a frustrated hand through her hair, pushing it back as she groaned, still speaking in Arabic, "Do we have to do this?"

"Say the line or I can't let you in, Omega."

"Fine, fine! The Shepard is looking for her flock," she sighed, feeling her self-respect dwindle in the balance. He grinned, chuckling as he opened a door off the the side from the front door. From there, she was led down a flight of steps, through a maze of halls, doors, lifts, and yet more corridors. At the end, there was a massive flight of marble steps leading up. At the top, she was greeted with the sight of a large white domed room with a glass ceiling. Looked like glass. If it was some sort of strange tech that allowed him to see the outside without the security fall backs of a glass ceiling - she couldn't tell. In the center of the room, stood the Stargate, as well as a varied looking group waiting to go through.

"Fond of keeping people waiting, are you, Amelia?" From the back of the room, up another, shorter flight of marble steps, she heard Yusef Ismail speak. She looked up at him, nodding politely though she initially said nothing until, "I'm not helping you get away with murder so you can gawk like a mouse. Speak."

"My hacking program hit some snags," she replied dryly. "The poison worked beautifully, though. I'll owe you one."

"Yes. You will." There was an ominous moment of silence as his steely gaze locked with hers; freezing her to the spot as the silent threat of that returning this favor hung in the air between them. "You're sure he's dead?" She nodded again, confirming it vocally when he narrowed his gaze at her. "Good. His people will be too busy dealing with my take over to chase you-"

"Daddy! Daddy, you didn't!" A girl dressed in a brilliant pale blue dress came from a door to the far right that Amelia hadn't initially noticed. She raised a brow as this girl - obviously related to Yusef - demanded, "How could you kill Raoul!? I loved him!"

Yusef seemed only passively bothered by this interruption; even as Mila watched him warily, as if he might kill her for this girl's insubordination. "No, you liked that he liked you." Huffily, crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him.

"So?!

"He can like you all he wants. From a distance. Preferably, he can like you from a place that is off-world. However, he chose to like you by sneaking into my home, at night, to see you. Without my permission?" He clicked this tongue in such a light-hearted manner of disapproval that Mila had to suppress the urge to burst into laughter. How could he be so calm? Wasn't he discussing his recent murder of a man? "Amelia," he said, not taking his eyes off the girl.

Hesitantly, she replied. "Yes?"

"You'll find the agreed upon sum placed into your private account - your welcome for that, by the way - upon my confirmation that your master is dead." She started to thank him until his eyes slanted her way; a coldness in their depths that stopped her dead. He sounded so friendly, so perfectly conversational and civil that her own blood chilled at the sound. How could anyone look so menacing and sound so bloody... kind? "Do try not to vomit on the other side. I'd hate for you to ruin those shoes." His gaze left her once more and she felt her lungs take breath again. She glanced down at the shoes - wondering if he somehow knew that she'd worn them specifically because they were her good, favorite pair? Because packing light meant only taking one bag and one spare outfit? That perhaps he knew that these boots were the only boots she might own until she managed to find a place to settle?

The Stargate was opened in the next minute. The group began going through. With one look back at Yusef, seeing him engaged in conversation with the girl - his daughter? Who else could talk to Yusef Ismail that way and live? - she turned back to the Stargate...

And stepped through.

Mark turned to face the voice. It was the man who'd been sitting next to him.

" Well Major, you know a marine when you see one. Lance Corporal Mark Canaan. Was it the lead kiss that gave me away?" he said placing a finger against his cheek and peering at the man over his sunglasses.

"Last few years I've been in the Philippines and South Korea mostly. Before that I am not at liberty to discuss sir."

He looked up into the grey clouds one last time as they stepped aboard. He hoped the weather was better wherever they were going. Which brought him back to the man walking next to him as he slid into the seat next to the Major on the cramped charter bus.

" So what' your story Major. You don't seem surprised by any of this. Care to fill me in before we head down range? And for that matter just where the hell are we going anyway?"

He was prying but it was a fair question. Despite the 'seen some s**t' look in the Major's eyes he could tell he'd been familiar with the news the president had given. He hadn't shared in the looks of panic, surprise and disbelief that had gone throughout the room.

My memories hardened and are bright as chrome
Good times escape

A history lesson...

Elyssa leaned back into her chair as the President stood at the podium, diving into his history lesson. She was only half paying attention to the history lesson, her thoughts too wrapped up around the idea that this invitation had been a mistake. Surely the invitation had been for someone else. It wasn't that Elyssa wasn't confident in her field. In fact, she was quite confident when it came to anything related to the medical field. She had spent years studying the human body and learning how to keep people alive. Her thoughts briefly travelled back to her college afternoons spent in an ambulance during her EMT training. There had been many occasions when she had learned how to keep someone alive long enough until they reached the hospital. Battling with death masquerading as time.

The insecurity came from the small fact that she was still at the beginning of her career. She had just finished all her academic schooling. She wasn't some well-known doctor making giant breakthroughs about the human body. She was just a woman trying to become a doctor. Trying to reach her dreams. So why would the government want her and not someone more...official?

Her focus returned to the President as he fell silent. The lights in the room dimmed and a LCD projector was rolled out. Footage of a large ring appeared upon a screen. The doubts that had been lingering in her head fell silent instantly as Elyssa's brown eyes focused on the footage. What the hell was she looking at? It seemed to be a giant ring with strange marks along the edges. Blue and silver rippling liquid filled the interior of the ring. Then, the projector was shut off and the lights rose as the President began to speak once again.

What had she just seen? It looked to be something straight out of a weird sci-fi movie. A gate to the stars? Was the President actually seriously talking about...no. No, this had to be some kind of prank. This convention had to be some kind of joke. Elyssa glanced around to gauge the reactions of the individuals in the crowd. Some people were shaking their heads, clearly thinking that what the President was talking about was crazy. But there were others, just a small handful, who were completely engaged. Their eyes were wide with a desire to know more.

"Are you willing to step into the unknown with us?" the President's question lingered in the air. It lingered for a few, long moments before people began to rise from their seats and promptly exit the room. His question fell then, upon all of their shoulders. She watched as a majority of the audience left. Should she leave as well? Should she just call it and try to salvage what she could out of this rainy day?

"And I assure you we did not make a mistake in the selection process."

Her invitation wasn't a mistake. She was invited to this bizarre convention. Elyssa's gaze shifted back up to the podium where the President was standing. She remained seated. If her invitation truly hadn't been a mistake then why not see how far she could take this? Perhaps she could gain some valuable experience in all this.

When only a small handful of brave or insane souls were left, her among them, they were directed to a bus outside the building that would take them to a private plane. Elyssa stood along with the rest and started to follow the small crowd out of the room and into a hallway. As she began to move she heard a voice speaking to her. Elyssa turned her head and looked up to find the Korean man she had been sitting next to speaking to her.

"Well...I wasn't exactly expecting it to be this kind of a convention but-" before Elyssa could continued the Korean man continued onwards, his words tumbling from his mouth. Elyssa listened to him as the crowd moved down the hallway. He believed the existence of aliens to be true which didn't exactly surprise Elyssa. She had just stared at the footage of a giant ring considered the gate to the stars.

Elyssa quietly listened to the Korean as they were led onto a bus. For a brief moment Elyssa wondered about her Honda. She now had a feeling this would take more than two hours. She came to a halt right at the doors to the bus and dug out a handful of quarters and held them out to one of the armed guards by the bus.

"Could you put those in the meter where my car is parked? It's the brown old Honda Civic. Hard to miss. Thanks," she climbed onto the bus, leaving the armed guard with as handful of quarters and a confused look. She settled into her seat, the Korean sitting down next to her. When he began to apologize Elyssa looked over at him.

"Offended? Why would I be offended? And I've faced scarier things than lectures," Elyssa briefly checked the back pocket of the bus seat in front of her to see if there were any magazines to look through. She found nothing of interest. She looked back over at the Korean and shook his offered hand. "Nice to meet you, Professor Soryu Oh. I'm Dr. Elyssa Snippet." She rarely put a title in front of her name but since she was among geniuses why the hell not? "No worries. It's cool that you're about to make a huge breakthrough on your alien theories. I don't exactly have any alien theories to share with you. I'm more of a...doctor. Yeah, I'm a doctor. Didn't know aliens existed until today." However, Elyssa still wasn't sure. She would need to see an alien face to face before anything was determined.

"But I've always imagined them with skinny green bodies and big heads with large black eyes," Elyssa continued. "It would be interesting to see how such an alien body works if such an alien exists. Quick question," Elyssa leaned forward to dig through the back pocket of the bus seat in front of Soryu for anything of note. "what is your favorite lollipop flavor? And don't say you don't have one. That's a lie. There's a flavor for everyone."

____________________________________


A billion eyes are watching, fossilized
They see what remains.