Jeremaih Grayson
Under the Government Building
P7X – 912
Almost two hours since arrival, June 3, 2003
Medraut's nod gave life to something he thought was purely fantasy.
How could it be!? He could only assume that the story of the 'Old Ones' was brought to earth by one of the great races..or possibly even the Gou'ald. The story was probably pasted down generation after generation until H.P. Lovecraft wrote it down. Lovecraft probably never imaged that this story could be true.
His excitement overpowered him as he tried to hold back a smile. Just the thought of a story that old gave him addition hope of finding his root language.
It had probably been translated dozens of times before it found it's way to English. As the possible implications of the story and the stargate raced through Jeremiah's head, Medraut began to talk.
“Yes, I know of which world this all started on,” Medraut replied. “From the descriptions of the surroundings and terrain, plus what has happened at your base since your return, R'lyeh is the world this started on. The team that traveled there, unwittingly released minions of the Old Ones . . . at least we can only hope they were minions. The Old Ones were/are much more powerful than any Goa’uld, even Ra at his height. It took the combined might of the four great races to lock the Old Ones on R'lyeh. The event almost wiped one of the great races from existence, and caused another to retire from this galaxy entirely. A third took a vow of passivity, leaving only the remaining great race to tend to this part of the galaxy. Time passed and the vacuum of power was filled . . . by the goa’uld. .
Jeremiah's excitement once again got the better of him as he blutted out the first question that came to his head.
"How do we contact the race responsible for this part of the galaxy?" After all, it made sense that if they toke care of them once, they could do it again. Besides, he wouldn't miss a chance to talk to another race, especially one this old.
Jeremaih's excitement continued to allow his mind to race. He felt as though he was living an ancient greek or egyptian myth. In fact, he would of continued to drift if it weren't for Lt. Reed's moan.
Thank God she is okay.