The Cheyenne Mountain Irregulars: A Stargate Story Hour. Updated 7/20
Ladybird
First Post
Episode 1: Closer to Fine. Part 8 - Twice as Cloudy as I'd Been the Night Before
December 20, 2010
I shouldn’t be feeling this good, Kathleen thought giddily, as the van careened through the still-dark streets of another St. Petersburg morning rush hour. I’ve had hardly any sleep, I spent most of last night with an irritating archaeologist, I’m probably going to get killed by an insane Russian driver, and I can’t find a decent cup of coffee in this town. Oh yes. And I’m about to deal with Rasputin.
Still, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling an odd exhilaration about everything as she explained the situation to the rest of SG-17. “What worries me most,” she concluded, “is that Yusef seemed to be talking about the possibility that Kresnik would come back. The canopic jar might be on some sort of a timer, set to release him at some specific point.”
“Then would it not be safest for me to enter the room first?” asked Ked’rec. “Since I cannot be a potential host.”
Kathleen nodded. “Definitely. And Mr. Healy, you’ll go in too, for backup.” She gave them a brief grin. “We’ll send in the people with No Vacancy.”
Dr. Hramov, of course, was harder to convince. “Why do they get to go?” he argued, when they reached Yusupov Palace and told him about the plan. “I should be in the first group to go down there! I must be the first to see it! This is a priceless archaeological find! A national treasure – ”
“And a dangerous situation,” Kathleen told him firmly. “Those two have special skills that will enable them to deal with it safely.”
“Special skills,” Hramov scoffed. “American technical school again. Do you expect me to believe – “
Kathleen cut him off before he could go any further with his skepticism about any ‘special skills’ that Joe and Ked’rec might have. “You’re staying up here.” She tried a smile. “With me. And Reinhart.” And won’t that be fun, she thought.
* * *
The metal rings of the transporter zipped up around Joe and Ked’rec, and with a flash of light the two men disappeared from the mausoleum. Twenty feet down, another set of rings rose up, with them still in the center, uneasily back to back with their weapons raised. They had never been this close to each other before, but in the face of potential battle, their instincts took over – both men held their breath, on edge and waiting for the strike that they feared might come the moment the rings retreated.
And then…nothing happened. The room was empty, its walls shimmering with gold surfaces and heavily inscribed with Goa’uld characters. Orieth shivered. I haven’t seen a room like this since the last time I was on a Goa’uld mothership.
Deep silence rose as the whizzing sound of the ring transporter died away, and for a long moment, the two men stood motionless.
“No snakes?” Joe finally said. Orieth sent a wave of exasperation through his mind at the phrasing, but he pushed it away with a snort and started lowering his weapon slowly.
“Indeed, the symbiote does not appear to have escaped,” Ked’rec agreed.
“Okay, then. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
“We have reached our destination, Major Fitzgerald,” Ked’rec said into his radio. “And the canopic jar appears to be intact.”
Kathleen’s voice crackled over the radio in response. “Good. Still, be careful down there. Call if you need backup.”
“We will indeed,” Ked’rec replied.
Joe was already out of the circle of the ring transporter, exploring the small, sparse room. There was hardly anything in it except for a long low counter, glowing faintly yellow against the golden walls, on which sat a tall canopic jar inscribed with Goa’uld characters. His eyes flashed briefly, and when he spoke, it was with Orieth’s resonant voice. “Kresnik,” Orieth read from the jar.
“You are positive that the seal has not been broken?”
“Oh, yes, I’m fairly sure that I would be able to tell if the jar had been opened.” Orieth moved closer, reaching out one hand ever so slightly, but still not willing to touch it. “And the jar’s naquadah mechanisms are still operational, too, so if Kresnik is still in the jar, then he’s being kept alive.” Deep inside, Joe gave an involuntary shudder at the sensation of the naquadah close to his hand.
You’ll get used to it, Orieth reassured him yet again.
That’s what you said last time., Joe retorted. Hasn’t worked yet.
“Should we bring the canopic jar back up to the surface?” Ked’rec asked, breaking in on the internal dialogue.
“Oh, yes. I’m certain that they will want to take it back to the SGC for observation.”
The rings zipped up and down again, returning the Tok’ra, the Jaffa, and the jar to the surface. Hramov immediately rushed towards them. “Is that it? Do you have it? Let me see!”
Reinhart exchanged a quick glance with Kathleen, then cleared his throat loudly, stepping between Hramov and the jar. “Are you sure it’s in there?”
The Tok’ra’s eyes closed briefly, as Orieth gathered his concentration to speak in Joe’s voice. “The seal hasn’t been broken, and the mechanism is still working. But without some way of looking inside, we can’t know for certain whether Kresnik is inside.”
“Would an X-ray work on something like that?” Reinhart wondered.
Reluctantly, Kathleen turned to Hramov for confirmation. “I don’t think so…”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Hramov was already starting to puff up with pride at being an authority. “But there are…” He fumbled for the English words, then shook his head. “I have a friend who is a doctor at the university hospital. I think he may let us use some of the other kinds of scanners that they have there.”
“MRIs,” Joe muttered. “Great.”
December 20, 2010
I shouldn’t be feeling this good, Kathleen thought giddily, as the van careened through the still-dark streets of another St. Petersburg morning rush hour. I’ve had hardly any sleep, I spent most of last night with an irritating archaeologist, I’m probably going to get killed by an insane Russian driver, and I can’t find a decent cup of coffee in this town. Oh yes. And I’m about to deal with Rasputin.
Still, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling an odd exhilaration about everything as she explained the situation to the rest of SG-17. “What worries me most,” she concluded, “is that Yusef seemed to be talking about the possibility that Kresnik would come back. The canopic jar might be on some sort of a timer, set to release him at some specific point.”
“Then would it not be safest for me to enter the room first?” asked Ked’rec. “Since I cannot be a potential host.”
Kathleen nodded. “Definitely. And Mr. Healy, you’ll go in too, for backup.” She gave them a brief grin. “We’ll send in the people with No Vacancy.”
Dr. Hramov, of course, was harder to convince. “Why do they get to go?” he argued, when they reached Yusupov Palace and told him about the plan. “I should be in the first group to go down there! I must be the first to see it! This is a priceless archaeological find! A national treasure – ”
“And a dangerous situation,” Kathleen told him firmly. “Those two have special skills that will enable them to deal with it safely.”
“Special skills,” Hramov scoffed. “American technical school again. Do you expect me to believe – “
Kathleen cut him off before he could go any further with his skepticism about any ‘special skills’ that Joe and Ked’rec might have. “You’re staying up here.” She tried a smile. “With me. And Reinhart.” And won’t that be fun, she thought.
* * *
The metal rings of the transporter zipped up around Joe and Ked’rec, and with a flash of light the two men disappeared from the mausoleum. Twenty feet down, another set of rings rose up, with them still in the center, uneasily back to back with their weapons raised. They had never been this close to each other before, but in the face of potential battle, their instincts took over – both men held their breath, on edge and waiting for the strike that they feared might come the moment the rings retreated.
And then…nothing happened. The room was empty, its walls shimmering with gold surfaces and heavily inscribed with Goa’uld characters. Orieth shivered. I haven’t seen a room like this since the last time I was on a Goa’uld mothership.
Deep silence rose as the whizzing sound of the ring transporter died away, and for a long moment, the two men stood motionless.
“No snakes?” Joe finally said. Orieth sent a wave of exasperation through his mind at the phrasing, but he pushed it away with a snort and started lowering his weapon slowly.
“Indeed, the symbiote does not appear to have escaped,” Ked’rec agreed.
“Okay, then. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
“We have reached our destination, Major Fitzgerald,” Ked’rec said into his radio. “And the canopic jar appears to be intact.”
Kathleen’s voice crackled over the radio in response. “Good. Still, be careful down there. Call if you need backup.”
“We will indeed,” Ked’rec replied.
Joe was already out of the circle of the ring transporter, exploring the small, sparse room. There was hardly anything in it except for a long low counter, glowing faintly yellow against the golden walls, on which sat a tall canopic jar inscribed with Goa’uld characters. His eyes flashed briefly, and when he spoke, it was with Orieth’s resonant voice. “Kresnik,” Orieth read from the jar.
“You are positive that the seal has not been broken?”
“Oh, yes, I’m fairly sure that I would be able to tell if the jar had been opened.” Orieth moved closer, reaching out one hand ever so slightly, but still not willing to touch it. “And the jar’s naquadah mechanisms are still operational, too, so if Kresnik is still in the jar, then he’s being kept alive.” Deep inside, Joe gave an involuntary shudder at the sensation of the naquadah close to his hand.
You’ll get used to it, Orieth reassured him yet again.
That’s what you said last time., Joe retorted. Hasn’t worked yet.
“Should we bring the canopic jar back up to the surface?” Ked’rec asked, breaking in on the internal dialogue.
“Oh, yes. I’m certain that they will want to take it back to the SGC for observation.”
The rings zipped up and down again, returning the Tok’ra, the Jaffa, and the jar to the surface. Hramov immediately rushed towards them. “Is that it? Do you have it? Let me see!”
Reinhart exchanged a quick glance with Kathleen, then cleared his throat loudly, stepping between Hramov and the jar. “Are you sure it’s in there?”
The Tok’ra’s eyes closed briefly, as Orieth gathered his concentration to speak in Joe’s voice. “The seal hasn’t been broken, and the mechanism is still working. But without some way of looking inside, we can’t know for certain whether Kresnik is inside.”
“Would an X-ray work on something like that?” Reinhart wondered.
Reluctantly, Kathleen turned to Hramov for confirmation. “I don’t think so…”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Hramov was already starting to puff up with pride at being an authority. “But there are…” He fumbled for the English words, then shook his head. “I have a friend who is a doctor at the university hospital. I think he may let us use some of the other kinds of scanners that they have there.”
“MRIs,” Joe muttered. “Great.”
GreenArmadillo
First Post
Ladybird said:
Glad I'm not the only one thinking "Snake in a jar, this can NOT end well..."
trexmaster
First Post
Tamlyn said:
Hmmm.. I'd rather bet on Fissile material (naquadah) + radiations (from the MRI) = Boom
Potentially at least, but I admit it wouldn't make any sense storywise.
So... maybe the MRI will disrupt the jar's mechanism, letting the go'auld get out and take a host.
Ladybird
First Post
*Special Note* - Returning after the Crash
Dear Folks,
By now, many of you are probably aware that EN World suffered a very bad database crash this week. The message boards have been restored to the condition they were on December 29, meaning that a good chunk of our updates have been lost.
But fear not! I've got backups of the entire Story Hour, and I'll be re-posting them ASAP. In the meantime, let's send good vibes to Morrus and all the folks behind the scenes as they continue making the necessary repairs to EN World so that we can all keep enjoying it!
Thanks for your patience, and thanks for reading!
--Ladybird
Dear Folks,
By now, many of you are probably aware that EN World suffered a very bad database crash this week. The message boards have been restored to the condition they were on December 29, meaning that a good chunk of our updates have been lost.
But fear not! I've got backups of the entire Story Hour, and I'll be re-posting them ASAP. In the meantime, let's send good vibes to Morrus and all the folks behind the scenes as they continue making the necessary repairs to EN World so that we can all keep enjoying it!
Thanks for your patience, and thanks for reading!
--Ladybird
Ladybird
First Post
Episode 1: Closer to Fine. Part 9 - I Went to See the Doctor of Philosophy
Joe sat uncomfortably on the edge of a chair in the waiting room of Pavlov State Medical University, a deep scowl wrinkling his face.
“I’m not a fan of hospitals either,” Kathleen offered gently, with a faint smile. Joe snorted, and turned away. On the other side of Kathleen, Hramov sat waiting with the stoic patience of someone who had grown up with Soviet-era lines. “So…your friend,” she ventured. “How’s his security clearance?”
“We have worked with him before,” Hramov said shortly, with a defensive lift of his chin. “He is not authorized to know what is in the things that we ask him to scan, but he is not worried about not knowing. And I will be with him at all times.”
The door to a back room opened, saving Hramov from any further awkwardness, and a balding man in a white coat stepped out. “Ah! Dr. Ivanov!” Hramov exclaimed.
Kathleen stood up, with a quick smile and a hand stretched out to shake Dr. Ivanov’s. “Hello,” she said, switching into Russian. “I’m Dr. Kathleen Fitzgerald, US Air Force. I’m very grateful that you’re letting us borrow your equipment.”
“You’re welcome, Doctor,” Ivanov replied. “We’ll run your…er…artifacts under our MRI, and see what we turn up.” He glanced uncertainly at Hramov, who nodded with his usual confidence. “I will explain the results,” Hramov declared.
Ivanov turned to lead the way into the back room, but Hramov lingered for a moment, turning back to Kathleen with a sharp stare, half accusing and half admiring. “You are a doctor? You never said that! I’m sorry I doubted you – I never knew - ”
“Oh, I’m not a medical doctor. I’ve got a PhD in computer science.” She grinned, hoping that Hramov couldn’t see the ironic edge in it. “But if calling yourself ‘Doctor’ is what it takes to get respect in some places, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Oh,” was all that Hramov could answer to that.
The door closed behind Hramov, and Kathleen turned back to the others. I know they’re not going to like this, she thought, but I really think we need to do it… Sitting back down in her uncomfortable waiting-room chair, she began slowly, “So, it’s been a bit of a challenge working with Dr. Hramov. He’s been very protective of the artifacts we’ve found, and I’m not sure he’d be willing to let us have as much access to them as we’d need. Or even to take them home with us. But I don’t think he’s a security risk, just that he’s a little overly protective. So…” She took a deep breath and said all at once, “I think we should take Dr. Hramov back with us.”
And then she waited for the storm of protest…that didn’t come.
“That may be the wisest course of action,” Orieth said.
Ked’rec nodded. “Indeed, my teacher often said that it was better to keep an enemy close at hand than to let him go far away.”
“Nobody’s saying he’s an enemy!” Kathleen protested. Yet. “I just think that we should have him with us. He’d probably be more willing to let us have access to everything we’ve found if he can be there to watch.” She smiled again, a little wryly. “Plus, I’ll probably be the one who will have to deal with him the most.”
Only Reinhart offered any resistance, and that was mostly in the form of worry. “Are you sure, ma’am? I wouldn’t want to trust him at my back…”
Kathleen shook her head. “He had you alone in the tunnels, and he had me alone last night with the notebook. If he wanted to hurt any of us, he could have done it then.”
She couldn’t hear Joe’s grumbled thought. You mean we’re going to have to be on the same team with a Russkie?
He will not technically be on the same team with us, Orieth soothed. Besides, I thought that that term had become obsolete.
The door to the scanner room opened, and Hramov and Ivanov stepped out. SG-17 looked up expectantly. “It is definitely present,” Hramov said, with a significant glance towards them. Ivanov gave them a good-natured shrug. “That’s what he says.”
Joe sat uncomfortably on the edge of a chair in the waiting room of Pavlov State Medical University, a deep scowl wrinkling his face.
“I’m not a fan of hospitals either,” Kathleen offered gently, with a faint smile. Joe snorted, and turned away. On the other side of Kathleen, Hramov sat waiting with the stoic patience of someone who had grown up with Soviet-era lines. “So…your friend,” she ventured. “How’s his security clearance?”
“We have worked with him before,” Hramov said shortly, with a defensive lift of his chin. “He is not authorized to know what is in the things that we ask him to scan, but he is not worried about not knowing. And I will be with him at all times.”
The door to a back room opened, saving Hramov from any further awkwardness, and a balding man in a white coat stepped out. “Ah! Dr. Ivanov!” Hramov exclaimed.
Kathleen stood up, with a quick smile and a hand stretched out to shake Dr. Ivanov’s. “Hello,” she said, switching into Russian. “I’m Dr. Kathleen Fitzgerald, US Air Force. I’m very grateful that you’re letting us borrow your equipment.”
“You’re welcome, Doctor,” Ivanov replied. “We’ll run your…er…artifacts under our MRI, and see what we turn up.” He glanced uncertainly at Hramov, who nodded with his usual confidence. “I will explain the results,” Hramov declared.
Ivanov turned to lead the way into the back room, but Hramov lingered for a moment, turning back to Kathleen with a sharp stare, half accusing and half admiring. “You are a doctor? You never said that! I’m sorry I doubted you – I never knew - ”
“Oh, I’m not a medical doctor. I’ve got a PhD in computer science.” She grinned, hoping that Hramov couldn’t see the ironic edge in it. “But if calling yourself ‘Doctor’ is what it takes to get respect in some places, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Oh,” was all that Hramov could answer to that.
The door closed behind Hramov, and Kathleen turned back to the others. I know they’re not going to like this, she thought, but I really think we need to do it… Sitting back down in her uncomfortable waiting-room chair, she began slowly, “So, it’s been a bit of a challenge working with Dr. Hramov. He’s been very protective of the artifacts we’ve found, and I’m not sure he’d be willing to let us have as much access to them as we’d need. Or even to take them home with us. But I don’t think he’s a security risk, just that he’s a little overly protective. So…” She took a deep breath and said all at once, “I think we should take Dr. Hramov back with us.”
And then she waited for the storm of protest…that didn’t come.
“That may be the wisest course of action,” Orieth said.
Ked’rec nodded. “Indeed, my teacher often said that it was better to keep an enemy close at hand than to let him go far away.”
“Nobody’s saying he’s an enemy!” Kathleen protested. Yet. “I just think that we should have him with us. He’d probably be more willing to let us have access to everything we’ve found if he can be there to watch.” She smiled again, a little wryly. “Plus, I’ll probably be the one who will have to deal with him the most.”
Only Reinhart offered any resistance, and that was mostly in the form of worry. “Are you sure, ma’am? I wouldn’t want to trust him at my back…”
Kathleen shook her head. “He had you alone in the tunnels, and he had me alone last night with the notebook. If he wanted to hurt any of us, he could have done it then.”
She couldn’t hear Joe’s grumbled thought. You mean we’re going to have to be on the same team with a Russkie?
He will not technically be on the same team with us, Orieth soothed. Besides, I thought that that term had become obsolete.
The door to the scanner room opened, and Hramov and Ivanov stepped out. SG-17 looked up expectantly. “It is definitely present,” Hramov said, with a significant glance towards them. Ivanov gave them a good-natured shrug. “That’s what he says.”
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