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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ladybird" data-source="post: 2818137" data-attributes="member: 10689">Episode 2: Don't Drink the Water. Part 1 - CoordinationDecember 22, 2010When the members of SG-17 awoke, the SGC was even busier than when they had left. The booted feet of uniformed SG teams pounded through the corridors on their way to and from missions and meetings; technicians rushed to and fro with blue-covered reports; and every few minutes, the looping blare of the siren that signaled an off-world gate activation from some team returning or checking in.Kathleen, coffee mug in hand, dodged and weaved through the crowds as she made her way towards the Think Tank. She could tell, as she looked at the straight back and squared shoulders of the man who sat at one of the computers, that Orieth was in control even before he spoke. “Ah. Major. I believe I have successfully transferred the coordinates from the tablet reader.”“Good,” Kathleen nodded, taking another long sip of coffee before she rolled over a chair next to Orieth and sat down. “What have you got?” “Well, they seem to match up to a sector of the galaxy where the Tok’ra have been active in the past, but I haven’t been able to confirm it.”Kathleen blinked. “Tok’ra? Really?” She leaned forward, reaching out – with steady hands, to her great relief – to type in a series of commands. “Hm. It looks like that matches up with P2X-721.” She pushed one last key, and the array of stars and planets on the screen tilted, zoomed, and refocused. “There – does that look familiar?”Orieth leaned in, studying the screen intently. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes, it does. I have never been there myself, but I believe that that is a Tok’ra base.”“Then what was he doing with those coordinates?” Kathleen muttered, shaking her head at the screen.“Ahem. Excuse me, Major Fitzgerald?” Airman Williams, young, bespectacled, and slightly nervous-looking, was hovering by the door.“Yes, Airman?”“There’s a guest here for you, ma’am. A Dr…Ramov?”“Hramov,” Kathleen sighed heavily, exchanging a glance with Orieth as she stood up. “I’ll go deal with him. I’m sure I can get one of the archaeologists to babysit him while we’re working on other things.” She reached down to get her coffee mug, and sighed again. “And while I’m getting more coffee.”**“HIKE!”The thunderous voice of a Marine echoed around the SGC’s gym, and ten large, beefy men sprang into action. Well, technically, five men and five male Jaffa. It was the weekly Jaffa-versus-Marines football game – as soon as there were enough Jaffa on the SGC staff, the Marines had immediately started teaching them the rules of American football.Ked’rec took it in stride, as he did everything else, filing the complex rules away in his mind, and diligently going about his assigned duties as a running back. Today’s scrimmage, however, was broken up by the voice of Airman Williams, straining to be heard over the shouting and scuffling. “Ked’rec? Er…Ked’rec, sir?”Ked’rec untangled himself and straightened up as the gym gradually fell silent. “Yes?”“SG-17 is wanted in the briefing room, sir. At 1600 hours. You’re getting another mission.”“I shall be present,” Ked’rec replied. “My apologies,” he added to the others, with a courteous nod, and started to head back to his quarters.</blockquote>

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