A Legacy left Behind - Initial encounters

Part 2

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Carson noted that Dr. Grodin was enthusiastically pawing away at what looked like a mechanical version of a squid, while Dr. Sommers was flitting around taking photos and making increasingly inappropriate noises. She was crooning at it for heaven's sake! He also noted the young Marine- Lt. Ford if Carson recalled correctly- keeping a wary eye on the thing as if it might come alive at some point to eat them. Knowing and having seen the things throughout the years since the discovery of the dreadful Stargate, Carson couldn't blame him.

Of course occupying the place of pride, elevated on its own grand, foot-and a-half high platform complete with its own hidden light source, bathing it in a soft shimmering blue, was the Control chair of the Outpost. That was the point where everything in the place was connected to and could be controlled from; the central nervous system, the Brain of Terra Atlantus. The huge gun metal gray chair with its distinctly alien swirls and curls of carved design looked like a throne. It always rested in an upright position and went into an incline and its vein-like design was flooded with luminescent blue, when it was activated.

Carson hated the thing with a passion. It always gave him a headache when he had to keep his head positioned at the uncomfortable headrest that emitted a buzzing hum, whenever he had to try to activate it. It was unpleasant in the extreme and made it hard to concentrate on whatever Rodney was harping at him to do at any given time. And those pads filled with gel-like substance on the armrests where he had to rest his palms, gave him a squishy feeling. They also made his palms itch like crazy.

He sat on it with a sigh of resignation. Rodney made his way to the nearest monitor that was blinking at him with technical jargon that made no sense to Carson.

"Activate the Chair Carson-Sometime today would be good," McKay snapped at him without turning from his perusal of the scrolling data the monitor had on it.

"Aye Rodney, I'm trying, give me a minute."

Carson closed his eyes and concentrated. Or he tried his best. He thought of his happy place in Scotland, the nice green meadow covered in soft sunlight instead of the cold hard alien metal that was digging into his bum in silent protest.

After what felt like hours but was mere minutes in reality, the Chair gave an almost angry buzzing noise and went into a half-hearted incline. A soft blue light came on surrounding the chair reluctantly, mimicking its occupant.

"Yeah that's right. Now, think about the power management and ask it to run a diagnostic starting from the left wing."

When nothing happened, Rodney abandoned the display he was intent on and came closer to the doctor.

"Come on Carson, concentrate. I have a bad feeling about this and we need to see what is going on. You know this whole place went into a tizzy before we brought that flyboy in. We need to find out if things have gone back to their normal settings. So we need your head in the game Carson, chop chop."

'Of course, Rodney being his uniquely helpful self is not really helping my concentration in the least.' The doctor thought sarcastically.

He briefly wondered if Major Sheppard had managed to eat his breakfast. Big mistake! His own stomach chose that moment to remind him loudly that he hadn't eaten yet either.

The monitor attached to the Chair detected a brief flare of power but failed to pinpoint the location it was sent to. It pinged in alarm and Rodney rushed back to the screen with a muttered oath.

"Okay. No, no, no, no... that is not good-Carson what was that? What did you just think at it now?"

"That I was hungry Rodney-I can't think about power management when I'm hungry," Carson snapped back exasperatedly at the scientist whose mutterings were increasing in velocity and sound, as he tried to pinpoint the source of the power surge.

The Chair chose that moment to suddenly go into full incline and half rotate. The soft blue glow emanating from it, brightened briefly. Carson let out a terrified squeak at the sudden movement, but wisely did nothing to move from his position.

Simultaneously, startled shouts and a short scream erupted from the platform, Doctors Grodin and Sommers were working on. Before anyone could even begin to react, the squid they were working on, burst into a bright golden flare and took off in a blink. It went horizontal for a tenth of a second before re-orienting and taking off in a straight vertical line- like the suddenly online guided missile it was. It was through the roof and out of their sight in less than two seconds. Then the hidden door on the roof that had cycled open to let the thing out, swished closed; raining down ice and snow that had come loose at the heated departure of the missile. Impromptu cold showers broke everyone from their frozen states into action.

Rodney cursed loudly as he ran to the nearest emergency alarm and slammed it on. Lt. Ford ran to the telephone near the wall that had the direct line to McMurdo to let them know that there was an airborne bogey with an unknown payload now roaming the sky. Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Dr. Daniel Jackson came running towards the Chair to see what was going on.

"Ah Elizabeth, talk to him. He just fired an Ancient equivalent of a missile to god knows where. You need to get him to shut it down NOW!" Rodney wailed.

"Sir we have a problem. McMurdo tells me a chopper just took off and on its way here. They are may be 15 minutes out. It's General O'Neill's transport; he is making an unscheduled visit." Pale-faced Lieutenant Ford contributed to the brewing disaster.

"Ah McKay, it took off before we disconnected the power source. I'm 95% sure it's got a miniature ZPM onboard powering it. I don't know if we can shut it off from the Chair now that it's taken off," Dr. Grodin carried the apocalyptic football towards the home stretch.

Inside a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk

En Route to Defense Outpost

Antarctica

"Sir, we just got an emergency update from the Outpost. They have an unauthorized missile launch. Destination unknown. We are advised to RTB." The somewhat agitated pilot of the Black Hawk informed General O'Neill who was looking outside from his window.

"It's too late for that now I think, Richardson, We are going to have to duke it out.'" The General observed mildly as he looked at the ominous trail of smoke that was rapidly closing in on them from a distance.

"Try to zigzag and launch some countermeasures. And try to evade it enough so we could land this bird and pray it will just ignore us." He felt obliged to backseat pilot, since the on duty pilot was looking increasingly worried and a bit lost.

O'Neill idly wondered if this was the first time this kid saw any live action.

'Just my luck', he had time to wonder, 'I'm going to die with a rookie on his first mission in this god forsaken frozen hellhole.'

'Carter had better fry the asshole who is murdering me today.' Thought the General in resigned apathy as he watched the smoke trail getting closer and closer.