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Aberrant: Stargate Universe - Return from the dead


Mr Fox

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(Set two weeks before the current mission)

General O'Neill paced on the bridge of the Prometheus. He was more than happy to have the ship back. It had cost several billion dollars to make and it also had the Asgard core and upgrades that made more advanced than anything the Goa'uld could field. Having it and the Asgard warship gave Earth a strategic advantage that made a lot of people breath easier. So he was pleased. But, the ship had been reported as destroyed along with Colonel Mitchell and Major Wright. Had the other specialists been suspect in the destruction of the Ancient device? According to Mitchell's message they had been ignorant and he had acted alone. He slammed one fist into the palm of his other hand.

He wanted to hit a bulkhead, but knew better. It was a good thing that Mitchell hadn't returned, he would have had to court Marshall him and he had liked the man. He was a good officer, but he seriously disagreed with the man's decision. Not that he didn't believe that the IOA couldn't be trusted, but if the device could have been controlled then they could have enhanced all of the SGC personnel in minor ways, not the big crazy ways the Specialists had been, but just the simple things... stronger, faster, and tougher, and not to superhuman levels either, just enough to give them better survival chances. As far as O'Neill as concerned, any SGC member that died on a mission from now on would be on Cameron's head. He had taken away the possibility of them surviving.

He took a deep breath and sat in the Captain's chair and waited for the Specialist's to arrive. He needed to see their faces and see their reactions to Cam's message. Where they in league with him on this? Not that it mattered now, the device was gone and two men were dead, but he needed to know if they might pose a future issue with other technologies.

Back on base each of the Specialists received a summons. General O'Neill would like to meet with SG1 in the briefing room in 10 minutes.

Click to reveal..
Go ahead and post your arrival in the briefing room then I'll transport everyone aboard the Prometheus.
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The call went out via courier; airmen who waited for the general to decide he needed something done and then scurried off to do it. In this case, it was Airman Laura Daughtery who was sent to Specialist Wakiki Izumi’s office.

Office was a generous way to describe the small room which was given to Wakiki to use when he was on-call. Thus far, they hadn’t found a lot for him to do besides study policy and procedure. He’d spent the first few days figuring out how to turn off the mental crawling through any brain in range. Next, he’d turned his attention to the stack of manuals to read and study. That had nearly driven him to suicide; every last one was the single most boring thing he’d ever tried to plow through. So he’d taken it in chunks.

He was between two chunks when Airman Daughtery found him, using his personal laptop to work on a song. She opened the door and paused surprised by the music that was coming from the machine. Spec. Izumi looked up, then clicked something and let the tones fade away. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Uh, the general, I mean, General O’Neill, requests your presence in the briefing room in ten,” she managed to sputter out.

“Oh, this is one of those order-requests, right?” the Asian specialist asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes, it is! Completely.” Daughtery had heard that the specialists could be non-professional; she tried to keep her cool as the man stood up and tugged his BDUs straight. “Sir, can I ask a question?”

She got a smirk in reply. “You just did,” he replied.

“Um, I mean, that is-”

“Forget it, sorry, I have a bad sense of humor,” Izumi told her. “The military hasn’t scheduled me for the surgery to remove it yet, so I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with it.”

She giggled, then tried to stop. She was still smiling when she asked, “What song was that?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said, glancing at the machine. “Haven’t finished it.”

“That’s… wow, that was good,” she said, then realized she was gushing.

"Thanks." He gave her a smile and left, heading for the briefing room. Daughtery watched him go, then slipped to the laptop and started the song again - she had to hear it.

In the briefing room, Wakiki found the general himself, along with a couple others there already. "Howdy," he said to the general before taking a seat and putting his feet on the chair next to it. At the looks he got, he said, "I'm just saving a spot for my friend." His grin said which friend it was.

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Yseult was done in the lab for the day and was in her quarters, preparing to head out for an early dinner than an evening out with her husband. She had finally managed to learn a limited form of Aradia's metamorphic capabilities and her and François were still in the first flush of renewed intimacy. And tonight, they had a babysitter.

She switched her sensible work shoes for a pair of classy, high-heeled pumps, then altered Eufiber gifted to her from the Asgard from casual slacks/blouse combo and labcoat into a figure-flattering skirt-suit, which revealed the the dark stocking and garters she was wearing. A few deft touches with her elegant, precise fingers and several pin swept her hair up into a simple, attractive updo. Then she took a deep breath and focused inward, down to the molecular level, and gave a nudge here and there.

Slowly and steadily, Yseult's honey-hued locks faded to a glistening black, as her golden skin lightened to fair, creamy perfection. Then she glanced in the mirror. She saw the face she had accepted as her own, with a multitude of subtle changes refining it to flawless beauty. Yet with the simple alteration in colour and some faint touches of cosmetics, she could see more than a hint of her former appearance. Even better, so could François.

With the soft click-clack of her heels, Yseult sashayed to her door, then cocked her head a moment before opening it. A second later, there came a knocking at her quarter's door.

"Oui?" she answered coolly, pulling open the door.

Airman Doug Gilmour swallowed. He had been at the SGC as long as Doctor Dionne-Langlois and he remembered her when she was a bland-looking researcher. Then she became a blond-haired, half-Asian, gorgeous Specialist. A now, she was even more striking and statuesque, with the vaguest hints to her former plain appearance, and dressed to the nines. It was taking him time to keep adjusting and at the moment, he was wondering why he even bothered going back home to his shrew of a wife.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your afternoon, Doctor Dionne-Langlois," Gilmour managed to say, his voice a bit thick as he managed to pull his eyes away from the inviting depths revealed by the undone buttons of her turquoise blouse. "But the General, he's requesting the presence of the Specialists in the briefing room."

Merde. Yseult couldn't conceal her disappointed frown, then sighed and gave the Airman a nod. "D'accord, yes, I will go see him, right after I am calling my husband to postpone our evening, yes?" Airman Gilmour felt a pang at disrupting the stunning, elegant doctor's plans, but nodded sheepishly and left.

She called François, explaining the situation, and who seemed to take the disruption with greater understanding than she did, and made her promise to call him back as soon as possible, their night could still be salvaged. Promising with a grateful sigh, a smokey chuckled, and a heartfelt, 'Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, Yseult hung up and swiftly made her way to the briefing room, her heels rapping sharply against the cement floor.

Yseult was the first one there, the General looking regretful for interrupting her evening, and privately even more regretful about what he was going to reveal. She murmured a soft thanks and a cool, polite smile, but waved his concern away. "It is being a part of the job, yes?"

Yseult sat down primly, crossing her legs, silently hoping everyone would arrive soon and that the meeting would be over soon. When Wakiki entered, he received a small nod and a slight, distracted smile, as she occupied herself by replaying in her mind the night she and François had renewed intimacies in vivid detail.

She had a night to enjoy and a husband to ravish.

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  • 1 month later...

Aradia was the next to arrive, her hair still damp from what appeared to be a recent shower. Waki had discovered in the last week or so that when Ari wasn't forcing herself through trying to read more about past missions, or learning G'oauld, she spent a LOT of time at the gym, working out. In all honesty, it was enough to tempt him to start working out too, just so he could watch. Aradia had been amazing at her acrobatics before - now she was supernaturally stunning, and she could work out for a very long time before she broke a sweat, much less got tired and had to quit. Just thinking about it caused him a few problems, since undoubtedly it led him to thoughts of what else she could do for hours at a time without getting tired.

Wakiki dropped his crossed legs off of the chair when she arrived, causing Yseult to smirk slightly in amusement at their obviousness. She flipped the chair around to straddle it in typical Aradia fashion, but a glance and a slight clearing of the throat from the General caused her to pause mid-chair flip, and turn it back around to sit down the normal way. Once seated, she propped one foot up on the leg of the chair, and tilted it back, balancing precariously on the back two legs of the chair. Because that was so much more professional that straddling it.

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