Asid frowned down at the report in his hand, his other hand holding onto a mug as he took a sip. The reports from, what he jokingly called "The Outside", or anywhere not the SGC & the commands he talked to on a regular basis, were far from good. China rattling it's saber again, and Russia seeming split on which side of, what looked to be, a looming war it wished to be on. "Typical." Asid muttered, wryly. "I step out of the field, and then things get interesting." He grimaced, as one of his hands involuntarily ran over his chest and the memories of old injuries. "And that, Asid," He said out loud. "Is why you don't wind up getting peppered with birdshot."

He shook his head, as he stepped out of the break room, in reality just a little closet with drink materials. Or, as he loved to call it, "The Toxic Coffee Niche". "Need to start a cafe by that name, I swear." He muttered, taking a sip of his drink. "Too much syrup." He grumbled, making a face, as he slipped down the hall, rounding a corner and surprising a young pair of soldiers. "As you were." Asid said, without giving them a second look, as he slipped past and into his office.

"Alright, and what does the good, all-seeing MALP provide for us today?" He asked, dropping into his seat with a thud! and a contented grunt.

"Forested world, distant castle-like structure. No evidence of high technology, but, can't rule it out. Even if no technology, useful materials may be present. As always." Asid muttered. "Intel needs to stop pointing out the obvious. I may be human and American, but I'm not an idiot." He took a sip of his drink. "And the last few times they said that, I had to send in the Battalion as a follow up expedition to ensure any and all problems were taken care of. Good practice for them." He nodded, as he turned to his computer, calling up which units were on call. As always, the first three SG teams were on rotation. "Back in the hotseat, boys and girls." Asid muttered.

Stephanie sat behind her computer, typing away on a report to file, concerning the recent notes of Brotherhood activity on Earth, but it was such a dry well of information. In the corner, her little radio was playing some rock and roll quietly, since blasting it had gotten her in trouble. For some reason, Stephanie had thought they would have soundproofed the offices better, but cest la vie.

Despite the best efforts of the various intelligence communities of the primary Gate Alliance nations (CIA, NSA, MI5, MI6, DSGE, SVR, FSB, MSS, etc), the lack of available intelligence has made determining further actions by the Imperial Brotherhood difficult at best. Due to the unpredictable (and unstable) nature of much of it's leadership (as noted in Attachment II, outlining known psychological profiles), means that without solid intelligence, we will continue to be at the mercy of future attacks. Stephanie typed. She knew the next part was not going to sit well with the boss or really anyone at Langley or Washington, but it had to be said.

Due to a lack of effort to infiltrate the Brotherhood properly, targeted killings are recommended to end. As demonstrated during US SOCOM operations from 2001-2011 to hunt OBL, a more comprehensive cooperation between intelligence and Tier One assets needs to be put into place. Internal investigations needs to be permitted broader powers to identify personnel that have been compromised, and said personnel should be arrested and tried rather than killed outright. The lack of intelligence has given the Imperial Brotherhood free reign over all operations, and the failure of military and civilian leadership to properly handle the matter has continued to allow this state of affairs to continue. In closing, the Imperial Brotherhood has become a monster of our own creation, and due to either a lack of effort or a heavy handed application of force, we have allowed their continued disruption of operations, and therefore, must change our approaches, or continued to suffer setbacks, destruction of property, and more importantly, loss of life.

Stephanie looked over what her report said. No, she was going to make enemies with what she suggested, that much was clear, but once she had some time to look over the papers, it was plain as day to her that somehow, an enemy led by incompetent former US Military officers was now able to interfere, at will, with any operation conducted, and that either no one was doing a thing about it, or the higher ups were just killing people left and right without interrogating them. It was probably going to sit less well that she called the latter out, but the trail of bodies was piling up fast, and actionable intelligence was not.

Still, this sort of work did appeal to her in the end, because the whole reason she joined the CIA was due in part to how she enjoyed reading the earlier works of Tom Clancy involving Jack Ryan, as well as John Clark. SG-1, well, that was the last piece, where she got to be Jason Bourne, more or less. And if the big wigs didn't like what she had to say, well, next time, don't tell her to write up a recommendation to submit, that was her logic.

She printed up the document, saving an encrypted copy in two separate locations, one being the SGC's own servers, and the other was a remote secure CIA server. Stephanie organized the pages, stapled the corner, and then turned off her radio as she exited her office. Even in the Intelligence Section, she never quite looked like she belonged. Most everyone here were in business casual or casual uniforms, she was among the very few who wore SGC fatigues here. Her first stop was to get the report put into a secure folder, and then into a secure transport case, which included an electronic lock and two separate tracking systems. Normally, her next stop would have been to Colonel MacKenzie's office, but this was a special case, and went straight to the top. So, grabbing her tablet bag, leather jacket, and bike helmet, she headed out to the parking lot for her Triumph Daytona 600.

Firing up the bike, she made the rather short trip to the main building. She was already greeted by an Air Force SF, since they had been informed of her arrival and what she had on her. Not that she needed it, Stephanie always wore her Glock 19 in a thigh drop holster on her left thigh and her M&P Compact under her fatigues blouse, but security was there for a reason.

"Morning, Airman." Stephanie said as she handed over her ID card. As it would happen, it was Senior Airman Irene Hanley, her neighbor. Irene nodded and ran the card through, before handing it back.

"Morning. Follow me." Irene said. Stephanie followed her in, knowing the way perfectly well to the offices, but had to be escorted nonetheless. Normally, the two were fairly talkative, and Stephanie knew that Airman Hanley had an older sister who was a SEAL that she looked up to, and was seeing someone in town, and Hanley knew plenty about her in turn, but here, it was business as usual.

They came to a stop outside of the General's office, to which she knocked. "General, it's McMillan. I'm here with that intel report for you to review before kicking it up the chain."

William sighed lightly as he looked over his new but temporary desk in SG-2's office. He didn't feel all to right sitting where Sam was supposed to be, but some personal issues had seen to it that William was now sitting behind SG-2's CO desk, having to fill out a number of requests and write up a good number of reports related to past exploratory missions after Christmas holidays. Much to William's disbelief he was actually doing well, maintaining and organizing SG-2's paperwork, and hadn't had a bad mission at all since September, all in all 2026 was turning out to be a good year so far. As he thought on the success' of the new year, a small smile began to creep across his face; that and he had also just finished the day's last report. Looking over his work his smile grew, and before long he was on his feet and heading out of the room to get something to eat.

It was funny William was never one to really eat so late, but with all the new duties and paperwork placed on his lap had seen to him not having enough real time to do much, more so since he had been surprised by the amount of work Sam had to deal with being in charge of SG-2; made him wonder what Smith went through before he left. Either way William was quick to dismiss the thoughts the moment he arrived at the mess hall, and after fixing himself something to eat he found himself a table, once seated he began to eat. As he ate he pulled out his cell, before looking over the contacts listing before finding Peyton's cell number. He knew he couldn't actually call her or text her due to where she was, but it always helped make him feel better to look at the picture he had over the number. It was a pic of her after she had fallen into his parents small pond in their backyard. Just the memory was enough to help him get through the day.

Jason yawned as he held his arms clasped together over his head and reached for the ceiling above. He felt several pops as he rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. The Corporal had kept himself rather busy. When he wasn't on mission or standby he made it a habit to help out with the Cadre when allowed. He did enjoy that place quite a bit.

On a side note his Christmas turned out to be alright as well. He got to see the good old boys from his old team which was cool. Even meeting the new member. That boy could shoot rather well but nowhere near as good as Jason could. At least that's what he told himself.

The Delta Sniper often spent his time between the range and running a few courses. But compared to the Q-course this place was a cakewalk. Hell Ranger School was harder. But maybe that was just the way he was cut. He survived the worse the US army could through at him and still begged for more. Just went to show what kind of man he had become through the years.

Despite that fun bit Jason was somewhat saddened to learn his father had lung cancer. Honestly he couldn't understand how. The man didn't smoke...often. he had a cigar every now and then. Regardless he knew his father was strong, he could beat it. All the bad news aside he had a fairly good time with his family when they came to visit. He even managed to get the members of SG-3 some gifts...mainly flavored coffees. Figured he would share his niche'.

Mentally he kicked himself for not getting the Cadre staff anything. Despite the aura he gave off Jason knew that they did teach him quite a bit. While from the outside his cup looks to be quite full, there's always just a little more room to receive a lesson.

He walked down the halls in his ACU Multi cam. A combat shirt and the pants. No pads or vest. He didn't even have his coat on. No need really but he had it over his shoulder regardless. He planned to head over to SG-3's office area. That would be a nice stroll. Besides he figured there was something that could use his attention. If not then he would devote his attention to chasing skirts...or maybe just one god willing. But she was a tough nut to crack. Of course that was the issue with older women. They knew the game and could play it better.

Jason was right on time returning to duty. His eyes looked a little blood shot, as he had been working on something since their time off. Not only that, they'd been given just enough time for him to check out a new club with the Coburns and inevitably got a bit buzzed that night. He recovered well though since he didn't go overboard, and once well rested he promptly opened the present Asid had given him amongst the rest of SG1's presents. Thus his Christmas day had started a little late, but it was of no concern since he wasn't going anywhere until they were called back to the SGC.

He was thankful for the time left, because the present was a surprise Jason had never in his life anticipated. It took him a while to figure out what it was for, and after some intense inspection, he almost convinced himself to call Asid but didn't want to bug him. Then when he heard vehicles move around outside, he realized it was for his car, not his computer. It was an artificially intelligent chip and dashboard device to install into his Mustang. The heavens opened and the angels sang, so he spent the rest of the day and worked into the night adding protocols and interacting with his new found friend, an artificially intelligent being. Now he could talk to his car without looking like an idiot!

"Every sentient being has a name they like to call themselves, and in some cases it is given to them. What is yours?" Jason asked later after the installation, figuring that since the AI was already created it probably already had a name or had a right to choose its own.

"Designation is Iota." The AI could speak in the tone of a male or female, but it chose female.

"It’s a pleasant surprise to meet you, Iota. I’m Jason McCallister."

"I know, I have already searched for the validity of this answer and found your file. Is this data correct?"

That made Jason even more surprised, his tired eyes widening. "Yes, all data is accurate. You’re showing off a little, aren’t you?"

As time passed, Jason became short on sleep, he’d spent all his time talking with the AI being, and showing it around when the roads looked clearer. He wanted to learn as much as he could about it and he wanted to get to know them. And better yet, he would always be in touch with a communicator in the form of a watch. He knew it was possible he could sync up communication to his phone, but he would have to take the time to program it some other time. Iota was learning about the SGC and understood that he would be gone a lot, but there were high chances of him returning rather than not because he always tried his best to make it back alive with his team right behind him.

"I’ll be at the Atrium for a while, Iota. Um, make yourself at home so to speak, just try not to get into trouble. And please, don’t run off with that Mustang figure you now have, it’ll raise a lot of attention and we don’t need the havoc. I promise I will make time to get another drive when I return from duty again." He said, patting the Mustang with a chuckle as he left the garage. "That will not be a problem, Jason. Good luck."

He made sure the watch communicator was activated and the battery was fully charged before the garage door fully closed. "Someone owes the General a very enthused thank you." An excited smile spread across his face and he made a dash for work, letting no obstacle stand in his way by use of good ole Parkour.

Right on time, Jason clocks in at the Atrium and heads for his office, making a stop in the mess hall along the way for a Monster energy drink which he was unfortunately rather addicted to. Hey they helped burn calories, why not?

Asid blinked, slowly, as he glanced back at the door. He let out a long breath. ~Alrght, Asid, time for work. Quit enjoying the news.~ He thought to himself, letting out a brief chuckle. "Come in, McMilan." He called, as he leaned over to the side, fixing himself a fresh cup of tea from the mini-fridge he kept in a corner. "So, how's the world working today?" He asked, gesturing for her to sit.

Audie had enjoyed the break, taking time to learn to play the harp that Asid had gotten her, and to just relax and make the most of life for a while. But, of course, life continued, and work came around again, so when the teams were recalled, there was a sense of relief, of anticipation. While she liked some time away, it was always like coming home when she returned to the SGC.

Hoping to have time for a quick bite to eat, she headed to the mess hall and ordered a salad and peach milkshake, then looked around for a table. Spotting William, she went over smiled sweetly at him, holding her tray.

"You mind if I join you?" she asked.

  • Chief Warrant Officer Jim Miller, United States Army
    • Team Member, Stargate Command Team 2
    • Pikes Peak Gun Club, Colorado Springs
  • Captain Felix Jacobs, United States Army Force (PCNPC)
    • Commanding Officer, Stargate Command Team 10
    • Pikes Peak Gun Club, Colorado Springs
  • Staff Sergeant Marcus Jacobs, United States Marine Corps (PCNPC)
    • Commanding Officer, Stargate Command Team 8
    • Pikes Peak Gun Club, Colorado Springs
  • February 28th, 2013
    • February 20th, 2026

A group of almost 40 men and women stood in a gaggle, each wearing some form of chest covering body armor, ear and eye protection, and the ever veritable plethora of carbines and side arms, everything from the ever cheap $800 dollar AR, to some of the most spectacular custom rifle platforms in the world. Each as unique as their owners.

Two men stood before them, one man affectionately know by the nick name 'Beard', one Chris Costa the other man clad in multicam and the FFW AWAS armor, with not only the the 1st Ranger Battalion scroll, but also the badge of SG-2 adorning his sleeves.

Chief Warrant Officer Two Miller, stood legs slightly apart his Mk.17 resting lightly in his hands, Bear standing over his shoulder cracking the typical joke, something about his bear and bullets, it never changed. Jim smiled and shook his helmeted head, giving a nod as Costa asked if he was ready.

Laid out before Jim, Costa and the class of almost 40 people was an "J" shaped course, the top cross of the J required the shooter to engage close range targets with not only their carbine but their sidearm, from various shooting positions. The leg of the J was a long range portion, requiring both speed and accuracy to engage another serious of targets, some stationary, some moving, some requiring the shooter to move. Form cover to cover while engaging another series of targets this time off handed with one hand. It was the culmination of a three day advanced shooters course that was hosted by Chosta, whom had asked Jim to join them as a special guest and trainer.

It had been a nice excuse to get off post, and shoot his weapons the non-military way, very restricted and controlled, unlike the environment that many of his brothers and sisters in arms found themselves in every day.

He was snapped back to reality by Costa's loud voice in his ear. "Shooter has indicated ready! Stand bye!"

A few seconds passed before a loud beep was emitted from the timer that Costa held in his hand above Jim's head. Jim's rifle snapped up, the safety flicked off, and his finger laid over the trigger all in one smooth motion as his cheek found the cheek rest on his stock and his eye acquired the target.

For the next 3 minutes all that was heard was the sound of foot falls in gravel, the constant ping of 7.62mm and .40 caliber bullets hitting steal, of magazines being unloaded and replaced, the swapping of weapons, and of the strong huffing of a man in action.

Finished, Jim safed his weapon and looked at the time, it wasn't bad just under 3 minutes, 2.54.45 to be exact. He accepted his spent magazines from the members of the course that had picked them up, he tucked each back into his plate carrier and the rest into the HSGI taco drop leg on his left leg.

As Miller stepped back, he could hear the soft crunch of gravel behind him. Two someones had approached. "Not bad shooting, Chief." A deep voice rumbled from behind him, one that sounded more suited to smooth jazz than to everyday conversation. A slightly higher voice, but no less exotic, chipped in a second later. "Don'tcha mean 'Sheriff'?" The sound of high-impact flesh-on-flesh resounded.

Miller hung his head slightly chuckling, "I wasn't sure the Boss was gonna let you two out side the wire, no offense of course to the Captain." He said turning, a grin on his face, he shifted the mags to his left hand and offered his right, "So rumor mill was true you guys were gonna come get some range time."

"Negatory." Felix chuckled, his height lording over his shorter, squatter, brother. "Still jus' a rumor, we're just here to pester you." Marcus just shook his head, slapping his brother in the back of the head, causing the same loud flesh-on-flesh-sounding smack. He glanced Miller over, then darted his eyes towards his brother, and rolled them, in a silent assessment of his brother. "So, how's life in SG-2 been?" Marcus interrupted, as his brother was about to open his mouth again.

"2, 4 not much difference, main line team and all. Plus, I've been pulling extra shifts, guess the MP company's been having a hard time keeping people around ha."

"Yeah, well, it's a big base. Over three thousand people." Marcus muttered. "Plenty of people, just not enough with the temperament to make good MPs." He shrugged, quietly. "Least it's not as bad as when we had to deploy a couple SG teams and part of the QRF to back up the MPs. That was a disaster." He ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah, I heard some talk about when that happened, I'm happy I wasn't around for that. Ha, Jesus that would have been something especially knowing the temperament of some of the teams and their commanders, " He said finishing replacing his mags, "So really your just here to annoy me?"

"Nah, I'm here to use the range, and Felix is more here to annoy everyone. Kinda what he does. Why the General keeps him 'round, I'll never know." Marcus shook his head, brushing a fleck of invisible dust off his sleeve.

"'Cuz I outrank you, bro." Felix said.

"Yeah, and I can still kick your ass. Frigging airhead." Marcus grumbled. "Now go bug someone else, I have to work for a living."

Miller simply laughed, "You guys really are cute, I hope you know that. So what's up, Staff?"

Both of them turned to give him a withering gaze. "Oh, you want cute?" Marcus retorted, before Felix cut him off. "Shoulda seen the old bosses and Asid go at it. Hell, me an' Marc, this is normal. General's Yu and Chan would bicker like kids over a toy, and Mjolnir's trying to get them to focus. And turn down the music. Ears still ringing from how loud they turned that shit up."

"Yeah well at least the idiots got what was coming too them," He said shaking his head, "I'll start calling you two Yu and Chan if you keep it up."

Both men, again, in unison, gave him a look that promised retribution. "Don't you even dare." Felix hissed. Ooh, struck a cord. "Yeah, Area 51, whole standoff. Both of us led teams there. I promise, if I never see a desert again, it'll be too soon." Marcus grumbled. "And if I never hear the words 'Groom Lake'. Biggest lie ever told. No lake."

"Groom Lake?" Said questioningly, a grin on his face as he took the preparatory step back words to book it from the brothers.

"GET HIM!" Felix howled, as both men began to charge after him.

"Well, on the personal front, just fine. On the professional front...not so much." Stephanie said as she stepped in. Airman Hanley shut the door behind them. Stephanie opened her satchel and set the report on Asid's desk.

"This would be the report I've made, to be submitted to you and however else it has to be distributed, though I assumed it was going to be seen by the IOA and Homeworld Command staff, so yeah, that's why it's 250 pages of intelligence lingo." Stephanie said as she took a seat.

"I'll give you the cliff notes now though: we're screwed. We have a pile of bodies, no actionable intelligence, and from what I can tell, because half of those in charge want to keep offing any suspected traitors and the other half don't, nothing's getting done as a result." Stephanie explained, "Sir, I'll be flat out honest. There's no way we should be losing to these people, boss. Their leader is a failed US Air Force officer who botched a scheme to take over an expedition, and most everyone under him is either an egotistical maniac, a psychopath, or both. And yet, here we are. At any minute, they can blow up a shipyard, kill any number of people on Earth, steal whatever they want, and there is not a bloody thing we can do, because we're too busy either doing nothing, or killing people like it's a bad action movie. I hope someone listens to me on this, because otherwise, the Enigma are going to be the least of our problems unless they plan on taking over in the next year and a half or so."

Asid made a face. "Spook, nobody wants to start shooting people who used to be on our side. Meanwhile, he's a pain, yes, but... the problem is there're always going to be people who support him. So long as he has that support, and people who aren't total failures to make sure everything goes right, they can disappear into the woodwork for a little bit. And the idiots Homeworld wants to send after him tend to make too much noise, especially when there're people on the inside still backing him."

Asid took a sip of his tea, his eyes focusing off into the distance for a moment. "Well, the Enigma, hrm." He put his cup down, slowly swirling it around. "So far all contact with them has been space-based, but for the 2079 incident. With most of the fleet out of commission like it was, and new ships being built, not too much can be done about them."

Stephanie leaned back, "Sir, that's not the point. Yeah, this guy's a lunatic, and so's his inner circle, but the dangerous ones are the ones we don't have a clear read on. And that's where the problem is. We have nothing for actionable intelligence, and what little we do get, it's ether compromised, or we go out and kill them. Honestly, boss, it's getting to the point where no amount of black ink is going to cover the pile of bodies we have."

She took a deep breath, this part was not going to be good. "There's more, and that's not part of the report. I don't have all of the details, my source is mainly some talk at Langley, but... someone's trying to put one-and-one together, especially after that Senator went missing. Either Washington's looking for a scapegoat now, or it's a naive effort to drag black ops out into the open for "transparency". And just a heads up, they're going to target people with black ink in their records, and... we're both at risk, among half a dozen people just in the SGC alone. There's a gust front coming, boss, and it's a big one. I'll keep my ear to the ground, and divert what I can, but I don't know what I can do... and I've got a rather nasty skeleton in my closet..."

"What senator?" Asid asked, letting feigned curiosity show. "Spook, I can't promise to take care of everyone, but I take care of my own." He said, quietly shuffling papers on his desk, careful to keep some of it hidden. "By my own, I mean the SGC. I'll do what I can to keep Washington off our backs, but it's not so much them I'm worried about. We all have our skeletons in the closet."

"Well, if you missed the news, a US Senator has suddenly disappeared. Well, this was about six months ago, maybe longer, and it's become a huge thing with intel folks as of late. Some say he was a dead weight, dragging down pro-Gate Alliance measures. No reason, and then poof, gone." Stephanie explained, "And oh boy, the suspect list goes all over the place. IB, political opponents, the Illuminati, SGC, it's like reading the list of who shot JFK."

"At any rate, sir, that's the news, and my report. I wish it was better news, but...them's the skids. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" Stephanie asked.

Ian waved off a salute as he walked down the hall towards Asid's office, he'd been happily in his new office at the Raven Rock Military Complex, the new Headquarters for the Special Operations Command wing of Homeworld Command.

But that had all be spoiled when a young intelligence analysts who reminded him of a young Jack Ryan played by Ben Affleck, came bursting into his office with a tablet in hand, and red in the face. Barely managing to get out a sentence without passing out.

It was a report from the SGC, and non-other than the SGC's very own Jack Ryan of sorts, one Stephanie McMillan, known as 'Spook' by her peers and the chain of command in the SGC. Ian read the first paragraph, before he was up and out of his chair, heading for the beaming room located in Raven Rock.

He'd bounced from Site-R to the SGC, he knew he'd hear about it later but this Agent McMillian was onto something, and he knew that Asid and himself had to discuss it, and it had to be done.

Pushing open the door, with out knocking he began; "Asid we need to talk about this," He said waving the tablet, before he fully took in the room; a rookie mistake. As the room was not occupied by Asid alone, but another figure, and from her looks it was the same lady whom had wrote the report that was in his hand.

"Well just the two individuals I was looking for." He finished lowering the tablet and fully closing the door, "Hope I wasn't interrupting anything?"

Asid put on his best poker face, as he watched Stephanie. "Well, senators, hm. Perhaps he fell down some black hole, in terms of making the wrong deals?" He suggested, lightly. "Rumor on the hill was he wasn't the most purest of senators. As for anything else? Mm, not that I can think of; just tell the story right." He opened his mouth to say more, before he was interrupted by the door opening.

As Ian barged in, sticking his foot in his mouth, Asid just let loose with a facepalm. "Isn't it customary, sir, to knock before one enters? What if I had been with my wife?" He deadpanned. "Seriously, retiree-age people these days, no respect or manners."

Mission #24: "Hell Hath No Fury"
Chapter #1: "A House Divided" | Chapter #2: "Admirals, Generals, & Spooks" | Chapter #3: "Paperwork, Utility Closets, & the Odd Briefing" | Chapter #4: "Get to the Meeting!" | Chapter #5: "Ghosting Along" | Chapter #6: "All in a Day's Hike" | Chapter #7: "Silly Ghost Tricks Are For Spooks" | Chapter #8: "It's Life, Jim" | Chapter #9: "We Tried the Nice Approach"

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