Chapter 41
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Rachel
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"Alright, though we don't have anything to read them with." Daniel responded to my offer to look at some stuff together.
I frowned for a moment. "Give me a minute." I said, closing my avatar's eyes and concentrating.
After a couple of moments, I opened my eyes. "Well, if I may?" I asked, gesturing to the table.
"Uh, I guess." Daniel said.
"Right." I responded, and thrust out my hands. My internal fabricators activated, flash-forging nanomachines in tiny pits and guiding them out to the table, where I transformed the table into something a bit more.
When the mist returned to nothingness, there was a solid-looking, metal-and-glass table sitting there. Through the glass surface, one could see the crystalline elements of a holoprojector, that I had adapted from Goa'uld and Knowdraden technology.
"Oh come on." Sam rolled her eyes.
"Huh." Jack said. "I was expecting some sort of magical chanting as well."
"I have to wonder why you would have even needed us." Daniel said, pulling up a chair.
I pulled up my own chair. "Well, shall we get started?"
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"Well, before he started his cult, Mordred actually seemed to be legitimately afraid of something." Jack said, watching a mini-Mordred, pre-Vader-Obsidian-Knight-suit, give a speech on how the Destiny Expedition would lead to disaster.
"And then he started drinking his own kool-aid?" Daniel asked, looking up from a bunch of hospital reports. He was looking at how the draining affected the Ori cultists. Apparently there was a 50% mortality rate, and 60% of the survivors suffered from increasing mental illnesses, lessened energy, and cancer and autoimmune diseases. 20% of the survivors went into a coma for an extended period of time. Only 10% survived the process totally fine, and the Ori recruited from them to be Priors.
"I do not understand why drinking one's own alcoholic beverage is a sign of madness." Teal'c commented, while looking slightly upset at the Ori's religious text.
"For-" Jack sighed, "Kool-aid isn't alcoholic, T. It's an expression meaning that he believed his own B.S."
"Does your species behave similar to mine?" I asked. "There have been documented cases of mental scientists being cult leaders for research, only to begin believing in whatever doctrine their cult espoused."
"There were a few cases, but nothing conclusive." Daniel said. "How's your research going, Sam?"
Sam and I were looking at the recordings of the energy extraction. It was not going well.
"I am pretty sure that Ganos wasn't recording the things that she needed to in order to make sense of this complete nonsense. I'm tempted to throw my hands up and just say 'magic.'" Sam slumped in her chair.
"You know, there are about a million Lantean papers saying that about their lifesigns detector." I said suddenly. "I'd be willing to bet that there's a connection. Plus the Ancient Life-fountain."
"Life-fountain?" Daniel asked.
"It's this cube about two meters across, with a cut-in on each side. It's probably related to your myths of a spring of eternal youth. All the Lantean papers on it are basically 'what is this shit it's worse than the lifesigns detectors.' It's apparently really old, so it was probably brought from their home galaxy." I shrugged. "But of course given that the Lanteans usually went 'what is this shit' with the lifesigns detectors for 50 million years I doubt they could get whatever this is." I gestured to the holograms in front of us.
Sam tapped on her keyboard, closing a few graphs and bringing up medical diagrams. "Okay, even looking at the point of origin of that little point of light, it's different for different people and medical scans show no differences before and after people got drained."
"The Lanteans covered that." I said, pulling up some of the relevant diagrams. "They determined that the point of light came from one of the points here." I indicated the points within the heart, aorta, and pulmonary veins. "And they basically had no idea why. Of course they eventually decided to throw in the towel, say they had no clue, and de-ass the galaxy."
I had noticed something familiar about the whole situation, but there was a critical example between what I was remembering and what Merlin had written about. Which might not actually be a fundamental difference between the two, but what I thought it might be was from a different franchise. If it turned out that the two worlds were actually the same… well the SGC would be significantly braver for digging stuff up, and significantly stupider for digging stuff up.
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Eventually, the Altairan team got all tired out, and had to get sleep.
"Well, I will leave you humans to your sleep." I said, when Jack kicked his boots onto the table and leaned back his chair to start snoring. With that, I exited the house and beamed my avatar up.
In the meantime, well, my searches of Atlantis's databases had turned up the project I had been looking for information about. So, I could probably start moving forward in my Pegasus galaxy operations without worrying about poking it.
I dialed a wormhole to Atlantis and got moving. I was going to want to be in the galaxy, but I did have plenty of systems capable of dialing an interstellar gate.
Standing on the deck of the great city, I cracked my knuckles and watched the entire galaxy. Wormholes opened between Avalon and Pegasus, as troops streamed out. Once there, they proceeded to lay down mexes and energy plants before the wormholes cut off their supplies, leaving them to finish the work on their own. My assimilation macros did their job, letting them cover entire systems in only hours.
Then, the gate dialed in again, letting the bases get enough energy to activate interstellar teleporters. With that, they dropped off mobile nanite energy generators and Gulls in orbit of every single system without a Stargate.
And then the process began again.
And then that was it. I had managed to assimilate an entire galaxy in under a day, with no one the wiser.
That's a pretty heady feeling there, better watch it.