A large starship floated in space above the blue orb that was the planet Earth. The ship was grey, its form a combination of wedge and hammer shapes. At its bridge room two beings, one standing and one sitting in a throne – like chair, observed in silence the incoming information from the active communications console. Both were deliberately keeping away from the part of the console that would have projected their bodies in a hologram to the place they were listening in, a military complex deep into a mountain. A sound of disengagement of the device called by its creators Astria Porta was heard.
“Boy, is she gonna get it.” A voice the two space observers knew to belong to Daniel Jackson, an archaeologist an linguist, a man whose moral integrity had left very strong impression on the members of the advanced civilizations he had met.
“My heart bleeds.” Another, sarcastic voice quipped, and the silent listeners looked at each other. That was the voice of Jack O’Neill, a man in his early forties, a veteran soldier who had made the first contact with the Asgard, at least from the Earth side. In an ironic twist, the contact was made because the man had literally blundered into what the human listener had been looking for the last few months. It was this event that had convinced the Asgard to offer protection to the civilization known in this galaxy as the Tau'ri. It was also the reason for the advanced human once known as Alexander Harris to change his plans about keeping an eye on his people from afar.
“Well.” The man said after disengaging the communication device. “That’s one mission accomplished. The Goa’uld have accepted the treaty.”
“You are worried.” Thor noted.
“I don't like this.” The man said with a shrug. “These half – truths I need to feed them. It would be way too easy for me to become comfortable and let slip something, and then things will become more complicated than they need to be. And I certainly can't tell them what really happened, can I?”
“I understand.” The Asgard nodded.
The Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet Waited until his quash - Alteran companion took position beside him, and then touched device build into the throne – like chair, and the two disappeared into a swirl of lights, to reappear a moment later in the SGC’s conference room. At that moment, only general Hammond was there, sitting on the table reading something. Upon the arrival of the Asgard, with human in tow, two SF guards rushed in. Hammond stopped them with a wave of a hand. The robe – clad human stepped forward.
“Greetings, General Hammond. My name is Alexander Moros” He glanced at Thor. “I’m told you are the one I need to ask when seeking access to my people’s old home.”
“Thor?” Hammond looked at the diminutive alien.
“Alexander is a member of civilization we kept in contact with for a long time.” Thor explained. “His people are mostly gone now. He wishes to lend assistance in the struggle against the Goa’uld.”
Hammond’s eyes stopped on the young man. “What happened to your people?”
Alexander sighed. “Plague… war.” He was, after all, accepted as an Alteran by the Asgard. It was only natural that he embraced their history as his own. Heck, he remembered
their history as his own He was not about to tell them about ascension yet, though – with their luck, it was likely that sooner or later the SGC would stumble upon that as well, and the Asgard had advised that the direct association with the Gate builders be avoided for the time being. “It is not impossible that I am the last of my people. After all, my own presence here is a result of an impossibly lucky accident.”
“I see.” Hammond said. “Why do wish contact with us, Mr. Moros?”
“I’ll be spending much of my time searching for traces of my people, general.” Alexander said. “While doing so, I will be obtaining data about every planet I visit. As you are one of the few civilizations willing to openly stand against the Goa'uld, I expect that information about civilizations, mineral deposits or Goa'uld presence on those world would be useful to you. There might be very little I can do about the Goa'uld, but I am willing to assist those who can. And on a more personal level, I wish to learn more about the First world.
Also, I am willing to place the scientific and technological means available to me at your disposal in the event that a problem created by the Goa'uld. That includes, but it is not limited to, a device that can separate a Goa’uld from its host,and the use of the spacecraft in my disposal for recovery of any personnel that gets stranded off – world.”
“Wouldn’t such an assistance be in violation of the treaty that was just made?” Daniel asked.
“I don't see how. My technology is very different than what the Asgard possess, and while I'm willing to accept the judgment of the Asgard High Council, I am in no way affiliated with them.” “Sheesh.”
Alex added to himself. “I'm sounding like the G – man. What's next, drinking tea?”
“I see.” The SGC commanding officer nodded thoughtfully. “I need to inform my superiors of this. It will be their choice.”
“I understand. However, I would like an answer before I leave. Would there be a problem if I stay here until the choice is made?”
“Unless you start them, I don't think so.”
Alex looked at Thor and nodded to him. A moment later, the Asgard vanished in a flash. Alex turned to the SF soldier in the room and pulled his hand weapon from his robes, handing it to the soldier while holding it with two fingers. “I think this will prevent some possible misunderstandings.”
While General Hammond was dealing with his superiors, SG-1, along with a single SF soldier, were keeping company to the human from a civilization apparently even the Asgard took seriously.
“Why?” Daniel was asking. “Why would you help us at all?”
“Danieeel.” jack grumbled.
“It's a valid question, Jack.” Daniel argued. “The other advanced civilizations we've met refuse to aid us directly with even the smallest of things.”
“That's normally the ideal choice.” Alex said. “A civilization, with its successes and failures, gains the wisdom to go forward. NO outside interference. Understand this. Right now, what's holding you back in your contacts with the advanced civilizations is not the level of your technology. It is not that
backwards Analysis indicate that if the conflict is confined to surface – based warfare, you would have advantage over the Goa'uld. The problem is your mentality. You are no a unified civilization. The Tollan, the Asgard, even the Nox might disagree with each other, sometimes heatedly, but they are all past the point an argument could result in taking up arms against each other. This is something your civilization cannot claim. So long as that continues to be the case, expect the really advanced civilizations to be very hesitant to have contact with you. The main reason I'm willing to aid you is the fact you are the most advanced civilization under the Protected Planets Treaty. That makes you the most likely target of a scheme aimed at your destruction after the Tollan, and the Goa'uld know you are snooping around the galaxy.”
“You think they might try and plant something.” Carter realized. “Makes sense. It isn't like they haven't tried before.”
“And there's also the fact that you are prone to, as I believe your saying goes, stick your noses.” Alex glanced at Jack. “Or in some cases, your entire heads where they do not belong.”
“Hey!” Jack exclaimed indignantly as his human teammates laughed at the barb. “It happened only once, and it was an accident
Alex chuckled. “If you say so, Colonel.” the quash – Alteran's grin vanished. “Jokes aside, that particular incident seriously piqued the interest of the Asgard. They believed the ability to survive the knowledge of a Repository, let alone tap into it in any meaningful way, to be at least a few millenia away for any human. You surprised them quite a bit, and that doesn't happen very often.” Alex was not about to tell the man exactly what Thor was planning about his name. He only hoped the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet used the name of his new flagship next time the grey alien confronted a System Lord. Any system Lord.
Right now, what he had to do was to wait for the politicians' choice.
Alex swore under his breath. Could these idiots do anything
After being officially granted access to Earth, (or rater, the SGC) he had beamed up to his ship, but had not immediately left as SGC probably believed. He had set up several recording devices in Sunnydale, which regularly transmitted the data to him via the cloaked satellite left behind by Thor to monitor the Sol for hyperspace windows – the Supreme Commander of the Asgard fleet trusted the Goa'uld about as far as he could throw the Jaffa member of SG-1, Teal'c
the picture the listened in conversations painted about the past year was not pretty, to say the least. Deadboy losing his soul while his old buddies Spike and Drusilla were in town had been messy, to say the least. Alex was saddened to hear that Miss Calendar had died, the Computer Science teacher had been the only one he actually liked.
As appalling as it was to learn the thing with with Evil Deadboy had dragged for months, the conclusion of the whole mess had been pretty much the worst possible short of having Earth destroyed. Alex had never liked Angel; the young man had always thought the vampire with soul's desire for redemption was a bit too much in the gutter, but to have the Soul thrown in Hell... Alex would not have wished that, even to Deadboy. And the fact Buffy had done it only made it worse.
But what was infuriating Alex currently were the the paper – pushing morons at the Watcher's Council HQ in London. Unlike the few Watchers Merlin had met a thousand years earlier, these Imbeciles apparently considered it their right to do with the lives of the Slayers as they pleased. If the Slayer Called with Buffy's temporary death in the Master's cave was any indication, those Potentials found by the Council were not allowed to have any real personality beyond the call of Destiny.
The indifference to a Slayer's life shown when the 'test' Buffy had been subjected to went out of hand had seriously tempted Alex, when he had learned about it, to go to Earth for the sole purpose of beaming Quentin Travers into the Sun. From the very limited research Merlin had done on the supernatural, Alex knew that Travers' 'time – honored tradition' was in reality something the Slayers were subjected to only when they grew too arrogant in their abilities, since in their line of work arrogance could result in catastrophe.
Right now, Alex was beginning to seriously regret not acting on that particular urge, as thanks to the blundering of the Watcher sent by Travers an unfortunate accident had turned into a major problem. He had no choice but to interfere, and soon, for it was unacceptable for the Gang's sole advantage to be canceled out when the ritual to transform the mayor into a giant demon came to pass. Author's notes: Just to clarify. I hate character bashing. What I wrote here about Angel is because of his actions before the breaking of his curse, At the time, it seems to me he only appeared to help when Buffy was in danger or called him. Add to that the fact that Xander never liked Angel, and the 'Alex' personality is meant to be merger of Moros and Xander.