Archive of Our Own ^beta

The summons comes out a few months after the suicide mission that all of them survive. The call doesn’t go out to all twelve of them, only the six who flew the mission and were Dagger Spare. Maverick, they learn shortly after receiving the summons to Colorado Springs, is invited too, but when Rooster asks him about it, all Maverick does is grin. 

Cheyenne Mountain’s an Air Force base, so none of them know what they’re doing there, though Bob hears through chatter that while it’s Air Force owned, they see the Army, Marines, and Navy come through all the time. Fanboy’s spitting theories faster than he can finish them, and it’s leaving them with more questions than answers by the time all six of them are led to a conference room on level 5. 

Maverick’s already there when they walk in, and a good ten minutes are lost to catching up with the captain, Rooster standing off to the side ‘cause he saw Mav the last time he was stateside. Payback’s busy telling a funny story from his and Fanboy’s deployment when a woman in Air Force blues walks in.

“Lieutenants,” she greets as they all fall silent. “Captain,” she nods at Maverick. “Please, take a seat. We have some things to discuss.” Everyone but Mav chooses a seat around the conference table, leaving the woman to set up her briefcase at the head. “I am Lieutenant Colonel Satterfield, for those of you wondering. Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain. I”m sure you’ve got a lot of questions.”

“Not really, ma’am,” Hangman drawls, ever-cocky, and Phoenix kicks him under the table. 

Luckily, Satterfield takes it in stride. “Of course. A mysterious summons for six distinguished Naval Aviators to an Air Force base best known for its deep space telemetry work is easily explained. Tell me, Lt. Seresin, would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

Hangman’s smile doesn’t move, but the rest of them are busy hiding amused smiles and, in Fanboy’s case, attempting not to laugh out loud. “Yes, ma’am, we’ve got a lot of questions.”

Satterfield nods. “Thank you. Now, I’ve asked Captain Mitchell to join me so that you all understand that what I’m about to tell you isn’t some sort of elaborate prank. However, before we get started, I’m going to need all of you to sign these NDAs.” She pulls out a file folder for each of them as well as pens and slides them along the table to each of them. “This way, even if you should choose to decline our offer, you will have agreed not to discuss this particular project with anyone not at this table or not already in the know.” 

They’re all silent for a few minutes, scribbling their signatures on the required lines. Phoenix mouths the word Stargate as she glances over the paperwork, and her eyes flick up to Mav, who still looks endlessly amused. Eventually, they all get the NDAs signed and passed back to Satterfield. “Thank you, Lieutenants. Now, you need to understand that what I’m about to tell you is one of the country’s and the world’s best kept secrets.” She turns around to the TV behind her and picks up a remote from the table under it, nodding at Mav before clicking at the TV. Mav leans over from his spot next to the TV to flick off the lights, and all of them find themselves immersed in darkness until Satterfield clicks a button.

“In Giza 1928, the professor Paul Langford and his expedition, accompanied by his young daughter Catherine Langford, discovered a large artifact buried in the sands. After some time, they were able to fully excavate the artifact and translate the writings on artifacts found with it, though they were unable to explain the symbols on the artifact itself.” Satterfield flips through a handful of photos while she speaks, all of them grainy and obviously scans of older images: nameless locals hired for the expedition, a still of a man and a young girl, a blurry image that’s presumably the artifact being raised out of the sand. The last image is of the artifact from the same time period, a large stone ring standing upright, the sun either rising or setting being framed by the ring. 

“The expedition was able to determine that the ancient Egyptians had considered the ring some sort of Doorway to Heaven. The ring was largely considered a decorative object until World War II, when the ring was brought up as a possible weapon.” Another click of the remote brings up silent footage of the ring, glowing with something almost like rippling water inside. Scientists dress a man up in an old style diving suit, connected to a cord. The man walks through the ring, and the water suddenly disappears, the cord cut where the ring began. All of them are trained to expect the unusual, but there’s more than a few gasps around the table at that. 

“The ring was put into storage until Catherine Langford, continuing her father’s research from fifty years before, put together a team to research Project Giza to study the ring and determine its purpose. In 1996, she hired an archeologist and linguist with a bizarre theory that the Egyptian pyramids were built as landing pads for ancient alien spacecraft.” More images, early to mid 90’s based on the fashion. Mav snorts when Satterfield describes the person Catherine hires, though he holds up his hands when Satterfield shoots him a look. Rooster thinks he sees Satterfield blush, but it’s dark enough that it’s almost impossible to tell.

“The archeologist was able to solve the decades-old mystery of the symbols on the ring itself and determined them to be constellations. The ring he was able to confirm as a Doorway to Heaven, though it more loosely translated to Stargate.” More images, scans of notes and an old newspaper featuring constellations. An awkward scan of the back of a book cover with a floppy haired man with round wireframe glasses. 

“With the archeologist’s help, Doctor Langford and the Air Force were able to determine how to make the ring work, this time without the guessing that the scientists had done in 1945. The Air Force put together a team to go through the ring, including the archeologist, to see what was on the other side.”

“Through that?” Fanboy asks when the image changes to show the ring in what looked like a giant missile testing room, the photograph taken from further back, the tops of a couple of monitors and little lights just barely visible at the bottom. 

Satterfield nods, clicking the remote. “The team went through and discovered an alien planet on the other side of the ring, a desert planet with inhabitants that resembled what archeologists believe Ancient Egypt to have been like.” 90’s quality photos scanned digitally show up next, a blue sky with two moons, a large structure with nothing on the walls, torchlit photos of ancient Egyptian drawings.

“Holy shit,” Hangman mutters. Mav bites back on a cackle when he sees the looks on the aviators’ faces. 

“After the initial mission, the ring was put in storage for a year, up until a hostile alien force came through and killed three officers, kidnapping the fourth.” Photos of the aftermath, scorch marks along the walls, an overturned card table, poker chips scattered everywhere. A dead man in some sort of metallic silver clothing. Low-quality security footage from 1997 of a group clearly coming through the ring and attacking three of the four officers, taking the only woman of the group back through the ring with them.

“A rescue mission was launched to find out where the hostiles came from and to rescue the officer. Since then,” Satterfield continues, turning away from the screen to look at the six of them, “the Stargate has been used to connect with alient cultures and share our culture and technology with them. It has been useful in more than a few advancements in technology and medicine, however it has gained us our share of enemies along the way. We have gained allies who have helped us save Earth more times that any of you know.”

Satterfield turns off the TV and Mav flips on the lights, making the shock and awe on the Daggers’ faces obvious. “Where do we come in?” Rooster asks. He’s got a feeling he knows, especially from the look on Mav’s face, but he’d like to hear it.

Satterfield smiles at them for the first time. “I’m here to officially offer you the chance to join the Stargate program and take part in some of these missions to alien planets.” 

“Holy shit,” Fanboy breathes.

Rooster turns to Mav. “So that’s where you would go when you couldn’t tell Ice of all people where you were being deployed to.”

Mav shrugs. “Captain Mitchell’s been with the program almost since the beginning,” Satterfield says. “Certainly longer than me - rumor is that when they were originally putting together teams, they offered him a permanent position, but he turned it down.” 

1997. Bradley has a horrible feeling he knows exactly why Mav turned down a permanent position on a team to visit alien planets and explore the galaxy. 

“Do we have to decide right now?” Phoenix asks.

Satterfield shakes her head. “You have the week, though you’re free to make your decision at anytime within that period. I suggest you take the time, however, to consider everything. I know it can be a lot to take in.” She puts the remote back on the table under the TV and locks up her briefcase. “I’ll email you all my information and a meeting time at the end of the week.” Satterfield nods at Mav again, and then she’s gone, out of the room like she didn’t just blow their minds. 

“What the fuck just happened,” Payback whispers.

“Aliens are real?” Bob asks.

“Aliens are real,” Fanboy breathes.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix says.

“Holy shit,” Rooster and Hangman agree.

Mav steps up and slaps his hands onto the back of the chair that Lieutenant Colonel Satterfield hadn’t sat in. “So, any questions?” Six hands fly in the air, and Mav shakes his head with a grin. He loves being the one to give the talk after the talk. 

(By the end of the week, Stargate Command has six naval aviators at their disposal, ready to begin training and learn about alien cultures. They’ve got over twenty years worth of information to catch up on.)