//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Message in a Bottle // Story: Two Score, Minus Two or: A Stargate Tail // by Lithl //------------------------------// Stargate Command Control Room "Unscheduled offworld activation!" Harriman shouted into his microphone as klaxons began going off. He slapped his hand on the iris controls and the gate was quickly sealed behind the interlocking sheets of metal. "What have we got, Walter?" General Landry asked, as he walked up behind the Chief Master Sergeant. "We have a signal coming in now, sir." A moment later, the computer had identified the signal as Vala's GDO code. "It's Vala!" Sergeant Harriman looked up to the general standing next to him for orders, who sighed and nodded. The sergeant pressed his hand on the iris control again, opening up the gate for travelers. Hank leaned over the radio equipment and called the unsanctioned expedition, "Vala, I'm sure you can imagine my opinion of your actions over the past twenty-four hours." Vala's voice crackled over the control room speakers, "Don't worry, general! We brought you a present!" The general's eyes widened with surprise and he glanced to Walter before responding, "A present? Are you saying that you four captured Ka—" Before he could complete his thought, he was interrupted by shouting from the other end of the connection. A few confused and worried glances were shared between the people in the control room, before an unfamiliar female voice began shouting over the radio, begging them to open the iris, that Vala had either gone through or been thrown through the wormhole – the message was slightly unclear, as the speaker was hysterical. Long before anyone could properly digest the message or react to it, Vala came flying through the Stargate head-first, landing painfully at the base of the ramp. General Landry gave a silent prayer of thanks that he had already ordered the iris opened, or else Vala would be a fine mist of subatomic particles right now. "Medical team to the gate room!" Landry ordered over the base intercom. To the speakers in the gate room, he said, "Defense teams, stand by!" Just after he finished issuing the orders, another figure flew through the top of the gate, spinning end over end, out of control. One of Bra'tac's new wings caught on the barrel of one of the floor-mounted M2s and made a wet snap as the altered trajectory left her face-planting right next to its operator. Seeing one of the transformation victims in the gate room, General Landry quickly revised his earlier orders. He instructed the defense teams to stand back and report to quarantine, and the medical team to be wearing hazmat suits. Teal'c came next, as the defense teams were closing the blast doors leading out of the room. Her yellow form rolled to a stop halfway down the ramp to the gate, and some of her long pink hair became tangled in the ramp's grating. The atmosphere in the control room was tense. There was no word on what exactly was happening on the other side of the gate, and with Daniel on the other side, they couldn't simply close the iris. The team members that had returned, on top of being injured, were alone, since the general refused to risk spreading the infection any further than it already had been. It wasn't until the hazmat-suited medical team began filing into the gate room that Daniel stumbled through the wormhole. She tripped at the threshold, performed an unintentional somersault, and ended her entrance in a sitting position, legs splayed, just in front of Teal'c prone body. As soon as everyone had been accounted for, Harriman slammed the iris closed. A few seconds later, the wormhole disengaged. "Well," someone said from the back of the room, "I suppose that could have gone worse." Stargate Command Isolation Room 2 Eventually, the mess in the embarkation room had been sorted out, and Daniel and Teal'c had been returned to their respective isolation rooms. Mitchell had been transferred to her quarters, Bra'tac taking her place, since the actual isolation rooms offered better access to the medical care that she was in dire need of than any living quarters were. As the only member of the unsanctioned team still conscious, Daniel was the one to be debriefed first. She described in detail the majority of their trip to Kaggen's world, only leaving out Vala brushing her hair the night before. Daniel tried to describe the writing they had found on the walls of Kaggen's compound, but Vala and her conspirators had been responsible for packing the gear, and had neglected to include any kind of camera to record with. When Daniel finally revealed that Ba'al was in fact in the base looking for Kaggen, too, and described the System Lord's new appearance, the general stopped her. "You mean the Goa'uld's healing abilities doesn't make them immune to this affliction, either?" Doctor Lam, also observing the debrief, cut in, "No, that makes sense. The symbiotes can only drastically accelerate the body's natural healing and hyper-charge the body's immune response. They can't do anything completely outside the realm of their host's biology." "Do you suppose Ba'al's clones would be experiencing the transformations as well?" Hank asked his daughter. Lam nodded, "If this transformation is being caused by some trigger buried deep within human DNA, any of Ba'al's clones exposed to the same trigger would experience the same transformation. And it seems so far that everyone in the galaxy has been exposed to whatever the trigger is close enough to simultaneously." After a beat, she added, "It may have even been a clone that Daniel and the others encountered on Kaggen's world." "How could everypony in the galaxy be exposed simultaneously?" Daniel asked from the room below. Carolyn and Hank exchanged a look. "Did you say 'everybody in the galaxy,' Daniel?" Doctor Lam asked. Daniel nodded, "Yeah, everypony in the galaxy. Even the Dakara superweapon needed to activate all the Stargates in the Milky Way network at once in order t'get everywhere, and we needed Ba'al's help t'get that done." Some time ago, SG-1 had enlisted Ba'al's help to use an Ancient device on the Jaffa homeworld in order to simultaneously eliminate all of the robotic Replicators overrunning humans and Goa'uld alike. Ba'al used his skill with the Stargate network to open every gate simultaneously to allow the energy wave to emanate from Dakara to every world with a Stargate and destroy the Replicators before they had a chance to adapt or escape the wave's effective range. "I'll add a psych eval to the battery of tests my patients are getting," Doctor Lam whispered to General Landry. Landry bade Daniel to continue her account of the events on Kaggen's planet, including capturing Ba'al and her subsequent escape at the gate. "The way you describe Ba'al's hand-to-hand technique... it's almost as if he... she, whatever. It's almost as if she could see the attacks coming, or at least some of them. Whatever early-warning system she's using, it's hardly impenetrable, as Teal'c demonstrated when you captured her, but we may need more information about her new armament before facing her next time," the general mused, mostly to himself. "It couldn't be something on her," Daniel said, "we searched her pretty thoroughly. Ah suppose it could be some kind of implant, though." "Thank you, Doctor Jackson, we'll keep you apprised of the situation," Landry said as he stood to leave. "Wait! How is Vala? And Flut—Teal’c and Bra’tac? Doctor Lam, Vala said she interpreted something you said the other day as this transformation not being contagious. Was she right?" Carolyn nodded to General Landry, and he continued his way out of the room, while the doctor settled in to discuss the status of the others who tried to track down Kaggen. "Teal'c was knocked out, but she's a fighter; she really just needs rest at this point. She's got some heavy bruising and a few lacerations, but she'll heal. Knowing her, I've had her sedated for now," she began. "Vala has a severe concussion, and the shoulder injury from the staff blast you described, but beyond that she just has minor scrapes and bruises. Outside of a Goa'uld healing device, the only thing left we can do for her is to wait and see. And, of course, we don't have anyone available to use a healing device on her." "What about asking the Tok'ra for help?" Daniel asked. "We've been trying to get in contact with them since this fiasco began, but no luck yet. You know how they can be sometimes," Lam said. "In fact, considering Ba'al is being transformed, they may be trying to deal with this thing as much as we are." If one of the Tok'ra operatives were affected, they certainly wouldn't be able to go on any new assignments; they'd stick out like a sore thumb. And the Tok'ra already had dismal manpower to begin with. Doctor Lam sighed. "Bra'tac had it the worst," she said. "One wing has a compound fracture. They're far too small to fly with, obviously, but she'll be in extreme pain regardless. She's also got a few cracked ribs, a hairline skull fracture, and multiple other problems." Doctor Lam looked down to Daniel with sympathy, "Bra'tac is in surgery now. If she still had her symbiote, I'd give her excellent odds for survival. As it is... the surgeon and his assistants all have to be in hazmat suits, and Bra'tac is on Tretonin. This will be touch-and-go for a while, if she survives at all." "Well, there's a silver lining on every raincloud, Ah suppose," Daniel mused. "Oh? What's that?" "General Landry opened the iris in time to save Vala's life. Ah'll be content with that, for now. What about Vala catching whatever we've got?" Daniel reminded the doctor. "We've taken a number of tissue samples from her, and we'll be monitoring her status closely. If she shows no signs of transformation for long enough, I may lift some of my team's containment procedures, and General Landry might even end our isolation and quarantine." "That'd be nice," Daniel said, as Doctor Lam excused herself to make her evening rounds. Stargate Command, Colonel Carter's Lab Samantha Carter was pecking away at her laptop keyboard, gripping a pencil in each gnarled hand to hit the keys. Her fingers had begun merging together, and there was no way she would be able to type; not only was the manual dexterity of her hands completely shot, but each finger would most likely hit multiple keys at a time unless she was extremely careful. Her blue-feathered wings twitched in irritation at how slowly she was composing her email, but it was better than the utter frustration she would be suffering if she had tried to type the way she was used to, with human hands. She certainly couldn't do anything but acknowledge that her hands were not human, not any more. Based on the rest of her appearance, they'd likely be hooves by the morning. Despite assurances to the contrary, it seemed Doctor Sheffield's drug cocktail had done nothing to prevent the transformation. Eventually, however, even as painfully slow as it was to type, Sam finally sent the message. To: daniel.jackson@cmc.af.mil From: samantha.carter@cmc.af.mil Subject: Re: PHK-519-alpha message translation A comment Dr. Lam made about your debrief gave me an idea; what if the signal to start the transformation was coming from subspace? What if the radiation-message being emitted by PHK-519-alpha is only part of the puzzle, and somehow whoever made this thing created a subspace beacon out of felt? A subspace beacon would have a relatively limited range, but it would be able to reach all humans and human-descendants such as Jaffa nearly instantaneously. A powerful enough beacon could cover a significant fraction of the Milky Way. Sure, it's a bit out there, but we've seen stranger things, right? Well, maybe not. But still, since I'm at a dead-end I figured it was worth checking to see if there was a subspace signal being emitted, and I was right! The subspace signal itself doesn't mean anything to me, although it could be encrypted. However, I tried an algorithm to convert the radiation into a polarized EM wave, and converted the subspace signal into a polarized wave perpendicular to the wave generated by the radiation... the result looks promising, almost like a radio signal. Attached is an audio file generated by treating the combination as a radio broadcast. It's still not ideal, but any help would be appreciated. Recover quickly, please, Sam PS: I hate how hard it is to type with my hands transforming like this, and I seriously doubt I'm going to have fingers much longer. Except for the fact that I'm keeping my mind, I think this is worse than P3X-797's "Touched" disease. To: daniel.jackson@cmc.af.mil From: samantha.carter@cmc.af.mil Subject: Re: PHK-519-alpha message translation What the hell are you thinking, Daniel?! I know you won't see this message until you get back from Vala's stupid joyride, but dammit, I need you here! I need your help on this one! PS: If Dr. Lam is right about Kaggen's involvement, it would go a long way towards explaining why my mice are immune. To: daniel.jackson@cmc.af.mil From: samantha.carter@cmc.af.mil Subject: PHK-519-alpha message translation Daniel, The radiation being emitted by PHK-519-alpha contains a repeating structure, I suspect some kind of message. Unfortunately, there's not really enough data for me to decipher it, even assuming it's not in some code. I was hoping you'd be able to help. Relevant files attached. PS: None of my mice have transformed at all. Thanks, Sam In a surprisingly short amount of time, Sam heard a ping as her laptop received a new email, a reply from Daniel. To: samantha.carter@cmc.af.mil From: daniel.jackson@cmc.af.mil Cc: cameron.balinsky@cmc.af.mil Subject: Re: PHK-519-alpha message translation CC Cameron Belinsky Sorry about leaving you high and dry, Sam. Bhalla didn't really give me much choice. She's not either than a porta potty at a peanut festival sometimes. I'll see what I can do with the audio. Cameron, care to assist? Lamb says if Bhalla doesn't transform we may be out of isolation, to. PS you should try using a dictation program. It's not perfect, but I bet it's less aggravating than whatever you're doing now. Sam had to pause while reading to decipher some of the results of Daniel's speech-to-text program. "Not either than" was especially egregious, until she paired it with the rest of the sentence. Although she was alone in her lab, Sam still covered her snout with her soon-to-be hoof to muffle the snickering. Stargate Command Infirmary Vala and the defense team that had been present when her merry band returned were all stuck in quarantine while the doctors processed their tissue samples to see if the infection had spread. The marines, otherwise healthy, had been sent to their quarters. Vala, on the other hand, had needed medical assistance, and so an inflatable quarantine tent had been added to the infirmary. A heart monitor beeped steadily as Dr. Greene entered the tent in full gear to change Vala's saline IV drip. Conveniently, that was exactly the moment Vala chose to regain consciousness. With a groan, Vala tried to sit up, but Colleen was quick to push her back down. "Ah, ah, ah!" She cautioned. "You've got a nasty concussion. You're not getting out of bed today, and if Doctor Lam has anything to say about it, you're not going through the gate again for at least a week." After a pause, she added, "Although I suppose you can't leave quarantine until we clear you, anyway." "What... what happened?" Vala struggled to speak while Greene changed the IV bag. "Everyone got back home alive, if that's what you're asking," she said. "Beyond that, you'll have to ask Doctor Lam. She sat in on Daniel's debrief while I was stuck doing paperwork," the doctor grimaced at the memory. After that, Greene began asking Vala a series of questions, not about the unsanctioned mission – although elements of it did come up in Vala's answers – but rather she asked questions designed to gauge the extent of Vala's brain injury. When she was finished with her medical interrogation, Dr. Colleen Greene stepped out of the quarantine tent and very nearly collided with Dr. Lam. "How's our patient?" Lam asked as Dr. Greene struggled out of her hazmat suit. "Still suffering symptoms," Greene said. "She's mostly coherent, although she did get confused a few times while I was talking to her. No headaches or dizziness, at least not for the moment, and her vision's good. I added it all to her patient notes." "Sounds promising." "Well, at least she's got no option other than getting rest," Greene said as she put her hazmat suit on a hanger. "At least, until we get her DNA results back." "Don't be too certain," Lam smirked, "she already broke out of the base once. With force." Air Force Academy Hospital Cassandra Fraiser had been happily attending Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University Las Vegas when the whole shitshow began. When she began having personal issues a couple years ago, Sam had juggled her career to help, taking a post at Area 51 just 3 hours of desert road from Cassandra's dorm. Instead of going through the Stargate, Sam spent her time investigating alien artifacts that the SGC brought home. Eventually, though, Cassandra managed to get her life in order, and didn't need to lean on Sam for support. Then Mitchell had brought the original SG-1 back together, and Sam was finally able to return to Cheyenne Mountain. When the transformations began, Cassandra had initially thought that perhaps it was one last echo of the manipulations Nirrti had done to her body. Then Cassandra learned that it was affecting more people than just her, and the next obvious conclusion to her was still some kind of alien contagion. She dropped out of her classes for the remainder of the spring semester, and made her way back to Colorado Springs... only to discover that the SGC was on total lockdown. It took surprisingly few pulled strings to get herself into the USAFA Hospital's isolation wing. Of course, those same strings apparently quickly got word to the Pentagon, and she received a call from "Uncle Jack", checking up on her. By the evening of May 3rd, Cassandra's hair had gone two-tone light purple and pink with curls, with a tail to match. Her eyes had gone from a greenish-hazel to a much deeper, pale green. She had grown a white fur coat, a stubby horn in the center of her forehead. Her feet had become hooves, and her hands were well on their way to being the same. She even had a pair of images on her butt of a musical note inside a star inside a shield. Perhaps living up to her name, nobody at the hospital had believed her when she had suggested the end-stage of the transformation would be equine. When the doctors had finally admitted that her prediction was likely true, the ones that had remembered her had questioned her about how she had known what was going to happen. At the time, she had claimed that she had seen it in a dream – perhaps not helping her image as a Grecian Cassandra. It wasn't a complete lie; she had had several dreams of ponies like her. As time passed, however, Cassandra became slowly convinced that she was not dreaming fantasies constructed from a combination of imagination and terrible reality. Instead, she was dreaming of memories. "What are we gonna do?! There's no way we can beat him!" Scootaloo cried as the group of mares, each at the dawn of adulthood, took shelter in an empty house. "We need to get to Princess Twilight," I said. "If she doesn't know what Discord's doing yet, we need to tell her. And if she already knows, then there won't be anywhere safer than by a Princess." "Uh, Ah hate t'burst yer bubble, Sweetie," Apple Bloom looked uncomfortable, "but Applejack took Twi to Canterlot this morning." "Rainbow Dash is on tour with the Wonderbolts," Scootaloo frowned. "The Boutique is only a few blocks away!" I said. "We can get Rarity! She was so excited to hang out with me during my spring break, she made sure to be in Ponyville." The three mares poked their heads out of the house's front door, finding the streets of Ponyville deserted. "C'mon, let's go!" Scootaloo said as she burst onto the street and began galloping at her not-inconsiderable top speed. Apple Bloom and I were quick on her tail. By the time the Carousel Boutique was in view, my heart was pounding and my breathing was labored. As much as I enjoyed my time attending Hoofschule Fur Musik und Tanz in Germaney, I certainly wasn't getting the kind of regular workout as I did as a filly, running around every day and crusading with my two best friends. "Ack!" Scootaloo squeaked as she smacked face-first into a giant green jello salad that hadn't been there a second earlier. Apple Bloom and I managed to slow down and stop before hitting the ambush dessert. I was glad to be done with running, but the jello was a sure sign Discord was somewhere nearby. "Where is he?" I asked, looking around frantically. Scootaloo pulled herself out of the jello with a wet sucking noise, bits of bright green gelatin dripping from her head. "I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out!" She said, as she began running around the giant jello in order to continue to our original destination. With a crack, the patchwork demon appeared in front of us, blocking Scootaloo's forward progress once again. "Where do you think you're going, Chicken Little?" he asked her. "RUN!" I screamed to my friends. Apple Bloom leapt to the left and began galloping for her life. I did the same, in the opposite direction. I spared a thought for Scootaloo, already within arm's reach of Discord, and then I heard her scream. My guts twisted. I was too weak to even watch, much less do anything to try and help her. I tried to pour on the speed, with a stitch forming in my side. Then Scootaloo's scream was silenced. In the span of a breath, I heard Apple Bloom's scream begin. If I could just get to Rarity, everything could be fixed. It would all be okay. If I could just get the next thirty yards, I would be safe. Apple Bloom's scream was cut off. I noticed my hooves were no longer hitting the dirt. I was floating in the air, and Rarity's door wasn't getting any closer. Discord casually walked up to me, and I sagged in place. It was all over, the monster had won. "What, giving up? How positively boring," he complained. "Tell me, what do you think of my little 'and then there were none' performance? I mean, I admit it's not over yet, there's still one little pony left..." Discord hummed to himself and said, "You know, you're not that much younger now than your sister was when we first met. She turned me to stone. What can you do?" For a moment, I wished I was a magical prodigy like Princess Twilight had been. I wished I had been studying how to make walls of flame and telekinetic blades, instead of how to belt out arias and ballads. All I could do was flail my legs ineffectually. Discord simply laughed at my attempts. "It's good to see a bit of fight left in you. But you must understand, the sisters of Generosity and Honesty absolutely must go." "And Scootaloo?" I asked through clenched teeth, trying to hold my composure and not break down in tears. Discord shrugged. "Wrong place, wrong time." The door to the Boutique slowly opened – no squeaking, that would hardly do for Rarity – and revealed a Rarity with her eyes filled with rage. "Let. Her. GO!" Discord's eagle claw began to glow with a purple light. "If the screams of everypony else are anything to go by," he told me calmly, while facing Rarity who had begun charging her horn and rushing towards us, "this is going to hurt. A lot." Discord booped me on the nose with his glowing claw. The purple aura drained into my face, and my body filled with white-hot pain. Despite my attempt to bottle it up, a pained shriek escaped my throat as Discord began to chant. With Two Score! Minus Two! Ringed around a lake so blue! Your memories removed, your body confused! For your insolence you will pay, Cast to worlds far, far away! The snakes will rule over air and land, Until the stars reveal my plan! Forgetting everything and living lost, You're all fools, and I won't be— Rarity unleashed her attack, interrupting the chant. Aetherial gems cut through the air and began slashing at Discord's body repeatedly, forming an angry cloud around the beast. I felt my body finally hit the ground as Discord moved to defend himself from my sister's assault, and then the world went dark. There was no question in  Cassandra's mind any more. "Cassandra" was a fabrication, a human that should never have existed. The same was true of all of the other humans in the grip of the transformation "plague". Discord had stolen decades of her life, the lives of her friends, the lives of her family, and the lives of ponies across Equestria. There was only one organization on the planet that might believe that the ponies were a race of aliens, and that they were all in need of help. The doctors at the Air Force Academy Hospital would hardly allow her out of isolation, and the SGC was on lockdown. But Earth's defenses had never met a unicorn spell before, even one with a limited set of spells at her disposal. The USAFA Hospital had relatively few pony patients. One wing had been converted into isolation for the ponies, and the rooms were all single-occupancy. Outside of any medical emergencies, the doctors and nurses were done with Sweetie for the day, and she hardly planned to press the nurse call button while trying to escape. A quick cast of Mythal's Muffling on the walls of her room helped to ensure that none of the humans would hear her departure until it was too late. Although the windows didn't open, Redbelly's Resonance Recognition told her the tone that would shatter them. With a deep breath, Sweetie held a single note, pitch-perfect, for several seconds, until the window was no longer an obstacle to her escape. A little bit of telekinesis brushed the glass that had landed inside out of the way, so that she wouldn't hurt herself walking around. Some of the glass had fallen on the ground below, and there wasn't much she could do about that, unfortunately. Sweetie had been placed in a room on the second floor, and although it may have been cliché, she had a solution that didn't involve breaking any legs: an escape rope made from bedsheets. After tying the sheets together and adding a few knots to make her descent easier, Sweetie anchored the makeshift rope to the bed, shoved it to the window, and tossed the rope outside. Belatedly, she realized there might be a flaw in her plan: She wasn't actually certain whether there was a window on the first floor below her. She wasn't even sure whether she was above another patient room or not. She cursed herself for not doing more research before attempting her escape, but she had already committed to action. In order to mitigate the consequences of her mistake, Sweetie hung her drawstring bag with her belongings around her neck before scooting down her escape rope as fast as she could. Maybe if she went quickly, she could avoid getting spotted. The sun had already set, and all she could hope for at this point was luck. When she got to the end of her rope, she learned three things: one, that it wasn't quite long enough. There was still another six feet or so between her and the ground. Two, there was in fact a window below hers, and as she swung around on the end of her rope, she was in full view of the room on the other side. The third thing she learned was that the room below her's was a nurse's station, and it was occupied. The head nurse looked up when she saw Sweetie moving outside, and her mouth dropped into a small "O" of surprise. Sweetie gave her an awkward grin with a muzzle that hadn't quite finished its transformation and a small wave, before letting go of the rope and dropping to the ground hard on her tail. "Ouch," Sweetie grumbled to herself, before scrambling to her hooves. The nurse would surely raise some kind of alarm soon, so she had to make use of what head start was available to her. But how to get to the SGC? Highway 87 would be the easiest route, and it was almost a straight shot to Cheyenne Mountain, but it would also be the most open route, where she would be more likely to be discovered. Sweetie levitated her smartphone out of her bag, as well as the pencil she had been using as a stylus. She kept her eyes out for people wandering the hospital grounds, trying to stick to shadows where she could. As she ran, she opened her Maps application and considered her options. "Offroad will be harder, but it'll be worth it to keep a low profile," she muttered to herself. As she passed under another window, Sweetie heard someone inside saying something about "code green" and sharing her description. The pony hunt was afoot! While she prioritized getting off the hospital grounds, where the hospital staff and security would surely spend most of their initial search time, she brought up the contacts list on her phone, and called one particular number. Two rings, and the call was picked up. "Cassie, do you know what time it is over here?" "Hello to you, too, Uncle Jack!" Sweetie squeaked with a smile. As much as Discord had stolen her life in Equestria, she had managed to make a human life on Hanka, and when Nirrti had destroyed that, she rebuilt on Earth. "I should be asleep," Jack grumped into the phone. "Oh come on! It's only, what, ten o'clock in Virginia? You're not that old yet, are you?" "Some days it feels like I'm older than dirt!" Jack laughed. "What's up, kiddo?" "Oh, you know me, getting into trouble and taking advantage of nepotism in the military to get out of it," Sweetie said flippantly, and Jack laughed on the other end of the line. "You may be getting a call from USAFA soon, I figured I should talk to you before they do." "Please, tell me you didn't mastermind a breakout from the hospital," Jack sighed. "Okay. I did, though." "Cassie, we still don't know if this thing is contagious or not. We need you back in isolation," Jack scolded. "Tell you what: if you come and meet me at the SGC, I'll let you scold me all you like," Sweetie Belle said, before hanging up without waiting for a response. With a quick glance to her map to orient herself, she slipped past the boundaries of the hospital grounds, and pulled the battery from her phone, placing the parts back in her bag. Sweetie wasn't sure if General O'Neill would try to track her down before she reached Cheyenne Mountain, but it didn't seem to be worth the risk. Sweetie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With a sense of hope for herself and the rest of Discord's victims, she began an easy canter south.