Ancient Transport Rings

   
Findy MacLean

"We could start tonight, lieutenant," her Scottish accent becomes even stronger on that word, inserting the UK's ubiquitous 'f' sound into the rank, "if that's what you'd prefer. We were just finishing up here, and I find myself without a task to occupy myself for the moment. Oh, I'm sure I can find something to putter about with, but it seems smarter to focus on necessary tasks. Now that survival's been taken care of, rescue seems to be the next priority, does it not?" she asks with an impish grin. "Much as I'd enjoy spending hours poring over the technology at the newly-dubbed Icehenge, from what I hear, it doesn't really hold the key for getting us rescued. That seems more likely to be the gate, so let's figure out how to get whoever's going over there." She clearly has the tendency to ramble on that many engineers do, although at least she isn't doing so about advanced mathematics or physics.

"That would be great. After all that time in recovery I feel like I need to make up for lost time," he says with a smile.

"I can meet you at the mess tent in about 30 minutes, if that is enough time? I think tonight will be more about talking and filling me in on what we have to work with. But who knows maybe we'll figure out a way to just transport ourselves to the rings by tomorrow," he says with a laugh.

"By your leave Major," he looks over and salutes, "I will see you tomorrow. Findy I'll see you in 30 then."

Major Thorsson

Eileen returns Lieutenant Kincaid's salute, smiling a little to herself at his enthuiasm, and formality. "At ease, Lieutenant, we don't stand on ceremony too much here. No need to salute unless General O'Neill gets beamed down."

She pauses a moment, almost as if waitng for exactly that to happen, before carrying on.

"If nobody else has any need for the brass on my shoulders, then I'll be getting back to the medical tent and some Meals Rejected by the Enemy."




 

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