Ice Henge Observation Post

Professor Friedrich Gottjäger

Friedrich steps into the tent and grabs a mug of something hot. "A bit nippy out there, 'ey?", he asks to no one in particular. "So what seems to be going on here? Someone said I should amble over this way when I finished re-acquainting my stomach with food." With that he finds an open chair and without ceremony flops down.

Sarah's shoulders slump and she let's out a sigh of frustration as Friedrich enters the tent. Some day, she thinks, I'll nail him down and make him answer that question.

"Well," the red-haired woman begins as she holds out a notepad with some drawings of five point stars, "we have ten gate addresses. Nine of which follow one pattern and one of which follows a different pattern," she says, indicating each of the sketches that go with each address. "Doctor von Braun," she says without a glance in his direction, "was impressed that he recognized the pretty star pattern."

"Ja," von Braun agrees grumpily, "Very pretty. You see, Friedrich, nine of these addresses scribe a pentacle with the star first and the surrounding pentagon second. The tenth address scribes the pentagon first and then the star. Meaningful? That is where you astound us with your brilliance." The german physicist offers a tight smile to go with his acerbic tone.

Addressing von Braun directly she adds, "There is something more to these addresses... Like why they loop back on themselves and why they increment or decrement from the north glyph... All while maintaining your pentacle." Frustration is evident in her voice, even as her tone is a touch concilliatory. There was an answer there that was eluding her. She hoped it was tied to von Braun's infernal pentacle scribing, that or she was going to need to start drinking heavily.

Professor Friedrich Gottjäger

Friedrich adjusts his glasses, and then says to von Braun, "Well Klaus, give me the diagram then, and let me have a look at it."

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Sarah wordlessly tosses her notebook down in the table in front of the gathered group, partially because she didn't have much she felt like saying at the moment, partially because she didn't want to bias the discussion, and partially because the grumpiness factor in the tent was apparently contagious. Instead she sits back and observes to two men, trying to figure out who might be the more disagreeable.

sketches

As the others stare at the sketches lying on the table, Sarah stands and begins pacing near the entrance of the tent, her arms folded in front of her. At this point she didn't have much more insight to offer, but it seemed liked they were getting too focussed on figuring out where to go that they wouldn't know what to do once they finally figured out which of the addresses to dial. Sure it was getting ahead of herself, but if they lost sight of the big picture, they would likely all freeze to death before getting out of here.

OK, she thinks to herself as she walks, not paying much attention to what is going on surrounding the table. We should hopefully have our favorite address confirmed here in a bit... But then what? Do we dial and have a 302 airborne for observation? Do we try and use the rings to send a MALP up there first to see if we can even get there via the rings? Do we leave the MALP up there when we activate? Do we send a team to search the area before we dial?

Slowly she begins to formulate a plan in her mind, nodding to herself as she paces and wondering if what she was thinking would actually work... And if anyone would listen to her thoughts and take her suggestions seriously.

"If zis vere a standard gate, ze zequences vould be stupid," von Braun opines. "Unt zerefore ve kan konklude zis is not a standard gate. Before ve dial, ve should rig up zome zensors to take energy readings. It kould be most informative."

"Make it so," Eileen says matter-of-factly following Doctor von Braun's last statement. "Make sure the sensors won't feed back into the energy from the 'Gate, too."

Professor Friedrich Gottjäger

Friedrich continues to ponder over the diagrams, his eyes flicking back and forth as he jots absently with a pen on whatever happens to come to hand first.

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dice