It's not that Fancy
Posted on Fri Jun 3rd, 2022 @ 12:06am by Major Alexander Preston
Mission:
Jumping Right In
Location: CFB Boer | USAF Johannesburg | SGC
1124 words - 2.2 OF Standard Post Measure
CFB Boer was a bit of a silent joke between those who knew. The Canadian regiments that had taken part in the Boer wars, over a hundred years ago, had been the original to make up the base when it was deployed, and someone had gotten a little cheeky with the naming. It had stuck, and through some series of events, ended up as the actual name of the base. There were rumours that Prime Minister Trudeau had blown a gasket at the name, and run a series of campaigns to change it, but as was it was want to do, the Canadian Armed Forces had politely ignored the Office of the Prime Minister. So as the CH-146 sat in the hot summer sun, in what should be the cold as far as the canuck making his way across the tarmac was concerned, he prepped to dust off and head towards the nearby United States Airforce Base located at Johannesburg. It was a short flight, barely thirty minutes, but the JTF-2 member was eager to get underway. The mission prep had been long, detailed, and full of science fiction bulshit that would have made Isaac Asimov cry. A giant metal ring that created a stable wormhole between two places in space and time, and allowed near-instantaneous travel across lightyears - who would believe that?
Still, the offer of the posting was something special, and something Alexander had been honoured to take. Sliding up to the Griffon, he pushed his jump back across the deck, lifted the rifle bag containing the C8A3 and C20 onto the crew deck next and finally pulled himself up into the cabin. The pilots nodded back at him, and he returned the gesture. Major Preston was no stranger to the Griffon, he'd done a hundred drops out of them, logging almost as much time in them as some of the pilots. Between that, and the CC-130's that he'd flung himself from with the PPCLI, he had become accustomed to the sitting in the rear, and yet it never really got any easier, a part of him missed the front seat. Pulling his tan beret off and stuffing it unceremoniously into one of his pockets, he pulled the helmet over his ears and waited for the internal comms to come online. There was a click, followed by "You good Major?" He checked the P226, and flashed a thumbs up to the pilot looking back at him, before sliding the aviators onto his face. A couple of minutes later they were in the air.
The Military Section of the Johannesburg airport stood out like a sore thumb from the other section, what with its tall barbed wire fence and the swarm of alien technology-enhanced fighter jets milling about. The skids barely touched the ground before he was out the side door, his bags slung and his beret squished back on top of his head. He'd only made it a short distance before a fellow CADPAT adorned member slid up next to him, exchanging a quick salute. "Major," the Corporal said, looking up at Alexander.
"Corporal," he replied with a polite nod back to her and catching the name tape of Kroell. "Quite the hive of activity," he added conversationally. She nodded to him and gestured about to the various small gatherings and other helos touching down as they went.
"Plenty of nations delivering their teams to the base I hear. A lot of them are excited to get their first deployments and get ready to go. I think personally it's going to be a clusterfuck, but that's just how things go when you get the United Earth involved." She paused, looked up at him, and added, "Sir," to the end of it. This drew a laugh from the Major, who nodded in agreement.
"No, I think it's going to be a long series of dick-measuring competitions until we get used to each other. I supposed that's the benefit of metric though, our numbers are going to sound bigger on paper," which resulted in the pair sharing a laugh. The pair paused and stood just a ways off, where in the distance you could see a Hercules being loaded with cargo and people. A small hive of activity in of itself, it was one of three such aircraft that was loitered about getting ready for its departure.
After a bit, Kroell broke the silence with "Kind of amazing sir."
"A C-130?"
"No," she scoffed, "the idea of the Stargate. I'll be coming over once the Canadian units are all on base, run part of a logistics team, but it's just kind of amazing. A whole galaxy out there."
"That wants us dead," he added.
"Sure, but it's hard to imagine what we will find, who we will meet. I know a lot of people feel its bleak after the attack, but I think its a whole new era for us, and I can't help but think it's only going to lead to something amazing. Sorry sir, getting emotional. Let me make sure your kit is delivered, you're on Transport One." He nodded and handed off his rifle and duffle bag, making sure to hold onto the one with the jacket in it. "Unless there is anything else sir?" With a shake of his head, she took a step back, saluted, and made for the personal goods transport section. A few minutes later he was up the rear ramp and into a seat, and not an hour later, back in the air.
It was about three hours in the sardine can of an airplane over to Antarctica, but it felt like barely any time at all. By the light of a headlamp, Preston read over the briefing package once more, exchanging the odd small talk with a nearby Marine that was being stationed there as well. The pair had gone back and forth a few times jokingly, the Marine checking to see if he had ordered his orthopedic office chair, and Alexander learning the purple crayons were the Marine's favourite. But now the windows had frosted over, and the telltale sign of the Hercules' powerful turboprop engines were slowing down as the came in for a landing let him know they were headed for the final approach of the base. A nervous energy filled the passenger bay, and looks were exchanged. Pulling on the thick arctic survival coat, the Major straightened his beret, and stood while holding to keep himself stable as the plane came to a landing and slowed down. A few minutes later the ramp dropped down, and the twenty or so people inside began to file out, getting their first look at the base itself.
Stargate Command.
