A New Ship

The Theseus, colloquially called the X-302.5, a prototype ship made entirely with human technology, but inspired by what they'd been able to scavenge from other races. Carter read over the project proposal: she'd been in this same position a few months ago, serving as an adviser due to her practical experience with alien technology and her pre-existing expertise.

It was a test case. Plans had been drawn up for the X-303, a starship intended for long-term residence in space (there were still debates over its official title, from Prometheus to, if Jack got his way, the Enterprise). No one was going to fund such an ambitious project without some proof of concept first.

Which was where the 2.5 came in. It was little more than a hyperdrive strapped to a life support system. The X-302s, smaller ships, had hyperdrives but had very limited capabilities due to their small size. The X-303 should be much more effective, but only if they could prove that the theory worked, which meant showing off the possibilities of long-term residence in space, and a fully functional hyperdrive.

She'd given suggestions for the project, used some of her influence to secure permissions, and helped work on the capsule. Now she was overlooking the completed craft in a secret facility in the middle of nowhere.

It was an ugly thing, but then it was far from completed. It wasn't meant to look pretty, it was meant to keep a test subject alive. And speaking of test subject...

"You are about this?" Neykov, one of the chief scientists on the project, said. Sam nodded.

The person who went on the X-302.5's maiden voyage, a test flight to a nearby gated world to gate back, had to fulfil certain criteria. They had to be capable of spending a prolonged period of time in a stressful situation, they needed to understand the craft enough to fix things if anything went wrong, and they needed to be calm under pressure. The number of candidates with both the scientific knowhow and nerves of steel was small.

One such candidate was Samantha Carter. She took a deep breath, regarding the pod.

"Hasn't this all been approved already?" Carter said.

"Sighed, sealed and delivered," Neykov said. "Just wondering if you've any cold feet now you've seen the thing."

"I know how it was put together," Carter said. "That matters to me more."

She grimaced.

"Run me through it again," Carter said.

"Happily," Neykov said. "Step one, you get in. We run a final few diagnostics, then we kick you up into space. A modified 302 drops you off between us and the moon, one final check and scan, then you open the hyperspace window and fly through. In thirty eight hours' time, you arrive at TA6-942, an abandoned planet where you make a splash landing and return to the SGC via the local gate. Any questions?"

"No, all as I remember," Carter said.

"Right then," Neykov said. "So I guess..."

"Hold it!"

Allen approached them. he was another of the top scientists on the project, and every inch the cliche genius who'd yet to figure out how to actually talk to people. He looked Carter up and down, appraising her.

Carter suppressed a sigh. He'd always been exhausting to deal with.

"Any problems?" Carter said.

"When was your last meal?" Allen said.

Carter did groan at that, stomach rumbling at the memory. That was part of the mission. As a simple proof-of-concept, a lot of luxuries had to be left by the wayside. That included things like weight. Ships only had so much propulsion with which to travel, which meant the weight of the craft had to be carefully calculated and regulated. Too much, and it wouldn't be able to get as far as it needed to.

For a proof-of-concept, under-funded project, the restrictions were all the more strict.

"Breakfast yesterday," Carter said. "I listened to your advice."

"Hm," Allen said. "Weigh-in?"

"Of course," Carter said.

That was part of it. The 2.5's room had been built to certain specifications, the weight, the material, the contents... She was expected to keep fit by running, she had water and ration bars that should keep her alive, if not hugely comfortable, and enough tools to hopefully fix any errors or, failing that, record what went wrong.

She stepped onto the scales. Allen peered at the digital display at the numbers flickered by.

"We need it to be lower than 125 pounds," Allen said. He frowned. "Jacket off."

Carter nodded. She pulled off the green jacket, her usual military uniform. After a moment, she also took off her cap. Then she looked down.

The number was still a fair bit above the 125 pounds mark. She scowled. It should have been fine, she'd had a weigh in a while back.

"Put on a few pounds?" Allen said.

"Muscle maybe. A lot of missions between now and when this started," Carter said.

"Whatever. Need to lose a couple of layers."

Carter sighed. She'd signed up for this at any rate, there was no point delaying the mission just because her clothes added a few grams. Still, there was a slight flush in her cheeks as she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her top and, when that wasn't enough, slid her pants down. Carter was left in matching, plain black underwear, a sports bra and a pair of panties that tightly hugged her toned ass.

Nervously, she looked up. The Theseus was at the far side of the room, with several dozen staff working on it, distracted as the beautiful soldier stripped down. She awkwardly raised her arms, covering her chest a little bit more. She looked at the scales to see if it was enough.