At the same time as the events at Stargate Command unfolded, another unfolded at a Carmelite monastery in Chahinkapa, North Dakota, some 200 miles northwest of Minneapolis. It was a plain and simple monastery that sat near the banks of the Wild Rice River containing a handful of sisters. It was a small community, but one full of love, work, and prayer. The monastery was a place of serenity and solitude, a refuge from the turbulence of the world.
As the nuns slept peacefully in their cells, one nun was restless in her bed. Her name was Sister Helena of the Cross. She was a stoic and stout woman of forty-two years of age. She had a trim and athletic figure with blonde hair and hazel eyes. She had been a nun for ten years now and had been in the Air Force prior to coming into Carmel, after spending time in prison. She did her duties with an almost military precision; a precision that the nuns had never seen aside from one other sister: Sister Marie Evangeline.
As Sister Helena slept, she had a vivid dream as if she was actually a part of it. She found herself in a medieval village made of dark gray stones. The villagers gathered in the center of the village next to a stone pillar that looked like a lectern. Behind the village was a large building with a cross on top. The villagers looked downcast and like they hadn't eaten in quite some time. Though she didn't recognize the villagers, Sister Helena felt drawn to them as if she knew them. The villagers were calling out to her; their voices of course of desperation and hope. They were chanting a hymn of some sort, the words she didn't recognize. From among the villagers a young girl stood in front of them. She reached out to Sister Helena, tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes pleading.
“Help us,” the girl whispered. “We need you to nourish us.” Then Sister Helena’s gaze turned toward the pedestal. The front of the pedestal was intricately carved. In the upper part was a cross in the center with a serpent or a man (she couldn't really tell). Flanking the cross were two palm branches, then two columns with palm branches on the tops (like those described in the Jewish temple in Jerusalem), and then four flowers, two on each side. On the lower part in the center was a hideous figure, like a devil, sitting on a throne. To its left were humans cowering in fear and demons subjugating them, and to its right were humans being devoured by the demons. Around and through the carving was inscribed in pre-Chaucer Middle English: “MYN JESUS BE YE SERVES THOU SUFFERED/IN THY PASSION IN YE GARDYN IN THY SCORGEING/ AND THY CORUNING WITH THORNS/IN THY LANGYRYIN ON YE CROSS AND THY DEETHE/SHAW MERCY TO THOSE WHO ARN ABOUTE TO BE DELIVERED UNTO YE DEVEIL.”
The vision ended and Sister Helena awoke with a start. Sweat poured down her face, her heart pounded, and she was breathing heavily as if she was on the battlefield once again. She reached for a small stone that she had placed on the night on her nightstand. It was a black obsidian-like stone with intricate carving on one side. She found it in the garden several weeks ago and she used it as a prayer aid.
“Breathe, Helena. Breathe,” she told herself. She took a few deep breaths. Her heart rate subsided to normal, but the memories of her dream continued to haunt her. Who were these people and why did she know who they were? Most importantly, what did they want with her? The vision continued to haunt her. Sister Helena found the need to pray about the visions.
Sister Helena got dressed in her habit. First, she put on her brown tunic, next her belt and her rosary, she then attached her profession crucifix to its spot on her tunic on the left right side of her chest. She then put on her white wimple over her head, tying and buttoning it up in the back. After kissing her brown scapular, she put it over her tunic. Finally, she put on her black veil over her head and her sandals on her feet. She placed a note on the door of her cell to inform the summoning sister that she was awake and praying in the chapel, grabbed her bravery and the stone. Careful not to wake her fellow sisters, she treaded lightly to the chapel.
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Entering the Chapel, Sister Helena dipped her fingers into the holy water font and made the sign of the cross with the water. After setting her prayer materials in her choir stall, Sister Helena brought up some of the lights to dimly light the chapel, grabbed a lighter to light some candles on the altar, genuflecting as she passed the tabernacle. Once the candles were lit, Sister Helena returned to her stall and knelt. After making an act of adoration, she opened her bravery to Psalm 91 and prayed. She often found comfort and solace in that psalm. However, her mind kept returning to her dream and that and the things that she saw. She felt a need to help the people, yet she did not know who they were or where they were from. Why were they dressed like they had come from a Renaissance fair? Sister Helena raised her hands and prayed.
“Lord, what are you trying to tell me by showing me these people? Who are they and why do they seek my help?” She reached down and took the stone and clutched it in their hand she closed her eyes and folded her hands, the stone resting in between them.
As Sister Helena was deep in prayer, the door to the Chapel creaked open and a middle-aged woman entered the Chapel. After dipping in the holy water font and genuflecting, she took her to her stall, which was right next to Sister Helena's. She noticed the uneasiness on Sister Helena's face. She placed a comforting hand on Sister Helena's shoulder.
“Helena, are you all right?” The elderly nun asked, her soft voice filled with concern. Sister Helena, with a startle, turned around to see who it was. It was Sister Marie Evangeline of the Eucharist. A former officer in the Air Force before entering the Order, she had been Sister Helena's “Angel”, her guide through formation and the monastery in the in her early days there. They had become very close, due to their shared past in the Air Force. Sister Helena looked up at her dearest friend, their eyes meeting.
“Oh! Sister Marie Evangeline, you startled me. I was deep in prayer,” Sister Helena said.
“That's all right. I noticed you had a worried look on your face. What's the matter?”
“Oh, Evangeline,” Sister Helena confessed. “I... I had a weird and disturbing dream. People were calling out to me, asking me for help. I didn't know who they were, yet I felt instinctively drawn to them. It was so vivid, like I was there with them. I don't understand it.”
“My child, dreams are a mysterious thing period perhaps God is calling to you, to tell you something. Maybe it is to pray for them or perhaps there is a higher calling for you; your true purpose.”
Helena nodded reflecting on her past, which was very sullen. While she had been a skilled pilot and a valued leader in the Air Force, she had also been an agent of the Rogue NID, a shadowy and clandestine organization that stole technology from other civilizations from around the galaxy, no matter what the cost or consequences. Her life had been one of cloak and dagger and blurred lines of morality—until the day she was captured by SG-1. After serving time in prison she found, she found refuge in the monastery, offering her life in reparation for her past sins.
“I wish I could tell you everything Evangeline,” Sister Helena said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But there are things I cannot speak of; things that are classified.”
Sister Mary Evangeline took Sister Helena’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Being formerly in the military, she knew what Helena was going through. “I totally understand, child. There are things you cannot tell me. But Our Lord has the highest security clearance, higher than the highest levels of the chain of command. Speak to Him in your heart. If it is a call to action, He will guide you.”
“Thank you for your words of encouragement and comfort, my dear friend,” said Sister Helena “I will certainly prey on it some more and give it some time.”
“Always in any time,” Sister Marie Evangeline replied. “I will always be your angel.” with a sisterly hug, the two opened their braveries and chanted in psalms in the darkness of the chapel; the monastery being all now still.
