Stargate Initiative is recruiting!

Remember the sound?

The chevrons locking one by one. The rumble of the ring as it turns. And that second of silence, right before the puddle bursts forward and settles into a blue mirror.

That sound is the signal that a team is heading out.

We've all dreamed of being in that room. Not in front of the screen. Inside it.

What we've built

Not so long ago, Stargate Initiative didn't exist. Not a line, not a page.

Today, all 353 episodes of the saga are broken down one by one. An encyclopedia fills up world after world. A radio station plays around the clock. A French web series premieres here exclusively. And soon, on Saturday nights, we'll all start the same episode together, each at home, as if we were sharing the same couch.

All of it was built by fans. Not a single ad has ever paid for any of it. And not one of us was a professional when we started.

Except that today, the Initiative is moving faster than we are.

So we're opening up the team. Seven chevrons, seven ways to be part of it.

Chevron one. Podcast and video.

The stories we tell, and what puts them on screen. One role for both.

We've been talking about the podcast for months. It's time. Two formats: on camera, or audio only. Pick the one you're comfortable with; neither is better than the other.

We're not looking for a radio voice. We're looking for someone motivated who knows the universe, as comfortable in front of a lens as behind a mic. Friendly, open-minded, with a real appetite for science fiction in general: the best conversations about Stargate almost always start somewhere else.

Debating an episode for an hour. Hosting a guest. Defending a theory nobody else at the table buys. If the idea already makes you smile, stop reading: this one's for you.

On the video side, we want editors, camera operators, and someone itching to do a live show. The material is there. So is the audience. We're not short on ideas. We're short on hands.

And nothing says you have to do it all. Some people talk, others edit, a few do both. Just tell us where you see yourself.

Chevron two. Writer.

Not just news. In-depth features. Episode analyses. Retrospectives. Top lists you'll find yourself defending in the comments for three days straight.

You write in your own voice, and nobody here intends to sand it down. The only rule is the Stargate Initiative code: how we address our readers, what we check before stating something as fact, what we never do. That guide is waiting for you the day you arrive. It fits on one page.

And if you have an idea for a format that doesn't exist anywhere yet, pitch it. More than one was born that way.

Never been published? Perfect. None of us had been either. Send us a piece of writing, and let us judge you on what you write, not on your background.

Chevron three. Community manager.

Let's be honest for two seconds: our social media deserves better than what we give it between two bug fixes.

This chevron is our voice out there. Posting, telling stories, firing back quick replies, going out to find curious people where they hang out instead of waiting for them to find us.

Free rein on the tone, as long as it stays ours. If you know how to bring a page to life, the keys are yours.

Chevron four. Live chat moderator.

Careful, this one isn't what you think.

We're not looking for anyone to clean up the comments. Here, a comment always serves a purpose. Even when it disagrees. Even when it stings. We have no wish to touch them.

This role is about live shows. Running the chat during a stream, answering on the fly, passing the good questions up to the hosts, keeping things readable when everyone is typing at once.

The difference from the previous chevron fits in one sentence: the community manager speaks, the live moderator holds the room.

If you love the energy of a live show, that's where you'll be irreplaceable.

Chevron five. Site moderator.

The chat is the house bar. People debate the best season of SG-1 at ungodly hours, welcome newcomers to the saga, and tell their day to strangers who quickly stop being strangers.

Honestly, this chevron is laid-back. No playing cop: welcoming people, calming things down when they heat up, flagging what really goes off the rails.

Probably the least flashy one on the list. But the one that makes people want to come back tomorrow.

Chevron six. Events and activities.

Synchronized watch parties. Live quizzes. Fan meetups. Conventions.

The liveliest of the bunch: the one where you hear people actually laughing.

Chevron seven. Merch, goodies and visuals.

Clothing, products, the ideas we haven't had yet. But also the logo, and the overall look of the Initiative.

If you have an eye for what a fan would really want to wear, or the hand to draw what all this should look like, we're listening.

The only technical requirement

For the podcast and video, you need a good internet connection and a decent microphone.

This has nothing to do with snobbery. We record remotely, and a crackling voice makes an episode unlistenable, even when the conversation is fascinating.

The camera is only for the video format. For audio, nobody is asked to show their face.

And no need for a studio. A decent headset is enough to start. The rest will follow on its own.

You won't be left on your own

It's the worry we hear most often: "I won't know how to do it."

So let's be clear. Every newcomer gets a guide, short and practical: writing for us, using the tools, what we expect from a headline, a photo, an article. And nothing goes out without a second pair of eyes on it. Everyone goes through that, including people who have been publishing here since day one.

In other words: you can't break anything, and you can't get stuck alone in front of a blank page either.

What we offer, no sugarcoating

Nobody gets paid. It's volunteer work, entirely. Access stays free, with no ads, and that won't change. No budget. A project.

So here's what we can actually put on the table.

Your name on what we build. A team that moves forward together. The freedom to pitch an idea on Monday and see it online by Friday, without going through twelve rounds of approval.

And depending on the occasion, invitations: events, sometimes conventions when they're Stargate-related. Nothing can be promised in advance; it all depends on what comes along. But when something comes up, it goes to the team.

The rest comes down to one word: recognition. Everyone's work is credited, and the time you give is appreciated.

We ask for consistency, not your whole life. Two hours a week sustained over time are worth a thousand times more than a big burst of enthusiasm that fizzles out after two weeks. We all have jobs, families, evenings when we don't feel like doing anything. That's perfectly fine.

Chevron eight

Seven chevrons are enough to dial the address of a world in our galaxy. The maneuver you've watched hundreds of times: seven symbols, and the gate opens.

But there is an eighth. That one doesn't lead anywhere in the Milky Way.

It opens onto an entirely different galaxy.

That eighth chevron is you.

Head to the Join the team page. Pick yours, answer a few questions, and that's it. No account to create, no résumé, no cover letter. And if none of the seven boxes fits you, there's an eighth, "something else," made exactly for that. Every bit of help counts.

We read everything. Really, one application after another. No automatic filter, no bot, no radio silence: you'll get a reply by email.

One last thing, for those still hesitating because they think they don't know enough, aren't professional enough, aren't legitimate enough.

That's word for word what we told ourselves before we started.

And the Initiative exists anyway.

The gate is open. The puddle is stable. All that's missing is you, on the other side.