If Cam doesn't ask it anything, after three and a half minutes, Assistant Stargate Commissioner Lyl Jupiter is now online. Her messages will be subject to approximately two seconds of lightspeed delay.
In a different text color: Hello, Cam. Sounds like you're not in danger or needing anything immediately. Is that the case?
Excellent! I think it's very surprising that you managed to repair a dead link, especially on a low-infrastructure world. The whole web had written G seven-two-one off as a dead end. Not nearly as habitable or resource-rich as it looked from a distance and probably everyone was going to die out, so no re-establishing mission was sent. The answering machine says you want plans and specs to repair the gate itself. Can I ask where you'll be getting the parts and material? Some of these things are very tricky to make.
Well, I have magic powers. I can make whatever you can specify for me.
Cam marks an outline of the hole blown in the side. These bits are just gone, he sends.
Alright, we'll get blueprints for that. My engineer has arrived. He says the only important parts are that you have the equipment in the entanglement room set up right, which diagnostics say they are, that the station has as little angular momentum as possible, and all 30 alignment coils in pristine condition and zipped up, powered and cooled. The exact details of the engineering behind it don't matter. Is a part number and installation guide for the coils good enough?
Cam goes and puts them where they go.
He'll have to clear away miscellaneous debris and damaged parts and other things. And either bring the other three reactors online or replace them with more of his thorium plants. This thing consumes one heck of a lot of juice in full-on gate mode.
Once that's done, time to fire it up. He can only do this from the control room as a security feature, unless he completely rips out and redesigns the computer systems.