The Undiscovered Galaxy (SG:A Crossover)
Posted: 2005-06-18 06:22pm
The Undiscovered Galaxy
Chapter 1 – The Siege.
“Self-destruct is armed. Prepare to load the virus into the Ancient mainframe. Rodney, dial the alpha site.”
The words came from a woman with short black hair, dressed in a quasi-military uniform. On her left shoulder was an emblem, one which could easily be recognised by the people of her homeworld, fifty white stars on a blue background, and thirteen white and red stripes covering three quarters of the rectangular shape. But in this time and place, it meant nothing, the many, fractured nations of Earth were far away, and those that had come to this distant world had their own sense of community, they had been forced to have one. As such, the emblem on her right arm was far more significant. The word “Atlantis” dominated the top of the symbol – it was the name of the place, the lost city of the Ancients, which now seemed doomed.
“Dialling,” replied the man, Rodney McKay, sitting at a console as he began to press a sequence of large buttons.
Below that, there was a seemingly abstract symbol of a blunted wedge in a wide locking panel, lines upon it. That symbol was a depiction, of one of the locks on the large wheel like shape that dominated the room below them. On the inner surface of that torus, glowing blue symbols, points of light representing star patterns visible high above their heads, interrupted, if one knew where to look, by similar points of light that seemed far more menacing. For those lights were reflections from the hulls of the mighty star-vessels of the Wraith, the ancient enemy who had originally defeated the ancient builders of Atlantis, and who had returned now, to claim it for themselves.
On the wheel, one of the objects that the expedition’s symbol was pattered after came to life. Glowing a bright blue, it made a snap sound as it encoded one of the symbols from the torus into the device’s memory. For the device had a use for those symbols - they represented points in space, and when correctly entered, they would allow the star-gate to plot a course to another world, hundreds, or even thousands of light years away. With enough power, even millions of light years were a triviality to the stargate.
But they were not a triviality to the expedition. Earth was millions of light years away, and without the power of the Ancients at their disposal, unreachable. The second symbol wheeled around the gate, panel after panel showing it until it reached the second of the locks. Once more, the gate emitted a distinctive snap sound, and part of the inner ring glowed, as did the lock.
Then the lights were extinguished. As though power had suddenly been cut - new lights glowed, the locks snapping on one after another as the gate began to activate. Not from the terminal manned by Rodney McKay, the Canadian scientist held by many to be a genuine, if annoying, genius. “We’ve got an incoming wormhole,” he said. The gate cycled through its routine, more of the locks coming to life every second, until at last, the inside of the ring flashed with an uncanny white-blue water, blasting out, rushing forth as if to gush outward and flood the room, before it was abruptly snapped back into a clear rippling surface.
McKay pressed a button, and another field came into being, micrometers from the event horizon of the wormhole that had formed in the ring. The shield flickered into solidity, a physical barrier that would prevent the proper re-forming of any matter or high levels of energy that attempted to pass through, sending them back, scattering them through the hundreds of light years long tunnel between stargates. However, it was permeable enough to permit low energy radio signals through, and such a signal soon passed through it.
A computer by the dialling console flashed an alert, and McKay glanced at it. “Receiving IDC” he said.
A second man, no match for McKay in the realm of gate operation, leaned forward imperceptibly. “Who is it?” asked Major John Sheppard, the senior military officer of the Atlantis expedition. McKay punched a button on the anachronistic earth computer, and practically gaped in astonishment. “Stargate Command-” he said. The wormhole had come millions of light years, all the way from an installation buried deep under a mountain in Colarado.
“Are you sure?” asked the woman.
“Positive,” McKay replied.
“Lower the shield,” she ordered. Elizabeth Weir, commander of the expedition, began a straight dash down from the overhanging control centre into the gate room, where the few remaining military personnel kept their weapons trained squarely on the stargate’s centre as the shield over the rippling ‘water’ flashed off.
Soldiers began to pass through the gate, holding submachine guns at the ready. They looked around, from one side to the other, and then above, finally relaxing. The defending soldiers mirrored the relaxation, it wasn’t a wraith trick, or if it was, it was an absurdly effective one. The highest ranked soldier stepped forward toward Weir, Sheppard and McKay. Behind him, crates, loaded onto wheeled transporters began coming through the gate, driven by more military personnel.
“Doctor Weir,” he said. It wasn’t truly a question, the soldier had read her file, and prided himself on never forgetting a face.
“Yes,” she replied, stepping up to him as he came to a stop.
He introduced himself, extending a hand, “Colonel Dillon Everett, United States Marine Corps,” he said, shaking her hand. His brisk, upbeat manner was an abrupt change from the subdued feelings of the Atlantis expedition.
“You should know that we-” she started, but Everett just talked over her. Apparently quite oblivious to the fact that he was not exactly making the best impression.
“General O’Neill sends his compliments on a job well done under extraordinary circumstances,” he shot her a quick, snappy salute, “You are relieved.”
A number of thoughts ran through Elizabeth’s mind at that moment. Most of them involved choking General O’Neill, or at least the man in front of her. Relieved indeed. She’d been replaced with a military officer? Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Swallowing some of her annoyance, she replied, “Sir,” – though she meant it in far more the way a police officer would call a member of the public sir than in any kind of respectful manner – “We’re about to evacuate.”
Everett seemed disdainful, “Without a fight,” he said.
Major Sheppard hesitated a little, confused by the man’s attitude. This wasn’t Earth, and they neither outnumbered nor outgunned the enemy. “Yes, Sir,” he said.
“On my order,” Weir added quickly, trying to clear up any blame that might have been directed at Major Sheppard.
Everett stood a little straighter, and began issuing orders. “That evacuation order is rescinded. I assume you’ve armed the self destruct device?” It wasn’t a hard guess. The loud warning noises every few seconds were hard to miss.
John tried to exercise patience, “Yes, we have, but as Doctor Weir was trying to tell you-”
Everett again walked over the concept of conversation. Weir was beginning to find this annoying. “I am going to need you to disarm it immediately,” he said, practically oozing smugness.
“Hold on a second,” Weir snapped, “Colonel. I don't think you fully grasp our situation here.”
At last the source of his smugness became apparent, “You have three wraith hive ships bearing down on your position and precious little to defend yourselves with.” He grinned, “That about sum it up?”
McKay smiled slightly, proud that at least his recent scheme to send data through the gate had worked, “You got our message.”
Everett nodded, “We got your message,” he confirmed.
At that moment, a small chime sounded from one of the ancient terminals, ignored by everyone as they continued to talk.
None too far away, in the galactic scale, in a control room not unlike the one on Atlantis, but considerably smaller, a man was attempting to pull himself off the floor. He kept a firm hold of the armrest of his padded chair, and pulled himself upright. “Damage report!” he shouted, rather alarmed at the loose live wire swinging nearby.
“All decks report minor damage, shields offline, main energisers at five percent,” came a reply from a man in a slightly ripped uniform, bright red.
Another man from behind and to the right of the chair turned. “The aperture that pulled us through is closing. It has now shrunk to eighty percent its previous size. If we remain where we are, we risk being cut in half by the sheer forces as it closes.”
The captain of the ship didn’t need to be told twice, and half way through the last sentence, ordered the sublight drives to full power.
The ship shuddered forward, and the captain eased himself back into his chair. The science officer who had given the report turned, “We now appear to be clear of the phenomenon Captain,” he said.
“What is that thing?” the captain demanded.
“I am uncertain,” replied the science officer, “It has some of the characteristics of a wormhole, but far more linear in its internal structure.”
“Speculation?”
“I would say, Captain, that it is some form of passageway through space. Now checking our location.” He punched a few buttons, “I am unable to calculate our location.”
The captain nodded reluctantly. “First things first, close range sensor sweep.” If there was no immediate way to get home he didn’t want to be caught unawares by anything local, “Report anything out of the ordinary.”
“There are several ships at the Lagrange Four point of the second planet captain,” replied the science officer. “A debris field indicates recent destruction of one – metallurgical analysis suggests two of different materials – vessels in the vicinity. Infrared scanners suggest high powered weapons or engine overloads captain.”
“I see… Anything else in system?”
The science officer turned several knobs on a console. “There appears to be some form of landed ship or city on the second planet. It is made of sophisticated materials I cannot quite identify. They match those of the second debris field, but not the ships.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that the two groups are hostile,” the captain said.
“That is logical captain…”
“We’re getting a signal,” McKay said, surprise furrowing his brows.
“The Wraith?” asked Everett, standing nearby.
Sheppard glanced at him, “probably not…”
“Put it up,” said Weir, leaning on an ancient designed console.
McKay nodded as Everett fixed Weir with a stern glare the pen the scientist had been biting fell into his lap as the ancient’s systems display screen changed to show the new vessel’s bridge.
“This is Captain James T Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise…” came over the speakers.
All four stared in mixtures of shock, surprise, and of course, disbelief, “You’ve got to be kidding…” McKay said…
Chapter 1 – The Siege.
“Self-destruct is armed. Prepare to load the virus into the Ancient mainframe. Rodney, dial the alpha site.”
The words came from a woman with short black hair, dressed in a quasi-military uniform. On her left shoulder was an emblem, one which could easily be recognised by the people of her homeworld, fifty white stars on a blue background, and thirteen white and red stripes covering three quarters of the rectangular shape. But in this time and place, it meant nothing, the many, fractured nations of Earth were far away, and those that had come to this distant world had their own sense of community, they had been forced to have one. As such, the emblem on her right arm was far more significant. The word “Atlantis” dominated the top of the symbol – it was the name of the place, the lost city of the Ancients, which now seemed doomed.
“Dialling,” replied the man, Rodney McKay, sitting at a console as he began to press a sequence of large buttons.
Below that, there was a seemingly abstract symbol of a blunted wedge in a wide locking panel, lines upon it. That symbol was a depiction, of one of the locks on the large wheel like shape that dominated the room below them. On the inner surface of that torus, glowing blue symbols, points of light representing star patterns visible high above their heads, interrupted, if one knew where to look, by similar points of light that seemed far more menacing. For those lights were reflections from the hulls of the mighty star-vessels of the Wraith, the ancient enemy who had originally defeated the ancient builders of Atlantis, and who had returned now, to claim it for themselves.
On the wheel, one of the objects that the expedition’s symbol was pattered after came to life. Glowing a bright blue, it made a snap sound as it encoded one of the symbols from the torus into the device’s memory. For the device had a use for those symbols - they represented points in space, and when correctly entered, they would allow the star-gate to plot a course to another world, hundreds, or even thousands of light years away. With enough power, even millions of light years were a triviality to the stargate.
But they were not a triviality to the expedition. Earth was millions of light years away, and without the power of the Ancients at their disposal, unreachable. The second symbol wheeled around the gate, panel after panel showing it until it reached the second of the locks. Once more, the gate emitted a distinctive snap sound, and part of the inner ring glowed, as did the lock.
Then the lights were extinguished. As though power had suddenly been cut - new lights glowed, the locks snapping on one after another as the gate began to activate. Not from the terminal manned by Rodney McKay, the Canadian scientist held by many to be a genuine, if annoying, genius. “We’ve got an incoming wormhole,” he said. The gate cycled through its routine, more of the locks coming to life every second, until at last, the inside of the ring flashed with an uncanny white-blue water, blasting out, rushing forth as if to gush outward and flood the room, before it was abruptly snapped back into a clear rippling surface.
McKay pressed a button, and another field came into being, micrometers from the event horizon of the wormhole that had formed in the ring. The shield flickered into solidity, a physical barrier that would prevent the proper re-forming of any matter or high levels of energy that attempted to pass through, sending them back, scattering them through the hundreds of light years long tunnel between stargates. However, it was permeable enough to permit low energy radio signals through, and such a signal soon passed through it.
A computer by the dialling console flashed an alert, and McKay glanced at it. “Receiving IDC” he said.
A second man, no match for McKay in the realm of gate operation, leaned forward imperceptibly. “Who is it?” asked Major John Sheppard, the senior military officer of the Atlantis expedition. McKay punched a button on the anachronistic earth computer, and practically gaped in astonishment. “Stargate Command-” he said. The wormhole had come millions of light years, all the way from an installation buried deep under a mountain in Colarado.
“Are you sure?” asked the woman.
“Positive,” McKay replied.
“Lower the shield,” she ordered. Elizabeth Weir, commander of the expedition, began a straight dash down from the overhanging control centre into the gate room, where the few remaining military personnel kept their weapons trained squarely on the stargate’s centre as the shield over the rippling ‘water’ flashed off.
Soldiers began to pass through the gate, holding submachine guns at the ready. They looked around, from one side to the other, and then above, finally relaxing. The defending soldiers mirrored the relaxation, it wasn’t a wraith trick, or if it was, it was an absurdly effective one. The highest ranked soldier stepped forward toward Weir, Sheppard and McKay. Behind him, crates, loaded onto wheeled transporters began coming through the gate, driven by more military personnel.
“Doctor Weir,” he said. It wasn’t truly a question, the soldier had read her file, and prided himself on never forgetting a face.
“Yes,” she replied, stepping up to him as he came to a stop.
He introduced himself, extending a hand, “Colonel Dillon Everett, United States Marine Corps,” he said, shaking her hand. His brisk, upbeat manner was an abrupt change from the subdued feelings of the Atlantis expedition.
“You should know that we-” she started, but Everett just talked over her. Apparently quite oblivious to the fact that he was not exactly making the best impression.
“General O’Neill sends his compliments on a job well done under extraordinary circumstances,” he shot her a quick, snappy salute, “You are relieved.”
A number of thoughts ran through Elizabeth’s mind at that moment. Most of them involved choking General O’Neill, or at least the man in front of her. Relieved indeed. She’d been replaced with a military officer? Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Swallowing some of her annoyance, she replied, “Sir,” – though she meant it in far more the way a police officer would call a member of the public sir than in any kind of respectful manner – “We’re about to evacuate.”
Everett seemed disdainful, “Without a fight,” he said.
Major Sheppard hesitated a little, confused by the man’s attitude. This wasn’t Earth, and they neither outnumbered nor outgunned the enemy. “Yes, Sir,” he said.
“On my order,” Weir added quickly, trying to clear up any blame that might have been directed at Major Sheppard.
Everett stood a little straighter, and began issuing orders. “That evacuation order is rescinded. I assume you’ve armed the self destruct device?” It wasn’t a hard guess. The loud warning noises every few seconds were hard to miss.
John tried to exercise patience, “Yes, we have, but as Doctor Weir was trying to tell you-”
Everett again walked over the concept of conversation. Weir was beginning to find this annoying. “I am going to need you to disarm it immediately,” he said, practically oozing smugness.
“Hold on a second,” Weir snapped, “Colonel. I don't think you fully grasp our situation here.”
At last the source of his smugness became apparent, “You have three wraith hive ships bearing down on your position and precious little to defend yourselves with.” He grinned, “That about sum it up?”
McKay smiled slightly, proud that at least his recent scheme to send data through the gate had worked, “You got our message.”
Everett nodded, “We got your message,” he confirmed.
At that moment, a small chime sounded from one of the ancient terminals, ignored by everyone as they continued to talk.
None too far away, in the galactic scale, in a control room not unlike the one on Atlantis, but considerably smaller, a man was attempting to pull himself off the floor. He kept a firm hold of the armrest of his padded chair, and pulled himself upright. “Damage report!” he shouted, rather alarmed at the loose live wire swinging nearby.
“All decks report minor damage, shields offline, main energisers at five percent,” came a reply from a man in a slightly ripped uniform, bright red.
Another man from behind and to the right of the chair turned. “The aperture that pulled us through is closing. It has now shrunk to eighty percent its previous size. If we remain where we are, we risk being cut in half by the sheer forces as it closes.”
The captain of the ship didn’t need to be told twice, and half way through the last sentence, ordered the sublight drives to full power.
The ship shuddered forward, and the captain eased himself back into his chair. The science officer who had given the report turned, “We now appear to be clear of the phenomenon Captain,” he said.
“What is that thing?” the captain demanded.
“I am uncertain,” replied the science officer, “It has some of the characteristics of a wormhole, but far more linear in its internal structure.”
“Speculation?”
“I would say, Captain, that it is some form of passageway through space. Now checking our location.” He punched a few buttons, “I am unable to calculate our location.”
The captain nodded reluctantly. “First things first, close range sensor sweep.” If there was no immediate way to get home he didn’t want to be caught unawares by anything local, “Report anything out of the ordinary.”
“There are several ships at the Lagrange Four point of the second planet captain,” replied the science officer. “A debris field indicates recent destruction of one – metallurgical analysis suggests two of different materials – vessels in the vicinity. Infrared scanners suggest high powered weapons or engine overloads captain.”
“I see… Anything else in system?”
The science officer turned several knobs on a console. “There appears to be some form of landed ship or city on the second planet. It is made of sophisticated materials I cannot quite identify. They match those of the second debris field, but not the ships.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that the two groups are hostile,” the captain said.
“That is logical captain…”
“We’re getting a signal,” McKay said, surprise furrowing his brows.
“The Wraith?” asked Everett, standing nearby.
Sheppard glanced at him, “probably not…”
“Put it up,” said Weir, leaning on an ancient designed console.
McKay nodded as Everett fixed Weir with a stern glare the pen the scientist had been biting fell into his lap as the ancient’s systems display screen changed to show the new vessel’s bridge.
“This is Captain James T Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise…” came over the speakers.
All four stared in mixtures of shock, surprise, and of course, disbelief, “You’ve got to be kidding…” McKay said…
