The Undiscovered Galaxy (SG:A Crossover)

[NecronLord]

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…

[Chris OFarrell]

Oh God, that IS classic. I would pay to see that in a blooper tape

Looks VERY interesting. Me want more!

Though for the record its actauly Sheppard who says 'Sir we're about to evacuate', not Weir.

[SpecWar826]

now this is something i would pay to see on tv

[Xephon]

So, how does this end? Enterprise hails the Wraith and get blown out of the sky? Unless its Enterprise with planet wiping phasers.

[Crazedwraith]

Sweet. Though I don't think the indepth description of the stargate was entirely Necessary.

[NecronLord]

Though I don't think the indepth description of the stargate was entirely Necessary.

Shush you. 'TWas my whim.

Anyway, now I shall see about going back to the other one.

[JME2]

Very interesting. You've got my attention, m'lord...

[Xon]

Except for that it is waaay to short, this looks very interesting.

[NecronLord]

Except for that it is waaay to short, this looks very interesting.

Okay. I confess. It's a preiview. To tease and taunt you.

[Xon]

Except for that it is waaay to short, this looks very interesting.

Okay. I confess. It's a preiview. To tease and taunt you.

You have acheived your stated aim of teasing and taunting

It is nice ot see a crossover like this were there are numerious in universe referances to a series, and then have a crossover with said series. And I know you can actually write, so I expect it will not be a horrible mess.

[NecronLord]

*Ponders a scene involving McKay claiming that Kirk is a hologram and trying to push his hand through Kirk's face.*

[Crazedwraith]

So is this Ent-nil or Ent-A? The chapter didn't seem to specify.

[NecronLord]

A. After ST:V

[SpecWar826]

from the name it sounds a bit like after VI thats all just got me confused for a bit

[Soontir C'boath]

This is going to be good.

[Imajor]

Okay, it's settled, this NEEDS another chapter, which is my whip with which to force NecronLord to write more of this story?

[Sabastian Tombs]

This is going to be so bad for the Wraith.

Because, look at what's going to happen. They are going to capture Kirk, and then try to feed on him. But, in order to do that, they are going to have to rip his shirt and we all know what that means.

[Albert Green]

Hey, Sir:

I hope that you have plans to continue this story.

[NecronLord]

Yes. I'm on a hiatus from writing until I get through (or flunk) a resit exam or two, so don't expect it soon.

[NecronLord]

Chapter 2 – The Siege Pt 2

The highly sophisticated screen aboard the Enterprise’s bridge flickered off into a simple display of the space in front of the vessel, and Captain Kirk leaned back in the padded command chair of the Enterprise. “That was… strange.”

The crew of the city-ship had turned out to be human, which was quite a surprise. Even more surprising was that they had apparently heard of the Enterprise and its crew. They were in fact known as some sort of myth. That would be rather flattering, except for the fact that they were apparently a disparaged myth. In short, the inhabitants had not believed that they were who they claimed to be.

Leaning forwards onto a railing behind his captain, the ship’s science officer nodded gravely, “Indeed…”

“Not fascinating?”

“Oh, it is that,” Spock said, turning back to the science station and tapping keys on a computer panel.

The ship’s weapons officer turned around in his chair to regard the captain, frowning in concentration, his usual humour gone, “Keptain What about the other side? These wraith…”

Kirk nodded, “We must see if they’ll confirm the… human story.”

“Standing by on hailing frequencies, all known languages,” reported the communications officer, a young man who’d taken over the post usually occupied by Lieutenant Commander Uhura, for this shift. Kirk nodded his approval, and Spock turned around again.

“Fascinating,” he said cryptically.

“What is?”

“Record tapes contain data on Doctor Elizabeth Weir. She was a noted late twentieth century diplomat and negotiation expert, responsible for a key role in United States activity during the Eugenics wars. She was assassinated on the orders of Khan Noonien Singh, July tenth, nineteen ninety-four. Shortly before the nuclear decimation of the United States.” Accompanying this, a picture of the woman they had just spoken to, with her hair dyed blonde, appeared on one of the numerous screens about the science station.

“Khan,” Kirk muttered, old wounds reopened at the very name. He suppressed them, he’d dealt with Khan, in the end, though it had cost the life of Spock, temporarily at least, and the lives of some fine Starfleet cadets. Ultimately, the effects of Khan’s cancerous existence had taken the life of Kirk’s son too. She appeared around a decade, given the aging rate of the time, younger there than she had moments ago on the viewer, “What is the earth date now?” Kirk wondered…

Spock worked for a moment. “Making an estimation of the aging of this Weir compared with computer records,” he said, Kirk nodded that seemed like the easiest way to do it, “I would say that this is the year two thousand four on the old Earth calendar,” Spock concluded.

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed the captain. Kirk frowned, deep in thought, his red clad elbow pressing into the armrest of his chair as he leaned his chin on it, unconsciously aping the famous image of Reason. “It would appear,” Spock said, “that we are in some form of alternate timeline.”

“How would twenty first century humans get here of all places?” he asked. This system wasn’t, of course,

Pavel Chekov, the ship’s tactical (and occasional navigation) officer frowned, “Perhaps they have been brought here by someone else. That city looks far more advanced than anything of the time period.”

“Right,” Kirk said, “but if that were so, I’d want to know who is responsible. If not, then I’d want to know how they built it. Either way it’s definitely a mystery.”

Spock leaned forwards, “Regardless, they are here, we should endeavour to find out how, it may provide us with a means to return to the Federation from wherever we are….”

“It would certainly be very valuable to know,” Kirk said, “but we’re assuming it’s not something like the Preservers. They may have no clue how they got here.”

“The only way we will find out the full details of our situation is by further contact Captain.”

“Most logical Mister Spock. Hail the ships.”


“Right, McKay, you want to explain how you did that?” demanded Sheppard.

“Did what?” Rodney asked in sullenness and confusion.

“Make fictional characters hold a conversation with us? And waste our time doing it?”

“It wasn’t me!” he protested, “I mean look!” he punched a button, producing a large picture of the Enterprise drifting in space, then he stabbed his forefinger at it.

“So it’s some sort of wraith trick?” Weir asked, as confused as the others.

“Who cares,” interjected Everett, “This changes nothing. We have still got to prepare to defend this city from the wraith.”

“Right!” exclaimed Weir, glad for the distraction, for now, from this puzzling mystery.


The wraith were an impatient people. It wasn’t an inherent cultural characteristic, but, all told, they did need to eat quite soon. With millions of wraith in the galaxy, and tens of millions of humans, they were acutely aware that they could consume all that food in a few years – they needed to feed four times a year, it was an inescapable part of their essence.

Normally, the wraith hibernated between feedings, and they would logically simply go back to this hibernation. Unfortunately, it took its toll on the wraith physiology. Put simply, the Wraith could choose to either deplete their limited cattle stock, or they could try to go back to hibernation too soon, at the cost of many of their own lives.

The inside of a wraith hive ship was not exactly an airy place; it had more to do with gothic fantasies and nightmares than the creation of a healthy working environment. Working inside this ship’s control centre, a number of wraith were surprised by the fact that someone was actually attempting to communicate with them. That didn’t happen very often. It was even rarer, of course, for someone to try and communicate twice.


Kirk stood in front of the ship’s control panel, rattling off a practiced speech: “This is Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, representing the United Federation of Planets, to whom am I speaking?”

The creature on the screen was clearly a near-human species, though his skin was a sickly texture and dark grey, and he wore a long mane of white hair tied back with a vain perfection. “I am,” he, it was presumably a male, said, “your death…”

“Well,” Kirk said with a slight smile, “that’s not exactly a common name, but interesting nonetheless. Can I persuade you to tell me your version of the situation here?”

The Wraith cruiser’s leader stared in mute astonishment. He’d never seen anyone as self-confident as this man. Even the Atlanteans had been marginally nervous when he’d seen them. Though of course, mostly he had seen them to feed on them, so that came as no great surprise. This human was so incredibly foolish, he almost let his jaw hang gaping like a fish out of water. A feral hiss escaped his throat, and he slapped the communications system off.

He would engage this vessel, alone, and feed on this Captain Kirk. Such qualities made for superb feeding, and he was exceedingly hungry.


“The ship we contacted is breaking formation Keptain,” reported Chekov, “Heading straight for us and deploying small… fighter craft.”

Kirk sighed, “It seems they’re going to provoke us. Mister Spock, full scan of the alien vessel. Mister Chekov, raise shields and arm weapons. Yellow alert.”

“Shields raised Keptain,” he said, “They’ll need time to come up to full power though. Phaser batteries report ready, targeting solutions being calculated for the fighter craft.”

“Power generation two hundred terawatts, unknown source. Enemy acceleration is anomalously fast, suggesting some form of mass lightening technology. They are faster than we are, but we have the advantage in reactor output…”

“Right. Any predictions on its weapons range?” Kirk asked.

“I can’t get any readings Captain. They may be holding off, or we may have a range advantage.”

“Shields?”

Spock gave a carefully noncommittal reply, he didn’t quite know what to make of the enemy’s defences.

“Charge phaser batteries. As soon as they’re in range,” as if to accentuate the point, Chekov reported that the enemy vessel was within one astronomical unit, “Open fire for effect. Vaporise it. Estimated time to arrival?” Kirk asked.

“Weapons range in thirty five minutes Keptain.”

“Good, inform Mister Scott to route full power to the main energisers, and tell him he has thirty minutes…” he knew the chief engineer would complain about the time pressure, but he also knew that he would get the ship working.

The bridge became a bustling hive of activity as the Enterprise went to alert, its mighty engines thrumming deeply as they began routing power to its batteries. Time passed, until finally, the target, preceeded by a wave of fighters, entered combat range Nanoseconds ticked by as the energies of the shields were brought to maximum power, then microseconds as the vessel’s computers picked out the target, and finally milliseconds as the phaser-emitters pivoted with incredible speed… in all, almost half a second passed before the Enterprise fired, lancing out with blue beams of light towards the enemy vessel.

One shot struck its hull, tearing through it like a dervish, buckling structural supports and vaporising atmosphere, then another, blasting portions of its hull apart and ripping its weaker internal structures to shreds. As debris was blasted outwards, the other phaser shots impacted the wraith cruiser…

The cruiser suddenly took on a bright red glow, emanating form the points of impact, spreading across its hull. If one could perceive in the same time scale as the Enterprise’s computer, one would see the hull features of the wraith ship wash away as though they were cheese melting under a flaming grille, becoming a single smooth surface as the disintegration took place. The ship glowed redder and redder, its surface so hot that by rights it should have emitted blue light as the Enterprise’s weapons ravaged it with exotic particles.

Then, the small fighters approached the Enterprise and began to attack it as the unfortunate wraith vessel, and its arrogant commander, faded out of existence, transformed into super-luminal particles and released into the depths of the endless universe.

The Darts fire wasn’t exactly perfect, much of their energies wasted on bolts that missed the target as they opened fire on the Enterprise. The larger ship was deceptively shaken by the impacts. Kirk had been a starship captain for a long time, and he knew that imacts like that tended to be felt only from heavy weapons fire. However, a glance at the shield display showed little draining of their energy reserve, they still operated at over ninety eight percent of their capacity from the few impacts so far.

The darts formed up for an attack run, it was of course, a fatal mistake. Aboard the Enterprise’s bridge, the captain wasted only a moment in deliberation before giving his next order.

A pair of photon torpedoes shot from their tubes below the majestic vessel’s saucer, glowing with red malevolence as they entered the dart formation. An alert pilot managed to down one of the projectiles, but the other passed unmolested. Then it switched off, a compressed piece of antimatter exploded outwards into a lattice of dense, photon rich, elements.

A blinding flash of nuclear fury burst in every direction, illuminating the Enterprise’s shields for a moment, and ripping the fragile fighters apart.


Everett and Sheppard had just emerged from the ancient’s projection room (or as McKay had termed it for a while, the holodeck) when the sensors started ‘going nuts’ as Radek Zelenka, his deputy, had put it. Various sub-systems whose function had yet to be divined by the team working on uncovering the city’s secrets lit up and displayed data. Rodney gave in to temptation after a moment and jumped out in front of the pair as they were about to descend the steps to oversee yet more equipment distribution to the rest of the city.

“You have got to see this!” he proclaimed, taking a step back into the control centre. He groaned, having noticed their lack of enthusiasm to follow him, “It’s really important!”

The display showed distant dots engaging one another: “What’s going on?” Everett demanded.

McKay gave him an intolerant glare. “The ‘Wraith Trick’ is shooting up a Wraith attack force.”

Sheppard leaned down until his nose practically touched the display, “Who’s winning?”

“Well,” McKay looked at the screen, “If you’d stop trying to lick the display clean, I’d have a look.” The major snapped up straight with all the discipline of a ceremonial guard. “Thank you!” Rodney said. At that moment, the red sphere on the display indicating the wraith vessel flared brightly for a moment and then vanished.

“The Enterprise.”


The red doors of the Enterprise’s bridge slid slowly open, and its chief medical officer, Leonard McCoy, strode out onto the bridge. “Did we win?”

Kirk smiled, and gestured towards Chekov. “All enemy vessels,” he pronounced it ‘wessels’ “are remaining where they are Doctor.”

“I take it this means we’re throwing in with the ones on the planet?” McCoy added speculatively.

“Apparently so,” Spock said, “The Captain wishes to go to the planet immediately to make further contact.”

“Oh boy,” the surgeon said, “this is going to be…” – he glanced at Spock, and restrained his desire to use Spock’s favourite word – “fun…” he finished instead.

“Indeed,” the Vulcan said as they ship jumped to warp speed…

----

Special thanks to GGS for proofreading and suggestions for this chapter. IIRC, Crazedwraith is a volunteer too...

[darthdavid]

Good stuff you've got here.

[LadyTevar]

oh, I LOVE it! Please continue?

[Singular Quartet]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.... this is awesome.

[Imajor]

Great going so far, I would LOVE to see more.

[Darth Yoshi]

Nice. Go Enterprise.

Does this mean there was a Borg/Goa'uld showdown in ST-verse Milky Way?