A/N: Apologies for the delay but at the moment I am buried under a mountain of work so this was made between the lines of my spare time. Please review and enjoy.
Previously on Stargate Millennium
The Millennium Expedition has encountered the Stargate Council, a political extremist group that sees the SGC as a corrupt organization. Before attacking the expedition, they reveal they take their marching orders from a man they simply refer to as the Director. The conflict has left the city of Millennium in ruins and cost hundreds of lives. Seeking help, Wolf Pack was sent in search of the Furlings, the last race to be encountered in the Alliance of Four Great Races. The Furlings were still hesitant in trusting the humans of Earth but they did promise to give them a chance to prove themselves. As a gift, the Furlings gave the expedition two power sources, enough for a round trip to Earth and back, a chance for everyone to see their loved ones one last time.
-.-
The SGC has been running for over ten years. In that ten years, they have encountered both wonders and horrors of the universe and Earth has certainly made progress in making its presence felt. Three expeditions had been formed and sent thus far. One could easily contact Earth. The other was in the middle of its three year journey through the void of space. And the third, nobody knew if they would ever hear from them again. Getting an unscheduled incoming wormhole was one thing but to hear that it was that expedition, the Millennium Expedition was another. The conversation with the SGC was shorter than Mercer expected. What took the longest was convincing them of letting the bulk of the Millennium Expedition to return. They were leaving Millennium very open by doing this, but Mercer felt the risk was worth it. They could've saved the power sources, but Mercer felt they could bring back food and supplies to make up for the ones they lost. The General was convinced that this was the best course of action. The Furlings gave them these two power supplies for the sole purpose of visiting their loved ones on Earth and he was not denying any of them this opportunity. The iris was open and they all went through.
-.-
Christopher Umar muttered in agitation as he arrived at the airport. There was so much processing they all had to go through: medical screening, psychological evaluations, debriefings. He had also forgotten how hot southern Nigeria could be. He had to find a way to get to his house. But, he didn't need to. He didn't think much of the woman holding a cardboard sign at first, but then he realized it had his name written right on it. When he saw who was holding it, his knees just gave in. He's seen combat plenty of times but, seeing his wife after all this time, he could not move. She walked to him and embraced her husband.
-.-
Australia hadn't changed much since he left. Charles Martin was impatiently knocking on the front door of a house.
"Hello, is anyone in?!" he yelled. "My knuckles are bruising off your door. Hello?!" He practically jumped out of his skin when he heard a crash directly behind him. His sister had finally returned home with a bag of groceries. But, seeing her brother back from a trip he was never supposed to return from, that bag meant nothing as it hit the ground. Martin waved nervously.
"Hi?" he stuttered.
He didn't get another word out as his sister jumped on him, her head in his shoulder.
-.-
On the plane back to Britain, Kara Osborn had a pair of headphones to cancel out all the noise. She wanted to tell all these passengers what she has seen, what was waiting out there. She hated that the stargate was still classified.
The plane touched down and she quickly departed. She didn't think much of the man who walked up beside her as she left the airport until he removed an earpiece and said, "You're looking lost, stranger." She looked up. She knew that voice.
"Dad!" she gasped, grabbing her father in a tight embrace.
-.-
Jennifer Hailey did not have to endure a transcontinental plane ride since she lived right in America. The timing could not have been more perfect. Hailey's little sister was graduating college that day. She waited impatiently outside the basketball stadium where it happened as the graduates lined up. It was there they saw each other. The uniform, the face, it was unmistakable. The only mystery was which one was crying harder as the Hailey's hugged each other.
-.-
Nova raised her fist to knock on the door. It had been so long. It would've been easier to just not to this at all. They had a bad history but that was a long time ago. She gave a sigh, raised her fist, and gently knocked on the door. If they weren't home she could stall this. She prayed they weren't home. No luck. The door opened, a tall woman peeking out.
"Can I help you?" she asked nervously, not recognizing the person in front of her. This was a respectable woman, how could they recognize her? Nova gathered her nerves and finally spoke.
"Theresa Naves wanted me to stop by."
The expression on the woman's face changed. She couldn't tell if it was anger or sadness.
"What does she want?" the woman asked. Nova felt her blood run cold, every muscle telling her to just turn and leave, before finally saying it.
"I wanted to see how you were doing." The woman stared at Nova in confusion before realizing what she meant, her eyes widening in surprise. "Hello mother," Nova said with a weak smile.
Stargate
Millennium
Night had fallen on Earth and General William Mercer found himself walking about the cement corridors of the SGC alone. He thought he would never see this place again and the walk through it was surprisingly pleasant. His hands were folded behind his back, his eyes closed, as he considered the situation at hand. However, his face was tense and even if his eyes were open his expression would only be a glare. There was a lot to tell Earth about and he expected there to be repercussions. The Ror'char: an intergalactic civilization that has been studying and utilizing Alliance technology long before them. The Harvesters: an enigmatic race of creatures infamous for abducting the population of entire cities even planets. The Quinterans: a race of humans once declared to be the Fifth Race by the Ancients before their ascension but proceeded to squander the title by conquering every planet in sight.
He walked into one of the many offices in the buildings, usually reserved for government officials when they need to conduct business inside the SGC. This one in particular had already been reserved.
"Good evening…Mr. Dovelock," General Mercer said. "I believe you called." The wrinkly man with a head half full of hair looked up at the sound of his name.
"General," Luther Dovelock greeted. "I've been reading over the mission reports sent back from Millennium. I must admit I'm impressed with the performance of several of these teams."
"We did send the best," Mercer remarked. He never said it but he was proud of each and every member of the expedition. From the annoying Yuri Solotov to the overly ambitious Jennifer Hailey to the calm and collected Terra Nova, their performance had surpassed his every expectations.
"Well, the IOA believes we still might be able to filter out the best among them," Dovelock said, handing the General a small stack of papers. "Among the files sent back were the planets in your galaxy map that have had MALP's sent to them. We've compiled a list of planets you can send your teams to. This should test their skills and abilities." Mercer's eyes narrowed in agitation as he picked up the papers and began to sift through them as Dovelock continued talking. "Judging from the history of the SGC as well as reports from both Millennium and Atlantis, team performance is maximized when they have at least one alien to act as an advisor. You should find more in Caldwell 70 and attempt to recruit them to test this theory."
"Mr. Dovelock," Mercer spoke up, flipping through the papers he held. "Many of the planets suggested have been rated as incredibly dangerous. One has been marked as a Ror'char major city, two of them are Harvester hunting grounds. The addresses get continuously worse."
"That's the point," Luthor Dovelock pointed out impatiently. "General Mercer, suppose SG-1 were to be sent to any of the planets we recommended, knowing their reputation, do you have any doubt they could perform standard reconnaissance and get off the planet alive?"
"Perhaps not, but you are aware that if a team fails to live up to your expectations, they are likely killed," Mercer said grimly. Luthor did not reply, at least not immediately, but when he did, Mercer did not like the answer.
"As accomplished as SG-1 is, they were a loose cannon. Most of their successes were through pure luck. Imagine what we could do if we have a team with the same abilities that actually obeyed the regulations."
"In other words, you simply want to be the one who pulls the strings. You're disturbed by the marionette that can operate independently."
"It's not just that," Luthor argued. He knew William Mercer felt nothing but contempt toward politicians but he hoped the General could understand their position. "We admit, there have been successes because of the disregard toward protocol, but there have also been several very close calls because of it too. What are we to do if the SGC had failed to contain one alien incursion because SG-1 chose to disobey? Besides, the IOA's disregarding a lot of protocol letting you lead the Millennium Expedition."
"Because of Am-heh?" Mercer asked. Am-heh was the symbiote that resided within General Mercer, a former Goa'uld, a former ashrak, a killer, a monster. "Need I remind you that the Tok'ra are still a dying race and the galaxy of Caldwell 70 may just hold the cure? As allies of the Tau'ri, you are obliged to help."
"It's not that we don't want to help the Tok'ra. It's the symbiote you have."
"The SGC has worked with former enemies in the past. Why is this any different?"
"What we think is irrelevant. The different political parties involved with the SGC are to meet and discuss the repercussions of the Millennium Expedition."
Before the two of them could continue talking, the phone on the desk began to ring.
"Dovelock," Luthor greeted. He paused to listen to the person on the other side. Mercer remained quiet while Luthor had his conversation but he could tell from the man's expression that something had come up.
-.-
It was getting late and Terra Nova decided to leave her mother's house. She remembered her childhood here. There were no pictures on the shelves like most households. Likely the pain they brought was too great for her parents to keep. All Terra could wonder is what would happen if her life had played out differently. She became involved with the Stargate Program because she was in the Air Force and she only joined the Air Force to try to make up for who she used to be. What would happen if she hadn't become that self-entitled brat?
She wanted to visit her father but it was late and the cemetery was already closed. She could only stand outside and stare past the fence. Last she saw him, last she saw her family at all, she was a teenager storming out the door with a trunk full of stuff and screaming at them how she hoped 'they die in a car crash'. Just one in a list of things she could never take back. And, in sick irony, that's exactly how he died. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried to make up for her past, it's always too late.
"Sorry dad," she muttered. It was fitting that she felt the rain begin to fall, the cold water spattering against her cheek. It also gave her an excuse to finally leave.
Her car wasn't that far behind her but the water was coming down hard. This wasn't a light rain; there was neither lightning nor wind but it was showering. She had just reached her car door when she spotted a pair of headlights through the drizzle. Another car was quickly approaching. Nova's hand shot to the gun holstered at her waist before relaxing. Coming back to Earth from the Millennium, her fighting instincts were still in her. Every noise and every approaching vehicle still registered as a potential threat. She had to tell herself that she was safe and her hand relaxed again.
"Major Nova!" a voice called out. She hadn't heard this voice in a long time; she didn't even recognize it at first.
"Well, it's Major 'Disaster' Davis," she humorously called out. This was the name he had earned himself among many SG personnel for his habit of only showing up when there was some major crisis. "How'd you find me?"
"It's Lieutenant Colonel now," Paul Davis corrected. "We spoke to your mother; she said that you might be here. Major Nova, you volunteered to be called back to active duty should the need arise?" Nova knew what he meant. The Millennium Expedition was only visiting Earth and would return to NGC 300; the SGC wanted to give every expedition member a chance to be with their families. However, some expedition members, for various reasons, were willing to continue working despite their one week of leave and Nova was one of them.
"What happened?" she asked over the sound of the pouring rain which came down in gallons.
"I rather talk about it back at the SGC," Davis announced. Nova maintained her tired stare at Colonel Davis before giving a sigh. It was back to Stargate Command.
-.-
Nova would be lying if she said she didn't miss the SGC. She watched the two guards patrolling past the tunnel entrance as she drove past the guard booth. Still, she could not help but wonder what was so important. Her question was answered soon enough when she was escorted down to the interrogation room, or at least the observation room that over looked it, where a young blonde woman sat. Nova didn't immediately recognize her but the man who observed the prisoner did.
"Charlotte Mayfield, AKA, Athena, AKA-"
"Former vice president of Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics," Nova said, reciting what she remembered. She looked at the person who had first spoken. Short scruffy hair, rectangular glasses, even a small amount of scruff covering his jaw, she recognized him from all the photos.
"Daniel Jackson?" she asked. She had to confirm. It would be embarrassing if she had mistaken someone else for him. He looked at her as if to see who had called his name. There was no doubt; this was Doctor Daniel Jackson. "I'm Terra Nova. Your reputation precedes you."
"Um…thanks," Daniel stuttered, not sure how to take the compliment. "Wait, Terra Nova? You led the team that found the Furlings; congratulations on that." Nova smiled humbly. Everyone knew SG-1 and the only two members of SG-1 that knew her were O'Neill and Carter because they were her mentors. She was honored that she was building a reputation that could even catch SG-1's eye.
"What's the story with her?" Nova asked, changing the subject. She remembered reading the report on when Athena tried to kidnap Vala Mal Doran, dressing up as Air Force officers and managing to get Vala into the car, but the alien pirate fought back and caused the car to go off the road. Two Trust operatives were killed but Athena went missing, probably because they now knew Goa'uld's identity.
"Well, from what I've been told, Jack found her in his house," Daniel remarked. Nova could not help but chuckle in amusement. O'Neill still didn't lock his door. "She says she has information about the Trust but won't say much more except that she wants to talk to the original four members of SG-1." Even Nova had to raise a suspicious eyebrow at this oddly specific request.
A loud hum caught her and Daniel's attention as the door to the observation room opened.
"Danny boy," General O'Neill called from the doorway. Daniel gave Nova a nod before heading over to O'Neill as General Mercer walked in with another person. She was surprised General Landry wasn't here to observe the interrogation, but he was likely watching via the security cameras and didn't need to be in the observation room.
"Jack, what's going on?" Daniel asked as the door closed again. Nova eavesdropped on the conversation between Daniel and O'Neill before the door shut.
"You tell me, I just got here," Jack said in equal confusion.
"She didn't say why she wanted someone from the Millennium Expedition?"
The door closed before Terra could hear more. Nova felt slightly saddened that her other mentor, the legendary General Jack O'Neill, two L's as he would insist, did not say hello though she understood it might be because he already had a lot on his mind. From what she just heard, Athena not only wanted SG-1 but wanted someone from the Millennium Expedition to hear this too. But why?
"General," Nova greeted Mercer.
"Major Nova, this is Luthor Dovelock of the IOA," Mercer introduced. Nova noticed how uncomfortable Luthor was when Mercer revealed the connection to the IOA. The relation between the IOA and the SGC was not a good one with nearly every SG personnel feeling the IOA was nothing but a bunch of stuck up bureaucrats. Nova was not as harsh on the IOA as most but her perception was still a negative one.
"Major," Luthor said in a friendly tone. "Congratulations on your discovery of the Furlings." Nova nodded graciously. They all quieted down when the door on the inside opened, O'Neill and Daniel Jackson stepping in. Athena was certainly agitated by her wait.
-.-
Athena glared at Jackson and O'Neill as they stepped in. She wore nothing but the blue jumpsuit the SGC provided to make sure she wasn't hiding anything in her original clothing. But, she wasn't angry about being detained, she surrendered to the SGC in the home of the former leader of SG-1. She was angry about the wait.
"I am so sorry," O'Neill said casually, almost mockingly. "You know how the office is nowadays. Memos get buried under all the other paperwork." Athena was not the least bit amused.
"I offered to share knowledge about the Trust with you and you still had me wait," she glowered, her voice deepened by the Goa'uld inside her body.
"Yeah…what we don't get is why," Daniel spoke up before O'Neill could say more. Jackson took the whole situation a lot more seriously and didn't think Jack's snarky attitude would help. "Last time we met, you tried to kidnap a member of this facility." The Goa'uld smirked at this comment. If Vala hadn't gotten into a standoff with Mitchell, Athena would never have been able to crawl away from the car crash.
"This is the reason I have come back," the goddess of strategy said. "As vice president of Farrow-Marshall, I was able to provide the Trust with a fair amount of power in multiple fields. After I was exposed I had to go into hiding, losing a very valuable position." Daniel nodded, taking in what he heard.
"They had others but every position of power counts," he muttered to himself. "I'm guessing it was only a matter of time before they realized you lost your position because of greed." O'Neill had to hold back a laugh.
"So, you dun goofed and they kicked you out on your ass for it," the General chuckled. "You see, what I don't get is what makes you think we would care?"
"Because it is more than that," Athena said darkly. "After the death of Ba'al, leadership of the Trust changed hands. The new leadership was less than happy with what I did and has ordered my execution," Athena said darkly. "I am to be made an example of for the whole organization."
"If you want us to trust you, we need-" Daniel began to say but Jack just had to cut in.
"Wait, I have an idea: how about we let the Trust have you so you'll be dead…and we'll be glad!"
"I can provide you with much needed knowledge to combat the Trust," Athena said, almost begging. "Your previous tactics are no longer going to work, not against Ammit."
"Ammit," Daniel instinctively muttered, his mind quickly going over everything he knew.
"Daniel?" O'Neill asked. This was Doctor Jackson's field of expertise after all and Daniel found himself babbling as much as he could.
"Also known as Devourer of the Dead, Eater of Hearts, Bone Eater, in Ancient Egyptian mythology she was the incarnation of divine retribution, destroying the hearts of anyone who was judged unworthy. Nicknamed 'Devourer of Millions', demons such as Am-heh were often considered her aspects or even just another name for her."
"Ammit is a master ashrak," Athena clarified. "And she has ordered my death. All I ask is protection in exchange for my knowledge of the inner workings of the Trust. From the Atlantis Expedition to the Millennium Expedition, she has plans for all of you and I can help you stop her."
-.-
Nova kept her eyes on Athena, though occasionally glanced at the people beside her. By the time Terra Nova had joined the SGC, most of the major System Lords were already dead. Still, Nova knew about the Goa'uld, their arrogance and their classic villain monologues. This was not what she expected. Terra had kept her eyes locked on Athena's face, taking note of every little facial movement. The Goa'uld occasionally made the arrogant smirk but this seemed to be a result of wounded pride. From what Nova could tell, Athena was more afraid than anything else. She looked at General Mercer, wondering if his symbiote, Am-heh, had anything to say. She was surprised by his facial expression. Mercer's face was tense, his eyes squinted into a glare. His face had only tensed at the mention of Ammit.
-.-
The SGC was already up in arms over Athena's sudden and unexpected surrender. Some saw this as the perfect opportunity to tear the Trust apart, to find their soft point and stab into it. Others were not so eager.
"Has anybody considered that maybe she's lying?" O'Neill exclaimed irritably as he walked around the briefing room.
"I'm sorry, Jack, but it's out of my hands," Landry argued from his seat. "The IOA believes this to be the best chance to take down the Trust." O'Neill put his hand to his head and groaned in irritation. Of course the IOA was going to believe this. Took risks when it wasn't necessary and refused to take them when they were.
"Jack," Daniel spoke up. "This could be our one chance to get rid of the Trust once and for all."
"And if we're going to make a decision we better make it fast," Landry added. "Both the jaffa and the Tok'ra want a piece of her."
"I guess that make sense; she may not have been a System Lords but she did serve as an underlord."
"Well, 'em have her," O'Neill insisted.
"Jack, the IOA's already made their choice," Landry said, standing up. This conversation was drawing to a close anyways. "They want to hear out Athena."
-.-
Under normal circumstances, General Mercer would stare out a window when he needed to take the time to think. But, they were underground so he could only sit at an office desk that he was temporarily given. Nova had decided to follow the General; she had questions for him.
"It's been such a long time," Mercer remarked, leaning back in his chair. "Quite honestly, I was hoping the issue with the Trust would be resolved by the time we returned."
"It's probably going to take a while before the Milky Way is ridded of the Goa'uld," Nova pointed out, pacing back and forth. "The war with the Goa'uld only happened a few years ago; hunting them all down will take time. Who knows, they might even try one last attack before they go out. But, I wanted to ask you a few questions?" Mercer raised a curious eyebrow at this statement as Nova clarified, "Or, more precisely, I wanted to ask Am-heh a few questions."
Mercer's eyes gave a furious glow as control was switched between symbiote and host. Only the highest ranking members of the SGC and the IOA as well as Terra Nova's team, Wolf Pack, was aware of Am-heh, former Goa'uld assassin, trusted by neither the jaffa nor the Tok'ra, seeking the Tau'ri for redemption.
"What is your inquiry?" Am-heh asked in a calm, almost pleasant, voice.
"You know who Ammit is," Nova stated without hesitation. "When Athena mentioned her name you became frustrated. Daniel knows Ammit by mythology. Athena knows her by reputation. But, you seemed to know her personally. Who is she?"
Am-heh leaned forward in his chair, considering his answer. He always knew that he would eventually have to answer this question. At the very least, he was being questioned by a subordinate and not a committee of politicians.
"Ammit…was my partner," Am-heh finally said. "Thousands of years ago, a rogue group of Goa'uld scientists captured infant symbiotes from across the galaxy and forced implantation. At such a young age, most of the symbiotes were not strong enough to survive the process and those who did would have trouble remaining in control of their host's body. This was merely the first step in our training."
Am-heh closed his eyes as his mind went back to that moment thousands of years ago.
He remembered that moment when he was first given a host. The air felt freezing and the only source of warmth of the exposed neck of the terrified human in front of him. As he drove into the flesh like a pool of warm water, it felt like he was expanding, growing larger and larger it was almost a wonder that his host didn't simply burst open. Then he realized that he was not growing larger rather he had seized control of the body. He could feel every limb as if it was his own. In a way, it was. These were his limbs for this was now his body. He sat up, looking at his own hand. He was once just a worm that slithered across the ground. Now, he had a real body, he had limbs, and with that thought he smiled.
"They referred to us as 'hunters' and 'enforcers of the Goa'uld Empire', we were to be an elite force of ashrak and they kept us together and taught us at all times of the day and night. They taught us political science and economics as well as strategic studies. We learned martial arts, and free running, and my favorite: swordsmanship."
Only a handful of jaffa stood guard, watching them train. In one ring, several trainees were firing staff weapons at wooden posts. In another ring, a pair of trainees were practicing unarmed combat barefoot, the floor of the ring composed of jagged rocks. Am-heh was more focused on his ring, where he was in the middle of fighting another trainee with a shikra sabre. They were both furiously slashing and stabbing at each other at lightning speed. In the midst of the chaos, the young Am-heh in his younger host stumbled backwards, losing his balance on a random item placed on the ground. His opponent saw the opportunity and immediately moved in. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Am-heh slashed in front of him. Am-heh regained his balance and saw that the opponent had fallen to the ground, hands covering his eyes and screaming in pain. Am-heh stared at his former enemy, actually horrified by what he did, but a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. It was one of the Goa'uld scientists heading the project. He could not help but feel a chill looking into the six-lensed mechanical goggles the scientist wore.
"Don't worry," the scientist said with an almost demented smile, impressed by Am-heh. "His only real reason for living was to help you further achieve your goals."
"Once the training was complete, our services were provided to the System Lords, who paid our handlers handsomely with slaves, jaffa, naquadah, and technology. I was sure that I would emerge as the best of the hunters, I firmly believed it and I would endure training to make it a reality."
"How does Ammit play into all this?" Nova asked.
"Countless ashrak went into training and only a handful survived and both I and Ammit were ranked the top. We became partners for many missions. However, Ra became greedy and launched an attack on our encampment to claim all the ashrak for himself. However, we proved more resilient that he anticipated and the elite ashraks he hoped to claim for himself escaped, loyal to nobody but themselves, bowing down to no god."
"And Ammit?"
Am-heh's face sagged. This was the first time Nova has ever seen Mercer express any serious emotion.
"She turned on me and I was forced to kill her amidst the chaos," he admitted. "Athena is oblivious to my defection so it is possible she is lying. And if Athena is sincere and Ammit somehow survived, then I cannot help but wonder where she has been all this time and what her plans are. I watched Ammit die but we were trained to be able to fake our deaths. Major Nova, I give you this one warning: don't let your guard down. Do not, under any circumstance underestimate an ashrak, especially one as skilled as Ammit. An ashrak has many skills and tools at his disposal and she will use all of them." Am-heh paused, taking in the moment. His eyes glowed as control between the host and the symbiote switched once again.
"Major Nova," Mercer said. "The IOA's given the green light on Operation Typhon, the final strike that is to end the Trust."
"If Homeworld Command's making a move against the Trust, I want in," Nova immediately said.
"I figured you would," Mercer chuckled with a smile. "I can pull some strings in order to make that happen. I will remain behind. There are politicians to deal with. Just remember, we are supposed to return to Millennium before the week's end."
"That gives us one week to end the Trust or, at the very least, deal the crippling blow."
"I will recall you to return to Millennium at the end of the week regardless of whether or not your mission is a success."
"Then we better start preparing."
"The ship is being prepared right now."
Nova gave Mercer a confused stare.
"Ship?" she repeated.
-.-
A quick plane ride to a secret military base out in the Nevada desert and an elevator ride to the bottom and she understood what Mercer meant.
"This is the X-305," a voice said proudly. Nova straightened up. She knew that voice.
"Colonel Carter!" she exclaimed in shock. Nova straightened her back to stand at attention in the presence of her first mentor. Carter only chuckled at this.
"At ease," Carter said quickly as she came down the walkway with General O'Neill. The three of them looked out across the hangar bay, admiring the sight of the giant ship in front of them.
"They actually finished it," Nova remarked, admiring the ship in front of them.
"The 305 is a stealth frigate," Carter explained proudly. "This is the first ship designed using the Asgard core. Armed with Mark VIII and Mark IX nuclear missiles and a single plasma beam weapon as its main cannon."
"Wasn't the 305's also supposed to be able reach Millennium?" Nova asked. O'Neill gave Carter an amused look, remembering that this was what she wanted it to do."
"The intergalactic hyperdrive is still a work in progress. We launched the Typhon to Millennium several months ago but the hyperdrive burned out. Luckily, the ship had only reached the edge of the Milky Way and could be towed back."
"You know, have you tried following the instruction manual the Asgard left for us?" O'Neill asked. Carter gave a smile.
"We're still working out the kinks," she admitted. "Us trying to build their hyperdrives exactly the way they have it would be the equivalent trying to build a nuclear power plant during the Colonial Era. It's going to be a while before we get to their level."
"It's also a bit smaller," O'Neill pointed out in disappointment. "They cut the budget or something."
"The 305 is a stealth frigate," Carter explained with a laugh. "It can convert its shield into a cloak and it has smaller cloaks for all its nukes which we can fire while still cloaked."
"They'll never realize what hit them," Nova chuckled with a smile. It made sense to her. The 304's were now able to go toe to toe with Lucian Alliance ha'taks and Wraith hive ships but if they ever found another powerful enemy, then they would be back to square one; they couldn't completely rely on the Asgard beam weapons. Now, they could even take on far more powerful ships with the 305.
"Pound for pound, it can't compare to our 304 but its stealth systems allow it to fight much stronger ships if it isn't detected. The Typhon is going to serve as the headquarters for this operation." Carter prepared to lead Nova inside but O'Neill had to get his question in.
"Major Nova," he called out quickly, jogging up to her. "Before you head out…I got to know. What do they look like?" Nova gave her other teacher a confused look.
"What do who look like?" she asked.
"You know, the Furlings."
Nova had to look down to hide her laugh. Word had gotten around that she was now the first and only one to see the Furlings and everyone wanted to know what she saw.
"Sorry, General," she laughed. "I was barely conscious. I couldn't tell you if they had fur or if they're completely bald." O'Neill groaned in disappointment. This was the question he's had for a long time: what do the Furlings look like?
"Well ladies…have fun," he remarked.
-.-
The ship was definitely a lot smaller than the 303 or the 304's but Nova noticed that there was a lot more advanced equipment. The bridge didn't even look like the bridges from either ship. It was a chamber, racks of computer monitors lining the walls with technicians at the computers. The different screens showed different parts of the ship as well as scans and readings around it. Carter went to the elevated platform at the center of the room and picked up an earpiece.
"This is Colonel Samantha Carter of the Typhon, we request permission to launch."
"This is Lieutenant Colonel Paul Davis of Homeworld Command, you have permission to launch. Good luck."
There was a hiss as the hangar doors hissed open, light hitting the ship for the first time in months. It still bore resemblance to 304's that preceded it but was a lot smaller, what would be its hangar bays fused to its body but now held an array of forward firing missile tubes.
"Engaging cloak," a technician announced. With that, the ship seemed to vanish as it headed into the atmosphere. There was no window but the monitors showed the ship rise up into the atmosphere.
"You ok?" Carter asked when she noticed the expression on Nova's face.
"It's just that this is the first time I'm going on a mission without my team," Nova admitted. "Corin and Chen are back on Millennium. Martin's in Australia."
"I know the feeling," Carter said assumingly, thinking about when she left SG-1. "Set a course for low Earth orbit," Carter ordered. "It's time to get to work."
-.-
Earth may have been safer since the start of the Stargate Program thanks to all the advances in alien technology, but its defenses were not flawless. A cargo ship sat hidden in a forest somewhere on the planet. In the back room, a man sat at a small table, enjoying his meal. The two tail flaps of his crimson duster hung on either end of the chair. He looked past his long golden hair with a smile as he spoke to the woman beside him. She straightened her grey cassock, watching the man eat.
"We've got confirmation," she said. "The Typhon flies. The SGC's making their move to end the Trust. We have our audience's undivided attention."
"Duat, Ammit, once I start my dance, I dance to the bitter end," the eating man said, glancing at the man on the other side of the chair, a tall, slim, and wearing a six-lensed mechanical goggle and a long white lab coat.
"Enjoy it to the fullest, Director," the man in the lab coat said. "They're also aware of Ammit's involvement with the Trust. I think they might be putting it together." The Director stopped eating for a moment when he heard this.
"Put together?" he snorted in amusement at the thought. "Nonsense. They don't know anything about anything. We're in the midst of the introduction; they haven't even reached the rising action yet."
"You seem to be enjoying all this."
"Enjoying is a complete understatement. I'm ecstatic; absolutely giddy with excitement. We played the System Lords into fighting each other for thousands of years; imagine the violence that awaits us with the Tau'ri."