The energy space tunnel was a concept used in the Season 3 episode "The Lone and Level Sands." on Andromeda.
Notes: The story takes into consideration a hiatus between where the previous story ⌠How the Other Half Lives■ left off.
"Hail the Conquering Hero" by Karen
"At times, Colonel O'Neill, I despair of your common sense listening to your well-intentioned drive to play hero," General Hammond shook his head, and then spared a speculative look at their newest guest.
The fact that she had not arrived via the iris of the Gate, was itself a mystery, add to that, that her presence her indicated that parallel universes did indeed exist, were not comforting thoughts.
After all, he had an entire base and its personnel and its mission to safeguard here, and his best field operatives SG-1 were all for running into another situation with little or no intelligence on which to base it.
Trance glanced from one serious face to another, empathizing with the problem presented before her new friends, and the obvious need for a decision to be made at what to do with her sudden appearance in their midst.
"Let me assure you, General Hammond, I mean no harm to any one on this base, in fact, I would appreciate any assistance that you could offer me."
"Miss Gemini," Hammond began before Trance said with a wink and a smile.
"Please, I know you are either being polite or going within the confines of your planet's military protocol, but, please, call me Trance." She offered a tight,wry little smile. "All of my friends do."
"Very well, Trance it is. Hammond, in spite of the serious nature of the discussion returned her tight wry smile.
"These friends of yours, where are they and how do we find them?"
Hammond turned to Major Sammantha Carter, I do hope that it does mean having to repeat the set of circumstances that led up to your previous disappearance from the known galaxy."
"I should hope not, Sir," Major Carter replied. "Although, I must say, from what we did manage to observe on our previous visit, this is the first alternate reality where we did not have parallel counterparts to contend with. That one wrinkle that I never could quite wrap me head around."
With a lift of one heavily-lined kohl-painted eyebrow Teal'C offered his opinion of the last statement. "Indeed."
"A man of few words," Trance observed.
"Oh, don't worry," Colonel O'Neill remarked. After several years serving on the Stargate Program under the command of General Hamond Jack O'Neill knew just how far he could push the envelope when it came to wise-cracks and off-the-cuff sarcasm.
"Get him drunk or mad enough, Teal'c can be quite lively and boisterous."
"Uh, Jack," Doctor Daniel Jackson finally added. "I don't think you should go there, if you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, yeah,■ O'Neill muttered waving one hand in the air. Daniel, I get it already. So are we helping Trance or not?"
"I may live to regret this, but you and your team have a go," Hammond sighed. "The question is where are you going?"
"What planet did you say you were from again, Trance?"
"Somewhere near the planetary core of the solar system, originally."
Trance sighed, realizing that even in her own universe the chances of reaching the original home world of the Systems Commonwealth, were slim to none. None, in the last three hundred years in her universe'ss timeline.
Even the best pilot in the known galaxy could not reach Tarn Vedra, and of those who had tried, failed, went mad, or perished in the attempt. Beka and the crew of the Andromeda Ascendant had tried and due to circumstances beyond their control had been forced to make the difficult of turning back, both for the crew and the ship's safety, as well as for the well-being of Captain Beka Valentine.
Trance sighed, of course she could not very well tell them that Tarn Vedra was not actually her home world, but that of her captain, Dylan Hunt, her people'ss home world had gone nova at the time that Tarn Vedra vanished from all known star charts and navigable slip stream corridors.
"Even if its at all possible. We're looking for a ship not a planet."
"It's a big universe, er, universes," Daniel said. "How do you expect us to find one ship out in the big black galaxy?"
"It is a very big ship."
"Yeah, I remember," Daniel replied, thinking back to how he had been accosted by the very attractive and very strong female android and dragged all over that very same gigantic ship. "I wouldn't mind getting a closer look at what makes it tick."
"I think we could arrange that," Trance replied. "However, you might have to take that up with Rommie. She might take offense at anyone poking around in her core memory. Harper was nearly killed the first time he tried to interface with the ship."
"Do you think Mr. Harper might teach me how to do that?" Doctor Jackson asked, intrigued by the possibility of interfacing with a star ship, not to mention that the Andromeda's avatar, but he was not going to say that out loud, at least not within the hearing of his commanding officer and fellow teammates.
Trance caught the undertone but politely chose to ignore it. "Maybe, maybe not. Depends on how he's feeling at the moment.
"Great, just great," O'Neill muttered, "Okay, kids, can we focus on the task at hand. How are we going to go about doing any of this?"
"Another spatial anomaly?" Carter offered. "That seemed to do the trick the last time."
"Sounds like a plan to me," O'Neill smiled.
Meanwhile in that alternate universe
Gold Trance crept around the corner of the wall that separated the main hallway from the engine room, Harper had managed to remove the wall panels and was crouched down half in and half-out of the wall tinkering with wires and tools.
"Harper, may I speak with you?"
"NO, go away. I'm busy," he curtly replied.
"I can see that. This won't take but a minute and then I'll leave you to your work."
Gold Trance stepped forward and crawled over to where he sat, staring despondently at the pile of discarded broken wiring on the floor beside him. "It wouldn't hurt if you took a break now and then. I'm certain Dylan will understand that the repairs to the ship will take a little bit longer than a few days."
"I'm a engineer and a genius, I should be able to figure this out, not sit here twiddling my thumbs."
"Harper, we were friends before I, well, changed, but I need to talk to you."
"So, talk," he replied with a heavy sigh.
"Why are you avoiding me?" she asked.
"I've got work to do."
Harper shifted his position and half-heartedly pretended to lash out at the broken wiring and metal wall panels with one foot, trying to avoid meeting his old friend new golden-tinted gaze.
"That's not it, or at least that's the easy glib response.
"You could always see right through me."
"Well, yes, but you do make it difficult sometimes," Trance smiled.
"That's the problem," Harper replied.
"This avoidance, might it have anything to do with the attack on the Andromeda,? Trance asked. "It's me? It's because I've changed."
"Yeah, you could say that," Harper sighed.
"Hey, Trance, don'tt suppose you'd do me the favor of changing back, you know, back to your old self, hmm?" Harper cajoled, some of the former bounce and devil-may-care attitude back in place in the lines of his expressive face.
"Truth to tell, Seamus Zelanzy Harper. Trance smiled, this one a more genuine reminder of the old purple self. ⌠I do not even know if that is even possible at this point."
"I guess," Harper replied. "Since we're being all honest and stuff, truth is I still can't wrap my head around it. I mean, I know it's you, I mean the real you, if that sounds completely insane, but it's still not the you I know and care about."
Trance felt moisture welling up at the corners of her eyes, not certain if she should be sad at the pain one of her closest friends was obviously going through or angry, that he could not as readily accept the change as the others had. In the back of her mind, 'Why is this so difficult for him.' Aloud all she said was. "I am sorry."
"Don't be," Harper replied. "It's just that... it's hard for me to accept it.. I think I'm more angry that it came out of nowhere.I'm just going to need more time to get accustomed to the change, okay?"
"Okay," Trance replied, feeling a bit more reassure that at last one thing aboard the Andromeda was more or less back on track. As she left the Machine Shop and Harper to resume his repair work, she realized, that it would be all a matter of time, time had a way of twisting things around in their favor of their disadvantage.
She was going to have do something about that. As she strode down the corridors to get back to her garden, Trance sighed.
"I just wish I knew what that I knew what that elusive 'something' was. I think everyone around here would be much happier."
October 5, Present Day
At the Cheyenne Mountain Base the base intercom sputtered to life and all those assembled in the holding area could hear the voice of the gate room technician, Walter, announce the activation of the gate and request permission to open the iris.
"Incoming gate arrival, the id signal matches that of SG-7."
"Copy that. Permission granted to open the iris."
Cuchlain, one of the system lords. What the hell does he want?" O'Neill griped under his breath.
"Telemachus Rahde?" Trance whispered, not only astonished by his appearance but also but the costume had had affected. The last time she had seen him had been on the planet where descendants of the original High Guard officers and crew, men and women, had not only survived but thrived.
"You know this guy?" Carter asked in an undertone to Trance.
Trance shook her head to clear it of the inevitable cobwebs, suddenly wishing very much that she had no so readily agreed to switch places with her older, golden counterpart during the attack that had stranded her at the Cheyenne Mountain Base. Her memories were fuzzy and she very much wanted to back aboard the Andromeda, in her arboretum, tending her bonsai plants, the future, any and all possible futures, that had been for so long a part of very nature, were at the moment, a big gray blur.
Trance blinked and reached up and the rubbed her eye sockets with the back of her hands.
"Are you all right?" Carter asked, reaching out to hold her steady when it looked as if she were about to toppled over onto the shiny metal floor of the Gate Room.
The man in the plate armor and the bronze chess plate that appeared to Trance as resembling something out of the ancient Earth Roman gladiatorial arenas, snapped his head around to stare at here, not rudely, but in curious appraisal.
"I don not believe we have met," he remarked. His voice was a deep baritone, but with a surususs of a deeper yet distinct undertone, not hostile, but as if he had provided his own personal echo when he spoke.
"Trance, Trance Gemini. Forgive me if this rather forward of me, but I couldn'tt help noticing that you resembled someone I know."
In the back of her mind Trance could not help but make a silent tally of both how much and how little he resembled his counterpart in her home dimension. It was uncanny, and she wondered if she should be more concerned about the possible ramifications of his presence, and if not, why?
"Indeed," he replied. "I am Chuchlain."
"Okay, folks," Colonel O'Neill broke into the conversation aware without having to be told that something untoward was going on, between Trance and Cuchlian, and whatever it was, innocent or not, he had best put a stop to it. "Pleasantries aside, we've got work to do."
"Agreed. What do you want?" Hammond asked the big man.
"I want many things,■ Cuchlain rumbled, for the nonce I have come here to deliver a warning. He glanced around at the uniformed and armed soldiers that stood or knelt at attention in the Gate Room.
"Perhaps we should take this conversation to somewhere a little less noisy?"
Chuchlain did not know what to make of the purple girl, she was not a member of the SG-1, yet somehow, perhaps in a former life before the blending of his host with the alien parasite that shared both his mind and body; he had known her or someone much liker her. She appeared harmless, but in way that he could not have explained, he felt that were layers within layers of meaning behind this wide, alert and beautiful purple eyes.
Cuchlain had spent enough time in the company of SG-1 and their commanding officer to pick up a few of the quaint sayings of the species. "Greetings, Hammond, Cuchlain replied, drawing his fascinated gaze away from the young purple-skinned girl with the tail with an almost audible snap of a broken connection.
Trance was told to wait outside in the guard of an armed but kind-looking Air Force junior officer.
Meanwhile, relocated to one of the many long rooms that served as the humans conference room, Chuchlain took the seat that Hammond offered him as Hammond took the seat at the head of the table, and rest of the SG-1 team spread out among the remaining chairs.
With waiting for any prompt to begin, Chuchlain began with: "Not that long ago, if you recall, you offered your services as mediators among the various warring factions of the System Lords."
"I remember," O'Neill interrupted.
"As do I," Teal'C rumbled in agreement. "This had best not be a foolhardy attempt to cozen us into some agenda known only to you."
"A reasonable concern," the big man murmured, "And if I were in your place, I too would harbor those same concerns. Let us be candid., there is little time, and I came hear as an ally, to warn you."
"Out of the kindness of your heart," Carter muttered under her breath.
"I do not have much love for the Tauri, I though I have a great deal of respect for a species that has thus far fought and won many victories against the Gou'ald."
He paused and titled his head to one side thinking over his next remark. "You have an axiom: I believe the enemy of my enemy, is my friend.""
"That sounds about right," Doctor Daniel Jackson replied.
"Well, then, to the point. Our scientists have detected a massive buildup of energy approximately in the vicinity of the Crab Nebula."
"I'm sorry," Carter replied, interested despite her innate and well-established reservations about trusting any of the System Lords, unlike Colonel O'Neill, who believed anyone with a snake in their belly was an enemy, preferred to take a person on a case by case basis, warred with heir own scientific curiosity in the spatial phenomena. "What kind of energy?"
" It is a rare isotope, possibly temporal energy. In any case, the cause for concern is when more than several ships and their entire crew disappeared inside of the spatial tunnel created by the energy surge." The big sighed and reached up to brush away a strand of black hair that had fallen to dip across his eyes.
"Why come to us, with this information?" O'Neill asked.
"An extensive search of the area and the coordinates that those ships were on prior to their disappearance, turned up nothing but more perplexing questions."
"I am sorry for your loss." Hammond sighed, his headache was getting worse, and it certainly did not help for alien war-lords to come to him with a mystery of missing ships and crew. ⌠I don't understand what you felt it necessary to come to us."
"General, I felt it necessary, for one reason in particular," Chuculain sighed. "It is because, although none of our ships have emerged from that tunnel, other unknown and potentially hostile ships have come through, from the other side, of wherever it is that tunnel through space leads."
"An attack?"
"That was my estimate, yes," the big man nodded somberly.
"I think it's definitely worth checking out," Carter said.
Encounter and fight scene O'Neill had taken out the captured Gou'ald Death Glider up and out to the designated coordinates indicated on his onboard computer monitor. By this time he was not at all certain what he would find once he got there. Chuchlain was a pragmatic, ruthless, and at times annoying as hell man to deal with, but if nothing else could be said about him; he was no fool.
If he truly thought this particular tunnel through space presented a danger, he would not have come all the way to the Earth to warn them.
Jack leveled and reduced speed, making a check once more that two-way communication link between his ship and his team that he had left back on the planet PSX-1323 worked.
Looking up to glace out his view screen, it was as if someone had taken a huge hand over a blanket of ice-white stars painted on a canvas of inky black velvet and flattened with the palm of a huge hand. As a backdrop to the usual grand vista of space was a fleet, a fleet of warships if his experienced eye was a reliable gauge.
He saw at least a dozen starships whose configuration did not match up with anything in either the SG command database or the on-again, off-again allies, the Tok'ra.
The ships looked liked nothing so much as big, bulky freighters, only freighters bristling with weapons ports and sensors, and running lights. Jack O'Neill took a deep breath, and then said: "Carter, you read me?" O'Neill said into this communication pickup.
"Copy that, Sir." Carter's reply came through slightly muffled by the distance, but understandable.
"We've got a problem."
"Define the nature of the problem," Carter briskly replied.
"There is half a dozen starships up here, armed to the teeth, and they do not match anything encountered so far.
I hope this is Thor's wacky idea of a practical joke. If it is, I forgot to laugh."
Carter gasped. "That would definitely qualify as a problem. Any idea whose they are?"
"None, and they don't look friendly. Wonder if old Chulclain was keeping back more than he knew?" O'Neill added,". I'm heading back,
On board the flagship of one of those unidentified ships, a big man, wearing a metal harness that served as armor stood with his legs braced on the deck of his bridge, gazing out of the unfamiliar yet eerily familiar vista of the Crab Nebula. It had a long time since he had gazed on it, and it held his attention.
Antony Paulinus was Nitezchean, a race born and bred to be conquerors, to rule, and if it came to it, to become the dominant species. Three hundred years ago in his own timeline, he and his crew had nearly won the Battle of Witch Head and had succeeded in toppling the larges and most powerful confederation of worlds and planets their universe had ever known, the Systems Commonwealth.
"That was fated, that was meant to be." He murmured under his breath, where his crew could not overhear him.
"If it had not been for the cursed accident, crippling his ship and leaving it stranded on the event horizon of a black dwarf star. ⌠Fate or something else had chosen to intervene, releasing his half a dozen ships, and his crew from their interminable prison and into this brave new world, to borrow a time-honored clichИ from Old Earth.
"Seems a shame to throw the gift of providence back in its face, no?" Antony remarked to his first officer.
"Indeed, Sir," the young man replied. "Let us see what is out there."
Continued in chapter 5: Snake Oil