Crossovers include: Stargate SG-1/Atlantis (inc. Unas), Mass Effect, Star Trek (galactic barrier, Totality), Assassin's Creed (several characters)
-= 37 million years ago =-
Alarms set off all across the city. People scrambled to safety, though each of them knew it wouldn't help. When the Reapers set their sights on worlds like Novi Celestis, not even an advanced metropolis like R'lyeh was safe. Luckily, though, they were prepared this time. When they first arrived in the Milky Way, they hadn't been.
Such memories would normally disturb the old scientist now sitting in his lab going over the designs of his latest invention. But not this time.
A number of Ancients had worked together to disable the mass relays without destroying them outright. They hardly needed them, what with their hyperspace drives and stargates. But they didn't destroy them. Instead, the brilliant scientists and physicists of the Ancients' civilization turned them into weapons that would tear ships apart when used. Curiously, although the Reapers eventually stopped using them during this cycle, they too left the newly remade 'space guns' intact. Perhaps they planned to use them again in the future?
Either way, the Council decided it was time to implement the first city-ships in each and every colony they had. Even with the Reapers' harvesting cycle being severely delayed without use of the relays, they would still swarm over the galaxy bit by bit. At least this way, they had a chance. City-ships could carry most of a city's population into space and, soon after, hyperspace. Lucky for them, the Reapers had yet to figure out hyper drive technology.
It wasn't as if those demons from beyond the galactic barrier hadn't tried. Hyperdrives could be reverse engineered, but they were impossible to assimilate. When it wasn't the Ancients who destroyed their own ships prior to Reaper attack, it was the instability of the tech when merged with the Reapers. Ancients themselves proved resistant to indoctrination due, perhaps, to their powerful minds. Even the creatures the Reapers first assimilated, leviathans in their own right, could hardly exert control over these visitors from another galaxy.
But the Ancients weren't trying to build an empire. They merely wanted to settle and observe; to learn and make science their only concern. Funny how a race such as theirs could be so close to something as mystical as ascension, yet even the mysteries of that were coming unraveled. That's why they decided to build a weapon capable of either destroying or controlling the Reapers... or doing something else entirely. They called it the Crucible.
Although they wouldn't get anywhere close to finishing it by the time they left the Milky Way, the Ancients used everything they knew to build the first stage among countless more. Ascension would be its key ingredient. With one body forcefully ascended and contained within the structure, the beam could be powered from the omega continuum... if not the station constructed around it. From there, it could release a charge that would either destroy, control, or 'synthesize' the organic and cybernetic components of the Reapers and others. The process couldn't be fully controlled, and the inability to focus it on the Reapers alone led the Council to abandon the project, while only one continued to work on it.
Jupiter thought it ridiculous. He designed the initial stages of the Crucible - poured his life and soul into its design. When the Council made its decision, he reminded them of how they shut down a similar project of his ancestor, Amelius. "If we had just used his Ark of Truth, we'd not be here risking our lives fighting an enemy no different than the Ori!" He'd been rebuked, and the Council voted to have him removed from their deliberation, along with any other dissenting opinion. Once their mind had been made up, there was no changing it. Consensus meant everything to the Ancients. But it didn't mean everything to him.
"You have to understand," Councilwoman Minerva tried to reason with him later, as he sat behind his console on Atlantis, where an image of his designs had been brought up on the display in front of him. "We can't risk becoming like the Ori. The chance this Crucible of yours might corrupt us as much as the discovery of omega corrupted them is too great."
"A discovery which they failed to share with us," Jupiter added bitterly. It wasn't enough that the Ori kept the secret of their power even from some of their own who helped in the rebellion against the Alterans, but the fact they didn't even make it common knowledge to all of them made so many stand by the side of 'science'... when, in fact, it was merely their pride they'd been so concerned about. "I know what you're trying to say, Minerva," he admitted with a glance in her direction. "But even with your new city-ships, I doubt we can last forever against this Reaper swarm."
Minerva considered that a moment, then finally sat down somewhere nearby. Jupiter merely gazed up at his creation, fearing he'd never see it in person. "Is that what's really disturbing you?" She questioned, always the acute observer of her fellow Ancients' behavior. "Or is it the fact this is the third time you've been rejected a seat in the Science Ministry?"
"You know me too well," Jupiter practically growled as he looked down at the console beneath his hands. Over the years, the ministry refused to give him the resources needed to complete several of his most controversial projects. Among them, he wanted to see if he could accelerate the process of ascension. They voted that it would be too dangerous and decided not to make the recommendation to the Council. "They're fools. All of them."
"Why?" Minerva asked rhetorically. "Is it because they reject change? Or because they reject you?" When Jupiter shot a glare at her, she stayed resolute; her expression stoic and unfazed. "Your experiments could cost the lives of hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of our people. They could prevent the rise or evolution of another. Like your ancestor, you've failed to consider the wider impact of your decisions."
"Casualties are to be expected," Jupiter insisted with a scowl. "But don't think I wouldn't mourn their loss. Remember, I lost family to those... those things beyond the outer rim. So did the others. That doesn't mean I'm willing to let their sacrifices mean nothing!" With a huff, he turned back to his console and brought up a new set of schematics for a different invention. This one happened to be a network of satellites surrounding worlds marked as Ancient colonies, each connected via a signal that could be sent through the mass relays to activate them in tandem. The end result, so he hoped, would be the absolute ascension of every living Ancient throughout their galaxy. Another project they rejected in the end.
"If we do nothing, they would have died senseless deaths without any meaning." He barely gave a glance to his fellow Ancient. All he could see behind the schematic were memories of all those people the Reapers killed in the last cycle. But that's what these devices were based on. After the last attack, he and several scientists gathered a collection of Reaper nanites and determined they could be reprogrammed to force ascension in those bodies they infected, though only if the mind hadn't been destroyed by the nanites first. Due to how many had already been killed by those nanites, the Council didn't want to take any chances using them for any reason.
"Listen to yourself," Minerva nearly whispered in pity. "You've become obsessed with this. Such obsession is what led the Ori down their path." Finally, she stood and walked over to him, putting both her hands on his shoulder before she pleaded in a measured tone, "Don't do this, father. You've got a family to look after. There are people here who care about you." With a smile and a soft chuckle, she noted, "Your student seems taken by you."
"Juno?" Jupiter almost laughed, but in a more dismissive way. Part of him didn't even want to talk about such trivial things right now, but he knew his daughter wouldn't leave it alone. "She reminds me a little too much of your sister." Despite being a difficult subject to talk about, especially given how Venus decided to leave Atlantis to uncover some old ruins on a world near Terra instead of marry and have a family like he urged her to, Jupiter mentioned her anyway. "Besides, I'm not too fond of women who give no thought to the future."
"You've got to forgive her some day." Minerva sighed and reached out to put a small hand on top of his, causing him to stop typing and look her in the eye. "Do you remember what you told me?" Of course he did, so there was no point in saying it. He convinced her to do the same he'd been urging Venus to do. "It's time you stop living in the past. Start thinking about your future. Because we've waited long enough... and you're not getting any younger."
Despite being advanced in age, having just reached the daunting six digits mark, Jupiter didn't want to admit it. Instead, he buried himself in his work and tried to ignore the passage of time. Ascension being his goal, he seemingly cared little for anything - or anyone - else. Yet that would've been a gross misunderstanding of his character. He wanted to see everyone live in a world without suffering or pain. But the way he went about searching for answers made others think of him as an anti-social hermit. Even his own daughter thought he should be out there meeting people, making bonds that would last.
"Perhaps you're right," Jupiter wondered aloud. Then his brow creased as he gazed at her. "But how many people would have to be sacrificed for my own happiness? For yours? Hundreds of thousands? A million?" When Minerva looked speechless and frozen by apprehension, he continued to speak while looking at his console. "It goes both ways, Minerva. Either I stay here and sacrifice my future and a few volunteers for the benefit of all... or I try to start my life anew and let those creatures continue to kill us unchallenged."
Then Jupiter gave her the sternest, most stubborn expression he could manage. "Either way, we all die or ascend. Which will it be?"
Minerva pursed her lips and matched his expression, but he'd merely turned back to his work without so much as another word. She could see he wouldn't be convinced anytime soon. Once his mind was set, he'd see it through to the end. But he made a good point, even though she'd continue to stand by her own recommendation. However she felt about what he did, one thing was clear. He was still a good man at heart, and he truly cared for others.
She only wished one day he could prove it.
The darkness swept across the universe like a plague. Everything it touched disappeared, the very matter which completed it whisked away into non-existence. It was a fate more cruel than death, for at least in death, one could be certain those deceased had existed. But those worlds lost to the expanding void could only disappear with a whisper, a sound one could easily dismiss as having gone unheard in the first place. In death, at least, something would be left behind, even if only a sense of their accomplishments.
Look up at the stars. Now cast your eyes at what lies between them. Beyond even that, beyond the boundaries of the galaxy itself, you'll find your answer. There's nothing but an empty void between our galaxies. It wasn't always like that. At one time, there were no galaxies... only the stars and nebulae side-by-side, no uncharted expanse between us.
Then a being, perhaps a Force of some kind, emerged from another we call the Route of Ages. Within that realm, the mind of a being called the Spirit of the Abyss dreamed to return everything to the void which existed before the dawn of the universe.
The shadows between our galaxies are the tendrils it reached out with. World upon world fade away as its arms embrace them. We call these limbs of the Abyss "the Totality", for now it covers much of the universe itself. But why are we not threatened? In truth, every day is spent in fear that the Totality will reach us and erase all that we've accomplished.
They say to increase knowledge is to increase suffering, for if we had never known of its existence, perhaps we could live blissfully unaware. Yet that wouldn't stop this Force from taking everything we love and cherish. There will always be a need for people like us, who know the truth and will do something about it.
That's why I ask you, child, to look at the stars again, and know this: the stars are more than they appear. They live as we do. They have consciousness. Perhaps they have a greater understanding of the universe that we lack. But, mark my words, they are alive. Long ago, they fought the Totality and saw much of their kind carried off into nothingness. Then they realized they had a power within them.
It wasn't the Force, but perhaps it could be even greater. They had the power of belief. In their ascended forms, they could focus their collective thoughts and control fate itself. With this power, they forged the great barrier that surrounds our galaxy, and many others. The Totality couldn't hope to break through, and our lives could begin.
Remember one thing, my Padawan: nothing is infinite, not even the Force. Where the barrier stands strong, it can be broken with time. And that is all we live on. Borrowed time. The day that will no longer be the case is the day we can reach the Route of Ages and cut down the beast from within. If anyone can find a way to combat the Totality itself, it will be us, for we face it every day in our struggle with the dark side. The shadow corrupts that Force which binds us, but one day, we can take the first step to undoing its effects.
Then, when we stand with the combined forces of all the galaxies and all the universes to face the devil in its lair, we will truly be free.
- Letter to the Padawan, by the Jedi Master (36,653 BBY)