Chapter 1

Humanity Under Fire

***Milky Way Galaxy (Local Spur Arm)***

**P3X-727 (Orbit)**

*USS Odyssey (Bridge)*

The USS Odyssey, the second ship in the BC-304 line and sister-ship to the Daedalus, sat in geosynchronous orbit of the planet designated P3X-727. The planet had been referenced in the Ancient Database on Atlantis as a scientific outpost belonging to a race that no one, not even Doctor Jackson, could translate the name of. Doctor Rodney McKay had stumbled across it while searching for references to the Ancient's war against the Ori in the hopes of gaining some useful Intel on the ascended race. While the database entry didn't say much, which was becoming more and more the expected standard these days, Rodney had assured the SGC that it did mention a 'source of incredible power.' That had gotten General O'Neill's attention and gleeful approval for the mission.

However, due to the lack of a Stargate on the planet in question, and, indeed, an astonishing lack of Gates in this part of the galaxy, the Odyssey had been ordered to taxi SG-1 over to the planet to investigate after having picked up another stranded SG team, and so the crew of the Battlecruiser sat 'twiddling their thumbs,' as crews in these situations had taken to calling the standard checkups they performed during their down time, waiting for SG-1 to finish with their mission.

With the ascended Ori presumed dead but more of their ships and followers making a harder push through the Milky Way Galaxy, the search for more advanced technologies to fight off their rapid domination of both the Free Jaffa Nation and Ba'al's Empire was becoming ever more crucial as everyone knew that Earth would be their next target. As these thoughts crossed his mind, Colonel Ian Davidson, Commanding Officer of the USS Odyssey, looked over to Major Marks, his Navigator and Executive Officer. Marks is considered the best navigator in Earth's admittedly small fleet; a fact proven by the constant infighting between commanders for his next station to be on their ship.

"Major, how long do we have until our next scheduled check-in with the SGC?" Davidson asked.

Looking at the ship's clock, which was set to match both SGC and local time, Marks replied, "Five minutes, sir."

Hitting the comms button on his chair, Davidson said, "Odyssey to SG-1, we have five minutes before our next check-in. What's your status?"

**P3X-727 (Surface)**

*Underground Complex (Secondary Control Room)*

"Daniel, how are the translations coming?" Lieutenant-Colonel Cameron Mitchell asked.

"Slowly, but I should be done recording the symbols inside four minutes," Daniel replied as he slowly ran his camera up and down the walls of the bunker. The strange writing found there was both unknown to the people looking at it, yet… oddly familiar in a strange way.

"Sam, how's the download coming?" Cam asked as he turned to the woman with the same rank as his own.

"I'm finally through the first firewall, so it should only take a couple more minutes to finish," she said with emphasis on the 'finally' part. It had taken five-and-a-half hours to break through the alien's security protocols and antivirus software.

"Copy that, Colonel. Make your way to the rings when you're ready," Davidson replied.

"You got it, Colonel," Mitchell replied before turning to Sam and adding, "I'm sensing a 'but' in there."

Sam did that thing where she made that face that said more than her words could, then looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm through the firewall, but only the first layer. I have access to generalized information on low clearance subjects and basic life-support controls for this area of the bunker. All that it's really good for is learning their programming so that I can gain a snowball's chance in Hell of cracking the higher level firewalls." Sam shook her head as she moved back to the consul. "This code is changing, adapting, dare I even say it's evolving…" Sam trailed off when Mitchell raised an eye at her. "It's learning me faster than I can learn it!" Sam said in a frustrated tone.

"Okay…" Cameron said uncertainly. "I'll go get Teal'c," he added as he walked out of the small sub-control room and into one of the cavernous metal hallways that the massive underground complex was composed of. 'Metal as far as the eye can see,' Cam thought to himself as the hallway stretched on for what seemed to be the whole length of the planet.

Teal'c was standing by the 'entrance,' which was really just one of a hundred-or-so ring rooms located throughout the bunker, 'keeping an eye out for any unwanted visitors,' as he put it, but Cameron knew he was trying to get some alone time. Teal'c had been back and forth between the Free Jaffa Council and Earth for the past three weeks and was starting to get tired, though the Jaffa warrior would never admit it. The Free Jaffa Nation kept pushing for the Tau'ri to open negotiations for trading weapons technology. The only problem was that the Jaffa wanted to get their hands on the Asgard designed shields being utilized by the 304s, but refused to trade their plasma cannon designs in return. They kept offering an Al'kesh's cloaking device as 'fair payment,' ignoring, and even dismissing, Earth's claim to already have cloaking technology of their own.

Walking up behind his friend, being careful to make noise so that Teal'c would know he was coming long before he ever arrived, Cameron said, "Hey, Teal'c, we're leaving in about," with a quick look at his watch he said, "four minutes."

Without a word, Teal'c stood up from his place sitting on the cold metal floor, grabbed his oxygen mask, and followed Mitchell back to the main room. The masks had been needed for the first five hours of Sam's battle with the computers, and, after having circulated for over an hour, the air was still stale and smelt of dust as old as the Human race itself.

The duo reached the sub-control room and Cam was just about to ask how things were going when Sam swore at the computer and angrily stomped away from the offender. Judging by the look in her eyes, she was trying not to put a bullet through the only working terminal in the bunker that they had access to.

"Problem?" Cameron dared to ask.

"I'm locked out again!" Sam replied as she furiously paced around the room before returning to the consul. "I was trying to access more data and the computer changed the access codes and the format. THE FORMAT! I've never seen a computer that can do this! Even Atlantis will give a Human without the ATA gene unlimited access to its files once someone with the gene unlocks it and the Atlantis Database is the most advanced computer I've ever seen! This thing is mocking me!" Sam shouted up at the ceiling.

"Sam, I think you're losing it," Cam said in a very concerned tone.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Daniel countered in a tone far too casual for the occasion as he continued to record the symbols that were written all over the walls in what, honestly, looked like chalk. "I'm starting to get a basic idea of what the writing's for, but I'm not able to fully decipher it."

"Oh, do fill us in," Vala said in a mocking tone as she laid on the ground, her back flat against the cold metal and her legs propped up against the wall so that her body formed an 'L.' She had her Kevlar vest folded up as a pillow under her head and a phone in her hand playing what looked to be the Candy Crush Saga.

Daniel rolled his eyes at her tone, but started explaining anyway. "It's math," he said while waving around at the walls. "This room… it's not a control room, it's a lab. Whoever it is that used it was fond of writing things down…"

"Sounds like they'd get along great with Rush," Cam said jokingly.

"He may be a little… eccentric, but he's a very smart man," Sam piped in.

"Can we focus here?" Daniel asked.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Sorry," Sam and Cam both said in unison.

"This," Daniel said as he gestured around the room again, "was written by someone that makes Sam look like Einstein."

"So they're the ramblings of an idiot?" Sam asked in a dead-serious tone. "What?" she asked when Daniel gave her a weird look. "Einstein was a genius, I'm just smart."

"Oookkkaaayyy…" Daniel said before rethinking his explanation. "Whoever did this makes Sam look like Vala."

"Hey!" Vala protested.

"That comparison makes more sense, but how could Sam ever look that stupid?" Cam asked with a chuckle.

"Because she's never created a computer program with the capacity for self-modification and artificial awareness," Daniel answered at a deadpan.

"What?" Cam asked, clearly confused.

"You mean an AI?!" Sam exclaimed in utter disbelief.

"If not, it's the closest thing I've seen to one," Daniel replied, "but the formula is incomplete. It's possible that there's more written down somewhere else, and I'm certainly no expert on this subject, but the math looks… wrong to me. Sam couldn't figure it out either."

"I couldn't?" Sam asked. "I don't remember trying."

"Two hours ago I asked you to do a problem for me," Daniel replied as he dug out the paper again. "You said there were missing variables in the problem I gave you and that you couldn't figure it out."

Sam looked over the paper again and went through the very obvious motion of stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "Missing variables and the constants don't even make sense. Where did you get one-point-two-two from? Last time I checked, that was a constant used in ultrasonic equations."

"The writing on the wall," Daniel replied with a shrug. "Where the creator got it from, I have not the slightest clue."

"So," Sam said as she turned back to the computer consul, "an AI huh? That explains a lot."

**P3X-727 (Orbit)**

*USS Odyssey (Cargo Hold Nine)*

"I hate you fucking Humans so much right now!" Jack swore venomously as she stalked back into the room that the Zetas had commandeered. The small cargo room was empty when they found it and now hosted eight cots and a wall covered in weapons and armor, most of which were being tailored to by their weapons expert.

"What happened this time?" Oliver asked with an annoyed sigh, his eyes not rising to meet hers.

"Two days aboard this ship and I'm ready to start killing people at random!" Jack said before punching the wall closest to her. The flash of blue that rippled across her body upon impact saved her fingers from breaking just as surely as it had saved them all from being vaporized by an exploding Stargate.

"At least you're looking healthier," Oliver replied calmly, still not looking up.

"They feed me shit, but at least it's better than just drinking liquid energy," Jack gripped as she threw herself down on her bunk with a huff.

"You really need to get a hobby," Oliver observed, the entire conversation going on without him looking up from the sketch pad in his lap.

"Ain't that the truth," Jesse snarked from where he was taking apart Oliver's broken assault rifle and trying to get the weapon to work again. As much as Oliver was trained with the bow as his first weapon, he preferred a gun when fighting aliens with plasma weapons. If only he hadn't of used his gun to block a plasma round from hitting his face, he'd still have a working assault rifle.

"Fuck you, Jesse," Jack snapped.

"That would be against regulations," Jesse replied calmly before swearing quietly.

"What's the damage?" Oliver asked.

"It's totaled," Jesse replied. "The heat-sink's gone, the firing rail's been melted into the frame, and the ammo block is fused into place."

"Better the gun than my face," Oliver replied, once again without looking up. Jesse huffed sarcastically in reply before he started stripping the rifle for spare parts.

"What are you drawing anyway?" Jack asked in a far more constrained tone.

"Nothing," Oliver replied in a distant tone.

Jack's response to that was to get up and move onto the bed beside him. "A naked man? There something you're not telling me, Oliver?"

With a sigh of frustration, Oliver shook his head. "He's not naked, I just haven't drawn his body yet," Oliver countered as he kept moving his pencil in graceful motions. One fiber of hair at a time, the man's head was coming into focus as if Oliver was scratching away the paper to reveal something that had been there all along. "And he's not the kind of person you'd want to draw naked anyway."

"Oh? Looks like the type of person I'd like to see naked," Jack snarked.

With another annoyed sigh, Oliver said, "It's my brother, Jack. Don't insult him."

"Why are you drawing your brother naked?" Jack asked.

"Not naked, just lacking a body," Oliver countered again. "And to answer your question, it's a dream," Oliver said, his tones even more distant now than they were before. "I can't get it out of my head, so I'm putting it down on paper," Oliver explained as he started moving his pencil in a new area of the paper, the face done so the body becoming his focus.

As he did, Jack looked at the image captured in Oliver's head then brought into the material world by his hands. She would never admit it, but she envied artistic people. She was older than everyone on this ship, and yet she'd never done anything but kill.

Jack shook the thought from her head and looked at the picture again. The man on the paper looked like Oliver, but obviously wasn't. His face was too ragged, his hair too short, his eyes, despite the whole thing being drawn in varying shades of gray, too dark. If Jack was to guess, this was his brother and the man in question had brown eyes instead of green like Oliver's.

"What happens in the dream?" Jack asked, her tones genuinely curious and not mocking for the first time in weeks.

Oliver's hand finally stopped halfway through the process of materializing a chest covered by a shirt. He looked up at her, eyes hollow. "I never knew my brother," Oliver said. "I was taken from my family when I was young and raised… somewhere else. My father?" Oliver asked. "I know he died defending me, but I can't remember anything else about him. My mother? Not even the slightest inkling what her name is. But my brother? I found him in a cave, a prisoner of war, tortured and on the verge of death. We'd been separated for more than twenty years, and he knew me just by looking into my eyes. I finally found my brother, and he died in my arms not even an hour later."

"I imagine that didn't end well," Jack said with a sadistic smile.

"That's an understatement," Jesse commented from his place still taking Oliver's now useless rifle apart. "I still have nightmares about that day."

"You were there?" Jack asked

"I wish I wasn't," Jesse replied, a distant look in his own eyes.

Then an alarm sounded throughout the ship as the lights dimmed and the Battlecruiser went into a state of power conservation, every last volt of energy that could be spared being fed into the shields. A split second later, Marks' voice announced, "Two contacts just dropped out of hyperspace. Ori Motherships, bearing down off the port bow."

"Looks like they found us," Oliver said grimly.

**P3X-727 (Surface)**

*Underground Complex (Auxiliary Lab)*

"Odyssey to SG-1," Marks's voice came over the radio.

"We read you, Major, what's the problem?" Cam asked, noting the panic in Marks' voice.

"We've got two Ori Motherships entering weapons range. We're maintaining orbit to engage so that the rings will connect. I've been ordered to bring you back up to the ship."

With a deep rumble and a violent shake that threw the members of SG-1 to the ground, an alarm in the complex started going off. "What the hell was that?" Cam asked as he picked himself up off of the floor and shook the ringing out of his ears.

"One of the Ori Motherships is attacking the planet. Colonel, get your asses back up here now!" Davidson's voice ordered over the radio.

"Sir, we've got a problem," Sam said as she frantically tried to override the automated systems. "That shot locked out the ring platforms."

"Then we'll find the next set and…" Mitchell began before he realized Sam was shaking her head. "What's wrong this time?"

"The lockout was initiated across the entire bunker. Even the external doors are now sealed so we can't use the Tok'ra tunneling crystals to reach the surface to beam out either," Sam replied.

"Sam, I'm picking up a massive power spike coming from your location. It looks like the bunker's shields are coming online," Marks said as the sounds of combat were picked up and carried across the open comms channel. From the sound of things, the Odyssey was, as usual, taking a beating.

"I can't do this!" Sam exclaimed in defeat. "The system's too advanced and I can't keep up with the… hold on…"

**P3X-727 (Orbit)**

*USS Odyssey (Bridge)*

The Odyssey sat in orbit exchanging fire with one of the Ori Motherships. Already the battle was working against their favor. One of the ships started attacking SG-1's position and, judging by the last transmission, had trapped them on the planet, or, rather, under it. Either way it was bad, and, just to make matters worse, the remaining Ori vessel had the Odyssey at a tactical disadvantage. The Odyssey's only saving grace in all of her encounters with the Ori was her maneuverability, but in this encounter she was confined to orbit until SG-1 was back onboard and her shields weren't going to hold out for forever, ZPM-enhanced or not.

The Odyssey unloaded all of her railgun cannons into the much larger vessel bearing down on her, but all that firepower was virtually useless against the superior shields of the Ori Mothership. Beam after beam of the Mothership's main weapon slammed into the shield of the drastically smaller Earth vessel until, after a particularly nasty impact, an alarm began to blare and Marks shouted above the barely controlled chaos, "That last hit caused an overload in one of the port-side shield capacitors."

"What does that mean?" Davidson asked, a slight hint of panic slipping into his tone.

"The shields are holding, but less power is making it out to the barrier," Marks replied. "The shield is losing more power than the ship can put out," he amended when Davidson made a noise of confusion. "Picture it as having leaky pipes and not enough water pressure," he offered in explanation at his commanding officer's persisting look of confusion.

"Turn us around and divert all the power to the starboard capacitors. We have to hold on long enough to get SG-1 out of there. We're not leaving them behind," Davidson ordered. "Colonel Carter, we lost this battle the moment the Ori showed up. The only thing left to determine is whether or not we make it out alive! What's your status?"

"The power for the shields and the power for the jammer are coming from the same source, and that's one thing I can alter."

"What the hell are you doing?" Cam asked as the bunker shook more violently around them, the sounds overloading electronics reaching the people in orbit through the radio channel.

"Bringing more systems online than an aging generator can handle without a proper warm-up," Sam replied in a tone of rage mixed with righteous vengeance.

"Won't that weaken the shield?" Marks asked in a tone of concern as he looked at his terminal and noted that the planet was still being bombarded by the other Mothership.

"That would be the plan, Major. Once the system detects a threat to its integrity it should… Yes! That's it, I got the jamming device offline. Beam us up before the system corrects itself!"

Marks didn't hesitate even for a second. In a flash of light the members of SG-1 appeared in the Odyssey's armory, completely unharmed, and stored their gear. The moment he got the all clear, Davidson ordered, "Marks, get us the hell out of here!"

As the Ori Mothership turned to follow the Odyssey, the smaller ship's engines flared to life and Marks began to dodge and weave. Orange beams of lethal energy came within inches of impacting the ship only for the Odyssey to nimbly slip away. While the lesser weapons of the Ori Mothership proved capable of striking the small ship, they had significantly less force and were easily handled by the advanced shield. It was just a matter of buying time so that Marks could fire the hyperdrive and jump them into hyperspace leaving the two larger crafts alone in the void of space surrounding P3X-727.

As the Odyssey flew through the 'tunnel' that is its FTL, Marks reported, "Sir, we took some damage before we could jump out."

"Status report," Davidson ordered in a calm but concerned tone.

"The shields are recharging, but we still need to replace portside capacitor Ten-A. Sub-light engines are unaffected; hyperdrive is unaffected; life-support is unaffected; subspace communications are down. Sensors took some concerning damage. Not only are they not operating at one-hundred percent efficiency, one of the relays suffered an overload from the shield capacitor burning out and the range is now reduced to forty-five percent. My main concern is that the inertial dampeners are failing. If we don't drop out before they fail completely, we'll be squished flatter than a sheet of paper by the force our acceleration."

"Drop us out of hyperspace and begin repairs," Davidson ordered in a beaten tone. As the ship lurched unusually violently from the combined forces of the rapid deceleration and weakened dampening field, Davidson added, "Colonel Carter, with the Ori on our tail we'll need the dampeners and shields the most, so I want you to personally oversee the repair of those systems." As he finished giving the order, Sam, who had just walked onto the Bridge, nodded to her superior and motioned for Marks to join her.

***Milky Way Galaxy (Local Spur Arm)***

**Dead Space (Location Unknown)**

*USS Odyssey (Corridors) [an hour hater]*

"The capacitor was easy enough to fix. We keep spares handy so it was just a quick replacement and some simple rewiring. The shields are back up to full power on both sides with no notable complications. Subspace sensors are giving us some trouble. We've re-established approximately seventy percent of the range but we're only getting piss-poor resolution and there's a couple of blind spots that I can't fix without finding out what's causing them. Communications are likewise giving us problems. They're back up to about sixty percent max range and the connection will be filled with static at best and inaudible at worst. Despite all that, however, the most pressing problem is the dampeners. We don't keep spares for that system because nobody ever figured this could happen given the overabundance of redundancies in the system design…" Carter explained as she and Davidson walked through the halls of the ship.

"Breathe, Colonel, you're talking too fast," Davidson interrupted her.

"Sorry, sir," Carter apologized as she realized she had, indeed, given the entire report on one lung-full. "In simple terms, we never imagined this could happen so we don't carry spares, and, as a result, we're having trouble fixing the dampeners because we're lacking supplies. We've even tried cannibalizing some of the minor systems, but none of them have the crystals we need."

"I want you, personally, to keep working on the dampeners. We need to get back to Earth for full repairs," Davidson said. "Have someone else look at the sensors while you're busy. You've got a team of engineers onboard, Colonel. They get paid whether you use them or not, so go ahead and use them so they can earn their pay."

"Yes, sir," Carter said with a small smile. It was a running joke between her and Davidson that Sam tended to bite off more than she could chew. He knew better than most given that he had been an uncle of sorts growing up seeing as how the Colonel knew her father.

"We'll be fine, Sam, just take a deep breath and let people help you. You're never alone, always remember that," Ian said as he clasped her shoulder comfortingly.

"Thank you, sir," Sam replied before turning to leave. Davidson was heading to the Bridge, but she needed to be in Engineering. He stopped her with a word.

"Sam."

"Sir?" Sam asked as she turned back to him.

"Breathe," Ian said as he purposefully over exaggerated his own breathing.

"I'll do my best, sir," Sam replied with a half-smile and a
nod.

After Sam walked away to follow his orders, Davidson continued on his way to the Bridge to relax in his chair. He figured he would get off of his feet for a few moments while still being somewhere he could easily be found should he be needed. He could've gone to his personal quarters, but he liked reports to be delivered in person, hence the reason he had walked the halls with Sam. Sometimes information was lost over comms, or simply left out because piercing eyes weren't prying into your soul, forcing you to be truthful and unforgetful.

However, the Bridge did not offer the peace he was looking for, though he would later question how he had ever thought that the Bridge of a warship could ever offer its Commanding Officer peace. As soon as he walked in and sat down, Marks' screen started beeping.

"Sir, sensors are detecting a massive number of nuclear detonations," the young Major reported as he adjusted his controls in an effort to get a better reading.

"Where?" was Davidson's simple reply. He was sitting in his chair, eyes closed, head leaned back, hand on his nose applying pressure to ever so slightly relieve his rapidly growing migraine.

"The planets in the systems nearest our current location," Marks reported. "We've already detected over a hundred separate detonations on twelve planets, and the nukes are still flying."

Hitting the ship-wide-comms, Davidson said, "Carter, I really need that hyperdrive online," in a tired tone.

"I'm on it, sir," was heard from the back of the Bridge where Sam had gone to consult with one of the other engineers.

***Milky Way Galaxy (Local Spur Arm)***

**Cyrannus Sector (Dead Space)**

*Battlestar Galactica (Combat Information Center)*

The Battlestar Galactica drifted silently through the void of space. The once powerful and deadly warship was being decommissioned and turned into a museum, or, at least, it was supposed to be. The communication that had just come through the ship's Combat Information Center had changed all that.

The Colonies of Kobol were under attack by the Cylons, the Children of Humanity. In a move that reeked of cowardice, all twelve of their once proud worlds had been nuked from orbit by the Cylons in a surprise attack that no one saw coming. Then again, that was the purpose of a surprise attack. With the shipyards in orbit suffering the same fate as the worlds above which they once orbited, there was no hope of rebuilding the Colonials' lost forces, no hope for fighting back, no hope for rebuilding, no hope for survival as now only a handful of ships were left fighting a war they didn't have the forces left to win, yet could not afford to lose.

The Galactica wasn't one of those ships. She couldn't be. She had no munitions for her guns, no ammo for her cannons, and no missiles to launch at the enemy. So, instead, she drifted through space trying to figure out what was happening to her homeworlds. William Adama, the ageing Commander of the ageing Battlestar, found himself constantly wishing that his ship still had her ammo stocks, but no amount of wishing could change what was happening. In a matter of minutes, the robotic abominations his people should never have created to begin with had reduced the billions of people of their proud race into a few tens-of-thousands running for their lives on a handful of unarmed, civilian ships. There were only a few ships in the fleet that had any type of arment worth mentioning, and Galactica, despite being the biggest and most lethal, was still without ammunition.

They had no real idea on where to head, nor did they think they had anywhere to go. The only thing guiding them was the sacred religious scrolls that might not even be based on facts. Needless to say, Commander Adama wasn't convinced this so-called 'Thirteenth Colony' was really out there, nor was he in anyway convinced that, should it exist, they would be able to find it, but hope, even a fool's hope, was better than nothing.