Bridge, USS Thors Hammer

En Route to New Atlantis

Captain Toma Nikolaeva, a 5'9 tall woman with red hair tied in a bun, she didn't wear her berat, but she had her captain's pips on her collar, making her way towards the bridge of the Thor's Hammer alonside her executive officer, Commander Alexei Leonov, a medium built man with black hair about 6 foot tall. He has the face a male model with a sqaure jaw and piercing brown eyes. They could of taken the transporter, beam directly to the bridge to meet with Captain Lorne, but she they took a long walk instead. She needed the exercise after 10 hour long trip in hyperspace to the enemy territory at the outer edge of the Pegasus Galaxy.

The crew of the Hammer stood aside to a respectful distance as Captain Toma Nikolaeva and Commander Alexei Leonov approached. Captain Evan Lorne, a man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, turned to face them. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Captain Lorne and Captain Nikolaeva are married, which made the moment between them more charged. They had been through so much together, both personally and professionally. They shared a bond that went beyond mere friendship or camaraderie. It was a deep, abiding love that sustained them in the face of danger and adversity.

Nikolaeva and Leonov stood to attention and salutes as they approached Captain Evan Lorne, he was reviewing the status of the Chekov on a gauntlet holographic display, the damage to the ship is astounding as he nods his head. Right now, his focus is transporting the Chekov to New Atlantis.

Captain Toma Nikolaeva cleared her throat, breaking the silence between them, "Evan, we appreciate your assistance in retrieving the bodies of our crew. Thank you." Her voice was strong and steady, but there was a hint of emotion behind it.

Evan looked at his wife with a soft expression that made Toma fell in love with him all over again. "It was the least we could do, Captain." He said, since they are on duty, they have to use each other's rank. He glance at Leonov who is trying to keep a straight face. "What is it Commander?"

"Sir, we all know you two are married, why the formalities?" Commander Alexei Leonov asked with a smirk. There was a glint of amusement in his piercing brown eyes.

Evan smiled back at his friend and colleague. "I suppose you're right, Commander. Let's just say we're playing our roles for now." He turned his attention back to Captain Toma Nikolaeva. "I went through the flight data recorder your ship. It's... disturbing to say the least."

Captain Toma Nikolaeva nodded solemnly. "Yes, Evan. We've been going over the data as well. It's clear they attack in a swarm, if it wasn't for the electrical discharge storm that the region of space puts out, they would've overwhelmed us." She paused, taking a deep breath. "That's when I gave an order to deploy a naquada warhead..."

"To act as a mine, to buy some time," Captain Evan Lorne finished for her. He knew how difficult it had been for Toma to make that decision, and he was grateful that she had the courage to do it. They were in enemy territory, after all. Every decision they made now could mean the difference between life and death.

"What Command had to say?" Captain Nikolaeva asked.

"They're worried, of course. The fact that these vessels look familiar to the one General Sheppard encounter 3 years ago." Captain Evan Lorne paused. "Where's Ronan?" He asked Toma.

"He's in his quarters, sir. He said he needed some rest after the battle." Commander Alexei Leonov answered.

"That's unusual, Evan. If Ronan needs some time, I'd like to speak to him." Captain Toma Nikolaeva said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, it's alright." Lorne said, understanding his friend's concern. "On with those ships."

"I read the report sir." Commander Alexei Leonov said to Captain Evan Lorne. "Other universe, time travel all in the day's work." He said with a chuckle.

Before Evan could utter a word, the ship buckles a bit, the alarm started to blare. Captain Nikolaeva lost her footing as Evan caught her in time. The well-lit bridge changed its hue to red and the emergency light came on.

"Report!" Evan barked.

"Sir, we got reports of explosion from the Chekov." Lieutenant Vargas said, hands shaking as she reported. "It's registering as a plasma burst, sir." She said as the holographic image of the Chekov docked in the Hammer's hanger, it zoomed in to the hole in the hull on the forward section of the ship.

Thor's Hammer Berth

Meanwhile on the bow of the Chekov; the autonomous worker bee already scanned the big hole on the port side, sparks flying from open control crystal circuits as the emergency forcefield shimmers in bluish light. Whatever destroyed the 304.8 mm inch think hull section didn't leave any residue, but the damage itself wasn't enough to cripple the ship. Of course, it was the emp from the naquadria enhance nuclear warhead.

Inside, the artificial gravity is offline in that part of the damaged area, cup, plates, tables and chairs are thrown everywhere after something hit them hard. The damage is mostly from the initial explosion that caused the hole on the port side, the debris field from the blast. The only visible tracks are the three crew members who tried to run for cover when the klaxon sounded. They ran towards the back of the mess hall, away from the port side, only to be crushed by falling debris when the explosion weakened the structural integrity of the bulkhead.

A Puddle Jumper ship flies towards the big hole, as the spotlight shines through the hole. The hatch opens up, as marines in space suites float out, using the suites maneuvering thrusters to position themsleves at the right place. They are followed by a medical team, also in space suits, carrying body bags and equipment. They attach themselves to the damaged ship.

The Pavel Chekov is nestled in within the Thor's Hammer's hangar bay, the massive doors sealed from the vacuum of space. The damage to the ship is visible even though the size of the ship dwarfs the repair team.

"Why can't we beam them out to the morge?" Asked one of the marine, walking inside the breach on the Chekov, as the medical team follows behind. "It's not like we have to worry about radiation contamination or anything."

"Sensors wasn't able to pick up any life signs," replied another marine, floating nearby. "We just need to attach the enhancers on them and Space Dock should take care of the rest."

The medical team and marines shine their flashlights from thier gauntlet, illuminating the breach. Blood, bodily fluids and debris coat the walls and floor of the mess hall. The air is thick with the smell of burning metal and ozone. The medical team carefully attaches the enhancers to the bodies, making sure to record all pertinent information.

"Sargeant Greer, I'm seeing 12 dead." The young marine's voice crackled through the comms.

Sergeant Ronald Greer, the marine in charge of the recovery team, nodded grimly. "I don't think they need first aid Tamara."

Tamara laughs at Ronald Greer's dry humor, trying to keep her nerves at bay. She's not really sure why they're here, just that the CNO ordered it. As she surveys the mess hall. the smell of death and ozone filling her nostrils, she realizes that this is the first time she's seen anything like this. The bodies, some charred beyond recognition, others still relatively intact, are scattered across the floor and tangled in debris. Blood pools beneath them, reflecting the dim light of their flashlights. The med team behind her, attaching sensors to each corpse, cataloging them for transport back to the Thor's Hammer morgue.

She glances up at the ceiling, wondering how much of the ship's structural integrity was compromised by the explosion. The damage control team had assured them that the Chekov could make it after an extensive repair, but she can't help but feel a knot forming in her stomach as she thinks about the crew members who wouldn't be returning to duty. The medical team finishes attaching the sensors to the last of the bodies, and with a slight nudge, they enveloped by bight light of energy as they disappear into nothingness, transported to the morgue.

Sargeant Greer went to the corner of the of the mess and spotted a strange object that seem to be not of human design. He picked it up and examined it closely. "Tamara, come here. Take a look at this." The object was metallic, with strange markings etched into its surface. It felt warm to the touch, almost as if it were alive. He scans it with his gauntlet but no information was returned.

"What is it, Sargeant?" asked Tamara as she approaches him, standing by his side. The metallic object he's holding catches the dim light of their flashlights, casting strange shadows across the grimy walls of the mess hall.

Sergeant Greer shrugs, handing it to her. "I don't know. It's unlike anything I've seen before. Feels almost alive." He glances around, wondering if there are any more of these objects hidden in the debris.

"Maybe a piece of the Harbinger's ship?" Tamara offers, referring to the swarms of ships that attack the Chekov earlier. "Maybe our Zelenka can find out more about it." She shivers slightly, feeling a chill run down her spine at the thought of what else might have been left behind by the enemy.

"Whatever it is," Sargeant Greer muses, "I'm sure the bookworms in R&D will be all over it." He gestures to the med team, indicating that they should continue with their task. The marines follow suit, moving through the mess hall, making sure that there aren't any other bodies or pieces of equipment that might be missed. As he approaches the door that leads to the corridor. He shines his light from his gauntlet to see that's been pried open halfway.

"Corporal Marsden, is this whole deck been sealed off?" He asked his marines.

"Yes sir!" Corporal Marsden answered.

"Alright people, weapons at the ready" Sargeant Greer grumbled as glance at the LCD screen on his gauntlet, it's 3in wide, 6in long make it easier to read as he scroll through the menu of weapons, that's in the gauntlet.

SGC Research and Development had spent months developing a tool for the Tau'ri Federation Marines to utilize. It could fabricate anything from a sidearm to a sniper rifle. He chose an M-8C plasma assault rifle, an assault rifle that took the form of a XM-8B, but been retrofitted into an energy weapon.

After the United Earth Alliance, then later became Tau'ri Federation cut contracts with major defense, weapons manufacture companies. The SGC became the primary supplier of weapons, technology, and equipment, saving trillions of taxpayers money in the process, allocating the funds towards the social safety net for their citizens. The SGC Research and Development had been working on a top-secret project to create a portable fabrication unit, capable of fabricating any weapon, tool, or equipment the marines would need on the spot.

Sargeant Greer taps on the M-8C plasma assault rifle in his gauntlet and immediately the M-8C PAR materializes in his hand, solidifying into the familiar shape of an assault rifle. The weapon feels warm to the touch, almost as if it's been recently fired. "Well damn, this is what I am talking about." He turns to his marines, giving them a nod.

With the rifle in hand, they carefully open the door and step into the corridor. The dim emergency lighting casts eerie shadows across the bulkheads, the monitors that's lining the bulkheads are flashing battlestation status, red alert. They proceed cautiously, weapons at the ready, scanning their surroundings for any signs of movement or hostile activity. Sargeant Greer check for biometric reading on his gauntlet.

"Well, it's safe to say there's no life forms in this corridor." He whispered, as he led the team down the corridor.

They thought they were safe until they heard a thrashing of something heavily being thrown against the bulkhead. The marines quickly ducked for cover, their weapons raised.

"What the hell?" Greer said as he taps his right temple to activate his night vision lens.

The corridor lit up in shades of green, revealing an alien with red skin and it's right forehead had 4 small led lights, it's eyes are red and it's a wearing some sort of tan armor, It looks at Greer team and started to snarl loudly.

"Holy shit!" One of the marines silently said. The creature lunged towards them, moving with surprising speed for its bulk. The marines fired their plasma bolts, striking the creature and causing it to stagger back. As it regained its footing, it snarled even more ferociously. The fight was on.

Sargeant Greer moved forward, taking point as the rest of his team fell into formation behind him. The M-8C plasma assault rifle felt solid and reassuring in his hands. He aimed at the creature's chest and fired a short burst of plasma bolts. The shots struck the creature chest armor, only for the bolts to disspates harmlessly. The alien roared in anger and charged at them once more.

"Everyone fire!" Sargeant Greer shouted as he unleashed a sustained barrage of plasma bolts at the charging alien. The marines followed suit, peppering the creature with a hail of energy fire. The alien staggered under the onslaught, its armor glowing red hot from the impacts. Greer switched his aim to the creature's legs, hoping to take it down. The assault rifle bucked in his hands as he fired a long, sustained burst at the alien's knees. With a sickening crunch, the creature went down, howling in pain.

"Looks like a wraith soldier." one of the marines, said between gulps of air.

"How the hell you know what a real-life wraith looks like Aucaman?" Sargeant Greer glance at the native American marine. "It's your first time here in the Pegasus Galaxy."

Aucaman's grin faded as he looked back at Greer. "You know, they do have those in history vids back on basic. Just saying." He shrugged. The rest of the squad shared uneasy glances. It was one thing to face off against the aliens they'd been trained for, but something else entirely to fight something they hadn't expected.

Private Wayra Acuman, a Native American from the Cherokee tribe, spent most of his life looking up, staring into the stars. After the formation of a United Earth Alliance and later transition to Tau'ri Federation; his tribe has been given a seat in the legislature. He and his other brethren and sisters enlisted in the Federation Marine Corp for a chance to serve for a better future for all humanity that's been spread out in the two galaxy.

He first learned that the Goa'uld had implanted his people in a planet Stargate Command code name PXY-887, where the Salish tribe were slaves to the Goa'uld until the people called Spirits or Neraida free them of their oppressors.

Now, the Tau'ri Federation reestablished diplomatic ties with the Salish tribes and Neraidan people, offering a seat to the legislature, to representing the interests of the PXY-887 people and the galaxy beyond.

After basic training, Private Wayra Acuman is assigned to the Thor's Hammer, the flagship of Pegasus Command and attached to the Marine Corp Security Regiment. When the Thor's Hammer is home on New Atlantis, he's usually assign to a SG team or policing a trading world.

The team moved closer to the alien they put down, not only it was down; it was reaching for something circular on it's belt. "Wait!" Greer shouted as he aim his rifle at the downed alien. The team froze as they see the downed alien pulling a small circular object, it's a grenade.

"GRENADE!" Greer shouted.

The team reacted quickly, diving for cover as the grenade exploded. The explosion rocks the corridor, sending fire and debris flying everywhere, collapsing the bulkheads on top of the alien and some of the marines who didn't make it in time burned into ashes, only leaving a smoking residue behind. The rest of the team are left struggling to breath as they cough up ash and blood, their bodies burning from the intense heat.

Corporal Marsden was the first to recover as he sat on the floor, wincing in pain as he check his legs and saw a piece of bulkhead about 6 inch long and 3 inch wide went through his thigh. His gauntlet flashing red and indicate that's he about to go into shock as the gauntlet AI pump him with painkiller. "I can't move!" He shouted. He looks around, he see's Sargeant Greer is face down on the floor, blood pouring out of his head. The M-8C plasma assault dematerialized into the gauntlet's, he must be unconscious. The corridor is a mess, fire and debris everywhere. The air is thick with smoke and it's hard to breath. The rest of the squad is also in bad shape.

Private Wayra Aucaman woke up to a twisted ankle and a burning pain in his left arm. He groaned and tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the floor. He took off his helmet and threw it against the bulkhead in frustration. "This is just great," he muttered under his breath.

Corporal Gorman dematerialized his rifle back in the gauntlet and lay on the floor on his back. His breathing was shallow and labored as he fought to stay conscious. He glanced over at Private Aucaman, who seemed to be faring even worse than him. The room spun around, and he thought he saw the wraith soldier move slightly before realizing it was just his imagination. The pain in his chest was intense, and he wondered if he'd been hit by shrapnel from the grenade. He slowly took off his body armor and lay it besides him and check his body if there is anything that's sticking out. Nothing sticks out and checked his vitals on the gauntlet, everything is normal except for the adrenaline rush.

Lt. Tamara Johansen slowly opens her eyes to a bright light flashing into her eyes. The medical staff from the Thor's Hammer check her vitals with his gauntlet as the beeping and other sounds scans her body. Her vision slowly returns to normal as she see's Corpsman Euan Grahame hovering over her.

"How you are feeling, Lieutenant?" He asks with Scottish accent.

"What of the others?" Lieutenant Johansen ask him in her hoarse voice.

Corpsman Grahame sighs, running a hand through his short hair. "Well, Private Aucaman has a twisted ankle and burns on his arm, Corporal Marsden has a piece of bulkhead in his thigh, and Sergeant Greer is unconscious," he trails off, his voice cracking. "3 marines was killed in the blast." He said while regenerating her wound on her forehead with dermal regenerator by flashing a low-level beam of light from a device that looks like a small flashlight.

"What's the diagnosis doc?" Lieutenant Johansen asks as Corpsman Grahame finishes up with her wounds. The medical staff continue to tend to the others, their hands moving quickly and efficiently as they work.

Corpsman Grahame checks her ekg on his gauntlet. "Lieutenant, your vitals are stable but you have a concussion. You'll need to rest for a few hours." He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "beam yourself to sickbay immediately."