TFS HAMMOND
DRACONIS 427, DRACONIS SECTOR
0800 ZULU (LOCAL TIME)
The steady hum of the TFS Hammond resonated through the corridors, accompanied by the soft clinks and taps of the crew working diligently to replace relays and synchronize embedded computer terminals. Lieutenant Commander Charly Burke walked alongside Colonel Ry'ac, her hand resting on his muscular arm. She leaned her head against his bicep, finding a small sense of comfort in his presence as they made their way to the mess hall.
The door hissed open, and as they stepped in, the air inside the hall was different, somehow lighter. Charly's eyes swept over the room. It wasn't much different from the mess halls she'd seen on other ships, but she couldn't shake the strangeness of this universe—this version of the Planetary Union that was called the Tau'ri Federation. Only two days had passed since she'd arrived, and the technology, although advanced, felt unfamiliar. Especially the food synthesizers.
Charly paused before the console, hesitating for a moment before tapping the screen. Her fingers danced over the controls as she selected what she hoped would be a small comfort: pancakes with blueberries. The plate materialized with a soft hum, and the sweet, familiar aroma filled her senses. She grabbed the tray and turned toward Ry'ac, whose brow was furrowed slightly as he studied the meal.
"For 100 years, I have lived in this universe, and I have never had or tried pancakes," he admitted as they walked to an empty table.
Charly smiled, the faint tension easing from her shoulders. "You don't know what you're missing," she teased. "It's my comfort food."
Ry'ac chuckled softly as they sat down. He spoke, his voice low and rich, taking her back to a childhood far removed from anything she had experienced. "As a boy on Chulak, my father taught me to fight and hunt before I even reached puberty. We used to hunt Udrud in the low plains. They're a species of cervid that the Goa'uld brought to our world thousands of years ago. The planet's DNA altered them, made them grow to 12 feet tall. Dressing an Udrud... now that is my passion."
Charly blinked, unsure if he was joking or serious. "All this technology, and you still hunt live animals?"
Ry'ac grinned, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in amusement. "Technology has its uses, but tradition has its place as well. It connects me to my ancestors."
Charly stared at him for a moment before laughing softly. "I guess that's one way to keep in touch with your roots."
As Ry'ac glanced at her plate again, curiosity flickered in his eyes. "So, are these pancakes really as comforting as you say?"
"Only one way to find out," she replied, cutting off a piece and offering it to him.
He accepted the forkful, hesitantly at first, then his eyes widened slightly as the flavor hit his palate. After a moment of silence, he nodded. "It's... different. But I can see why you like them."
As they sat down, Charly notices Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke making her way towards them with a similar tray. Charlotte, her bionic arm glinting slightly under the mess hall lights looked a little relaxed than usual, though she is keeping to herself. She replicated the same meal. Pancakes and blueberries.
Charly waved her over, and Charlotte took the seat across from them without hesitation. The silence between them is comfortable for the moment, all digging into their meals. "Ry'ac said that he prefers hunting for his food than using the food synthesizers."
"Of course, Jaffa prefers fresh food than food that's atomically combine and materializes on a plate." Charlotte says as she defends the practice of the Free Jaffa Nations. "Before the Tau'ri Federation made Food Synthesizers available to the public for free in 2012, Food became scarce when climate activist destroyed farms and food manufacturers began adding poisons in our food."
"That's scary stuff." Charly said.
"Glad I wasn't born in that time period." Charlotte stated as she took a bite of the pancake.
"I heard the President is related to you," Charly said with a casual matter.
"No," Charlotte said as she raises her eyebrow. "President Emin Emmagan is my husband's cousin."
Charly blinked in surprise as she is taken interest in her dopplganger's revelation. "Your husband's cousin?" she said as she tilted her head. "So, your husband's family must have a quite the history."
Charlotte gave a small nod. "My husband's family is royalty from the planet Eldred in the Pegasus Galaxy. In other words, he's technically a prince. But he's just a figurehead, really."
"A Prince?" Charly repeated.
Charlotte shrugged as if it was no big deal. "The title doesn't carry much weight anymore. It's more of a ceremonial than anything."
Ry'ac, who had been quietly listening, set down his fork and leaned back in the chair. "Eldred joined the Federation after they signed The Unified Security and Governance Accord in 2013."
"That's half of the story." Charlotte replied. "When Eldred joined the Tau'ri Federation, the royal family stepped aside from any real political power. What's left of it after the Wraith took most of the royal family and fed on them."
Charly is still processing the idea of Charlotte being connected to royalty and wince when she heard that the royal family was fed upon by the Wraith. "Who survived?"
"It's Anakin's great great great grandmother and her son name Little John that survived when she hid at the village elder's house." Charlotte said.
"That wasn't in the history books." Ry'ac reiterated. "Why didn't the Wraith cull the whole village?"
The Wraith sparing a whole planet and leaving the rest is common for them. They only want the well fed and the Royal family were a good source of sustenance that will prolong their insatiable hunger. The villager was malnourished, mistreated and are a slave to the Royal family to farm. Princess Mara and her son Little John hid in the Village elder's house from the Wraith.
"The Wraith only feed on the strong." Charlotte said as she look down at the pancake and too a sip of the orange juice. She exhales. "The villagers were malnourished."
"So, what about President Emin? How does he fit into the picture?" Charly ask.
Charlotte exhales softly, as if she had been asked the questions more times than she cared to count. "It's a little complicated," she admitted. "It's not in any holovids but back in 2012, General John Sheppard married Teyla Emmagan in Washington D.C. She had a son from her previous relationship name Kanaan, he died while taking a tour of San Fransico. But Sheppard adopted him, her son didn't take his last name. That's how the Emmagan line continued.
Charly's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "So Teyla...she is the queen, right"
"Not exactly," Charlotte said, shaking her head. "She's the leader of the Athosian, her people. They don't have royalty the way planet Eldred does, but she's still highly respected."
Ry'ac nodded in agreement, picking up the story. "General Sheppard lead an expeditionary force into the Pegasus Galaxy to protect it's people from the Wraith. He had a fleet of around thirty to forty ships, and they needed a base of operation."
"And that's where Eldred comes in."
Charlotte continued, "Yes, Eldred have a sister city ship of Atlantis that had been abandoned for thousands of years. Over time, nature took over; vines, trees everything grew around the ship. It became part of the landscape." She said as she turns the holovid on that hover over the table between them.
"That's incredible," Charly murmured, her mind envisioning the sight from where she is. "So, General Sheppard is ordered by first Tau'ri Federation President name Henry Hayes to negotiate with the planet's leaders to use the city as a base of operations?"
"He did," Ry'ac said. "But what he didn't expect was the surprise waiting for him. Queen Mara had borne him a son Little John Sheppard; seven years earlier. She had kept it a secret."
"Sheppard didn't know?" Charly eye's widen in shock.
"No," Charlotte said, shaking her head. "Queen Mara had her reasons for keeping it a secret. But when Sheppard came to negotiate, she had one condition."
"What was that?"
"She wanted John Sheppard to marry her and acknowledge their son officially," Charlotte explains. "It wasn't just about politics, she still loves him and wants her son to have a future where there is no more Wraith."
Charly is stunned. "And Sheppard agreed to that?"
"Not at first," Charlotte said. "It wsn't really his choice, though. President Henry Hayes accepted the offer and gave Sheppard a special disposition to marry Queen Mara. It was about solidifying the alliance with Eldred and securing their strategic base."
"So...little John Sheppard is Anakin's ancestor?"
"His great great great grandfather."
Charly is quiet for a moment. "That's pretty amazing."
Before Charly could ask anymore questions, the sound of the intercom sounded with a ping, drawing everyone's attention. The voice of the ship's female comms officer crackled through the mess hall.
"Lieutenant Commander Charly Burke and Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke, please report to General Samantha's Carter O'Neill's office immediately."
"I'll clean up." Ry'ac said.
Charly exchanges a quick glance with Charlotte, who had already pushed her plate aside and stood up.
Few moments laters
Charly Burke steps out of the transporter elevator and pauses, taking a deep breath. It's only her second time using the transporter since arriving in this universe, and she still isn't used to the unsettling sensation of her molecules being disassembled and reassembled. It feels invasive, like her body isn't her own for those few seconds. She keeps quiet about it, especially around Charlotte, who moves through realities and universes with ease, as if hopping on a shuttle.
Beside her, Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke shows no sign of discomfort, her stride steady and confident as she exits the transporter. She has the air of someone who's done this thousands of times. Charly glances at her, wondering how long it took Charlotte to adapt to all this unfamiliar technology. Despite being so alike, the vast differences in their experiences become more apparent with every passing moment.
The two walk side by side down the TFS Hammond's corridor, the soft hum of the ship's systems providing a steady backdrop. The polished metal walls reflect the glow of control panels and status lights. Charly absently runs her hand along the cool surface of the wall, needing the grounding sensation in this strange universe that feels both real and surreal.
"Second time using the transporters?" Charlotte asks, her voice calm, accompanied by a knowing smile.
Charly chuckles nervously. She isn't surprised Charlotte noticed. The crew passing by pays them no mind, accustomed to seeing the two of them together. They greet Charly warmly, recognizing her as a new arrival, and salute Charlotte, who returns the gesture with her black bionic arm. "Yeah," Charly admits. "Still getting used to it. In my universe, transporters haven't been invented yet. We still use shuttles to move troops and crew."
Charlotte's eyes soften with understanding, though she keeps her pace steady. "It's disorienting at first. But you'll get used to it. After a while, you won't even think about it."
Charly nods, though she's not sure that'll ever be true. Everything here feels disorienting. The ship, the people, the mission—nothing feels quite right, and she can't shake the sensation that she doesn't belong.
As they near General Samantha Carter O'Neill's office, Charly steals another glance at Charlotte. The differences between their lives fascinate her. Two versions of the same person—yet Charlotte has a bionic arm powered by liquid naquadah and has fought against Berserker drones, while she spent her career as an engineer and pilot in the Planetary Union.
"Do you ever miss... the way things used to be?" Charly asks softly, a mix of curiosity and vulnerability in her voice.
Charlotte glances at her, the question hanging in the air before she responds. "Like what?" she asks, her voice steady and neutral.
Charly hesitates, sensing the weight of Charlotte's words. The losses, the sacrifices—Charlotte has been through things she can't imagine. Her bionic arm is a constant reminder. Though Charly hasn't asked about it directly, it's clear the subject isn't one Charlotte would casually discuss. "Like when there wasn't a threat looming over you, like... before the drones took your husband."
"For almost 300 years since the Tau'ri Federation's inception, we were at peace," Charlotte says, her tone hardening slightly. "Except for Earth. Mostly in North America and Europe—there were groups, the MSM, who rejected the new world order. Misinformation campaigns riled up the people. The Federation passed laws that benefited everyone in the galaxy, but they didn't see it that way."
"Why not?" Charly asks, intrigued.
"They claim there aren't enough human seats in the Parliament," Charlotte replies, a note of frustration in her voice.
Before Charly can ask more, they reach the door to General Carter O'Neill's office. It slides open with a soft hiss, revealing the pristine interior. General Samantha Carter O'Neill sits behind her desk, her expression calm but focused as she reviews a holo-display of star charts and tactical data. Her eyes flick up as the two women enter.
"Lieutenant Commander Burke. Gunnery Sergeant Burke," Carter greets them with a nod, her voice carrying the unmistakable authority of decades of command. "Thank you for coming."
Charly and Charlotte stand at attention, their differences fading as they face the general. Charly senses the tension in the room, the weight of whatever conversation lies ahead.
General Carter motions for them to sit, her expression serious as she powers down the holo-display. "Charly, the President has authorized you to enter the rupture," Carter says, her eyes shifting to Charlotte. "Gunnery Sergeant, a ship from SPOC will arrive shortly to pick you up."
"Thank you, ma'am," Charly responds, glancing at Charlotte.
"The President and the Ministry of State want to establish a dialogue with your universe," Carter explains, turning her attention back to Charly.
"For what purpose, ma'am?" Charlotte asks, her voice steady.
Carter activates a holographic display, projecting images of galaxies where the Federation's influence is limited. "SEAL teams, led by Commander Sheppard, will be conducting raids on Cerberus targets in outer colonies that have cut ties with the Federation," she explains, showing 20 galaxies beyond Federation control.
The room falls silent as the enormity of the mission sinks in. The tension between worlds, between universes, is far greater than Charly realized.
Unknown Galaxy, Cerberus StarBase
The Illusive Man steps into the hangar, his footsteps echoing softly against the metallic floor. His gaze is drawn to the ship before him—a massive, ominous vessel shaped like a squid, with three pronged tentacles extending outward. The sheer scale of the ship is staggering, towering over everything around it at 828 meters, rivaling the height of the Burj Khalifa.
The ship's dark surface gleams under the hangar lights, giving it an almost otherworldly presence. As he approaches, the air feels charged with energy, and the ship seems to pulse with a life of its own.
A voice emanates from the ship, mechanical yet laced with a strange sentience. "Who are you?" the ship asks, its deep, resonant voice echoing in the vastness of the hangar.
The Illusive Man takes a long drag from his cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before releasing it. His eyes remain fixed on the ship, his expression calm and calculating. "I am not of your concern," he replies, his voice carrying an air of detached confidence. "Although, I must say, your programming is... remarkable."
The ship responds immediately, a subtle shift in its tone as if offended. "I am alive, not a computer program."
A chuckle escapes the Illusive Man, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Sure you are," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "Keep telling yourself that."
He takes another drag of his cigar, watching as the ship's tentacles seem to twitch slightly, perhaps in response to his words. Whatever this entity is—biological, synthetic, or something in between—it intrigues him. But for now, it remains a mystery, one he intends to unravel on his own terms.