I have decided to rework the most review story in my lifetime. So anyway, this is a crossover between Stargate and Orville. I do not own Stargate or Orville by the way.
Prologue
Charlotte Burke wakes up to lights shining in her eyes, as though doctors are checking on her. Disoriented, she squints and turns her head to the left, where she sees medical personnel in scrubs examining holographic displays. The sterile, futuristic medbay around her feels alien, unfamiliar. Her heart races as she wonders if this is the afterlife. The last thing she remembers is overloading a weapon she had created—her desperate, final act to stop it from firing. And now, she's here, in a place that doesn't feel real.
Slowly, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, feeling lightheaded. Stumbling toward a nearby window, she looks out to see a ship orbiting a planet. Her stomach sinks, could that be the planet from her universe? The one that had just exploded?
"Doctor, she's awake," a soft voice says behind her.
Charlotte turns to see a nurse speaking to a man in a white coat with black hair. The doctor approaches, wearing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Good morning, Charlotte. Welcome back," he says warmly, though she hears the caution in his voice.
"What happened? Where am I?" she asks, her voice shaky with confusion.
"You're aboard the Tau'ri Federation ship *Okinawa*. We're more of a Federation these days than a strict Tau'ri operation," he explains. "We found you unconscious on a planet's surface. We're still not sure how you ended up there."
Charlotte's head spins with the implications. *The Tau'ri Federation?* That name doesn't exist in her universe. She tries to process the doctor's words, but the gap between what she knows and what she's hearing feels like a chasm too wide to cross. She's aboard a ship, that much is clear, but the rest makes no sense.
"I don't understand," she mutters. "How did I get here?"
The doctor walks over to her bedside and gently pushes her back down to sit. "You need to rest. You've been through quite an ordeal."
But Charlotte shakes her head. "No, I can't rest. I need to figure this out. How did I get here?"
The doctor sighs. "We found you unconscious in a cavern on a planet. There was a strange energy signature surrounding the area, but we don't know what caused it. You were in bad shape when we brought you aboard."
She leans back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and fear. How had she ended up in a completely different place—possibly a different reality; when only moments ago, she had been fighting to prevent her universe's destruction? The idea feels impossible, and yet, here she is.
Before she can ask more questions, the door to her room hisses open. A man in a dark uniform steps inside. He carries himself with authority, and Charlotte can immediately tell he's the one in charge.
"I'm Captain Gus Jameson," he says, his voice tinged with a southern drawl. He takes a few steps toward her, watching her carefully. "I need to ask you some questions."
Charlotte pushes herself up slightly, her pulse quickening again. "What is this place?" she asks, her voice rising. "How did I end up here?"
Jameson sighs, his expression hard to read. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me. My away team was investigating a massive energy signature coming from inside a cavern. They found you there, unconscious and severely burned. If it weren't for our medical team, you wouldn't be sitting here right now."
She looks down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. They look perfectly fine, not a mark on them. "Burned to a crisp?" she thinks to herself, her heart pounding. She looks up at Jameson, her voice tight with disbelief. "Burned to a crisp, sir?"
"You can say thank you for that," the doctor interjects, his voice tinged with pride.
"Doctor, deactivate yourself," Captain Jameson says, glancing toward the holo-emitter.
The doctor shimmers, his form fading as he disappears into the ship's systems, his voice muttering a final, "No one appreciates the work I do around here."
Jameson gives a small, apologetic shrug. "Sorry about that. He wasn't exactly programmed with the best bedside manner."
Charlotte stares after the doctor's disappearing form, her mind struggling to keep up. "You said I was burned?"
"That's right," Jameson confirms. "We found you in pretty rough shape. Our medical technology is pretty advanced. They managed to patch you up, but what happened to you down there?"
She hesitates, unsure how much to reveal. "My people… we were at war," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "The enemy had acquired a weapon...something powerful enough to destroy solar systems."
Jameson narrows his eyes, his expression becoming even more serious. "What kind of weapon are we talking about?"
"It's a weapon of mass destruction," Charlotte admits. But she can't bring herself to tell him the full truth, that she had designed it. She had meant it to be a last resort, but everything had gone so horribly wrong. The enemy had gotten their hands on it, and she'd been forced to overload it to prevent them from using it.
Jameson seems to study her, as if sensing there's more she isn't saying. "Do you have any idea what year it is?" he asks, changing the subject abruptly.
Charlotte frowns, caught off guard by the question. "It's the year 3122," she replies cautiously.
Jameson shakes his head, his expression grim. "I'm afraid it's January 12, 2367."
Her heart skips a beat. "What?" she gasps, sitting up fully now. "That… that can't be right."
"It seems you may have crossed not just into a different place, but also into a different time," Jameson explains. "You're nearly 755 years in the past, from your perspective."
Charlotte's mind reels. The notion of time travel feels far-fetched, but the evidence is staring her in the face. "755 years in the past?" How is that even possible?
"We'll need to run some tests to be sure," the captain continues. "But the energy signature we found near you suggests something very unusual happened."
Charlotte feels her pulse racing, anxiety surging through her veins. "How did this happen and how did I end up here?" She said as she started to explain. "I was trying to stop the weapon… to save my universe…"
Jameson raises a hand to calm her. "We don't have all the answers yet, but my crew is already investigating. If there's a way to send you back, we'll find it."
The words are meant to reassure her, but Charlotte only feels more lost. "What about the planet I was on?" she asks, her voice trembling. "It… it exploded, didn't it?"
Jameson's face darkens. "No, the planet didn't explode when we found you, but you were the only survivor we found."
The weight of those words settles over Charlotte like a heavy blanket. She stares at the floor, her mind racing. She failed. The planet was gone. Everyone she had tried to save… gone. And now, she's in an entirely different universe, stranded in a time that isn't her own.
"Is there… is there a way to fix this?" she asks, her voice small.
Jameson nods. "We'll do everything we can to help you. But it's not going to be easy. The forces at play here are beyond what we usually deal with. You're from another time and maybe even another reality altogether. Getting you back will take time and resources, but I'll make sure my team puts everything they've got into figuring it out."
She looks up at him, a mixture of hope and despair clouding her vision. "Thank you, Captain."
Jameson nods. "Get some rest for now. I'll keep you updated on our progress."
With that, he turns and exits the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Charlotte sits there, alone in the sterile silence, her mind racing. How had everything gone so wrong? She had been trying to save her universe, and now she's stranded, alone, in an unfamiliar future with no clear way back.
She leans her head back against the pillow, closing her eyes, but sleep won't come. Instead, her mind replays the moments before the explosion—the blinding light, the overwhelming energy, and the sensation of everything coming apart. How had she survived that? What had transported her here, to this ship, in this time?
The question lingers as the quiet hum of the ship surrounds her. Her chest tightens with the weight of her losses—her people, her world, and now, her time. All gone in an instant.
But even as despair threatens to swallow her whole, a flicker of determination sparks inside her. She has to find a way back. There has to be something she can do to reverse this—to fix what went wrong.
As she stares up at the unfamiliar ceiling, a single thought echoes in her mind: *I will find a way back, no matter what it takes.*
The burden of the future—or rather, the past—may weigh heavily on her shoulders, but she refuses to give up.
