TFS Avalon - Long Range Recon Ship
CONSTANTINE CLASS CORVETTE
FEDERATION SHIPYARD
ASURA 2, PEGASUS GALAXY
DECEMBER 2367
Asura 2 is a sight to behold, a testament to the collaboration between the Federation and the Asurans. The shipyard, hovering in low orbit, resembled a web of gleaming metal and advanced technology, where starships of all sizes is constructed and repaired. The shipyard's efficiency is unrivaled, thanks to the workforce that didn't need rest or sustenance The Asurans had transformed from galactic threats into the Federation's backbone, building everything from massive battleships to nimble corvettes that patrols the Pegasus Galaxy.
Inside one of the many spacedocs, the TFS Avalon, a Federation's Constantine class Corvette, is undergoing critical repairs. The ship had a barely survived a surprise ambush by a rogue Wraith hive, a faction that refused all overtures of peace from the Federation. The Wraith saw only one purpose for the Tau'ri and their allies: Food. And despite ears of trying to broker peace with the larger Wraith factions, the rogue element had been relentless in their attacks.
In his office aboard the Avalon, Captain Sa'ed Hamid sat in his office, tired eyes scanning the last few lines of his After Action Report. The battle had been chaotic hit and run tactics employed by the rogue Wraith had forced the Avalon into a dangerous situation. The damage had been severe, but more worrying were the casualties among the crew. Several key officers had been injured, and despite their victory, morale is low.
His fingers hovered over the submit when his wrist comm flashes green. interrupting his concentration. He taps the wrist comm and a holographic projection of General Samantha Carter O'Neill appeared before him. The head of Research and Development Division, Carter is one of the most respected figures in the Tau'ri Federation, and her appearance is never without importance.
"Captain," She began with a calm but urgent tone. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"
"General," Hamid replied, standing up straighter. "I was just about to submit my report on the Wraith ambush."
"I won't keep you long," Carter responded. "I need to borrow one of your crew for a special mission."
"Of course, General. Who do you need?"
"Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke."
Hamid blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Sergeant Burke? My armory officer?"
Carter nodded. "Yes, I am aware she't not officially your armory officer, but she's far more experienced than her title implies. I've been keeping an eye on her for some time. And... I've notied she has been promoted despite her exceptional record. Why is that?"
The Captain sighs and lean back in his chair, his gaze shifting away. "After the loss of her husband, Colonel Anakin John Sheppard, she's been volunteering for every dangerous mission that comes our way. She's reckless, General. I've been hesitant to promote her because I don't know if she's ready to handle more responsibility."
Carter's expression softens, understanding flickering in her eyes. "I see. She's been carrying a lot, hasn't she?"
"More than most," Hamid admitted, "but she's a damn fine soldier."
"That's why I need her," Carter said. "This mission could be what she needs to regain focus."
Hamid hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, General. I'll notify her immediately."
"Thank you, Captain," Carter said, her hologram flickering slightly before disappearing.
TFS CONSTANTINE - LONG RANGE RECON SHIP
VOID BETWEEN GALAXIES
NOVEMBER 8, 2365
The void between galaxies stretches infinitely in all directions, black and desolate. No stars twinkle in the distance. No planets offer solace. The TFS Constantine, a Tau'ri Federation scout ship, drifts through the emptiness after emerging from hyperspace. It's the only source of light for light-years. The silence is unnerving, pressing against the ship like a cold blanket. Yet, for the seasoned crew, this vast emptiness is familiar.
Ensign Robert Bruce sits at his station on the bridge, watching his screens for hours on end. His fingers hover over the controls, but everything is still—almost too still. The quiet hum of the ship's systems is the only sound that fills the room. The sensors haven't picked up anything unusual for days, just more of the same emptiness. It's routine, yet the vastness of the void can make even the most disciplined officer feel small.
Bruce is young, fresh out of the Tau'ri Federation Naval Academy, and determined to prove himself. His family has a long history in the Navy, and he wears that legacy like a badge of honor. He shifts in his seat, trying to stay alert. But then something flickers on his sensor screen—a tiny blip, barely detectable. His heart skips a beat.
"Captain Reinhardt," Bruce calls out, keeping his voice steady despite the adrenaline rush. "I'm picking up an anomaly on sensors."
Captain Reinhardt, a grizzled veteran with decades of deep-space missions under his belt, approaches the ensign's station. His eyes narrow as he studies the blip on the screen. He taps a few buttons on the console to enhance the readings, but it's faint—too faint.
"Put the ship on high alert," Reinhardt says, his voice low but firm.
The alert sounds, its piercing tone cutting through the quiet of the ship. Instantly, the bridge crew springs into action. Red lights flash along the corridors as the crew prepares for whatever may be lurking in the darkness outside the ship. Reinhardt continues to watch the screen, his face hardening as the blip grows clearer.
"Colonel Sheppard to the bridge," Reinhardt orders through the ship-wide comm system.
****V****
Colonel Anakin Sheppard lies in bed, the warmth of his wife, Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke, beside him. The comm system crackles to life, and Captain Reinhardt's voice interrupts the moment.
"Sheppard to the bridge."
Anakin sighs heavily, running a hand over his face. He's been in countless battles and knows better than to expect a quiet moment for long. He turns to Charlotte, who raises an eyebrow.
"Duty calls," he says, already rising from the bed and reaching for his uniform.
"Always at the most inconvenient times," Charlotte teases, sitting up and stretching before pulling on her own clothes. "I'm coming with you."
The two exchange a knowing smile before heading out of their quarters. It's not the first time they've had to leave the warmth of each other's company for a crisis, and it won't be the last.
****V****
As they step onto the bridge, the tension in the air is palpable. The blip on the sensor screen has solidified into something much larger—something unmistakable.
A Berserker drone warship, vast and menacing, appears on the screen, shadowing the Constantine like a predator stalking its prey. Berserkers are a terrifying, almost mythical threat: robotic killing machines, relentless and nearly indestructible, created by an unknown race. Wherever they go, destruction follows.
Sheppard's eyes narrow as he stares at the massive warship. "What's the situation?" he asks, his voice all business now.
"We've got one large Berserker warship and more drones appearing on sensors. They're deploying," Captain Reinhardt replies, his tone grim. "We're severely outnumbered and outgunned."
Sheppard steps closer to the screen, his mind already racing. He's been in situations like this before, but this... this is worse. The warship is massive, and the Berserker drones are notorious for being nearly impossible to stop. He clenches his jaw.
"Get all hands to battle stations," Sheppard orders. "Prepare for engagement."
Reinhardt nods, and his voice booms through the comms: "All hands, battle stations! We're under attack!"
The Constantine's systems flare to life. Shields go up, and weapons power online. The crew rushes to their stations, but there's no panic—just controlled urgency. These are seasoned veterans, trained for exactly this kind of high-stakes combat. The hum of energy weapons and the whine of the shields fill the air as the Constantine braces for battle.
****V****
Suddenly, the Constantine shudders violently as the first wave of Berserker drones fire. Energy blasts slam into the shields, and the ship rocks under the impact. Sparks fly from consoles, and the lights flicker for a moment before stabilizing.
"We're taking fire!" someone shouts over the chaos. "Shields are holding, but not for long."
"Shields at eighty percent," another voice reports. "They're focusing on the aft section."
Sheppard grabs the edge of a console to steady himself as another blast shakes the ship. He knows they can't take much more of this. The Berserkers' weapons are too powerful, and they're outnumbered ten to one. They need a plan—and fast.
"What's our best option here?" Captain Reinhardt asks, turning to Sheppard, sweat beading on his forehead. "We can't go toe-to-toe with them. They'll tear us apart."
Sheppard's mind races. He knows the Berserker drones are nearly indestructible, but they have one weakness: their power cores. If they can locate the warship's power source and destroy it, they might stand a chance.
"We need to find their power core," Sheppard says. "It's the only way to stop them. We take that out, and the whole fleet goes down."
Reinhardt nods, but there's no time to respond. Another explosion rocks the ship, this one more violent than the last. The shields are buckling under the constant assault.
"Shields at fifty percent!" a lieutenant calls out.
Charlotte is at her station, fingers flying over the controls as she monitors the shield levels. "We're not going to last much longer," she says, her voice tense but steady. "The shields are dropping fast."
****V****
The Berserker warship looms closer, its weapons charging for another volley. It's now or never.
"Divert all power to shields and weapons," Reinhardt orders. "We need to buy ourselves time."
But time is running out. The drones are swarming, their blasts hammering the Constantine from every direction. The ship shakes violently, and the lights flicker again. Several consoles explode in showers of sparks, and crew members are thrown from their stations.
"Shields down to thirty percent!" Charlotte calls out, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Sheppard moves to a terminal, scanning for any weakness in the Berserker warship's structure. It's a desperate attempt, but if they can pinpoint the power core's location, they might still have a chance.
"There!" Sheppard says, spotting a faint energy signature deep within the warship's hull. "That's their power core. Target all weapons on that location."
Reinhardt gives the order, and the Constantine's weapons systems lock onto the warship's power core. The ship's energy cannons fire, sending a barrage of bright blue blasts hurtling toward the enemy ship. They strike the warship's hull, but the drones respond immediately, launching a counter-attack.
The Constantine shakes violently as more blasts pound its shields. Alarms blare, and the crew struggles to maintain control.
"Shields at twenty percent! We're losing atmosphere on decks four and five!" a lieutenant shouts over the din.
****V****
Sheppard looks at Charlotte, and for a moment, their eyes meet. There's fear in her gaze. She's not ready to give up, and neither is he. But the odds are against them, and they both know it.
"We can't hold out much longer," Reinhardt says, his voice low. "We need to evacuate. Now."
Sheppard hesitates. He doesn't want to leave the ship, but he knows Reinhardt is right. The Constantine is dying, and if they don't get to the escape pods soon, they won't survive the next barrage.
"Get to the escape pods," Sheppard says, turning to Charlotte. "That's an order."
But Charlotte shakes her head. "I'm not leaving you."
Sheppard steps toward her, his voice firm. "Charlotte, you have to go. I'll be right behind you."
She opens her mouth to argue, but the ship shakes again, more violently this time. A massive explosion rocks the bridge, and part of the ceiling collapses. They don't have time for this.
"Go!" Sheppard yells, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the door.
Reluctantly, Charlotte follows him. The corridors are filled with smoke, and injured crew members stagger toward the escape pods. Sheppard and Charlotte help as many as they can, guiding them to safety. The ship continues to shudder, its structural integrity failing as the Berserker drones tear it apart.
****V****
Finally, they reach the escape pods. Sheppard pushes Charlotte inside one, and she grabs his hand, her eyes pleading.
"Don't you dare stay behind," she says, her voice thick with emotion.
"I won't," he promises, giving her hand a squeeze before stepping back. "I'll be right behind you."
The pod door closes, and the hiss of the release mechanism fills the air as it launches into space. Sheppard watches it go, then turns back to the corridor. There are still more crew members to save.
But before he can move, the ship shudders one last time. The lights flicker and die, plunging the corridor into darkness. Sheppard stumbles, his hand finding the wall to steady himself. The sound of explosions echoes through the ship, and he knows—this is it.
The Constantine is going down.
****V****
Outside the ship, the escape pods drift through space, carrying the surviving crew members away from the wreckage. The Berserker warship looms in the distance, still menacing and powerful. But for now, the drones seem to ignore the pods, focusing instead on the dying ship.
In her pod, Charlotte stares out at the void, her heart pounding. She's safe—for now—but the thought of Sheppard still on the Constantine makes her chest tighten. She presses her hands against the cold glass, her breath fogging the surface.
****V****
Back on the Constantine, Sheppard fights his way through the crumbling ship, helping the last of the crew into the remaining escape pods. His body aches, bruised and battered from the explosions, but he pushes through the pain. He won't leave anyone behind.
As the last pod launches into space, Sheppard stands alone on the bridge, watching the Berserker warship through the viewport. The ship is falling apart around him, but he feels strangely calm. He's done all he can.
And then, with a final, thunderous explosion, the Constantine goes dark.
Present
Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke bolted upright in her bed, her heart pounding. The remnants of her nightmare clung to her, a dark, suffocating cloud she couldn't shake. In the dream, she had relived the destruction of the Constantine, the screams of her comrades echoing in her ears as the Berserker drones had torn through their defenses. And then, like always, she had seen Anakin, her husband, die in the chaos, his voice the last thing she heard before waking up.
Her comm unit blinked on her desk, pulling her back to the present. She swung her legs off the bed, still feeling the lingering weight of the dream. Taps on the comm, she read the brief message:
"Report to Captain Hamid's office immediately."
She exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. Whatever this is, it wasn't routine. Her nightmares would have to wait.
Charlotte entered Captain Hamid's office, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp. She had always been able to compartmentalize her emotions, especially in the field. But lately, even that had been difficult. The pain of losing Anakin had chipped away at the walls she had built around herself, leaving her more vulnerable than she liked to admit.
"Sergeant Burke," Hamid began, looking up from his desk. "At ease."
She stood, her arms relaxed by her sides, waiting for him to speak.
"I've just spoken with General Samantha Carter," Hamid continued. "She's requested you for a special mission."
Burke raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "A special mission, sir? What kind of mission?"
Hamid leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "I can't tell you much. It's classified, but General Carter specifically requested you. She seems to think you're the right person for the job."
Charlotte's mind raced. Why would General Carter, one of the most respected figures in the Federation, ask for her? She wasn't a high-ranking officer, and she certainly wasn't the first choice for most covert missions. But something in Hamid's voice told her this isn't an ordinary mission.
"I'll do it, sir," she said firmly. "Whatever the mission is, I'm ready."
Hamid studied her for a moment, his gaze softening. "Are you sure? I know you've been through hell. If you need more time."
"I don't need time," she interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. "I need to be out there, doing something that matters."
Hamid nodded slowly, understanding. "Very well. Report to the shuttle bay in two hours. You'll be briefed on your mission en route."