TFS AVALON
TAU'RI FEDERATION SHIPYARD
ASURA 2, PEGASUS GALAXY
DECEMBER 12, 2367
Charlotte sits up in her quarters aboard the TFS *Orville*, her mind still reeling from the strange turn of events. The suitcase on the bed remains open, but unpacked, its contents strewn about haphazardly. She leans over to the dresser, rummaging through the top drawer until she finds a shatterproof metal case. The case contains a small vial of liquid naquadah, a resource that has become vital to her survival.
With a deep, steadying breath, Charlotte removes the vial and inserts it into a small compartment in her bionic right arm. A series of clicks and beeps follow, confirming the integration. She watches as her arm hums softly to life, the energy flowing through it, once again powering the limb that has become a symbol of her loss. Most Federation soldiers opt for gene therapy to regenerate lost limbs, but not Charlotte. This bionic arm is more than just a tool—it is a constant, painful reminder of her past, a link to the day she lost her husband in a battle against robotic lifeforms.
Her hatred for synthetic lifeforms is deep and bitter, a wound that never fully heals. Yet, her feelings are complicated when it comes to the Asurans. She views them differently, as programmable machines that can be directed to serve a purpose. Perhaps they're not all bad, but it's hard to know where the line is, especially after everything she's been through.
As Charlotte locks her arm in place, a hiss of compressed air fills the room. "Synchronized," a synthetic voice announces, the cold sound echoing in the quiet. She glances at her reflection, taking in the soldier she's become—hardened by years of war, loss, and sacrifice. Promotions and commendations have been offered, but she's turned them all down. To her, they feel hollow, meaningless gestures compared to what she's lost.
She begins packing her belongings, not that there's much to pack—just the standard fatigues, wife-beaters, and shorts she wears on missions. Most of it can be replicated wherever she's headed. She scans her orders on the holo display on her wrist. "Stargate unavailable, Puddle Jumper 24 on hangar bay 2, ready for liftoff."
"Great," she mutters, annoyed. A puddle jumper? She'd rather beam directly into the heart of danger than take one of those small, cramped ships. But orders are orders.
Within moments, she's walking down the stark hallways of the *Orville*, her boots echoing on the metal floor as she approaches the hangar bay. The jumper is waiting, its small, sleek form glistening under the hangar lights. As she steps inside, she's greeted by the pilot—a young Cimmerian with blond hair and a beard, which is rare for Navy personnel. But the Cimmerians have special treatment when it comes to regulations, a nod to their cultural traditions.
"Are you Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke?" the pilot asks, turning to her with a grin.
"Yes," Charlotte responds, glancing at the rank on his collar. "Lieutenant Thorfinnsson, I presume?"
He nods and gestures to the co-pilot seat. "You can stow your bag in the cargo net and sit up front. We'll be leaving immediately."
"Any other passengers?" she asks, already suspecting the answer.
"No ma'am, just you," he says with a chuckle as he swivels his chair toward the controls. "I was ordered to bring you to the *Orville*."
Charlotte frowns, a surge of unease filling her. "*The Orville?*" she repeats under her breath, thinking of the ship she once called home. The place where she and her husband had served side by side, exploring uncharted galaxies. It had been her life, once. Now it felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by pain and loss.
TFS ORVILLE
5TH RAPID REACTIONARY TASK FORCE
DRACONIS 427, DRACONIAN SECTOR
DECEMBER 13, 2367
The hum of the Puddle Jumper's engines slowly fades as Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke steps off the ramp, the cool air of the docking bay greeting her. The Orville feels as massive as ever, but there's something different about this visit—something she can't quite put her finger on. Her mind still buzzes from the unnervingly fast jump to the Milky Way. Despite their small size, the new Puddle Jumpers are equipped with faster-than-light technology, a recent upgrade that caught her by surprise. Just two hours to reach Draconis 427—a feat she hadn't thought possible.
She barely has time to gather her thoughts before she's greeted by two familiar faces. Standing in front of her is General Samantha Carter O'Neill, one of the most renowned leaders in Federation history. Next to her is Admiral Edouard Mercier, a man she once served under when he was just a captain aboard the TFS Horizon. The sight of the admiral bars on his uniform sparks a flicker of pride in Charlotte.
She salutes them both as the last of the Jumper's engines power down behind her. "Sir. Ma'am."
"At ease, Gunnery Sergeant," Carter says, her voice professional but with a warmth Charlotte has come to expect from the General.
"Welcome back to the Orville, Burke," Admiral Mercier adds, his tone more familiar, filled with genuine appreciation. The hint of a smile on his face speaks to their shared history.
"Thank you, sir," Charlotte replies, lowering her hand but unable to shake the feeling that something unusual is about to happen. There's tension in the air. She hesitates, glancing between the two officers, then takes a deep breath. "Permission to speak freely?"
Carter nods. "Granted."
"What am I doing here, ma'am?" Charlotte asks, her voice direct but respectful. She then glances over at Mercier, a small smile breaking her typically stern expression. "Admiral Mercier. I like the new title."
Mercier chuckles, his face flushing slightly. "Thanks, Charlotte. It's been a long road."
Carter shifts slightly, always one to keep things moving forward. "Gunnery Sergeant," she begins, her voice lowering with intent, "what do you know about alternate dimensions?"
Charlotte blinks caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. She racks her brain for what little she knows about the subject. "Not much, ma'am. I know they exist, or at least theoretically. Different versions of us in parallel universes or something like that."
Carter raises an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You had the highest ASVAB score in your class, enough to get you into the academy. Don't sell yourself short."
Charlotte shrugs, though a small sense of pride creeps into her voice. "Never saw the point in sitting behind a desk."
"You're smart, Burke," Carter says, her tone softening. "You need to assert yourself more. You have the potential to be more than just a soldier."
"Is that why I'm here?" Charlotte asks, her frustration now bubbling just beneath the surface. "To get a lecture about career paths?"
Before Carter can respond, another voice echoes through the bay. The sound sends a shiver down Charlotte's spine—because it's her own voice, but it isn't coming from her lips.
She turns sharply, her eyes widening in disbelief. Standing just a few feet away is another woman, identical to her in every way. The same features, the same short-cropped hair, even the same hardened expression. The only difference is the uniform—the other Charlotte is dressed in a green jumpsuit, military but unfamiliar.
Both Charlottes speak at the same time, their voices in perfect sync. "No way."
The real Charlotte turns back to Carter, her heart pounding in her chest. "What... what the hell is this?"
Carter smiles, a calm, almost amused expression on her face. "Gunnery Sergeant, meet your doppelgänger. She's you. From another universe."
The alternate Charlotte steps forward cautiously, her eyes darting around the bay as she takes in her surroundings. She stops a few feet away from her counterpart, visibly as stunned as the original Charlotte. "I didn't think this was possible," she mutters, her voice low and almost disbelieving. "How did you—?"
"We found her," Carter interrupts smoothly, her calm demeanor betraying none of the complexity behind this revelation. "We've been researching dimensional anomalies for years. When we detected a tear in the fabric of space, we sent a team through. That's where we found her."
The two Charlottes stand in stunned silence, sizing each other up, trying to process what they are seeing. The weight of the situation presses down on them both. It's one thing to read about alternate dimensions, but to meet yourself from another reality? That's something else entirely.
The original Charlotte, still trying to wrap her head around it, points to the other Charlotte's right arm. "How do you like it?" she asks, referring to the bionic prosthetic that glints under the overhead lights.
The other Charlotte—Charlotte Sheppard, as she introduces herself—smiles, lifting the arm with pride. "It's incredible. Better than my real one."
"How does it work?" Charlotte asks, stepping closer, her curiosity momentarily overriding the shock.
"It interfaces directly with my nervous system," Sheppard explains, flexing the fingers of her bionic hand with ease. "I can move it as naturally as my original arm."
Charlotte watches in awe, feeling a mix of admiration and envy. "That's... amazing."
"It is," Sheppard agrees, lowering her arm. "It's saved my life more times than I can count. Took a while to get used to, though. The sensation can be... strange."
Before the two can continue, Carter steps in, her voice cutting through the moment. "I understand this is a lot to take in, but there's more. You've both been brought here for a reason."
Both Charlottes turn their attention back to Carter, the confusion and curiosity in their expressions mirrored perfectly.
"We've encountered a new threat," Carter explains, her tone growing serious. "Anomalies in space-time are becoming more frequent. We believe a force is intentionally destabilizing dimensional barriers, and we need both of you to work together to stop it."
Charlotte looks at Sheppard, her own doubts mirrored in her counterpart's eyes. "You want us to work together?"
"Yes," Carter confirms. "You're two sides of the same coin. Together, you can help us understand these anomalies and how to stop the forces behind them."
Sheppard crosses her arms, her skepticism evident. "And why should we trust each other? I barely know her—she's me, sure, but that doesn't mean I know her."
Carter meets Sheppard's gaze with calm authority. "Because if you don't, everything we know could be lost. You both have unique perspectives, unique experiences. The two of you working together might be our only chance."
Charlotte glances at Sheppard, her mind racing. She feels a strange connection to this alternate version of herself, as if seeing a reflection of what could have been.
After a moment, Sheppard nods slowly. "Alright. I'll work with her."
The original Charlotte nods in agreement, though her mind is still swimming with questions. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Carter smiles, her confidence in the two unmistakable. "Good. You'll be briefed more fully in the next few hours. For now, take the time to get to know each other. You'll need to trust one another for what's coming."
As Carter and Admiral Mercier leave the room, the two Charlottes stand in silence for a moment, staring at each other—two versions of the same person from two very different realities, brought together by a force neither fully understands.
"So," Charlotte says, breaking the silence, "what's it like being me?"
Sheppard grins. "Complicated."
Charlotte Burke and Charlotte Sheppard sat in an empty briefing room aboard the TFS *Orville*. The hum of the ship's systems provided a low, steady backdrop as the two women, each a mirror of the other, tried to come to terms with the impossible reality they now faced. They were from different dimensions, but their lives were eerily similar—shaped by war, loss, and the unrelenting pursuit of vengeance against an enemy that had taken everything from them.
After an awkward silence, Charlotte Sheppard finally broke the ice. "I don't know where to start," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. She looked down at her bionic right arm, flexing the mechanical fingers absentmindedly. "Maybe with him. My husband."
Charlotte Burke leaned back in her chair, instinctively touching her own bionic arm. "Anakin?"
Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. Colonel Anakin Sheppard. We served together on the *Constantine*. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission—nothing special. We'd been through worse." Her eyes darkened as she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "But we didn't expect the Berserkers. They came out of nowhere, swarming us with drones. Their ships, their technology—it was like nothing we'd ever seen. They tore through the *Constantine* like it was nothing."
Burke listened intently, recognizing the weight behind Sheppard's words. She knew that pain. She'd lived it.
"They managed to breach the hull," Sheppard continued, her gaze far away as she relived the memory. "We tried to hold them off, but it was hopeless. I was trapped in a corridor when one of the bulkheads collapsed on me. It crushed my arm." She flexed the bionic limb again, as if feeling the phantom pain of that day. "I thought I was done for. But Anakin… he wouldn't leave me. He got me to an escape pod, made sure I was safe. I begged him to come with me, but he… he stayed behind."
Burke winced, knowing exactly where the story was headed. "And that's when the ship went down?"
"Yeah," Sheppard said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Berserker drones overwhelmed the ship's defenses, and the *Constantine* was destroyed. Anakin… he didn't make it. I've been trying to find their home base ever since, but it's like chasing a ghost. Every mission I take, I hope it'll bring me closer to them. But nothing. It's all been fruitless."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Burke could feel the grief radiating off Sheppard, a grief she knew all too well. It was the same pain that had haunted her for years. She hadn't expected to bond so quickly with this alternate version of herself, but there was something about sharing such a deep, personal wound that connected them in a way words couldn't.
"I'm sorry," Burke finally said, her voice soft but sincere. "I know how much that hurts."
Sheppard turned to look at her, curiosity in her eyes. "You lost someone too?"
Burke nodded slowly. "Yeah. But I lost her to a different enemy. The Kaylon."
"The Kaylon?" Sheppard frowned, unfamiliar with the name.
"They're a race of synthetic life forms," Burke explained. "Extremely advanced AI. We didn't know they were hostile at first. They pretended to be peaceful, just machines built by a long-dead race. But they were waiting, watching. And when the time was right, they attacked." She paused, her expression hardening as the memories flooded back. "A fleet of Kaylon ships tried to invade Earth. I was on the USS Quimby when it happened."
Sheppard's eyes widened slightly. "What happened?"
Burke leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. "They wiped out half of our fleet before we even knew what hit us. We were so unprepared for that level of firepower. The Quimby; we were lucky to survive the first wave. But Amanda…" She stopped, her throat tightening at the mention of her friend's name. "She didn't."
Sheppard's gaze softened. "Amanda?"
Burke nodded, swallowing hard. "She was my friend. We served together for years, and over time… I developed feelings for her. Romantic feelings." She let out a bitter chuckle. "But I never told her. I guess I was too afraid, or maybe I thought I'd have time later. But when the Kaylon attacked, I never got the chance." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue. "Amanda was on one of the ships that got destroyed. I saw it happen. I watched her ship go up in flames. And I couldn't do anything to stop it."
Sheppard remained silent, her expression one of quiet understanding. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved and to feel helpless in the face of that loss.
"After that, I threw myself into my work," Burke said. "I didn't go out of my way to find the Kaylon and hunt them down. Instead, I stayed in my lab. I developed a weapon—something that could destroy synthetic life forms and their ships. I thought it would help me get revenge in some way, but… I don't know. It didn't bring Amanda back. It didn't make the pain go away."
Sheppard nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful. "I get that. I've spent years trying to track down the Berserkers, hoping to avenge Anakin. But the truth is, no matter how many missions I take, no matter how many drones I destroy… it doesn't change anything. He's still gone."
"Exactly," Burke said quietly. "Revenge doesn't fill the void."
For a moment, the two women sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It was a strange comfort, knowing that someone else—another version of herself, no less—had experienced the same pain, the same drive for vengeance, and had come to the same empty conclusion. It didn't bring back the people they loved. It didn't heal the scars.
After a while, Sheppard broke the silence. "So, you just stayed in your lab, working on that weapon?"
Burke shrugged. "Pretty much. I threw myself into my work, trying to make a difference in a way that didn't involve directly fighting. But… there was something else, too. Someone."
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Someone?"
"Ry'ac," Burke said, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of her lips and tilted her head towards a black man that's leaning against the wall. "That Jaffa over there." Burke continues. "He rescued me." She touched her arm, the memory still fresh in her mind. "Ry'ac pulled me out of there, got me to this ship."
"And now you've got a crush on him?" Sheppard asked, a teasing grin forming on her face.
Burke laughed softly, a rare sound given the weight of the conversation. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. He's… different. I've never really let myself get close to anyone since Amanda, but there's something about him. He's strong, but kind. I don't know, maybe it's just a distraction. Maybe it's more. I haven't figured it out yet."
Sheppard smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "At least you've found someone. That's more than I can say. Ever since Anakin died, I haven't been able to let anyone in. It's like there's this wall, and no matter how much I want to move on, I just… can't."
Burke nodded in understanding. "I get that. But maybe one day you'll find someone who can break through that wall."
Sheppard shrugged. "Maybe. But for now, I've got a war to fight."
Burke smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I know the feeling."
The two women sat in companionable silence for a few more moments, each taking comfort in the presence of someone who truly understood their pain. They had been brought together by forces beyond their control, but in a strange way, it felt like fate. They were two sides of the same coin, bound by shared experiences, and now, by a common mission.
Finally, Sheppard stood up, stretching her bionic arm as if testing its limits. "Well, I guess we'd better get to work. It sounds like we've got a lot of anomalies to deal with."
Burke nodded, standing up as well. "Yeah. And this time, we've got each other."
Sheppard grinned. "I guess that makes us double trouble, huh?"
Burke laughed. "Something like that."
As they left the briefing room together, both women felt a sense of renewed purpose. They had lost so much, but they weren't alone anymore. They had each other. And together, they would face whatever the universe—or the multiverse—threw at them.
TBC