TFS HAMMOND
DRACONIS 427, DRACONIAN SECTOR
DECEMBER 14, 2367
Charly's mind is relieved as she crosses the room, her body still warm from the orgasmic sex with Ry'ac, That's had to be the best sex she ever had. She thought to herself. But her thoughts have drifted from the sex and into the thoughts that's in the back of her mind. The Entropic Cascade failure General Samantha Carter O'Neill mentioned. Why haven't I felt it yet? She thought to herself, it's clear that being in this universe would destablize her existence over time, potentially tearing her apart. And yet, she feels fine. No spitting of herself, no disorientation. Not even the slightest sign that her molecular structure is unraveling.
The long lasting comfort of Ry'ac presence hasn't fade, but the harsh reality of the situation hits her. She was sent through the subspace rupture, burnt nearly to crisp. Their holographic doctor said it as much. And she had been covered by a strange element they couldn't identify. That element...Dysonium.
It all clicks into place now, the pieces of the puzzle that's in her mind. She had been so caught up in everything; the new universe, the people, the emotions. She had completely overlooked the obvious. Dysonium is a transuranic element native to her universe, one that doesn't even exist in this reality.
Could it be the key to why I have experience that Entropy General Samantha Carter O'Neill mention during the initial test to stabilize the rupture?
"How could I be so stupid?" Charly mutters under her breath.
She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stand up, completely naked. The cool air of the room brushes against her skin, bringing a shiver to her spine, but her mind is too focused to care. She across the room to the black robe hanging by a hook, putting it on and tying around her waist.
Ry'ac, who had been driftng off to sleep, stirs and turns towards her. "Where are you going?" He asks her groggingly.
"I need to get to medlab," Charly respond while finishing tying her robe and head out to the door.
The door slides open with a hiss, but before stepping through, she hesitates and look back at Ry'ac, whose laying on the bed shirtless. As much as she want to ravish the Jaffa again, she couldn't help but to bring him along. Without thinking, she walks back to him and leans down, giving him a long passion ladened kiss.
"You want to follow me?" Charly whispers with her lips brushing against his.
Ryan grins and swings out of bed. "Sure as hell I do." he said as he put on a blue robe and joins her by the door.
As they head towards the ship's transporter, the doors slid open, as they slid open; the doors slid closed behind them with a gentle thud. Charly stares at the console screen displaying the schematic of the ship's various decks and location.
"Computer, medlab." Charly says with a clear and direct order.
The transporter hums to life, enveloping them in a shimmering blue light. The sensation of molecular displacement is brief, and in an instant, they materialize in a new section of the ship several decks below and hundreds of meters away from their quarters.
The transporter doors slid open, to reveal the long, sterile corridor thats to the medlab. Charly steps out, Ry'ac follows closely behind her with his hand resting gently on her lower back as they walk.
When they reach the medlab, the door slides open with a soft hiss from the pneumatic piston that's in between the bulkhead. They are immediately greeted by a lab technician, with red hair and noticable scaly on his forehead. Clealy he is a half Serrakin, human who is assigned to the medlab and works the nightshift.
"Can I help you?" He asks, his flicking between Charly and Ry'ac.
"Yes," Charly says without any hesitation. "Were you able to run a diagnostics on my blood and the element I was covered in when I arrived on your ship?"
The Technician raises an eyebrow and wonders who she is. "And you are...?"
"Charly Burke."
He turns to the terminal beside him and begins typing rapidly, pulling up her file. "I have Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke and Lieutenant Command Charlotte Burke."
"It's Lieutenant Commander Charlotte Burke."
"Ah, here it is." The lab tech pulls up her file and read the files outl loud. "Not yet. The holographic doctor has not requested any further test on the element. Why?"
Charly folds her arms across her chest. "I think the dysonium that I was covered in has altered me somehow. It's the only explanation as to why I haven't experience any entropy."
The technician's finger pauses for a moment before continuing to type on the keyboard. "Dysonium? I'm not familiar with that element."
"Of course," Charly replies. "Dysonium is a transuranic element found in my universe, not here. Our ships back home; we use it as of the quantum drives for FTL."
The technician is intrigued by what she is saying but remain skeptical since he only met her moments ago. "And you believe that this dysonium has protected you? From the effects of this entropy failure...right."
"I don't know for sure," Charly admits as she starts to pace in the medlab. "But it's the only thing that makes sense. My molecular structure should be destablizing, but I feel fine. If this element somehow altered my body; if it's interacting with this universe in a way we don't understand, it could explain why I haven't felt the effects."
Ry'ac, who has been listening quietly, steps close to Charly. "If dysonium is responsible for keeping you stable, then what does that means for your future here?"
Charly stops pacing and looks at Ry'ac. "That's the question, isn't it? If it's protecting me, then how long will it last? What happens if starts to wear off?"
The technician clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him. "If you're right about this dysonium, we'll need to analyze it thoroughly. I'll have to run advance molecular scans to determine how it's interacting with your cells."
Charly nods as she sighs after feeling a mix of relief. "Do whatever you have to."
"I'll run some preliminary scans." The lab technician says and keying in commands. "I need to get official authorization from a superior officer or your doctor."
"Fine," Charly huffs, she got irritated and everyone can see it. "I'll get General Carter"
Charly clenches her fist, her fustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Fine. I'll get General Samantha Carter O'Neill authorization." She says as she walks toward the communication station that's on the wall.
Ry'ac who has been silent until now, steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. His gentle touch grounding her in the moment before she presses the button. A low hum vibrates through her fingertips, signaling the connection.
"Computer, contact General Samantha Carter O'Neill."
The computer chimes, it's feminine disembodied voice spoke through the speaker. "Patching you through now."
A flicker of static, and then the image of General Samantha Carer O'Neill appears on the communication screen. The stern, sharp intelligence in her blue eyes still as intimidating as ever. She is in uniform, and behind her is ship's Operations in the background.
"Burke?" Carter said "It's late. What's going on?"
"Charlie takes a deep breath. "General, I need authorization to run some test on the element I exposed to when I crossed into your universe."
"What kind of element?"
"Dysonium."
"Dysonium, I never heard of that element." Carter replied as her brow furrows.
"I wouldn't expect you to, ma'am. It doesn't exist in this universe." Charly said.
"You have my authorization." Samatha said as she continues. "I'm in a meeting with the Joint Chiefs, once the meeting done, I will be at Medlab." Samantha said as she cut the line, as her image flickers off the screen.
A few minutes later, the door to the medlab slides open with a soft hiss, and General Samantha Carter O'Neill steps inside.
"What's going on?" She ask as she scans the room before settling on the lab tech and Ry'ac.
"We believe the element that Charly was covered in when she arrived; Dysonium might be protecting her from the entropic cascade failure," Ry'ac says, stepping aside so the General can approach the workstation.
The lab technician gestures toward the screen, which flickers to life with the holographic projection of an alien periodic table. Unlike anything seen before, this version incorporates unknown elements and peculiar symbols; some familiar, most entirely foreign. The chart is filled with new elements, each place in it's unique abstract position, like a puzzle not meant for this universe's understanding.
The DYsonium symbol; an intricate, glowing glyph stands out, pulsating softly as the molecular structure analysis continues. The holographic projected digital representation of atoms swirling perfect orbit, forming complex fields, far densar than any element Samantha has ever seen.
"This is...astonishing," Carter breathes, stepping closer to inspect the data. "I've studied transuranic elements like plutonium and uranium before, but this? It doesn't belong here, it shouldn't even exist in this universe."
"The scans show it's been fused to her DNA. It's the only thing keeping her stable." Ry'ac cuts in.
The Technician nods but more curious. "And that's not all, General. The Dysonium hasn't just fused to her DNA, it's somehow interacting with her ATA Gene. It's like it's stablizing her genetic code, reinforcing it."
Samantha Carter eyes widen. "Her Ancient Gene? That changes everything."
At that moment the holographic doctor shimmers next to the lab tech, flickering to life with his usual suave demeanor. "Ah, General Samantha Carter, Charly, Ry'ac," he says, acknowledging everyone in the room. "I've been keeping close eye on Charly's condition since she arrived. I ran initial molecular scans aboard the Okinawa before I was unceremoniously dismissed by Captain Leyton," he adds with a dramatic sigh, clearly displeased.
"Ill have a word with Captain Leyton about his...behavior later. For now, what's the situation, Doctor."
The holographic doctor brightens, his virtual hands moving to conjure a 3D image of Charly's DNA structure, now interwoven with strands of dysonium. The image shows glowing threads of energy wrapping around the genetic code, reinforcing the bonds between them. "As you can see," the doctor begins, Charly's DNA has been dramatically altered."
"Altered," Charly said. "How?"
"The dysonium and her..." The doctor looks at Charly. "Your ATA gene have formed a symbiotic relationship. The element isn't just stablizing you, it's enhancing you."
"Enhancing?" General Carter and Charly both said in unison and raises her eyebrow.
Indeed," The Doctor continues, his voice filled with clinical enthusiasm to what he discovered. "Not only is she completely protected from the Entropy, but the dysonium appears to have slowed her aging process. I ran additonal simulations basee on the data, and it looks like she could easily live to be over 1,000 years old. Possibly longer, assuming no outside interference."
Charly, who have been observing the conversation steps forward, she couldn't believe to what she is hearing. "A thousand years? THat's impossible."
"Oh, contraire Lieutenant Commander." The Doctor said. "There are species in this universe that lives almost a thousand years."
"Like the Goa'uld." Carter replied.
The Doctor shakes his head and chuckles. The dysonium is interacting with your ATA gene in a way we've never seen before. It's triggered a series of biological enhancement that have increased your cellular regeneration capabilities. You'll age, but at a fraction of the normal rate." He pauses, then adds with a wry smile, "Oh, and it seems to have also stimulated your libido. You could, theoretically, have a very active family life, sex life...if you so choose."
Charly blinks, clearly taken aback by the particular revelation, but General Carter cuts in before the conversation drifts too far off course. "And what about her ability to travel between universes? Can she move through the subspace ruptures wihtout suffering any ill effects?"
The doctor nods confidently. "Yes. The dysonium has essentially shielded her from the destructive effects of interdimensional travel. She could traverse the rupture again without any danger of destabilizing."
General Samantha Carter O'Neill takes a deep breath, absorbing the information. She glances at Charly, who stands there, silent, her mind processing everything that's been said. A thousand years of life. Stabilized in a universe that isn't hers. No risk of entropy. But what kind of existence would that be? The universe she comes from still exists, her home, her people. Yet, this place has offered her more than she could've imagined, despite the strange circumstances.
Ry'ac, sensing her inner conflict, steps beside her, placing a hand gently in her arm.
Charly looks up at him, her thoughts swirling. The decision before her are monumental. She could stay in this universe, with Ry'ac by her side and potential future she hadn't though possible. But the other universe calls to her, her responsibilities, her unfinished battles. There's a war brewing in her own galaxy, and part of her knows she can't just abandon.
Samantha Carter O'Neill, reading the indecision on Charly's face, speaks up. "You're not bound in this place, Charly. With your unique condition, you have options now. You can go back to your universe if you choose, if we are able to synthesize the element that can stabilize the rupture of course. If you stay, you'd be a valuable asset here and the Director's job at STAR (Strategic Tactical Astrometric Research) well, it's not for me to say." Carter says with wry smile. But I'd say you've got more than enough qualifications."
Charly blinks, the weight of the offer settling in her chest, Director of STAR? It wasn't the first time the position had come up. Carter had mention it before, but now, with her newfound abilities, the offer seemed even more real, more immediate. She'd have the chance to stay in this universe, to take a leadership role in one of the most critical institutions in the galaxy under the Tau'ri Federation's Ministry of Defense's Science Division under the Strategic Command.
"There's unfinished business in my universe that I need to take care of." Charly said.
Carter smiles as she places a hand on Charly's arm. "You certainly don't have to figure everything out right now." She pauses, glancing down at her watch. The glowing display reads 0130 hours. "In fact," she says with a dry chuckle, "It's far too late for making life changing decisions. Let's save that for the morning."
Charly nods, though the turmoil inside her hasn't fully settled. Still, she approaches Carter's understanding. The General had always had a way of putting people at ease, of making even the most impossible situations feel manageable.
GENERAL SAMANTHA CARTER O'NEILL QUARTERS
General Samantha Carter O'Neill steps quietly into her living quarters aboard the Hammond, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her shoulders. The low hum of the ship's systems echoes faintly, providing a familiar and comforting backdrop to the silence. She slips off her boots first, savoring the brief moment of respite before moving further into the room. As the door slides shut behind her, the room feels like a sanctuary—a temporary escape from the endless responsibilities that come with her title.
Being in charge of both the Ministry of Science and the Ministry of Defense is an honor she still carries with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. As chairman of the Supreme Defense Council, she is constantly caught between the needs of the Tau'ri Federation, the intricacies of scientific discovery, and the pressing demands of intergalactic defense. Appointed by President Galen Kilpatrick and approved by Parliament in 2359, she'd known it wouldn't be easy. But sometimes, the burden feels heavier than she expected.
Samantha begins to disrobe, her fingers working through the familiar motions of unfastening her uniform. The soft fabric slides from her shoulders, a weight lifted off her—at least physically. She hangs it up carefully, a habit drilled into her by years of military discipline. The cool air hits her bare skin, a welcome change from the constant pressure she feels while in uniform. As she moves quietly across the room, Johann stirs beneath the covers, his movements slow and deliberate as he comes to.
"Samantha?" Johann Elbes, her husband, opens his eyes, his voice thick with sleep. His gaze meets hers, and a soft smile pulls at his lips as he sits up slightly. His dark hair is tousled, and the faint lines around his eyes are a reminder of the battles they've faced together. "Late night?"
She offers a small smile in return, feeling the warmth of his presence immediately ease some of her tension. "You could say that." She slips into the comfort of her robe, tightening the sash around her waist as she crosses over to the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," he replies, his voice still gravelly but filled with concern. Johann sits up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he reaches for her hand. "Long day?"
Samantha sighs, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. "Just the usual… if you consider dealing with dimensional anomalies and political maneuvering 'usual.'" She leans back slightly, running a hand through her blonde hair as she lets herself relax for the first time in hours.
"Anything new with Charly Burke?" Johann asks, always in tune with her, knowing that the situation with Charly has been a point of stress.
"She's stable," Samantha begins, her mind racing back to the conversation in the medlab. "The dysonium that covered her when she crossed over—it's fused with her DNA. It's protecting her from the entropic cascade failure, altering her biology in ways we don't fully understand yet. She won't suffer the same fate as most dimensional travelers."
Johann nods slowly, absorbing the information. "That's good news, though, right?"
"It is," she agrees, but her voice carries a note of hesitation. "But the implications of that… it changes everything. The dysonium, the Ancient gene, even her aging process has slowed. This could be the key to stable interdimensional travel or something far more dangerous if mishandled. The possibilities are endless, and not all of them are good."
"You always do this," Johann says softly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You find a solution, and then you start thinking about all the worst-case scenarios."
Samantha chuckles lightly, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Someone has to."
He wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. "And that's why you're in charge. Of everything, apparently."
She laughs at that, the tension easing slightly. "Yeah, well, being appointed to head both the Ministry of Science and the Ministry of Defense wasn't exactly what I expected. But President Kilpatrick wanted someone who could see the big picture. Guess that means I never get a break."
"That's because you're the best at what you do," Johann says earnestly. "Parliament knew what they were doing when they approved your appointment. And the Supreme Defense Council needs someone like you—someone who can balance science and strategy."
Samantha's smile fades slightly as the enormity of her role settles back over her. Being the head of both ministries and the chairperson of the Supreme Defense Council is a monumental task. Every decision she makes ripples through the Federation, impacting not just their current alliances and security but the future of exploration, defense, and survival in an increasingly complex universe.
"You make it sound so easy," she murmurs, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his hand.
"You make it look easy," Johann counters, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. "But I know it's not."
Samantha turns to look at him, her expression softening. Johann is one of the few people who truly understands the weight of her responsibilities. He's been her partner, her confidant, her steady rock amidst the chaos of galactic politics and scientific discovery. Their marriage wasn't just a partnership of love; it was a merging of two lives devoted to the defense and advancement of the Federation.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," she admits, her voice quiet but full of sincerity. "Sometimes I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the universe."
Johann's smile is warm, reassuring. "You don't have to carry it alone. You've got me, your team, and the entire Federation behind you. And you're more than capable of handling it."
She leans into him, allowing herself to relax in his embrace. The scent of him, the familiar feel of his arms around her—it's a comfort she rarely allows herself to fully embrace during the day, when she's constantly in motion, constantly solving one crisis after another.
"I just worry about making the right decisions," she confesses. "Especially with things like Charly's situation. There's so much we don't know, and every choice I make feels like it could tip the balance one way or another."
"And you will make the right decisions," Johann assures her. "Because you're you. And if anyone can handle the complexities of this universe, it's General Samantha Carter O'Neill."
She lets out a soft laugh, her fingers brushing over the small pendant around her neck—a tiny silver gate, a symbol of her connection to her ancestors, to the legacy of exploration and discovery that began with Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill. It's a legacy she's proud of, but one that comes with a heavy burden. Sometimes, the expectations of living up to that legacy feel overwhelming.
"I guess they wouldn't have appointed me if they didn't think I could handle it," she says, half-joking.
"Exactly," Johann grins, shifting so that he can look her directly in the eyes. "They knew they had the best person for the job. And no matter what happens, you'll face it head-on, just like you always do."
Samantha smiles at him, feeling the weight on her shoulders lighten, if only slightly. There's still so much to be done—debriefs in the morning, new data to analyze, strategies to develop—but for now, in this quiet moment, she allows herself to simply be. To rest.
"I guess I'd better try to get some sleep," she says, though she doesn't move from his embrace just yet.
"Sleep would be good," Johann agrees, though his tone is teasing. "You've got a galaxy to save in the morning."
She laughs softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling into the bed beside him. As she lays her head on the pillow, Johann's arm draped protectively over her, she closes her eyes and lets the hum of the Hammond lull her into a much-needed rest.
Tomorrow, the universe will still be there. And she'll be ready for whatever it throws at her.
TFS AVALON
As soon as Gunnery Sergeant Charlotte Burke rematerialized aboard the TFS Avalon, she took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of her old ship ground her. The ship's sterile atmosphere was a stark contrast to the chaotic day she had spent with her doppelgänger. Despite the surreal experience, the Avalon felt like home—a small sanctuary amid the swirling confusion of her life.
"Captain," she greeted as she stepped off the transporter pad, saluting Captain Sa'ed Hamid, the ship's commanding officer.
"At ease, Sergeant," Captain Hamid responded with a small nod. His sharp British accent contrasted with his origins. He was from New Marrakesh in the Perseus Arms. The colonist dubbed it Moroccan system, 20,000 light years from Earth. Founded by Muslim countries fleeing the authoritarian regimes of Earth's past, New Marrakesh had flourished into a vibrant planetary civilization within the Federation.
"I didn't expect the Avalon to be here," Charlotte said, lowering her hand.
"You can thank General Carter for that," Captain Hamid replied. "He prioritized the repairs and ordered us to the Draconian Sector."
"What are our orders?" Charlotte asked.
"We're on standby for now," Captain Hamid replied, his tone calm. "But someone left you a package—it's waiting for you in your quarters."
Charlotte's brow furrowed. "A package? Who from?"
Hamid chuckled. "Not for me to pry. But after you left Asura 2, a woman in a Cerberus uniform was asking about you."
Cerberus. The name was enough to send a chill down Charlotte's spine. Officially a private think tank, the galaxy at large had no idea Cerberus operated its own shadow army, conducting covert operations that often blurred the lines of morality. Their interest in her could only mean one thing—trouble.
"Thank you, sir," Charlotte said, her mind already preoccupied with what this package could mean. She gave another salute and turned to leave.
Captain Hamid's voice trailed after her. "I was briefed on your doppelgänger. It's not every day the Tau'ri Federation encounters people from alternate universes."
Charlotte gave him a half-hearted nod, distracted by the growing sense of unease settling in her stomach. "Rest up," Hamid added as she disappeared down the corridor.
The moment she stepped into her quarters, her eyes were drawn to a framed photograph on her dresser. It was her wedding picture—John's arm wrapped around her, both of them smiling as if the galaxy weren't constantly on the brink of destruction. She sighed, the ache of missing him nearly unbearable.
But there was something more urgent demanding her attention. A small, metal box rested on the corner of her dresser—the package. With trembling hands, Charlotte opened the box and found a single item inside: a data crystal. Her breath caught in her throat as she carefully placed it on the holo-scanner and activated her pad.
The holographic interface blinked to life, and a video began to play.
At first, the screen was filled with static, but after a few seconds, a clear image appeared—a dimly lit room filled with medical equipment. Charlotte's heart pounded in her chest as the camera zoomed in on a figure lying on a surgical table.
It was John.
His body lay still, unmoving, as figures in lab coats surrounded him. They worked methodically, inserting needles and attaching equipment to his limp form. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't conscious either. The sight of him in that state was too much to bear.
Charlotte's hands flew to her mouth, and before she realized it, tears were streaming down her face. "What the hell is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her mind reeled, searching for some explanation. She had seen him die—on the Constantine—saving her life. And yet, here he was, alive but not, subjected to what looked like an experiment.
She paused the video, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to regain control. The sight of him on that table, being treated like an object—it was unbearable.
But she needed answers.
Steeling herself, Charlotte resumed the video. The footage showed the lab technicians performing a series of invasive procedures on John's body—injecting substances, taking tissue samples, running scans. Words like "reanimation protocol," "augmentation," and "subject stability" appeared briefly in the readouts, only adding to her confusion.
"This is impossible," Charlotte whispered. "What are they doing to you, John?"
Her thoughts raced. This had to be Cerberus. No other organization had the means—or the audacity—to conduct such experiments. But what were they trying to achieve? And how had they obtained John's body in the first place?
The video continued, showing John's unresponsive body enduring more tests and treatments, his vitals displayed on various monitors. Charlotte felt the walls closing in around her. Her husband—her John—was supposed to be dead. She had mourned him, accepted his loss. But now, this...
She fell to her knees, the weight of the realization crushing her. Tears fell freely as the images of the experiment continued to play in her mind, even after she stopped the video. John's lifeless body, being poked and prodded, as if he were nothing more than a tool.
The pain hit her like a tidal wave. She had already lost him once—now, she was losing him all over again, in a way she could never have imagined.
Suddenly, the chime of her comm unit cut through the suffocating silence. Captain Hamid's voice came through, steady and formal. "Sergeant Burke, we've received new orders. Briefing at 0800 aboard the Orville."
Charlotte didn't respond immediately, her body still trembling from the shock of what she had just seen. But duty called, and there was no time to fall apart. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, forcing herself to stand.
But as she headed for the door, a burning rage settled deep inside her. Cerberus had crossed a line. They had taken her husband and twisted his sacrifice into something monstrous. Whatever the briefing aboard the Orville held, Charlotte knew one thing for sure—she wouldn't rest until she got to the bottom of this.
Until she made them pay.