14. Aurora


  

  The vast curve of Earth filled the forward viewscreen of the Chekov, a brilliant blue-and-white jewel suspended against the velvet black of space. The station-keeping thrusters of the new Endurance class destroyer, fired in tiny bursts as it maintained its orbit, giving SG-1 a rare moment of quiet observation.

  "I don’t care how many times I see it," Vala murmured, her arms crossed over her chest, "it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on."

  Daniel, standing beside her, smiled faintly. "Yeah," he said, his voice carrying that familiar note of quiet reverence. "Never gets old."

  Sam, positioned near the navigation console, glanced back at them. "It’s different when you come back after a long time away. It always feels like a homecoming."

  Teal’c inclined his head. "Indeed."

  A chime sounded through the bridge, and Captain Kovacs turned from his command chair. "SG-1, General Landry requests your immediate presence at Stargate Command."

  Mitchell clapped his hands together. "Well, folks, back to work. Let’s not keep the boss waiting."

  Moments later, the familiar golden hue of an Asgard transporter engulfed them, and when it faded, they were suddenly standing in the middle of the SGC briefing room. The transition was abrupt enough that Walter Harriman nearly dropped the stack of red-and-green napkins he had been arranging on the conference table.

  "Oh!" he exclaimed, steadying himself against a chair. "Colonel Carter, you could warn a guy."

  General Hank Landry looked up from where he was adjusting a small Christmas wreath on the wall. He smiled at the sight of his returning team. "Welcome home, SG-1. Just in time to help us set up."

  Vala tilted her head. "A party? I do love a good party."

  Walter, still regaining his composure, gave her a wry look. "It’s the SGC Christmas party. Less wild, more ‘paperwork-approved social gathering with finger foods.’

  "Oh," she sighed dramatically. "Pass."

  Landry chuckled and turned to Sam. "Colonel Carter, Jack’s looking for you. If you hurry, you’ll catch him heading toward the base café."

  Sam’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "Thanks, sir. I’ll track him down."

  As she exited, Landry’s expression shifted to something more serious. "We need to talk about Vegema."

  Daniel folded his arms, already anticipating the discussion. "What’s the latest?"

  “You’ll find out soon enough Doctor Jackson.” Hank told him. His expression as usual unreadable.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Daniel added some tinsel to the tree, then wandered off to find Teal’c and Colonel Mitchell.

  Meanwhile, in a secure communications room elsewhere in the base, Cameron Mitchell and Teal’c were engaged in a video conference with Colonel Harry Parnell. The man on the screen was broad-shouldered with a roguish grin, the kind of officer who could fly anything with wings and still make it look easy. He had been one of Mitchell’s wingmen back in his F-16 days, and now, he was the commanding officer of the Tau’ri’s newest warship: Aurora.

  "So, Cam, how soon can you get yourselves over to Arizona?" Parnell asked, leaning forward slightly.

  "That depends," Mitchell said. "How big of a deal is this new ride of yours?"

  Parnell scoffed. "Mitchell, it’s a game-changer. She’s got the punch of three Daedalus-class, but with an integrated drone complement, improved Asgard beam tech, and a hyperspace window generator that puts her in a league of her own. This ship’s gonna turn the tide."

  Cam blinked. "Okay, I understood about half of that. Let’s get real technical. Carter’s not here, so now’s the time."

  Parnell grinned. "Alright. Modular deployment through hangars, triple-redundant shield grid, secondary naqadria reactors for sustained fire of beam weapons, plus an expanded F-302 squadron bay with mag-cat launch assist. We’re talking first-in, last-out capability."

  A slight knock on the door, Teal’c opened it to find Daniel standing there.

  “What have I missed?” He asked.

  “I believe Colonel Mitchell is getting a lesson in science.” The big man had a knowing expression on his face. Not one that Daniel could read though. He went back to stand at Mitchell’s side.

  Cam stared blankly. "...And in English?"

  Teal’c raised an eyebrow. "He wishes to know if it is ‘good.’"

  Parnell laughed. "Hell yeah. You’re gonna love it. And did I say she was huge?"

  Cam grinned. "No, you didn’t.” He looked around at Daniel and Teal’c. “Then I guess we better get ourselves to Arizona."

  “Indeed.” Teal’c intoned deeply.

  Sam walked side by side with General O’Neill, she just wanted to hug him, feel his arms around her. And while it wasn’t a secret, they were a couple, on the base it was always business. They’d have their time. “So, how is our girl doing Sam?” He asked as he held the café door open for her.

  Sam sighed. “Great... if we can find her. As far as we know, she’s alive and kicking.”

  Jack smirked. “Sounds about right.”

  She glanced at him. “How did you know Cate would make a great addition to the Stargate Program?”

  Jack leaned against the wall; arms crossed. “I met her dad back in ‘84. We were both on a joint services staff course in Nevada. Australia was still hoping to turn things around with their carriers, so they kept sending their best pilots to train with us. Will Hamilton was one of ‘em. Hell of a pilot. One of the best I ever saw.”

  Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Did you ever meet Cate back then?”

  “Yeah, once. Doubt she’d remember. She was just a little kid, running around the base, probably getting into trouble.” Jack chuckled. “Like father, like daughter.”

  “He was something of a handful then, would you say?” Sam was keen on learning more about Cate, she knew the selection process often fell back to her. It was the one job, apart from the joint command of SG-1 with Cam, she really enjoyed doing and wasn’t about to hand it over.

  Jack was pensive for a moment, he said nothing for quite a while. He pulled a chair out for Sam and as soon as she was seated, he sat opposite her. “This was his second staff course. A year earlier he was on a local course in Canberra. Will didn’t get along too well with one of the lecturers, so badly, he decked him during a verbal exchange. His navy stood him down for six months to cool off.”

  “Wow!” Sam was intrigued. If Will had been in US service, he’d get more than a standing down.

  “So, enough about the father. I’m more interested in how the younger MacGregor is doing.” He leaned on one elbow, that old inquisitive look on his face Sam knew so well.

  It took about five seconds for Sam to gather her thoughts. “Belligerent, she has little regard for authority. Head strong, reckless. She’s devoted to the people she leads sir, but she doesn’t hesitate to say what she thinks. In a few words, she is difficult.” There was another angle to this, Sam had to add. “I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d choose to do those jobs most of us would baulk at.”

  “I think what she is going through now Sam, is going to smooth over some of those rough edges. We’ve made the right choice.” He wasn’t asking for an opinion on that, his mind was made up. “Within the next few months, I want her with Ovcharenko on SG-4, whether Cate wants it or not. Make it happen Sam.” Jack wasn’t much different to their subject of conversation. Once his mind was made up, he was an immovable object.

  Sam leaned back in the chair, she mused over a few things that had been said. Knowing him all these years, she knew a lot of his assessment on Cate, was based on himself. Back in 97 when she first met him. She knew he was trying to be objective, and at the same time she knew it was hard for him not to draw on comparisons. “We can only try sir.”

  “Good.” He nodded sharply. “Now Sam, I visited Dick Hudson down at the Academy Hospital, he’s doing well, and you can relay that to his crew. But how is ‘Legs’ doing?”

  “Legs?” Sam screwed her nose, what has he been drinking. She had to rub her forehead before she realised with a chuckle what Jack was talking about. “You mean Elle? Where on Earth did Legs come from?” Now she was curious.

  The general gave her an innocent look. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat and grinned. “Elle was in Mitchell’s squadron over Antarctica, that was her callsign. I mean you must have noticed.”

  “Noticed what?” She thought some callsigns made no sense at all.

  Jack placed his hand over his forehead, in a typical face-palm moment. He sighed deeply before answering, a flush of heat filled his face for a moment. “You’d have to be a guy.”

  Then it struck her, Sam laughed heartily, now she knew. “Well, yes sir I can see where that might have come from. In answer to your question, she’s doing fine, and I wouldn’t change a thing. The transition from Captain Hudson’s command to Elle’s was as smooth as you might expect. If you’re thinking anyone needs replacing, I’d have someone take over her role as CAG.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “That easy huh?” Jack already knew who he wanted.

  “Yessir.” Sam told him, her mind following a similar track to his. “Lily Radovic?”

  “Give her a call.” He stopped for a second or two. “Didn’t MacGregor take Lily down during a training exercise?”

  “She did sir. If it were live rounds, Colonel Radovic’s F-16 would have been wallpaper in that valley. The gun camera film from Cate’s 302 was… interesting, as was the audio from the flight.” Her smile said she was laughing and the only reason she wasn’t laughing aloud was because a few enlisted were wandering into the café. Sam looked at her watch, it was 10:00 hours, ‘Stand Easy’

  Jack leaned back in his chair. He thought for a moment they should change their decision. But then he said just barely above a whisper. “Screw it, they can work it out for themselves.”

  Arizona

  The roar of the C-130’s engines was a constant backdrop as SG-1 and Jack O’Neill settled in for the flight from Peterson Air Base to Luke AFB. The cargo bay’s usual spartan accommodations did little to encourage conversation. Daniel and Teal’c appeared to be asleep—Teal’c in his usual meditative state, Daniel slouched awkwardly against some cargo netting. Vala and Sam sat near one of the small porthole windows, chatting quietly.

  Up front, Cameron Mitchell and Jack O’Neill had made their way into the cockpit. The pilot, a grizzled Air Force captain, glanced at Jack with a knowing smirk and offered, “Care to take her for a spin, General?”

  Jack, never one to turn down a bit of nostalgia, slid into the seat with a practiced ease. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Two and a half hours later, the plane touched down at Luke AFB. The team disembarked via the rear ramp, stepping out into the dry heat of Arizona. A black Humvee idled nearby, an Air Force Security Forces airman at the wheel.

  The drive took them off the main highway, skirting along a long security fence before they reached a heavily guarded checkpoint. After a brief exchange of credentials, the Humvee continued past a large hangar, cresting a small hill. What lay beyond made even the most seasoned members of SG-1 pause.

  Resting in a natural valley, the massive bulk of the Aurora stretched across the landscape like a steel titan.

  “Holy—” Cam whistled low. “That is one big ship.”

  “That’s what she said,” Vala muttered.

  Jack ignored the comment, hands on his hips as he surveyed the vessel.

  Daniel narrowed his eyes at the name emblazoned across the hull. “‘UNS Aurora?’ Since when do our ships have ‘UNS’ in front of them?”

  Jack exhaled. “Since they became, you know, not just ours. Forty-plus nations built this thing, and more are signing on every day.”

  Daniel huffed. “Didn’t we build it?”

  Jack turned to him with a deadpan expression. “Nope. We signed the checks. They built it.”

  Vala perked up. “And ‘Aurora’ because…?”

  Jack shrugged. “Honouring our own ancient origins.”

  A new voice cut in from their left. “You’ll want to follow me.”

  The speaker was a petite brunette in an Air Force flight suit. Despite her diminutive stature, she carried herself with absolute authority.

  “First Lieutenant Candice Harper,” she introduced herself. “Welcome to the Aurora. If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you across.”

  She turned sharply on her heel, leading them toward a long gangway that spanned the valley from its rim to the central superstructure of the ship. As they walked, she rattled off specifications in a crisp, no-nonsense tone.

  “She’s 1.4 kilometres long, 900 metres wide between the two outboard hangars, and stands at 20 metres in height—20 levels in total. Thanks to recent advancements, our power generation space is half that of the Daedalus-class, freeing up room for expanded aircraft capacity and personnel. Rail guns have a higher loading speed, shielding is 50% stronger, and the four Asgard ION beams operate on independent power modules, preventing them from draining the main grid.”

  Cam leaned toward Jack, whispering, “She’s got a gorgeous bu...”

  Jack gave him a pointed look. “I wouldn’t.”

  Harper either didn’t hear or chose to ignore them, leading the group through the ship’s entrance and toward the transport system. The passageways had a strategic, methodical design, and Teal’c noted the defensive positioning at every junction.

  “Impressive,” the Jaffa rumbled. “Any attempt at boarding would result in a kill zone at each intersection.”

  Harper gave a sharp nod. “That was the idea.”

  They stepped into a transport pod, a human-engineered equivalent to Atlantis’ systems. Harper explained, “This is the travelator. Unlike its predecessor, it moves in all directions—vertical, horizontal, and lateral.”

  The pod hummed as it took them down to one of the massive hangar bays. As the doors opened, Cam let out another appreciative whistle.

  The hangar stretched far beyond what they’d seen in previous Earth-built ships. Rows of gleaming F-302E fighters lined the deck, their sleek profiles unmistakably designed for high-speed dogfighting. Near them, the bulkier F-302G models, purpose-built for electronic warfare, sat in neat formations.

  Cam’s eyes widened with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. “Oh, now we’re talking.”

  Harper gestured toward the massive structure at the rear of the hangar deck. “All primary engines are housed in a single large casing on the stern, allowing through-deck hangars like those found on the Endurance-class destroyers. Currently, she carries 90 F-302s and 20 A/C-402s, but her configuration is flexible.”

  As they stepped back into the travelator, Harper directed them toward the bridge.

  When they arrived, a stocky, balding redhead in an Air Force uniform was waiting, an easy smile on his face.

  “Colonel Harry Parnell...Cam long time buddy.” he introduced himself, shaking Cam’s hand with familiarity. “Hope you all packed a toothbrush. We leave within the hour.”

  Mitchell grasped his old buddy's hand with both of his. "Too long, we'll talk soon."

  Jack sighed. “You just love saying dramatic things like that, don’t you?” That was at Parnell.

  Parnell grinned. “Gotta keep up appearances General.”

  Thirty minutes before departure, the USS Aurora stood bathed in the glow of floodlights, a monolithic titan poised for the stars. The valley that had hidden her construction now served as the launching ground for Earth's most ambitious warship. Within the ship’s command centre, Brigadier General Abe Ellis, former commander of the USS Apollo, awaited the final go-ahead. This was no ordinary vessel; it was Earth's new flagship, the first of its class. By 2025, she would be one of four Aurora-class battle-carriers leading four fleets, each a testament to Earth’s rising power among the stars.

  Each fleet would comprise an Aurora-class flagship (BB-320), two Daedalus-class battle-cruisers, four Endurance-class destroyers (DD-100), and up to eight newly designed frigates currently under construction. Supporting them, four multi-role ships could be converted from freight carriers to troop transports or hospital vessels as needed. Humanity was no longer merely defending itself—it was waging a war on its own terms.

  As launch procedures commenced, the ship’s massive vertical thrusters roared to life. Outside, the desert floor trembled. Dust plumes curled into the air as the Aurora lifted from its anchorage, a behemoth ascending with effortless grace.

  Ellis and Colonel Harry Parnell stood at the primary observation deck, overlooking the departure. Parnell, ever the easy-going veteran, watched with the same childlike awe as Cameron Mitchell.

  “The Chekov will be our escort,” Ellis informed them, arms crossed. “SG-1, your gear is already being beamed aboard.”

  At that exact moment, a yelp rang out through the comms.

  “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BRA?!”

  Vala Mal Doran stormed into the bridge, waving a singed scrap of pink lace between her fingers. Behind her, a bespectacled civilian scientist—who couldn’t have been older than twenty-five—held up his hands in defence.

  “Technically, the quantum reassembly process…”

  “You melted my Victoria’s Secret!”

  The young scientist adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses. “There are no refunds, but I will fix it.”

  The bridge burst into laughter as Vala muttered something in Goa’uld about revenge.

  Meanwhile, Jack O’Neill prepared to depart. The farewell was brief but not without meaning. He’d leave in an older F-302B, a nod to how far they had come. He and SG-1 exchanged their usual quips, though there was something unspoken beneath it all. With a lazy salute, he climbed into the rear cockpit and was gone.

  Back on the bridge, Mitchell ran a hand through his hair, still overwhelmed by the scale of the ship.

  “I can’t get over how big this thing is,” he muttered.

  Teal’c, standing with his usual composed demeanour, observed the tactical displays. “While it is still smaller than a Ha’tak, its space is used with greater efficiency. It would outgun a Goa’uld vessel with ease.”

  Ellis and Parnell nodded in agreement.

  “As of now,” Ellis stated, “we’re taking on 5,000 troops. Infantry, armour, commandos—the best from every Stargate Alliance partner nation.”

  The roster was impressive: British Royal Marine Commandos, US Army Rangers, Navy SEALs, Dutch Commandos, a Danish artillery battalion, a German armoured division, Australian Commandos, and more. They would be beamed aboard as the Aurora passed over each respective nation, picking up its warriors as she left Earth’s atmosphere.

  The final moment before departure belonged to Ellis. The general activated the ship-wide PA system, his voice reverberating through bulkheads, corridors, and hangars. All across the ship, soldiers and officers paused in their preparations, eyes turning to screens mounted throughout the vessel.

  “Many of you have faced the Lucian Alliance before,” Ellis began, his voice steady and deliberate. “You’ve seen the chaos they bring—the terror they spread. They are not an enemy we can ignore. They have designs on Earth, and if we allow them to gain more ground, they will come knocking at our doorstep.”

  The screens cut to real-time images from intelligence reports: planets left in ruin; entire cities razed by the Alliance’s brutality.

  “This war is far from home but make no mistake—it is our war.” His gaze swept the bridge, landing on SG-1. “And we will end it.”

  Across the ship, grim faces hardened with resolve. Soldiers finished checking weapons, sealing gear, and bracing for what lay ahead.

  Then, the first hail came in. A Jaffa emblem appeared on-screen. It was Bra’tac.

  “General Ellis,” the old warrior greeted, his eyes gleaming with approval. “We stand with you.”

  Three Free Jaffa Hat’aks flanked the Aurora, each carrying 1,000 Jaffa warriors.

  Mitchell leaned back in his chair; arms crossed with a smirk. “Well, that’ll help even the odds.”

  The ship accelerated, piercing the veil of Earth’s atmosphere. The battle ahead awaited, but for the first time, the Lucian Alliance wasn’t just facing a fight.

  They were facing the full strength of Earth’s might.

  The little bridge

  As the mighty warship and her escorts leave the solar system, heading toward Vegema at full speed, another pivotal moment unfolds elsewhere in the galaxy.

  The air was thick with tension as Darlen moved cautiously across the wooden bridge. The quiet thrum of his pulse was the only thing he could hear, every step feeling like a lifetime as the old timbers creaked underfoot. His breath came in shallow, controlled bursts, his mind racing through the plan he had constructed in desperation.

  The guards at the far side didn’t immediately notice him, their attention on the distant river, the sound of the river’s rush masking his approach. Darlen steadied himself, forced himself to focus.

  “Casille Bracna, Lieutenant Vienten. It’s Darlen.” His voice was hoarse but steady. “I’m the last survivor from the train disaster.”

  The response came swiftly, and not as he’d hoped. The tall man with the scar on his face took a few steps forward, eyes narrowing, suspicion rising.

  “Liar,” the guard spat. “You’re just trying to play us.”

  Darlen's heart sank. But he didn’t falter. He pressed on. “I swear to you, it’s me. Darlen. With the 47th, out of Plaxia.”

  The hesitation was brief, but it was enough. The guard squinted, then blinked, and recognition flickered. “Wait… Darlen? You’re alive?”

  Darlen’s chest tightened with relief, but it didn’t last. He could feel the pressure rising, the remaining guards still suspicious, unsure. He was five meters away from them now, and that’s when he noticed something—something moving in the snow covered bushes behind the group. His eyes darted toward it, and before he could react, a voice called out, cutting through the tension like a knife.

  “Drop your weapons!”

  The guards froze, turning to the sound, confusion flashing in their eyes. From the dense underbrush, James and his group of twenty young soldiers in white camouflage stepped into view, rifles raised in unison, their movements sharp and decisive.

  Darlen’s breath caught in his throat as he felt some connect to the young man at the forefront, though he hadn’t met him before. James’s gaze locked on Darlen, but he didn't wait for introductions.

  “Now,” James barked. “I said drop your weapons!”

  The guards, outgunned and outmanoeuvred, hesitated for only a moment before reluctantly lowering their rifles. The brute with the scar made a motion with one hand, resistance was futile, it was that or death. "Do as he says." The sound was a grunt, a very angry grunt.

  Cate, Morena, and Tyra, weapons drawn and alert, stepped out from behind the cover of the trees, emerging on the other side of the bridge. Darlen’s heart hammered in his chest as he took in the sight of them, the relief almost overwhelming. He half smiled when he saw Morena had his own weapon in her hands.

  Cate’s eyes found James across the bridge, the silent understanding between them palpable. It was a split-second connection—no words were needed.

  With the situation diffused, James turned his attention to Darlen, his tone light but with a touch of surprise. “Looks like you’ve got backup, huh?” He glanced briefly at Cate. “I’ll leave it to you, Taipan.”

  Darlen, still shaken, nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” he muttered. “I wasn’t sure how that was going to end.”

  Cate lowered her head as she approached him; the young man was much shorter than she was. “Your courage will be rewarded Darlen, I’ll see to it.”

  Onboard the Invincible:

  A few hours late she was aboard the Invincible. Cate’s feet barely touched the deck before she was greeted by the familiar hum of activity around her—everything was as it should be. But there was no hiding the emotion that bubbled to the surface as her squadron mates made their way toward her.

  Dusty, as always, was the first to step forward, his steady, unflinching presence bringing an instant sense of calm. He offered her a small, but sincere smile.

  “Good to see you back in the skies, Taipan,” he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying warmth in his words that she hadn’t expected.

  Cate offered him a soft smile in return, feeling the weight of the past days lift for just a moment. “Didn’t think you’d be happy to see me, Dusty,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “I figured you’d have taken over by now.”

  Dusty’s grin faded into something more genuine, a flicker of respect. “Wouldn’t trade it for anything. But glad you’re back where you belong.” His hand briefly rested on her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie…no words needed.

  Behind him, the rest of the squadron gathered, each face a reflection of their shared experiences, and the silent bond forged in the heat of battle.

  “Welcome back, Taipan,” Ghost said with a nod, her tone softer than Cate was used to hearing.

  Viking’s acknowledgment was a brief, silent nod, but the unspoken respect between them said everything. Batman gave her a wide grin. “You couldn’t stay away for too long, huh?”

  Angel’s eyes met Cate’s, a silent understanding passing between them, as though they’d both survived something that was never meant to be survived.

  Nugget’s voice was the youngest and most eager. “Good to see you, ma’am!” he said, his words full of excitement and just a touch of awkwardness.

  Cate felt her chest tighten as the last few days seemed to rush over her all at once. They were all here—her squadron, her family. There was no need for words. Her eyes shone with something deeper than gratitude as she scanned the group.

  “Good to see you all, too,” she replied, her voice hoarse with emotion.

  As the squadron gathered around, the familiar sense of belonging settled over her like a protective shield. They were together again, and that made the weight of everything else seem just a little lighter. But even as they exchanged glances and brief smiles, Cate’s mind wandered to the unknown ahead. The Aurora was still a long way off, and she had no idea what was coming next—least of all, what Cam had planned for her.