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a year ago
Chapter 28: The Reconnaissance Gauntlet, Part 4
Created a year ago · 10 comments· 0 likes
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Larkin turned to Fairbairn. “Is there anything else this station can do?”
“Aye,” Fairbairn replied. “The weapons platform form can be used as a planetary shield. However, there is a massive drain on the stations liquid Naquadah supply when used.”
“I suppose that if there was a siege of the planet by one of Sokar’s enemies, his Jaffa might bring up some extra liquid Naquadah with them,” Sister Helena observed.
“Good observation, Sister,” Larkin said. He leaned over to Fairbairn. “Can you tell us about the planet itself?”
Fairbairn worked her magic with the console. She shook her head. “I don't seem to have that crystal with me here at the console, sir.”
“That's alright, said Larkin. “Perhaps that crystal is down on the planet somewhere.”
“Indeed,” Fairbairn said.
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ArtMew94 @ArtMew94
Nice bit of excitement!!
2025-05-17T01:12:51.828ZReply
Cool, first time seeing anything Stargate on this site I think 🙂👍
Artist
Then—a beep. Fairbairn's hands froze as the countdown halted. Relief washed over her like a wave. “System disabled, sir!” she announced breathlessly, slumping back in her seat.
Larkin exhaled a deep sigh, the tension releasing from his shoulders. He placed a firm hand on Fairbairn’s shoulder.
“Excellent work,” he said, his gratitude genuine.
Helena whispered a prayer of thanksgiving before joining Fairbairn at the console.
Fairbairn’s hands moved quickly once more, setting a new access password to secure the system. “There—only we can use this now,” she declared as she logged out.
Artist
Helena met his gaze, her lips forming a faint but resolute smile.
“Already ahead of you, Colonel,” she replied, her hands clasping her cross briefly before she returned her attention to the moment. Under her breath, a quiet plea escaped her: “St. Michael, lend us your strength.”
Fairbairn worked with precision, her fingers moving over the console like a maestro conducting an orchestra. The hum from the core grew louder, amplifying the stakes with every passing second. Larkin's grip on his weapon tightened, his eyes darting between the console and the hallway, ready for the worst.
“Thirty seconds!” Fairbairn exclaimed, sweat beading on her brow. She leaned closer to the display, her concentration absolute. Larkin braced himself, preparing to issue the evacuation order. Helena, beside him, closed her eyes momentarily, her lips moving in silent prayer.
Artist
Fairbairn's sharp intake of breath cut through the quiet hum of the console. “Sir, we’ve got a critical problem,” she announced, her voice steady but laced with urgency. “There’s an anti-tampering program running. If I don’t disable it, the power core will overload, taking the station—and us—with it.”
Larkin’s face tightened, his calm under pressure guiding the moment. “How much time do we have?” he demanded, already calculating backup plans.
Fairbairn’s fingers darted across the console as data scrolled rapidly on the holographic screen. “Three minutes—maybe less.”
“Can you disarm it?” Larkin asked, keeping his tone sharp and direct.
Fairbairn didn’t hesitate. “I’ll have to slice it manually.” Her brow furrowed, and she exhaled deeply, steadying her focus.
“Do it,” Larkin ordered, then glanced at Helena. “Sister, if you’ve got any prayers left, now’s the time.”
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