Chapter 16

  A few hours later, the crew of the Skidbladnir had arrived at their destination. To their surprise they saw nothing. The vast emptiness of space in this region of Pegasus took Freyr and Reva by surprise. In this system there were no rocky planets, no gas giants, and only one lonely star. The two began to wonder why Amos had told them to come here. Still Amos was positive that this was the right location. As the small Asgard vessel went deeper into the system a large alien structure appeared before them.

  “What is that?” said Freyr. “It appears to be a satellite of some kind,” Reva answered. Amos got up from his seat and walked closer towards the viewing screen. “Reva launch kinos, I want to know everything about that structure,” Amos ordered.

  While they were fixing the ship, Reva installed Kino dispensers in order to use them as probes on deep space missions. The second generation Kinos were more than simply MALPS. They could scan an alien ship and discover every little secret about an enemy vessel. In a matter of seconds telemetry was beaming into the ships computers with detailed descriptions of the station that lay ahead.

  “It’s a space station alright. Lantean. Our data shows that it was made in the height of the Wraith war. It appears to be powering a weapon of some kind,” Reva said.

  “Are you picking up any life signs? What about life support? Is there oxygen onboard?” asked Amos. “Negative,” she read. “If we go over there we’re going to need space suits.”

  Using the ship’s matter converters Reva and Amos made space suits each custom fit to their liking. After putting on the suits the two went to the ship’s large hangar bay where four Puddle Jumpers were being stored. There was a large fleet of Puddle Jumpers on Valhalla; the Asgard had begun studying the technology when Amos had requested some for the mission. After Amos warned them of Anubis’s impending attack they increased their efforts to find even more ships scattered throughout the planet. With luck, they would find a fleet of Ancient vessels that could be used to bolster their fleet. Until then it was up to Amos, Freyr and Reva to take up the task.

  Amos and Reva stepped aboard the small Lantean vessel, the hangar bay doors sealing shut behind them with a soft hiss. The Jumper glided through the void, its destination set on the abandoned satellite that loomed ahead, casting a long shadow against the starlit backdrop. As the vessel docked with a gentle shudder, they wasted no time—eagerly, they opened the hatch and drifted inside, the thrill of weightlessness enveloping them.

  Inside the dimly lit station, Reva grasped one of the ZPMs they’d carried along, her fingers working quickly as she integrated it into the power supply system. “We’ve got power!” she shouted, her voice buoyant with excitement. Just then, Amos was deep in concentration, poring over the satellite's weaponry when the familiar hum of artificial gravity vibrated through the structure, and life support sprang back to life. In a flurry, they yanked off their helmets and dove into repairs, their movements a dance of cooperation and urgency.

  Meanwhile, aboard the Skidbladnir, Freyr was glued to his console, meticulously scanning the long-range sensors. Suddenly, a shrill beep pierced the quiet. “Freyr to Amos. Freyr to Amos, please respond,” he urged, his voice rising above the static. Amos paused, reaching for one of the Asgard-provided subspace communicators, his heart racing. “Go ahead, Freyr. What’s happening?”

  “I’m picking up a single vessel on long-range sensors, headed our way,” Freyr reported, a note of tension threading through his tone. Amos and Reva exchanged anxious glances, their expressions mirroring the gravity of the situation. Amos had advised the Asgard to steer clear of hyperspace travel, a caution born out of the fear of the Wraith—a relentless insectoid race that ruled this galaxy with an iron grip. These predators would obliterate any alien species that threatened their supremacy. Even worse, they were the race who defeated the Ancients. While the Wraith were currently dormant, taking breaks between their ruthless cullings of human worlds, the prospect of running into them was a risk they had aimed to avoid. Yet, as fate would have it, the winds of chance were not in their favor this time.

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  “Shit, what do we do?” cursed Amos. If the Wraith discovered them not only will they attack, they could potentially wake up every Wraith in this galaxy. The Asgard were formidable, but not even they could handle the full onslaught of the Wraith fleet.

  “We cloak it,” said Reva. “Reva, do you have a way to cloak the entire station?” Amos asked. Reva put down her tools and turned facing Amos. “I installed a cloak on the Skidbladnir while we were still on Valhalla.” Once again, Reva proved her worth. “All Freyr has to do is activate the cloak and extend the cloak around both the ship and this satellite,” she said. Amos got back on the communicator and told Freyr what to do. Soon the Skidbladnir and the entire station was covered under a cloak.

  The two of them threw themselves into their task with an urgency that pulsed in the air around them. Amos’s mind wasn’t consumed by the satellite itself; his focus was solely on the small but vital firing mechanism that would unleash the weapon’s destructive potential. Yet, to grasp the full functionality of this weapon, they needed the satellite to be operational.

  “Done!” Reva exclaimed triumphantly, a spark of triumph lighting her features as the satellite hummed back to life. “If only we could find a way to test it,” she mused, a twinge of frustration on her lips.

  Amos’s thoughts shifted to the approaching Wraith ship, dark and ominous against the vastness of space. Testing this satellite weapon was a perilous notion with their enemies prowling nearby—unless, of course, a fortunate opportunity presented itself.

  “Freyr, come in. Freyr, this is Amos, please respond,” said Amos over the subspace communicator. “Go ahead Amos, this is Freyr, are you finished repairing the satellite?” he replied.

  “Yes, Freyr Reva says we’re done. What is the location of the vessel you picked up earlier?” Freyr got up from his seat and started moving stones over his computer terminal. The Wraith vessel that was once far away was now right on top of them.

  When Freyr told Amos that the Wraith were near their location Amos walked up to Reva and looked deeply into her eyes. “Baby, are you sure the weapon will work?” Amos asked Reva softly. “Yes, my love fixing things is my reason for being,” she said. “Ok I want you to head back to the jumper and be ready to fly off in case this doesn’t work,” Amos said, wanting to protect his new love. Reva, looking worried, asked Amos what he intended to do. Amos responded, with a hint of arrogance in his voice: “What I always do, beautiful.”

  “I’m going kill those fucking insects!”

  Reva piloted the Jumper back toward the Skidbladnir, her heart racing. Freyr had been firm in his warnings; the firepower aboard his ship was more than enough to take down a single Wraith vessel. But Amos had an insatiable curiosity—a burning need to witness the might of the Lantean Satellite weapon firsthand. And what better target than the lone Wraith cruiser now drifting closer?

  As the Wraith approached, it became clear it was a small cruiser—perhaps a scout ship—though its weapons were anything but insignificant. Without shields, the satellite weapon would be vulnerable.

  Amos flicked on his subspace communicator, his voice steady despite the tension. “Freyr, in ten seconds, drop the cloak.” He focused on calibrating the ancient weapon’s targeting system, adrenaline coursing through him. Just one shot, he told himself. He couldn’t afford to miss. Just one shot was all he needed. A single failed attempt could erase everything he had fought to achieve since arriving in the past—it was all riding on this moment.

  Freyr offered to encase the satellite in his ship's shields, but Amos shook his head. The energy from the blast could be catastrophic, endangering the Skidbladnir and everything aboard. Their only option was to leave Amos on the satellite to face this challenge alone and hope for the best. If he failed, it wouldn’t just be him in danger; the Asgard and the vulnerable humans of this galaxy would face a dire awakening at the hands of the Wraith.

  With ten seconds gone, Freyr deactivated the cloak and rocketed backward from the satellite, pushing to the limits of sublight speed. Almost instantly, the Wraith’s sensors detected the satellite and the Asgard vessel. “This is it,” Amos murmured, bracing himself. “Now or never.”

  “Fire Lantean Beam!”

  Out of nowhere, a dazzling beam of emerald light sliced through the endless void of space, hurtling toward the Wraith vessel with alarming speed. The crew barely had time to react before their ship was cleaved in two, obliterated in an instant. Reva had just exited the hangar bay, making her way back to the bridge, where tension hung thick in the air. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Freyr, their eyes glued to the wreckage that remained.

  “Holy shit,” Reva breathed, the enormity of the moment sinking in.

  “Holy shit, indeed,” Freyr replied.