About half an hour later the team stood at the entrance, or what looked like an entrance into the ship. Obviously as some form of cargo door due to its vast size Miller just stood looking up at it in slight awe, it was no Atlantis however it was still slightly impressive. They had long decided that the transmission was some kind of distress beacon, basically one single constant note blaring out from the ship. He stood at the door, strange markings were above it and there was what would be an obvious release hatch, though he wasn't so keen on using an obvious release hatch.

He waved Milton forwards. "Milton, you're up. Just want to make sure that if we use the door handle that nothing incredibly dangerous bad happens. I'd rather not have shit go down hill on my first mission." He turned to look out at the sand, and checked the suns position to where they had started. It was higher up than where it had been earlier, about midday by his reckoning, if it ever got that cool they could get beamed up.

They better get onto it.

=====Tempest Medical Bay on the ship====

Joseph

All around Joseph, the medical bay reign in chaos and disorder as anarchy was fed by the moans from the wounded. No one was spared an ounce of mercy. From civilian staff to military personnel, people unable to make on their own were supported by those less wounded, the victims’ faces twisted in pain from each jarred movement. However the Doctor had shut off his heart and with that, his sympathy to the unfortunates. If anyone could peer into his mind, they would likely be shock at his decision, viewed it as cold and evil. In truth it was very much the opposite. He need to think clearly and make the right choices, uninfluenced or hindered by emotions, his focus completely upon the task at hand when he motioned for the critical to be ushered to the ER section of the Tempest’s medical bay. Others that didn’t require immediate attention had been detoured to a side room where Dr. Ross, to best of her condition, treated their minor injuries.

Every patient that came into his path had Joseph’s best guess diagnose. It clearly irritated him to do what he viewed as a sloppy job, yet with the rising number of injured this was the best he could offer at the moment. Hastily his fingers gently propped questionable bruising, ignoring his professional pride and letting his touch seek questionable bumps or increased discoloration, and indications of far worse problems before he determined the best area send the patient. So far they had been fortunate. No fatalities yet. He expected it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer and was shortly prove correct in his assumptions.

Aged eyes jerked upright, Joseph’s uninjured arm cradled a civilian woman’s hand in his fingers and gently feeling for broken bones, just to spot a small group that arrived. Two young privates slung a man in his thirties, his dark brown hair=or what wasn't blackened- cut close to the scalp and dressed in the familiar military fashion, his face and front was singed from the look of it. It wasn't a surprise why his body seemed unable to stand on its own. On a gurney, sided by a medical officer, was a young woman in her twenties and wavy blond hair. Her skin had a tint of blue to it as if she had suffered oxygen deprivation and being frozen. Her eyes were closed, frosted over as a few blanket had been placed over her body in a vain attempt to warm her. A medical officer was crouched beside the woman, fingers pressed to her patient’s neck, checking the pulse, until a slight admit of defeat had caste over her features. Her face fallen slightly from it when she suddenly stood upright and spoke the time of death. It was what Joseph had suspected on seeing her state. The woman was dead, expired either before or during the trip to be saved.

Joseph’s eyes happened to brush over the frozen corpse’s uniform pocket, Alyssa Aldurren, which identified the woman. Then the medical officer pulled back the blanket and covered the face. Thanks to his association with death, not every patient savable, his attention came back to the living. The living came first, and then the death. His feet stirred into motion, the man bluntly ignored the slightly throbbing in his wrapped arm, until he came to a step right in front of the patient hanging between the two officers. Joseph’s question demanded in his usual charm. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Sterling. He had a power conduit explode in his face and he's badly.” Said one of the privates as Joseph’s finger checked the man’s vitals.

“Get him to the ER, now!” Deep down however, Joseph had a feeling the man wasn't going to make it even if they everything they could for him.

Dr. Niven, followed by two others, instantly rushed to take the Major from the pair then disappeared into the ER.

Hangar Bay, HMS Tempest
Dr. Ishpetyr stared at the chunk of metal. It might have been a wing section once; it had that teardrop-shape look to it. Then again, this was an unknown alien spaceship. It could be part of the captain's bed, for all he knew. He'd have to get xenobiology on it. And double check to see if there were any competent acheological xenopoligists on board. And then he'd let the materials scientists take a crack at it. Beyond that, it'd have to be shipped off Earthside.

For now, however, he was just looking at it. He and Dr. Bishop had more than sufficient skill to give the debris a more thorough scan. They were overqualified, really. It didn't take much to set up a few instruments, calibrate them, press a few buttons, and wait. Yet, he wanted Dr. Bishop here, so he could get a preview of the man's personality. That, and one of the privelages of his position was that he could damn well look at whatever he wanted for as long as he liked. And occasionally, field work was good for you.

The first instrument was an electromagnetic field detector - nothing more than a very fancy camera, really. Abel heard Dr. Bishop's footsteps approaching.

"Well Doctor. This looks like we'll learn a lot from it. I have a PhD in studying pieces of burnt metal you know..." Dr. Bishop said, chuckling slightly.
"Ah, indeed. Rather prestigious degree, isn't it?" Dr. Ishpetyr said, returning the humor in kind. "And while I'm sure we've both got more experience than this job requires, I thought that you might like to see the first piece of alien wreckage brought aboard the Tempest. Let's take a few readings, and then I'll get the proper departments to have a go."

Dr. Ishpetyr started calibrating the electromagnetic field detector. He casually asked, "Your first time working with explosive debris?"

~o~0~o~

Bridge, HMS Tempest
Lt. Cmdr. Creon considered drilling the crew. They could (always) use a shove in their backside, but they also needed to recover from the excitement of the last few hours. He'd spring a decompression drill on them in half an hour or two. It'd help rebuild the crew's confidence, and remind them that they'd trained for any eventuality for months. And then maybe they'd stop carrying on about what might be planetside and remember that their jobs were shipside - where there minds were supposed to be, too.

Once they had entered the shade of the derelict there was some relief from the beating sun. Immediately Brandt was grateful. The distance had been farther than expected, but that was an illusion of closeness due to the size of the vessel in question. Taking a drink from his canteen he sealed it back up, then double-timed it to the doorway. "Affirmative, sir," he said then studied the door and symbols. "Seems Asgardian. That' might be a little odd. I thought this was where the Ancients had come," he muttered, half to himself, half to Miller. Pulling out his fixed blade knife he rapped on the door and then the hull. The former was sturdy but sounded hollow and had an echo, and the main hull itself seemed quite solid and hard. No hidden or empty spaces.There seemed to be a keypad of sorts, only a couple buttons. "Sergeant," he said, then gestured to it. There was a slot in the back which seamed something could or should be put into.

He gestured with the knife to the pad, the slot, and the Asgard symbols. "Looks like we might need an access card or external power source or something. Probably a pretty smart design feature in the event of systems being down or out. We could try to force it, or blow it. You were in demo, right sir?... I mean I'd rather not. I think we can get in decently, but I think I'd like your opinion on it before I do anything, sir." It was a subtle way of saying "if something happens... its not going to be my fault" but he did not say it out loud.

Bob Bishop

He really didn't see the point in what he was doing looking at Debris, especially since there was apparently a ship down on the planet or instead working on the ship itself or the RF-302. Though no, Ishpetyr had him looking at space debris. "No, not really my first time looking at space debris or explosive debris. You should of seen what was left of the Icarus planet. We went in to see how much Naquadah we could recover in order to make a new more powerful Generator, maybe even one big enough to dial the 9th Chevron however we never managed to recover anything. There were a couple of Ha'tak pieces lying around that we could of looked at but we mastered the technology that is used to construct them. So, that was a fun waste of time." He shrugged. "Well, I am sure this won't be the same deal as that," He ran his hand over the debris, it was rough and obviously burned. Moving over to a nearby engineers station he opened up his laptop and began powering up his diagnostic software as he took out a small scanner probe. Something that he had made but hadn't managed to make enough to make standard equipment yet. It was basically just a small piece of hardware that literally scanned any electrical/radiological data on whatever it was pointed at, after that it actually did a sonar scan on the device. However due to its size it wasn't possible of anything akin to a MRI, and it was linked right back to his laptop for easy use.

He pointed the probe to the device, it was the size of a large and old handheld telephone. He pointed it at the device and began taking readings. At the look he got from Ishpetyr he just shrugged. "You have your departments, I have my toys."

Three point four seconds later it was over and Julia had arrived on the Tempest.

“Well that sucks,” exclaimed Julia, “I didn’t feel a thing” .
“Of course you didn’t honey you weren’t even matter.” said the Dr. in a patronising voice, “You can’t expect to feel anything when you have anything to feel with.
“Why thank you for stating the obvious Jacob, I could not expect anything less from you.”
“You brought it upon yourself...” muttered the Doctor.
“Would you stop it you two, what did the colonel say, interjected the airman on Julia’s left.

After the quick altercation with the Dr. that always wanted more attention Julia was able to turn her attention to her surroundings. The room she stood in could only be considered the gateroom for the biggest and in reality the only feature of the whole room was the gate. To Julia’s unpracticed eye it looked quite different from the gate she had just stepped through on Earth if anything it looked newer. Instead of being simple metal the symbols on the ring where illuminated by soft blue lights, they gave the gate an eerie glow.

Behind the gate was a metal cylinder, a plug, it was just the right shape to plug the stargate when not in use, blocking any connection when it is in place. It was lightly adorned with a small etched border on it’s face that seemed to Julia to be able to blend quite artistically with the stargate when it was put into place. It was one of the fine touches made by the British navy when they commissioned the ship and one that she had missed when she had first glanced around the room.

As she descended the ramp, Julia noticed that near the door there was a glass window and just as her group left the room the technician Sgt. Williams who was manning the gate plugged it and joined them in the hallway.

“Welcome aboard the Tempest. Unfortunately I am the only one here to welcome you because everyone else is busy either with the frenzy following our passing through the debris field or the departure of our first ground mission.” said the Sergeant.

“Well we are here to help so if you could direct us where we could be the most useful that would be greatly appreciated,” responded one of the other scientists.

“Of course, most of the injured have been moved to the infirmary you should probably look there,” suggested the gatekeeper to the medics who had come with Julia and the others. The Sergeant Continued: [i]“Most of the damage was in the bridge tower, last I heard there was a broken conduit up there.”

“Excellent it is always fun to play with broken superconductors, one misstep and you get a nice little shock,” joked Jacob, “Well best go see what we can do.”

The group prepared to leave separating the supplies between those who needed them and Sgt. William returned to his post and unplugged the gate leaving the group to themselves. Soon enough everything was repacked and the group was on its way, eventually they reached an elevator that climbed the bridge tower and the group parted ways. The medics continued on to the infirmary while the scientist and airmen took the elevator.

When the elevators doors closed it was like Dr Moore just noticed that Julia had followed them into the elevator: “What are you doing here?” questioned the Doctor.

“I was told to report to the captain who could be found on the bridge,” answered Julia.
“Well stay out of our way you are not part of our team even if others might have thought so.”
“Moore,” warned one of the scientist.
“I don’t care. You know what. We don’t even want you to walk in with us we want you to wait outside until we are done presenting ourselves and have started working before you come onto the bridge.”

Frustrated Julia turned to the others: “What? Are you going to let him get away with this?” A few feet shuffled but otherwise it seemed that even the elevator held its breath.

“Fine then. I’ll wait,” surrendered Julia.

Jacob Moore left the elevator with a little smug smile followed solemnly by the others. Just as the door was about to shut Julia stepped out and looked around a bit for somewhere to go a little lost about what to do now.

~~Miller~~
Miller turned to look at the Tok'ra, pointing at her and put on a stern look, only to speak in a lighter tone. "You should learn one thing about us, we don't leave our people behind. If you get beamed somewhere which would likely be elsewhere on the ship or on the planet then we would not leave until we had found you. We'll be fine-" His radio broke in with the Captain asking him to turn of the beacon. "All right Milton, you think you can open this door quickly without many complications? I'd rather not blow it but the Captain wants that beacon off and the only way we're turning that thing off is from inside the ship." He eyed the ship, it was impressive that was for sure and he hoped that whoever made it were at least somewhat friendly." He moved over and tapped the button on the door and nothing happened. "Key code or something?"
~~McClellan~~

McClellan had been down to the Stargate room just to miss the guest, a young woman. Who had been a pet project of her own government before becoming the pet project of the I.O.A. Basically finding someone with a high IQ and trying to fill their head with knowlegde of the Stargate while learning different sciences, trying to motivate them and bring about a new era of Stargate personnel and ensure that the Tempest had the best crew possible, and she could definitely be a valuable asset to the team. He found her again up several decks outside of the elevator.
"Julia Delaurieux." He moved over to her and extended his hand. "Doctor McClellan, I'm the IOA representative aboard this ship and until Doctor Ishpetyr assigns you to a team I'll be looking after you, even then I'll be ensuring you are fitting in on the ship and that everything is all right. Any issues you should be coming to me and I'll help you out." He let her have a chance to acknowledge at that before he went on. "The Captain is a little pre-occupied right now, however I will show you to your quarters and then I will take you to Doctor Ishpetyr and Doctor Bishop who are studying a part of debris from the debris field we are currently in."

=====Tempest Mess Hall====

Astridh (Ellri) & Joseph (Fallenreaper)

Astridh looked at the few sensor readings they had of the crashed vessel. It was a huge ship, and resembling nothing she had ever seen before. “I suppose the SGC would be interested. Too bad there’s no signal from the gate. Its down there somewhere, but sensors speak of massive deeply buried naquadah concentrations. Right now, it is impossible to say where it is.” She answered the captain. Turning inwards, she thought to her symbiote, ‘have you ever seen technology like this wreck?’ her thought was quickly answered. ’Not sure. It resembles asgard tech, yet there is something… odd… about it. I think it must be very old.’

Just then, Astridh’s stomach growled loudly, informing her that she had not eaten since early morning the day before, having missed the scheduled meal due to the incident with the debris. “Captain. If you would excuse me, I think I will find some food. In the hurry after the incident, I forgot to eat. My body isn’t pleased about that, and I have some things to take care of. If I am needed back here on the bridge, just radio me.” After the captain nodded in acknowledgement, Astridh set her console in stand-by and started walking towards the mess hall. She knew also that she would soon have to take another naquadah inhibitor injection. Even with the other Tok’ra off the ship, she could not take any chances.

‘If only we had some means of gaining access to the asgard core...’ she thought idly as she walked. ’That would be most convenient, yes.’ Eydis answered, clearly having no ideas for how to go about it either.

Joseph glared at one of the younger doctors as the man smiled friendly at him, his rough encouragement had him being pulled along. The injured arm still throbbed like crazy but with the medical bay tending to the massive amount of wounded, his turn, like others, would have to wait for a better time. Major Tassar had sadly been lost in the ER soon after he was omitted. It seemed his wounds were too much and even their medical advancements hadn’t been enough to save him, Joseph’s mind no longer numbed while performing his had started to reflect on the loss. However instead of receiving the peace he sought in being alone, one of the young, brilliant- a term he now used loosely- had sought to drag him into the mess for some coffee! Needles to say if looks could have killed then the younger man would’ve been in a body bag within moments.

Still the idea of something hot appealed after the chaos still rampaging within the medical bay. Though when compared to the beginning, it had died down some. His fingers pulled around his makeshift sling created from his white coat and tried to easy the weight off his neck. It was a temporary relief but nothing worthwhile, a pity to him. At leisurely pace they made their way to the mess hall where they encountered a young woman dressed in uniform with her hair tied back and seemingly heading the same direction.

“Excuse me,” Joseph said, his feet stopped short of entering the mess hall and aimed to allow her through first.

“Thank you”, Astridh answered when the somewhat older man let her through. She knew she had seen him before, but had not really spoken with him. She thought back, trying to figure out what department he was part of. ’medical’ Eydis whispered into her mind, saving her from considerable thought-digging. Astridh loved having a Tok’ra in her mind. So many advantages. Their relationship was more intimate than any marriage could be. There were no secrets at all. No betrayals. No lies. What one knew, both could know.

Astridh walked into the mess hall, grabbing what food seemed most appetizing right then. One thing was sure, the Royal Navy had skimped on neither the cooks nor on the raw materials. The food here on the Tempest was far better than the food on any of the RN ships she had served on before. Once she had the food, she looked around, found an empty table and sat down to eat.

Once Joseph ensured the woman walked by, he pulled into step beside the other doctor who had thoughtfully waited on him. However he showed his gratitude with small huff and readjusted his sling, his lips gave out a small hiss before he turned heel to where the coffee was. The dark, rich liquid had just finished brewing. Despite that, the older doctor’s eyes had spotted small traces of the earlier chaos were still being swept up. He set a cup on the table then took the pitcher tightly by the handle to pour it, the other about to aid him until Joseph’s sharp glare caused the man to stop in his tracks.

“I’ve got it.” He grumbled then set it, crookedly, back on the heating plate.

Slowly he started to shuffle to another table then paused as a realization came over him. It took him a bit, between the endless ache in his arm and rather soured mood at feeling helpless during the infirmary, to remember the woman’s face. A name came to mind: Astridh Nic Shitric. He distinctly remember that name because there was data missing. Not to forget the fact she had missed a scheduled physical check-up during her reassignment. For any doctor, there wasn’t a need to go out of the way but Joseph’s pride would likely nitpick at him until the appointment was done. Sighing, he started over to where the young woman was then politely asked, “Mind if I sit here? I’ve got a few questions to asked you about your medical records and hopefully schedule a physical check. You missed your last one during your reassignment, isn’t that right?”

Astridh looked up when the doctor spoke, asking if she minded him sitting there. She did not. “Not at all. I’ll answer any questions you might have, provided I know the answer.” she answered, even as he took a seat. She saw that his wounded arm, probably just sprained, pained him somewhat. If it had been broken, she was pretty sure he would have been in far more pain. Even seated, it was obvious he was quite a bit taller than her. ’He is doctor Joseph M. Sterling, Astridh.’ Eydis’ thought floated to the front of her mind. She had seen him a few times before, but not really spoken with him. When he mentioned the missing physical checkup, she realized that she had completely forgotten about that. Eydis hadn’t of course, but then, Eydis did not forget anything. It was hard on them both to go through these checkups. With greater-than-human strength, they had to use far less than they were capable of, yet at the same time strain as if it were at the very edge of their capability.

So far, they had avoided being X-rayed, which was one of the few things they truly feared. In an upper body X-ray, there would be no way for Eydis not to be discovered. There were so many of the more advanced practices of Tau’ri medicine that could reveal the truth. The truth that could get them both imprisoned or killed. “Hmm? Oh. I completely forgot that checkup, Doctor Sterling. Being assigned to this ship, I had so much else to learn that I forgot to get checked up again. When do you want to get it done?” She asked, even as she continued eating the excellent stew made by the cooks.

Joseph nodded at Ms. Shitric agreement to answer any questions he might have to the best of her ability. It made things easier and more efficient that way. He was careful not to bump the table as he eased in, his coffee placed in front of him within his good hand’s easy reach. The liquid itself was still too hot to drink right away, allowing him a perfect time to retrieve his notebook and pen. He pulled to the side and reached into his pants pocket where the items were normally kept on his person at all times. It was best to have something to jot notes down when needed, something he learned in college that was rather helpful. He bit back the soft hiss of pain he when he sat upright again, his cradled arm brushed the table edge along the way. He took a deep inhale to soothe his pain, eliminating the distraction, before clicking the pen and held it to the paper in waiting.

The doctor’s face became a slightly frown at her casual mention about forgetting to reschedule her check up, especially using the excuse of being busy. Joseph had heard it before and deep down, he suspected her forgetfulness was on purpose. It was an annoyance to him that even in the modern age, with such advancements and progress made to better people’s help, some men and women were uncomfortable with doctor appointments. Not even those few good soldiers that willingly risk their lives to make the world safe were miraculously immuned this either but it was less likely to occur.

“My professionalism would’ve said bright early tomorrow morning, Ms. Shitric, but with the medical wing out of sorts right now, it’s not possible. Likely in a few weeks’ time would suffice, after the offices are once more in proper working order. Personally, I’ve not found a patient or doctor, myself included, willing to repeat the process more than needed every half year.” Joseph said in a calm and straightforward manner. He wasn’t one to mince words, either with fellow doctor or patient alike, when being direct was best.

Wasting little time, he held the pen to the pad and scribbled a brief, messy sentence in his terrible chicken scratch then went onto the next topic. “Since that’s out of the way, shall we begin with the questions? I noticed your medical records- what I have legal access to-is missing some vital information. For example, the allergies section, family history, and others are left blank within in the medical computers. I’ll like to start to fill those in as soon as possible. So any known allergies?”

“Early mondays. Makes my head hurt.” Astridh answered, smiling innocently. “As for family history, I don’t keep track of that. My family lawyer has taken care of that since long before my parents’ death.” The lawyer she paid very well to keep as much as possible secret. Turns out, that was more than most would think. Before her blending, she hadn’t really paid much attention to him, but afterwards, he had proven very useful in obfuscating her gained non-tau’ri nature.

It was not that she truly feared anything in those records getting out. neither she nor Eydis thought that dangerous, but rather that they were both afraid that there might be some connection in there that they did not see. Some connection that might blow their cover unexpectedly. The less information, the less risk. That was how it usually went.

Brandt looked over the door frame, trying the pad a few more times, before pulling out a small pen light and shining it in the recesses of the slot on the panel, peering inside. It really hadn't been worth the effort. Briefly he considered taking the liquid Naquadah power core from the staff their Tok'ra companion was carrying and using that,b ut for all he knew he'd fry whatever circuits remained. He could bypass electronics, make circuits, listening devices and fix a lot of electronic things, but this was an alien device, and who knew anything that he knew would apply. It was possible that more harm than good could come from that.

Giving a sigh, he tossed his hands and gave up. "Honestly sir, I'm no Doctor Jackson. I know Latin front and back, I'm pretty good with Ancient. Ancient Egyptian and Goa'uld I am good with. Nordic languages.. Asgardian, but this isn't the same. I would really have to have a reference point to start from. There are just too many variables in the symbols possible meanings. And that's if you only look at it from an English perspective. English is one of the most complex and hardest languages on Earth, and the Asgard find it simple... quaint, even. So this..." he trailed off, waving at the mess in front of them. "I hate to say it, but we're gonna have to blow it. Or if you think the Tempest's scanners can hold focus tight enough... beam us past it. If the captain is in a real hurry, they could just beam us as close as they can get tot he source of the beacon." Feeling useless he shook his head and let his hands drop a little bit. "Those are my recommendations, Sir," he said.

Glancing over at Ariadne he gestured toward her. "Your staff could make a good dent in it, I think. I see no Thor's Hammer. Who knows? This ship could very well pre-date the war with the Gou'ald."

~Miller~

Miller moved over to the door and tapped the door and tapped it however it didn't really make a noise as would be expected if it was as thick as they thought it was. He scratched his beard slightly. "No apology necessary, we're working with Alien tech I don't really expect for us to understand everything all the time that wouldn't really be possible." He walked slightly further back. "Not to mention that they were having difficulty locking onto the local area that we are in now and while we can be beamed up however I don't think that they can beam us into a specific room in a ship and we could end up inside of a wall which wouldn't be nice for everyone." He turned to Ariadne. "Hey Ariadne, can you use your staff to open a door for us? It will be a little bit more precise than if I was to just stick a block of C4 on it..." He held up his hand as he dropped his hand to his waist.

He picked up his Zat'nik'atel and squeezed it so it opened to its deployed shape and looked at it and the door. "So, one shot stuns, two kills and three disintegrates? Does this work on doors too? Saves the blasting and all that. If not we can always blast it and climb in."

~Miller~

Miller peered through the now open door, along remarkably clean looking and sterile hallway that stretched on for several hundred metres the end could not be seen due to a break in the hallway where something had broken through whatever shield system this ship utilized and had broken the back of the ship. He whistled in impression at the size of the ship, the inside of the ship was colder than the outside obviously the hull was thick enough to prevent any heat transferal even over thousands of years. Rather at least however long it had been on the planet, he was working on the estimation that he had been given during the officers briefing on the ship in terms of the ruins on the planet. However there was no telling if the ship had been here as long or had in fact been there even longer.

He turned to his team; “All right, let us move out. The reading to the sensors indicates that the beacon is down this hall but we have no clue as to what floor it is on. We’ll move out to the rough location of wherever it is and then try and adjust them to find out where it is. Captain isn’t happy with this thing broadcasting so we better get around to sorting it out.” He began walking down the corridor, occasionally there would be a door adjacent to the corridor they were on but right now his mission was specific rather than just to explore. He turned his head around slightly to talk to the people behind him. “Alright folks, anyone seen anything like this before? I didn’t think I would recognize it but I can tell it isn’t Ancient, Traveller, Asuran or Wraith that is for Certain. Anything else we know that it could be?”

~GM bit~

The current crewman in the position of the Tactical Officer checked the screen as there was a beeping tone. The man checked the sensors and there was absolutely nothing there but the sensors had detected something to some form of degree. He backlogged the system and checked what they had picked up. There had been a large vessel on the sensors a couple of seconds before and then it was gone again. It must of been some form of glitch to do with the current sensor issues. He sent a message to the Tactical officer encase it was an actual important issue.

He turned around to face the Captain. “Uh, Ma’am. I picked up a blip on the sensors, but its gone. It indicated something somewhere between the size of a Wraith Hive and a Goa’uld Ha’tak.”

When Astridh got notice of the sensor blip, she did not really see why it mattered. A single blip means nothing in the long run. It could be that someone was tracking them, which might be unwanted, or it could be something else entirely, like a sensor bug or someone simply being in the area by accident. Eydis knew for a fact that they’d done very little that could attract attention from anything in the area. Still, the midshipman might find an answer useful. ‘Not issue. Single blip can be anything. Notify if you see a clear and suspicious pattern. Signed, Lieutenant Astridh Nic Shitric.’. She made sure not to reveal anything to the one seated opposite her on the table. Non-military personnel had no need to know anything about military events.

When Ms. Shitric’s device went off, Joseph’s eyebrow went up in question. His body shifted back a little back into the seat, his face relaxed into something less than pleased. He knew every time a device, those ipods, tablets, or other such high tech toy went off then it was likely important. Or at least gave someone a chance to escape his focus and that was what he expected of his current patient. He wouldn’t blame her after all. While she would view Joseph’s questions as nothing more than annoyance, he genuinely cared about the well being of each and every single of those under his care. It was, after all, what made him good at his job. Most people couldn’t say that everyday. With a still body and rather sour look, Joseph waited until the woman had finished typing upon her modern device. His ears perked for that key phrase which would allow her freedom from his probing questions.

Once she had finished, Joseph commented, “I take it now you’ve got some duties to attend to then, Ms. Shitric?”

“I do not. It was a non-issue. Irrelevant.” She would not say anything more, as the doctor was not part of the bridge crew, and should not be privy to anything solely relevant to bridge crew. “What were we talking about again? I forget.”

Joseph had to fight the urge to chuckle at his current patient’s words. It seemed innocent enough but usually most patients took any chance to rush away, she didn’t. “Usually that’s the sort of problems cause the worse stress with patients in my field of work, Ms. Shitric. Most cast aside a repeating headache or minor, unexplained bruising as something harmless. Sometimes that’s not the case. It’s my job on board to determine and ensure my patient’s health, even if they don’t like my stubborness. Even if they believe I’m being over-cautious about something petty. I rather be sure it’s that than risk something worse.”

His hand gripped his coffee and took a sip, the still warm liquid tingled on its way down his throat. “Besides, even if was an irrelevant thing then I’m surprised you didn’t use as an escape for this conversation.”

Astridh nodded. “I could have, but that would have been a lie.” She took a bite of her food and swallowed before continuing. “Dealing with injuries is quite different from military tactics. A minor bother is most often an indication of a bigger issue with first aid. In military tactics, it has equal chances of being both that and nothing of consequence, and there’s no way to find out which it is without access to more information. You should know that well. How easily could you judge whether or not a patient is suffering from a mild concussion from twenty meters away?”

“Either way, one wrong choice can have some serious results.” Joseph’s pointed out flatly. “Not everyone would think it’s the later or consider it. That’s a human fact sadly and one we all have to accept, my concern is to lower that risk. Don’t mistake my comments as telling you how to do your job, Ms. Shitric, it’s not my intentions. I don’t like someone telling me how to do an operation. You have your job as do I, the only difference between you and me is I have a lawyer stopping me. Now, where was I again?”

“You were trying to ferret out personal information I am not required to share.” Astridh offered in a semi-helpful manner. She had no intention of sharing it. She did not, after all, want there to be any risk of Eydis being discovered. It was far too soon.

Joseph was unfazed by this woman’s bluntness, the manner returned it seemed. “And if the shoe was on the other foot, wouldn’t you want to do your job correctly? Even on the off chance the information you receive isn’t enriched with anything helpful at the moment?”

“Perhaps. But I do not expect anything beyond what I get. You’ll have to talk with my family lawyer to get the information you want. Anyways, I’ve got to do some other things to take care of now. We’ll talk more later.” When Joseph nodded while sipping his coffee, Astridh stood up and walked off, her thoughts churning about how she might get started on her real mission.

--- Tearstone, Sep and Echo ---

Ariadne took in the sights of the interior of this strange ship. Well, what sights she could see in the small circle of illumination provided by the Tau’ri torch. It was quite dull, and apparently devoid of any ostentation or marking that might indicate its owner. She listened as Miller listed off what the appearance didn’t indicate, two of which she’d never even heard of, then added her own views. “It is definitely not Goa’uld or Tok’ra.” She said matter-of-factly, before adding with a slightly sarcastic tone. “There is not enough ostentation.” Half of a smile crept onto her face as she finished speaking, though the others likely wouldn’t see given the darkness. She could feel Idalia’s excitement about exploring something so completely new and foreign and that excitement and optimism was washing over her, improving her mood.

Miller smirked, he somewhat liked Ariadne’s demeanour and the way she spoke. So far it always kept him interested and it was somewhat different from the way everyone else spoke and their military can do attitudes that was always nice. “Well, so it isn’t one of ours and apparently it isn’t Asgard. So I really don’t see what that leaves. Wasn’t there another race? What were they called again…” He searched his memory in order to try and remember all the files he had read since joining the Stargate programme, it didn’t help with the fact that both galaxies he had been in - such a casual term nowadays - had different aliens. However he would take egotistical aliens over aliens that want to suck his life out of him by his hand any day of the week. “Milton, any ideas?”

“Furlings, sir. I believe that was the other race,” he supplied quietly, listening to the echo of their voices in the long corridor. It was a long, hollow and empty sort of sound that only served as a reminder of how long it had been abandoned. For as near as they could tell, the ship had rested there for millennia, only now disturbed by their boot heels. The air was different too, cool and comfortable. It wasn’t entirely stale, but there seemed to be little residual smell at least for that hallway. Sterile was perhaps the best way to describe it. There were no scents of cleaning chemicals, like one would think of in a hospital, but simply air that was devoid of life, or of decay, except for what followed them in now.

Brandt had clicked on his tactical light on his P90, sweeping the cone of cold white light back and forth, bringing up the rear. Typical dynamic entry tactics dictated that he would have been walking backward, holding on to the one proceeding him, but this was not typically hostile entry situation. Instead, it reminded him of his previous missions. “I agree with Ariadne,” he said, “This place should have something to indicate. No familiar designs, no interfaces.. just the writings on the door. I also note no bodies. We do know that the Asgard had earlier forms, according to Thor and Heimdall's research. This ship may be here as a leftover from that time. It could p… I don’t even want to say that. It could date back to the days of the Replicators. As far as we know though, they aren’t in this galaxy.”

Milton sighed a little. “Recommend we keep moving, sir. This ship has to have control mechanisms which can tell us something, not to mention the beacon. There’s at least some form of power or energy in use, even if it seems like nobody’s home.”

Miller nodded, he knew that something was going on with the ship and it wasn’t right. It smelled wrong, it was sterile. If people had died in this ship then there would be dust or there would be dust clogging the ship and there would be nothing he could do about it. He walked down the hall with his light on shining it into the darker doorways. “Well, we’ll find out sooner or later what this place is-” Miller checked the scanner and looked at the blip indicating where the beacon was and pointed it at a door again with no markings. “-However I am amazed at how these people got around for the first couple of weeks aboard this ship as there is absolutely no marking on the ship doors.” He walked over to the door and pressed the panel beside the door and it opened, surprisingly. However as it hissed and slid open with a scratching sound he raised his gun and pointed it into the room.

There were consoles in the room in a semicircle with what appeared to be black screens, obviously dead, sitting behind them on the walls. The room unlike the corridors was circular and had obvious markings. Miller moved over to the consoles and ran his hands over them without actually pressing anything and was turning around to Milton when there was a ding and the lights flickered on, a blue light flashed over all of the members of the team and then there were a couple of high tone dings in the ship and the door slammed itself shut and the vent began pumping into the room and whatever it was it didn't smell like air. “That isn’t good, we haven’t even started pressing buttons yet. Milton, I guess the flashing red letters on the screen means something bad?”

Hangar Bay, HMS Tempest
Ishpetyr stared at the home-made scanning device. Honestly, what was the point of having sensitive and carefully calibrated equipment if every scientist was just going to use their own cobbled-together scrap? If he wasn't one of the few tangible links to Icarus, Abel would have done more than just roll his eyes when Bishop's back was turned.

"You have your departments, I have my toys," Bishop said.

Ishpetyr repressed a sigh.

"What a shame about that planet. Naquadria is extremely rare. If only-" Ishpetyr had to stop himself. Be likeable. You'll only earn distrust and hatred if you aren't likeable. Show humanity. "If only the parameters had been more carefully calculated. I'm sure many lives wouldn't have had to be pointlessly thrown away."

That seemed nice enough. The better friends he was with this man, the more information about what happened he could get. The initial scans from the debris were coming in. Nothing interesting. As far as he could tell, it was a perfectly ordinary chunk of alien spaceship wing. How dull. Ishpetyr suddenly realized that he'd forgotten to add people to his list. Medical personnel. Befriend the doctor, learn secrets. If he could arrange to injure someone, and then casually check up on them, carefully noting the patients around...

But whom?

Ah. A friend in need (even if that need is visits to a bedside) is a friend indeed. Ishpetyr casually recalibrated the quantum emissions spectrographic unit to overload on the next use. He then activated another instrument to feed the first one nominal readings, so that the QESU would give no indication that anything was wrong.

"When you're done with playing with your 'toy', would you mind taking a quantum emissions spectrograph?" Ishpetyr asked.

"Well actually whoever informed you about the planet being Naquadria is incorrect. Naquadria was unique to Langara due to high concentration of Naquadah and interference of a Goa'uld. However we were attempting to get the Langarians to allow us to use their gate and the fact that they draw power from the Naquadah and Naqudria in the surface to power their city and in fact the gate is already tied in. The main issue with Icarus was the fact that we were under attack from the Lucian Alliance as you no doubt know." He pocketed his scanner and wondered why Ishpetyr had him do what he could easily do himself. He supposed he should use the real equipment, it was nice to use his own scanner as it did more jobs but for something specific it would be best to use specialized equipment.
"You know this is literally just what it looks like, right? Debris. I could be doing much more interesting things for science however I will do as I'm told." He powered up the scanner and began typing in the protocol. "I guess we will see how useless this debris is going to be-" He powered up the scanner and a electric current began building before shocking Bishop majorly and anyone else nearby would feel the current in the air as he was sent flying backwards. He moved his head as everything was fading slightly and his head was throbbing to ensure that he still had control. "This... isn't a good day."

=====Tempest Mess Hall to Wing====

Joseph knew when to quit. That time had come the moment when Ms. Shitric had grown tired of his digging; the younger woman easily chose now to take her leave. The old man’s eyes just sighed in disappointment, a brief closing of his lids, as he placed his pen down upon the pad and reached over to take up his mug. The coffee had finally cooled to a tolerable level and he took a deep drink. He didn’t say a word while she took her leave, merely nodded in understanding then watched her leave. Inwardly, he wasn’t pleased with the result he gained during this unexpected meeting which caused his eyes to lower down to the pad and brush over the few scribbled words that danced across the page. Barely anything of any use in an emergency and currently, if she ever needed it, Joseph was wary to even give the woman morphine for pain due to any possibly negative effects.

He mentally sighed, lost in his own idleness while he mulled over several things that came to his mind. Namely associated with the reason Ms. Shitric kept her medical history so private and how in Lord’s name even allowed to be on the ship? The latter was more of a mulling curiosity since this project was from his understanding considered to be highly government operated and classified project, but he merely shrugged it off in flavor of the reasons why she needed sealed medical records.

In his attempts to seek out a reasonable answer, Joseph’s mind drifted over his first encounter with such measures. It was when a loving grandmother wanted to hide the fact she was dying from her family. It was hard case that quickly declined into a messy spiral after he had diagnosed her with lung cancer, the fourth physician and last, into the fatal stages. And shortly after, a lawyer suddenly showed up, forced the files and urged Joseph’s own mouth shut much to the doctor’s bitterness. It wasn’t easy for Joseph to look into the woman’s only child’s eyes and stay silent, one of the worse experiences he ever had in his life was seeing the quiet suffering and know he could’ve possibly eased it. The woman chose to suffer alone but ended up bring her family along when she sentenced herself to death, ODed on prescriptions given by another doctor for the pain. One of the few cases that Joseph felt frustrated with himself over. However, he pondered, the doctor doubted Ms. Shitric would’ve came on board just to risk dying somewhere along the voyage. It seemed wrong with how she portrayed herself and that bothered him, his hand visibly gripped the mug tighter then released.

Gently he set his half empty drink back down beside the pad, his fingers started to tap it up and down. His mind no longer distracted by either Ms. Shitric or thoughts, his arm’s throbbing returned again. It seemed to remind him he had a job to get to back to. Joseph felt it was going to be a long day filled with much paperwork, aiding patients, and more before he would be allowed to rest again but that was what he signed up for when he became a doctor. Slowly, he rose and gathered up his things into his good arm alongside his left over coffee, then turned heel for the exit.

The trip back to the medical office had been easy and uneventful one…until Joseph had walked after the admission of another patient recently. Instantly Dr. Niven looked up from his conversation and turned to spot Joseph enter, his body turned to deposit his coffee at his desk. Within seconds the Department Head held up his hand to end the current conversation, mumbled something, then was at Sterling’s side soon enough. Already Joseph had been making himself comfortable while his computer hummed to life and flickered on.

“Ahmm. Dr. Sterling? Joseph… I need you to do something for me.”

Joseph’s back leaned back to acknowledge Dr. Niven hovered at his side, his eyes blinked then narrowed. “Yes? What is it?”

“I need you to monitor a recent patient,” He began and passed over a pale blue clip board, the papers latched to contained medical details about the patient’s condition and arrival situation. While Joseph’s hand took to read, Dr. Niven continued to explain. “Currently much of the staff is stretched thin from earlier and with your injury, you’re not going to be much-

The clip board was immediately set down causing Dr. Niven to slightly jump at the unexpected sound. Joseph however, kept his steady eyes upon the Department Head and faced him completely. “You’re basically need someone to babysit the patient and because I’m injured, I’m the best choice. Dr. Niven… please, it’s easier not to beat around the bush and get to the point. We are both professionals here.”

There was a moment of silence until Joseph’s words began again.” It says here, he’s a Caucasian male about forty-nine, bald and suffering from electrical malfunctions that witnesses say sent the poor man backwards? Am I reading this right? And he suffered this?” He turned and thumb shifted towards the bottom to point at the injuries received with a curious look, one that edged towards disbelief the more he looked at it.

“Yes, that’s about right. Witnesses said a QESU machine malfunctioned for reasons yet unknown, possibly damaged during the shifting event and unknown until now.”

Joseph eyes scanned the clipboard again, this time a minute longer before he sighed. He started to rise to his feet and started to return his computer to its offsetting, his sudden movement caused Dr. Niven to back up slightly for room and to allow him to gather up his things. “Very well, Dr. Niven, I’ll check in on him. The only thing I’ve got to do all day is paperwork, seeking a loophole around Ms. Shitric’s damn lawyer or hounding her all day. The later would likely have me arrested before dinner time anyway…”

With coffee and clipboard in hand, he made his way into the recovery ward. His path was a beeline for the man pictured on the clipboard’s left corner. His steps sharp and direct didn’t delay him for very long as he came to Bob Bishop’s bedside shortly. Setting his coffee and clipboard down, a task made harder because his other arm hung close to his side and useless for the task, Joseph then quietly checked the monitors carefully. When he was satisfied everything was normal, he then pulled up a chair to patiently wait.

The moment the scan began, Ariadne squeezed shut her eyes, expecting the unfamiliar and disturbing feeling of being dematerialised by a transporter beam. Thankfully, that did not happen. However, she heard the ominous sound of something being pumped into the atmosphere. She assumed instantly that it was poison, probably symbiote poison, and kept her eyes shut, expecting to die any second now in a very painful manner. A second and a breath of air later, she realised that she was not dying horribly. She opened her eyes even as she tried to figure out what actually was being pumped into the room.

The gas was an acrid and unpleasant mix, not expressly poison, but neither was it something she wanted to be breathing for too long. As she worked to purge Idalia’s lungs of the substance, she also determined that it was likely both stale and slightly flammable. Her immediate thought to blast the doors open with her staff-weapon was cast aside with that revelation. “This gas is toxic. I will be fine for some time, but we should find a way to stop the room filling with it quickly, you won't be able to operate for long in it.” She cast about, looking for a way to stop the flow of the gas. The flashing, beeping console might help in the long run, but the others did not have the time for her to find control crystals and reorder them to open the door or stop the gas. Assuming the ship even had control crystals.

Shining the light over the walls quickly, she spotted two vents on the floor. They were both circular and not very large, but they were on opposite sides of the room. She could immediately tell they were the source of the gas as the air near them was starting to become cloudy. “Miller, we have to cover these vents.” She said tersely, pointing out the one further from her. She had to get something large enough and flat enough to cover it properly, but the room was devoid of anything mobile. Instead, she shrugged off the Tau’ri jacket she was wearing and slipped out one of the ceramic sheets that was meant to defend from staff blasts. She quickly placed it over the vent, relieved to see that it was large enough, and held it down. It wasn’t easy with the gas trying to push it away, but it was manageable.

Miller moved over to his vent and after pulling at it to see if he could open it before he did anything else. He removed one of his plates of armour and put it over the vent and then stood on top of it as the pressure was still building, he could hear it hissing through slightly. It was better for him and Ariadne to be working on this anyway, Milton probably would have more luck in trying to figure out what the console said in order to try and disable the power systems or more specifically the life support which was the main thing that was a problem.

Miller tapped his radio in order to open a channel to the ship. “Tempest, this is Miller. We have a bit of a situation right now. We’re inside the ship and the power has activated by our presence. We’re in some kind of lockdown and the life support appears to be routing some kind of fumes into the compartment, Ariadne believes they could be flammable so weapons or explosives are out of the question right now, requesting beam out in order to get breathing apparatus.”

“TS-1, this is Tempest.” answered a technician over the radio. “It is negative on the beaming. Array will not lock on. Over.”

Ariadne was not happy to hear that response over the radio. She knew she understood the threat somewhat better than Miller, even if only a little and so she responded quickly, snapping back over the radio at the foolish technician. “Then make it lock on, get the expert on beaming if you must, if you cannot assist us quickly the others may die!”

“No expert available, sorry. The real experts serve on the american ships. The closest thing to an expert we’ve got is lying in the medical bay with a severe concussion.” The technician was apologetic. “There might be some sort of jamming in place. There’s some disruptive signal I cannot identify.”

Ariadne bit back a terse reply at the latest answer. It was obvious no help was coming from the Tempest.

Brandt buried his face into the crook of his elbow as he made his way over to the console that was showing an alert. He shelved his FN P90 on it’s sling strap and focused on the readouts and the symbols. At least there was context, not like the door outside. He fought the urge to cough or to take deep and rapid panicked breaths. Instead, he focused on slow breathing, while trying to avoid taking in the gas as much as he could. He was aware of others removing trauma plates from their gear and working to stave off the gas flow. It was only a stop-gap measure. “Might sit down,” he muttered, as he considered having their entire body weight and shape against the vents might help further seal them. It sounded stupid, even in his head, but if it worked… was it really stupid?

“Right then,” he said much louder, focusing on the symbols. It was certainly related to an old dialect of Asgardian, but it wasn’t exactly the same. That was the trouble with old languages. Sometimes they could change in as little as a generation, as Dr Weir had noted at least once. Words, concepts, and pieces of the Asgard language and what military precursor primers he had tumbled through his head. If it were Ancient he’d have been better off, but there was no time to worry about that. Wiping a little bit of sweat off his forehead he found the patterns and confluences… the etymology of the language. “I… As near as I can tell it is giving a warning. It means… infection or contagion. I’m not one hundred percent. It could be something we brought in from a non-sterile environment… or it could be screaming about Ariadne.”

Quickly Milton punched in a set of symbols, that bore a close resemblance to an old dialect, hoping to at least pull up some sort of response from the computer systems. It was going to take a couple of minutes to figure out the basic setup of the computer, assuming that the core hadn’t gone retarded with no maintenance for however long. “Come on Hal, please say ya like me…”

The computer gave an annoying flash of red, across the readout. Coughing some, he fumbled with the keyboard again, throwing another attempted command, cursing under his breath. The readout flickered and glitched for a moment, then changed over. Grumbling and coughing, he keyed in more, but seemed to get an error message. Another try popped up a new display. “Okay getting somewhere,” he informed them. He was getting a little bit of a feel for the system, but he was still having to make guesses. Pulling out his notebook and language primer that he had, he began adding to the cypher what he’d been able to pick up so far.

After a minute he hit another command. “Ahah.. I’m into the next layer down,” he reported. “Working on the quarantine protocol override.” Taking a few moment, he punched in a command line, which gave him an error. Try again… another error. He coughed, gagging a little. “Ugh, this stuff reminds me of the CS gas from basic training,” he snipped, then gave it another try, coming at it from a new direction. Immediately, the alarm died out.
“Try the door, I think that’s got it.”

The moment Ariadne heard Milton suggest the door might open, she prepared to release her hold on the sheet of armour that held back the worst of the gas flow. “Watch out, the air is about to thicken.” Her warning given, she stood and moved swiftly to the door, grasping at the few holds she could get on the largely featureless bulkhead. She heaved with all her strength and the door budged. She edged her fingers around the now exposed end and pulled again, noting as some of the gas was sucked out. The door moved a little, but jammed, a fact made evident by a harsh screeching of metal.

“It is stuck.” She said redundantly. The one good thing was that it was open far enough to prevent a lethal build of gas. Not enough for even her slight figure to fit through though, much less the bulkier Tau’ri men. “I think we could move it all together.” She was somewhat stronger than each of the men individually, but together they were stronger than her. With that and her own strength, the door would likely be simple to drag open.

Milton turned from the console and jogged the few steps to the door, to begin assisting the Tok’ra. He gave her nod and the briefest of smiles before hooking his fingers on the edge of the doorway as well. The fresher, cleaner air was welcome, but it wasn’t enough. At least they could backtrack and get back outside. They’d have to get medchecked and cleared again, before coming back down though.