Chapter 5

  Amos had never been on an Asgard vessel before. He saw pictures and heard stories, but nothing could prepare him for the immense sense of awe he felt for being on board an Asgard mothership. He had rode on several Earth vessels before joining SG1: the Hammond, the Sun Tzu, he even caught a ride on the Daedalus once on its way back from Atlantis. Nevertheless, nothing could prepare him for the sleek and brilliant design of Freyr’s ship: Skidbladnir. It wasn’t a war ship, but a small Asgard science vessel. Regardless, its shields and ion cannons could challenge anything the Goa’uld or any of Earth’s future enemies like the Wraith or the Lucian Alliance could throw at it.

  Amos stepped onto the bridge of Skidbladnir, his eyes wide with awe. “Wow,” he whispered, taking in the room around him. “I can’t believe I’m actually on the legendary vessel, Skidbladnir.”

  Freyr turned to him, a hint of pride in his voice. “You’ve heard of my ship?”

  “Who hasn’t?” Amos replied, excitement bubbling within him. “I used to devour stories about the Norse gods in high school. And having earned my master’s in ancient history and the classics at the University of Chicago... to be standing on one of the gods’ chariots? It’s a dream come true!”

  “We are not gods, Amos Fyree,” Freyr reminded him, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  “I know that,” Amos said, shaking his head in disbelief, “but those stories, the legends that so many people grow up hearing, they all began right here.” He made his way to one of the chairs near the viewscreen and spun around playfully, like a child waiting for treats at the doctor’s office. “So, Freyr, I have to ask... does this ship actually fit in your pocket?”

  Freyr let out a long, patient sigh, akin to the exasperation of a doctor faced with a child’s endless requests for lollipops. “No, Amos. It doesn’t fit in my pocket. It’s just compact. Smaller than our other vessels. That’s where the legend of the ‘pocket ship’ comes from.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating. At 400 meters long and 200 meters wide, Skidbladnir was relatively modest compared to other Asgard ships of similar design—their own small runabout, comparable in size to Earth’s battle cruisers. The resemblance had a story behind it. The Asgard had aided Earth in creating its fleet, and Skidbladnir was one of their earliest models. Earth’s 303s and 304s bore striking similarities to the venerable Asgardian vessels.

  “Even though it may be small and old, its cannons and shields are newly upgraded,” Freyr explained, glancing at the advanced controls. “We shouldn’t encounter any trouble from hostile alien threats during our journey—unless, of course, we cross paths with the Replicators before our mission is complete.”

  Freyr walked over to the command and control station and undocked the ship from the futuristic hangar on the planet’s surface. In ten seconds they were in space, and in twenty they were in hyperspace.

  Handing a bag containing both his sundial device and Daniel’s laptop to Amos, Freyr’s expression remained serious. “I took the liberty of extracting the relevant data from the laptop and integrating it into my ship's computer. The location you mentioned lies deep within the Milky Way, in a sector currently untouched by the Goa’uld,” he explained.

  Amos felt a flicker of unease. Stargate Command likely wouldn’t approve of him sharing classified documents with the Asgard, and he could almost feel the delicate butterfly beneath his boot crinkle and pop—a reminder of the unsanctioned journey he had undertaken into the past. Yet the urgency of their mission loomed larger than his doubts; the threat posed by the Replicators was all too real, and Amos knew he had the power to make a crucial difference.

  He watched as Freyr moved toward a small compartment at the rear of the ship, the weight of their shared mission settling heavily in the air.

  Amos watched as Freyr revealed a small vial, its contents resembling human blood. "What exactly is that?" Amos inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  Freyr's voice dripped with condescension as he replied, "I thought it would be obvious, Amos. This is your blood. Where else would I procure human blood—from one of your Walmarts.

  Amos heard stories about how patronizing and narcissistic the Asgard were. Some of the scientists he worked under, such as Dr. Lindsey Kovac as well as Dr. Peter Kavanaugh had horror stories about working with the Asgard. On one occasion Dr Kovac could be seen crying and wiping tears from her eyes during a conversation she was having with Hermiod. To this day, no one knows what Hermiod said to her, but she wasn’t right ever since.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Freyr placed Amos’s vial of blood on a special console. “Ahh, I see. Brilliant design,” said Freyr as he analyzed the nanites in Amos’s blood.

  “You said human’s made this technology?” asked Freyr.

  “Those nanites, yeah, we made them, however the technology is of Lantean design, not the Replicators in this galaxy. We had some trouble utilizing the technology at first. Several years ago there was an incident with Dr. Rodney McKay and his sister Ms. Miller. Someone was kidnapped, a person got killed, and nanites got lose and nearly killed both of them. At first Devlan Medical was forced to forgo the technology, but at the behest of Drs. Miller and Mckay, Devlan Medical started working more heavily on the technology. With help from the scientists at Homeworld Command they made successful prototypes of the technology. Now all SGC personnel utilize medical nanites” responded Amos.

  Freyr's curiosity piqued. "Wait, who exactly are these Lanteans you're referring to?"

  "The Ancients, Freyr," Amos explained, a note of impatience creeping into his tone. "The Lanteans are the Ancients."

  Freyr paused, his keen gaze fixing on Amos, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features. "I have existed for thousands of years, yet I have never encountered the Ancients referred to as Lanteans. How, pray tell, did your kind come upon this knowledge, Amos Fyree?"

  Amos straightened, ready to enlighten. "You see, we primitive humans have a knack for uncovering valuable technology through our explorations. Eventually, we stumbled upon the lost city of the Ancients—Atlantis. There, we established an offworld base and meticulously studied everything the Ancients had left behind."

  Moved by Amos's revelation, Freyr leaned forward, eager for more. "And where is this Atlantis located? Neither the Asgard nor the Goa’uld have ever heard of such a place."

  Amos leaned in, his voice steady but laced with intrigue. “The reason neither you nor the Goa’uld have found it yet is that it’s not in the Milky Way Galaxy—it’s in Pegasus.”

  “Pegasus!” Freyr’s voice rose, a note of disbelief creeping in. “That galaxy is millions of lightyears away. Humans have established a base there? If the Asgard Exploration Guild learns of this…” His words trailed off as he shifted to mutter in Asgardian, the usual cadence of his speech replaced by something more urgent and fervent.

  Amos rose from his chair, curiosity pulling him closer to Freyr’s workspace. “So, what do you think? Can my nanites actually help me download the knowledge of the ancients?”

  Freyr glanced at his view screen, fingers dancing over the solid stone controls of his console. “The design is impressively sophisticated. I am still astonished that Earth’s inhabitants could create such technology, even considering they hail from over a decade in the future.”

  Freyr paused, contemplating. “Just to be safe, if I access the nanites’ base code, I could modify the programming to enable them to do more than just heal.” His eyes sparkled with a newfound understanding. “They should also have data storage capabilities… yes, that’s it!”

  With a determined focus, Freyr dedicated the next few minutes to refining Amos's nanites, amplifying their healing properties and enhancing their storage capacity. Once satisfied with the upgrades, he moved towards a peculiar machine at the back of the bridge.

  “What does that thing do?” Amos inquired, his eyes furrowing in curiosity.

  “It’s an Asgard matter converter,” Freyr explained, annoyance threading through his voice. “It rearranges the base molecules in the air to fabricate anything we need. While it can’t produce large, intricate items like ships or structures, nor can it create fundamental elements like trinium or naquadah, it’s perfectly capable of crafting basic items—food, tools, and in this case, self-replicating medical nanites.”

  Amos smirked, a small arrogant grin crossing his face. “Oh, right, we have those too. As a matter of fact, all our ships in the future are equipped with matter conversion technology.”

  Freyr shook his head, a mix of exasperation and humor etched in his features, before returning to his task. Several moments later, he emerged triumphantly with a vial containing the new medical nanites. “Here, Amos, drink this,” he commanded. “I’ve taken the liberty to not only update the storage capacity of the nanites but I’ve also adjusted the nanites to allow you to access the knowledge of the ancients consciously. The nanites should act like an asgard computer core allowing you to control the search through the Ancient database by mere thought.”

  Amos eyed the silvery liquid with nervousness. “Could you print something to wash this down? I’m a Fireball whiskey drinker myself—got to have some sugar in it, or it’s coming back up,” he whined.

  Freyr, unfazed, activated the matter converter once more, producing a drink. “What is this?” Amos asked, peering curiously at the resulting concoction.

  “I believe it’s what you humans refer to as… Kool Aid.”Freyr’s tone was almost conspiratorial, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Amos wondered if all the Asgard were racists or just Freyr. Before he could open his mouth, he stopped himself –he really didn’t want to know.

  Amos drank the concoction then downed the Kool Aid. “Ahh, not bad… you’ve got black folks down packed,” said Amos.

  Amos could feel the new nanites move throughout his system. “So, how do we know if it works,” asked Amos, with the taste of metal and sugar still fresh in his mouth?

  “I took the liberty of uploading the Asgard library of knowledge stored on this computer as well as a universal translator,” Freyr said.

  “If it works you should appear… smarter, be able to speak any language fluently, and know how to work this ship.” Amos wondered how or why he would need to speak any language then he remembered that when Oneil had downloaded the knowledge of the Ancients he would subconsciously speak Ancient and lost the ability to speak English. Only Dr. Jackson and an Asgard computer interface could interpret what O’neil was saying.

  Amos stood still, looked around, and waited until he felt… smarter. Suddenly, his stomach began to growl. He walked over to the matter replicator and without any effort, moved some stones around the kiosk and out came a bucket of fried chicken.

  “Fucking brilliant,” said Amos.

  “Fucking brilliant, indeed,” Freyr responded.

  The two then made themselves comfortable as they continued on their way towards their destination.