by Martha Wells
"We don't have time for that." Rodney turned to him impatiently. "Ahiveship is probably on the way here right now.
"Do we have time for this?" Teyla asked him pointedly. "You really think she will see reason and release us to destroy the Mirror?"
Rodney's jaw set in stubborn certainty. "She's a scientist. Yes, I think she'll see reason."
"She is a Wraith, whatever she calls herself." Teyla's voice was hard. "She will have no concern for anything except feeding and her own hive."
Rodney waved an arm, frustrated. "Then why isn't she making a deal with these Wraith?"
John shook his head in exasperation, glaring up at the death ray/beaming thing in the ceiling. "We don't know that she isn't."
Teyla paced away from the door, frowning. "And I still cannot believe that she is what she claims to be, even if it is true that she came here through the Mirror. Why would the Ancestors who escaped to her reality deliberately recreate the Wraith? It makes no sense."
Rodney said impatiently, "It does, if you consider the plague; she said her people thought the `Creators' and the other race they tried to seed were wiped out by it. If it was at all similar to the plague that destroyed the Ancients in the Milky Way, we know how virulent it was, that they never discovered a cure." Rodney paced, warming to his theory. "If these Ancients thought the only way to pass along their DNA was to use the Iratus bug mutation, which they already knew could be combined with human DNA-" He stopped, facing them, pointing toward the sealed hatch. "If they controlled its development, bred out the need to feed off sentient beings, made it as human as they could without allowing it to be susceptible to the plague, they could have produced something like Trishen. A Wraith-like being with pronounced human behavioral characteristics who has the Ancient gene."
Teyla shook her head, looking away. "I hope you are right," she said quietly.
"And she didn't say her species couldn't feed on sentient beings, Rodney," John pointed out. "She said they didn't." He lifted his brows. "That's a big difference."
The Wraith were taking their time searching the roof, so Ronon went into the jumper's rear cabin, sitting on the bench to check his gun and sharpen his knives. Much as he would like to take on the whole group, he knew destroying the Mirror was more important.
Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan, and McKay had died for it.
Finally Zelenka ducked into the rear cabin, saying anxiously, "They are leaving the roof. There are only two left near the place where the others-Two, that's good?"
Ronon's mouth twisted in grim amusement. "That's good." He pushed to his feet, sliding his long knife back into the scabbard.
From the cockpit, Kusanagi said, "I can lift the jumper further up the shaft." Ronon looked through the hatchway to see the HUD pop up a skeletal outline of the space directly above the jumper, showing the straight shaft and then what looked like a large doorway, maybe two levels up. The image was fuzzy on the edges, the Mirror still interfering with the ship's scanning abilities. Kusanagi pointed. "There. That opening, maybe it would give you a quicker route to the roof."
Ronon nodded. "Try it."
While Kusanagi slowly guided the jumper up the shaft, Ronon let Zelenka fuss around checking his radio and making sure his air tanks were topped off. The odd thing was that Ronon thought Zelenka was doing it because he really wanted Ronon to come back alive, not because he was afraid of being left with no one to guard him. "You have enough guns?" Zelenka asked him finally, waving a hand around at the supplies and weapons stored in the overhead racks. "There are extras."
"I've got enough," Ronon said, but he took a few of the small explosives meant for throwing, the ones called "grenades."
Kusanagi found the opening, a shattered hatchway leading into a space that might be for unloading freight, and rotated the jumper so the ramp was facing it. Ronon took a last look at the life signs screen, committing the Wraith's current positions to memory. The handheld detector wouldn't work unless somebody with the Ancestors' blood, like Sheppard or McKay or Kusanagi, was close enough to touch it. But Kusanagi and Zelenka could follow his progress with the jumper's screens, and warn him if the Wraith were about to cross his path. Ronon had survived a long time without that kind of help, but he wasn't fool enough to turn it down when it was freely offered.
He waited in the rear cabin while Kusanagi sealed the cockpit door to keep the air in, then opened the ramp. All that was left of the hatchway into the freight bay was jagged metal and broken stone, leading into a dark dusty passage. Ronon didn't wait for the ramp to open all the way; he caught the edge of the hatch and swung across, landing on the platform. The metal creaked under his boots, but didn't give, and a moment later he was moving fast down the passage. He heard the ramp closing behind him, and Kusanagi's soft voice on the radio, whispering, "Be careful."
"Will you two sit down?" Rodney asked in exasperation.
"In a minute." John wasn't pacing because he was stir-crazy, he was pacing because he was trying to keep sore and strained muscles from stiffening up. If they had a chance to do anything, he wanted to be able to move. Rodney was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, and Teyla, who did look stir-crazy, was pacing on the opposite side of the room from John.
They had poked all around the cabin, looking for a way to disarm the force shield. Rodney had used Teyla's knife on the rubbery wall-covering near the doorway, cutting through it to get to the controls to open and close the hatch. But those controls didn't affect the force shield, which was apparently generated by a separate unit somewhere on the other side of the wall. John figured that was why Trishen had used it to make their little prison; she had seen Rodney finesse the control panel for the ship's outer lock and had to know an inside hatchway wouldn't hold him long.
Rodney let his breath out, rubbing his face. "I don't suppose it's a good idea to try the rations she left. Or the water."
"It could be drugged." Teyla eyed the box with disapproval. "If she truly does not mean to feed on us, then she may have other designs."
Rodney frowned at her. "Drugged how?"
"It could turn us into zombies," John told him, picking a fate worse than death at random. His throat was painfully dry too, but he didn't think it was worth taking the chance.
Rodney contemplated the ceiling of the cabin in mock despair. "Yes, I'd worry about brain damage from the oxygen deprivation and the head injury, if I didn't know you were always like this."
John was watching Teyla. She had stopped pacing, and was rubbing her temple, her expression strained. She said abruptly, "I have been sensing Wraith, which is to be expected. But they seem.. .closer now, than they did before. Very close."
"How close is very?" John asked. The cabin suddenly felt a lot smaller and even more cage-like. If Trishen had cut a deal with the other Wraith... "Inside the ship?"
"Wait, maybe you're sensing Trishen." Rodney shoved to his feet, steadying himself on the wall with a wince. "She could be in a cabin next to this one-"
"It is not her." Teyla shook her head, her lips pressed together. "I have never been able to sense her presence, even when she was standing in front of me." She looked at John, lifting a brow. "These Wraith are close, and angry.
John heard something outside and stepped to where he could see the sealed hatch in the outer compartment. A moment later it slid open and Trishen stepped in. John stood on his toes and craned his neck, trying to see if there were any more Wraith lurking in the passage behind her.
Trishen moved nearly to the force-shielded doorway. It was still hard for John to read her expression, but her body radiated tension. She looked at Teyla. "Were you telling the truth about the Wraith searching for new sentients to feed on?"
Folding her arms, Teyla eyed her deliberately. "To the best of my knowledge. There are not enough humans to support the number of hives, and on some worlds they have already culled entire populations. We know they grow increasingly desperate."
Trishen looked away, taking a sharp breath. "They're at
the outer lock, trying to break into the ship." She pressed her hands together, as if steeling herself. "I don't have any weapons to stop them, and I can't repair the shields on the base ship, or the drive."
John shook his head with a grimace. Crap. I knew this was going to happen. Teyla's face hardened and she threw a grim look at John. Rodney threw his arms in the air in exasperation, saying, "Well, that limits your options, doesn't it? I told you they would want this ship, and they're going to want to know where you got it. Believe me, you won't like the way they ask the questions!" He added with bitter emphasis, "And if you don't let us go now, you might as well kill us yourself."
John snorted derisively to himself, thinking there wasn't a chance in hell of that. So it caught him completely by surprise when Trishen said, "I'll let you go, but listen to me first." She hesitated, shook her head a little. "I could take this shuttle, leave this system, but it isn't meant for long-range trips, and I know I have nowhere to go." She looked at Rodney, intent and desperate. "You told me you thought you could make the Mirror functional. If you agree to do that, or at least to try, I'll agree to destroy my base ship, so there is no possibility the Wraith will get its technology. If the Mirror can be activated, I'll take this shuttle back to my reality, and then you'll be free to do what you like to the Mirror."
Teyla lifted her brows, startled. Rodney stared at Trishen, so taken aback it was obvious he hadn't really expected her to give in either. He said, "Wait, that... sounds reasonable. That would work for us." He looked at John. "Right?"
John just really hoped this wasn't a trick, because otherwise he didn't see what the hell they were going to do. He asked Trishen, "What if he can't fix it?"
"Oh, fine!" Rodney objected, turning to John in outrage. "Let's cast doubt on my abilities right now! That'll help!"
Trishen shook her head impatiently. "I understand it may be impossible to make it operate again. I won't try to stop you from destabilizing it, if it comes to that. I'm trusting you to just give me a chance." She hesitated nervously. "I'm also trusting you not to kill me."
"Yeah, we're trusting you about that, too," John felt he had to point out. If the only thing she really wanted was to get back to her home reality, then this had half a chance of working. He threw a look at Teyla, got a sharp nod in reply. Rodney was making get on with it gestures. John said, "You've got a deal."
Trishen nodded tightly, and touched a control on her wristband. John saw the force shield shimmer. He moved forward, waved a hand to make sure it was really gone, then stepped through. Trishen backed away hastily, all the way to the far wall, which was fine with him. He said, "Where's our weapons?"
"In that cabinet." She pointed and he headed for it. The door was dark metal, thin and pleated into tiny ridges, almost like fabric. She began, "I have to unlock-" But when John touched it, the door slid open. She laughed a little, sounding startled rather than amused. "You really are descended from the Creators."
John didn't bother to reply, hauling out the P-90 that lay atop the pile and taking rapid inventory of the rest. Only one pistol, still holstered in Teyla's gun belt, but all three of their tac vests were there, Rodney's pack, and the SCBAs.
Rodney said, "It was set to respond only to the Ancient gene? Colonel Sheppard is a natural carrier, I have it artificially." He added, "What?" when John shoved his pack at him with a meaningful glare.
"We don't have time to chat." John handed Teyla her gun belt and tac vest and rapidly checked the P-90, making sure it hadn't been damaged or tampered with. So they had a temporary deal; he didn't want to give Trishen any more intel on them than they absolutely had to.
"We have no other weapons?" Teyla asked, buckling on her gun belt as she kept one eye on Trishen.
"That's it. At least we've got plenty of ammo." John pulled on his vest, clipping the P-90 to it, thinking, so far so good. He found a stray headset caught in the velcro on the vest and hooked it over his ear, switching the base unit on. He winced at the roar of static he got in response. He looked at Trishen, who was still watching them nervously. "We'll have to use your comm system to call our ship."
Rodney had torn open his pack, muttering a quick inventory of the contents. "Yes, I'm going to need Radek and Miko to work on this too, but first things first." He turned to Trishen. "Does the base ship have a selfdestruct?"
She shook her head. "No, it's a research vessel, there was no need for one. I was going to overload the drive. Should we-"
Rodney held up a finger. "First, I'll need to convert your shields to a cloak. The Wraith scout ship won't detect the shuttle's lift off, and when the base ship is destroyed, they'll assume everything went with it. Hopefully any Wraith on the ground close enough to notice the shuttle's sudden disappearance won't survive the explosion."
Trishen nodded, starting out of the compartment. "Yes, that's an excellent strategy."
Following her, Rodney's mouth twisted in grim amusement. "We've had some success with it in the past."
She led the way down the passage, past two other small compartments. The shuttle was filled with weird semi-organic devices, in colors from black to purple to pink. John had to admit, disturbing as the organic part was, it didn't look like a Wraith ship. But then the lack of webbing and skeletons and cocooned captives made a big impact.
Trishen stepped into a semi-circular cabin filled with the organic control consoles. Several round holographic displays floated in the air, most of them data readouts. She pointed to one of the consoles. "These are the controls for the shields. Can you-"
"Yes." Rodney studied the rapidly shifting display floating above it, and touched a few of the colored pads. "It's extremely similar to At-" Rodney turned the word into a cough, and finished hurriedly, "To shield consoles I've seen before. It should only take a few minutes."
Teyla kept her expression perfectly neutral and John rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking that was close. Trishen's version of the Pegasus Galaxy wasn't likely to have an Atlantis, unless the Ancients had built one there, but the name might have appeared in their history somewhere. Even if the Mirror was destroyed, John just didn't want to send Trishen home with the idea that there was anything in this reality worth having.
But she hadn't appeared to notice Rodney's near-misstep. She nodded, saying, "Good. I've already set the drive to build up power, but I have to manually disengage the failsafes because-"
Rodney nodded, absorbed in the controls and readouts. "Because the drive is specifically designed not to do what you're trying to make it do, right. Get to it."
She hesitated. "I need to use the main console in the base ship..."
John got it. She didn't want to leave them up here alone, since Rodney was obviously capable of operating the shuttle without her help. He said, "I'll come with you.
She nodded, relieved, and started back into the passage. John followed her, Teyla with him. The passage led into a lock that apparently connected it to the base ship. It was open, but John stopped, lifting a brow.
The shuttle apparently fit into the base ship in such a way that its deck was at a right angle to the base ship's deck. The hatch was looking down the base ship's open central core; straight down, so it appeared as if they should be falling down it already. "Just step through," Trishen said, noticing his hesitation. "The artificial gravity adjusts automatically."
"Okay," John said, figuring he had a fifty-fifty chance of breaking his neck. He stepped through and suddenly found himself standing on the small stair platform, clinging to the railing.
Teyla lifted her brows. "That is clever."
"Yeah." John grimaced, waited until Trishen had stepped through, and gave Teyla a signal to guard the hatch area. She nodded and he followed Trishen down the stairs that spiraled around the core area.
Compartments opened off the platforms on each level, much like the shuttle, only on a slightly larger scale. John realized he could hear a high-pitched buzz from below. Trishen had said the other Wraith were trying to break in. "Is that from t
he outer hatch?"
She said, "Yes, I think they're using some sort of cutting tool to get into the control panel, but that should take them some time." On the next to lowest level, she stopped at another control area, bigger than the shuttle's cockpit, with more of the floating displays. She started hitting control pads, and said, "Main console to shuttle. I've turned on the internal comm throughout the ship, so you can-
Rodney's voice on a loudspeaker interrupted, "Notify you when I'm ready, yes, yes, get to work."
John left her to it, going down half a level until he had a view of the hatch for the main airlock. The buzzing noise from outside the hatch didn't get any louder, but it was still making John's nerves twitch. He listened to Rodney and Trishen talking back and forth on the comm, mostly incomprehensible techno-babble. It sounded like Rodney had finished converting the shields to a cloaking device and they were just waiting on the drive build-up.
Then Rodney's voice said abruptly, "Wait, what the hell is that?" John tensed, pushing to his feet and stepping back onto the platform. Before he could ask what the hell was what, Rodney said, "Trishen, do you have a view of the outer hatch?"
Alarmed, Trishen hit a control. One of the display bubbles expanded to a view of the outside of the ship. The vantage point looked like it was up on the shuttle, and the image was blue-gray, as if it was from a nightvision scope; the daily eclipse must have started.
There was a cluster of drones and a few male Wraith around the ship. Three of the drones had strange tools about the size of an AT-4 Rocket Launcher, and were just pointing them at the outer hatch. The beams came on, so intense the glare washed out the image. Sounding appalled, Trishen said, "They're cutting the hatch out!"
Rodney's voice was sour. "They must have heard the drive build-up and decided not to bother trying to take the ship intact. That's typical."
