"I am so terribly sorry," Carson said softly.
"So am I," Jennifer said. She swallowed hard and brushed away tears she couldn't afford yet. "But we still have work to do."
"That we do," Carson said, and turned to check on their patients. They'd have more than enough work soon.
Just Fortune leaped willingly into battle, all systems perfect, glad in its way to finally do its part. Guide rested his hands on the controls, half in and half out of the ship-trance, a skill he had perfected over the years. The ship responded eagerly to his familiar touch, arcing up and over the dome of Atlantis's shields to bear down on the other hive. Mist's hive, he thought, or perhaps Noontide's; the two ships had been very nearly indistinguishable, grown from similar Seeds in the same year. It didn't matter. He could see the marks of damage on their mottled hide, could hear the blades at the guns marking those wounds and setting their targets. The hive could flee, or it could die.
A part of him wondered distantly why Sheppard had waited so long, why they had sacrificed McKay in the end, for sacrifice it had been, there had been no mistaking the true grief in Sheppard’s voice. Was it possible that Death had retained some hold over him, broken only at the last moment, in time to make that final choice? Or had Sheppard and McKay had to act alone, overruling Woolsey and Carter's Consort? Most likely he would never know, and a part of him regretted that, even as he regretted McKay's death. But the main thing, the vital thing, was that Hyperion's weapon was destroyed, and he would fulfill his part of the bargain.
A second hive was drifting damaged at the edge of the battle, but he could see thrusters firing, struggling to bring the ship back into the battle. Better to stop that before it started, he thought, and opened a channel to the rest of his fleet.
"Copper, Thunder, take the damaged hive."
The two smaller cruisers peeled away, heading for the struggling hive. Guide saw its thrusters flare again, ragged and uneven, unable to turn in time to meet the attack. Energy weapons sliced across heavy hide, scoring deep into the hive's systems. The hive rolled, trailing vapor, main engines firing. It dropped out of the plane of the ecliptic, the cruisers in pursuit, but the hive opened a hyperspace window and was gone.
"Leave them," Guide said, and the cruisers turned, obedient. In his own screens, the less damaged hive swung to meet him, weapons blazing. He saw them strike home, felt the ship's pain and anger and steadied it on its course. His gunners had their targets, he could hear the chatter confirming it, but discipline held. A little longer, he thought, just a little more –
"Fire," he said, mind and voice alike, and Just Fortune staggered with the weight of its own attack. Lines of light cut across the darkness, spearing the other hive, each weak point targeted and hit. The other hive shuddered, bucking, and then a hole opened in its hull just aft of the central gap. Atmosphere boiled free, and then the explosion followed.
"Atlantis," he said, switching to the familiar channel. "Sheppard."
"He's busy." That was Carter's Consort, O'Neill. Of course Sheppard would be in ship-trance.
Guide said, "Farseer and Copper will remain to cover you. If I share our Dart code, can you get it to your ships? I do not wish my people destroyed by their allies."
"Send it over," O'Neill said. "We'll pass it on."
Guide touched his controls, releasing the identifying code. "Can you read that?"
There was a moment's pause, and then O'Neill said, "We have it. I'm transmitting it to our ships and the 302s."
"Then we will take the fight to Queen Death," Guide said. He looked across the control room. “Bonewhite. Can you give me another short jump?”
Bonewhite bared teeth in a fighting smile. “Already calculated, Commander.”
“Excellent. Whenever you're ready, then.”
Just Fortune gathered itself beneath him, and leaped into the night.
Jack frowned at the tac display again. Yeah, Guide finally getting himself into the fight was making a difference. Atlantis had some breathing room, and Guide's Darts were mixing it up with Queen Death's, but – the drifting cruiser was still on what looked like a collision course with the city. He looked to Zelenka's station – Dr. Kusanagi had taken over there, her hands busy and her expression intent – and he came to look over her shoulder.
"Not to bother you, Doc, but isn't that cruiser still coming toward us?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so, General." She gave him an apologetic look, as though it were somehow her fault. "But Teyla will take care of it."
"Yeah." Jack stepped away, studying the converging line, then looked at Woolsey. "Any word from Teyla?"
"Not yet." Woolsey's expression was grim.
Crap. Jack touched his radio. "Sheppard. We're still converging on that cruiser."
There was a pause before Sheppard answered. "I'm working on it, General."
Work harder. Jack swallowed the words, and looked back at the screen. A light was flashing at the bottom of the screen, Ancient characters glowing red, and for a moment he wished he hadn't sent Daniel down to keep an eye on the civilians. But you didn't have to read Ancient to be able to guess that it was a collision alert. "Come on, Sheppard," he said, under his breath, and clasped his hands behind his back.
John sank deeper into the chair's embrace, frowning as the damaged cruiser drifted slowly closer. The city was worried, alarms flashing somewhere distant; closer at hand, it presented a series of new courses, fanning away from the cruiser. That one, John thought, and felt the engines fire, the city shifting ponderously. And then the steady rumble faltered, an overloaded conduit crumpling, and he swore silently. Shut it down!
The city was there ahead of him, feathering controls, opening new routes and damping out the power surge. The outrush slowed, steadied: the North Pier engines were now at 40 percent of capacity. Any more, the city whispered, and the entire system would collapse. He let the power fade in the other engines, balancing the output and steadying the city against the system's gravity. In the back of his mind, he felt more power flowing to the shield, the city ready to re-expand its coverage, but he held it back. Wait on that, he said. Let's see where we are first.
The city displayed the new course. They'd pulled away from the cruiser, but not far enough; they'd still pass close enough for the cruiser's wing to brush against the very edge of the trailing pier. Put on the brakes? he thought, and the city showed the solution: still not enough. They didn't have enough power to do anything except re-extend the shield....
"Sheppard!"
O'Neill had said his name before, John realized, and he let himself rise out of the city's embrace. "General, we're going to restore the full shield."
"I thought you said we didn't have enough power for that," Woolsey said sharply.
"We didn't. But I told you, we've overloaded our repairs, so we can't put through as much power to the engines. We've got that to spare, plus we're not under direct attack –"
"And if that cruiser hits us, we want the shield," O'Neill said, his voice grim. "Do it, Colonel."
John felt the shield wash over him, expanding like long-held breath. Much better, more comfortable, a too-tight collar loosed at last.
"What about the cruiser?" O'Neill asked.
"It's up to Teyla now," John answered.
Teyla stood in the commander's place, her hands buried in the controls, eyes closed as she fought to bring the cruiser under her will. It was old and stubborn and afraid; it did not know her touch and did not trust it, fought to do what it had been told. Distantly, she could hear the Marines' chatter – Radek in the core of the ship, working to untangle the array of fuses; Eva in the shuttle bay; Sheffield close at hand, relaying readouts from the various consoles. It did not matter. All that mattered was the cruiser, her hands on its controls, her will bending it to obedience. The engines were damaged, the control circuits balky; half the dorsal thrusters were inoperable, and the cruiser wanted nothing more than to fulfill its mission.
No, she said gently. That is cancelled. Yo
u will turn away, and I will take you home to be made whole.
The cruiser had Atlantis in its sights, Ancient enemy, and would not respond, yearning toward destruction.
"Ms. Emmagan!"
She looked up sharply, eyes flying open. "I don't have time –"
"Ms. Emmagan, I'm sorry, but General O'Neill wants to know your progress." Sheffield peered worriedly at her from across the commander's station, and it was all she could do not to bare teeth at him.
"Tell him I am aware of the problem," she said, tightly. "I am working on it."
"Yes, ma'am."
Teyla closed her eyes again, focusing all her strength on the cruiser's controls. I am queen, she said, and you will obey....
O'Neill scowled at the tactical display, the warning flashing more urgently below the converging course lines. Yeah, I know it's going to hit us, he thought. Give me some options here. Behind the cruiser, the other hiveship hung between them and the rest of the battle, and he turned abruptly to the communications station.
"Banks. Can you get me the commander of that hive out there?"
"I'll try." She adjusted her microphone with one hand, and touched keys with the other. A moment later, a screen lit, a bald Wraith staring out at him with bared teeth.
"This is O'Neill," Jack said. "We've got a problem with that cruiser."
"I am aware of that," the Wraith commander answered, "but there is nothing we can do that you cannot." He stopped abruptly, glancing over his shoulder at a long-haired Wraith who stood just outside the camera's focus. "Wait. This one has volunteered to help your crew. He is a cleverman, and an expert at ships' systems. I will send him across at once."
"We'll take him," Jack said. "I'll inform my people to expect him." And let's hope he's as good as you say.
Just Fortune and the cruisers Adamant and Evermore swept down on Death's fleet, Guide still wavering between ship-trance and full awareness. Death had not been expecting their move, or had not believed in it; her second hive scrambled to interpose itself between Death and the incoming ships. Evermore dived beneath it, weapons blazing a path across the hive's belly. Adamant followed, but too slowly. Guide snarled, seeing the mistake, and the first shot struck the engines, sending Adamant careening sideways, its commander fighting for control. Death's hive swung to bring its guns to bear, and Evermore interposed itself, taking fire for a fleeting moment before Death's hive had to swing back to face the Lantean ships. Adamant was tumbling slowly, Darts spilling from its bays as non-essential crew abandoned the ship, and Evermore came around again, applying a tractor to steady it while its crew fought for control.
Guide snarled again, hearing Evermore's commander organizing the evacuation, and brought Just Fortune around to strafe the other hive before it could fire on the cruisers. Just Fortune shuddered, the maneuver stresses tugging at its bones, but held firm. The other hive swung to engage, and he felt its first shots strike the hull.
“Fire as you will,” he said, and felt the blades respond, a seemingly ragged volley of fire as each gun took its best shot. He saw the bolts strike home, leaving long marks, but the other hive was as tough as his own, suffered no worse damage. He rolled left, accepting additional damage to protect the cruisers, twisting to try to give at least the dorsal guns a decent shot.
“Adamant's commander reports that all his men are off the ship,” Bonewhite said.
Guide nodded, the battle unfolding in the tactical screen. The Lantean ships were still hard pressed along with the strange hive that had joined them. If he could only get across, he could buy them time – but Death's other hive still had him solidly engaged. “Tell Thunder to engage Death's hive.”
“He can't hold them,” Bonewhite said.
“No.” Guide glared at the screens, seeing the strange hive falter, bleeding atmosphere for an instant before its clevermen sealed the wound. “But our ally needs help.”
Bonewhite spoke into his communicator, and in the screen Thunder's hive rolled away from the tangle of Darts. It dove on Death's hive, Thunder cutting between the stranger and Death, shooting for the gap that opened as both pilots pulled away. A beautiful maneuver, Guide thought, except his timing was imperfect. Death's gunners caught him as he tried to turn, and flame blossomed from the hive's stern.
“Thunder has lost engines,” Bonewhite said. “Shall we assist?"
“No.” Thunder could hold out a little longer; there were more important targets. “Take out this hive,” Guide said, teeth bared, and his gunners answered, each firing as they found their target. The hive staggered under the volume of fire, and the first serious damage showed black on its hull. Evermore swept up and under, harrying, and Guide turned again, accepting hits to bring the greatest number of guns to bear on the target.
The other hive hung for an instant in the center of the attack, then blew apart, the fireball washing over Just Fortune. Guide steadied his ship, the litany of damage pulsing against his skin. Nothing serious, nothing they couldn't handle, and in the communications screen Evermore reported similar status. The stranger hive was still fighting, the Lantean ship and the Genii's Ancient warship struggling to stay with it, but not enough of their shots were striking home. The Lanteans and Genii he could excuse, they didn't know the stress points, the best targets – but the stranger's commander seemed no more experienced. He put Just Fortune into a turn, but Queen Death saw and turned to meet him.
Ember brought the borrowed Dart into the shuttle bay, the doors sealing behind him, and settled it with its weapons carefully pointing away from the Lantean shuttle. Its door opened as he clambered from the cockpit revealing three humans with lowered weapons; the Dart's system clamored at him, warning him of a readied drone as well. He lifted his hands, showing them empty, and hoped the humans had been warned of his arrival.
"I have been sent to help."
There was a silence, and his muscles tensed. He could survive the first shots, but the Lantean weapons were more than capable of overwhelming his ability to regenerate.
"Yeah." That was their leader, short and stocky, and the noise of the Dart faded away as the drone disarmed itself. "Ling, Grazyk, take him to the control room."
I know the way. Ember swallowed the words, knowing they were pointless – nor would he have allowed a strange human to roam a hive without escort. Instead, he let them surround him, one before, one behind, hurrying down the main corridor toward the control room. They passed bodies, Death's blades crumpled where they fell, and he heard the man behind him cock his weapon nervously. Ember ignored him, though every knob of his spine felt tingly and exposed, and at last they came to the control room.
"Lieutenant! It's Ling. We've brought the Wraith."
The door slid open, revealing a handful of humans at the consoles, and a human woman standing in the commander's place, her hands steady on the controls. Surely that could not be right, Ember thought; a commander controlled the ship through force of will, just as a queen controlled her hive, but no human could speak mind to mind – except that manifestly she was doing so. Her eyes opened and she fixed him with a startled look.
“Ember.”
The mind was Steelflower's, enough to send him to his knees before he thought, but he looked up, frowning, knowing his confusion was plain to read. “Lady?”
The human's mind was closed to him, tight as fingers protecting the handmouth, and yet even the stance, everything about her said she was his queen. “How –?”
“There is no time for explanations.”
The mental touch was unmistakably Steelflower, complex and beautiful and sharp as the metal that made her name. And the body was human, impossible, brown eyes and brown skin and nothing Wraith about her except the touch of her mind on his.
“We must turn the cruiser,” she said. “It will obey, but it is slow. Something holds it back. Find it, Ember, find it and fix it for me.”
Ember rose to obey, checked for an instant still in disbelief. This could not be his queen, and yet it was – and there was
no time for that. In the main screen, Atlantis loomed, too near, too large. She had spoken truth there, whoever, whatever, she was: there was no time left. He turned on his heel, surveying the consoles. Yes, there, the engineering display looked off, and he moved quickly to call up its details. Someone had installed a governor, restricting power, restricting the use of the maneuver engines. He ran his hands across the boards, and was not surprised when they did not respond.
"Ms. Emmagan," one of the humans said. "Atlantis says it can't evade –"
"I'm trying," Steelflower answered, her frustration almost palpable. "Ember!"
He did not answer, but whirled to the next console. It would be easier to override the blockages from the Hivemaster's station, and he remembered codes from his time on Death's hive. He entered them, holding his breath, and a window lit, data cascading down the screen. There – there was the block, and there the codes that would release it; he punched in the numbers, reached for levers to control the shifting power. “Try now, Lady.”
"Yes." The word reached ears and mind alike, and he felt the old ship respond at last to her touch, grateful for the sure hand that steered it. In the main screen, Atlantis's image seemed to fall away, though it was they who moved, tilting ponderously out of its path.
“Well done,” Steelflower said, generous and proud, and in the same moment the human woman spoke. "Radek! What about the fuses?"
"The proximity fuses are disabled," a voice answered. "But the bombs are still live."
“How?" Ember asked again. “How can you be my queen?”
The woman turned to look at him, her mind brushing his with gentle regret. “I am Teyla Emmagan, Teyla of Athos, Teyla Who Walks Through Gates, and I am Steelflower, Osprey's many-times-great granddaughter. Long ago, a cleverman mingled his blood with that of humans, and the end result is me.”
SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series Page 27
