"If you can spare any, yes. But it's crucial that you disable the hyperdrive."
"Copy that," Cadman said. She glanced over her shoulder. "Johnson, Peebles. Chief Radim, can you spare some of your men?"
"Yes." Radim began pointing, sorting out a group, and Cadman took a deep breath.
"Johnson, take these men to join Ms. Emmagan. You're under her command. The rest of you – with me." She touched the radio. "Teyla, I have ten men coming to you."
"Thank you, Captain," Teyla answered.
Cadman looked back at her tablet. It looked as though there was one quick and obvious way to the hive's engineering spaces, and even if the Wraith were waiting for them, she couldn't see a better way. Radim nodded as though he'd read her thought, and pointed to the same corridor.
"This way," he said, and gave her a wry smile. "Sometimes you just have to attack head-on."
"That's what Marines are for, sir," Cadman said. "Johnson! Move out!"
Radek glanced around the cruiser's engine room, squinting in the dim light. About half the consoles were dead, and the others shimmered with caution lights, warning of hull damage and crushed maneuvering vents and dropping power levels throughout the ship. The Wraith – Ember, Teyla had called him – was busy at a secondary console, and a moment later a larger overhead screen lit, showing a series of images from what Radek guessed were the main sensors. Atlantis was still moving toward them, but there were fewer Darts surrounding it, and it looked as though the rest of Death's ships were finally on the defensive.
"What else can we do?" he asked, and Ember glanced at him.
"You see the power drain."
"Yes."
"That is Death's hive, fighting us. We must block it, if we can, or attack in kind."
That made a weird sort of sense, considering that the Wraith ships were in some sense alive, and Radek nodded. "Show me what to do."
There were Wraith ahead of them, Teyla knew, nearly a dozen drones and a pair of blades, but she couldn't pin down the location. Somewhere beyond the next bulkhead, she thought, and waved for Sheffield to slow down. Before she could warn him, however, the bulkhead to her left burst open, and the first pair of drones emerged. Sheffield swung, firing, caught them in the chest; Ramirez, an Atlantis veteran, aimed for the legs, and brought the second pair down kicking, for the next man to finish off. Teyla fired past them, hoping to catch the controlling blades, but they were staying back behind the drones. One of the Marines went down, screaming as a drone fed; the woman behind him leaped to try to rescue him, but another drone batted her aside. She went flying across the corridor and collapsed against the opposite wall. One of the Genii interposed himself, firing his repeating rifle, and then someone hit a blade, and the drones staggered, momentarily uncontrolled. Teyla swung her P90, raking the first rank, and the Marines took out the rest, leaving only bodies. There were still Wraith ahead, Teyla thought, but none alive here.
But she had lost men. Two of the Genii lay withered, and a Marine, and the Marine woman was staggering to her feet, blood covering one side of her face. Another Marine pressed a field dressing to the cut, and she settled her helmet over it, wincing. Lieutenant Sheffield was looking at her, and she forced herself to meet his eyes.
"Which way, ma'am?"
"The control room," Teyla answered. "I sense some Wraith ahead –" She stopped abruptly. "There are more Wraith behind us, too. We must find a way to cut them off. Through here."
They piled through the next hatchway, and she closed the door behind them. The ship would not respond to her, and there was no time to enforce her will; she turned her head away and fired into the controls. They exploded in a burst of spark and flame and she turned away to see Sheffield grinning.
"Ma'am, it looks like the next cross corridor's a strong point. A couple of us could hold off those guys behind us, keep them off your back."
And die doing it, Teyla thought. But there was no other way. "Yes," she said, and hurried on.
Ember bent over the controls, biting back a cold fury. This ship was old, too old for battle; it should be safe in orbit somewhere, where blades could learn to pilot and budding clevermen could learn their trade easing its death. To bring it here, stitched full of explosives – to demand that it fight – that was abomination indeed. He spread both hands flat on the console, heedless of his handmouth, seeking the cruiser's will. For a moment, there was nothing, and he caught his breath, afraid that it was too far gone, but then he felt it, the slow pulse that was not intelligent but not unliving, either. Feed, he whispered, you are starving. Feed. He felt it respond, fumbling toward the hive's greater life, and looked over his shoulder at the human cleverman.
"The umbilicals. Extend them."
"Yes, yes." The human hit the correct sequence, then reached for the levers, guiding the heavy cable across the few meters that separated the ships. "Okay, it says they are touching – they have set."
"Yes," Ember said aloud, and nudged the cruiser again. Feed, there is life for the taking.... He felt it fumble and then latch on, drawing power with more assurance. "That will cause them trouble."
"What exactly are we doing?" the human asked.
"I have enabled our ship to feed off Death's hive – to do what they were trying to do to us," Ember answered. "That will drain their power plant, and make it much harder for them to escape."
"I think you have annoyed someone," the human said, and pointed to the main display.
Ember snarled at the sight. Another cruiser was heading toward them, visibly damaged, but with forward weapons charged and ready. "They will try to knock us loose."
The human touched his ear. "Eva! We are coming under attack –"
The cruiser fired, the volley ragged, and Ember ducked in spite of himself. "Quickly –"
The decking rattled, the entire ship shuddering. Alarms blared – atmosphere leak, power loss, life support failure – and Ember grabbed the human by the shoulder. "We must get to your jumper –"
Another shot hit, and more alarms blared, gravity wavering for an instant before it was restored.
"If we can," the human said, grimly, but scrambled ahead of him up the narrow corridor.
Chapter Twenty-five
Queen to Queen
Smoke swirled around Waterlight like a living thing, twisting through the corridors of Queen Death's hive ship. Only Bronze was with her now. The last drone was dead, and Waterlight had watched Thorn twist before her, shielding her with his shredded body. The air was acrid and stank.
Ahead the bulkhead door was closed. “We must open it,” Waterlight said.
Bronze nodded. His hair had fallen from its clasp and fell over his shoulders, matted with blood and other things. “I will go first,” he said, his hand on the door override.
“I will let no more men die for me,” Waterlight said. “Because I am queen.”
Her hand was on his wrist, and so she knew what he did not need to say. Not because she was queen, but because she was Waterlight. Not a distant hope, a privilege and an ambition, but the friend of all his years since he had come aboard as a thin and half-grown fosterling, his Waterlight, his playmate turned princess, his only family.
“We will go together,” she said, with no word for this strange tenderness that stirred in her. “Whatever there is, we will face it together.”
He nodded and opened the door.
Less smoke but more bodies. A half dozen drones lay dead, and there were two humans as well, one withered to a husk while another bent over him. All dead, Waterlight thought, and then the bending one straightened.
It was a human woman, slight and dark, the muzzle of her weapon rising to track them in an instant.
And then her eyes widened with recognition, the point of the weapon dropping again, her relief shuddering through the air like a palpable thing. A worshipper? But would Death arm her worshippers thus? Yet her relief was almost audible, as though she had said their names aloud. As though she had spoken mind to mind.
&nbs
p; "Who are you?" Waterlight said, but even as she spoke, she knew. The feel of the woman's mind was unmistakable, though her face was unfamiliar. Her stance was the same, her height, her way of moving. And her mind. “Steelflower.”
“I am Teyla Emmagan of Atlantis,” the woman said, and her weapon pointed to the floor, standing before them as though she feared nothing. And why should she? She did not see what humans saw, Blade and Queen, bloodthirsty revenants, but frightened younglings barely out of childhood, adult estate thrust upon them by war, stained by the blood of their kin shed to protect them.
“What are you?” Waterlight said. Steelflower and not....
“I am human,” she said. "And I am not. I am Teyla Emmagan of the line of Osprey. A cleverman in days past mingled his blood with that of my human ancestors. And I am Steelflower. I took the name and appearance of a young queen who was lost.”
Bronze frowned. “Why would you do that?” The stunner in his hand did not rise.
She held her hands out to the side. “What man would follow me otherwise?”
Steelflower. And not. A human woman, given the blood of Osprey by a renegade cleverman.... And in that moment the paths of the future and the past stretched out before Waterlight, clear as the path of sun on water, all the twists and turns made straight
“And my kinswoman still,” she said, “Steelflower or not. That cleverman was my mother's brother. Brother and sister there were, and you are of him and I of her, your grandmother and mine the same .”
Teyla blinked. That did indeed surprise her.
“You did not lie to me,” Waterlight said. “Though you meant to.”
“I did not lie when I offered you alliance with Guide,” she said.
Waterlight reached out her off hand, touching it to her wrist, queen to queen. “You are Guide's queen.” And how not? He could not rally men against Death without a queen at his side, no matter how she appeared or what she truly was.
“I am of Atlantis.”
“Who are Guide's allies,” Waterlight said. “But we are united in one thing.”
“We must end this,” Bronze said, his voice surprisingly steady.
Teyla smiled, and her eyes closed for a moment, watering at the corners. “We must,” she said. “Will you face Queen Death with me?”
“We will,” Waterlight said.
There was only one way it could ever end – queen to queen.
The Wraith tried to stop them twice on the way to the engine room, and each time Cadman blasted through, leaving bodies behind them in the dim corridors. Not so many of Radim's, and none of hers, for which she was unabashedly grateful, and plenty of dead drones, which was even better. The hatch that gave access to the engineering spaces was locked, and one of the Genii fiddled for a moment with the controls before he stepped away, shaking his head.
"C4," Cadman said, and reached into her pocket.
"They'll be expecting you to blow the door," Radim said.
She nodded, molding the soft explosive around the central node. "Yes, sir. But I don't see any alternative. I figure we follow up with flashbangs and then rush them."
Radim nodded sharply. "Good idea, Captain," he said, and turned to give the orders.
She set the fuses and waved her people back into shelter, pulling out the remote detonator. She gave them all a final look, her Marines ready with stun grenades, the Genii with their repeating rifles ready, and raised her hand. "Fire in the hole!"
The door blew in with a satisfying whump, and her people followed with the stun grenades, rushing the smoking opening on the heels of the first flat crack. She charged after them, planted her back against the nearest bulkhead to give covering fire. The cavernous space echoed with the sound of gunfire and the roars of the angry Wraith, and then, abruptly, there was silence. She straightened, automatically checking her people. Hernandez was down, and her breath caught, but his face was unchanged and even as she realized that, he began to stir. Just stunned, then, she thought, and kept counting. Four, five more Genii down, and Radim was bleeding from a cut along his forehead, but they were still in business.
"Okay," she said, swinging her P90 so that its light played across the tangle of cords and weird organic stuff in the center of the room. "What next, sir?"
Radim swabbed impatiently at the blood on his face, and pointed to one of the objects protruding from the ceiling. It was wrapped in what looked like vines, or maybe tendons, and a web of more fleshy cording connected it to consoles below it and to the bulkheads to either side. Within that sheath, a bulbous cylindrical core glowed softly orange. "That's the hyperdrive. If we can disable that, Queen Death won't be able to escape."
Cadman reached into her pocket, pulled out another packet of C4. "Can do, sir."
“The control room is this way,” Teyla said mind to mind, sheltering behind the corner of a wall. The corridors of the hive ship were filled with smoke, the air thin. Somewhere there had been a hull breach now sealed, but the damaged systems had not fully managed to restore life support. Waterlight and Bronze stood behind her, Bronze with a pike taken from a drone, Waterlight with a stunner. They were not what she would choose for a boarding party, but with her radio smashed she could not know where any of the others were.
“How many?” Bronze asked, as Waterlight put her hand to the wall.
Her eyes closed. “Seven, maybe eight.”
“Too many,” Teyla said. She could not rush the control room with three on seven or eight, certainly not with two who were practically children. They must wait for her team. John would be in the chair in Atlantis, but surely Ronon would come soon. Or Cadman. Cadman and a Marine team would be welcome. Surely they were aboard.
Waterlight reared away from the wall, her eyes opening. “She knows I'm here!” she said. “She felt me. She knows we are here.”
“Retreat,” Teyla said. “This way.”
They scrambled back down the corridor, Teyla dropping back to cover them. Behind, the door of the control room opened, and she felt as clearly as if she'd seen – Queen Death and four of her blades. She would handle this personally. The arrival of another queen on her hive was a challenge old as the Wraith themselves. A more prudent queen might have waited or sent only her men, but Queen Death was hotheaded and angry. She did not stop to think. Or perhaps she was only too used to having her own way.
“This way!” Waterlight had retreated into the first room, the outer hall of the zenana, deserted now during the battle, a little table on its side, the game pieces scattered across the floor. Bronze looked around the door, the pike in his hands. Their fear was almost palpable.
That would not work, Teyla thought. They would retreat until they reached a door that would not open. Fortunately, Death was so focused on the young queen that she would not expect–
Teyla lunged out, P90 rising with a spray of bullets across the corridor. The two foremost blades pitched under the hail of fire, one dropping to his knees and the other reeling against the wall as Teyla slid into cover on the other side of the hall.
And still they came on, Death and the other two men. They would simply overwhelm her.
Teyla dove across again, firing as she went, a knee-high raking fire. She heard a bellow of pain and stunner bolts streaked just over her head, coalescing against the wall behind her. She landed hard on her right hip, the old bone bruise shrieking in pain, slowing her down. A blade stood over her, stunner in hand.
And then it was knocked away by a pike, flying from the Wraith's hand. Bronze brought it around backhanded, slashing the blade across the forearms. “Run!” he yelled as Teyla got to her feet.
Stunner fire followed them as they dived through the doorway, Waterlight closing it just behind them, as Bronze pitched into Teyla. .
“Bronze!” Waterlight shrieked, catching at him.
Teyla leapt for the door control. “Do not open,” she told it. “Seal.”
Three stunner blasts had caught him at once. Bronze lay unmoving on the floor. Waterlight put her hand a
gainst his face. “Please be well!”
“He is stunned,” Teyla said. She felt a heavy thud against the door. “He will live if we do. But I cannot hold this door. This is Death's zenana. She will simply order it open and the ship will obey.”
The door shuddered open. Teyla brought up the P90. Bullets flew, and the remaining blade fell back under withering fire. Two shots caught Queen Death in the chest, but she stepped through it calmly, her hand closing about Teyla's neck. She lifted her off her feet like a rag doll and threw her across the room. Teyla's head struck the wall, and she knew no more.
They were almost at the shuttle bay. Radek forced himself onward, his leg burning from the old injury, the Wraith – Ember – panting at his heels. The deck felt unsteady underfoot: either the gravity was going, or the inertial dampeners, or maybe both. Something exploded down a side corridor, a flash of light and heat, and he heard Ember snarl behind him. Only a little further – yes, there was the beacon they had left behind when they first came on board. He made himself stop, check the door controls to be sure there was atmosphere in the bay, and touched his radio again.
"Eva! We are at the door."
"You'd better hurry," she answered. "I don't know how much longer this is going to hold together."
"We are hurrying," Radek answered, and the door slid back. The puddle jumper was waiting, tailgate down and ready, but Ember turned back to do something to the console beside the entrance. "Come on!"
"I must seal this hatch, or we will not be able to open the bay door," Ember answered. As he spoke the door began to move, but there was a snapping sound overhead. Radek looked up to see the central conduit splitting open, raining sparks and debris, knew in an instant that he would not be able to avoid it. And then Ember lunged at him, faster than a human could move, shoving them both toward the jumper's open stern. Radek fell, sliding to a stop at the end of the tailgate, the deck wavering unpleasantly beneath him, looked back to see the Wraith half buried by a pile of smoking debris.
SGA-21 - Inheritors - Book VI of the Legacy Series Page 29
