Days 1-7 Roundup
Atacus Koyla had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Lanteans."
"Yes sir. It seems to be a factory of some kind."
Koyla looked at the head scientist, who was slowly bleeding out onto the shiny floor. "What exactly were you making here, Doctor?"
The man, hands pressing on his gut wound, shook his head, refusing to answer.
"Commander." One of his men was running his fingers across the silver container with the strange script. They had found the young man a strung out junky. He had been lost, so lost, and Koyla had made it his personal mission to clean him up. He was valuable, and became more so every day. "I can understand some of this."
Yes, more valuable every day. "What does it say, Ermi?"
"This word," He pointed, "means Wraith. And this," he pointed at the strange yellow and black banding. "Means danger."
The scientist whimpered as Koyla hauled him off the ground. "Tell me what's in the container. Last chance."
~~~
From the first taste of the coffee, Stephen could tell there was brandy in it. He gave Elizabeth a puzzled look.
Her fingers were wrapped tightly around her own mug. “You looked like you needed it.”
“I do.” He took another swallow. “Elizabeth…. I’m not supposed to be telling you this.”
“Earth has another base in Pegasus somewhere.” He blinked and she shrugged. “The past six trips have taken three days longer than all the trips before. It was either another base, or you were running illegal cargo. Seeing as you still have your job, we figured it was a base.”
“It’s not that we have a base.” He was especially glad of the brandy when the images of what they’d found played through his head. “It’s that we don’t have it anymore.”
~~~
Once people had realized they could be trusted and the metaphoric (and literal) trap doors opened, it had been surprisingly easy to find a space faring race willing to engage in a little Wraith genocide, provided someone else’s hand dealt the actual blow. In their tiny borrowed craft, attached to the hull of the hive, Koyla waited. Ten hours is both an eternity and a blink of an eye when you’re waiting for the Wraith to finish killing each other.
When his men came back, they confirmed the facts he’d dragged from the Lantean scientist. All but the Queen had turned. It had taken a lot to bring her down, but kneeling over her corpse, Koyla touched a bloody strand of her hair and knew it was worth it. “Let’s go.”
“But the Wraith…”
Were human now and “Not our problem any more.”
~~~
They were Wraith, but not Wraith. Tainted by their brief time as food, the hive that had answered their distress beacon had opened fire. Their pilot had lived, and they'd jumped into hyperspace before they'd been blown apart. Unfortunately, their luck being what it was, the survivors of the Adreck Hive found that while the hyper drive was working, their navigation wasn't and the hyper drive just wouldn't shut off once they got it started. They were excellerating far past safe velocity and while a pilot had indeed survived, all their engineers had all killed each other. They always had had an over developed sense of honor.
Ripping through space, the remaining command staff had poured through technical manuals they couldn't understand until finally, Adreck's last living favorite (an attractive Worker-class who made everyone call him Virn) had punched a hole in his terminal in disgust and shot the hyperdrive with larger and larger weapons until it had blown up. Or imploded. He was a pilot, not a physicist.
When their momentum finally ceased, he looked at the navigator. "Where are we?"
“I don't know. We're off our charts.” His comm panel beeped. “We're being hailed.”
A human-like face appeared on the screen. “Unidentified ship, do you require assistance?”
They were truly far from home if food was offering them assistance. “Our drive has been damaged.”
“Then it is truly fortunate we found you. Hallowed,” The man smiled. “Are the Ori.”
~~~
“We are familiar with the Alterrans, the ones the humans in your galaxy call the Ancestors.” The Prior stood beside Virn on the observation deck. “They are our enemy as well. Truly the Ori have delivered you to us in our time of need.”
“Need? What need do you have of us?” An entire galaxy trembled before his people, but no one *needed* them.
“We are moving against the Earth humans' home world. Six billion people, who believe in not just one false god, but hundreds. Origin must be brought to their world. And on the way there...” The Prior smiled. “There are many who would die rather than embrace the truth that is Origin. We can give them that, with your help. If the survivors of your hive will be our avenging angels, then our gods can give you a great gift.”
“What gift?” He knows only of one gift, the gift of life that he receives from time to time from his brothers.
The Prior snapped his fingers, and a human was brought in chains and dropped at their feet. Virn recognized him. He had been yesterday's lunch, left nothing but a barely alive husk. He was healthy and young again. “I don't understand.”
“Drink from the cup of the Ori, accept Origin, and never be hungry again.” The Prior got the human to his feet so Virn could see he didn't even bear a feeding scar. “None of your hive will ever hunger again.”
Virn sank to his knees, as he had seen the humans do at prayer. “Tell me, my friend. What is an angel?”
~~~
“They keep disappearing.” Rodney never thought he'd be worried about missing hive ships but when a hive a week dropped off their deep space sensors, it was cause for concern. “They're not blowing each other up. Thanks to our new sensor array, we've quadrupled the amount of sky we can see and at least once a week, a hive is issuing a distress call. Someone shows up to help them, and the hive is never seen again. If they're amassing an army somewhere, we need to know.”
“What, exactly,” and Elizabeth was almost afraid to ask. “Are you suggesting we do?”
He almost couldn't believe what he was about to say himself, so her surprise was no shock. “Answer their next distress call, of course.”
"Yes sir. It seems to be a factory of some kind."
Koyla looked at the head scientist, who was slowly bleeding out onto the shiny floor. "What exactly were you making here, Doctor?"
The man, hands pressing on his gut wound, shook his head, refusing to answer.
"Commander." One of his men was running his fingers across the silver container with the strange script. They had found the young man a strung out junky. He had been lost, so lost, and Koyla had made it his personal mission to clean him up. He was valuable, and became more so every day. "I can understand some of this."
Yes, more valuable every day. "What does it say, Ermi?"
"This word," He pointed, "means Wraith. And this," he pointed at the strange yellow and black banding. "Means danger."
The scientist whimpered as Koyla hauled him off the ground. "Tell me what's in the container. Last chance."
~~~
From the first taste of the coffee, Stephen could tell there was brandy in it. He gave Elizabeth a puzzled look.
Her fingers were wrapped tightly around her own mug. “You looked like you needed it.”
“I do.” He took another swallow. “Elizabeth…. I’m not supposed to be telling you this.”
“Earth has another base in Pegasus somewhere.” He blinked and she shrugged. “The past six trips have taken three days longer than all the trips before. It was either another base, or you were running illegal cargo. Seeing as you still have your job, we figured it was a base.”
“It’s not that we have a base.” He was especially glad of the brandy when the images of what they’d found played through his head. “It’s that we don’t have it anymore.”
~~~
Once people had realized they could be trusted and the metaphoric (and literal) trap doors opened, it had been surprisingly easy to find a space faring race willing to engage in a little Wraith genocide, provided someone else’s hand dealt the actual blow. In their tiny borrowed craft, attached to the hull of the hive, Koyla waited. Ten hours is both an eternity and a blink of an eye when you’re waiting for the Wraith to finish killing each other.
When his men came back, they confirmed the facts he’d dragged from the Lantean scientist. All but the Queen had turned. It had taken a lot to bring her down, but kneeling over her corpse, Koyla touched a bloody strand of her hair and knew it was worth it. “Let’s go.”
“But the Wraith…”
Were human now and “Not our problem any more.”
~~~
They were Wraith, but not Wraith. Tainted by their brief time as food, the hive that had answered their distress beacon had opened fire. Their pilot had lived, and they'd jumped into hyperspace before they'd been blown apart. Unfortunately, their luck being what it was, the survivors of the Adreck Hive found that while the hyper drive was working, their navigation wasn't and the hyper drive just wouldn't shut off once they got it started. They were excellerating far past safe velocity and while a pilot had indeed survived, all their engineers had all killed each other. They always had had an over developed sense of honor.
Ripping through space, the remaining command staff had poured through technical manuals they couldn't understand until finally, Adreck's last living favorite (an attractive Worker-class who made everyone call him Virn) had punched a hole in his terminal in disgust and shot the hyperdrive with larger and larger weapons until it had blown up. Or imploded. He was a pilot, not a physicist.
When their momentum finally ceased, he looked at the navigator. "Where are we?"
“I don't know. We're off our charts.” His comm panel beeped. “We're being hailed.”
A human-like face appeared on the screen. “Unidentified ship, do you require assistance?”
They were truly far from home if food was offering them assistance. “Our drive has been damaged.”
“Then it is truly fortunate we found you. Hallowed,” The man smiled. “Are the Ori.”
~~~
“We are familiar with the Alterrans, the ones the humans in your galaxy call the Ancestors.” The Prior stood beside Virn on the observation deck. “They are our enemy as well. Truly the Ori have delivered you to us in our time of need.”
“Need? What need do you have of us?” An entire galaxy trembled before his people, but no one *needed* them.
“We are moving against the Earth humans' home world. Six billion people, who believe in not just one false god, but hundreds. Origin must be brought to their world. And on the way there...” The Prior smiled. “There are many who would die rather than embrace the truth that is Origin. We can give them that, with your help. If the survivors of your hive will be our avenging angels, then our gods can give you a great gift.”
“What gift?” He knows only of one gift, the gift of life that he receives from time to time from his brothers.
The Prior snapped his fingers, and a human was brought in chains and dropped at their feet. Virn recognized him. He had been yesterday's lunch, left nothing but a barely alive husk. He was healthy and young again. “I don't understand.”
“Drink from the cup of the Ori, accept Origin, and never be hungry again.” The Prior got the human to his feet so Virn could see he didn't even bear a feeding scar. “None of your hive will ever hunger again.”
Virn sank to his knees, as he had seen the humans do at prayer. “Tell me, my friend. What is an angel?”
~~~
“They keep disappearing.” Rodney never thought he'd be worried about missing hive ships but when a hive a week dropped off their deep space sensors, it was cause for concern. “They're not blowing each other up. Thanks to our new sensor array, we've quadrupled the amount of sky we can see and at least once a week, a hive is issuing a distress call. Someone shows up to help them, and the hive is never seen again. If they're amassing an army somewhere, we need to know.”
“What, exactly,” and Elizabeth was almost afraid to ask. “Are you suggesting we do?”
He almost couldn't believe what he was about to say himself, so her surprise was no shock. “Answer their next distress call, of course.”