Out of Legends, Part 16 - Liberation
Title: Out of Legends
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page
Author's notes:
Some elements might seem familiar from the three-parter “The Siege”. However, let me assure you that they are, in fact, very different from the original.
Beta read by erinnyes, thanks.
CHAPTER 16 - LIBERATION
Carson and Rodney, who’d watched the screen anxiously, slumped into two empty chairs, weakened with relief.
“Oh, thank God!” they said in unison.
Behind them, Sergeant Lenoir was already organizing the return of everyone who was willing to help hunting down and finishing off the Wraith still in the city. The Stargate was dialled up and a wormhole to the Alpha site was established. A moment later the radio crackled again.
“Atlantis, what is your situation?” the leader of the cavalry asked.
Theresa looked at Lorne. “You speak to him, Major - two soldiers understand each other better during battle.”
Lorne nodded. “Understood, ma’am.” Then he raised his voice a little. “Captain Hunt, this is Major Lorne. We’ve suffered some damage and lost quite a few people, but we’ll live. The main problem is that there still are a lot of Darts out there, and we can’t power up the defensive shields. I don’t think this battle is over yet.”
“He is right,” someone aboard the unknown ship said. “The Dart fleet is regrouping.”
“Take your position and stand by for defensive fire,” the captain ordered.
“We are not the target,” the other voice, most likely that of the ship’s weapons officer, answered. “The formation is headed towards Atlantis.”
“Can we intercept?” the captain asked.
“The slipfighters can, but we might not be fast enough,” a female voice, presumably that of the ship’s pilot, replied.
“Well, try,” the captain said. “How many targets?”
“Dozens,” the weapons officer’s voice again. “Close to one hundred, in fact.”
“Fire at will,” the captain said. “Slipfighters, move in to intercept as many of them as possible. Rommie, how many combat drones do we have left?”
“Perhaps two dozen or so,” a slightly artificial-sounding female voice answered.
“Redirect them to protect the city,” the captain ordered. “Beka, best speed!”
The people in Atlantis’ Control room watched the screen with bated breath. The dots representing the numerous Wraith Darts approached the city with alarming speed. The four slipfighters of the Andromeda, however, were even faster, reaching the city way before the darts, and taking up defensive positions, while Andromeda herself was firing at them from behind and the combat drones were attacking from the sides. Nonetheless, the Darts still vastly outnumbered them, and it seemed that sooner or later, a few of them would get through.
“This won’t work,” Zelenka said gloomily. “Their approach is ballistic, and there aren’t enough ships to intercept them.”
“What do you mean 'ballistic'?” Theresa asked.
“Their impact velocities will be in excess of ten thousand kilometres an hour,” Zelenka explained. “No part of the city can withstand that.”
“I see,” Theresa said. She was beyond fear by now; the only feeling she still had was a strange serenity. “Sergeant, hold on with the return of our people from the Alpha site for… how much time do we have?”
“Forty-five seconds,” Zelenka replied.
“Crap,” McKay sighed. “We’re so dead.”
“Not necessarily,” a shockingly familiar voice answered through the radio. “I still have my… package here and am on my way to deploy it in the middle of the Wraith swarm. I’ll detonate it with a well-aimed shot in twenty seconds… or so I hope.”
Zelenka tilted his head in surprise. “Lieutenant Lindstrom? But we’ve seen explosion… we thought…”
“Later, doc,” Lisa interrupted. “Package deployed. Slipfighters, get the hell out of there at my mark. This is gonna be a big explosion in five… four… three… two… MARK!”
The slipfighters wheeled out of the way with incredible speed and skills. Through the windows of the Control room, the Atlantis people could see the whole sky above the Lantean ocean turn blinding white. The screen displayed the devastating effects of the explosion, caused by the makeshift naquadah bomb… then all screens went temporarily dark, as the detonation EMP hit the city’s systems. Fortunately, the Earth-issue laptops were still powered down, or they’d have burned out beyond repair.
As the flash subsided, Carson opened his laptop to check the radiation levels.
“Slightly above the usual tolerance limits but nothin’ we couldnae cure easily,” he reported in relief.
“That’s good to hear,” Theresa said with a tired smile. “Radek, what about the Darts?”
“Scanners need recovery time,” Zelenka shrugged, “but we’re still here, so it must have been successful maneuver, ne?”
“But if Lieutenant Lindstrom hasn’t blown up the last hive ship, who’s done it?” Lorne asked.
“My guess would be newly arrived ship with long name,” Zelenka slid to the floor and leaned against the bulkhead. “Need sleep now.” And he felt promptly asleep, shoulders slumped forward, chin resting on his chest.
Rodney wanted to shake him awake but Theresa didn’t allow it.
“Give him a few minutes,” she said. “Let’s try to find out what’s happened to the Darts before you chase him back to work.”
Rodney opened his mouth to protest - after all, he wasn’t allowed to rest, either - but a second glance at Zelenka’s face, grey with exhaustion, made him change his mind. Radek was smaller and physically weaker than him; a couple of years older, too. He needed those few minutes, even if there was no hope for more.
“Right, right,” he said, too highly strung to rest right now anyway. “Let’s call that ship, should we?”
But before they could have done so, a static-filled message came through the loudspeakers.
“Atlantis… I repeat… This is Hunt. What’s your status?”
Zelenka opened one bleary eye and looked up to Theresa like a bird. “Explosions… must have disrupted… radio signals,” he whispered. Then that one eye fell shut again and he began to snore softly.
“Well, we’re still here,” Rodney answered to the captain of the Andromeda snappishly. “That’s our status.”
“Rodney,” Theresa warned. “We’re well enough, Captain Hunt, thanks for your assistance.”
“Glad to be of help,” Hunt replied. “We’re going to stay in geosynchronous orbit for the time being. Can we be of any further assistance?”
“As a mater of fact… yes, you can,” Theresa answered. “We still have an unknown number of Wraith in the city that need to be dealt with.”
“I’ll send down everyone who can help with that,” Hunt promised. “Is there any place where our fighters can land?”
“They can use the east pier as a landing zone,” Sergeant Lenoir said at Theresa’s questioning look.
“I’ve heard it,” Hunt said. “Any idea where inside the city those Wraith might be?”
Theresa looked at Lenoir again, who shook his head.
“Afraid not, sir,” he replied. “Most of our sensors are still down, but we do know that several dozen of them might have beamed out of their kamikaze fighters in the last moment. We’ll provide more data as soon as we can have them.”
“All right,” Hunt said. “The slipfighters have just landed. Their pilots are sentient insects, so don’t panic if you see human-sized bugs roaming the city. Try not to shoot them. The rest of us will board the Eureka Maru and follow. Hunt out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Aiden Ford and his team had never learned about the lucky turn of events that had ended the siege of Atlantis with the - at least temporary - defeat of the Wraith and the loss of all three hive ships and their darts. They had taken up their defensive positions right after Sheppard’s suicide run, and were soon thereafter way too occupied to watch their surroundings, having to face off against two teams of Wraith and their guards who have beamed down in front of and behind the team simultaneously.
Not to mention so close that the Marines had barely enough room to aim their weapons at the Wraith.
“Defence!” Aiden ordered through clenched teeth. He knew it was hopeless, that they didn’t stand a rat’s chance, but he also knew they wouldn’t give their lives cheaply. The more of these monsters they could take out, the less threat it meant to the rest of Atlantis.
The Marines opened fire. They were a well-trained unit, perhaps the best in the city, but Wraith were notoriously hard to kill… and way too close to begin with. Some of them went down for good, but the rest of them rushed in and went hand-to-hand with the Marines. Bosco Teague was the first who was shot - not with a stunner but with some sort of energy weapon that caused an ugly, bleeding wound on his midriff. McKinney and Rickman got tossed around and thrown to the ground, their limbs in a grotesquely twisted position that made them look like broken dolls. Toussaint fired at the Wraith like a madman, dodging their attacks with surprising agility (even for him), until one of them shot him in the back.
That left Aiden and Yamato - a short, deceivingly slender soldier of Japanese origins, who could throw around beefy Marines twice his size, under normal circumstances. He went against the Wraith in the same fearless manner. But these monsters were larger and much stronger than any human being - or a Jaffa, for that matter. The strength and the martial arts skills that had helped Yamato to stand up to Teal’c back at the SGC proved insufficient against the Wraith.
The terrible, dry snap as his neck was broken distracted Aiden for one fateful second - just long enough for one of the Wraith guards to grab him by the throat and push him up against the balcony.
That was it, and he knew it. There was no-one to help him now. His men were scattered on the metal floor all around him, dead or dying. Badly wounded, 'Boss' Teague, next to him, had still the strength - barely - to take the pin out of a grenade, and Aiden mentally thanked him for the upcoming quick and merciful death.
The Wraith, still holding Aiden by the throat, raised its other hand and slammed it into Aiden’s chest. The pain was more intense than anything Aiden had ever felt before - as if he’d been torn apart alive, piece by piece. He thought of Colonel Sumner for a fleeting moment, thankful that Sheppard had been there to deal the man a merciful death… just as Teague would do for him in seconds. He couldn’t see Teague move anymore - the big man must have passed out… or died. But he could see the grenade rolling from his hand, right to the Wraith’s feet… where it exploded. The shockwave threw him - and the Wraith, whose back had been fully hit by the explosion - over the balcony, and together they plunged into the ocean below.
Fortunately for Aiden, he was already unconscious when they hit the ice cold water.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Eureka Maru landed on the east pier of Atlantis, where they were welcomed by a tall, coldly handsome man wearing some sort of military uniform. The man had dark blue eyes, a still angry red scar on one cheek - he must have got it recently - and short, ash-blond hair that he wore in bristling spikes.
“Relative of yours, Harper?” Beka asked, and the little engineer, armed to the teeth like the rest of them, scowled at her in annoyance.
“Ha-ha, very funny, boss! I’d like you to know that we Harpers don’t breed for brawn. He might have the looks, but he’d hardly have the intelligence to go with it.”
The man gave him an amused look.
“I don’t know whether I’ve been just insulted or complimented,” he said with a harsh accent. English probably wasn’t his first language, either.
“With Harper, it’s probably the same,” Beka replied. “Don’t take it personally, he’s like that with all people.”
Mr. Tall-Blond-and-Military grinned at Harper. “Scientist?” he asked.
“Engineer,” Harper corrected. “Engineer and super genius, if you really have to know.”
The man’s grin grew in width. “Close enough. In the self-confidence department, too, it seems. You sound like our head scientist.”
“And you would be…?” Dylan asked.
“Sorry,” the man apologized. “I’m Major Ralph Vogel, currently the leader of military operations here. Welcome to Atlantis.”
“You’re the military leader of this outpost, and yet you’re wasting your time with social niceties?” Tyr asked incredulously.
Major Vogel shrugged… and winced, as if that small gesture, too, had caused him considerable pain.
“Well, someone has to do,” he said. “All able-bodied personnel are hunting for the Wraith intruders. And since I’m not exactly matching that category right now, I was expendable.”
“You’ve been injured?” Beka asked, for the man’s somewhat careful movements were a deadly give-away.
“I had a brief encounter with a hungry Wraith,” Vogel replied. “Judgement is still off on how many years I might have lost as a result, but as I said, it was brief. I was lucky. And feeding wounds heal fast.”
“To preserve the food source, I assume,” Harper said bitterly. It all sounded depressingly familiar. Like Magog infecting live people with their brood, so that the little monsters could sit right at the food source.
Vogel nodded. “Still, the fact does have its advantages… assumed one survives the attack in the first place. So, since I can’t do much good in a fight yet but am steady on my feet to walk, I’ve been sent to guide you through the city, or else you’d never find the Wraith in the first place.”
“How many targets are we talking about?” Sword of Midnight asked.
Vogel stared at the green bug in disbelief for a moment. Despite everything he’d already seen in the Pegasus galaxy, walking, talking, man-sized insects were just too weird to take in a stride. Not to mention the furry, nightmarish creature with the long, vicious, curved claws that was standing next to them.
“Between thirty and forty Darts have crashed in the first wave,” he then answered. “We assume that most of the pilots have managed to beam into the city, right before they hit. We don’t know how many other troops have been deployed during the siege. Quite a few, I fear.”
“And how do you intend to find them, with your internal sensors still down?” Dylan asked.
“Well, we have this.” As Vogel pulled a handheld scanner from his vest, they could glimpse the thick bandage under his shirt. Fast healing or not, the ‘feeding wound’ must have been an ugly one. “It can't differentiate between Wraith and human lifesigns, but since I know which areas our own search parties have been designated to, the blips that show up out of bounds will be the likely targets.”
“Oooh!” Harper practically crowed at the little gizmo. “Let me see that!”
Vogel handed it over to him readily enough. “Won’t do you any good. To be able to operate it, you’d need a very rare and specific gene that…” He trailed off, his mouth hanging literally open, as the scanner kept buzzing happily in Harper’s hand. “… which you seem to have in spades,” he finished lamely.
Harper blinked. “I do?” He stared down at the scanner in delight.
“Apparently,” Vogel had already recovered from his surprise. “Well, as you can see, there are those areas,” he pointed at the small screen of the little tool, “where we have no search parties yet. That’s here your help would be most welcome.”
“All right,” Dylan nodded. “We’ll make two teams. Rev and the green bugs will come with me. Tyr, you’ll lead the other team. Take Beka, Harper and Starlight… and your wife, since she’s insisted to come with us, which I still can’t understand.”
Vogel glanced at the tall, athletic blonde woman who had the same forearm spikes as the dark-skinned warrior with the dreadlocks and secretly agreed with Captain Hunt.
“You’ve emptied your ship, Captain?” he asked.
Dylan shrugged. “Medical personnel is still aboard, since they have a patient,” he said. “And Rommie is more than capable of handling day-to-day business.”
“Rommie?” Vogel echoed, clearly not understanding.
“Andromeda’s artificial intelligence,” Dylan explained. “The ships of the High Guard were sentient, Major.”
Vogel stared at him in apparent suspicion, clearly not sure whether they were pulling his leg or not. In the end, however, he decided to postpone the question for a later time, when he could deal with it properly and undisturbed.
“All right,” he said. “Since Mr. Harper seems to have the ATA gene, he’ll have no problems to operate the city’s systems. Let’s go to the nearest transporter chamber. This is a very big city as you’ll see; site-to-site transportation is the easiest way to get to your destination.”
Harper’s eyes lit up like miniature fireworks. He even ignored the gut-wrenching pain in his belly that, once again, indicated the increasing activity of his… passengers.
“A teleporter?” he repeated. “Aw, man, this is so cool… well, what are you waiting for? Show the way already, would ya?”
Major Vogel laughed at his enthusiasm and did just that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They got to the transporter - which made Harper’s fingers itch to take it apart and see what made it tick - and after they had split up to two groups, Major Vogel guided each group to their destination. By the time he set out Dylan’s group at its assigned area, he was deadly pale and sweating profusely. Rev Bem’s nostrils twitched.
“Major, you might want to get back to your medical deck,” he said in that scratchy voice of his. “I smell blood; perhaps your wound has opened again?”
Vogel glanced down himself. There was indeed a large red blotch on his shirt, half-covered by his open vest.
“Scheisse,” he said weakly. “You’re right. Captain, I hate to leave you alone in unknown territory, but…”
“Just go,” Dylan waved impatiently. “You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead.”
Vogel nodded and stepped back into the transporter chamber. When the doors opened again, he was gone.
“All right,” Dylan said. ”Let’s split the area between us. Midnight, you and your fellow bugs take the corridor in the left. Don’t forget to check every single room meticulously. Those… things can hide everywhere. Rev, you’re with me. We’ll go along the right corridor.”
“Is it wise to spread ourselves so thinly?” the Than asked doubtfully. Dylan shrugged.
“Perhaps not - but it’s necessary,” he said. “Let’s go!”
The Emerald warriors reluctantly obeyed and were soon gone from sight. Dylan and Rev Bem began the search in their own chosen area… which seemed abandoned. From afar, they could hear gunfire, caused by the projectile weapons the Earth people seemed to prefer (or perhaps they didn’t have anything else), but in there, everything was eerily quiet. Much too quiet for Dylan’s comfort who could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. He looked at Rev Bem and saw the bat-like ears of the Magog twitch nervously.
“They’re in here, somewhere,” he whispered.
Rev Bem nodded. “I can hear movement all around us… it’s very quiet, but it’s definitely there.”
“How many?” Dylan asked.
“I don’t know,” the Magog said. “Several of them.”
“Well, the only way out of here is forward,” Dylan said philosophically. Then, as he saw something white blink up in the corridor, he yelled at Rev to duck and fired his force lance where the movement had been… the only result being the charring of the bulkhead further down the corridor. Rev Bem shook his head.
“An illusion,” he said. “We’ve been warned that they can make us see things that don’t even exist.”
“At least we have proof now that they’re indeed here,” Dylan shrugged.
“There was little doubt about that, even…” Rev Bem’s sentence was cut short as he was knocked out and hurled against the opposite wall.
A Wraith dropped out of nowhere (or so it seemed), snarling and roaring. With a sweeping movement of its arm, it knocked Dylan’s force lance aside. Momentarily imbalanced, Dylan dew his gauss pistol and fired at it ten times in rapid succession At first, the Wraith seemed unfazed, but after the eighth hit, it went down, and after the tenth, it died unceremoniously. Some wounds were just too much, even for its self-healing abilities.
Dylan smiled in grim satisfaction and turned around to see how Rev Bem was doing - which proved to be a fatal mistake. He understood that when a vicious blow knocked him off his feet. He landed on his back, gauss pistol flying across the corridor, and a Wraith - wearing some kind of protective mask that looked like metal mesh - leaning over him. It roared and tore his tunic open, slamming a hand into his chest.
Within seconds, Dylan passed out from the pain. He didn’t see Rev Bem climbing to his feet, looking around in confusion and trying to get his bearings. The Magog needed a moment to realize what was happening - having hit his head very hard, even for someone of his endurance - but then he acted quickly. With two great leaps, he was upon the Wraith, tore it away from Dylan’s limp body and threw it against the bulkhead with a brutal force nobody would have expected from his relatively short body. But Magog had been created to be merciless killing machines, and they were hard to kill, unless taken by surprise.
And they were sneaky and unpredictable, too, as this particular Wraith was just about to find out. Instead of trying to keep it at safe distance, Rev Bem leaped at it again, knocked it down, and jumping at his chest, he tore out its unprotected throat with his claws. Then he spat on the twitching body.
“I wouldn’t even want to eat you,” he told it in disgust.
“Unfortunately for you, we are not so choosy when it comes to food,” someone said, and he realized he’d been careless in his urge to save Dylan.
He whirled around, screamed and spat venom into the face of the third Wraith - this one didn’t wear a mask. The Wraith snarled and hissed in pain but didn’t back off. Instead, it grabbed Rev Bem by the throat and slammed its feeding hand into his furry chest.
“Your strength will be mine,” it hissed. Paralysed, Rev Bem could do nothing but endure the pain, at which he, as a Magog, was a lot better than mere humans. He could feel his strength trickle away from his body, little by little, and he couldn’t prevent it from happening.
He prepared to close his eyes and accept the will of the Divine, when his attacker suddenly went into convulsions and let go of him. Rev was still paralysed, but he had to humbly admit with his last conscious thought that seeing the creature die in obvious pain filled him with a satisfaction entirely unbecoming of a proper Wayist monk.
When a few minutes later the Emerald Than, alerted by the gun fire, came in running, all they found were three dead Wraith, one unconscious human and a paralysed Magog.
“Search the rooms for more Wraith,” Sword of Midnight ordered his fellow bugs. “I’ll see if I can do anything to help them.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A collective sigh of relief greeted Annalisa Lindstrom when she ran down from the jumper bay to the Control room, obviously uninjured and eager to do more.
“That was excellent work, Lieutenant,” Theresa Weir smiled at her tiredly. “We all owe you a drink. But how did you end up with the Andromeda?”
“I’ll tell you everything on the debriefing, ma’am,” Lisa replied. “I’ve got some unexpected good news, too. Right now, I want to help with the Wraith hunt, though. Can you assign me to a position?”
Theresa nodded. “Major Vogel is injured, so his team is without a CO right now. Join them and lead them; you were with them long enough. Where are they supposed to be, Sergeant?”
Lenoir highlighted the area on the virtual city map. “Near Generator Station Two.”
“Thanks, Chuck,” Lisa activated her radio. “Team Four, this is Lieutenant Lindstrom. Have you reached your destination already?”
“Negative,” the voice of Lt. Crown answered.
“Good,” Lisa said. “Wait for me at the nearest transporter. I’m taking over for the major.”
“Just like in old times,” Allison Crown laughed. “Welcome back, and hurry up!”
“On my way,” Lisa replied and ran.
When she arrived, she found Crown and three Bundeswehr soldiers there, as well as Dr. Moosekian, the scruffy little Armenian engineer, who’d stayed in Atlantis to go Dr. Zelenka to hand.
“Where are the others?” Lisa asked with a frown. There should have been twice as many people; Major Vogel’s wasn’t a scout team.
“We’ve become separated somehow,” Lt. Crown told her. “I’m sure they’ll be all right. Shall we check on the generator?”
“That would be advisable,” Dr. Moosekian said. “Our power supplies had been severely cut as it is. Losing another generator would be… inconvenient.”
As if confirming his words, the power suddenly went out. Somewhere ahead of them shots were being fired in the darkened corridor.
“That’s it,” Lisa said. “We’re going in. Follow the shots, but be careful!”
They did that, and ended up at Generator Station two, where they found a dead man, with a German flag patch on his uniform sleeve.
“Damn it,” Crown swore softly. “That was Wigald, the poor sod. He was a good man.”
“And we have even bigger problem,” Dr. Moosekian added darkly, directing their attention to the naquadah generator that was sparking, having been ripped open and broken. “That’s third one in a single day. At this rate, we’ll soon move to mainland and learn how to make fire by hitting two stones together.”
“Damn it,” Lisa echoed. Then she sighed and switched on her radio. “Control, this is Lindstrom. The Wraith just took out another one of our generators.”
“Which one?” Lorne’s voice asked.
“Number two,” Lisa said. “Sir, if this is a tendency…”
“I understand,” Lorne interrupted. “Cadman, what’s the nearest generator station?”
“Number three,” Laura Cadman’s voice replied. “But Teyla’s group should be closer.”
“Perhaps,” Sergeant Lenoir intervened,” but we’ve lost contact with her group. And with Lieutenant Ford’s.”
“Never mind,” Lorne said. “We’ll go. Should we meet any of them, we’ll redirect them to other areas. Lorne out.”
“And we,” Lisa said to her team grimly, “we’re going on a little Wraith hunt, people.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr’s team had been successful in clearing there area from half a dozen Wraith - blasting the creatures’ heads to pieces with the oversized Gauss rifles Tyr preferred seemed to work wonders against Wraith regenerating abilities - and moved on inwards. On their way to the central tower, they ran into a few Athosians who got separated from their team leader (someone named Teyla) and didn’t have radios on them. But at least they knew Atlantis well enough and were apparently trained warriors… the best ones Tyr had seen so far in the Pegasus galaxy. He filed away a mental note for further consideration before asking them to show him the way, which they did readily enough.
After another shooting match with a group of Wraith guards, in which one of the Athosians - who, if Tyr had understood correctly, were not from Earth but from another local planet - was hit by a Wraith stunner, Tyr’s team finally reached the central tower. Tyr sent Beka and Freya ahead and was just about to do the same with Harper, when two groups, containing at least five or six Wraith each, burst forth from two different side corridors, trapping him, the little kludge and the Emerald Than between them. At such close proximity, weapons were of little use, although Glittering Starlight made a feeble attempt to fire at them - without any noteworthy results. This was not a promising situation, to put it mildly.
“Harper!” Beka screamed, big sister instincts on autopilot, and she would have jumped off the balcony, right into the middle of the nightmarish creatures, had Freya not stopped her with an iron grip.
“You cannot help him,” the Nietzschean woman said. “They would kill you and still kill him.”
“Let me go!” Beka hissed, struggling futilely. “Harper’s my crewman, my responsibility - he’s family!”
“Getting yourself killed won’t help him,” Freya replied clearly. “He is dead already. I can see the larvae moving under his skin.”
Her deceivingly slender arms didn’t loosen around Beka’s writhing body; her forearm spikes were fully erect. There was nothing human in her at the moment; she morphed into a predator with the single goal of survival on her mind. There was no breaking her grip, but Beka kept struggling against her nonetheless.
“I hate you!” the captain of the Eureka Maru wailed.
Freya didn’t answer, just kept her immobilized, while they watched one of the Wraith approaching Harper. The little engineer had run out of both ammunition and adrenaline, too exhausted - and in too much pain from the reawakened larvae in him - to fight any more. When one of those clawed, white hands smacked down, Beka went limp in Freya’s arms. The Nietzschean woman kept her on her feet with superhuman strength, her sharp features mirroring a strange mix of pity, compassion and vague disgust.
The fighting stopped for a moment at Harper’s inhuman shriek of pain and terror when the Wraith’s hand slammed into him. There was barely any other noise, so that everyone could hear Teyla’s surprised murmur. “Strange. It doesn’t contact with his chest.”
“The larvae!” Tyr realized. “Their life force is stronger, more aggressive than Harper’s - they were what had attracted the Wraith!”
“But… but he is not getting older!” one of the Athosians exclaimed in shock. “How is that possible?”
“The larvae, that thing is drawing life energy from the larvae!” Tyr was already making his way to Harper, firing with both überdimensional guns directly into the face of any Wraith stupid enough to get in his way. The ferocity of his attack made the creatures back off in surprise, and the defenders of Atlantis followed on his trail. Freya finally let go of Beka, who now could jump down to the deck; she landed on her feet like a Makra, shooting at everything that had long white hair.
All of a sudden, a long, terrible wail pierced the renewed battle noise. The Wraith feeding on Harper suddenly went into convulsions, foaming from the mouth, shuddered and swayed. Then it fell back on the deck with a loud thud - and was very obviously dead. The other Wraith froze in shock (such a thing couldn’t have happened on a regular basis, given their reaction) and that gave Stackhouse’s team enough time to emerge from one of the side corridors with their improvised flamethrowers (courtesy of Dr. Kavanagh) and give them the rest.
Harper stared down at the ugly, still bleeding wound on his exposed stomach; then his eyes turned upward, and he lost consciousness.
“Pick him up and get him to Dr. B,” Stackhouse barked. “Whatever it was that killed that Wraith, the doc would want it.”
A big, burly Marine scooped up the small body in his arms and vanished back in the heart of the city. Stackhouse touched his radio.
“Our sector seems cleaned out, sir,” he reported to Major Lorne. “Where do you need us next?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was two hours later that the command staff of Atlantis - at least those who survived and had already returned - gathered in the Control room. From the Andromeda crew, Tyr and Beka had been invited to join the impromptu debriefing, as the ones who were unhurt. Freya had gone to the infirmary to keep an eye on Harper. The Stargate was open, as personnel and equipment were still being transported back from the Alpha site. An exhausted Dr. Zelenka was sitting at the biometric sensors, searching for missing people. Dr. Moosekian, his unshaven face smeared with blood, tried to help him as best as he could.
“Preliminary count is forty casualties, maybe more,” Zelenka reported. “I’m still trying to line up life signs readings with actual people.”
“Are there any more Wraith lifesigns?” Major Vogel, who’d been wheeled in in a wheelchair, asked.
Zelenka shook his head. “Ne. Seems we’ve got them all. The last one was trapped in one of the deeper parts of the city. He died trying to damage city with one of their grenades.”
“In which attempt three of our men were injured,” Theresa Weir added with a grim face.
McKay shrugged. “On the bright side, there was no flooding,” he said. “And our people will recover. Have we been able to locate Lieutenant Ford yet?”
“I’m sorry, no,” Zelenka replied. “We’ve searched everywhere in the city. It’s possible he may have been beamed up into one of the Wraith darts.”
“No,” Lisa retorted promptly. “I refuse to accept that possibility.”
“Lieutenant, I’m sorry,” Zelenka said gently, “but we must consider it. We’ve searched everywhere inside city…”
“What about outside the city?” Lisa interrupted.
Zelenka stared at her in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Can’t you expand the sensors?” Lisa clarified. “Maybe he’s in the water somewhere.”
“Even if that was the case, there’s no chance that...” Zelenka began, but Lisa, desperate to find Aiden, interrupted him again.
“Look, doc I’m not asking you to swim out there. I’m only asking you to press a few damned buttons on that console. Surely that couldn’t be that hard.”
Seeing her despair, Zelenka pushed said buttons without further protest, just to put her mind at ease. Dr. Moosekian felt less gracious, though.
“Even if you’re right, I don’t see how...” he growled; then he trailed off, staring at the screen open-mouthed, as it immediately showed one human life sign in the ocean. “Oh my God. That’s him. It has to be.”
Tyr looked at Beka. “Could we use the grapplers of the Maru to pull him out of the water?”
Beka shook her head. “Nah, he’s too small for that. Those grapplers were designed to move cargo, not to reclaim wounded.”
“There’s no need,” Lisa said. “I’ll go out with a jumper - but I’ll need someone to help me with the actual pulling.”
“I’ll do,” Toussaint, who’d already recovered from the stunner blast and was currently the only combat-ready member of Aiden’s team, offered. “We’ll need a medical team in the jumper bay upon our return, though.”
“Dr. Beckett is still operating on Mr. Harper,” Theresa said, “and Dr. Biro is assisting him. But I’ll send Dr. Nguyen; he’s got a great deal of field experience.”
“I will go with you,” Tyr said to Lisa. “Pulling an unconscious man out of the ocean can be a complicated task.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lisa had no objections, and the three of them boarded Jumper Two. Tyr was impressed by the little vessel and the ingenuity of the launching process, even though Lisa didn’t tell him that Atlantis was also a starship. She felt that it wasn’t her right to give away such crucial information. Besides, she was too worried about Aiden to care for anything - or anyone - else at the moment.
When they reached the coordinates given by Dr. Zelenka, she landed the jumper on the water - the floating mode had recently been discovered by accident - and they began to search for lifesigns.
“He’s here,” Toussaint, proud owner of an artificial ATA gene, said after a few moments, “but something is not right. There’s something else, aside from him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lisa replied. “We’ll pull him out with whatever else there might be and hope for the best. He’s been floating out there for quite a while - he might be seriously hypothermic. Do you have the rope?”
Toussaint nodded and brought forth the thick coil, fastening one end near the opened rear hatch.
“I wish we had a chopper here,” he commented. “It would make pulling him in much easier.”
“Just fasten the rope around him,” Tyr growled, “and I will pull in both of you.”
Toussaint took a glance at the Nietzschean’s bulging biceps and nodded, apparently reassured. He then stripped down to his briefs - there was no reason to make his uniform wet - put on the goggles and sprang into the water. Being an experienced scuba diver, it wasn’t a problem for him to dive without an oxygen tank, even though he knew his lungs would protest afterwards.
It took him no time to localize his commanding officer. Aiden Ford was floating face down in the icy water… together with the Wraith that had attacked him. The creature seemed dead, but its hand was still plunged into Aiden’s chest. Toussaint couldn’t tell whether Aiden was still alive - under the current circumstances he should have been dead - but he didn’t waste any more time with guessing. His task was to rescue his CO - the doctors will see whether they could do something for the Lieutenant or not.
After fastening the rope around Aiden’s chest, he hurriedly resurfaced. His lungs were burning, but he didn’t care. He swam back to the jumper, held onto the open hatch with one hand and tore the goggles from his face with the other one.
“You can pull them in now,” he told the Nietzschean, still gaping for air. Shit, but he’d gotten woefully unused to this sort of exercise. A fact that he perhaps ought to change in the near future.
Tyr raised an eyebrow. “Them?” he echoed.
“He has a Wraith attached to his chest.” Toussaint clambered aboard and selected the biggest gun available. “I think it’s dead, but… just in case…”
The Nietzschean nodded his approval and pulled in the rope with the double burden seemingly without effort. When they hauled the two motionless bodies aboard, they could see that the back of the Wraith’s head was missing, as well as a considerable part of his back.
“It looks dead enough to me,” Tyr commented laconically. “Should we get it off him?”
Toussaint shook his head. “We better leave it to the doc, or else we might cause more harm than good.” He knocked on the door separating the cockpit from the rear department. “Lieutenant, we’ve got him… but it looks really bad.”
To her credit, Lisa didn’t waste any time to ask questions. Closing the rear hatch, she started the engines to return to Atlantis as fast as possible.
Chapter 17 - Aftermath
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page
Author's notes:
Some elements might seem familiar from the three-parter “The Siege”. However, let me assure you that they are, in fact, very different from the original.
Beta read by erinnyes, thanks.
CHAPTER 16 - LIBERATION
Carson and Rodney, who’d watched the screen anxiously, slumped into two empty chairs, weakened with relief.
“Oh, thank God!” they said in unison.
Behind them, Sergeant Lenoir was already organizing the return of everyone who was willing to help hunting down and finishing off the Wraith still in the city. The Stargate was dialled up and a wormhole to the Alpha site was established. A moment later the radio crackled again.
“Atlantis, what is your situation?” the leader of the cavalry asked.
Theresa looked at Lorne. “You speak to him, Major - two soldiers understand each other better during battle.”
Lorne nodded. “Understood, ma’am.” Then he raised his voice a little. “Captain Hunt, this is Major Lorne. We’ve suffered some damage and lost quite a few people, but we’ll live. The main problem is that there still are a lot of Darts out there, and we can’t power up the defensive shields. I don’t think this battle is over yet.”
“He is right,” someone aboard the unknown ship said. “The Dart fleet is regrouping.”
“Take your position and stand by for defensive fire,” the captain ordered.
“We are not the target,” the other voice, most likely that of the ship’s weapons officer, answered. “The formation is headed towards Atlantis.”
“Can we intercept?” the captain asked.
“The slipfighters can, but we might not be fast enough,” a female voice, presumably that of the ship’s pilot, replied.
“Well, try,” the captain said. “How many targets?”
“Dozens,” the weapons officer’s voice again. “Close to one hundred, in fact.”
“Fire at will,” the captain said. “Slipfighters, move in to intercept as many of them as possible. Rommie, how many combat drones do we have left?”
“Perhaps two dozen or so,” a slightly artificial-sounding female voice answered.
“Redirect them to protect the city,” the captain ordered. “Beka, best speed!”
The people in Atlantis’ Control room watched the screen with bated breath. The dots representing the numerous Wraith Darts approached the city with alarming speed. The four slipfighters of the Andromeda, however, were even faster, reaching the city way before the darts, and taking up defensive positions, while Andromeda herself was firing at them from behind and the combat drones were attacking from the sides. Nonetheless, the Darts still vastly outnumbered them, and it seemed that sooner or later, a few of them would get through.
“This won’t work,” Zelenka said gloomily. “Their approach is ballistic, and there aren’t enough ships to intercept them.”
“What do you mean 'ballistic'?” Theresa asked.
“Their impact velocities will be in excess of ten thousand kilometres an hour,” Zelenka explained. “No part of the city can withstand that.”
“I see,” Theresa said. She was beyond fear by now; the only feeling she still had was a strange serenity. “Sergeant, hold on with the return of our people from the Alpha site for… how much time do we have?”
“Forty-five seconds,” Zelenka replied.
“Crap,” McKay sighed. “We’re so dead.”
“Not necessarily,” a shockingly familiar voice answered through the radio. “I still have my… package here and am on my way to deploy it in the middle of the Wraith swarm. I’ll detonate it with a well-aimed shot in twenty seconds… or so I hope.”
Zelenka tilted his head in surprise. “Lieutenant Lindstrom? But we’ve seen explosion… we thought…”
“Later, doc,” Lisa interrupted. “Package deployed. Slipfighters, get the hell out of there at my mark. This is gonna be a big explosion in five… four… three… two… MARK!”
The slipfighters wheeled out of the way with incredible speed and skills. Through the windows of the Control room, the Atlantis people could see the whole sky above the Lantean ocean turn blinding white. The screen displayed the devastating effects of the explosion, caused by the makeshift naquadah bomb… then all screens went temporarily dark, as the detonation EMP hit the city’s systems. Fortunately, the Earth-issue laptops were still powered down, or they’d have burned out beyond repair.
As the flash subsided, Carson opened his laptop to check the radiation levels.
“Slightly above the usual tolerance limits but nothin’ we couldnae cure easily,” he reported in relief.
“That’s good to hear,” Theresa said with a tired smile. “Radek, what about the Darts?”
“Scanners need recovery time,” Zelenka shrugged, “but we’re still here, so it must have been successful maneuver, ne?”
“But if Lieutenant Lindstrom hasn’t blown up the last hive ship, who’s done it?” Lorne asked.
“My guess would be newly arrived ship with long name,” Zelenka slid to the floor and leaned against the bulkhead. “Need sleep now.” And he felt promptly asleep, shoulders slumped forward, chin resting on his chest.
Rodney wanted to shake him awake but Theresa didn’t allow it.
“Give him a few minutes,” she said. “Let’s try to find out what’s happened to the Darts before you chase him back to work.”
Rodney opened his mouth to protest - after all, he wasn’t allowed to rest, either - but a second glance at Zelenka’s face, grey with exhaustion, made him change his mind. Radek was smaller and physically weaker than him; a couple of years older, too. He needed those few minutes, even if there was no hope for more.
“Right, right,” he said, too highly strung to rest right now anyway. “Let’s call that ship, should we?”
But before they could have done so, a static-filled message came through the loudspeakers.
“Atlantis… I repeat… This is Hunt. What’s your status?”
Zelenka opened one bleary eye and looked up to Theresa like a bird. “Explosions… must have disrupted… radio signals,” he whispered. Then that one eye fell shut again and he began to snore softly.
“Well, we’re still here,” Rodney answered to the captain of the Andromeda snappishly. “That’s our status.”
“Rodney,” Theresa warned. “We’re well enough, Captain Hunt, thanks for your assistance.”
“Glad to be of help,” Hunt replied. “We’re going to stay in geosynchronous orbit for the time being. Can we be of any further assistance?”
“As a mater of fact… yes, you can,” Theresa answered. “We still have an unknown number of Wraith in the city that need to be dealt with.”
“I’ll send down everyone who can help with that,” Hunt promised. “Is there any place where our fighters can land?”
“They can use the east pier as a landing zone,” Sergeant Lenoir said at Theresa’s questioning look.
“I’ve heard it,” Hunt said. “Any idea where inside the city those Wraith might be?”
Theresa looked at Lenoir again, who shook his head.
“Afraid not, sir,” he replied. “Most of our sensors are still down, but we do know that several dozen of them might have beamed out of their kamikaze fighters in the last moment. We’ll provide more data as soon as we can have them.”
“All right,” Hunt said. “The slipfighters have just landed. Their pilots are sentient insects, so don’t panic if you see human-sized bugs roaming the city. Try not to shoot them. The rest of us will board the Eureka Maru and follow. Hunt out.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Aiden Ford and his team had never learned about the lucky turn of events that had ended the siege of Atlantis with the - at least temporary - defeat of the Wraith and the loss of all three hive ships and their darts. They had taken up their defensive positions right after Sheppard’s suicide run, and were soon thereafter way too occupied to watch their surroundings, having to face off against two teams of Wraith and their guards who have beamed down in front of and behind the team simultaneously.
Not to mention so close that the Marines had barely enough room to aim their weapons at the Wraith.
“Defence!” Aiden ordered through clenched teeth. He knew it was hopeless, that they didn’t stand a rat’s chance, but he also knew they wouldn’t give their lives cheaply. The more of these monsters they could take out, the less threat it meant to the rest of Atlantis.
The Marines opened fire. They were a well-trained unit, perhaps the best in the city, but Wraith were notoriously hard to kill… and way too close to begin with. Some of them went down for good, but the rest of them rushed in and went hand-to-hand with the Marines. Bosco Teague was the first who was shot - not with a stunner but with some sort of energy weapon that caused an ugly, bleeding wound on his midriff. McKinney and Rickman got tossed around and thrown to the ground, their limbs in a grotesquely twisted position that made them look like broken dolls. Toussaint fired at the Wraith like a madman, dodging their attacks with surprising agility (even for him), until one of them shot him in the back.
That left Aiden and Yamato - a short, deceivingly slender soldier of Japanese origins, who could throw around beefy Marines twice his size, under normal circumstances. He went against the Wraith in the same fearless manner. But these monsters were larger and much stronger than any human being - or a Jaffa, for that matter. The strength and the martial arts skills that had helped Yamato to stand up to Teal’c back at the SGC proved insufficient against the Wraith.
The terrible, dry snap as his neck was broken distracted Aiden for one fateful second - just long enough for one of the Wraith guards to grab him by the throat and push him up against the balcony.
That was it, and he knew it. There was no-one to help him now. His men were scattered on the metal floor all around him, dead or dying. Badly wounded, 'Boss' Teague, next to him, had still the strength - barely - to take the pin out of a grenade, and Aiden mentally thanked him for the upcoming quick and merciful death.
The Wraith, still holding Aiden by the throat, raised its other hand and slammed it into Aiden’s chest. The pain was more intense than anything Aiden had ever felt before - as if he’d been torn apart alive, piece by piece. He thought of Colonel Sumner for a fleeting moment, thankful that Sheppard had been there to deal the man a merciful death… just as Teague would do for him in seconds. He couldn’t see Teague move anymore - the big man must have passed out… or died. But he could see the grenade rolling from his hand, right to the Wraith’s feet… where it exploded. The shockwave threw him - and the Wraith, whose back had been fully hit by the explosion - over the balcony, and together they plunged into the ocean below.
Fortunately for Aiden, he was already unconscious when they hit the ice cold water.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Eureka Maru landed on the east pier of Atlantis, where they were welcomed by a tall, coldly handsome man wearing some sort of military uniform. The man had dark blue eyes, a still angry red scar on one cheek - he must have got it recently - and short, ash-blond hair that he wore in bristling spikes.
“Relative of yours, Harper?” Beka asked, and the little engineer, armed to the teeth like the rest of them, scowled at her in annoyance.
“Ha-ha, very funny, boss! I’d like you to know that we Harpers don’t breed for brawn. He might have the looks, but he’d hardly have the intelligence to go with it.”
The man gave him an amused look.
“I don’t know whether I’ve been just insulted or complimented,” he said with a harsh accent. English probably wasn’t his first language, either.
“With Harper, it’s probably the same,” Beka replied. “Don’t take it personally, he’s like that with all people.”
Mr. Tall-Blond-and-Military grinned at Harper. “Scientist?” he asked.
“Engineer,” Harper corrected. “Engineer and super genius, if you really have to know.”
The man’s grin grew in width. “Close enough. In the self-confidence department, too, it seems. You sound like our head scientist.”
“And you would be…?” Dylan asked.
“Sorry,” the man apologized. “I’m Major Ralph Vogel, currently the leader of military operations here. Welcome to Atlantis.”
“You’re the military leader of this outpost, and yet you’re wasting your time with social niceties?” Tyr asked incredulously.
Major Vogel shrugged… and winced, as if that small gesture, too, had caused him considerable pain.
“Well, someone has to do,” he said. “All able-bodied personnel are hunting for the Wraith intruders. And since I’m not exactly matching that category right now, I was expendable.”
“You’ve been injured?” Beka asked, for the man’s somewhat careful movements were a deadly give-away.
“I had a brief encounter with a hungry Wraith,” Vogel replied. “Judgement is still off on how many years I might have lost as a result, but as I said, it was brief. I was lucky. And feeding wounds heal fast.”
“To preserve the food source, I assume,” Harper said bitterly. It all sounded depressingly familiar. Like Magog infecting live people with their brood, so that the little monsters could sit right at the food source.
Vogel nodded. “Still, the fact does have its advantages… assumed one survives the attack in the first place. So, since I can’t do much good in a fight yet but am steady on my feet to walk, I’ve been sent to guide you through the city, or else you’d never find the Wraith in the first place.”
“How many targets are we talking about?” Sword of Midnight asked.
Vogel stared at the green bug in disbelief for a moment. Despite everything he’d already seen in the Pegasus galaxy, walking, talking, man-sized insects were just too weird to take in a stride. Not to mention the furry, nightmarish creature with the long, vicious, curved claws that was standing next to them.
“Between thirty and forty Darts have crashed in the first wave,” he then answered. “We assume that most of the pilots have managed to beam into the city, right before they hit. We don’t know how many other troops have been deployed during the siege. Quite a few, I fear.”
“And how do you intend to find them, with your internal sensors still down?” Dylan asked.
“Well, we have this.” As Vogel pulled a handheld scanner from his vest, they could glimpse the thick bandage under his shirt. Fast healing or not, the ‘feeding wound’ must have been an ugly one. “It can't differentiate between Wraith and human lifesigns, but since I know which areas our own search parties have been designated to, the blips that show up out of bounds will be the likely targets.”
“Oooh!” Harper practically crowed at the little gizmo. “Let me see that!”
Vogel handed it over to him readily enough. “Won’t do you any good. To be able to operate it, you’d need a very rare and specific gene that…” He trailed off, his mouth hanging literally open, as the scanner kept buzzing happily in Harper’s hand. “… which you seem to have in spades,” he finished lamely.
Harper blinked. “I do?” He stared down at the scanner in delight.
“Apparently,” Vogel had already recovered from his surprise. “Well, as you can see, there are those areas,” he pointed at the small screen of the little tool, “where we have no search parties yet. That’s here your help would be most welcome.”
“All right,” Dylan nodded. “We’ll make two teams. Rev and the green bugs will come with me. Tyr, you’ll lead the other team. Take Beka, Harper and Starlight… and your wife, since she’s insisted to come with us, which I still can’t understand.”
Vogel glanced at the tall, athletic blonde woman who had the same forearm spikes as the dark-skinned warrior with the dreadlocks and secretly agreed with Captain Hunt.
“You’ve emptied your ship, Captain?” he asked.
Dylan shrugged. “Medical personnel is still aboard, since they have a patient,” he said. “And Rommie is more than capable of handling day-to-day business.”
“Rommie?” Vogel echoed, clearly not understanding.
“Andromeda’s artificial intelligence,” Dylan explained. “The ships of the High Guard were sentient, Major.”
Vogel stared at him in apparent suspicion, clearly not sure whether they were pulling his leg or not. In the end, however, he decided to postpone the question for a later time, when he could deal with it properly and undisturbed.
“All right,” he said. “Since Mr. Harper seems to have the ATA gene, he’ll have no problems to operate the city’s systems. Let’s go to the nearest transporter chamber. This is a very big city as you’ll see; site-to-site transportation is the easiest way to get to your destination.”
Harper’s eyes lit up like miniature fireworks. He even ignored the gut-wrenching pain in his belly that, once again, indicated the increasing activity of his… passengers.
“A teleporter?” he repeated. “Aw, man, this is so cool… well, what are you waiting for? Show the way already, would ya?”
Major Vogel laughed at his enthusiasm and did just that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They got to the transporter - which made Harper’s fingers itch to take it apart and see what made it tick - and after they had split up to two groups, Major Vogel guided each group to their destination. By the time he set out Dylan’s group at its assigned area, he was deadly pale and sweating profusely. Rev Bem’s nostrils twitched.
“Major, you might want to get back to your medical deck,” he said in that scratchy voice of his. “I smell blood; perhaps your wound has opened again?”
Vogel glanced down himself. There was indeed a large red blotch on his shirt, half-covered by his open vest.
“Scheisse,” he said weakly. “You’re right. Captain, I hate to leave you alone in unknown territory, but…”
“Just go,” Dylan waved impatiently. “You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead.”
Vogel nodded and stepped back into the transporter chamber. When the doors opened again, he was gone.
“All right,” Dylan said. ”Let’s split the area between us. Midnight, you and your fellow bugs take the corridor in the left. Don’t forget to check every single room meticulously. Those… things can hide everywhere. Rev, you’re with me. We’ll go along the right corridor.”
“Is it wise to spread ourselves so thinly?” the Than asked doubtfully. Dylan shrugged.
“Perhaps not - but it’s necessary,” he said. “Let’s go!”
The Emerald warriors reluctantly obeyed and were soon gone from sight. Dylan and Rev Bem began the search in their own chosen area… which seemed abandoned. From afar, they could hear gunfire, caused by the projectile weapons the Earth people seemed to prefer (or perhaps they didn’t have anything else), but in there, everything was eerily quiet. Much too quiet for Dylan’s comfort who could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. He looked at Rev Bem and saw the bat-like ears of the Magog twitch nervously.
“They’re in here, somewhere,” he whispered.
Rev Bem nodded. “I can hear movement all around us… it’s very quiet, but it’s definitely there.”
“How many?” Dylan asked.
“I don’t know,” the Magog said. “Several of them.”
“Well, the only way out of here is forward,” Dylan said philosophically. Then, as he saw something white blink up in the corridor, he yelled at Rev to duck and fired his force lance where the movement had been… the only result being the charring of the bulkhead further down the corridor. Rev Bem shook his head.
“An illusion,” he said. “We’ve been warned that they can make us see things that don’t even exist.”
“At least we have proof now that they’re indeed here,” Dylan shrugged.
“There was little doubt about that, even…” Rev Bem’s sentence was cut short as he was knocked out and hurled against the opposite wall.
A Wraith dropped out of nowhere (or so it seemed), snarling and roaring. With a sweeping movement of its arm, it knocked Dylan’s force lance aside. Momentarily imbalanced, Dylan dew his gauss pistol and fired at it ten times in rapid succession At first, the Wraith seemed unfazed, but after the eighth hit, it went down, and after the tenth, it died unceremoniously. Some wounds were just too much, even for its self-healing abilities.
Dylan smiled in grim satisfaction and turned around to see how Rev Bem was doing - which proved to be a fatal mistake. He understood that when a vicious blow knocked him off his feet. He landed on his back, gauss pistol flying across the corridor, and a Wraith - wearing some kind of protective mask that looked like metal mesh - leaning over him. It roared and tore his tunic open, slamming a hand into his chest.
Within seconds, Dylan passed out from the pain. He didn’t see Rev Bem climbing to his feet, looking around in confusion and trying to get his bearings. The Magog needed a moment to realize what was happening - having hit his head very hard, even for someone of his endurance - but then he acted quickly. With two great leaps, he was upon the Wraith, tore it away from Dylan’s limp body and threw it against the bulkhead with a brutal force nobody would have expected from his relatively short body. But Magog had been created to be merciless killing machines, and they were hard to kill, unless taken by surprise.
And they were sneaky and unpredictable, too, as this particular Wraith was just about to find out. Instead of trying to keep it at safe distance, Rev Bem leaped at it again, knocked it down, and jumping at his chest, he tore out its unprotected throat with his claws. Then he spat on the twitching body.
“I wouldn’t even want to eat you,” he told it in disgust.
“Unfortunately for you, we are not so choosy when it comes to food,” someone said, and he realized he’d been careless in his urge to save Dylan.
He whirled around, screamed and spat venom into the face of the third Wraith - this one didn’t wear a mask. The Wraith snarled and hissed in pain but didn’t back off. Instead, it grabbed Rev Bem by the throat and slammed its feeding hand into his furry chest.
“Your strength will be mine,” it hissed. Paralysed, Rev Bem could do nothing but endure the pain, at which he, as a Magog, was a lot better than mere humans. He could feel his strength trickle away from his body, little by little, and he couldn’t prevent it from happening.
He prepared to close his eyes and accept the will of the Divine, when his attacker suddenly went into convulsions and let go of him. Rev was still paralysed, but he had to humbly admit with his last conscious thought that seeing the creature die in obvious pain filled him with a satisfaction entirely unbecoming of a proper Wayist monk.
When a few minutes later the Emerald Than, alerted by the gun fire, came in running, all they found were three dead Wraith, one unconscious human and a paralysed Magog.
“Search the rooms for more Wraith,” Sword of Midnight ordered his fellow bugs. “I’ll see if I can do anything to help them.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A collective sigh of relief greeted Annalisa Lindstrom when she ran down from the jumper bay to the Control room, obviously uninjured and eager to do more.
“That was excellent work, Lieutenant,” Theresa Weir smiled at her tiredly. “We all owe you a drink. But how did you end up with the Andromeda?”
“I’ll tell you everything on the debriefing, ma’am,” Lisa replied. “I’ve got some unexpected good news, too. Right now, I want to help with the Wraith hunt, though. Can you assign me to a position?”
Theresa nodded. “Major Vogel is injured, so his team is without a CO right now. Join them and lead them; you were with them long enough. Where are they supposed to be, Sergeant?”
Lenoir highlighted the area on the virtual city map. “Near Generator Station Two.”
“Thanks, Chuck,” Lisa activated her radio. “Team Four, this is Lieutenant Lindstrom. Have you reached your destination already?”
“Negative,” the voice of Lt. Crown answered.
“Good,” Lisa said. “Wait for me at the nearest transporter. I’m taking over for the major.”
“Just like in old times,” Allison Crown laughed. “Welcome back, and hurry up!”
“On my way,” Lisa replied and ran.
When she arrived, she found Crown and three Bundeswehr soldiers there, as well as Dr. Moosekian, the scruffy little Armenian engineer, who’d stayed in Atlantis to go Dr. Zelenka to hand.
“Where are the others?” Lisa asked with a frown. There should have been twice as many people; Major Vogel’s wasn’t a scout team.
“We’ve become separated somehow,” Lt. Crown told her. “I’m sure they’ll be all right. Shall we check on the generator?”
“That would be advisable,” Dr. Moosekian said. “Our power supplies had been severely cut as it is. Losing another generator would be… inconvenient.”
As if confirming his words, the power suddenly went out. Somewhere ahead of them shots were being fired in the darkened corridor.
“That’s it,” Lisa said. “We’re going in. Follow the shots, but be careful!”
They did that, and ended up at Generator Station two, where they found a dead man, with a German flag patch on his uniform sleeve.
“Damn it,” Crown swore softly. “That was Wigald, the poor sod. He was a good man.”
“And we have even bigger problem,” Dr. Moosekian added darkly, directing their attention to the naquadah generator that was sparking, having been ripped open and broken. “That’s third one in a single day. At this rate, we’ll soon move to mainland and learn how to make fire by hitting two stones together.”
“Damn it,” Lisa echoed. Then she sighed and switched on her radio. “Control, this is Lindstrom. The Wraith just took out another one of our generators.”
“Which one?” Lorne’s voice asked.
“Number two,” Lisa said. “Sir, if this is a tendency…”
“I understand,” Lorne interrupted. “Cadman, what’s the nearest generator station?”
“Number three,” Laura Cadman’s voice replied. “But Teyla’s group should be closer.”
“Perhaps,” Sergeant Lenoir intervened,” but we’ve lost contact with her group. And with Lieutenant Ford’s.”
“Never mind,” Lorne said. “We’ll go. Should we meet any of them, we’ll redirect them to other areas. Lorne out.”
“And we,” Lisa said to her team grimly, “we’re going on a little Wraith hunt, people.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr’s team had been successful in clearing there area from half a dozen Wraith - blasting the creatures’ heads to pieces with the oversized Gauss rifles Tyr preferred seemed to work wonders against Wraith regenerating abilities - and moved on inwards. On their way to the central tower, they ran into a few Athosians who got separated from their team leader (someone named Teyla) and didn’t have radios on them. But at least they knew Atlantis well enough and were apparently trained warriors… the best ones Tyr had seen so far in the Pegasus galaxy. He filed away a mental note for further consideration before asking them to show him the way, which they did readily enough.
After another shooting match with a group of Wraith guards, in which one of the Athosians - who, if Tyr had understood correctly, were not from Earth but from another local planet - was hit by a Wraith stunner, Tyr’s team finally reached the central tower. Tyr sent Beka and Freya ahead and was just about to do the same with Harper, when two groups, containing at least five or six Wraith each, burst forth from two different side corridors, trapping him, the little kludge and the Emerald Than between them. At such close proximity, weapons were of little use, although Glittering Starlight made a feeble attempt to fire at them - without any noteworthy results. This was not a promising situation, to put it mildly.
“Harper!” Beka screamed, big sister instincts on autopilot, and she would have jumped off the balcony, right into the middle of the nightmarish creatures, had Freya not stopped her with an iron grip.
“You cannot help him,” the Nietzschean woman said. “They would kill you and still kill him.”
“Let me go!” Beka hissed, struggling futilely. “Harper’s my crewman, my responsibility - he’s family!”
“Getting yourself killed won’t help him,” Freya replied clearly. “He is dead already. I can see the larvae moving under his skin.”
Her deceivingly slender arms didn’t loosen around Beka’s writhing body; her forearm spikes were fully erect. There was nothing human in her at the moment; she morphed into a predator with the single goal of survival on her mind. There was no breaking her grip, but Beka kept struggling against her nonetheless.
“I hate you!” the captain of the Eureka Maru wailed.
Freya didn’t answer, just kept her immobilized, while they watched one of the Wraith approaching Harper. The little engineer had run out of both ammunition and adrenaline, too exhausted - and in too much pain from the reawakened larvae in him - to fight any more. When one of those clawed, white hands smacked down, Beka went limp in Freya’s arms. The Nietzschean woman kept her on her feet with superhuman strength, her sharp features mirroring a strange mix of pity, compassion and vague disgust.
The fighting stopped for a moment at Harper’s inhuman shriek of pain and terror when the Wraith’s hand slammed into him. There was barely any other noise, so that everyone could hear Teyla’s surprised murmur. “Strange. It doesn’t contact with his chest.”
“The larvae!” Tyr realized. “Their life force is stronger, more aggressive than Harper’s - they were what had attracted the Wraith!”
“But… but he is not getting older!” one of the Athosians exclaimed in shock. “How is that possible?”
“The larvae, that thing is drawing life energy from the larvae!” Tyr was already making his way to Harper, firing with both überdimensional guns directly into the face of any Wraith stupid enough to get in his way. The ferocity of his attack made the creatures back off in surprise, and the defenders of Atlantis followed on his trail. Freya finally let go of Beka, who now could jump down to the deck; she landed on her feet like a Makra, shooting at everything that had long white hair.
All of a sudden, a long, terrible wail pierced the renewed battle noise. The Wraith feeding on Harper suddenly went into convulsions, foaming from the mouth, shuddered and swayed. Then it fell back on the deck with a loud thud - and was very obviously dead. The other Wraith froze in shock (such a thing couldn’t have happened on a regular basis, given their reaction) and that gave Stackhouse’s team enough time to emerge from one of the side corridors with their improvised flamethrowers (courtesy of Dr. Kavanagh) and give them the rest.
Harper stared down at the ugly, still bleeding wound on his exposed stomach; then his eyes turned upward, and he lost consciousness.
“Pick him up and get him to Dr. B,” Stackhouse barked. “Whatever it was that killed that Wraith, the doc would want it.”
A big, burly Marine scooped up the small body in his arms and vanished back in the heart of the city. Stackhouse touched his radio.
“Our sector seems cleaned out, sir,” he reported to Major Lorne. “Where do you need us next?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was two hours later that the command staff of Atlantis - at least those who survived and had already returned - gathered in the Control room. From the Andromeda crew, Tyr and Beka had been invited to join the impromptu debriefing, as the ones who were unhurt. Freya had gone to the infirmary to keep an eye on Harper. The Stargate was open, as personnel and equipment were still being transported back from the Alpha site. An exhausted Dr. Zelenka was sitting at the biometric sensors, searching for missing people. Dr. Moosekian, his unshaven face smeared with blood, tried to help him as best as he could.
“Preliminary count is forty casualties, maybe more,” Zelenka reported. “I’m still trying to line up life signs readings with actual people.”
“Are there any more Wraith lifesigns?” Major Vogel, who’d been wheeled in in a wheelchair, asked.
Zelenka shook his head. “Ne. Seems we’ve got them all. The last one was trapped in one of the deeper parts of the city. He died trying to damage city with one of their grenades.”
“In which attempt three of our men were injured,” Theresa Weir added with a grim face.
McKay shrugged. “On the bright side, there was no flooding,” he said. “And our people will recover. Have we been able to locate Lieutenant Ford yet?”
“I’m sorry, no,” Zelenka replied. “We’ve searched everywhere in the city. It’s possible he may have been beamed up into one of the Wraith darts.”
“No,” Lisa retorted promptly. “I refuse to accept that possibility.”
“Lieutenant, I’m sorry,” Zelenka said gently, “but we must consider it. We’ve searched everywhere inside city…”
“What about outside the city?” Lisa interrupted.
Zelenka stared at her in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Can’t you expand the sensors?” Lisa clarified. “Maybe he’s in the water somewhere.”
“Even if that was the case, there’s no chance that...” Zelenka began, but Lisa, desperate to find Aiden, interrupted him again.
“Look, doc I’m not asking you to swim out there. I’m only asking you to press a few damned buttons on that console. Surely that couldn’t be that hard.”
Seeing her despair, Zelenka pushed said buttons without further protest, just to put her mind at ease. Dr. Moosekian felt less gracious, though.
“Even if you’re right, I don’t see how...” he growled; then he trailed off, staring at the screen open-mouthed, as it immediately showed one human life sign in the ocean. “Oh my God. That’s him. It has to be.”
Tyr looked at Beka. “Could we use the grapplers of the Maru to pull him out of the water?”
Beka shook her head. “Nah, he’s too small for that. Those grapplers were designed to move cargo, not to reclaim wounded.”
“There’s no need,” Lisa said. “I’ll go out with a jumper - but I’ll need someone to help me with the actual pulling.”
“I’ll do,” Toussaint, who’d already recovered from the stunner blast and was currently the only combat-ready member of Aiden’s team, offered. “We’ll need a medical team in the jumper bay upon our return, though.”
“Dr. Beckett is still operating on Mr. Harper,” Theresa said, “and Dr. Biro is assisting him. But I’ll send Dr. Nguyen; he’s got a great deal of field experience.”
“I will go with you,” Tyr said to Lisa. “Pulling an unconscious man out of the ocean can be a complicated task.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lisa had no objections, and the three of them boarded Jumper Two. Tyr was impressed by the little vessel and the ingenuity of the launching process, even though Lisa didn’t tell him that Atlantis was also a starship. She felt that it wasn’t her right to give away such crucial information. Besides, she was too worried about Aiden to care for anything - or anyone - else at the moment.
When they reached the coordinates given by Dr. Zelenka, she landed the jumper on the water - the floating mode had recently been discovered by accident - and they began to search for lifesigns.
“He’s here,” Toussaint, proud owner of an artificial ATA gene, said after a few moments, “but something is not right. There’s something else, aside from him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lisa replied. “We’ll pull him out with whatever else there might be and hope for the best. He’s been floating out there for quite a while - he might be seriously hypothermic. Do you have the rope?”
Toussaint nodded and brought forth the thick coil, fastening one end near the opened rear hatch.
“I wish we had a chopper here,” he commented. “It would make pulling him in much easier.”
“Just fasten the rope around him,” Tyr growled, “and I will pull in both of you.”
Toussaint took a glance at the Nietzschean’s bulging biceps and nodded, apparently reassured. He then stripped down to his briefs - there was no reason to make his uniform wet - put on the goggles and sprang into the water. Being an experienced scuba diver, it wasn’t a problem for him to dive without an oxygen tank, even though he knew his lungs would protest afterwards.
It took him no time to localize his commanding officer. Aiden Ford was floating face down in the icy water… together with the Wraith that had attacked him. The creature seemed dead, but its hand was still plunged into Aiden’s chest. Toussaint couldn’t tell whether Aiden was still alive - under the current circumstances he should have been dead - but he didn’t waste any more time with guessing. His task was to rescue his CO - the doctors will see whether they could do something for the Lieutenant or not.
After fastening the rope around Aiden’s chest, he hurriedly resurfaced. His lungs were burning, but he didn’t care. He swam back to the jumper, held onto the open hatch with one hand and tore the goggles from his face with the other one.
“You can pull them in now,” he told the Nietzschean, still gaping for air. Shit, but he’d gotten woefully unused to this sort of exercise. A fact that he perhaps ought to change in the near future.
Tyr raised an eyebrow. “Them?” he echoed.
“He has a Wraith attached to his chest.” Toussaint clambered aboard and selected the biggest gun available. “I think it’s dead, but… just in case…”
The Nietzschean nodded his approval and pulled in the rope with the double burden seemingly without effort. When they hauled the two motionless bodies aboard, they could see that the back of the Wraith’s head was missing, as well as a considerable part of his back.
“It looks dead enough to me,” Tyr commented laconically. “Should we get it off him?”
Toussaint shook his head. “We better leave it to the doc, or else we might cause more harm than good.” He knocked on the door separating the cockpit from the rear department. “Lieutenant, we’ve got him… but it looks really bad.”
To her credit, Lisa didn’t waste any time to ask questions. Closing the rear hatch, she started the engines to return to Atlantis as fast as possible.
Chapter 17 - Aftermath