Melissa Scott - The Inheritors

"I'd rather stay here myself," Eva Robinson said. She sounded surprisingly calm, under the circumstances. "I'm not really comfortable flying into that mess."

"Very well," Teyla said again. "Lieutenant Sheffield, take your men to the airlock, here. I'll join you as soon as we're alongside."

The cruiser knew its business. It followed her commands almost before she could form them, dodging a drifting ship and a tangle of Darts to come smoothly alongside Death's hive. The grapples fired, pulling the ships together, and Teyla felt the hulls touch, the ports matching smoothly.

"We've got green lights on the airlock," Sheffield reported. "We're through and the corridor is clear."

"Wait for me there," Teyla ordered. She seized her P90 and ran to join them.

Cadman flattened herself against the uneven wall of the hiveship, looked across the corridor to Johnson on point. He lifted his hand to signal all clear, and she swept forward, weapon ready, stopped at the next cross corridor to consult her tablet. The Genii filled in behind her, and Ladon Radim leaned over her shoulder.

"Well?"

"We're here," she said, pointing. They were about at the midpoint of the hive, just astern of the point where it divided around the central opening. "Teyla's further up the right side, I think — she came aboard here. Heading for the control room. I guess the other Wraith are headed that way, too."

Radim nodded. "Join up with her, or take out the engines?"

You're asking me? Cadman swallowed the words, and touched her radio. "Teyla, this is Cadman. Can you hear me?"

There was a moment's silence, and then the familiar voice sounded in her ear. "I hear you, Captain."

"I'm on the hive with Chief Radim and forty men. Do you need support?"

"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 —"