Melissa Scott - The Inheritors

Waterlight reared away from the wall, her eyes opening. “She knows I'm here!” she said. “She felt me. She knows we are here.”

“Retreat,” Teyla said. “This way.”

They scrambled back down the corridor, Teyla dropping back to cover them. Behind, the door of the control room opened, and she felt as clearly as if she'd seen — Queen Death and four of her blades. She would handle this personally. The arrival of another queen on her hive was a challenge old as the Wraith themselves. A more prudent queen might have waited or sent only her men, but Queen Death was hotheaded and angry. She did not stop to think. Or perhaps she was only too used to having her own way.

“This way!” Waterlight had retreated into the first room, the outer hall of the zenana, deserted now during the battle, a little table on its side, the game pieces scattered across the floor. Bronze looked around the door, the pike in his hands. Their fear was almost palpable.

That would not work, Teyla thought. They would retreat until they reached a door that would not open. Fortunately, Death was so focused on the young queen that she would not expect–

Teyla lunged out, P90 rising with a spray of bullets across the corridor. The two foremost blades pitched under the hail of fire, one dropping to his knees and the other reeling against the wall as Teyla slid into cover on the other side of the hall.

And still they came on, Death and the other two men. They would simply overwhelm her.

Teyla dove across again, firing as she went, a knee-high raking fire. She heard a bellow of pain and stunner bolts streaked just over her head, coalescing against the wall behind her. She landed hard on her right hip, the old bone bruise shrieking in pain, slowing her down. A blade stood over her, stunner in hand.

And then it was knocked away by a pike, flying from the Wraith's hand. Bronze brought it around backhanded, slashing the blade across the forearms. “Run!” he yelled as Teyla got to her feet.

Stunner fire followed them as they dived through the doorway, Waterlight closing it just behind them, as Bronze pitched into Teyla.

“Bronze!” Waterlight shrieked, catching at him.

Teyla leapt for the door control. “Do not open,” she told it. “Seal.”

Three stunner blasts had caught him at once. Bronze lay unmoving on the floor. Waterlight put her hand against his face. “Please be well!”

“He is stunned,” Teyla said. She felt a heavy thud against the door. “He will live if we do. But I cannot hold this door. This is Death's zenana. She will simply order it open and the ship will obey.”

The door shuddered open. Teyla brought up the P90. Bullets flew, and the remaining blade fell back under withering fire. Two shots caught Queen Death in the chest, but she stepped through it calmly, her hand closing about Teyla's neck. She lifted her off her feet like a rag doll and threw her across the room. Teyla's head struck the wall, and she knew no more.

They were almost at the shuttle bay. Radek forced himself onward, his leg burning from the old injury, the Wraith — Ember — panting at his heels. The deck felt unsteady underfoot: either the gravity was going, or the inertial dampeners, or maybe both. Something exploded down a side corridor, a flash of light and heat, and he heard Ember snarl behind him. Only a little further — yes, there was the beacon they had left behind when they first came on board. He made himself stop, check the door controls to be sure there was atmosphere in the bay, and touched his radio again.

"Eva! We are at the door."

"You'd better hurry," she answered. "I don't know how much longer this is going to hold together."

"We are hurrying," Radek answered, and the door slid back. The puddle jumper was waiting, tailgate down and ready, but Ember turned back to do something to the console beside the entrance. "Come on!"

"I must seal this hatch, or we will not be able to open the bay door," Ember answered. As he spoke the door began to move, but there was a snapping sound overhead. Radek looked up to see the central conduit splitting open, raining sparks and debris, knew in an instant that he would not be able to avoid it. And then Ember lunged at him, faster than a human could move, shoving them both toward the jumper's open stern. Radek fell, sliding to a stop at the end of the tailgate, the deck wavering unpleasantly beneath him, looked back to see the Wraith half buried by a pile of smoking debris.

"Eva! Get ready to leave!" Radek dragged himself upright, the floor wobbling again, and turned back to Ember's body. He stripped off his jacket, wrapped it around his hands to drag at the smoking conduit — thick cable, heavy but not impossible to move. The heat seared his palms, and he swore loudly, but the cable moved.

"They've knocked us loose from the hive," Eva called. "We have to go now."

Radek swore again. Ember's coat was shredded, the skin beneath it green with blood, and there were half a dozen finger-sized pieces of metal embedded in his back around the knobs of his spine. But he wasn't dead. A hand moved, and then his head, and Radek grabbed him by the arms and heaved, dragging him up the tailgate and into the jumper. He slapped the door controls, saw the tailgate begin to lift. "Ok, go!"

The puddlejumper lifted, hovering a meter or so above the deck. "I can't get the door to open," Eva said.

"Try a drone!"

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Radek saw her shoulders hunch, and a moment later a drone flashed into view, exploding against the cruiser's inner hull. The bay door blew out, debris pelting the jumper's hull, and outside the stars pinwheeled past. There was no sign of any other Wraith ships, but…. "We're tumbling," he said.

"Yeah." Eva's voice was tight. "There's a gravity field holding us steady relative to the cruiser, right?"

"Yes."

"What happens when we leave it?"

"The jumper should compensate," Radek said. "Go!"

"I really hope you're right."

The jumper lurched into motion, arrowing for the center of the bay door. Radek braced himself against the rear seats, one arm across Ember's body in what he suspected would be a futile attempt to keep him still, and abruptly the cruiser seemed to spin around them.

"The gravity field's down!"

Eva didn't answer, all her attention on the controls as she fought to keep the jumper steady. They were falling sideways, heading for the edge of the bay door. Radek ducked his head, closing his eyes, and felt rather than saw the jumper scrape hard along the jagged metal where the drone had hit. It staggered, metal keening, and then they were free.

"We're all right!" Eva said. "We're okay…."

Her voice trailed off, and Radek looked up quickly. "Except for?"

"One of the engines is out, and the jumper — either I can't fly it without it or it won't fly without it, but we're out of power."

Radek pulled himself up to the copilot's seat, scanning the navigation console. "We're okay," he said. "We're not going to run into anything immediately, and we're not going to hit atmosphere any time soon. We're okay." He suspected his voice was shakier than his words.

"Yeah." Eva nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess we are. So we just wait?"

"We wait till they stop fighting," Radek said. "And then we ask nicely for someone to come pick us up."

There were voices that echoed through Teyla's head, not through her ringing ears but through her mind itself.

“I am Waterlight of the line of Osprey.”

“You are nothing but a child!”

Waterlight. And Queen Death. Teyla opened her eyes, blinking as her vision swam. She had only been unconscious for a few moments. She lay half behind one of the seats in Death's zenana. Before her Waterlight stood with her back to Teyla, facing the other queen.