Melissa Scott - The Inheritors

"We are on the jumper," Radek said. "We will be able to call for help soon."

"Not soon enough…." The words were barely a whisper.

"Tell me what to do."

"Must feed…." Ember's eyes closed again, his feeding hand lax on the padding. Was he unable to attack, Radek wondered, or was he choosing not to?

"I heard that," Eva said. "Radek, you might want to step away."

Radek ignored her, his own heart racing. He'd taken the retrovirus, he could, in theory, survive a feeding, and if Ember hadn't saved his life back in the shuttle bay, he'd certainly saved him from serious injury. "It's all right," he said, and heard his own voice thin and strained. He opened the neck of his jacket, and the shirt beneath it, aware that his hands were trembling. "I took Dr. Keller's retrovirus. He — I can let him —"

"We don't know for sure that that works," Eva said. She turned backward in her chair to stare at him. "Radek, it's too much of a risk."

"Yes, well." Radek spread his hands. "I can't just let him die." And what is the world coming to, that I am thinking this about a Wraith? What is it coming to, that a Wraith saved my life? I'm not Sheppard, these things don't happen to me… He took a deep breath. "Ember."

The green-gold eyes flickered open. "I heard. We also… worked on such a thing."

"Do it before I change my mind," Radek said.

Impossibly, something like a smile crossed Ember's face. His feeding hand moved as though of its own volition, faster than Radek had expected, fastening onto the bared skin of his chest. Pain lanced through him, worse than he would have believed possible, a hundred heart attacks, a thousand knives. It had all gone wrong, he thought, hazily, Keller was wrong, and I'm going to die. Except… his hands were unchanged, unwithered, remained ordinary and unmarked even as the pain pulled him down into the dark.

Eva swore under her breath, scrambling out of the pilot's chair, grabbing for the heavy wrench someone had left tucked into the jumper's wall straps. She had no idea what she was going to do, how she was going to stop the Wraith, but she had to try. She stopped abruptly, seeing his hand flex and release, Radek sprawling back against the base of the jumper seats, apparently unconscious but not visibly changed. Ember rolled over, his back healed beneath the drying blood and ripped leather, moved away from her, out of reach of both of them.

"I think — he is all right?"

Eva lifted the wrench, fumbled for a carotid pulse with her other hand. Yes, there it was, strong and regular, and she relaxed just a little. "I think so. Don't try it again, though."

"No." Ember shook his head. "This…. I am in his debt."

"Yeah, you are," Eva said. "You better believe it." She hauled herself back into the pilot's chair, checking the navigation screen. All the ships were green, friendlies, and she let the cloak slide away. " Hammond , this is Dr. Robinson. I'm on a puddlejumper —"

"We see you, Doctor." The voice on the radio was reassuringly steady. "Can you bring the jumper back to the city?"

"I can't. I've lost an engine pod."

"Don't worry, Dr. Robinson." That was Colonel Carter, calm as ever. "We'll tractor you aboard."

"Thank you," Eva said, and braced herself for the jolt of the beam attaching.

Five pilots lost, six injured. Four other crewmen injured. As usual the 302s had taken the brunt of the casualties. Sam nodded, listening to Franklin give the report. The Hammond 's systems were stable, though the port thrusters had taken external physical damage and the shields were extremely low. But it could have been worse. Much worse. They hadn't lost a life aboard the Hammond . They'd lost five pilots.

And Rodney.

"Franklin, you have the bridge," Sam said, getting up. Everything was on course for the moment.

As soon as Atlantis landed they would follow suit, resting beneath Atlantis's shield to repair, but for now they'd maintain orbit while their allies cleaned up. The damaged Wraith ships were surrendering to Alabaster, who was granting their parole or something with oaths of allegiance to her and to Waterlight, the young queen who seemed to have finally killed Queen Death. What exactly had happened aboard the hive was a mystery to Sam, though she knew she'd have Cadman's report when she got back. Cadman had sounded like there were things she thought it best not to say on an open channel, and she respected Cadman's judgment there. Cadman was coming along nicely. Sam was very proud of how she'd handled the last few weeks, and it was time to tell her so.

But first, the infirmary. As soon as the shooting stopped and the ship was in no immediate danger, it was time to check on her people, at least the ones who were here. Hocken was on Pride of the Genii with a concussion, but she seemed to be in one piece. She hoped Mitchell hadn't managed to do too bad a number on himself with that crazy landing. He'd hit the barrier pretty hard. With any luck he hadn't broken bones.

An airman hit the wall outside the infirmary as she approached, and Sam acknowledged the courtesy with a smile. They'd all done well. Her team was coming together.

"No, I am not going to let you set it! Dr. Beckett is going to do it. He's a real doctor!"

Sam stopped dead in the doorway. That couldn't be. That complaint, that voice…. "Rodney?"

Rodney McKay was sitting on the edge of the examining table wearing a hospital gown while McNair, one of the two physician's assistants, tried to immobilize his left wrist.

"I thought you were dead!" Sam managed.

"Well, I'm not, unless your inept military pseudo-doctor kills me!" Rodney said indignantly. "I told him to just bandage it up and transfer me over to Carson, but he won't do it. Do you realize how important it is for me to have full use of my left hand?"

"I thought you were dead," Sam said again. "We couldn't beam you aboard."

"Obviously you did," Rodney said. He looked at her with a frown.

"Obviously I didn't," Sam said. "You were at eight times the range of our Asgard beams." Something was strange here.

"Colonel Carter?" her radio beeped. "Major Lorne needs to talk to you on the bridge."

"On my way," Sam said. She looked at Rodney again. It was clearly Rodney. And just as clearly there was no way the Hammond had picked him up. A thought struck her. "Did you arrive here in your clothes?"

"Of course I did!" Rodney replied. "What? You normally beam people without their clothes and just have them appear places stark naked?"

" I don't," Sam said.

"Ma'am, Major Lorne says it's urgent."

"Coming," Sam said. It would wait.

"There is much to discuss," Alabaster said, her eyes on Waterlight. "And many things that must be decided between us before we treat with others."

"Yes," Waterlight said. To Teyla she felt awkward, unused to adult counsels without her father at her side, a place that he would never fill again.

There was a soft chime at the door, and Bronze's voice came in filled with elation. "My queens, we have the Old One!"

Alabaster let out a soft hiss. "Bring him in," she said, and Teyla moved to stand beside her, Waterlight to her other side.

He was dignified as ever, flanked as he was by Bronze's blades. They seemed like boys beside him, too sharp and unfinished.

"You have done well, my blade," Waterlight said, and her voice was even.

"Thank you, my queen."

"Leave us," Alabaster said.

Bronze hesitated. "He is dangerous," he began.

"We know that," Waterlight said. "But not to three queens."

Bronze blushed, backing out with his men before him.

"I do not see three queens," the Old One said contemptuously. "I see two, and those hardly more than fruit-fed little girls."