Jo Graham - The Furies

“Such treachery is unthinkable!” the one kneeling before her said, his voice shaking and his eyes shining, a pretty understandable reaction to being at Teyla’s feet.

“Yes, but it is not finished,” Todd said. “We must go to the bridge. How goes it?”

The one they had called Ember nodded swiftly. “We came in close enough to get a lock. But there are three hive ships and two cruisers. The ship of She Who Carries Many Things has not fired on us.”

“Nor will they with her kinswoman aboard,” Teyla said, sweeping toward the door. “The bridge, gentlemen.” Todd followed at her elbow as though he spent every day doing exactly what Teyla told him.

Cadman boggled at him. “Play it,” John whispered as Radek came up beside them. “Just follow Teyla’s lead. And let’s find out what the hell is going on.”

“Ma’am, we are reading no transmitters aboard the hive ship.” Franklin’s voice cut through the shouting on the Hammond’s bridge. Something had shorted and a fire suppression crew were spraying foam while Sam leaned over the engineering station.

There it went. The dorsal shield was down.

“Pull us out!” she shouted to the helmsman. “We’re naked!” She put one hand to her headset. “Blue flight, this is your recall order. Return to the Hammond immediately. Repeat, all 302s. This is your recall order!”

The Hammond spun about wildly, ducking beneath Todd’s massive hive ship, open dorsal spot uppermost. Lt. Chandler deserved a commendation for this one. This was some serious flying.

“Sheppard? Sheppard?”

One of the 302s was coming in on one thruster, Captain Dwaine Grant. He’d never make it with the Hammond moving like this. Before she could say anything Chandler was on it. Behind the hive ship he could straighten out, let Grant line it up. She heard the line chatter as he slid in, inertial dampeners keeping him from being spread across the landing bay as the 302 touched wing first, skidding in a spray of sparks into the rigged barriers.

And then they were back out from behind the hive ship, rotating as they dodged fire intended for Todd’s hive. The other hive ships had entered the fray, two on one, concentrating on the hive ship rather than the Hammond , remaining cruisers closing.

“Forward shield at zero,” Franklin said calmly. Only the rear shield remained, and it was at 30 percent. All shots now would tell, and they could not take a dorsal hit.

“Sam?” Sheppard’s voice cutting through the static.

“Where are you?”

Static from EM emissions bursting up and down the spectrum. “…on Todd’s hive…” she thought she heard him say.

And then the massive hive ship started pulling back. Three Darts skimmed in, slipping through the closing maw of the Dart bay.

“Chandler, prepare to open a hyperspace window,” Sam said, stalking toward the helmsman’s station, sparks cascading from some overhead conduit.

“…Ronon?” Sheppard’s voice cut in and out.

“Say again?”

“Have you got Ronon?” John asked, almost shouting into his radio as though that would somehow cut through the interference.

And then it was gone.

He spun around, absolute silence on the radio. “What just happened?”

“We have entered hyperspace,” Teyla said, swinging around in a flurry of skirts. Whatever she was saying to Todd was telepathic, as was his reply. About them two dozen Wraith manned the bridge, way too many to take out as they stood, with no cover and Teyla in the middle of the room.

Radek visibly sagged, murmuring something in Czech.

“I don’t understand,” Cadman said.

Todd turned to her. “We cannot take on five ships, even with Colonel Carter as an ally. She was recovering fighters and her shields were down. It was time for us to retreat.”

One of the Wraith, the one who had gone on one knee to Teyla, raised his chin. “And to carry word of Queen Death’s treachery against our Queen to all who will hear!” His eyes shone as he looked at Teyla. “My Queen, this is war!”

“We are confirming the last of the 302s aboard,” Franklin said.

Another explosion rocked the ship, the scream of alarms showing a solid hit. The inertial dampeners compensated, but not before it threw Sam sideways against the helmsman’s chair. She grabbed at the backrest to stay upright. “Damage control?”

“We have hull breaches in A402 and A403,” Franklin said. “Also B402. The compartments are open to space.”

“Can you get an energy shield on it?” Sam snapped. The portside landing gear and the control matrices behind them. There shouldn’t have been personnel in there, but…

“Negative,” Franklin said. “We’ve completely lost the ventral shield.”

One of the cruisers was closing in, ready to beam over boarding parties. Unshielded, they’d have Wraith all over the ship.

“Open the hyperspace window,” Sam said. “Chandler, get us out of here.” It might be too late. She might have already waited too long. She might have already waited too long getting the last 302s aboard…

The forward windows lit with unfathomable fire, the first shockwave shaking the ship even as the hyperspace window opened, Queen Death’s hive ship exploding in a rain of visible light. Debris spread outward, propelled by the blast of the ZPM, gaining on the Hammond running before it like a skiff before a tidal wave.

The window was open, and the Hammond passed through.