Amy Griswold - The Lost

“I beam the team off and we jump out,” Carter said. “I can keep a lock on their transmitters. As long as the hive ship’s jamming device stays down, I can pull them out anytime I need to.”

“And if the hive ship activates its jamming device after transport?” That was the catch. That was the really big catch. “Todd did not give us any idea how long it would take for a ship to come out of dormancy.”

Teyla cleared her throat. “If we can find a command terminal, I may be able to speak with the ship. While I probably cannot override Queen Death’s orders, I will certainly be able to find out what its status is and whether or not it is powering up.”

Franklin looked down the table boggling at her, but Carter didn’t even blink. Of course she was familiar with Teyla’s Gift.

“That’s good enough for me,” Sheppard said.

Of course he thought so. Sheppard was ready to jump on any half-baked plan that offered to rescue Dr. McKay, but it was Dick’s job to knock holes in things that didn’t stand up on their own. It was his job not to throw tens of lives away on one. Carter was eager to get her ship into action against the Wraith and see how it performed. She wasn’t going to be the voice of sanity.

Still, this was hopeful. This was the best lead they’d had, and the opportunity to do Queen Death some actual damage. It was in Todd’s best interest to play straight with them. If his information was genuine, they might get rid of his enemy with no effort to himself. And if the information were false, the loss of Sheppard’s team would not actually cripple Atlantis, though the double dealing would destroy any relationship between them, any tentative truce. If Todd did not wish to betray Queen Death, he could simply have said nothing, rather than risk making an enemy of one or the other. No, Todd had every reason to be telling the truth. Dick could parse that out.

“You have a go, Colonel Sheppard,” he said. The timeframe to get into position was short enough as it was.

John stopped Woolsey on the way out of the conference room. “I’ve got one more concern,” he said, letting everyone else go ahead. Teyla very carefully did not look back at him, her back straight, deep in conversation with Radek. He waited until they were out of earshot. “It’s about Zelenka.”

Woolsey nodded like he’d been expecting it. “You don’t want him on this mission.”

“This is a combat mission,” John said. “A straight up combat mission. And we don’t know what kind of shape Rodney’s going to be in. If he’s hurt or drugged or something Ronon’s going to have to carry him while Teyla and I cover. We can’t take care of Zelenka too. I’m good with him being on the team, and I know he’s been working with Ronon on the shooting range, but this is a military assault. He doesn’t belong in it. Teyla and Ronon and I will handle it.”

“Would you be surprised that I agree with you?” Woolsey smiled mirthlessly. “Dr. Zelenka stays in Atlantis this time. I never meant that he should turn into Rambo.”

“Good,” John said. “And once we get Rodney back, he’ll be off the hook.”

“As soon as Dr. McKay can return to duty,” Woolsey reminded him.

The George Hammond eased out of orbit of Atlantis’ new planet, gliding through space with a grace Sam wished she could record and keep forever.

“The course is plotted, ma’am,” her helmsman said.

Sam nodded, her hands on the arms of the captain’s chair. “Punch it.”

Ahead the hyperspace window opened in a green flash, and the Hammond lunged forward like an eager hunting dog let off the leash, charging ahead. All systems were go, everything optimal. Probably the last time that would be the case, Sam thought. They were going to go scratch the factory paint.

It was nearly sixteen hours to their rendezvous with the hive ship, timing that if Todd were correct should drop them out of hyperspace an hour after Queen Death’s ship powered down for its feeding process. Sam certainly wasn’t going to stay on the bridge the entire time. They’d rotate through the entire duty roster before they arrived, passing through a full afternoon and night for the Hammond’s crew.

And for Sheppard’s team as well. It was good to have friends out here. Sam was a team player. She’d spent most of her career embedded in a collegial structure, working with people whose skills and talents complimented hers. Solitary responsibility wasn’t her ideal command style. The crew of the Hammond were all new. They weren’t a team yet. So far they were strangers who were just beginning to work together. And tomorrow they’d be tested for the first time. She’d find out how they came together, what the gaping holes were, what their strengths and weaknesses were.

It was an intimidating thought, but Sam knew better than to let any of it show on her face. She waited until everything was running smoothly, their hyperspace passage as uncomplicated as the one that had brought them from Earth, and then returned to her quarters and her waiting laptop to do paperwork.

Her thoughts strayed. They’d uploaded to Atlantis’ databurst while they were in the city, electronic reports and private emails coming and going in fractions of a second through the wormhole opened once a week at tremendous cost in power. She’d had fifty eight incoming emails.

Her brother, Mark, had sent pictures from her niece’s soccer game and asked if she’d buy some Girl Scout cookies.

Cassie, her foster daughter, had sent three emails back to back, one asking her if she’d seen Band of Brothers, one asking if she knew anything about airborne training in Toccoa, Georgia in 1943, and one talking about how she hated her very boring job. She had been there three months, and of course it was boring. Sam didn’t think Cassie would be satisfied with nonprofit work in the long run, no matter how worthy the cause.

Teal’c had not sent one, a sure sign that he was off in trouble of his own. Otherwise he would have replied to her last one, sent from the last Milky Way gate outbound, a remote planet where once they had hunted for the Lost City of the Ancients, hoping it held weapons or secrets that would help them against Anubis and the Goa’uld. It held nothing, now or then, but it was the last Stargate, the last outpost of the Ancients in the Milky Way, before the long, cold void between galaxies.

Jack had sent seven emails, one each day since the last transmission, one for her to read each day until the next one. Hey, Carter…

And Daniel… There was a long ramble about Phoenician gods, a request for samples of alphabets now current in the Pegasus Galaxy, and the half humorous question of whether or not she’d been shot yet.

She’d reply to Daniel.

Sorry, Daniel. Not shot yet. Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see. We’re flying straight into Queen Death’s hive ship and it might be a trap or maybe not, so same old same old here. Listen, you’ve got the letters if you need them, right? I sent them to you instead of Mitchell. You know what to do with them if it comes to that. Which it won’t. I won’t bore you again telling you what a sweet ship Hammond is, but I’m still in love and familiarity isn’t breeding contempt but then it never does with me. Lots of beautiful Ancient buildings send their regards. I wish you were here. I truly do.

“We’re getting ready to exit hyperspace,” Sam said, standing up from her chair and coming around to where John and his team were waiting. “It’s about to be showtime.”

“We’re ready,” John said. They’d slept for a while, or at least he and Ronon had slept, in bunks in the cabin Sam had given them, and he expected Teyla had too, from the fact that she wasn’t yawning. Then they’d spent the rest of the trip trying not to pace and get in the way of Sam’s people. Now Ronon and Teyla looked as eager as he felt to get moving.