Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

But having the others nearby brought a degree of security, of safety. As long as they were together, the Wraith couldn’t track them.

And right now he needed them to track him.

His whole plan depended upon it.

Time passed. Ronon leaned back, stretched out his legs, and shut his eyes. No sense staring out at space, starting at every star that flickered. Far better to get some rest. He’d need it once things started happening.

A muted beeping woke him from his doze, and he sat up quickly, blinking as he stared out of the viewport. Was that a ship approaching? Yes. But what ship?

He rose to a crouch, his hand going to his pistol where he’d belted it outside his atmosphere suit. But he relaxed when the ship drew closer and he recognized its forward profile. The other V’rdai were back.

The shuttle grew larger so quickly Ronon had a moment’s concern that it might smash into him and through him, leaving a trail of twisted metal and bloody flesh in its wake. But it slowed when it was less than a hundred meters away, its thrusters firing in controlled bursts even as the ship’s angle shifted downward. It pivoted on its central axis as it dropped, rotating lengthwise, and slid up beside his stationary ship. With Frayne at the controls, the V’rdai shuttle brushed his ship so gently the hull barely rocked, and then eased to a stop directly beneath him. A second later, a short, sharp rap reverberated through the floor.

Ronon stamped once in reply. They didn’t have short-range communicators in their suits, and wouldn’t have risked using them even if they did, so for now stomping would have to suffice. That was fine, though. They didn’t need to communicate too much. The fact that the others had returned meant they’d detected an approaching ship. And out here, in the middle of nowhere, with a dead planet below? There was only one race that would bother to send a ship anywhere near this area.

The Wraith.

Which meant they weren’t here for the planet. They already knew it was dead — after all, they’d killed it.

No, they were here for him.

Of course, right now they’d be a little confused. Their tracking monitors had shown his device, clear as day, and they’d followed the signal out here to empty space. But now it had vanished again, courtesy of the other V’rdai separated from him by two metal hulls.

So the Wraith would be studying the area with their more conventional scanners. And they’d pick up this ship. Just sitting here, apparently dead in space.

Only it was two ships. One directly below the other. Nestled too close to be distinguished by anything but a close-up visual.

Which meant it was time for the second half of the plan.

Ronon stepped over to the console. Adarr had shown him what to push, and now he repeated the motions the tall mechanic had demonstrated, pulling this lever here and pushing this button there, then dialing this switch all the way to one side. The shuttle shuddered beneath his feet as its engines roared back to life, but he hadn’t released any of the building pressure yet. He hadn’t given the ship a direction or tapped into that thrust. It was all still potential, waiting for release.

He intended to release it. Just not in the way someone might expect.

Glancing over everything again to make sure he’d done it right, Ronon nodded and stomped once more before stepping to the airlock. He cycled it open and slid through, closing it again behind him. Then, using handholds Adarr had attached alongside while they’d waited back on the planet, he moved down to the bottom of the shuttle. The V’rdai ship was waiting there, its own engines quiet to avoid detection, its airlock open. Setien grinned at him as she crouched and reached down. Ronon caught her hand and allowed himself to be pulled inside.

“All set?” Banje asked as the airlock shut and Ronon was reunited with the rest of the team.

“Set,” he confirmed. He straightened slowly, letting his body adjust to the sudden change in orientation — what had been down for him in the other shuttle was now up here. “Where are they?”

“Less than four hundred meters, and closing fast,” Frayne answered from the controls. “Not a Dart, either. Way too big for that, though not nearly large enough for a Hive. Looks like a cruiser.”

Several of them shuddered at that, Ronon included. He’d seen cruisers over Sateda, during the battle. The Wraith used them to escort their Hive-ships — and to transport human prisoners, storing them for easy feeding. Whoever had detected his signal must have commandeered one to go after him. He hoped there were a lot of Wraith on board.

“Should be within visual range right about — now,” Frayne commented, and the others all started looking for signs of the approaching foe. Not surprisingly, Turen spotted it first, and pointed it out to the others. It had looked like a rock, dull and dark gray and lumpy, but it was definitely on an intercept course, and growing quickly.

“This had better work,” Nekai muttered to Ronon. “There’s no way we can take a cruiser otherwise.”

“It’ll work,” Ronon assured him, then glanced at Adarr for confirmation. The lanky man nodded. “It’ll work.”

They stayed where they were, no one daring to speak or move, as the Wraith ship slowed just above them. It was shaped like a Dart but much, much larger, with a wider body and broader wings and an expanded bridge section. Cruisers were capable of carrying Darts, but since it hadn’t released any Ronon hoped this one had flown in with an empty hangar. After all, the Wraith in charge was expecting a lone Runner on a stalled shuttle.

Too bad that wasn’t what was waiting for him.

“Time to go,” Banje whispered as the Wraith ship came to a stop. It was alongside the other shuttle, its forward airlock only a few meters away. Frayne nodded and nudged the controls, easing their ship down and away from the others, gliding to the side so the very shuttle they’d been hiding beneath concealed his departure. Within seconds they were a dozen meters away, and that distance increased rapidly.

Ronon looked at Nekai, who nodded his permission. “Now,” Ronon commanded. Frayne hit a control on his console, and they all heard the squawk as the shuttle transmitted a signal to the ship Ronon had just abandoned. Then Frayne was gunning their engines, putting as much distance as possible between them and the two remaining ships.

They were perhaps two hundred meters away when the shuttle exploded.

The shock waves buffeted them about, but Frayne kept a tight grip on the controls and kept them pointed well away.

Which was a good thing, because two seconds later the cruiser detonated as well.

That impact put the shuttle into a spin, throwing everyone against walls and ceiling and floor as it spiraled out of control. But only for a moment. Frayne soon had the ship stabilized again, and pivoted it around so they could admire the sight of debris being flung in every direction right where they had waited just a minute before.

“Beautiful!” Setien judged, slapping Ronon on the back hard enough to make him take a quick half-step forward. “Absolutely brilliant!”

“Nicely done,” Banje agreed. The others all nodded and added their congratulations and enthusiasm.

Ronon smiled and accepted it all. He was pleased. Everything had gone exactly as he’d hoped — better, even. The Wraith had detected his signal and then lost it but found the shuttle. They’d approached incautiously, assuming they had nothing to fear, and so hadn’t bothered to put up any shields. Adarr had rigged the engines to overload once they were activated, and then wired in the communications system so a message on the right frequency would trigger that activation. The shuttle had gone up, and clearly its destruction had damaged something within the cruiser enough that the Wraith ship had exploded right behind it. There was no way anything had survived that.