Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

“He liked to be thorough,” Ronon agreed. “Watch out for a secondary charge tied to the first — cut the first without deactivating the second and it’ll go off and ignite the larger charge along with it.”

“I see it,” Rodney acknowledged. “Nasty. I can take care of that, though — short loop here to bypass that, a shunt over here to reroute this, a. ” his words trailed off as he worked, though Sheppard could still make out an indistinct mumbling from time to time. This part he wasn’t worried about, though. It would take a lot to out-paranoid Rodney McKay.

Finally Rodney spoke again. “All set,” he said. “I’m coming back in.”

“Nasty piece of work,” he explained once he was safely back in the Jumper again.

“What about the lock?” Teyla asked. “Did you have any luck discerning how he managed that?”

“Oh, that’s taken care of,” Rodney assured her. He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Turns out he went low-tech on the lock — magnetically clamped an iron net across the outer ring, then ran a small electrical charge through it. The charge actually courses through the ring as well, tripping whatever sensors it’s got, and the gate thinks it’s butted up against something big and solid and utterly immovable. The gate won’t open as long as that charge remains — it thinks it’s buried, specifically against a slab of iron or some other highly magnetic mineral, and its own safety protocols keep it locked up tight.” He held up what had looked like an empty mesh bag he’d been trailing when he returned, and which the others now realized was the net in question. “Clever, too — I wouldn’t have thought of locking a gate that way, but it definitely works. I’ll have to keep it in mind next time I go somewhere and don’t want Woolsey sending babysitters after me.”

“Except that we’re usually through the gate in front of you,” Sheppard told him dryly, provoking a snort from Ronon and a smile from Teyla even as Rodney grimaced. As he made the crack Sheppard repositioned the Jumper, aiming it at the gate, and was just inputting Atlantis’s dialing code when an alarm flashed on one of the consoles.

“Someone is approaching in hyperspace,” Teyla warned, scanning the readings. “They’re targeted on the Stargate, and about to drop back into normal space. The energy signature is Wraith.”

“Cloaks up!” Sheppard announced, activating the Jumper’s stealth technology. Then he skipped the little ship sideways so it was on the gate’s far side, and spun it on its axis until it was pointing a little ahead of the Stargate. This way the Jumper’s guns would be facing whatever came through — assuming they popped out of hyperspace facing the other way. He tried not to think about what would happen if they were facing this direction instead.

He watched intently, hands poised above the controls, as the patch of space just off to the side of the Stargate flickered and shimmered. It blurred and seemed to bend and swirl, and then a long, blunt nose pierced that disruption. A vaguely triangular body followed, jagged and dangerous and too unevenly textured to be strictly manufactured. And it just kept coming, growing larger and larger as more slid through the subspace window and dominated the space around them.

“Hive ship!” Teyla whispered unnecessarily. They had all seen the Wraith command ships far too many times already. As they watched, the Hive ship took up a position a short ways in front of the Stargate — though with its back to the gate, Sheppard was happy to see — and then smaller, sleeker vessels burst from its sides and streaked toward the planet Sheppard and his crew had so recently left behind.

“They’re after Nekai and the other V’rdai,” Sheppard said, a little amazed despite himself. He’d guessed the Wraith would be closing in on the Runner-hunters, but he’d figured a few Darts, not an entire Hive ship! Ronon’s former friends must have pissed the Wraith off one too many times. He glanced at Ronon, and thought he saw a flicker of concern and maybe guilt for a second, but then his friend’s face went back to its usual scowl. What was he thinking? Was he regretting leaving them there like that? They could have brought the V’rdai with them, trussed up in the Jumper’s cargo hold, but what would they have done with the Runners then?

“Can you get us out of here?” Rodney asked from behind him, interrupting Sheppard’s musings. “Or are we stuck?”

“We’re not stuck,” Sheppard assured him. “I just have to figure out our next move.” He thought about it, and gauged the distances involved. “Okay, I think this’ll work. Teyla, I need you to dial another gate for me — not Atlantis but one we know, and one we can visit without anyone shooting at us.”

“What about the Tower?”

“Do it,” Sheppard agreed. They had visited that planet, and its ruined remains of a Lantean city-ship, some time ago, but still maintained good relations with the people there. “Don’t activate it yet, though — wait until I give the word.”

“Understood.” Teyla’s fingers danced across the dialing console, and then she paused and waited. While she was doing that, Sheppard slid the Jumper quickly but quietly behind the Hive ship, putting them between the Wraith and the gate. Even at this close range the Wraith wouldn’t be able to penetrate their cloak without a targeted scan, and why would they scan behind them when they were already focused on the prizes they expected to find on the planet nearby?

“Get ready,” Sheppard warned once they were in position. “Okay, now!” He gunned the Jumper’s engines as Teyla activated the gate. He watched the familiar flicker of light and lightning, followed by the burst of color and light and what looked like, but wasn’t, water as the Stargate activated, the flume erupting from its center like a volcano. The energy-surface was still settling when they pierced it and entered the distortion that carried them across the stars. A minute later Sheppard was able to shake his head and clear it enough to regain control of the Jumper and to notice the planet down below. The single spire rising above the trees was unmistakable.

“Okay, find us a different gate now, one out in space somewhere,” he instructed, and took them back through the second Teyla had entered their new destination. He jumped them twice more before he felt it was safe to head for Atlantis itself — it wasn’t that the city didn’t have defenses, or that the Wraith didn’t know where it was, but he still didn’t like the idea of anyone tagging along behind him.

But finally he shut down the Jumper, safe within Atlantis’s docking bay, and pulled off his helmet. “We’re home,” was all he said, but it was enough.

For now. He sighed as he stood and made his way toward the airlock, knowing Woolsey would be waiting to hear all the details of their mission, and what had happened to delay them afterward. Sheppard glanced over at Ronon, who stared back at him, his face as blank as usual, and wondered exactly how much he should say about the men and women who had attacked them, or their connection to the big Satedan he considered one of his closest friends.

“Well, it’s about time!” Mister Woolsey was sitting in his office as usual, and set aside whatever report he’d been studying as Sheppard led his team in. “We’ve been trying to contact you for almost thirty-six hours. It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission.”

“Things didn’t exactly go as planned,” Sheppard told him, stopping in front of the Atlantis commander’s desk and standing more or less at rest, military style, with his hands behind his back, legs slightly apart. One of the things he did like about Woolsey was that the man didn’t stand on ceremony, but he also knew the former NID agent appreciated an observance of basic protocol. It also gave him the opportunity to gesture to his three teammates, warning them to keep quiet and let him handle this.