It's hard to find words to describe the transit through the gate... Perhaps the fact that I'd seen it many times on screen, that I knew about the device's reliability, that... Perhaps the fact that I had some kind of past experience, allowed me not to scream with joy when the bluish puddle of the Atlantis stargate turned into a green field bathed in the light of a distant planet before my very eyes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to notice the "mushroom" of a standard dialing device standing at a distance and slightly to the side of the gate... But the jumper, moving in a straight line at a breakneck speed, shot off into the distance.
Stargate on a planet in the Pegasus galaxy.
Pulling the yoke slightly towards me, I felt the ship vibrate as its nose tilted up. Through the windshield, I could see approaching snow-white clouds, as well as a welcoming blue sky...
Praying that nothing would happen and no one had seen my emergence from the gate, I closed my eyes to concentrate.
At first, I thought about orbiting the planet to let the sensors scan everything much better. But then I realized I simply had neither the time nor the desire to get into space.
And yes, I was afraid that the technology, having lain unused for ten thousand years without maintenance, might decide to finally return to its technical god. Falling from a couple of hundred meters would be more pleasant than falling from thirty or forty kilometers. It would hurt, but in the first case, the chance of survival seemed higher.
What I really needed right now was to become invisible and learn more about this planet... That would be great, honestly.
The Jumper really is a machine extremely tolerant of human stupidity. If you think about it, by reacting to my thoughts, agitated by the flight and being on a new planet, the ship could have done anything. Shut down the engines, for example, or fire its onboard weapons...
One way or another, nothing unusual happened.
The jumper activated its cloaking field, hiding it from various kinds of sensors and prying eyes alike. I understood this with some sixth sense and looked straight ahead.
Projections on the windshield, you say? Car manufacturers have nothing on what I'm seeing before me right now.
A virtual screen, displayed on the inner side of the ship's porthole, was crowded with numerous tags.
This is what the pilot's cockpit in a jumper and the virtual screen look like.
In one part of the projection, I could see a schematic image of the planet I had arrived on. A cute little planet.
Only slightly larger in size than Mother Earth, it nonetheless had a vast ocean washing two continents. One was the size of Earth's Australia, and judging by the sandy landscape, just as desert-like as its counterpart.
But the second continent...
Eurasia was a child's toy compared to it. Massive, it covered the entire northern hemisphere of the planet, crowning it with a giant ice cap. And only much further south, seven or eight thousand kilometers from the equator, the landscape changed to spacious plains interspersed with low cliffs and hills. Full-flowing rivers, which any native of a formerly unified state would immediately dub Dnieper-1, Dnieper-2, and so on down the list, carried their waters across the entire landmass, feeding numerous lakes compared to which even Baikal or the Caspian Sea would be nervously smoking on the sidelines.
But the second part... That I really didn't like.
"Hive Ship," I coughed out, staring at the image on the left side of the virtual screen.
Letting my gaze wander across the screen, I saw many dots swarming over the planet's surface. Those, I presumed, were Wraith fighters, known as Darts.
Damn... I didn't like what was happening.
"They should be hibernating," I muttered, guiding the ship away from the cluster of Darts. And it wasn't easy to find such a spot — the planet was literally teeming with Wraiths.
I guessed it was a harvest.
While the cloaked jumper moved away, I could only be glad that the cloaking system, like the rest of the ship, was functioning properly. If the Wraiths had detected me... It would have been very, very bad.
But the ship of the people-devouring beings was on the far side of the planet. And I hoped their technology wasn't advanced enough to detect me right after I emerged from the gate.
It was strange that the gate was working at all... I remembered that the Wraiths would activate them during their attacks on people to prevent the population of the attacked world from fleeing. As admirable as the Ancients' technology was, you couldn't go back and forth through the gate while it was active. You could establish either an outgoing or incoming hyper-tunnel — in either case, travel was only possible from point A to point B during the activation period. It didn't work any other way.
As far as I remembered, by the time the expedition appeared in the galaxy, the Wraiths should have been asleep for many more years. The Earthlings were the reason they woke up. And an incredible multitude of aliens hungry for human "food" descended on planets across the galaxy.
And until now, I had thought that the phrase "Wraiths are hibernating" meant that their ships were on planets, and any gatherings that occurred were done through the gates exclusively by Darts. Turns out, I was wrong.
"And this is really bad," I muttered, seeing a good dozen fast-moving red markers heading towards the gate. Looks like I'm out of luck today — the Wraiths detected me and sent Darts to investigate. Bad, very bad.
Through the cloaking field, they couldn't see or detect me, but I also didn't have time to land somewhere and wait for them to get bored. It would be fine if the Wraiths just saw a blip on the scanners. Very bad if they determined it was an Ancient ship.
For ten thousand years now, no Ancient ships had moved freely in this galaxy. And the Wraiths knew that perfectly well — they had a hand in that. Direct participation, so to speak.
The jumper had weapons on board — drones, self-guided "missiles" of Ancient manufacture. But, first, there were at most ten of them, maybe a dozen. That would be enough to destroy at most the same number of Darts. And that's only if I was a damn good shot and pilot. Second, even with the best will in the world, I couldn't destroy the main threat — the Hive Ship — with such an arsenal.
Or could I?
I had to dig deep into my memory to recall everything I knew about Wraith flagship vessels.
A Hive Ship. Not an Imperial Star Destroyer, of course, but it could cause enough trouble to make you weep, plain and simple.
To put it in simple terms, a Hive Ship is a fusion of a space carrier, carrying a massive number of fighters and other small vessels — Wraith shuttles and the like — on board. The Wraith live and fly on these ships. And feed, too.
Wraith starships have no shields — nothing like what keeps Atlantis from flooding. But their ships, like all their technology, are organic in nature. Essentially, it's a giant flying ecosystem, capable of interstellar hops through hyperspace and flight in normal space. Just with a huge crew — I think there must be close to a thousand Wraith of all stripes on a Hive Ship — energy cannons, and a unanimous opinion of any human. Food. To the Wraith, we're nothing more than food.
But not in the classical sense — meat, bones, fat. The Wraith feed on something like the life force of humans. A sort of unscientific parasite that can, in a single "sitting," age a nineteen-year-old boy to the state of a mummy. Thanks to this method of "feeding," the Wraith possess incredible regeneration and longevity. In the series, despite the ten thousand years since the war with the Ancients, many Wraith remembered those times.
Despite their size, Hive Ships can enter a planet's atmosphere and land. In fact, I'd thought that during hibernation, they landed on secret planets where no one would disturb them. And the Wraith sleep with one purpose: to let their human herds multiply. Everyone likes to eat...
On board the Hives, there are special chambers holding prisoners captured on planets. Of course, they're kept there until the Wraith on the ships decide to snack on "afternoon tea provisions." And then comes the turn of those who weren't "drained" immediately.
The Jumper, following my thoughts, highlighted the weapons ports, main engines, hyperdrive, sensors on the Hive Ship's schematics… And the longer I looked at it all, the more clearly I realized: I had no chance here.
"The most sensible idea is to get the hell out of here," I offered the idea to myself. And cautiously guided the Jumper back toward the gate.
Ten seconds later, I realized that was absolutely not the best option for resolving the situation. It seemed the Wraith had decided to fill a gap in their tactics — the gate was open for passage from Sudaria… to somewhere. To another gate in orbit around some planet, to a planet swarming with Wraith, to a trap with no escape, or even straight into a Hive Ship (that happened in the series, too) — any of the options was repulsive.
But a second later, I realized I was wrong in my assumptions. It wasn't an outgoing but an incoming wormhole that was open.
Through it, one after another, five more Darts slipped into Sudaria's sky, forming a wedge as they streaked upward. Uh-huh, the caravan was heading for the sky, and my plans were going straight to hell.
A Dart is a very fast, maneuverable, energy-weapon-armed biotechnological small Wraith vessel. Essentially, it's a knockoff of a Jumper, but, given the Wraith's backwardness, not as advanced. No shields, no cloaking, but excellent aerodynamics that allow it to operate equally effectively in space and atmosphere.
On board, there's a dialing device, just like on a Jumper, which means any of the Darts can open the gate and stop me from getting out of here.
Additionally, on board each Dart, there's a device that allows it to pass through walls and ceilings, dematerializing — or, conversely, materializing — objects and organic matter. That's how the Wraith collect people: they fly over them in Darts and convert them into pure energy, which is stored in special buffers on board the ship. Then, on their Hive or base, they dematerialize the cargo and get the people back. Usually, due to the technology's effect, they're unconscious and unable to fight back.
Very convenient and devilishly well thought out.
Wraith Darts.
I had to assume the Wraith had called for reinforcements. Because these five Darts weren't hunting people — they weren't flying toward the villages I spotted on my scanners. They were landing soldiers and officers right next to the spot over which I'd activated my cloak.
And it wasn't just these five...
A good dozen Darts were returning to the Hive Ship, then coming back and landing more and more Wraith right next to the gate. I figured there were already enough for a couple of platoons.
Which meant the problems were only increasing exponentially. I had to think realistically — if I fell into Wraith hands, they'd interrogate me first in the finest traditions of mental mages from fantasy books, and then, once they got to Atlantis, they'd eat me. After that, anyone around could only envy me.
And while the hypothetical "anyone" didn't really concern me, I wanted to take care of my own hide enough to keep it attached until a ripe old age. So, it was better not to do anything rash. That included shelving any attacks on the Hive, the Darts, and the Wraith in particular.
These connoisseurs of human life were closely connected through telepathy and could easily send each other mental messages over short distances. I knew for certain that the Queens, who led any group of Wraith in a Hive, and the Officers — which was what I'd dubbed the male Wraith who didn't wear facial masks — could do this. They were something like commanders, scientists, advisors to the Queens… In any case, I really didn't want to get acquainted with any of them.
Yes, I had a weapon. I had a personal shield. But… one against several hundred? I was sure I could take out a few Wraith. But more would come after them. And the shield, the weapon — they'd run out of power sooner or later. I didn't know exactly when — I hadn't had time to study the tech properly; my mind had been filled with ideas on how to get here.
And now, on the contrary, how to get out. Preferably with the ZPM. It would be absolutely perfect if I didn't drag the Wraith back to Atlantis with me and didn't become the reason they all woke up. If they weren't already awake, that is.
I needed a good plan.
A Wraith Officer — in the center. Wraith Soldiers… They started wearing masks on their faces before it became mandatory.
The original plan had seemed perfect to me.
No, I wasn't going to do what happened in the series: fly to a planet, get to know the locals, study their legends about the "Treasure of Quindozim" a.k.a. the ZPM — puzzle over riddles, then reach the dungeon and find it. And then mess up, get into trouble, almost lose the device, reclaim it, rejoice… And still lose it in the end.
I had a different philosophy.
Find a fortress-like settlement where the plot had unfolded, then scan its surroundings to locate the underground vault where the ZPM was hidden. Yes, there was a chance the dungeon would be shielded from scanners — otherwise the Wraith would have found it in all this time. But, remembering they'd very rarely paid attention to what was hidden underground, unless traces of energy were coming from it, it was unlikely. The ZPM — a battery with a massive power reserve for various devices — had been here for ten thousand years. And the Wraith had visited the planet, but hadn't found anything. So there was a chance.
More precisely, there had been. Because I'd planned to blow up the upper part of the dungeon with drones, go down there, grab the ZPM, and get out before the locals reacted to the explosion's roar or anything else.
It was a good plan… Except I hadn't anticipated the Wraith showing up here at all. Yes, I should have considered that since a lot of time had passed since the expedition's supposed arrival, the situation on the planets might have changed, but… A Hive Ship⁈ A bunch of Wraith on the planet⁈
No, life hadn't prepared me for that.
I moved the Jumper farther away from the Wraith concentration and started watching them. Nothing about it looked like they were specifically searching for the ship.
The infantry had dispersed through the forest, advancing in small squads of four or five Wraith led by a commander. Most of the Darts continued hunting people, while the rest patrolled over the forest…
As if they were looking for something.
I felt a bad premonition stir.
Something or someone? Maybe one of the locals had managed to escape into the forest, and the Wraith were hunting them now. But… several platoons of soldiers against local villagers who'd never even heard of machine guns? Something didn't add up…
And then, on the Jumper's virtual screen, one Dart's marker disappeared, then a second…
It couldn't be a coincidence. Especially since the locals clearly had nothing like MANPADS or a grenade launcher to shoot down Darts. I didn't believe in piloting errors either. So…
Literally a kilometer away from me, there was a Dart that, noticing the other two ships had vanished, made a sharp turn and headed for the crash site. The turn it executed would have been tough for any Earth pilot in an Earth fighter. But spaceships in this universe had inertial dampeners, so the pilot and crew didn't feel G-forces during maneuvers.
I didn't have and still didn't have a plan for what to do next, but at least now I had some rough ideas. Specifically, from the scanners, I could tell the Wraith were pulling all their forces toward the crash area. Three more markers disappeared — judging by the exhaust trail I'd caught, someone in the forest was definitely hunting the Wraith fighters, and not with bows and arrows.
The locals were nowhere near that level… So I had only one thought about what was happening here. The Wraith were hunting for someone important.
It seemed the Wraith's ancestors had told them too often that you shouldn't play with your food… The kids had grown up to be bastards cosplaying as a satanic rock band. Pale skin, bare biceps, leather clothes, greasy long hair… And they loved the hunt.
I felt sorry for the poor soul who'd become their prey, but I couldn't help him. If I were a doctor — preferably a neurosurgeon — … But even then — probably not.
Maybe, once I found the ZPM, I'd risk checking out who this guy was that had become the target of the hunt. Maybe he was one famous Satedan… Unlikely. That would be monstrous luck.
But that was for later. While the Wraith were hunting their stubborn target, I had every chance to scan the area. Especially since, as I'd noticed, there were no locals left here anymore…
* * *
Somewhere far to the east, a powerful explosion rang out. Jensen nearly tumbled head over heels when he heard it.
The people of Dagana — as Sudaria was now called — didn't have explosives; he knew that for sure. And he'd used up all his remaining anti-air rocket launchers to get rid of the pushy Darts. Maybe the locals had deceived him after all…
And, to be honest, he was hoping for it. So, ignoring his fatigue, he rushed in that direction. Fortunately, he had the chance to pick up some stashed weapons along the way.
A person adapts to anything.
For three months now, Alvar Jensen had adapted to being the Runner. That's what they called those the Wraith used as hunting sport. Or for training their soldiers.
It wasn't known for sure, but that didn't bother him. There was only one rule in a Runner's life: don't stop. Wherever you were, wherever you went — the Wraith followed. There was no escaping it. No getting away from it. He hadn't chosen this life — he'd just been unlucky enough to survive a Hive's hunt on his planet's population. They'd taken everyone. Only former soldiers were left as Runners, allowed to go.
But first, they'd made it so they couldn't escape the Wraith on any planet in this galaxy. Alvar had thought he could shake the pursuit here. But he hadn't.
Without slowing his pace, he vaulted over a fallen, moss-covered tree. Landing on his feet, Alvar loosed an arrow from his bowstring with barely any aim. A Wraith soldier, emerging from behind a massive tree ten paces from the Runner, caught an arrow right in the face.
The metal tip pierced the ugly mask and went straight into the skull. The Wraith collapsed onto his back, dropping his rifle. The man didn't even glance at the fallen enemy's weapon — he already had one like it. Alvar immediately nocked another arrow and kept running. Even though he had firearms and even energy weapons on him, he didn't use them, so as not to give away his position.
Alvar Jensen, the Runner.
Yes, the Wraith had a way to find him in any forest, but right now they were somewhat busy. They were probably examining the discarded rocket-launcher tubes to figure out how he'd managed to shoot down so many Darts. Too bad to lose such valuable weapons, but otherwise, the Darts would have just taken him aboard or adjusted the search area.
Now he'd plunged into a dense thicket to make their pursuit harder. The Wraith had tried to change the rules of the game and grab him with a Dart, but he'd been ready for that. No matter; let them run on their own two feet — it was good for their health.
Besides, he'd set quite a few traps and snares in this forest… They might not help, but he had to figure out how to fight them.
As if in answer to his thoughts, explosions from anti-personnel mines he'd scattered through the forest a few hours ago, when the hunt for him had just begun, rang out. Counting the blasts, he smirked — all three had gone off. Good. That meant a few fewer enemies.
But none of those explosions compared to the one he'd heard earlier and toward which he was now moving. That could mean the creators of that explosion were already dead. And the Darts that had swept overhead didn't add any confidence that everything would be fine by the time he arrived. But he had no other options. He had only a couple of arrows left for his makeshift bow. A primitive weapon, but effective when you needed to save ammo for the only rifle he had left. The Wraith stunner he also carried wasn't for killing — only for buying time. Paralyzed enemies would get back up and continue the pursuit.
When he'd had the chance to stock up on weapons from his homeworld, fighting back had been much easier. But now… It seemed the Wraith had grown tired of anti-personnel mines, machine guns, and explosive rounds.
His supplies were almost gone, and he'd planned to restock, but hadn't managed. The only option was to dial the address of this planet and try to lose his "tail" for good. But bad luck seemed far more favorable to him than its opposite.
A white-blue energy charge, looking like a glob of water, whistled past him. Without looking back, the Runner started zigzagging between trees, trying to avoid being hit. A Wraith stunner charge pierces you with pain in an instant and forces your muscles to relax. After that comes only death.
His clothes were soaked with sweat, his legs were burning, his lungs were about to burst out of his chest, but he didn't stop running.
Only after he dove into a ravine where he'd set up a position did the man manage to catch his breath for a moment.
Peeking out from cover, he saw a squad of Wraith approaching. Five of them, including a commander in long leather robes. No other enemies were in sight, but that didn't mean it would stay that way.
Pulling a hidden automatic rifle out from under some branches, he leaned against a tree trunk growing at the edge of the ravine and aimed at the enemy. The trackers had no doubt noticed that he'd stopped and decided to surround him. Maybe that tactic would work, but definitely not today.
A short burst of powerful rounds blew the enemy squad leader's head apart like an overripe fruit. The soldiers oriented on the sound of the shots immediately, but he managed to take down two more before the enemy soldiers opened fire with their stunner rifles.
But their accuracy was a huge problem — all the charges hit the tree. That was exactly why Alvar had hidden behind it — to minimize the target area of his own body.
It took a couple of minutes to finish off both pursuers. The Wraith soldiers, as he'd already figured out, weren't bright. Many rookies under his command back on his home planet had been far sharper.
Still, he had nothing against the enemy staying just as stupid. The more they missed, the better his chances of survival.
Twice more he got into firefights with Wraith, but couldn't achieve the same result. The enemy was starting to tighten the noose around him, so the only thing left to do was run.
And hope that ahead, at the explosion site, there would be someone to help him deal with the enemy. Too much hope to place in strangers, but that was life.
Maybe, of course, the Wraith would give him a chance to rest and recover — they'd done that a couple of times before when he'd killed a large number of them. But if there was someone else on the planet threatening them, they'd hardly take a break.
Lost in his thoughts, he burst out of the forest into a wide clearing. Looking around, he realized there were no Wraith here.
But there was a huge hole in the center of the clearing, undoubtedly leading somewhere underground.
"I hope there are tunnels down there," the Runner said.
The Wraith scanner they used to track his movements couldn't decipher the terrain. So he'd managed a couple of times on other planets to lure the Wraith into swamps. Another time, he'd led them into catacombs and escaped, shaking off the pursuers who'd gotten lost in the stone labyrinth. But back then, there hadn't been a Hive Ship hanging over the planet…
Wraith shots flickered nearby again. The squad pursuing him was about fifty meters away, shooting more at random than with any real hope of hitting their target.
There was a chance to break away.
The Runner tore the last remaining smoke grenade from his belt and threw it behind him. He had about ten seconds while the Wraith got through the obstacle. They'd clearly decide to wait it out, since in the past he'd used smoke to catch them in various traps.
And he'd have time to escape into the pit and get lost in the catacombs.
Knowing that in the open he was an excellent target, Alvar still dashed across the clearing. Firing on the move, he figured only a few enemy fighters were chasing him — one squad. But the others were clearly nearby.
A few meters short of the pit, the former soldier noticed that it wasn't a charge detonation site, but the trace of a projectile that had slammed into the ground, plowed some distance, and only then detonated. And this trace was a trench in the earth that he could use to descend into the dungeon without fear of injury.
A lucky find.
Already running up to the trench, Alvar saw a man climbing out of the ground. Young, with a military-style short haircut, maybe twenty to thirty years old. And suspiciously cleanly dressed for someone crawling on all fours through the dirt. Light-colored clothes that caught the eye, with an unfamiliar cut that seemed suspicious. The guy was pressing something glowing with a yellow light to his chest, and in his other hand, he held a strange-looking weapon. He was looking around frantically, as if he saw something suspicious…
But nothing was as suspicious as the piercing sound that made your ears ache the moment a Dart went into a dive.
"There's nothing here!" the Runner shouted at the stranger, realizing the man was confused by the Wraith's mental attacks. If you weren't used to it, it seemed like there were swift shadows and rustles all around… That was how the Wraith disoriented their victims. "It's all an illusion!"
The guy looked at him, aiming his weapon.
And the Runner already knew what would happen next.
Without stopping, he dropped to one knee, aiming his rifle at the spot where the Wraith gathering beam touched the ground.
"Stay right where you are!" the stranger shouted at him.
"Get out of the way, you idiot!" Alvar replied, searching for the Dart. The man saw it too.
Raising his pistol, he fired several times at the side of the Wraith fighter as it descended for its dark work. The craft dodged two energy bolts — mostly due to the shooter's abysmal aim — but a third struck its nose section.
The Dart shrieked louder, thick black smoke pouring from the breached hull. A hit that would definitely keep it from returning to service.
But it was already too late.
The transparent, water-mirage-like gathering beam of the Wraith — pierced by bright rays of light — plowed the ground right next to them, to the left of the stranger.
The Wraith gathering beam.
But its goal wasn't to collect both men — on the contrary, it was to deploy a squad of Wraith.
Their leader fired a stunner at the stranger, but Alvar had already opened fire, using the pause. With one burst, he took down two enemy soldiers closest to him. The squad leader and two other enemy soldiers aimed their weapons at him…
And at that same moment, the stranger, who'd fallen to the ground after the shot, unexpectedly rose, got on one knee, and raised his weapon, aiming at the Wraith. Only their leader managed to react, re-targeting the sudden threat.
His stunner fired, but it didn't harm the man — the white-blue charge splashed across an illusory green haze surrounding him. The return shot blew the Wraith's skull off.
Alvar shot another soldier as the stranger finished off the second.
"You have a shield!" Yenser realized, approaching the young man.
The latter, squinting, shook his head.
"Sure looks like it from here!"
"I don't understand," the Runner tensed, looking at the stranger.
"We all have our flaws," the man replied, aiming his weapon at him. The soldier, not expecting this, reacted a split-second after a bright blue energy bolt tore from the angular crystal at the front of the stranger's weapon.
Alvar didn't have time to think he was about to die before he heard a disgusting sound just behind him — the same sound that had come from the stranger's shot when he'd killed a Wraith a couple of seconds ago. Turning around, he saw the commander of the pursuing squad falling to the ground, a hole the size of a human head in his chest.
But his soldiers, now leaderless, opened sporadic fire. About fifteen meters separated them; they'd just come out of the forest. It seemed the commander had decided to sneak up on him and take the Runner's life himself, which was why he hadn't shot. The soldiers were supposed to be covering him…
Arrogance.
Together with the stranger, Alvar dealt with the enemies in a couple of seconds. The guy, even though he hit only one shot out of three, had a defense that let him stand under enemy fire and ignore hits. And with the power of his weapon… whether it hit an arm, a leg, or a head — the holes in the Wraiths' bodies were such that no regeneration could help them.
Still, to be safe, Alvar put two rounds into each of their heads.
"We need to go," he said to the stranger, who was picking up the golden object — a large crystal-looking thing — from the grass.
There was no time for introductions — the Runner spent it usefully, swapping his empty magazine for a loaded one. The second-to-last magazine, incidentally.
"Fully agree," the stranger had an unknown accent. Rough, but understandable enough.
"We'll lose ourselves in the catacombs you came out of," Alvar pointed at the hole in the ground and took a step toward it.
But the guy grabbed his arm, causing the greenish haze of the personal shield to flare around him again. The hairs on the Runner's arm stood on end, reacting to the proximity of the energy.
"I have a better idea," the stranger said, nodding his head as if inviting him to follow. Then, without further explanation, he silently started walking across the clearing. "Come with me if you want to live."
Hearing the howl of Darts, Jensen wanted to warn the guy that they needed to get out faster — they weren't on a stroll, after all. But what he saw made him swallow the words he'd never gotten out.
The stranger, taking another step, literally vanished into thin air.
"Well, I'll be damned," Alvar said with a hint of admiration in his smirking voice and rushed after him. Could this be the very chance he hadn't even dared to hope for⁈
Exactly at the spot where the stranger had vanished, he took a step… And saw a dark-green hull of a clearly human-built ship in front of him. The rear hatch was open, and working engines were visible on the sides, flickering with a steady white light.
"Surprise after surprise," the man whistled.
"If you're not in a hurry, you can stick around," the stranger offered, taking a seat in the part of the ship that was clearly the cockpit. "Less hassle for me. Chivalry never got anyone anywhere good anyway…
Without hesitating, Jensen climbed aboard the ship and dropped into the seat next to the stranger. Behind them, with the quiet sound of drives, the hatch slammed shut. The guy in the adjacent seat grabbed the awkward-looking control yokes, and the ship shot upward, rocketing away from their meeting point.
Though he was surprised by the quality of the technology, Alvar didn't show it. But he couldn't stop himself from examining the magnificent ship from the inside. Something about this design and the patterns seemed familiar…
A glowing image appeared in front of the cockpit glass, showing a schematic of their ship. And a blinking red dot where he was sitting. But he couldn't decipher the multitude of symbols next to it.
"It didn't work out," the stranger said.
"What do you mean?" Alvar asked, but deep down, he already knew what was coming.
"The transmitter the Wraiths planted in you," the pilot said. "The cloaking field doesn't suppress its signal. But it was worth a try."
"Any ideas what to do next?" the Runner asked. He didn't have any ideas yet about how the ship and its pilot could help, but he wasn't in the habit of giving up. It simply couldn't be that the owner of such a ship, such technology, had no ideas for shaking the Wraiths off their tail.
"Misha," the guy said without looking away from the controls, extending his right hand. Alvar didn't bother being surprised that he was only now using a greeting gesture and responded properly.
"Alvar," he introduced himself, deciding the former stranger had told him his name. "Your great idea is to exchange names? Couldn't think of anything better?"
The screen changed and now showed a huge number of red dots approaching their ship from all sides.
"Have to start somewhere," the new acquaintance sighed.