."..never seen anything like this technology," a male voice came. The source was somewhere nearby, but no matter how much I wanted to see what was going on around me, I decided to keep my eyes closed for now.
There's another trick to this—you might not know it, but the movement of your eyes under closed eyelids is visible. So it's better to keep your eyes still.
After all, I have my hearing.
As well as hands tied behind my back and legs bound at the ankles. And it's kind of cold in here.
It took me a few seconds to figure out what position I was in. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall with my left side. Perfect, I can try.
Slightly opening my left eye, I saw my legs and chest. So, what do we have?
I'm sitting against the tunnel wall, near the entrance to the very room I was planning to loot. A medical supply room. And it looks like it's already been broken into.
Opposite me, I can see the stern of the jumper, and the ship's condition doesn't look good. The ramp is open, and the inner bulkhead separating the cargo and passenger cabins has been brazenly forced open. I don't know how much time and effort these guys spent, but they pried the doors apart.
Meaning Chaya could be their prisoner.
Inside the ship, I counted two—one was pretending to understand the open panels with control crystals in the aft section, the other was doing the same over the instrument panel. The lack of backlighting in both cases indicated the ship had no power.
That's almost good, meaning they didn't get the jumper. It also means none of them have the Ancient gene.
But it's also bad—they're clearly not examining all of this out of idle curiosity. I don't think they saved my life out of altruism either. Otherwise, they wouldn't have shot me.
Judging by the sounds, other people from this unknown enemy were ransacking the rooms I was planning to loot. I wonder how many of these bastards are here?
Besides being knocked out—and quite a while ago, since my chest doesn't hurt anymore—they tied me up and took everything they could take. Body armor, shin guards... At least they left my suit and boots.
But they took my weapon, scanner, and personal shield.
Well, shit, Lord.
This is the second time I've been convinced I should wear the shield switched on constantly. The idea of activating it at the last second turned out to be stillborn.
Oh well, now I need to understand what's happening here and if I can negotiate with these guys.
"Are you sure?" another voice continued. Slightly opening my right eye, through my eyelashes I could see two men talking to each other. The hope that at least one of them would turn out to be someone I knew failed. One was standing with his back to me; I was seeing the other for the first time. At least I didn't remember him from the series.
"More than," assured the owner of the first voice. "No microchips, no familiar wiring. Everything is made of glass or a similar material. This is definitely not the development level of the Ermen inhabitants. Look," through my half-closed eyelids, I saw him handing my personal shield to the other. "I'm sure this isn't a piece of jewelry."
"A more developed culture?"
"Yes. The green stone and the energy pistol confirm that."
"Has the woman said anything?" the shaved neck inquired. Mmm... A very specific shave—short, with an uneven edge. I'm starting to understand what's going on here a little better.
But it doesn't make me feel any better.
"She's keeping quiet," the first replied with disappointment. "We almost drowned her in a barrel, but she refuses to answer, even despite the beatings."
Oh, you bastards...
"Pull out her fingernails and break her bones," ordered the Shaved Neck. Looking closer, I saw my impulse blaster on his belt. Well, well, it looks like you don't know about the unslaughtered bear. Fine, just give me a chance to get my hands free...
"I understand, Commander. But perhaps we should send her to her home world and come back for the ship later?"
"Imagine the honors that await us if we bring back not only supplies from the Ermen warehouses but also this ship? How our authority will grow if we manage this without outside help?" asked the Shaved Neck. "We still have time. Get to work."
"Yes, Commander."
They were dressed the same as the two rummaging inside my ship. In some kind of uniform, but unfamiliar. Dark blue pants, untucked beige shirts, dark jackets with fur collars. No rank insignia, no chevrons. But the very fact that two were dressed identically leaves no hope—these aren't just marauders.
The thought that these were guys familiar with Jensen no longer seemed right either. Another soldier came out of the weapons cache, looking with interest at an anti-personnel mine similar to a Claymore or our MON-50 "Monkey." Oh, for fuck's sake, you piece of shit, why the hell are you pulling the pin, you idiot?!
"Don't touch that!" the one standing with his back to me roared at the soldier, covering the distance in one long stride and appearing next to the one who hadn't yet joined the ranks of contenders for the Darwin Award. "This is a directional anti-personnel mine! If you pull the pin, it will kill us all!"
"S-sorry, Commander!" the soldier began to stutter. The "Commander" snatched the dangerous toy from him, punched him straight in the jaw, and the proactive imbecile collapsed to the floor. "Get this idiot out of my sight!"
The owner of the first voice I'd heard hurriedly disappeared into one of the storerooms, practically dragging the young idiot by the hand.
The Shaved Neck turned to face me, allowing himself to be seen. It didn't take me long to recognize him.
"Stop wasting time," he said, looking at me. "We need to deal with everything as fast as possible."
Oh, fucking hell. This isn't just bad. This is "deep shit and nowhere to go" level.
No, he didn't notice I'd come to, because... he was looking somewhere behind me.
"Don't worry, Father," a female voice rang out from behind, accompanied by a kick to my kidneys. "I think I know who can help us."
* * *
Without any ceremony, they picked me up, punched me in the solar plexus (quite professionally, I must say), and then shoved me back-first against the wall. At the same time, a bolt being racked clicked.
"I've been waiting a long time for you to come to," the red-haired girl said, aiming a massive pistol at me with barely concealed irritation. "Start talking before I shoot you."
Clearing my throat, I looked at the girl, then at the man standing next to her. About twenty years between them, but... the resemblance is extremely superficial. To be precise, it's almost non-existent.
Red curls, a simple face with no marks of intelligence, average height... Nothing outstanding about her—front or back. Legs... Well, they're okay, a figure like a teenager's.
A little combat hamster. Look at her, she might start drooling any second.
"Lower your weapon," ordered the Shaved Neck, walking up to the girl. "I need him alive. For now."
"But he was unconscious for so long!" the girl protested. "We could have gotten what we wanted from him ages ago!"
"Three shotgun blasts could have killed him!" the Shaved Neck snapped. "I gave the order—shoot for the legs!"
"I waited like an idiot for him to come to..."
"Well, why 'like an idiot'," I smirked. "You could have just kissed me, whispered something sweet in my ear..."
The man reacted to the pistol's movement with a warning growl. The girl with the gun tried to put a look of fury on her face.
"I said, lower your weapon," the man said in a commanding tone. "Go to the woman and continue the interrogation. Varelon will be messing around with her for a long time."
"That's right, Sora," I dredged up the name of that rabid doll with the blank expression from my memory. "Do what Daddy says. Tyr, how are things?"
Both Genii, stunned by what they heard, exchanged glances.
"Father, I..."
"Go," Tyr forced out, signaling with his eyes for the two soldiers to take me out of the corridor.
Sora Tyr.
The girl, throwing a hateful glare at me, shoved the pistol into its holster and then walked towards the open storeroom. It was the one I'd taken the gear from. The one whose voice I'd heard first, Varelon I think, had gone in there too.
So Chaya is in there. Strange, I don't hear a single sound coming from there.
"I see your daughter isn't the favorite," I said as the soldiers, grabbing me by the arms, dragged me to the empty medical storeroom. Fucking bitches, they'd cleaned it out completely!
"What makes you say that?" Tyr inquired.
"You deliberately don't tell her that weapons need to be kept on safety?" I inquired. "Or is that the kind of treatment she gets because she's not your own?"
"What?!" They threw me to the floor, and Tyrus loomed over me, his face twisted with rage, barely restraining himself from shooting me. "Go on, repeat that lie you just told!"
Tyrus. A Genii.
"Easy, easy, Tyrus," I said, not taking my eyes off his hand holding the pistol. "You don't want to kill the only pilot of this ship in the whole galaxy."
"You're right," he hissed, returning the pistol to its holster. "But I'm not letting what you said slide."
For the next five minutes or so, he beat me like a punching bag. In reality, though... Well, I've got some experience, so I can say with authority — the thugs on Earth kick more professionally.
"Done?" I asked, feeling like I'd need a couple of new kidneys.
"Say it again, and I won't care..."
"You'd be better off not looking at me, but at the redheads around you," I said. "Believe me, a representative of a civilization with more genetics experience than the Genii — the red hair gene is incompatible with black hair like yours. It's dominant over light hair, but suppressed by black hair. And you, as I can see, don't look much like a redhead..."
That's actually complete nonsense. All I can say with certainty is that I have no idea what's dominant and what's recessive. But the key is to say it with confidence, to make him doubt.
"You're lying!"
"Is that all that concerns you?" I asked. "Not that I know both your names, not that you're family, not that despite your disguise, you're Genii."
"Yes, that concerns me too!" the Genii said after a moment's thought. "How do you know that?"
"Telepathy, my friend," I smirked when I saw the soldiers behind Tyrus exchange glances. "Not as strong as it could be with an amplifier, but..."
"He could have overheard it while he was pretending," one of the soldiers offered a sensible idea.
"Right, dimwit," I agreed. "And I can also say that you're pretending to be farmers on your home planet, living in an underground bunker, developing nuclear bombs that you hope to test on the Wraiths in about five years or so..."
Tyrus darkened, looking at me.
Clearly, none of that was something the soldiers could have told me. They're all too cautious here. Conspiracy, you see.
"Tyrus," I called the elder — apparently — Genii here in a whisper. "I'm not entirely sure, but... Can I talk about the spy network among the peoples of the galaxy and the data storage device you got from a downed Wraith 'Dart'? It's just, I don't know if the grunts are in on secrets like that. But there's a lot of interesting stuff in your head..."
Yes, the Genii have secrets like that too.
"I don't know who you are, but..."
"Oh," I feigned surprise. "You should take care of your scientists' safety. Working with radioactive materials without proper protection can be fun, of course. Especially when you start dying of cancer and glowing at night... But I think your commander is smart enough to figure out on his own not to trust the scientists that everything's fine. Remember how bad Radim's sister got it!"
Another Genii with the surname Radim came to mind because his sister was a scientist like him. In the known events, she, along with other scientists, received a serious dose of radiation, making her useless to the Genii. They used her in a suicide mission, so...
"Enough!" Tyrus barked. "You will answer my questions!"
Yeah... What a slow thinker. Not impressed, huh...
"Whatever you say," I shrugged. "Not a great start to our acquaintance. But we could cooperate. Who knows, maybe I'd help you work out the problems with separating uranium-235 from uranium-238 and finish the bombs..."
"We finished them ourselves," Tyrus smirked. "Using the Ermen archive on energy."
Son of a...
Think, think, think...
"Don't mistake wishful thinking for reality," I advised with a smile. "You've done well, found a place to scavenge from. But compared to my technologies, what the Ermen have is just an appetizer before the main course. You understand yourself — my ship is not from this world. And it outclasses everything here by a head."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Tyrus snorted. "They have a lot of interesting things. Including anti-radiation drugs that will help our scientists."
"Good for you," I shrugged. "Did they also have cloaking technology so the ship couldn't be detected on scanners or visually?"
The soldiers exchanged glances again. And a vertical furrow appeared between Tyrus's brows.
"Can their ships fly through the Gate?" I continued to stoke his interest. "Or do they have homing projectiles powerful enough to destroy a Wraith cruiser with a single shot?"
"You're lying." But the greedy fire in his eyes already spoke for itself.
"Well, check it out," I smirked, nodding toward the impulse blaster hanging on his belt. "You can judge the power of our technologies by what our pistol can do."
Ah, how I regretted lying to Alvar then, telling him it worked from the gene...
Tyrus glanced at the weapon.
"Don't be a coward," I encouraged. "Fire at the wall. But better not do it underground."
"Why?"
"Because the charge from the shot is such that it'll leave a five-meter-diameter hole in the wall. Any guesses what happens if you compromise the structure?"
"We'll test it later," he said, licking his lips. "Right now, you'll tell us how to start the ship and its weapons."
Looks like the guy's really lost his head. I know a bit about interrogating prisoners of war. So, Tyrus is asking completely the wrong questions. For a military man and an intelligence officer, definitely not the right ones.
But for a man trying to stand out in a militaristic society by obtaining more advanced technology... If he didn't lie and the Genii did finish their atomic bomb using the knowledge hidden here, then he clearly needs something bigger.
An invisible ship with drones looks a bit like that.
Just as I thought, playing on greed is the best approach.
"Sure thing," I agreed. "Oh, right, you won't be able to. The ship is linked to my genetic code. Without it, the key won't work."
"What key?" Tyrus perked up.
"It looks like an ornament the size of my index finger," I reported as innocently as possible. "It reacts to the DNA on the skin, then glows green and allows establishing mental contact between the person and the ship. A useful thing, by the way."
"Mental control?" Tyrus was taken aback. "By the power of the mind?!"
"Why are you so surprised," dammit, it hurts so much to smile when half your internal organs ache. I take back what I said — this bastard's blows only seem harmless at first glance. "Surely there's nothing like that on this little planet?"
"No," he confirmed. "All the stranger that you're helping us."
"And why not?" I asked. "I don't want to die here, so..."
"Your friend didn't tell us anything," Tyrus squinted.
"Her right," I said as indifferently as possible.
"And why would you help us?" Ah, the brain's starting to kick in. Bad.
"Who argues with people holding weapons?" I asked.
"How many ships like this do people like you have?" Well, shit, it turns out I'm the idiot, not him. He was lulling my vigilance to get me talking and get what he wanted. Effectively, the same thing I was doing.
"We're scouts," I said. "There are two of us. Maybe you've heard of the Lanteans? We're sometimes called the Ancients around here."
A look of understanding appeared on Tyrus's face.
"The Gate builders," he realized. "You were wiped out thousands of years ago by the Wraiths."
"Well, as you can see — not all of us," I pretended to be brave. "Some of ours went through the Gate to another galaxy. Waited, recovered. But when things got bad there too, we were sent here to scout a spot for a base. We found one of the old outposts, then started figuring out what's what. With few resources, we decided to explore planets. Here we found the depots, thought no one had a claim on them."
"You were mistaken," said Tyrus. "Ermen was once part of our interstellar confederation. We thought they were destroyed thousands of years ago, but recently we found traces that they had, in fact, survived. We came here so their legacy wouldn't be lost."
You son of a bitch... So that's why the mention of an interstellar state seemed familiar! It was the Genii! The damn sneaky bastards, the Genii! The scumbags who'll stop at nothing to bring the galaxy under their heel. And the creatures already have data from Ermen.
That's why Tyrus didn't buy my words about finishing the Genii-made atomic bomb! If they have documents from this planet, then deciphering the related language probably wasn't that simple. Ah... If I'm right, then... That's why the Hives aren't sleeping!
"You've already tested your nuclear bomb on the Wraiths," I said.
"Yes," he replied. "Unfortunately, we couldn't destroy the Hive, and our prototype fell into enemy hands. And they flew here, destroyed the entire population..."
That's why Jensen's people died — the Genii didn't detonate the bomb. Apparently their agents were exposed and...
Damn it, no, that's not it!
I felt a burning desire to spit in Tyrus's face.
Ermen was destroyed by a Hive that was already awake! And the Genii, according to Tyrus's recent words, came here after the planet was already destroyed. So how could they have finished the bomb with local knowledge before the Hive — which they awakened with that very bomb — flew here?!
Tyrus is blatantly lying.
"Sad news," I said.
"You didn't answer right away," Tyrus noted. "What were you thinking about?"
"About how long I was unconscious," a plan was already forming in my head. I just hope it works.
"Will they be looking for you?" the Genii became alert.
"No, there are only two of us," I shook my head. "A pair in the whole galaxy. But the problem is something else. The ship reports that a Wraith fleet is approaching the planet. A Hive and three cruisers. Half an hour and they'll be in orbit."
"Wraiths? What do they want on a dead planet?" Tyrus panicked.
"How should I know?" I asked. "Looks like you triggered one of their traps — they leave probes to monitor planets they've destroyed, to know if anyone comes after."
"Or maybe it was you! We didn't see any trace of Wraith technology!"
"Even a downed 'Dart' can act as an antenna," I said, remembering that Alvar had mentioned a battle for the planet. They couldn't have not shot down at least something. "Damn, that's why we flew under cloaking! I remember the wreckage of a 'Dart' on the outskirts of the city!"
"Tell everyone to pack up!" Tyrus ordered.
"We won't make it to the Gate in half an hour!" one of the soldiers panicked. "There's too much loot!"
The Genii commander looked at me.
"I think we have someone who can help."
"Of course!" I nodded.
Of course I'll help, you bastard. But there's a catch.
* * *
"Tychus, the medical supplies are loaded," said that same Varelon, sticking his head into the pilot cabin. "The observers say they don't see any 'Darts' or big ships..."
"Well, if their eyesight can spot objects forty kilometers away through the atmospheric cloud cover," I turned in my seat, flexing my untied hands, "then you've got some super-soldiers. Care to share the recipe?"
"Start the ship!" Sora, sitting in the seat behind me, pulled out her pistol again and aimed it at me.
"Gladly, sunshine," I said. "But there's no key. One of you pulled it out and didn't put it back."
"Stop flirting with my daughter," Tyrus ordered from the navigator's seat. "She's engaged!"
"Lucky guy!" I lied, watching the Genii pull bags stuffed with all sorts of things out of the storage compartments. Go on, guys, work. So far I'm managing to hold back activating the 'jumper' with a mental command. But where is Chaya? I don't see her.
The Genii girl snorted, and her father pulled a green crystal from the inside pocket of his jacket. Holding it out to me, he said, looking me straight in the eye:
"If you help us, my command will make sure you never want for anything for the rest of your life."
"Now that's what I call a constructive approach," I found smiling and playing the part of a willing collaborator frankly repulsive. Almost threw up a couple of times. But I had to hold on.
"If you deceive us, I'll put a fist-sized hole through you," the redheaded puppet assured me.
"Thanks, but I prefer the gratitude expressed by your father," I assured her, taking the crystal in my hands. "Will the others be joining us?"
Apart from a couple of soldiers in the rear compartment and the father and daughter, there was no one else here.
"Don't worry about them," the redheaded bitch assured me.
"The second squad is moving to the Gate over land," said Tyrus. "We'll get out of here first, then they'll go through the Gate after us. It'll be better for you if you help — your girlfriend will survive. I assume you know that before an attack, the Wraiths open the Gate to the planet under attack?"
"So we have some time," well, now everything's clear to me. "Closing the hatch, preparing for takeoff."
Chaya is with the second squad. Considering I didn't see them take her away, I think it was done deliberately to avoid angering me. And now I also know for sure that there's at least one more exit from the tunnels.
And I think Tyrus decided to sacrifice them to distract the Wraiths. He himself, along with his daughter and the loot, would wait it out under cloaking and then fly all the goods back to base. An invisible ship, medical supplies, and accolades. As for me, I'd have to tell them everything I know, and then disappear.
The Genii are a resourceful bunch. Apparently life in the underground taught them caution and logistics. The 'jumper's' lockers are stuffed to the brim with medical supplies. The bags in the pilot cabin are also full of canned food and leftover medicine. They placed several generators on the seats, then there were more bags, more bags, a couple of crates. There's not even room for the two of them to sit... Well, that's not a problem.
Attaching the shield to my jacket, I noticed it glowed with an even greenish light. Taking the controls, I noted that the protective field was working. Excellent.
"Well?" Tyrus forced out. "Turn on your ship! There's almost no time left."
"Everything that needs to be on is already on," I assured him, activating the 'jumper'.
The ship lurched forward at cruising speed. Barely ten meters. But then it stopped dead in its tracks.
For me, turning off the inertial dampeners had absolutely no effect — they're in the shield. But for the four Genii...
Tyrus, experiencing a G-force of ten gees, was first pressed into the navigator's seat, then flew forward. Same for his daughter. Except the father slammed into the instrument panel, while Sora slammed into my shield.
"What are you doing?" Tyrus wheezed as I grabbed him off the instrument panel. "The Wraiths..."
He didn't get to finish — I slammed his head into the cabin bulkhead. The unconscious Genii slid to the floor.
Then I walked over to Sora, who had managed to fire her pistol at me. With the lady, it went much easier — I broke her arm and hit her in the jaw, knocking her out just like her father.
"What the...?" The pair of Genii in the cargo bay had just scraped themselves off the ramp, but it didn't help them.
At that distance, it was impossible to miss their heads. The scanner showed me only three living beings within fifty meters: the father, the daughter, and myself.
Using the seat belts, I tied both bastards to the chairs, then searched them and took everything. Absolutely everything. For reliability, I tore the shoulder straps off the bags and tied both of them by the neck to the chairs, and bound their legs together. Better to kill them, of course.
But first I need to interrogate them. And time is running out.
Returning to the jumper's controls, I flew it outside.
Of course, there are no Wraiths. I just played on Tyrus's greed. Just like he played on my desire to survive. Except I went along with the deal out of desperation, and he did it for his own glory. A lot needs to be clarified — and these two will soon sing like birds. But first, I'll save Chaya.
* * *
"Move it," the brute pushed her in the back.
Chaya stepped over a piece of rubble, loosening her stiff shoulders with circular motions on the move. Everything hurt, of course; the beasts in human form hadn't spared her, trying to get information. But it was her shoulders and wrists she needed most right now.
Laden with backpacks of provisions, these people had spread out in two ranks of six each. Looking around, they kept tossing phrases to each other about the absence of Wraiths.
The Proculucian could only see out of one eye — the other was swollen shut from the beatings. These people probably didn't know that pain sensations could be turned off. Because otherwise, their stunned looks at how calmly she endured ripped-out fingernails would be indescribable. That particularly shocked the red-haired girl, who was trying to show herself as a ruthless soldier.
How many of these had she seen in her long life? Hundreds, if not thousands. Though none of them had that animalistic ferocity that was on this girl's face.
Finally, they crossed the square.
"Tyrus," the leader of this squad brought something resembling an archaic communication device to his face. "We're at the Gate. It's clear here, respond."
Only silence answered.
"Maybe they've already gone through?" one of the soldiers asked.
"No, he would have warned us," the commander was clearly worried. Apparently he feared the Wraiths.
Chaya closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. Even though her telepathic abilities were in their infancy, she didn't sense any Wraiths nearby. Of course, they could be hibernating, but... Then why fear them?
Her head began to ache, as it always did when using unnatural abilities. But who would wait for the Proculucian to naturally develop the necessary brain regions? It's easier and faster to stimulate it with genetic therapy.
"Hey, she's got a nosebleed," one of the soldiers reported.
Chaya opened her eye, looked at the commander, who was touching her face.
"She won't die," he declared confidently. "She'll hold out until the home planet, and then they'll either patch her up or liquidate her."
"I feel sorry for her," said the same soldier who'd mentioned the blood. "If they really are Ancients, they could be useful."
"That runt told us everything we needed to know," the commander cut him off. "But yes, I heard they could do everything by the power of thought. It's okay, if she's silent, they'll dissect her and all the secrets of their race will..."
The end of the phrase was drowned in the explosion.
A moment before, Chaya had heard the well-familiar sounds of cloaking disengaging and a homing projectile launching. The Proculucian, orienting herself, threw herself at that same caring soldier. The explosion and her actions caught him off guard, so he took a headbutt to the chest. Together they fell exactly where she had planned.
While the soldier screamed in pain, pierced by a piece of rebar in the heart area, the girl rolled aside. Glancing at him, she flinched: instead of falling and losing consciousness from a glancing temple-to-occiput blow, he seemed to have behaved differently than Chaya had predicted. And fell onto the rebar next to the spot where she was supposed to disarm him.
A couple of soldiers who rushed toward her were cut down by automatic fire that struck from the rubble nearest the Gate.
But that didn't interest her much.
The piece of sharpened metal she'd spotted was sharp enough to cut the semblance of shackles holding her. Peeking out from behind a pile of debris, she saw that the shuttle had landed across the passage to the Gate, and its ramp had lowered.
From there, ignoring the fire directed at him, came Mikhail. Though first he kicked a couple of bodies out of the ship. In his hands, a short automatic rifle clattered — the same kind as those held by her captors.
And with almost no misses, he killed those men. Under a hail of gunfire, he just walked up to their positions and killed them. And those who ran were torn apart by bursts from the cover positions.
Chaya could have used the effort of thought to identify the unexpected allies, but felt weak. Mental tricks didn't come easily to her — as with all the younger races. Something else would help her now.
"He...lp..." the caring soldier, dying from massive blood loss, addressed her with rapid breaths. One glance was enough for Chaya to understand — broken ribs, punctured liver, spleen, torn intestines, left lung pierced in two places. Even without being a medical specialist, Chaya knew this guy had almost no time left.
But it would be a painful death.
"Of course," she said softly, taking the man by the chin. Looking into his eyes, the Proculucian jerked his head to the side. There was a crunch of breaking cervical vertebrae.
Taking the weapon from the dead man, she fired almost without aiming at a Genii who ran up to her. The one following him met death from a bullet to the back of the head.
Mikhail, tossing aside his empty weapon, walked up to Chaya.
"Can you hold out until Atlantis?" he asked.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Sar assured him. "And you...?"
"You don't have to worry about the Genii anymore," Mikhail assured her, picking her up in his arms. Surprised by his action, since she could have walked on her own, the girl was even more surprised when she saw Teyla and Ivar next to the 'jumper's' hatch. Both people looked at her with concern, then Jensen said:
"We couldn't get into Atlantis. We thought you had trouble here. Got here about ten minutes ago. I saw their scouts, and we decided to lie low."
"And I found them at the Gate and was thinking of hitting them with a projectile," Mikhail sat her down on the edge of a seat in the cargo bay, stuffed to the brim with loot. Their two friends entered the now-cramped cargo bay of the 'jumper' and the rear hatch closed. "Good thing I decided to fly closer."
"Yeah, that would have been awkward," Jensen replied grimly, kicking the bodies of the people near the shuttle. "Don't look like looters..."
"If you want to chat, there's a couple waiting for you in the cabin," said Mikhail, rearranging some bags in the aisle to make room for Teyla. "Keep an eye on her."
The Athosian, sitting down opposite Chaya, took her hand. Mikhail and Jensen headed for the cabin.
"Everything will be fine," Teyla promised, looking into her eyes. "The main thing is, don't pass out."
Chaya looked at the Athosian in bewilderment but remained silent. Did she too not know that pain could be turned off by an effort of will? Though, judging by her stories about Athosian meditations, they should have at least guessed...
"I don't plan to," the Proculucian assured her, resting her head against the shuttle's metal. "I'm tougher than I look."
But she never made it to the moment of arrival at Atlantis.