When the doors of the Council Chamber rotated to let Trebal and Mikhail in, Chaya understood almost immediately that the two were continuing a conversation they'd started earlier. And an unpleasant one for at least one of them.
"Don't even ask!" Trebal was practically boiling with rage. "The fact that I did it once, and even then only because of the circumstances... It's not happening again! It's beyond me!"
"You did quite well," Mikhail said, taking his seat at the head of the table, looking at the Dorandan with the gaze of a man wrapping his demand in the lacework of a request.
"It won't happen again! And don't ask!" Trebal cut him off.
"So what now?" Mikhail asked. "Should I ask Chaya to help me solve this problem? Or maybe Larrin? Well, let's make it Fren, or even Seliza? They have no experience at all, but you're sure someone could do it better than you?"
"I'm not doing it again! It's... It's filthy!"
"You were the one who suggested it!"
"I didn't think it would be so... disgusting and humiliating!"
"Oh, don't exaggerate! Nothing you haven't done before!"
The Proculucian leaned forward, propping her head on her hand, shifting her gaze from one person to the other with interest. How interesting... Such familiar names being mentioned. And the context.
"Do we have a problem?" she inquired.
"No," Mikhail answered.
"Yes!" Trebal practically shouted, jabbing a finger at the head of their tiny faction. "He's a merciless sadist! Once was enough to make me feel dishonored, pathetic, humiliated! And he wants it to be a regular thing! 'There's no one else!'" she mimicked the Earthling from a parallel universe.
"You're the best at it!"
"You haven't tried anyone else!"
"So many questions and no answers," Chaya nodded understandingly, lowering her eyes. "Don't think this offends me in any way, but... We're talking about coitus, aren't we?"
The arguers froze, turning their heads to her in unison. And then, as if on command, they both grimaced and recoiled from her, as if she had suddenly started to smell like a miner who hadn't showered in three days.
"Chaya, just, 'ew'!" Mikhail said.
"Is your head even screwed on right?" Trebal chimed in.
Chaya felt embarrassed.
"It was just the context..." she began to explain, then, pulling herself together, took a deep breath and let it out, putting all the negativity and discomfort she felt into that last action. "So, what is this actually about?"
"I will NOT pilot the Ares!" Trebal snarled. "I landed it in the hangar, and in that time, in one hour, just ONE hour of contact with its onboard computer, I felt like a primitive man who decided to use a spaceship. I have NEVER been so humiliated! A ship! Oraii take my kin, a damn ship treated me so condescendingly, like it was doing me a favor! It got into my head, instantly realized I wasn't Lantean, and then downgraded our interaction to the level of an ordinary command chair! Chaya, do you understand? It considered me beneath its metal dignity to even communicate with me! And I'm half-Lantean! That arrogant piece of scrap metal!"
"I understand your pain and resentment..." Sar began, but Trebal wasn't calmed down.
"You understand, do you? Go on, get in its chair, establish a mental link! You'll immediately feel spat on, naked, dragged through the mud, humiliated, and made a fool of! And that's just in the first couple of milliseconds!"
"A warship offended and humiliated Trebal," Chaya stated, not believing her own words.
"I'm never setting foot in that thing again!" the Dorandan cut her off. "Get your space junk out of the hangar, I'll land the Hippaforalkus, fix it, and fly a ship that doesn't hate me!"
"You're exaggerating," Mikhail winced. "It doesn't have consciousness, no artificial personality. It's just... Not like your ship."
"That thing is a bigger bitch than I am!" Trebal blurted out. "And that's impossible! Or, a supermassive absolute-class black hole just opened up somewhere in the center of the universe and is starting to digest galaxies!"
"I don't even know what to say," Chaya murmured, looking at Mikhail. "Are you sure it's not an artificial intelligence?"
"Completely," Mikhail nodded. "Just more advanced programming. More advanced than anything I've ever encountered. No consciousness, no self-awareness or anything like that. It's just a warship built by the Lanteans as an experimental platform. Nothing more. It's not much different from the third generation. And I think everything Trebal is saying is just her perception and a colossal exaggeration."
An indignant snort came from Trebal's direction.
And it coincided perfectly with the Council Chamber doors opening to let two more people in.
"What's she doing here?" Trebal grimaced, pointing at Larrin. The Nomad, chuckling, sat down at the table on its left wing under the Dorandan's heavy glare, leaving Ihaar no choice but to take a seat next to the enraged Trebal.
Sar watched as the commander of the Hippaforalkus rolled her eyes, turned away from the Nomad, and noted a victorious smile on the latter's face. Without saying a word, she had managed to silence Trebal.
And with a look of perfect indifference, as if nothing at all had happened, the Nomad looked at Mikhail.
Larrin.
"Let's say the form of the question is a bit crude, but that doesn't negate the essence of it," Mikhail said, meeting Larrin's gaze. "I don't recall inviting you here after the medical procedures."
"I ran into your scientist," she nodded towards Ihaar. "And had a few words with him. Then I decided to drop by and say thanks that your medic managed to save my people's lives. We appreciate it. As we appreciate you keeping the agreement and handing the planet over to us. And, besides that, I spoke with Asan before he left. According to him, Katana has already reached the place where Salumai used to be and showed your cyborg the big and small wreckage. In a few days they'll be back on Ermen. Oh, and... Thanks a lot for repairing our ships too. And for your honesty regarding our new home."
Chaya turned her head, looking at the Nomad, who was sitting in her chair, spinning around in it every now and then, as if it were amusing.
What was reassuring was that the Swift really had proven to be fast. Today was exactly the tenth day that Saya had set as the term for their temporary cooperation. Given that both the Ares and the Hippaforalkus were damaged and not ready for flight, and that there were no other ways to get to the cyborg's homeland, Mikhail's decision to send a technical team to get at least one of the Nomad's ships into working order was unavoidable. Saya had indeed proven herself an extremely effective member of the combat squad. Fast, deadly, dangerous. The ease with which she had swept through the corridors and compartments of the Ares after the jump from the system full of Nomads proved that all those modifications hadn't been in vain.
After she returned, Chaya would add new programming to her augments to make her a little more autonomous. An initiative-taking, tactically sound soldier on the battlefield was better than a strong one who constantly needed orders.
Honestly, though, Chaya disagreed with Mikhail on the issue of him handing over the abandoned Ermen to the Nomads. But at the same time, she understood that neither Athos, nor New Athos, nor Taranis, nor Dorandan, nor Epheon, nor especially the planets of the Lantean system, were suitable for such a 'sacrifice.'
Alvar, as the last representative of his race, reacted stoically to this exchange. "If it has to be — then let it be," he said. Especially since the transfer of Ermen hadn't followed the original terms.
In fact, the Ares had been handed over to Atlantis not by Larrin, nor by Captain Asan — the Lanteans had taken it themselves. With the support of the aforementioned individuals. Therefore, no unconditional fulfillment of the previous agreements was provided for.
Athos and New Athos were unsuitable for the Nomads for at least the reason that the planets belonged to Teyla's countrymen. On the first, the dismantling of the equipment and the Ancient outpost was underway; after some time, the geothermal generator would be removed from the supervolcano's depths and the planet could be abandoned, taking the necessary safety precautions. No one wanted to trigger an eruption.
But such valuable equipment as the outpost and the geothermal generator didn't just lie around on the road.
No one was going to argue with the Athosian leaders, who were increasingly going against Teyla's position. One part of the Athosians intended to return to Athos and cut off contact with Atlantis. After all, they had believed in the Ascended beings' sent dreams that the current inhabitants of Atlantis were "not the right Lanteans." Well, fine. Many residents remained on New Athos who intended to continue interacting with Atlantis. A "division of property" was currently underway, as those returning to Athos didn't intend to leave empty-handed.
Mikhail ordered them not to get involved in that "swamp," but forbidding Teyla from participating in something like that would have been foolish. Alvar joined her, since for the most part, what the "disgruntled" wanted to take back to Athos belonged to Ermen and had not been given as gifts by Atlantis. At least, Teyla and Alvar intended to prove just that.
Letting the Atlantis-loyal Nomads onto Epheon was a bad idea. Spaceships could be tracked, and there was still plenty of Epheons legacy left on the planet. Keras, the leader of the local tribes, while thrilled that the Lanteans were asking his advice on such matters, voiced the general decision of the people living in the villages: they didn't want to see strangers on their planet. At least because then they would have had to settle them within the electromagnetic field for safety, which wouldn't have suited Atlantis. Allowing the Nomads access to such technology wasn't in Mikhail's plans. At least not in the near future.
Taranis... Things were complicated there too. Norina Pyro and her people were quite welcoming and occupied a modest portion of the territories for their development. The Nomads could have settled on another continent or even on the islands. After all, after the civil war and their return through the gate, there were just over seven thousand on Larrin's side. Some chose to get far away from the "rebels," making contact with Nomad scouts and returning to the fleet's ships.
Well, that was their choice.
Taranis was an outpost and the only dry dock Atlantis had, where ship repairs could be carried out easily and conveniently with large reserves of raw material on hand. Besides, at the moment, the Wraith didn't know about this planet. And it would be better to draw as little attention to it as possible. In case of a siege and the need to raise a shield protecting the entire planet, the only way to evacuate to a safe place would be the Stargate. And it would be better if only the Taranians had to be rescued, whose numbers were significantly smaller than the Nomads'.
Dorandan was out of the question by itself. And not just because Trebal had categorically protested. As the highest-ranking Dorandan among all the survivors, she had the right to do so. The fact that the planet was in ruins and uncomfortable for living also influenced the decision. But what mostly interested everyone was the security of the Project Arcturus platform. As well as the numerous Dorandan technologies compatible with Lantean technology. And all of this had to be dug out from under the ruins.
Proculus, despite its size and habitable living space, was ruled out immediately. The planet had been a "dead end" for defending the gate of the existing coalition of planets under Atlantis's flag for too long to settle people there. Especially since they couldn't leave without a dialing device, and one wasn't included with the space gate that had been moved to the planet.
The planet where the Wraith had conducted experiments on "improving the taste of humans" was out of the question by itself. Not only because, like on Proculus, there was no dialing device. But also because work was underway to extract Naquadah, and there was a Wraith laboratory that could be useful.
Lantea and Lantea-2 were ruled out, because in case of a Wraith attack, they would have had to either evacuate the Nomads from the Lantea continent or transport them by ship from Lantea-2. In the best case, to save their lives, they would have had to load combat ships with people and evacuate them somewhere far away, depriving Atlantis of additional defense. In the worst case, they would have had to transport them to the city in jumpers and move them through the gate. Neither option suited any of Atlantis's inhabitants. And Mikhail (and Chaya and Trebal) flatly refused to allow such a number of people, whose loyalty was highly questionable, to live in Atlantis.
Searching for new planets the Wraith had never visited would take too long, and a solution was needed right now. Ermen was the obvious and temporary solution.
The Wraith, when they cleansed a planet down to its foundations, didn't return there without a good reason. And they still hadn't returned. The planet's gate was provided with protection, but not the kind Atlantis had used. But now, entering Ermen was only possible if the Nomads guarding the gate received a valid identification signal.
Mikhail called this new principle of gate defense the "Iris." According to him, in the events he knew about, this was how Earth protected its Stargate from unwanted intrusions.
Earth Stargate Iris (closed state).
The Iris was a set of overlapping metal plates, operating on the principle of a "multi-leaf camera shutter." At least, that was the description Mikhail gave.
In its closed state, the Iris formed a barrier less than three micrometers from the event horizon of the wormhole, thereby preventing the proper reintegration of most forms of matter. Objects passing through the wormhole were instead destroyed, accompanied by a ringing clang against the Iris. However, radio signals could penetrate, allowing those on the planet to be properly notified that the hyper-tunnel was opened by non-hostiles.
When Mikhail described his idea as a simple and energy-efficient way to protect the gate, Chaya, honestly speaking, was at a loss. And slightly in awe. The fact that this defense was thought up by Earthlings, and at the very beginning of their Stargate program, did them credit.
At least because, in practice, it seems simple. But only seems so. Okay, let's assume that developing a drive mechanism that would close the gate after the kawoosh formed when establishing a hyper-tunnel was fairly easy. Elementary. But the distance from the event horizon's surface at which the Iris was placed...
The people creating this device hadn't been to Atlantis yet. And hadn't encountered the shield technology protecting the local gate. To determine the distance from the event horizon of three micrometers required some serious effort. Either a lot of practical experiments, or a colossal amount of theoretical work. Because only at that distance from the event horizon did matter passing through the hyper-tunnel interact with the rematerialization systems and, upon exit, return the object from an energy state to a physical one.
But having a barrier at that distance, be it a shield or a mechanical iris, prevented the full materialization of the object. Effectively, the item would begin to reconstitute but wouldn't acquire a form... Instead, it would simply disintegrate against the gate's defense. Easily and effortlessly removing the threat of a potential breakthrough from the other side.
And enemy soldiers coming through were only a small problem. An explosive device or a stun bomb that could take out the control room and its crew could also be sent through the gate.
Not to mention that an energy shield could, in fact, be hacked. It wasn't easy, but it was possible.
So, it was no wonder the idea interested her. You couldn't hide behind rerouting forever. After all, it was a very crude interference in the Stargate system's operation. And in the long term, it could lead to unpredictable consequences.
Mikhail had already told her that her program, uploaded onto the Ares's systems, had been perceived by the onboard computer as hostile. Moreover, it had affected all the ship's systems, interfering with their normal operation.
And all because it had been developed based on data from the Hippaforalkus's systems. The Ares had been programmed much later, was more complex, and the "backdoors" in its software, which the program was supposed to exploit, turned out to be not so accessible.
In short, they had been walking on a knife's edge. And they didn't want to keep doing that. A mechanical defense, and as simple as possible, with a minimum of programming, should be effective enough.
And Ermen, the Nomads, were more suitable than anyone else for field testing, to "shake down" the technology, correct any errors, and create a more advanced model.
"I think you'll be interested to know that our people have inspected the mines you left behind," Larrin said. "You were working them, weren't you? Judging by the poor quality of the extraction, unskilled workers did it. Most likely Athosians. What they did in the mines is threatening a cave-in."
"You're lucky Teyla isn't here," Trebal snorted. "She might have taken serious offense at you calling her people incompetent."
"I'm just stating facts," Larrin cut her off. "My people have worked on planets with abandoned mines many times before, and we have the relevant knowledge, skills, and some equipment. As I understand it, you abandoned the mines because the planet seemed unsafe to you due to the possible return of the Wraith. Or the Genii."
"It sounds like you want to propose a new deal," Mikhail said.
"Yes, that would be good," Larrin confirmed. "My people are currently forced to live in the remnants of the dungeons the Ermens built. It's not very comfortable, and we have big problems with food. Feeding and providing for an entire people isn't so easy."
"Get to the point," Chaya asked.
"You offered Asan help in setting up our ships' systems," she said.
"And we've already given you the blueprints for improving the life support systems, and we'll soon manufacture and supply you with the necessary parts for the hull repairs," Mikhail reminded her. "What else? There's a limit to requests."
"I'm not asking you to rework our ships to your level, if that's what scares you," Larrin smirked. "But your engineer said our reactors are our biggest problem." She looked at Ihaar again. Actually, everyone looked at Ihaar. "I'd like to fix that."
"Ihaar?" I inquired.
"I only said that only a psycho would put such a fragile structure as their fusion reactors on a military starship," he winced. "You saw yourselves what the Ares did to their ships. Trebal was shooting at the engines, but even then, their reactors had to be shut down, emergency cooled, and so on. Their ships are held together by spot welds and prayer! Of course it upset me! Such an approach to technology offends my engineering sensibilities!"
"Such a sensitive one you have," Larrin chuckled. "And talkative, naive little..."
"One more word in that tone about my comrades, and you'll need a dentist, an orthopedist, and a neurosurgeon," Trebal said in a threatening tone. The girls locked eyes, and this time it wasn't the Dorandan who backed down.
"No offense," the Nomad threw at the engineer and immediately shifted her gaze to Mikhail. "So, we can make a new deal. We give you the metals you needed on Ermen. And you help us secure our ships' power systems. However, I think you need a lot of materials, constantly, so it would be wrong to talk about specific quantities. But," she smiled smugly, "we can supply you, and you, in return, can keep helping us improve our ships. Nothing from the high-end technologies you use, but good analogs, accessible for our understanding and use, would be useful."
Mikhail seemed to think it over.
Well, whatever decision he made, Chaya had to make a few clarifications.
"You don't use solid fuel reactors," Sar said. "And your power consumers are less demanding than those needed to use, for example, our generators."
"A few captains tried to build reactors using the radioactive material we found on Salumai," Larrin said. "And the mineral you call Naquadah, we also found on some dead planets. Apparently, you know how to handle it. We don't. But I don't think it would be too much trouble for you to create a suitable generator for us using that material. Considering," she gave a strained smile, looking at Sar, "our low energy needs."
"Not bad," Mikhail said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sure the next technology you'll ask us to adapt for you will be engines, shields, weapons, navigation, and so on, until a couple of your starships are completely modernized."
"We have no choice," Larrin became serious. "We've split from our people and, in fact, become, if not their enemies and number one targets, then certainly not their brothers in blood and arms. Neither the Swift nor the Endurance would survive a battle against a couple of Nomad ships. And I'm not even talking about the Wraith. And it's these ships and their crews that will be tasked with bringing you everything you need from other planets. You're not going to send your two battleships to the galaxy's outskirts for some ore. And it will take time before we clear and secure the mines. And you need materials, as I understand it."
"What makes you think that?" Trebal asked.
"The fact that one of your ships is clearly weaker than the other," Larrin said. "The Ares only needed a couple of shots from its pulse cannons to destroy a Nomad ship. And your battleship was hitting them with almost its whole broadside. I suspect that the ship that came into your possession thanks to us is newer, better, and stronger. And you can clearly make the second battleship just as powerful. But you'll definitely need energy. And that means Naquadah. And we can give you a lot of it. At least more than you have now."
"You think we don't have enough," Chaya corrected her, realizing she was playing a very subtle game of disinformation. "However, we have enough for our needs."
"Well, if you say so," Larrin smirked. "Though, I won't believe you. There's never too much energy resources. Usually, they're stockpiled. And we know that better than anyone."
"Maybe so," Mikhail joined the conversation. "But tell me, Larrin. How fast will your former friends discover that your ships are showing up at the common resource extraction sites? In how many days will an ambush be set up?"
The Nomad stopped smiling. Not that this news was something unexpected for her. She had apparently understood it from the start.
She was just going for a little deception.
And she wasn't the only one.
"The only relatively safe place where your people and your ships can stay is Ermen," Mikhail continued. "Until you fix the damage and get the starships in order, you shouldn't stick your heads out into space. And you know it. If there were another way to get recommendations on improving your fusion reactors, you wouldn't have offered your ship for the flight to Salumai. And you know perfectly well that your people have developed spy satellite technology. So they'll track you down, come to Ermen, and it won't be good."
"Unless the Council sees that your ships have become better," Trebal said. "And the first thing they'll think is that you have Lantean technology on board and it's not worth messing with you."
"That's why you mentioned the resource planets known to the Nomads," Chaya added. "To first get the upgrades, then show them off to the other Nomads, and either make them wary of you, or — make them join you."
"Treacherous bitch," Trebal said, in a tone somewhere between condemnation and admiration.
"Sensed a kindred spirit?" Larrin snapped. "No, don't get your hopes up. I know for a fact that I'm an only child. You don't look anything like a long-lost sister."
"What about a great-great-great-great-and-many-greats grandmother?" Mikhail asked, drawing smiles from everyone present, even Trebal.
"Caught me," Larrin sighed. "The plan wasn't bad, of course. But if it was figured out that quickly, it wasn't good enough. Let's take the straightforward approach. How can we help you? And what will you give in return for our help."
Larrin's tone changed. From its usual mocking and provocative to a level one, tinged with a pleading note so unlike her.
"Is the situation really that desperate?" Mikhail asked.
"We have a few days' worth of food left, maybe a week, and that's on reduced rations," Larrin said without beating around the bush. "We sent people to buy supplies from trusted vendors, but it's a drop in the ocean. Before, each ship took care of its own passengers and crew, but we've lost many ships and many supplies, and those people have no one left to ask for help. We're not farmers who can plow fields, and we have no seeds either."
"Not to mention it'll be a long time before you get a harvest," Trebal said, surprisingly without bile. "Did you contact the Athosians?"
"We bought everything they had for sale," Larrin nodded. "And it cost us all the valuables we had left after the battle. Two battered ships, a horde of hungry and angry people, and some weapons and tools—that's all I have. I'm open to suggestions, Mikhail." She looked at the Lantian leader, but there was nothing flirtatious in her eyes, voice, or demeanor. It could be taken as a plea for help. However, Chaya understood, looking at this woman, that she wouldn't stoop to begging. More likely, she'd just draw her own conclusions and start solving problems with whatever means she had, losing people, influence, and patience in the process. "Tell me how I and my people can help you. What would make you happy?"
This was a very bad scenario. At the very least because she knew more than Chaya would have preferred to entrust to her.
And the fact that she was ready to negotiate on Atlantis's terms meant she was almost in despair. She just didn't let others see it, afraid of being used and then discarded.
"We'll help," Mikhail said after a moment's thought. "Chaya, check our supplies and see what food we can share."
"Of course."
"Thank you," Larrin replied seriously. "But this isn't a housewarming gift, is it?"
"No," Misha confirmed. "You can do something to make me feel happy."
"I hope he's not hinting at what I think he's hinting at," a reckless thought flashed through Chaya's mind.
She didn't like the meaningful smiles Misha and Larrin exchanged.