"I'm not promising this will work," Ihaar said as we left the Council Chamber. "First of all, everything is based only on general phrases. I don't know how the Earthlings did it, but I suspect it was just a matter of swapping crystals. That won't work for us."
"Why?" I asked, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Kaspar Fry and Larrin were finishing their conversation by the activated gate. The man, calm and unruffled, said something in parting to the woman, then left Atlantis, stepping into the event horizon.
"Because manual replacement is very, very bad," the engineer explained. "It's much better to adapt part of the mechanisms to do the replacement programmatically. The projector racks have extra slots — I think we can install additional crystals there. And I can write the program fairly quickly while the ship is in hyperspace. But I have to warn you — exiting hyperspace will definitely show up on their scanners. We'll need time to switch. A second or two, but if we're close enough, they'll see us."
"The ship is in hibernation," Trebal reminded him. "They probably only have passive sensors running."
"I agree," Ihaar replied after thinking. "But what if we're wrong? I'd advise plotting a course that brings us out of hyperspace at the edge of active scanner range."
"We don't know the range of the Hive Ship's scanners," Chaya reminded him. "They could be stronger than on the cruisers."
"I'm not Ascended," Ihaar spread his hands. "I work with what we've got."
"Let's hope the backup plan for distracting the Wraiths won't be needed," Trebal sighed.
"I doubt that," I said, stopping on the main stair landing and looking at Larrin's expressionless face. "I think the Nomads refused to help us with their ships."
Chaya touched her communicator and quickly asked the duty technician about the negotiation results. Since communication with the Nomad ships happened from the control room and not through channels secret from us, Asan's and Labrea's answers should have been known to the staff.
"That's right," Chaya reported. "They want to join, but they're a day's travel from Ermen and five from the dead planet. Waiting for them is pointless — the damaged Hive Ship might have already left orbit by then."
"And even if it hasn't, in almost a week they'll have repaired their ship, and we'll face hundreds of awakened Wraiths," Trebal added.
"So we're relying only on ourselves," Kirik concluded. "I'll assemble the combat group. We're launching from the same trap planet?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "We have the dead world's coordinates. Alvar, how many darts do we have on the lab planet?"
"Six," he answered. "But only two have been modified for comfortable use by non-Wraiths."
"We only need one," I reminded him. "Alright, we work the plan. I'm heading to Taranis to pick up Ares. Ihaar, take everything you need and come with me."
"Hippaforalkus..." Trebal began.
"In reserve," I cut her off. "Ares will be enough to solve the problem decisively. You'll have some time to fix what we can on the starship. Once we've dealt with the damaged Hive Ship and gotten the information we need, we immediately move toward the Scavenger's location. Chaya, send all available technicians to Hippaforalkus. We need the old girl as battle-ready as possible in whatever time we have left."
"I've already recalled technical teams from all over the city, except those working on critical systems," the Proculucian woman said seriously.
"I'll contact our people on New Athos and bring everyone I can," Teyla assured me.
"The Jumpers will deliver all necessary equipment and weapons for the fighters to New Athos," I confirmed. "Once we're ready, we'll execute the final phase synchronously. Ihaar, we'll be waiting for you in Taranis orbit."
"Thirty minutes and I'm with you," the chief engineer assured me, heading toward the control station.
"Kirik," I looked at the former "Runner." "You're in command of the ground team until I join you."
"Will do," he promised.
A couple of seconds later, only I, Trebal, and Chaya remained on the landing.
"Dialing Taranis address," the duty technician announced. Larrin, burning me with her gaze, stepped aside from the arrival zone.
"I'll brief the technicians," the Dorandan woman assured me as she left. "And... be careful, alright?"
"Always," the woman leaned in and quickly kissed me. But the pressure, passion, and desire in that kiss showed that Trebal wasn't as calm as she wanted to appear. "Thank you. If this works... The Dorandans will be grateful to you for the rest of their reclaimed lives. And I'll do my best to make sure as few of them as possible refuse to join the new Atlantis."
It was strange that she didn't even try to make it provocative for Chaya.
Had they gotten used to each other, or had the enzyme really been pressuring her mind?
Following the Hippaforalkus commander with her eyes, Sar said:
"I'll add my voice to her request not to take unnecessary risks," she looked me straight in the eyes. "I understand why you're doing this... Half a Hive Ship's crew is a lot of donors for Koschei."
"We need people, Chaya," I said. "I can practically feel that soon we won't have the luxury of hiding who we are. If the Scavenger reaches the Lantian power source..."
"It's not a ZPM," Chaya reminded me. "It's just a powerful generator, nothing more. It won't give his Superhive even one percent of a ZPM's power. The four newest super-reactors on Ares don't develop that kind of power, and they contain colossal volumes of ultra-refined naquadah."
"And yet we don't know exactly what's in the ruins of the Ancient settlement on Talus," I shook my head. "Styx isn't scanning that planet top to bottom for nothing. Wraith scanners are worse than ours. And apparently, he doesn't know where to look for the energy source."
"You said even the Lantian scanners only detected an energy source on the planet in close proximity to it. That means it'll be even harder for the Wraiths."
"Unless they get help from someone who knows about the Second Childhood and the Talus Sanctuary. Then reaching the energy source would be fairly simple for the Wraiths. And we don't know for sure what kind of source was in the Sanctuary. Not a ZPM, but that's not certain. Even a powerful generator that's still functioning could help that bastard."
"Yes, that's possible," Chaya smiled nervously. "I believe we'll succeed. And I'll do everything I can to make sure of it."
"You're a smart one," I pulled the woman toward me and kissed her. After all, who was there to be shy about? We weren't a semi-military expedition with rules against relationships with colleagues, subordinates, and commanders. We were a paramilitary civilian society of Lantians. And the Lantians didn't have any special rules about that. And even if they did, I didn't care about them.
Besides, all of Atlantis already knew or suspected about our relationship, so I saw no point in hiding in corners like children. But there was also no need for exhibitionism.
The kawoosh erupted from the gate just as our lips parted. The woman pressed against me, then gently pulled back and headed for the control room.
"The hyper-tunnel to Taranis is established," the duty technician announced. He was standing on the balcony above the control room overlooking the arrival area, next to the guard. Both were pretending that the scene they'd witnessed hadn't happened. Or at least that it wasn't anything unusual for Atlantis. "The Taranis outpost received our recognition codes and sent their own. The transition is safe, the shield on that side is down. Safe travels, Mikhail."
I gave the technician a mock salute and approached the Stargate.
"I'm not going to kiss and hug you," Larrin declared, positioning herself to my right.
"I wasn't asking."
We stepped through the gate.
And three seconds later — which didn't exist for us in the real world — we emerged thousands of light-years away, stepping onto the white-stone paved platform around the Taranian Stargate.
"I really want to break something on you," Larrin informed me, looking at me.
Well... I think I understand why.
"The Nomads won't be able to participate in our attack, will they?" I asked. "But why do you want to beat me up?"
We walked along the cobblestones toward the main gate of the outpost.
"You negotiated with Asan behind my back," Larrin said. "And in doing so, you arranged for scout Fry to be the Nomads' representative in Atlantis. The link between my people and Ermen. You effectively took my role without asking me. Believe me, a broken nose for that kind of 'surprise' would have been a merciful expression of my anger."
"So that's what this is about," I nodded. "Can you figure out why I made that decision yourself, or do you want me to explain?"
"The latter," we entered the complex, passing a pair of Athosian guards. "Just don't lecture me like Chaya does."
"Fine," I shrugged as we walked down the corridor toward the dispatcher's office. "You can't serve two masters. The interests of the Nomads and Atlantis might not align in some areas. And I don't want to wonder if my person might make the wrong choice in a tense moment."
"Your person?" Larrin hissed through her teeth.
"What else are you, considering you entered Atlantis's service?" I asked. "You command our combat ship..."
"I pretend to command it," Larrin corrected. "Trebal commands hers and can mentally control it, while I and Ares... Our situation is like a couple that broke up, who hate each other and, when they meet, are ready to make bitter jokes about each other's mistakes. And only because one of them is stronger than the other, the meeting doesn't turn into a fight with teeth getting knocked out."
"Yes, there's a difference between you and Trebal, your command styles," I agreed. "But one way or another, you're the first face on Ares's bridge. And that ship operates in our interests. And by our will, it helps the Nomads. But not the other way around."
"It sounds like you're keeping me as a pet because it's convenient."
"It was necessary so the Nomads wouldn't feel like they're in Atlantis's service," I said. "One of them is in our service — not as a governess, but as the commander of the most powerful ship the Ancients ever built. That means a lot for our alliance with the Nomads. And the fact that you can't dictate your will to them... That's a side effect. You said you were ready to do anything to help your people. No one twisted your arm."
"And what would have happened if the genetic therapy hadn't worked?" Larrin asked. "It didn't work on my other people."
"I don't need the others," I said. "You were the face of the Nomads. The one who gave them a new place to live. Who ensured the flow of technology to Ermen. And you're angry for nothing. Yes, you're not the sole leader of your people on Ermen — Asan, Labrea, and a couple of others have formed something like a government. And yes, you have a place there. But you're in our service. And in that government, you represent Atlantis. Just like Kaspar represents the Nomads on Atlantis."
We were silent for about ten minutes. During that time, I checked in at the dispatcher's office, got confirmation that Ares was sufficiently functional and ready for flight, that its reactors were outputting maximum power, and also received comprehensive data on the number of munitions in the ship's arsenal.
The Aurora-class and Hippaforalkus-class ships each had a thousand munitions in their arsenals. The first and second generation of battleships differed insignificantly... But on ships of the Tria-class, representing the third generation, the arsenal consisted of three thousand Ancient homing projectiles.
Ares, unique in its class, had a stock of five thousand munitions. And yes, Atlantis required the same number for full equipping of each of its three launch platforms. Fifteen thousand homing projectiles — that was the size of the city's arsenal. I understand why the Lantians could easily destroy waves of Wraith fleets with that amount of ammunition.
If the arsenals are full, it's simply magnificent. Considering that destroying a Wraith ship doesn't require thousands, just a few dozen (if they all hit the target), a hundred at most (not for starships like a Superhive, of course), you could fight back for years.
Of course, that's when you can get projectiles in unlimited quantities.
We have big problems with that.
At the time Ares was discovered, it had just over three thousand projectiles — the battle it had participated in was very intense. But even that amount was enough for us to distribute between both battleships and the city, considering Hippaforalkus's needs and stocks. It had nearly three hundred projectiles too.
Both Hippaforalkus and Ares also had impulse cannons at their disposal, which were also significant weapons. Primarily, those should be used in battle. The projectiles were a last resort.
Because we had pathetically few of them.
Atlantis had no weapons at all except those. And until we find where to get more, the city is vulnerable. Moreover, the firepower of both the ships and the city didn't even depend on the number of projectiles and energy reserves.
But on the operator sitting in the control chair. The better they were, the stronger their Ancient gene, the more developed their brain — the more projectiles could be launched at a target and achieve results. Because controlling each one required a portion of their attention. The Dorandans, for example, couldn't even launch all twelve projectiles at once from a Jumper.
I could, but in theory. Testing my abilities with a limited amount of weaponry wasn't the best idea.
Although we were working on equipping the city with impulse cannons using the Dorandan weapons platform from the Arcturus project. But the process was long, immensely complex given the intervention in the city-ship's main power system, and painstaking.
"It would be simpler to tie everything to me," Larrin said when we were already on board Ares.
The ship's interior differed from that of Atlantis, Aurora, or Hippaforalkus. I'd even say the mentioned ones had a lot of similarity in their interiors. The same lighting solutions, for example. Many spotlights on walls, corners, ceilings...
On Ares, everything was different. Yes, they hadn't abandoned Lantian lights in the form of glowing crystals connected into a single vertical or horizontal panel, but the large lighting lamps in the corridors and rooms were delightfully pleasant.
At least because they were much more efficient. And that characteristic Lantian semi-darkness from point lighting fixtures wasn't in favor here.
Corridors of Ares
To me, Ares's interior reminded me more of what I'd seen in the series on the Asuran planet. Seemingly Lantian, but much more... grotesque, perhaps.
"You just wanted to be a big, important leader through your sacrifice, and in the end you became one of the rulers," I countered. "And that pisses you off."
"As does the fact that I know less about my own people's intentions than you do," Larrin confirmed. "I don't like being written off, Mikhail. And I don't like games being played behind my back that I don't appreciate."
"Try roleplaying," I suggested. "They've helped thousands, no, even millions of people on Earth find common ground and see the world from a different angle."
"I realize it's irony, but I don't fully grasp its essence," Larrin muttered. "Anyway, I don't like being a backup player. Not when I've given up everything to help people."
"I'm not the only one," I reminded her as we approached the doors to the bridge. "Asan and Labrea did, if not as much as you, then almost as much. And they also have the right to make decisions."
"Katana isn't one of the leaders," Larrin shook her head. "She's strong, strong-willed, but accommodating. Asan will just dominate her. Like most of the new government."
"Funny that you wanted to do the same thing," I chuckled as we entered the bridge.
Some Ancients from the deck crew of the Aurora had been part of the Ares's crew for a long time, so, informed that we were about to take off, they were already conducting pre-flight checks.
"Control, this is Ares," one of the technicians touched the comm panel. "We are ready to take off. Clear personnel from the launch zone."
"Hangar is clear, security systems activated, doors closed," came from the control room.
"Open the hangar, disconnect external power, and be ready to disengage magnetic anchors when we launch," I ordered.
"Ares, instructions received," came from the intercom. "Two-minute readiness. Hangar roof opening, external power disengaged, magnetic anchors disengaging per protocol."
Starships weren't just docked on a specially equipped pad and landing struts. Their hulls, to avoid unforeseen circumstances, rested in magnetic clamps controlled from the outpost's control room.
And external power... That's a very good thing — it conserves reactor resources by getting energy from the geothermal generator during repairs and layovers.
Too bad we can't power the Hippaforalkus that way for its modernization. We'd sooner cause a supervolcano eruption than manage to use the modernization plans using the Armchair and Taranis's geothermal energy.
It's a shame we don't live in a fairy tale.
"We haven't finished this conversation, Mikhail," Larrin said stubbornly when I climbed into the command Armchair.
"You can aim your 'Frequency Gun' at me like last time, but it won't change the facts," I assured her. "You're one of us. And essentially, the longer you serve Atlantis, the more your people will start asking, 'Has their leader defected?' That happened with Teyla and led to a societal split. We learned from the past. I don't think you'd be happy if the Nomads you saved started dividing into camps. You have a united society, a government you're part of. Your role is clearly defined. And no one will say you're working for Atlantis's interests at the expense of the Nomads. Because there's a government that can challenge your initiative, your decision. There's Kaspar, who not only conveys the government's words but also hears you at our meetings. He knows what you ask for your people. And the Nomads see that almost everything you ask for, they get. And they don't brand you a traitor; they see you as a thread that connects us all. So answer me, Larrin. What exactly pisses you off — that you're one of us, or that you're not the sole leader of the Nomads?"
"You piss me off," the girl said without hesitation. "I'm not a puppet whose decisions can be made for me. If you wanted to help me and the Nomads this way, you should have warned me and gotten my consent."
"We don't have a democracy, Larrin," I reminded her, turning my Armchair so we could see each other's faces. "You're one of the leaders of the Nomads, but that's on Ermen. For Atlantis, you're the commander of the Ares appointed by me. If you want to change this, if you don't want to serve me, you should talk to your people. I'll gladly relieve you of that burden. But in exchange for everything we've given you for your service. That's the final decision and it's not subject to appeal. You need to decide now."
"You know I won't refuse help for my people," Larrin darkened.
"I know," I agreed. "That's why I worded the condition that way. So? Bury the hatchet and continue working? Or do you want to step off before we take off?"
"I'm with you," Larrin snapped, approaching the control panel and pressing a few buttons. "And yes, for the future. If I'm commanding the Ares, don't interfere with negotiations with control."
"I could give up the Armchair," I smirked, leaning back and closing my eyes. "Starting secondary generators. Inertia dampeners activated. Main power plant startup and engine warm-up initiated. We're ready to take off."