"Besides a number of building mixtures and the reinforced vein located at a certain depth of each floor, Concrete-811 also contains depleted naquadah. It's inert, doesn't emit radiation, but remains an extremely strong substance of incredible durability. And density. It provides the relatively thin walls of the towers, the floors, as well as airtightness and lack of porosity..."
Chaya stared at the ceiling, her hands behind her head, listing the properties of the objects she saw before her. Sometimes she drifted off into counting atomic nuclei and the physical properties of subatomic particles, but it didn't affect the way she was killing time.
"Depleted uranium is also used in its pure form for building a number of energy-conducting structures," she continued. "For example, this cell is built from depleted naquadah. Because of its energy-conductivity properties, the bars of the prison cube transmit the energy of the protective screen. From the outside it only looks like there's an emitter between each pair of bars, but that's not actually the case. That kind of approach would be extremely excessive and too technologically costly to manufacture..."
From a slight breeze passing through the force fields, the girl realized that the entrance door to this brig cell had opened.
"I see you haven't been bored," declared the man who appeared in the doorway. But his stern face was the instant reason the smile vanished from Chaya's face. "Talked enough?"
In the adjacent cell, a shadow with long snow-white hair burst from the corner. It lunged directly at the energy barrier.
Perfectly aware of what would happen, the prisoner still tried to shove his hand through the bars of the prison.
And he got a completely well-deserved electric shock.
The Wraith rushed at Mikhail.
"Let me out, Mikhail," Koschei said, his voice a mix of threat and pleading. "I beg you by everything you hold sacred. Put me back in solitary confinement or kill me. I can't stay near her any longer than this."
"Trebal knows how to inflict pain on sentient beings," Mikhail said. "Koschei, do you think you have the strength to revive a couple more people?"
"I have enough for three," the Wraith assured. "I'll give all my energy, every last drop. I'm ready to die of hunger, to feel my organs shrivel up, draining energy from each other. I'm ready for the most terrible death you can devise for me, Mikhail. Please, do it. Kill me, disintegrate me, throw me into space, cut me into pieces, burn me, drown me — do anything, but get me out of this cell."
"All right, all right," Mikhail raised his hands to shoulder level. "You've convinced me. You'll revive three — good job. Kirik," the man walking behind him jangled the chains he'd brought with a smirk. "Escort our friend to the revivees, let him take care of the next group."
"Of course," the moment the Wraith's cell door swung open, he instantly caught and began fastening the chains on himself. "Koschei, don't rush so much..."
"I need to leave this place as fast as possible," the Wraith growled. "Before Mikhail changes his mind. Or before the Queen-Smart opens her mouth again. Lead me, human, I'm ready to give life to your people!"
When the pair — the former "Runner" and the Wraith — had left this section of the brig, Mikhail stood next to the control panel that operated the door to Chaya's cell. A few presses on the right symbols — and the energy screen around the bars disappeared, and the cell door slid aside.
"And you're cruel," Mikhail entered the cell and sat on the floor, leaning his back against one of the support posts. Chaya, smoothing her dress, sat across from him. The only difference between them was that the girl was sitting on a thin but warm mattress. "That guy almost went insane from being next to you through a wall."
"I just told him the unified field theory."
"And that's it?"
"A little about subatomic particles."
"Really, why would he react like that."
"About the depletion of uranium, thorium, cesium, plutonium, and another hundred and twenty metals," Chaya added. "And about Concrete-811."
"Right, the concrete — that was probably too much."
"I kept it general," Chaya admitted with a guilty smile.
"Went easy on him?"
"I couldn't remember the chemical formula."
"It's like the Ascended themselves intervened and saved that guy's brain from the blender you put him through!" Mikhail exclaimed.
"Sorry," Chaya spread her hands. "I thought I knew him... But it turned out I only knew up to element one hundred and seventy-two..."
"About the composition of Concrete-811?"
"Yes."
"And how many elements are involved there?"
"Chemical or construction?"
"A loaded question," Mikhail wagged his finger. "There are clearly fewer chemical ones. Tell me about the construction ones."
"Two hundred and seven."
"Ah... I know I'll regret this, but still... How many chemical ones?"
"Five hundred and eleven. Including repeats. Oh," Chaya raised a finger in the air. "I remembered number one hundred and seventy-two. Fermat. Then aviolite..."
"God," Mikhail shook his head. "Woman, stop, I came in peace."
"Sorry," the girl bit her lip awkwardly. "It's just my first time in prison. I don't know all the rules..."
Mikhail looked at the cell next to Chaya's. Actually, they were solitary cells — one cell per section. But there were a few paired ones. No one had ever suspected what reason they might be made that way... until now.
"Do you realize that on your first day in prison, you nearly drove your cellmate to suicide?"
"No one explained the rules of being in prison to me," Chaya repeated. "Trebal said I needed to clear my head and shoved me in here. Then they brought in Koschei. He's not much of a conversationalist — I would have preferred to talk to Alabaster. She and I have more in common. She studied hyperdimensional physics... Sorry," the girl drooped. "Actually, I at least owe an apology."
"You know, it would be funny if it weren't so sad," Mikhail admitted. "We've been on Atlantis for six months and haven't found a single suitable ZPM for the city. Besides the one that was on Proculus. And then you, after sitting at a computer and rattling the cockroaches in your head, fly to a planet on the ve-e-ery edge of the Pegasus Galaxy and come back with a Wraith Queen who's ready to jump out of her Iratus beetle genes just to prove she's not like everyone else. And that's not even mentioning the Wraith child, the ZPM, and some weird Ancient gizmo made of such pure naquadah that Ihaar is drooling to use it as a core for a super-reactor for the Hippaforalkus! What do you have to say in your defense?"
"I didn't blow up any planets," Chaya said quietly and a little plaintively. "Does that count as a mitigating circumstance?"
"You're really starting to scare me," Mikhail admitted. "You drove Koschei to suicidal thoughts, recruited a Wraith Queen, found a ZPM, the weapon against all Wraiths... and didn't blow anything up. Who are you and what have you done with Chaya Sar?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"No, damn it. I seriously think an alien has possessed you," Mikhail grimaced.
"What makes you think that?"
"We've been chatting for five minutes and you haven't made a single joke about coitus yet," Mikhail explained.
"Ohhh," Chaya nodded knowingly. "Well, jokes aside, Alabaster is interested in you. Even though she said intimacy between you would be like mating with an animal..."
"Let me guess," Mikhail interrupted her. "After something like that, the proud title of monster-fucker won't be mine, right?"
"I don't know who gives out those titles," Chaya sighed. "But if anything does happen between you... Well, I'll call her a zoophile."
"I'm not that much of an animal," Mikhail winced.
"For a Wraith — yes," Chaya pursed her lips, looking at the man from under her brow. "You're not planning to..."
"Ew!" Mikhail grimaced. "Chaya, ew! How disgusting! The very thought of her in that way makes me want to throw myself into a black hole."
"You wouldn't mind having a black hole too, would you?" the Proculucian clarified.
"Enough," Mikhail slapped his thighs and stood up, offering her his hand. "Let's get out of here, you recluse of the radiance of pure mind. I knew prison changes people, but to this extent... Chaya?"
The girl stopped, holding the man's hand. She glanced briefly at the mattress, then asked in a thin voice:
"And are they REALLY waiting for us right this second? Or would fifteen minutes be okay?"
"Fifteen?" Mikhail winced. "And what are we going to do for the other twelve minutes after?"
"Well," Chaya started smiling as the man picked her up and spun her in the air, kissing her hotly and passionately. Returning the caress, the girl brought her lips to his ear and whispered:
"Twelve minutes, you say?" Her voice turned playful. "Want me to tell you about Concrete-811?"
And in the same moment, she landed on the mattress.
"Ew, Chaya! Ew! That's not the three words a man wants to hear from a woman!" Mikhail grimaced, taking off his jacket. "But go ahead. I want to hear about all the chemical elements in its composition."
* * *
Larrin tore her gaze from the screen and looked at Trebal, pale with rage.
"And do they know there's surveillance installed in that cell?"
"He definitely knows," the Dorandan hissed. "She's clearly figured it out. What a sneaky bitch!"
"Sneaky or not, getting a man interested in such a situation by talking about construction materials," Larrin paused meaningfully, looking at Trebal, who was ready to explode. "Breathe, or you'll burst."
"I want to go there and..."
"Join them?" Larrin suggested.
."..and kill them both!" the commander of the Hippaforalkus's eyes flashed with fury. "My battleship will be in position in three hours! Your ships will be there in four..."
"Correction," Larrin wagged her finger. "My ship is already there."
"And then there's this Wraith Queen, the millennium mother, still unclear what's going on with her," Trebal continued as if she hadn't heard. "And these two..."
"Breathe," the Nomad advised again. "And look at this from another angle. She spent several hours next to a Wraith Queen and almost died at the hands of the Ascended. Meanwhile, she acquired valuable equipment and a potential ally. And that ZPM of yours was installed directly on your ship."
"I know," Trebal growled.
"And he just came from a fight with Wraiths where he was almost eaten, thrown into a food cell, and generally if it weren't for the cyborg, they wouldn't have made it," Larrin continued. "Both of them are a bit out of sorts mentally."
"I noticed," the Dorandan snapped. "Still... Stop watching that!"
"If there was sound, I'd listen," Larrin chuckled. "Relax, nothing's happening that they haven't done before and that you didn't already know about. And if you hadn't stuck your nose into the security systems, you wouldn't know about this either."
"I wouldn't have stuck my nose in if you hadn't started making me uncomfortable by saying who knows what's going on in there, whether Chaya had become a Wraith worshiper and all that," Trebal snapped back, turning to her mirror. "Close that laptop, it's sickening to watch. No one has ever defiled the Atlantis brig like this before!"
The half-smile on Larrin's face, as she cast one last glance at the monitor, remained a mystery to the commander of the Hippaforalkus.
* * *
"Tell me the Wraith attack on the Hive Ship caused hallucinations," Kaspar muttered, sitting down next to Larrin.
"Maybe, but not in this case," the Nomad said gloomily, looking at the red-haired Wraith Queen sitting across from her. "Just in case, set the Frequency Gun to kill mode."
"Already done," the scout snapped, eyeing the Wraith suspiciously.
And the Queen, as if oblivious to the murderous looks directed at her from the commanders of Atlantis's warships, sat calmly on the other side of the table next to Chaya and stared at Mikhail.
She sat emotionless, lounging in her chair as though there was no one near her — not Ihaar, pressed into the far end of the table, not Kirik boring holes into her with his gaze, not the tense Alvar.
How she managed to maintain total indifference to the situation while in a room where only two or three people didn't want to put a fist-sized hole in her head remained a mystery to Larrin.
"So, everyone's here," the leader of the Lantians said.
"I think someone here is clearly superfluous," Trebal said.
"Agreed," Larrin concurred. "Saya," she addressed the cyborg girl standing behind the Queen's chair, "if she twitches, snap her neck."
"Larrin," Mikhail growled towards the Ares commander. "Keep your opinion to yourself."
"It's not just her opinion," Trebal backed her up. "You, Sar, and maybe Chaya are the only ones here who don't want to kill her. Very cruelly and very slowly."
The Queen tilted her head slightly towards the Proculucian and asked quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Which of these two is the Queen-Blade?"
Chaya, lowering her gaze, answered just as quietly:
"Both."
"Even so?" Surprise appeared on the Queen's face for the first time. But she suppressed it almost immediately, returning to her indifference.
"What are you even talking about?" Trebal fidgeted in her chair.
"About the fact that ten of the Scavenger's ships are currently heading to the dead planet," Mikhail said in a low voice. "And we're here to discuss a plan to destroy him. Before he destroys us."
"If the Queens-Blade are interested in the reason I'm here..." the Wraith Queen began.
"That's enough," Mikhail interrupted. "If anyone has problems with subordination and understanding who gives orders here — please leave. Permanently."
The Queen looked at the man with surprise and mild irritation, but aside from narrowing her eyes, she didn't react. Apparently, in the matriarchal society of the Wraith, male leadership was not the norm.
Larrin twitched to stand up, but met Kaspar's warning gaze. The scout shook his head, signaling that it wasn't the time to act on emotions.
Larrin, pushing her pride deep down, stayed put.
"Against us, as far as we can tell now, there's one Superhive, three Hives, and six Wraith cruisers," Mikhail said, bringing up a hologram in front of the attendees.
It was a volumetric image from the long-range scanners on the Ares.
"Two of our ships will arrive in the system in an hour, two more are already there at full combat readiness," Mikhail continued. "If Queen Alabaster can keep her word, we'll have a fifth ship. That's a two-to-one ratio."
"Your people have already escorted me to the damaged Hive," she said. "Regeneration processes have been started with your generator. They're proceeding quickly, but I set the ship to repair only those systems needed for battle — the hull, sublight engines, and the fighter bay. The hyperdrive and organic reactor will take the longest to restore, and those systems won't be needed in combat. But they will become one of the first targets attacked on the Hive Ship."
"According to the latest data, the Scavenger made an unscheduled stop in an uninhabited system," Chaya said, taking control of the holoprojector. "We don't yet know for what purpose, but the jumper sent for reconnaissance reported that no new ships arrived to join them. They're continuing to observe the target. As soon as the Wraith leave the system, the jumper will return to the planet with the gates and give us a more detailed report."
"Most likely, the Scavenger decided to drop out of hyperspace earlier to allow the ship's hull more time to recover from radiation," Alabaster said. "Wraith hyperdrives aren't as advanced as Lantian ones, so they travel between points in relatively short jumps. Radiation heavily interferes with organic systems and technologies — recovery is needed."
"In short, he intends to arrive at the system with ships restored to maximum combat capability?" Trebal clarified.
"Exactly," Alabaster nodded. "I don't see any other option."
"That's not all," Mikhail continued. "A reconnaissance team visited Talus at a place the locals call the Talus Sanctuary. We discovered that the Scavenger did indeed find and remove an energy structure from a ruined Ancient settlement."
"How bad is it?" Ihaar shuddered. "What are we talking about? A ZPM? A neutrino generator?"
"A reactor made of super-heavy materials," Chaya replied. "Possibly naquadah. We weren't able to determine its design or identify its type. But the settlement is old — one of the oldest in the galaxy that the Ancients ever had. So the technology isn't top-tier, but something more modest. According to preliminary estimates, we're talking about one of the first versions of a super-reactor."
"Is that bad?" Larrin asked, seeing Ihaar's pale face. To hell with that red-haired Wraith bitch. Something else was important now.
"It's definitely not good," Ihaar muttered. "We're probably talking about the power of three or even ten naquadah reactors like the ones Chaya built."
"But not a ZPM?" Trebal clarified.
"No, definitely not," Ihaar seemed to be calculating in his head. "His flagship is modified to power a ZPM, so its energy consumption is many times higher than what even that device can provide. But we mustn't forget that even the simplest Lantian-type reactor is an order of magnitude better than the main power source on a Hive Ship."
"So he'll be able to shoot faster and more powerfully than without this reactor?"
"I think so," Ihaar nodded. "Effectively, we'll have, say, three to five Hive Ships in one Superhive."
"Not to mention there are other ships too," Mikhail gritted his teeth. "Larrin, you and I will take on the Superhive. The Ares has enough firepower to attack even a Superhive and seriously disable it. Our mission in the battle is to lure their ships into orbit, prevent them from escaping, and warn anyone else. As soon as we return to the dead planet, a hyper-tunnel will be opened from Atlantis to block the enemy's escape through it. Alabaster, Trebal — you'll handle the Hive Ships. Once we finish with the Superhive, we'll join you. Kaspar," he looked at the scout, "Captains Asan and Labrea will be tasked with engaging the cruisers in combat. Alabaster, how many Strela can we deploy?"
"The Hive Ship is completely under my control, as are the soldiers aboard," the Queen said — whether boasting or defining her boundaries. "Thirty Strela, that's all the ship has. No damaged ones that could be repaired, no trophies."
"They'll be destroyed faster than we can blink," Alvar declared. "Kirik and I could take another Strela each, but thirty-two against... How many Strela are standard on a Hive Ship and a cruiser?"
"That's not how it works," Alabaster shook her head. "We don't know if his ships are old and mature or young. The older the ship, the more Strela it can carry."
"Still?" Jensen pressed. "Let's assume each of his ships carries the maximum number of Strela. What kind of number are we talking about? A hundred or two?"
"We're talking about half a thousand Strela," Alabaster said. The faces of those present instantly went pale. "But I don't think his ships are fully stocked. He wouldn't have been able to subjugate two other Queens — they only talk to their equals. That is, to other Queens. So there was a battle in which both his ships and the captured ones suffered losses. Strela are the fastest to expend in such engagements — they're expendable. So I think we should be thinking about half that number — no more than two hundred and fifty Strela."
"Either way, that's far too many compared to what we have," Trebal shook her head. "The only way to solve this problem is with missiles."
"Or we destroy the Superhive and the Scavenger, and Alabaster declares the survivors members of her Hive," Chaya suggested.
"Very unlikely that'll work," Alabaster shook her head. "If he had one Hive and one cruiser, as we initially thought — maybe. But this is an armada, led by Blades who are definitely not loyal to the dead Queens. To swear allegiance to a new Queen after betraying their old one... They won't do it, because they know that by serving a Queen-killer, the new Queen will kill them. They'll fight to the last. But you're right — some might respond to a call and a promise of forgiveness."
"And they'll definitely earn it, won't they?" Trebal smirked.
"No," Alabaster replied calmly. "I will kill them."
Silence fell in the Council Chamber.
"I think we should still focus on evacuating the Hive Ship and retreating," Trebal offered. "Too many unknowns. Besides, even if we can win, it would be at the cost of emptying our missile arsenals. That's not good."
"We can use the jumpers as small craft," Alvar suggested. "Each one has missiles, they can shoot down Strela and relieve some pressure on the fighters. And they'll be protected by their shields."
"I don't think so," Trebal said doubtfully. "More likely they'll get boxed in and overwhelmed by superior numbers. Mikhail," the girl looked at the Atlantis leader, who seemed lost in thought. "The Ares has been in a similar situation before. Maybe it would be better for him to handle the Hive Ships and the Superhive alone, while the Hippaforalkus and the other ships take out the cruisers?"
"Or we could use our Strela to disable the enemy ships' hyperdrives," Alabaster suggested. "And destroy the cruisers and Hive Ships first, then finish off the Superhive. Yes, we'll have to withstand its attacks for a while, but that way we'll drastically reduce the number of guns firing at us. Your homing missiles can destroy ships in minutes. If we choose the right tactics, we could finish it within one activation of the gates on the planet."
"Or," Larrin supported her friend, "we shouldn't get involved in this battle at all. Pull back, regroup, and with fresh forces..."
"And where are we going to get these 'fresh forces'?" Mikhail asked. "The Scavenger found seven ships somewhere while we thought he had nothing at all in his arsenal. What will happen if he arrives, sees that we've left a destroyed Hive Ship in orbit — and we're definitely not leaving one that's combat-capable? Where will he go after that? He'll send not one or two messenger ships, but all nine? And what forces will he have in a week? Two? How long until we find him on Atlantis's doorstep with a hundred ships? No, we need to solve this problem here and now. We have all the resources for it — and we'll use our ships to the fullest. I've heard your options," he said. "Most likely, it'll be right to send the Ares against the Hive Ships. It's tougher than it looks and stronger than the others. We'll transfer the Nomad ships to defend Alabaster's ship, along with the Strela. Trebal," he looked at the girl sitting to his left, "you'll handle the cruisers and any Hive Ships I might miss in the battle. Alabaster, your Hive Ship will do the same. I think it's best to launch the Strela from their hangars early and move them aside, so they can attack the enemy by surprise when he arrives. Maybe they'll get a hit on the hyperdrives and communication systems of the ships before they launch their own Strela. But all our large ships, except the Hive Ship, will stay outside the sensor range at the start of the battle. As soon as the enemy arrives — we attack. We can't allow the Hive Ship to be boarded or destroyed."
"Isn't that too much honor for a Wraith Queen?" Larrin couldn't hold back. "The entire tactic is built around using her ship to lure other Wraiths, then protecting it by sacrificing our own ships. Why should we?"
"Alvar, Kirik, if you're ready — take our Strela and head to the dead planet," Mikhail continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Alabaster — you're on the Hive Ship. Use your soldiers as you see fit for the common cause. Trebal — head to the dead planet and move the battleships into launch position. When Asan and Labrea arrive, brief them too. Ihaar, you'll go with Trebal on the Hippaforalkus. Kaspar, I'm asking your people to join the Athosians aboard our battleships. We need anti-boarding parties in case the enemy lands."
"Will do," the scout replied. "We're always up for fighting Wraiths. I'll gather everyone I can take."
"Saya," the cyborg girl tore her gaze from the back of the Wraith Queen's head. "You'll go with Alabaster and assist her."
"Understood," she reported.
"And Teyla won't be joining us?" Kaspar asked.
"She's in a coma," Mikhail said gloomily. "They're trying to stabilize her and repair all the brain damage."
"She was the one connected to the Hive Ship's mind?" Alabaster suddenly showed interest.
Mikhail nodded in confirmation.
"She did well to calm the ship and begin its recovery," Alabaster said with some warmth. "I could examine her. And if possible, then..."
The Queen turned her right hand palm-up and looked at the feeding sucker.
"If our doctors say they can't cure her, we'll ask for your help," Mikhail said dryly. "That's all. Let's move out. Chaya, I'll brief you separately."
"Understood." The girl, already on her feet, nodded in agreement. She seemed even calmer today than before.
"Larrin," Mikhail's voice stopped the Nomad, who had almost reached the rotating doors of the Council Chamber. "I'd like you to stay. We need to talk. Privately."