To his credit, Sheppard grasped the gravity of the situation immediately and spoke urgently into his own radio. "Colonel Caldwell, do you copy? Wave off!"
"What's wrong?" Teyla asked wearily.
"Our own people are about to blast this ship, that's what's wrong!" Rodney blurted.
"Hah." The voice was thick and oily, a gurgling death rattle. Scar hung there, clinging to the console, Daus's discarded sword still buried in his chest in some mad parody of murder. "How entertaining. You prey seem to excel in killing one another."
Ronon turned his pistol on the alien. "What does it take to put this creep down?"
The Wraith had his hands on Rodney's computer. "I understand this device. So we. Will die together. You and I. My ship…" He nodded at the Daedalus as it came into range. "And yours."
"Stop him!" shouted Rodney.
Sheppard and Ronon opened fire, too late to stop Scar's finger tracing across the execute control.
Master Scientist Kelfer had made many mistakes during his studies of the Wraith craft. It had been his error that released the ship's commander, his errors that led to the uncontrollable awakenings of the dormant crew; but what Kelfer had understood was the horrific power that the alien vessel represented, and the lethal potential it possessed if it raged out of control. His overload program, hammered into the Wraith command matrix like a steel spike through bone, worked just as he had hoped it would.
In the Hive Ship's bio-reactor cores, chemical bladders filled with fluids to moderate and control the energetic effects of the power plant abruptly closed themselves off. Regulator valves and sphincters sealed tightly and outputs spiked. The coruscating energy, normally metered and synchronized to the Wraith vessel's moods and conditions, churned like magma. Crystalline monitors cracked and shattered, conduits full of plasma-like processing fluids split open and gushed superheated liquid across the chitin decks, warping the bone and cartilage forms that made up the structure of the starship.
Whole decks of the Hive Ship instantly vented to space, burnt through by hyper-acidic reactions. Oxygen and breathing gasses combusted, firestorms rushing up every corridor. Wraiths were boiled alive in the amniotic baths of their hibernation cells. Organic sense-gels and nerve ganglia crisped and disintegrated.
Then finally, some tiny, critical element inside the bioreactor perished, unleashing all the pent-up power of the Hive Ship's core in one single, fatal eruption of heat and radiation.
Erony stood alone on the lip of the shattered hillside, staring down into the huge bowl-shaped depression where the Hive Ship had stood only hours earlier, her face gray with the drain of emotion. Carson hesitated to approach her, and stood a few meters away, not wanting to intrude on her introspection, but conflicted by his need to help someone he saw was in pain.
Static crackled in his headset. Ever since they had landed back at the encampment, he had been unable to reach Sheppard or the others on the alien vessel. The hand-held radios only had a limited range, and if the Hive Ship was in orbit it was unlikely he would be able to get a signal to John and the others. He hesitated; perhaps if he went back to the Puddle Jumper, the shuttle's more advanced communications might do the trick.
"Such a great wound." Erony spoke quietly, almost to herself. "How can we heal such an injury as this?"
The noblewoman was staring into the gouge in the ground, but Carson wondered to which `wound' she referred. This one, or one more personal? "Healing's my specialty, love. I'd be glad to help." Beckett wanted to mean it, but in truth, he was already thinking of how to broach the subject of evacuation to the young lady. How was he going to frame it? There was no easy way to tell a princess that she might have to lead her people from their home planet to some other, alien place.
The doctor turned as he heard urgent footsteps approaching. Linnian, drawn and sweaty, scrambled across the scattered dirt toward them. "My… My Lady," he puffed, "the camp's telekrypter was intact… I contacted the capital and First Minister Muruw had news. A ship, Milady! The observatories spotted a second space vessel in orbit. He counsels your return to the city with all due alacrity."
Erony faced them both. "Another ship? Have the Wraith returned?"
Carson opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped before he could take a breath, and pointed. High in the sky, a piercing, brilliant pinpoint of light flared. A ripple of static joined it on the open radio channel, and Beckett's blood ran cold. A nuclear explosion? "Oh no," he managed.
"What is that?" said Linnian.
"They destroyed themselves," whispered Erony, "they did it to save our planet."
The doctor grabbed the noblewoman's arm, the shock of the flash racing through him, bringing fear in its wake. "Erony, listen to me! We have to get to safety!"
Her eyes met his. "Where might that be, Doctor? Tell me, what place is safe from the Wraith?"
Beckett tried to give her an answer, but he found he had nothing.
Then from the hissing static, a very different reply formed in his ear. "Atlantis team, respond." The voice was curt and businesslike. "Atlantis team, this Colonel Steven Caldwell. What is your situation, over?"
"Colonel Caldwell." Beckett's voice was heavy with fatigue. "I was afraid the next voice I heard would be a Wraith one. The locals spotted your approach and thought it was another Hive…"
"Sorry to disappoint you," Caldwell said dryly. "We got here as soon as we could. Looks like we arrived in time for the fireworks, though." The colonel frowned as crewmen darted about the Daedalus's bridge with portable fire extinguishers and damage control equipment. The shockwave from the detonation of the Hive Ship had flipped the carrier over and blown out the energy shields in a single surge of lethal power. Systems were down throughout the vessel and reports of injuries and hull breaches were still coming in.
"You blew up the Hive Ship?"
"Negative, Doctor, that ship did a fine job of destroying itself. Almost got us too into the bargain." Caldwell threw an aside to his executive officer. "Remind me to thank General Landry for insisting on those shield upgrades."
"Colonel," began Beckett, "we had people on that Wraith ship,"
"The operative word being `had', Doctor. Hermiod pulled every human bio-signature with the Asgard transporters before the explosion."
"Yeah, he's our new hero," Sheppard walked on to the bridge with McKay following behind. "I thought Rodney was gonna hug the little guy."
The scientist made a face. "He just has that weird Roswell vibe…"
Sheppard nodded to the Daedalus commander. "Great timing, as always, Colonel."
"Pulling your backside out of the fire is starting to get habitforming," replied Caldwell, turning his attention to a report from a junior officer.
"Next time we'll call Pegasus 911 instead." Sheppard ignored the jibe and patched into the communications circuit. "Carson. Tell Lady Erony the crisis is over for now. Scar's gone and so is his boatload of buddies."
"Did… Did we lose anyone?"
"Teyla's in sickbay, but she'll heal."
There was a moment of silence before Beckett spoke again. "Colonel, Lady Erony has asked me to inquire after Lord Daus."
McKay picked up a headset. "Let me, uh, talk to her."
"Rodney?" Erony's voice was brittle. "I am glad you… I am sorry for what happened to you. It was my fault, my carelessness with my words."
"No," he shook his head. "It's all right. I… I'm sorry. Your father…"
The bridge suddenly seemed confined and claustrophobic. "He is dead." The woman said the words flatly, any sentiment bled from them. A simple statement devoid of all weight and emotion.
"I'm sorry," repeated Rodney. "His death saved the rest of us.
When Erony spoke again, she was calm and proper, as befitted a high noble of the Fourth Dynast. "Thank you, Dr. McKay. In the absence of the Lord Magnate I must assume his duties for the interim. I will take my leave of you."