“But not today, ma’am, right?” Major Lorne had entered the chamber without her noticing. “I mean, not that I doubt your skills or anything, but I’d hate to be stuck on this tub with the lights out.”
“Not today,” she agreed. “Besides, there’s too much to do here. Sensors are still out, so are the weapons. We have sub-light engines and hyperdrive, though, which is a start.”
“That’s great, Clonel, because we might want to think about zapping out to another system for a drop-off.”
Carter frowned. “I don’t follow you, Major.”
“We have some, uh, cargo that you might want to dump. Sergeant Rush’s team were sweeping the ship and we came across some old friends in a holding chamber.”
“Wraith,” she said with a scowl. “Teyla mentioned that she’d encountered some in one of the cells. Are they secure?”
“I posted guards with shoot-to-kill orders outside the hatches.”
“Good work.”
Lorne cleared his throat. “What do you want me to do with them?”
Carter realized the question she was being asked. “We can’t release them here.”
“No ma’am. And from what I hear, the Asgard doesn’t seem to care what happens to them.” Lorne paused before continuing. “Which doesn’t leave a lot of choices.”
Sam’s expression hardened. “I’m not issuing orders for an execution detail, Major, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m just outlining the options,” he replied. “If things were reversed, you know how it would go.”
“I do,” she noted. “But we’re not the Wraith. For now, keep them locked up. We’ll deal with the prisoners once we get the Aegis up and running.”
Lorne saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
The Puddle Jumper emerged from the Stargate on P5X-404 into the middle of a rainstorm. Sheppard blinked as a wall of water battered against the canopy glass and sluiced away, forced into streaks by the velocity of the craft.
“Lovely weather,” noted Rodney from the jump seat.
“It always rains when you come home.” Sheppard angled the Jumper upwards in a slow climb, leaving the rocky canyon they had emerged into behind, sweeping up toward the low, ponderous clouds. He caught a glimpse of strange, globe-like monoliths out across the landscape, but they were lost as the ship entered the storm bank. In a few seconds they were flying in clear blue skies, the color darkening by the moment as they rose up toward the edge of the atmosphere.
McKay watched the planet fall behind them. “Welcome to the Milky Way galaxy,” he said, mimicking the tone of an in-flight announcer. “Thank you for flying Gatebridge.” He grinned at his own joke. “Can you imagine the kind of air miles you’d get for this trip?
“Technically, not as many as the Daedalus and Apollo crews would get. I mean, realistically speaking, we’ve only gone from the hangar to the Atlantis gate room, across the Midway station and now out of the gate here.”
“Wormhole travel still counts,” McKay replied. “I’m keeping a record.”
“What, really?”
Rodney nodded. “Bill Lee and I have been keeping a log. We’re trying to work out who’s the most-traveled human being in history.”
“That’s dumb,” Sheppard rolled his eyes. “We really have to get you a proper hobby, McKay.” He paused. “So, who’s top of the list?”
Rodney frowned. “Sam.”
“Am I on there? In the top ten?”
“Didn’t you just say you thought it was dumb?”
“I just wondered.” The Jumper’s passage began to smooth out as the atmosphere of 404 thinned, the blue sky becoming black.
An alert tone sounded from Sheppard’s radio. “Jumper Three, do you copy?” asked a crisp female voice. “This is Odyssey.”
“Odyssey, this is Colonel Sheppard, we read you five by five.”
“Roger that. Your vector is zero six bravo, clear to land on deck two, checkers green. And Colonel? Word to the wise, sir. Watch your separation, we have a lot of busy sky up here.”
“I read you, Odyssey. Sheppard out.”
“What did she mean by that? ‘Busy sky’?”
“Take a look.” Sheppard brought up the tactical plot on the heads-up display and it was instantly filled with moving indicator glyphs.
“Whoa, what is this, a boat show?”
“Staging point,” Sheppard explained, dropping the HUD again. “The SGC’s taking part in a joint task force mission.”
McKay leaned forward in his seat to get a better look and his eyes widened.
Dwarfing the size of its stone-built counterparts on Earth, a towering golden pyramid drifted past the Jumper’s blunt nose. Beyond it were a half-dozen more Ha’tak class motherships, the sigils of the System Lords that once commanded them now blotted out by the new pennants of the Free Jaffa Nation. Amid the fleet, smaller Al’kesh bombers moved in tight arrowhead packs, and box-formation flights of Death Gliders conducted area patrols.
A group of the ships matched pace with the Jumper for a few moments, the winged scarab shapes of the Jaffa starfighters bracketing them as the pilots gave them the once-over; then abruptly they broke off in high turns and banked away.
Sheppard glimpsed the hard lines of the USS Odyssey to the starboard and angled toward it. Among the sculpted shapes of the Goa’uld-designed vessels, the Earth ship looked out of place, angular and deadly among its larger companions. The colonel turned for the deep space carrier’s landing pontoon, passing a lone F-302 fighter going the other way. The 302 pilot dipped his wings in a salute and Sheppard rocked the Jumper from side to side in return.
Sheppard flared the Jumper and took it in low and slow, though the atmosphere shield and down on to the deck, where an airman in a visibility vest directed the ship to a parking area.
“Down and safe,” he said aloud, dropping the embarkation ramp.
Waiting for them was an Air Force major in the characteristic khaki jumpsuit worn by almost everyone aboard these ships. He tore off a hard, sharp salute that was so firm, at first Rodney thought it was a kind of karate chop. “Colonel, Doctor, welcome aboard the Odyssey. I’m Major East, the executive officer. The captain sends his regrets that he couldn’t be here to meet you, but he’s off the ship.” East began walking in quick, non-nonsense strides across the landing bay and Sheppard fell in with him as McKay jogged to keep up. “Tactical operations meeting,” he continued. “The Jaffa are planning this strike down to the heartbeat.”
“What’s the op?” asked Sheppard.
“We have good intel about one of Baal’s bases in an asteroid belt, out on the edge of Jaffa space. The Ha’taks are leading the fight, we’re handling combat air patrol of the engagement zone. Watching their backs, so to speak.”
“A strike mission?” echoed Rodney. “Nobody said anything about going into battle when we got here.”
“You won’t,” said East, “you’ll be gone by then.”
“Major, this could take a while,” said Sheppard, “I mean, there’s a whole database of Asgard learning aboard this ship and we have to find just one little bit. ”
“If it’s actually in there,” noted the officer. “We looked once already.”
“I’ll find it,” Rodney insisted.
“I hope so,” said the major, “because the IOA and the SGC want you back on your way to the Pegasus galaxy within 48 hours. That’s the zero line for the mission go-no go.” East gave Rodney a measuring look. “You’re lucky to get across the bridge so fast. Normally there’s a day-long quarantine.”
McKay nodded. “Colonel Carter got them to waive that and gate us straight here.”
“That SG-1 rep goes a long way, I guess. You save the planet as many times as her team did and it gets you a lot of leeway.”
“We’ve saved planets and stuff as well,” noted Sheppard. “Not in this galaxy, but you know… Important planets.”
East gave a nod. “Yes sir. I heard that.” They halted at a hatch to a corridor. “Doctor McKay, if you follow me, I’ll escort you down to the core for a security check.”