A storm of stunner fire converged on Ronon Dex, streaking past him, snapping at his heels as he forced himself to run. All the Wraith, so it seemed, now had him in their sights. He dove for the lieutenant’s fallen submachine gun, but still he was too sluggish. Too slow!
A stun bolt caught his arm and spun him with the shock of it. Dimly he was aware of his particle magnum turning to dead weight in the insensate flesh of his hand. The cold, numbing sensation swept down the side of his body, wiping out feeling from his nerves. He sagged, swearing a gutter oath as his legs gave out and let gravity take him.
The next moment he was prone, the instant between the hit and the fall gone to him. Ronon tried to drag himself up, toward the pistol that lay just beyond his reach. His fingers touched the warm metal; but then a heavy boot came down on the barrel, holding it in place.
He looked up into the leering face of a Wraith officer; closer now, and he could pick out the clan sigils that identified the male as the commander of a scoutship. “The Runner,” it said, cocking its head. “A good catch.”
“Bite me,” he spat. Rough, pale hands dragged him back to his feet.
The commander grinned. “Show some respect,” it told him. “You’ll live longer.” The alien stepped away as the cluster of warriors parted to reveal a figure standing in among them, the person they had been protecting.
She was Wraith; that was to say, she was the very essence of what they were, distilled into a single being. Lithe and sinuous, her flesh was a glistening greenish-grey the color of a bruise, and dark, oiled hair cascaded down around her shoulders. She wore a close-cut outfit made of some form of tanned hide that did not invite too close a scrutiny. But more than anything, it was the manner in which she carried herself that identified her, gave her name. The female was haughty and sinister by equal measure; she was every inch a Wraith Queen.
She gave Ronon an arch, disdainful glare, which by moments slowly transformed into a ready, fang-toothed smile. “Where is the alien vessel?” she demanded.
The Satedan gave a rough shrug. “The what?”
“I know who you are, Ronon Dex,” she continued, stalking slowly around him. “I know of you and your cohorts from Atlantis. I can imagine why you are here. You want it as much as we do.”
From the corner of his eye he saw movement and his heart sank. The commander was directing a group of Wraith to push people out of the sick lodge and on to the boulevard; first among them was Keller, the boy Laaro and Kullid. The healer was open-mouthed at the sight of the aliens, too fascinated by what he was seeing to understand the danger he was in.
Ronon made a play of yawning. “Let’s get this over with. You wanna go straight to the threats, or what?”
The Queen gave a throaty chuckle. “I don’t want you, Runner,” she sniffed, offering a hand to the commander as he returned, “you are just…collateral.”
The Satedan saw the Wraith commander drop an Atlantis-issue radio into the Queen’s spindly fingers. She studied it for a moment, and then spoke into the mike. “I wish to speak to Colonel John Sheppard. I know you can hear me, human. Your shuttlecraft was seen exiting the portal. I know you are nearby.”
There was a long moment of silence before the radio crackled into life. “Hi, this is John. Sorry I’m not in to take your call right now, but please leave a message and we’ll get around to kicking your butt just as soon as we can.”
Ronon rocked back on his heels, grinning. “He’s a funny guy.”
The Wraith Queen’s frosty smile became brittle. “Colonel. It is a pleasure to finally encounter your band. You have been quite troublesome to many of my race’s clans.”
“We like to keep busy,” offered the Satedan.
The alien ignored him. “Understand me, we have no interest in this planet or its people. There are so many rich worlds to cull and this ball of dirt has so little to offer us…” She sniffed the air, as if she smelled something unpleasant. “Nor do I care about you, your Runner or the rest…” The Queen shot Ronon a glare. “What I want is information, about the alien ship. The thing these tribals call the Aegis.”
A ripple of fear spread through the Heruuni who cowered in groups under the stun guns of the Wraith.
She gestured at the commander and inclined her head; in turn the Wraith strode over to Keller and the others, and grabbed the boy by the arm.
“Laaro!” shouted the doctor. “No! Leave him alone!” More Wraith crowded in, forcing her back.
Ronon took a step forward and got a rifle butt in the chest for his trouble. He staggered, wheezing. “Not… Not the boy. Me. Take me if you have to —”
“Be silent,” snarled the Queen, as Laaro was presented to her. She gave him a cold, indulgent smile. “Hello, little human. Do you know who I am?”
Laaro was trembling, but he didn’t look away. “I know.”
The Wraith Queen spoke into the radio again. “Sheppard. Give yourself up, show me where you have sent the alien ship. If you do not, then I will let my warriors free to feed on every living being on this planet. And I will begin the cull with this child before me.” She chuckled again, the tip of a black tongue flicking across the points of her teeth.
Chapter Twelve
Carter entered the control chamber with her weapon at the ready, Major Lorne a few steps behind her in a similar stance. “Teyla?” she called. “Are you all right?”
Across the room, close to the cryo capsule, the Athosian woman threw her a wave. “I am uninjured.”
“Where’s the other Wraith?” said Lorne, panning around with his gun.
Before them, the Asgard avatar faded into being. “The Wraith has been subdued.” It inclined its head and Carter glanced in the direction it was indicating. In the corner of the chamber, three Risar stood in a triangle around the trembling form of the alien warrior, each of them holding a glass orb in their hands. Softly glowing rays from the objects bathed the Wraith in waves of color.
“A neural paralysis beam,” explained Fenrir. “The Wraith will harm no one in this state.”
Carter slung her weapon and strode across the chamber to come face to face — or close enough — with the Asgard hologram. A nerve jumped in her jaw; the colonel was about as furious as she could be, and it took a moment of effort to keep her voice level when she spoke. “Your actions have left the entire planet Heruun open to attack by a Hive Ship. Everyone back there, the locals, my people… They could be culling them all right now!”
Fenrir cocked his head. “You have a greater understanding of Asgard technology than any of the humans here. You know that this vessel’s combat and defense systems are not at full capacity. What would you have had me do? Remain in orbit and let the Aegis be overrun by them?” He pointed a thin finger at the Wraith.
Carter bit down on the first angry retort that came to mind and pushed it away. “This ship has teleportation technology. You could have beamed people to safety. You could have —”
“Done what, Colonel Carter?” Fenrir’s dark eyes narrowed. “I made a tactical hyperspace jump in order to save my ship.”
“Where to?” said Lorne.
“Only a short distance away, Major Lorne. A few light-minutes from the planet you call Heruun, up above the star system’s plane of the ecliptic.”
“We have to go back,” Teyla told him. “Fenrir, we cannot leave an entire world to the predations of the Wraith…” She faltered. “These are the people you have been protecting, the ones who helped you repair your ship. You cannot abandon them.”