Great, now he had an army. “Okay, well, where I come from a salute is enough. We’re not into the kneeling thing. What’s your name?”
“Ushat,” he replied, standing and replacing his helmet. “I am the leader of Dalera’s warriors.”
“I’m Major John Sheppard.” He pointed to Ford and Teyla, and introduced them.
One of the warriors abruptly cried out. Jumping back like he’d been scalded, the man swung his axe down onto the ground, again and again, scattering pieces of wreckage. His companions laughed uneasily at him, until Ushat called out, “Enough.”
Poking his head from the blacksmith’s door, Rodney called, “Did you find—?”
Ford tossed him another Shield. An expression of disgust on his face, Rodney gingerly held the device between his fingers. “What is this stuff all over…”His voice trailed off.
John followed Ushat across to where a few chunks of Wraith arm still twitched on the ground. The warrior who’d been doing the chopping was still looking around nervously.
“Search the wreckage,” Ushat ordered his men.
“Good thinking.” John readied his weapon while the warriors began clambering over the twisted hunks of metal. “A little thing like a missing arm isn’t going to stop a Wraith.” How anything could have survived that crash was beyond him, but underestimating the general stubbornness of the Wraith always was a losing proposition.
“Here,” a warrior called out. He was standing behind the canopy. “The monster lives!” He raised his axe.
“No!” John yelled, running around the remains of the fountain. “Maybe he can tell us something.”
With the raised axe paused above his head, the warrior looked past John’s shoulder.
Ushat, who was right on John’s six, replied, “Major Sheppard speaks true. Stand aside.”
John had seen a lot of less-than-pleasant sights in his time. Hell, the entire square was littered with bodies and unattached pieces. The horror here was that the Dart’s pilot was still alive. That is, what was left of him. With both of his arms severed, the Wraith had been unable to reach the self-destruct device on his chest. And he wasn’t exactly able to wander off anywhere, what with having no legs, and not much of a pelvis to speak of. Despite his loathing of the things, John’s instinct was to put it out of its misery with a bullet to the head.
Seemingly oblivious to its injuries, the Wraith, still strapped to the remains of the seat, hissed at him. “Come closer and let me feed upon you.”
“Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but you’re kind of missing a few vital parts. Or are those big teeth for something more than show?”
Snarling in disgust, the Wraith flung his head from side to side, trying to dislodge himself. “Your puny defenses will not stop us.”
“Stopped you, didn’t it? Darts are pretty much falling out of the sky all over the place.”
Abruptly, his thrashing ceased, and his head slumped forward onto his chest.
“Remove its head,” said Ushat, nodding to the warrior.
“Looks dead to me, sir,” Ford said, wincing.
“Can’t say as I blame them for wanting to make certain.” John turned aside before the axe slammed down. The absence of Darts now flying around the city didn’t reassure him nearly as much it should have. With that thought, he turned back and crouched down to stare at the inside of the Dart’s canopy.
“Sir?” Ford squatted next to him.
Something like a HUD flickered intermittently, almost as if it was stuck on a recycle mode. John was about to call Rodney to come check it out when the display sputtered and died — but not before he’d caught sight of a gut-wrenching image.
Beside him, he heard Ford inhale sharply. “Was that what I think it was?”
“What is it that you saw?” Ushat demanded.
“Unless I’m mistaken,” John replied, standing and stepping down off the wreckage, “there are two hive ships inbound.”
“That bodes ill, but it is no surprise.” Ushat turned and looked around at the scattered bodies of rebels and Gat’s minions. Spitting in disgust, or maybe to get the bitter taste of defeat out of his mouth, he added, “Kesun told me that when this day came, the Wraith would feed upon the souls of the damned at night, and then, having acquired the strength of their life, attack the Citadel at dawn.”
Rodney, still supporting Lisera, had joined Teyla, whose face was drawn and thoughtful. “Okay. All right,” said Rodney. “We should rethink our escape plan.”
John slowly turned to face him. “Five minutes ago, you wanted to stay and broker a peace deal between everyone.”
“Yes, well, I think it’s fairly obvious by now that my ideals can easily be swayed when faced with a vanishingly small probability of survival.”
Teyla exhaled heavily. “I doubt that escape is now possible. Frustrated by their inability to cull those within the Citadel, the Wraith will most likely spend the night scouring the areas unprotected by the Shields.”
“The villages,” Ford said.
“I think the jumper option’s off the table. Even assuming we could negotiate our way through a city in the throes of anarchy—” John gestured toward what sounded like more street fighting headed their way. “—and fight through the Wraith to get to the jumper, we can’t fly it while we’re carrying the Shields.”
Rodney’s face slumped in resigned frustration. “And the chances of surviving a gauntlet of Dart sweeps are next to non-existent.”
Clearly troubled by the conversation, Ushat asked, “You wish to leave us?”
Offering up what he hoped was a reassuring smile, John replied. “Just figuring out if we could go for help.”
“From Atlantis?” Ushat’s eyes turned hopeful.
“Unfortunately, that’s not going to be possible.” John addressed his team. “The only way through this is to help these people defend the Citadel against the Wraith. And we’re going to have to hope we can do that before Dr Weir sends in the backup teams, or they’ll be getting our first look at a hive ship — and probably not live long enough to tell anyone about it.”
The sounds of street fighting drew closer. John glanced at the ruined Enclave. “Is there anything — anyone left?”
Ushat’s lips curled in regret. John recognized the look in the man’s eyes. The Daleran had seen a lot of people die in the last few hours, people he’d been charged to protect. “Knowing that the Wraith would strike in large numbers,” Ushat explained, “Kesun this morning ordered every one of Dalera’s warriors to assist with repairs to our weakest point, the old eastern wall. Gat and the other barbarian chiefs chose that moment to make their move against the Chosen, whom they have besmirched.” His face hardened in anger. “Gat has long demanded payment from villagers before allowing them to enter the transports. Many times I told Kesun that we must stamp out this abhorrent practice, for Dalera charged her warriors and priests to accept only gifts and to never demand payment. But…” He paused and looked at his men. “It was our most sacred law, never to turn our hands against the people. Only against the Wraith.”
John was certain he could see the big man’s lips tremble behind his blond beard. “Until now, fear of the Wraith had checked their hands,” Ushat continued. “But somehow, Gat’s followers managed to penetrate the Enclave. They butchered most of the Chosen in their sleep, after which they set the rooms ablaze, fueling the flames with blackwater. Ah!” He slammed the head of his axe into the ground in frustrated rage. “How they could have done this only Dalera knows, for none but the Chosen have the divine power to enter the Enclave.”
Rodney’s face had adopted that ‘guilty-as-charged’ look that he was so good at. It was a moot point, though. The servants — or slaves — that they’d seen stashing the food away had obviously belonged to Gat, but Rodney had been right about the condition of the temple. Someone had been doing the cleaning and polishing. Then there was the little matter of that additional control panel in the transport.