“We’re not the ones shooting at something we can’t hit!” Rodney yelled. “They have shields, you—”
“Sheppard!” Daniel yelled abruptly over the radio. “Ronon and Dr. Weir were just grabbed by an Asgard transport beam! They’re both gone.”
“Damn it!” John dived out from behind the steps, hoping the Satedans would hold their fire for the next few seconds, and started sprinting for the jumper. Teyla and Rodney were right behind him.
He ducked into the lee of the jumper as the Satedan riflemen opened fire again. It would have been good tactics if they’d been shooting at an unshielded Dart, but all they were achieving was spraying stray bullets across the square. The ship was rising, hovering over the building where he hoped Daniel was at that moment taking evasive action.
“You two go cover Jackson,” he said. “I’ll take the jumper up and see if I can bring this son of a bitch down before it leaves atmosphere.”
“I’m taking the other jumper,” Rodney said.
“Damn it, McKay—”
Rodney’s jaw was set. “They have Elizabeth.”
“All right, go,” John said after a moment. “Go!”
He scrambled into the jumper and threw himself into the pilot’s seat. The Asgard ship was rising faster, skimming over the city. He brought the jumper’s systems online with a silent, furious demand, and brought it arrowing up after the Asgard ship.
“You have to adjust the jumper’s shield configuration,” Rodney said rapidly. “Otherwise they can mimic our shield frequency and transport us aboard. I’m sending instructions now.”
“I’m on it,” John said, ordering the ship to make the changes as they were transmitted. Below him the other jumper was lifting, and he could see Teyla running across the square for the doorway of the building where they’d been meeting.
“Jackson, you still there?”
“I’m here,” Daniel said. He sounded out of breath. “If you keep moving, it’s harder for the Asgard transport beams to get a lock on you. Not impossible, though, so anything you can do—”
“They’re trying to pull back,” John said. “I’m going after them.”
He brought the jumper up and over the Asgard ship, forcing them to bank and roll to avoid him, their collision alarms probably screaming. The jumper’s computer pointed out helpfully that there were drones available to fire.
“Unidentified ship, respond!” he yelled over the jumper’s comm system, hoping that they were listening for transmissions. “You have two of my people! I want them back right now, or I’m opening fire on your vessel!”
He didn’t really expect a response, and didn’t get one, but he figured it fulfilled any obligation to try to be diplomatic. The computer was still busily suggesting drones.
“I think you’re right,” he told it. “Preparing to fire. Jumper two, stand clear.”
“Copy that,” Rodney said. He wouldn’t have been John’s choice as a jumper pilot in combat, he’d logged plenty hours in the jumpers under normal conditions, but precious few of them under fire, but he had to admit they were better off with two jumpers in the air rather than one.
He readied a single drone, put some vertical distance between himself and the Asgard ship, and fired. He didn’t want to tear up the ship with Elizabeth and Ronon aboard, but their shields ought to be able to take a single drone strike. The drone spun toward the Asgard ship and spattered itself against their shields in a blaze of light.
“Teyla! Report!”
“I have found Dr. Jackson, and we are fine,” Teyla said over the radio. “He suggests we dial the gate and call for reinforcements from Atlantis.”
“Negative,” John said immediately. “Whatever that contamination is, we can’t risk bringing it here. These people have enough problems.”
“Understood.”
“Unidentified ship, respond! Come on, talk to me, answer the damn phone.”
John kept his own jumper above the Asgard ship as they climbed, hoping that its field of fire didn’t extend to directly above its hull. An alarm sounded, and the jumper’s sensors registered that the Asgard ship was trying to use its transport beams.
“That’s not going to work,” John said. “We’re way ahead of you. Give me my people back, and I won’t have to blow you out of the sky.”
The pilot of the Asgard ship seemed to also come to the conclusion that trying to transport John and Rodney aboard wasn’t going to work. It banked hard to port, bringing its beam weapons to bear on Rodney’s jumper below it.
“McKay—”
“I see it!”
“Evasive maneuvers!”
“I’m taking them!”
The Asgard beam still clipped the jumper’s stern, although it didn’t look like it had done more than minor damage, the shields absorbing most of its punishment.
“Zelenka’s going to make you pay for that jumper if you wreck it,” John said.
“He’s not the one out here getting shot at! I’d like to see him do better.”
The Asgard ship pulled up sharply, its shields bumping the jumper’s own ventral shields, making the jumper rattle and kick. He held it on course grimly.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere with our people.” He edged the jumper down, their shields shuddering and protesting as they met, and the Asgard ship veered slightly downwards. It was like a game of bumper cars, with the added entertainment of knowing that if he pushed too far and either shield failed, he’d smash the jumper against the Asgard ship’s hull.
The Asgard ship rolled to port, and he started to follow its turn, and then had to veer away to avoid colliding with Rodney’s jumper.
“Jumper two, adjust your course!”
“I copy, but where do you expect me to go?”
“Follow its turn!”
“Excuse me for not wanting to fly upside down!”
The Asgard pilot had no such reservations, and had rolled his ship entirely over. It edged under John’s jumper, which blared a warning that he was fixed in the Asgard ship’s ventral sights.
“Crap,” John said, and rolled the jumper hard to starboard, but not in time. The Asgard ship’s ion cannons battered against his shields, and the jumper’s alarms began shrieking. Shields at 25 %. Shields at 10 %. Shields at 5 %. “McKay! Get them off me!”
The other jumper veered sharply into the path of the Asgard ship, which pulled up close enough to a collision that Rodney’s jumper must have been shrieking its own protest. John had problems of his own.
“I’ve got damage to main propulsion,” he said. The jumper was handling less like a sleek bird of prey and more like the non-aerodynamic brick that it actually was. With an effort he could keep it flying in a straight line, but he was losing altitude. “Jumper two, you’re on your own.”
“You’re kidding me,” Rodney said.
“Don’t let them get away with Elizabeth.”
Rodney’s voice over the radio was grim. “Damn right I won’t.”
Rodney pushed the jumper for more speed. “So now I’m a fighter pilot,” he muttered. “That’s just great. This is what we have the Air Force for—”
He broke off as the Asgard ship began climbing steeply again. He maneuvered trying to get above it, but couldn’t do better than staying on its tail.
“You’re letting them gain too much altitude,” John warned over the comm system.
“Yes, because what I really need is back-seat driving,” he snapped.
“If you let them clear the atmosphere—”
“Then they’ll jump to hyperspace and we’ll be screwed. I know.”
The Asgard ship was still climbing, the overarching sky turning from bright blue to an ominously darker indigo.
“Unknown vessel, respond,” John said. “Damn it, respond!”
“I’m firing drones,” Rodney said.
“Blowing up their ship would be bad.”