They
The Bishop tells us 'When the boys come back
They will not be the same; for they'll have fought
In a just cause; they lead the last attack
On Anti Christ; their comrades' blood has bought
New right to breed an honourable race,
They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.'
'We're none of us the same' The boys reply.
'For George lost both his legs; and Bill's stone blind;
Poor Jim's shot through the lungs and like to die;
And Bert's gone syphilitic: you'll not find
A chap who's served that hasn't found some change.'
The Bishop said 'The ways of God are strange.' S. Sassoon
Survivors.
The wind whistled outside the ship as it swooped low, knocking the leaves off the trees in its wake. They didn't have much time; the Hive was coming.
"Where the hell are our men?" The gunner growled in frustration, more at the screen then at the pilot.
He shrugged a shoulder and responded anyway. "I doubt that Meredith would appreciate being referred to as one of 'our men'."
"Do you have to bring that up now?!" The gunner snapped. "How much time do we have?"
"Intel from the other two gate-ships-"
"Puddle-jumpers." The gunner corrected, just to set the pilot's teeth on edge.
"Suggests we have roughly ten minutes before the Hive ship reaches-We have contact."
"About bloody time. Colin report!"
"We're under fire-" A man's voice crackled over the radios.
"What a surprise." The pilot observed dryly. "Do you have coordinates?"
"NO! We're getting overrun-" He was cut off sharply by static.
"What?!"
"The Hive has broken atmosphere on the other side of the planet, they are attempting to interfere with communications." The pilot informed him.
"Of course they are-can you get the radio back?"
"Not while you are diverting power to keeping us cloaked, and before you suggest it if I attempt to establish a connection with Meredith or Don we may as well paint a shezzghen yellow target on our ship."
"Well that's just fantastic."
There was a brief silence save for the wind and the white noise of the radios. The gunner glared at the pilot.
"Fine, what do you want to do?"
"I would suggest that we set off a flare and circle back to the clearing to pick them up."
"Which gives us all of thirty seconds to out run a dereztka swarm of blood-thirsty-"
"Do you have a better suggestion?" The pilot inquired.
"No." The gunner sighed, hands flying quickly over the controls to set a flare blazing like a small red comet at their tail. He turned the cloaking device off; the flare would render it useless anyway, and started patching power through to the shields instead. "Why is it that every time you have an idea it's suicidal?"
"Why is it that every time I fly with you I end up in a position where I am forced to make the choice between certain and only probable death?" The pilot shot back.
"Thank God we've got better shields then them." The gunner muttered as the clearing came into view.
They swept down; breaking to a halt far faster then any ship had a right to. The flare streaked past overhead. They stared quietly at the tree line for a moment.
"How long do you think-" The gunner began.
The pilot shook his head. "You should open the hatch."
"Um yeah right."
The hatch slid open. They waited, the gunner checked his watch about every ten seconds, the pilot stared impassively at the tree line. They both jumped as the radio stuttered back into life.
"Shezzghen tsic gala-"
"Meredith," The gunner replied. "Delightful as always to hear from you."
"Dereztka, tsic, aretrza, MUXZLA, hezzacx-"
"And to your ancestors as well." The pilot replied cheerfully. "The hatch is already open, the others are?"
"Colin's been hit. Don's got him. We can't contact the other 'jumpers." She spoke in short sharp bursts of information between the blasts of stunner fire.
"The Hive has managed to interfere with our communications-again." The pilot observed.
"There's nothing wrong with our radios!" The gunner snapped.
"Not if you don't mind having them cut off, or conveniently stop working every time we come within-"
"You just want the Captain to-"
The Ship's inner politics were cut off as four people broke the tree line, two at a run, one at an impressive hobble, and the fourth…..There was a fourth.
"Aretrza xcutze! ARE YOU INSANE?!" The gunner yelled. "LEAVE HIM!"
But it was too late, because they'd already cleared the trees and were half way across and if they stopped now for anything…..The stunner blasts whistled past, blue in the air and leaving a salty scent. They couldn't leave him, couldn't take the moment to pause and drop him, not without giving the approaching soldiers an easier target, or tripping over him. So the gunner swore, and the pilot closed his eyes, silently mouthing the count down until the wave of Darts arrived. Don skidded into the jumper, dropping the stunned man from his back and twisting to haul Colin in after him. Meredith took the time to fire a few parting shots at the horde, which was just breaking the tree line, before stepping neatly inside and pulling the hatch closed. They were off the ground before it had properly sealed.
There was a short moment of calm while the gunner goggled at the stunned man and the others took the time to catch their breath while the air was still mercifully free of Darts.
"I see you are all still alive-" The pilot began in a token attempt to break the tension and stop the gunner's rant before it began.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! Are you dereztka Anqxuicta or are you TRYING to kill us all! Meredith this was your idea wasn't it?!"
"He tried to help us." Meredith replied through gritted teeth.
"I knew it! I thought, who would be suicidal enough to risk another bloody outbreak on Ship for one useless half dead imdezzca and you know, for some reason, can't think why-the name Meredith Cadman just sprung to mind!"
"We found him running from the Crevazi," Don told him. "He was trying to fight them off with this."
The tall soldier produced an old fashioned bullet pistol from the inside of his battered jacket and passed it to the gunner. He took it and examined it thoughtfully.
"With bullets? He was trying to fight them off with bullets?! Has he been living in a shezzghen cave for five hundred years?!"
The soldier shrugged. "Colin found him. He took a shot for him."
"You see!" Meredith countered. "If he was infected Colin's got it already, which means I've got it-"
"You don't know that-" The gunner began.
"The Hoffan virus became transferable from person to person some five hundred years ago. And we have Darts coming in, in…roughly ten seconds I believe. Meredith I suggest you hang on to your comatose friend."
The gunner took a moment to reflect that at least he had bothered to give them warning this time. Then his lungs froze up and his stomach spasmed as they shot through the air, accelerating faster then they could fall. The Darts streamed through the air behind them, streaking after them like the flare. Groaning and trying to force his last meal to remain in his guts where he'd left it the gunner crawled his way to his seat. He shut his eyes, trusting the pilot because he had to, just as the pilot had to trust him. He opened his eyes, letting his vision merge with the ships programming, taking aim-drones flashed through the air behind them. The Darts were returning fire, but the 'jumper twisted and swerved, the closest they came was a glancing blow which the shields deflected like rain.
"Jumper Seven," Colin panted into the radio. "We're under fire, ten, no nine, Darts. Two persons wounded, one possible infection. Request dialling the 'gate, immediately."
There was a cackle of static as they came into range of 'jumpers seven and nine, and a confirmation came through in pidgin. Followed by a reminder of quarantine procedure on Ship.
"Are you trying to loose those Darts or invite them back for hau-jexsan?" Don asked flatly.
"Patience is a virtue." The pilot reminded him, just as evenly. "Of course I could-"
"No. Whatever it is no. Not unless we're going to die otherwise, you understand?" The gunner interrupted. "If it involves the rest of us getting any sort of bodily fluid splattered around the inside of my 'jumper-"
"Your 'jumper?"
"Unnatural G-forces, or any sort of manoeuvre that's likely to make my blood pool in any extremities-"
The pilot sighed. "If we always stuck to-traditional-methods neither of us would be alive today."
"You can't use that as an excuse to play chicken with Crevazi!"
"Why not?" The pilot replied, and the gunner groaned because he was wearing that grin the one that meant he was high on adrenaline, blood-lust, being two inches from death and sweet Mary alone knew what else. Those poor unfortunate Crevazi had no idea what they were dealing with.
"I would appreciate it if for once you would allow me to fly as I wish and instead spend your considerable energies on shooting down those Darts?" The pilot suggested.
"You're going to do that dive thing when you see how close we can get to the ground without exploding again aren't you?"
"Possibly."
"Shezzghen." The gunner observed.
"Naturally."
The ship dropped from the sky. The Darts screamed overhead as the 'jumper span in a tight circle and streaked back in the opposite direction, drones flying out behind them. The pilot beamed, of course he was happy, the shockwaves from the exploding Darts were practically knocking them off course.
"How many?" The pilot asked sharply.
"Five, two of them are beginning to turn round."
"Excellent."
"You really are a blood-thirsty lot." The gunner commented.
"You fire the drones."
The jumper swerved wildly to the left, making Meredith swear in a particularly inventive fashion and the gunner accuse the pilot of trying to murder them all.
"Do you have any idea how fast you're going?!"
"Of course."
"You can't get us through the 'gate like this!"
"You say that every time."
"You're going to get us all KILLED!"
"Your conversation is remarkably repetitive." The pilot observed. "How fast can you re-dial the 'gate after we are through?"
"How fast can you turn round?" The gunner snapped.
"Excellent."
The pilot frowned intently at the Stargate, already dialled up; the other 'jumpers must have swung around and beat them through it, probably at a far more sensible speed. But then they wouldn't have had five Darts firing at them as they approached. Still, though he would never have admitted it to the gunner the pilot did think that the 'gate was approaching at a rather alarming speed. He gritted his teeth. It would be difficult, with half a degree and a handful of millimetres making the difference between getting home safely and an admittedly quick if rather showy death. He wouldn't have had it any other way.
The 'jumper zoomed through the event horizon with a precision surgeons dream of. The worm-hole collapsed behind it.
oOo
They slowed and steered round at a far more reasonable pace. The pilot let go of the controls for the first time that day and turned to smirk at the gunner and the crew in general.
"You will notice that we are once again, not all dead."
"No thanks to you."
"Oh and I suppose you could have found another way to-"
"I think he's coming round." Meredith interrupted. She had learnt from long experience that if they weren't interrupted the crew would spend entirely too much time arguing on this way-station of an empty world.
The gunner frowned. "Why was he using a rifle?"
"Perhaps," Don suggested. "It was all he had."
They were silent for a time staring at their, for the most part unwanted, passenger. He stirred groggily, the stilted jerks of someone coming round too fast from an argument with a stunner. He opened his eyes.
"Are you well anixcus?" Don enquired.
The man's eyes widened and he screamed. "HYBRIDS!!!"
The crew froze. Meredith reached for her knife.
"What did you call him?" She asked in a tone that tried to be conversational and came out as the proverbial lion addressing the lamb.
He screamed again and tried to scramble back towards the hatch. He tripped over his own lax limbs.
"What did you call him?!" Meredith repeated, knife edging out of its sheath.
"Put it away." Don sighed.
"But he just called you a hezzacx CREVAZI!"
The soldier snorted. "Ignorance isn't a sin, and there are few of us-that he would have come into contact with. I am surprised he has the experience necessary to recognise his own species in this part of the galaxy."
He turned to their passenger with a pitying look. "We are not Kenmore's vermin, nor are we allied to him. Quite the opposite in fact."
"You're-"
Don held up his right hand and smiled. "Do you truly not know?"
The man's eyes darted from Don's face, his pale skin and short hair to his oversized clothing, a mismatch of old Lantean gear, Athosian and…something else. He squinted for a moment at the soldier's palm, then understanding dawned, his eyes widened.
"Wraith?!" It came out as an incredulous whisper.
The pilot sighed. "Correct. Now you will sit still and be quiet imdezzca because you have already caused a considerable amount of trouble, my ship-mate here that you have so offended saved your miserable life, and you are delaying our departure. If you continue to make life complicated for us I shall break the atmosphere and throw you out of the airlock." He glanced to the gunner for confirmation.
"Seconded." He replied without hesitation. "Dial her up and lets get out of here."
The Stargate sparked into life.
oOo