51: Day of Infamy

There were squads on their way to the control chair room. John could hear their chatter on the radio he carried, and he kept an ear out for it as he led Jonas, Elsie and the others through the corridors of Atlantis. From what he could tell, things were getting a little chaotic out there, and the troopers were meeting some resistance at the control chair room itself. The door had been sealed shut from the inside, although they were working on a way to get it open. Whoever was in there, be it Daniel or McKay or Teal'c, only had minutes left before the enemy was upon them. Such a thought spurred John on a little faster, even in his increasingly tired state, the muscles in his legs sore since the mission to Dalabrai. And yet he pushed on through the pain, gritting his teeth before rounding a corner and coming upon another of the city's familiar, wide corridors, complete with elaborate copper-coloured columns in the centre.

The control chair room was further ahead, the entrance shut. About half a dozen security troopers were gathered around it, with one of them setting charges upon the door. However, the work was interrupted when one of the guards standing watch partway down the corridor sighted the intruders, letting out a shout of warning before scrambling for cover.

John hosed this guard down with submachine gun fire as he approached. Elsie and Jonas spread out to either side of the corridor, with Gunnery Sergeant Cortman and Lieutenant Hudson taking position towards the centre. The guard that John hit went sprawling upon the corridor floor, with the others at the door turning about to face their enemies. Weapons barked, muzzles flared and another two of the guards were cut down. Cortman darted behind a column as a volley of rifle fire struck the sides of it, sparks flying. John threw himself to the floor, allowing his momentum to slide him along several feet, his MPX levelled as he went and finger on the trigger. Another of the guards was struck by his fire, twitching and jerking about in that unusual dance as bullets tore through his torso and blood spurted.

John jumped up, watching as a guard off to his left levelled his gun and went to fire at him. However, part of the guard's head exploded, the crack of a rifle sounding throughout the corridor. Blood splattered across the wall behind him, with his body unceremoniously crumpling into a heap upon the floor. John spun about, catching sight of Elsie several metres back down the corridor with her gun up and a small smirk at her lips. Her aim was truer than most, it seemed, not to mention her reaction time.

The last guard turned and darted off, bolting down the corridor. John went to fire at him, but his gun was empty. With a frustrated huff, he ejected the empty magazine and went to shove another one in. However, he was out of magazines altogether. He dropped the submachine gun to the floor, freeing up his hands such that he could pull out his sidearm, a Para-Ordnance P-14, chambered in the reliable .45 ACP cartridge. However, by the time the gun was out and cocked, the guard had disappeared around the corner, likely having figured that his employers were not worth dying for.

An uneasy silence fell upon the corridor then. John looked to his team, seeing that they were all right, before he approached the door. It was rigged to blow, fitted with about four explosive charges that had been rigged to a single detonator. That detonator, he noticed, was clasped in the hand of one of the fallen guards. He pried it from the guard's cold, dead fingers before he eyed the switch upon it, and then the explosives attached to the door. That door was sealed, and a quick check of the control pad next to it confirmed as much.

John used the hilt of his pistol to knock loudly upon the door.

"Daniel? Teal'c? You in there?" His voice would likely be muffled through the other side, but if they were in there and listening closely then they should be able to hear him, if faintly. There followed a pause, before John tried again. "Daniel, it's Colonel Sheppard. Open up if you're in there."

"John?" Daniel sounded both surprised and relieved. His voice was audible, if a little faint. Nonetheless, he must have been standing close to the door itself. "John, is that you?"

"We got your message." John looked back at the others, who had gathered a few paces behind him.

"You did?"

"Is McKay in there with you?" John supposed that Daniel was being cautious, understandably so. For all he knew, this could be an elaborate trick.

"No. Teal'c's with me, but we got separated from Rodney."

So, that was someone else to search for. McKay could be in the city somewhere, running or hiding as he often did in the face of serious trouble. Either that, or he could very well be dead for all they knew. It was a downbeat line of thinking, but a realistic one at that.

"Can you open the door?" John asked, leaning close to it as to ensure he was heard loud and clear through the metal alloy.

"Not really." Daniel sounded a little uncomfortable. "I mean, we sort of wrecked the controls. There might be a manual release somewhere, but I wouldn't know where."

"They've got the door wired," John said. "I could blow it." He did not like the idea of doing further damage to the city, but sometimes one had to do things they did not like in order to achieve the mission objectives. Rescuing Daniel and Teal'c was among those objectives.

"Blow the door?" Daniel seemed to consider it for a moment. "And if the bad guys come back…"

"We'll barricade it if we have to," John suggested, even though he thought it unlikely the guards would return. They had already neutralised a whole bunch of them, and with Aithris and the others no doubt wreaking havoc in the operations centre it seemed that the security forces here had bigger concerns. "Look, you want out of there or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Just give us a minute to get clear." John heard some movement behind the door, footsteps and voices as both Daniel and Teal'c exchanged words. After about twenty seconds of moving about, there came a shout, reduced in volume by the door between them: "All right, John. Do it."

John turned to his team again, motioning them to get back and take cover. Detonator in hand, he checked the wires between it and the explosive charges, making sure all were connected and armed. With the team having moved further back down the corridor, taking cover behind columns and in neighbouring rooms, John ducked behind a column himself and covered his ears. With a flick, he hit the switch upon the detonator. A sudden and abrupt thump resounded throughout the corridor. It was loud, even more so within the confines of the hallway, echoing about the walls for an extended moment. Pieces of the metal door were strewn about the corridor, smoke pluming from where it had once stood. John dropped the detonator and slowly rose to his feet, waving away some of the drifting smoke that lingered around in the wake of the explosion.

The doorway was clear now, and from within he saw two familiar figures appear: Daniel came out first, dressed in somewhat casual wear, among them a light brown jacket that bared a few scuff marks and tears as to indicate the trouble he had been through the past several hours. Teal'c followed, dressed in a set of SGC cargo pants and a plain black top. Both carried guns, and both appeared relieved that help had arrived. Even Teal'c managed a grateful nod in John's direction as both he and Daniel approached.

"I didn't think our message made it out," Daniel said, stopping a few paces ahead of John.

"Well, I suppose you can thank Rodney that it got out," John replied. "You have any idea where he is?"

Daniel shook his head.

"No, we got separated a while ago. That was in an entirely different section of the city." He paused, gaze drifting over to the others. He recognized Jonas, who offered him a friendly smile. "New team, John?"

"Sort of. The others are headed for the control room."

Daniel's eyes narrowed when he heard this. His expression had suddenly turned grave, and John found himself frowning in turn.

"Something the matter, Daniel?"

"It's just we met someone up there," Daniel explained. "One of the people behind all of this. We had an interesting conversation." From the way he added emphasis upon the word 'interesting', John surmised that they had a lot to discuss, as well as some answers in response to some of the problems they had been having these past eighteen months.

"You can tell me all about it later." John looked past him and into the room beyond. He recognized the control chair immediately. "You saved our asses, shutting off those drones."

"And you saved our asses now, so I guess we're all even."

John's communications earpiece activated then, and he heard Aithris' voice come through. The Nomad's tones were hard-edged, and they suggested straight away to John that they had another problem.

"Colonel, can you hear me?"

John put a finger to the piece at his ear, opening his end of the channel.

"Yeah, go ahead, Aithris."

"We just ran into a problem."

"What else is new?" John could see that the others on the team were listening in.

"The man in charge of this place more or less told us there's going to be an attack," Aithris explained. "And the long-range sensors up here in the control room are picking up something large headed for Earth. I think it's on its way to Anchorpoint station."

Anchorpoint. John thought about the name for a moment, recalling what he had been briefed concerning the newfangled orbital dockyard that Homeworld Command had commissioned for construction. General Janssen had told him of a commissioning ceremony, although John had not bothered to keep up with the news surrounding that place. It was then that he remembered that the ceremony was supposed to be happening today.

"And the man in charge?" John asked.

"He's dead, Colonel." So, the one person John had intended to interrogate here was no longer in any shape to talk. He supposed that should not have come as a surprise.

"Anchorpoint?" Jonas, who had been listening in, perked up then. "That ceremony's got every one of Earth's ships in the one place. If there's an attack…"

"It'll be bad," John finished, and now the pieces were finally falling together.

"We also ran into some kind of creature," Aithris added. "Some kind of energy being encased in an organic shell. No idea what it was, but it almost killed me."

"We'll talk more about that later. What I need is information. How far off is this contact from Earth's orbit?" Another problem to add to the growing list. First a shady group had Atlantis parked on the moon, then the imminent attack on Anchorpoint and now another alien monstrosity to deal with. It seemed the trouble was never-ending.

"Minutes, at most. If it's not in weapons range now, it will be any moment."

"We know Atlantis has drones," John stated out loud, the wheels turning quickly in his mind. "I'm going to need every bit of information we have on whatever's out there." He stuck his pistol into his waist holster and strode into the control chair room. The others followed, and from what he could tell at least a few of them knew what he intended. Elsie, however, appeared a little confused.

"What's the plan, sir?" She asked him. John paused before the elaborate Ancient-designed chair, reminded of the times he had used it before, nearly always at a point when they had been in dire trouble.

"I'm flying this city out of here," John said, and he turned about and sat down within the chair. Immediately it hummed into life, the back of it lighting up with a mild, blue-tinted glow. Even the floor around it became illuminated, as the various systems all about the city began to interface with the newly arrived controller, blessed as they were with the Ancient gene.

"And us?" Jonas asked.

"Stick around or scour the city. We need to find McKay and we need to clear out any stragglers." He looked to Elsie. "Lieutenant, you're in charge. Take a few others with you and start searching the city. You might start with hooking up with Aithris in the control room."

"Sir?" Elsie frowned, unsure of what to make of this latest plan of action.

"Daniel and Teal'c will stay with me and keep an eye out," John said. "Now get moving, Lieutenant. We haven't got the time for uncertainty." He had to concentrate. As he thought this, he felt the chair lean backwards somewhat, giving him a view of the ceiling above. However, his senses were elsewhere, connected as they were to the city as a whole. It was almost an extension of himself, albeit a three-mile wide one brimming with advanced systems. Among those were the engines, the 'star-drive', and it was those he honed in on, doing so quickly. A newcomer to the control chair might have had trouble shutting out the general 'noise' of the city's many parts, but John had the experience necessary to control his connection. And it was through this practice he found the engines, dormant for years, and with that he brought them to life once again.


The engines nestled into the base of the vast city-ship burst into life. Sitting snugly against the grey, dusty surface of the moon, there blossomed forth a massive, swirling cloud that spread out for some distance around the city-ship's base as it finally, after several years, rose from its place upon the lunar surface. The sensation of movement within the city was greatly reduced by the inertial dampeners, but Aithris was near a window and as such he could watch firsthand as the city began to rise.

He was in a corridor adjoining the operations centre. He moved along it, followed by Natalia, searching the outlying areas from the operations centre in order to ensure there were no hostiles lurking about. The corridor, lined with windows at one side that provided an ample view of the inner city, ended at an automatic double door that slid open upon a balcony. It was a somewhat disorienting sight, to step out into what should have been a near airless, gravity-free open space. However, the city's shield kept the atmosphere within and its artificial gravity systems remained functional, allowing the pair to walk out into the open 'air' with nary a risk to themselves. Here, they paused for a moment, stopping before the guardrail as to look across the city and to the lunar surface beyond. A surface that was rapidly falling away, becoming replaced with the starry, black void all around. Far off in the distance lay Earth, a small blue-white ball against the black. And the sun, even further distant, blazing a brilliance that was only amplified by the lack of actual atmosphere around the moon. The shield, again, nullified any harmful effects. Nonetheless, Aithris found himself squinting against the glare, and he turned to Natalia, who appeared somewhat in awe of the view.

"It has its own strange beauty, does it not?" Aithris asked her. She met his gaze and smiled, nodding his head.

"Makes me feel kind of small."

"It's best not to think of it that way," Aithris said. "More that we each have our own place in the grand scheme of it all, and that we are all unique, in some way. And that for a universe as vast as this to be full of such unique beings is a wonder in itself." He smiled, savouring this moment of respite. Leaning upon the rail, he felt one of her hands finds its way upon his own. Her calloused fingers were almost as rough as his own. He had the benefit of the regenerating nanotechnology in his system, so such gradual wear and tear came upon him much slower than it did for a human.

The moon dropped away from them at an alarmingly fast rate. John was flying the ship to the limits of its sub-light engines. Aithris, fingers of one hand intertwined with Natalia's own, found himself watching the blue globe of the Earth rapidly increase in size. They would be there soon, but would it be soon enough?

"We should go," Aithris said suddenly, releasing her hand from his grasp. "We still have business to attend to."

Natalia nodded in agreement. Aithris started along the exterior walkway, crossing it to another door that slid open as he approached. Natalia followed, and the pair readied their weapons and moved into the next room with their gazes and guns sweeping the interior, searching for threats. None were apparent. However, it was at that moment the earpiece in Aithris' ear came to life, and through it he heard a man's voice:

"Can anyone out there hear me?" He sounded panicked. Aithris, now inside another corridor, paused partway down. Natalia could hear the same voice, and she turned to him, a mix of curiosity and caution playing across her features.

"Rodney? Is that you?" John's voice cut in then. The other man, whom Aithris surmised was Doctor Rodney McKay, breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"John, John, you got my message."

"Yeah, we got it. Where are you?" Even John sounded a little relieved. From what Aithris understood, he and McKay had been friends and had worked closely together during the Atlantis expedition. McKay had also gone off the deep end at some point and become a recluse. Evidently, Daniel had succeeded in finding him.

"I'm in an outlying building, connected to the central tower. I need help." He added this last part quickly, and Aithris noticed that his voice sounded somewhat hushed.

"Which way?"

"East, not far from where the botanical lab was. It's just that I've got something following me, and I think you're going to need to bring the big guns for it." He paused, and his voice dropped to a frantic whisper, only just audible over the line. "He's close, I know he is. Get over here fast, please. And bring the big guns, the really big guns." Now his voice was starting to rise into something more panicked. Aithris could practically feel the fear emanating off of him, as if it permeated the line of communication itself.

"Colonel, Natalia and I are closer to where he mentioned."

"Go on, Aithris. I can't go when I'm needed to fly this thing." John sounded regretful, and he was no doubt having some trouble concentrating on both the call and on flying the vast city-ship.

"Who is that?" McKay's voice again. He had heard Aithris and was no doubt confused as to who he was now speaking to.

"A friend of Colonel Sheppard's." There was no time for detailed explanations. "Keep the line open, Doctor McKay. We're on our way."

"I'll try, but this thing, I think it's right outside…" Suddenly, the line went dead. Aithris frowned, exchanging worried glances with Natalia. He had been about to ask McKay just what it was he was being pursued by, but evidently the opportunity had come and gone. He started running down the corridor, with Natalia following closely behind. McKay needed help, and he very much needed it quickly. Aithris had memorised the city layouts enough to have a good idea as to where they were going, although getting there before McKay met an unfortunate end was another matter entirely.


The mystery ship was closing in on the station. It all happened very quickly, and Cameron was startled by the progress it made in the few minutes they had had before its 'arrival'. Banachek had since gone down to the hall to try and put their guests at ease, not that it was helping much judging from what Cameron could see on the surveillance feeds accessible from the control centre. A lot of panicked running about, agitated shouting and general chaos reigned within the main hall and surrounding amenities. Some of the representatives were forcing their way for the docking tubes, although there were not enough actual shuttles available to take them all off of the station. Plenty of escape pods, of course, and Cameron sent word along the PA that the guests should proceed to those areas, with him ensuring that the various terminals about the ship changed to display a helpful map that made the locations of such escape pods obvious.

The docked cruisers were still yet to take off. The crews were scrambling, but they were going to be cutting it close. Cameron monitored all of this from the command centre, a growing sense of dread in his gut as he watched the general disorganization of it all. Banachek had pressed for this get-together before the proper protocols had been in place. The station did not even have all of its guns installed yet, and the few they did have were not likely to be enough to fight off, well, whatever it was that was coming towards them. He could see the ship on the scanner feeds now, all sleek and black and charged with violet energy that suggested a great power concealed within. It was unlike anything he had seen before, and the sight of it only added further unease. Just what the hell was that thing and why was it after them?

Woolsey was still here in the command centre. Cameron turned to him, surprised to see the bureaucrat was standing his ground.

"You should get down to the escape pods," Cameron told him. "Better not to take any chances."

"I'd prefer to stay here with you, General, and assist wherever I can." The statement was delivered earnestly, and Cameron was again surprised. Woolsey had certainly changed over the years, and his stint as leader of the Atlantis expedition had no doubt caused much of that change.

"You do as you please, Dick, but if this station goes down, then chances are I'll be going down with it."

"Don't be so quick to jump to that conclusion, General. We don't even know if that ship is hostile."

As if on cue, one of the officers nearby shouted a warning: "That ship's powering up, sir!"

Cameron turned back around to watch the scanner feed on the main view-screen, startled by the sheer volume of light that suddenly blossomed from the end of the vaguely cylindrical vessel. A beam of pure purple energy lanced forth, cutting through the black of space like a white-hot knife, and it slammed into the shields of the station with enough force to cause the entire construct to rattle violently. The shields held, if barely, and warning lights started flashing from multiple terminals around the command centre.

"Damage?" Cameron yelled. The ship's beam had ceased after several seconds, and it was no doubt charging up to fire again. As for how long they had, he doubted it was more than a moment, as the energy was positively crackling across the mystery vessel's hull.

"Shields are holding, but they won't take another hit like that. I'm detecting overloads in a number of systems." The bridge officer looked up, eyes wide with worry. Fear was spreading, something that was just as likely to kill them as the mystery ship. Cameron stepped forwards, seeing that all eyes in the room were now on him.

"I want every gun we have unloading on that thing," Cameron said. "Maybe we can distract it enough to allow the non-essential personnel to escape." He turned to Woolsey again, seeing the smallest trace of uncertainty upon the man's ageing features. "Now's probably the time to leave, if you're going to. I won't think any less of you for it."

"I'll stay, General. I have confidence we'll beat this thing." How confident, it was hard to tell. It cannot have been a great deal, as Woolsey's resolve had faltered slightly. Nonetheless, he was putting up a strong front.

"Sir, the Cromwell is pulling away." The British Royal Navy-run cruiser was one of the several ships docked with Anchorpoint. Cameron watched it through one of the feeds, the grey hulk unmooring itself from the docking platform with a hiss of decompressed air. The ship's guns were already firing, missiles and rail gun rounds darting through the vacuum, appearing on the feed like fast-moving fireflies zipping through the dark. It was putting itself out of Anchorpoint's shield radius in order to get a more effective firing solution. That meant that mystery ship had two separate targets instead of one big one.

Cameron watched on another feed as the mystery vessel shifted to face this breakaway target, with the Cromwell going hard on the sub-light engines as it skirted around the right flank of the approaching hostile. And as it moved, that brilliant violet beam fired again, slamming into the cruiser's rear port-side, the shields around it flaring with an equal brilliance before they suddenly fizzled out in a flash of light. The beam shut off a split second after the shields failed, causing some of that searing energy to break through and obliterate the port-side engines. Fire blossomed forth, albeit briefly as the oxygen that fed it dissipated in the surrounding vacuum. White smoke poured from the damaged engine and the cruiser's previously surefooted path around the flank was suddenly halted.

"General, there are dozens more smaller contacts coming off of that hostile vessel," another of the bridge officers called. Cameron could see them on the scanner, a swarm of new red blips that came racing towards the station. Fighters or bombers of some variety, and Cameron caught a glimpse of one on another scanner feed: it had to be about the size of a Goa'uld alkesh bomber, comprised of the same shimmering black material as the mothership. The front was shaped like a pincer and the rear glowed with purple energy. The general shape was somewhat ovular, with the outer hull carrying no real indicating marks of any kind. No emblem, no flag, nothing. There was no discernible cockpit amongst the black, as if to top off the mystery.

"Guns, all of them, on those fighters." Anchorpoint's rail guns and missile batteries had been firing at the hostile vessel for a good minute, although only about half of the emplacements on the station were loaded and ready to go. The weapons had had little effect on the bulk of the vast ship, and now they turned to the incoming swarm of hostile fighters. Those fighters let fly with similar energy beams as carried by the mothership, albeit on a smaller scale. Several of these beams connected with the station's shields, and with a sudden flash of dispelled energy that shield was gone.

A few of the other docked cruisers were now firing their guns. They remained docked for the time being, no doubt short on crew members given the chaos on the decks below. Cameron felt somewhat powerless here, watching a battle unfold from within the command centre. Warning alarms were sounding now, and damage was being detected on some of the outlying sections of the station, affected by the shield overload and the sheer amount of energy the beam had brought with it. Not only that, but the enemy fighters were now swarming the station, and he watched through one of the feeds as one let fly with a pair of brilliant, searing spheres of light that slammed into a docking arm and tore it apart.

The entire station shook violently then, and Cameron watched the wide, supposedly sturdily built docking platform tear itself away from the body of the station. He saw the initial rushes of air as decompression hit a number of corridors, before atmospheric shields or bulkheads slammed home to contain it. And the arm slowly floated off of the rest of the station, torn and ragged metal where it had once been connected. Still connected was the French cruiser, the De Gaulle. That was the next thing to get hit by the fighters, struck with a cluster of beams that sliced into its hull, tore through corridors and sent decompression racing through several decks.

The Cromwell had swung around to use its own beam weapon against the hostile ship. Based upon an Asgard design, the forward-mounted energy beam was the most powerful thing fitted to the cruiser, and it blazed into life as Cameron continued to watch the battle unfold. The beam slammed into the hull of the mystery ship, which had now closed upon the station in all its shimmering, eerily black glory. The blue-white beam visibly heated the hull, yet the energy seemed to become absorbed into the shifting hull itself, dispelled across a larger section. And then, seconds later, the beam stopped, its power cells falling into a recharge state.

The De Gaulle erupted then from within, the naquadria-drive at its heart overloading. The explosion was massive, tearing the ship into two, its middle disappearing in a bright eruption of yellow and white fire. Unlike the oxygen-based fires that faded quickly in the vacuum, this naquadria-enhanced detonation glowed for several seconds, filling the scanner feed with its brilliance, before it finally faded into little more than a small, smouldering point of white light that, after a further moment, finally disappeared. Amongst the floating wreck of the docking arm lay the ruins of the cruiser, now a mess of mangled metal and debris.

"Sir, the Sun Tzu is reporting critical damage. The crew are already attempting to evacuate." The voice of the bridge officer drew Cameron out of his thoughts, as did the station rattling once more around them. They were being hammered by the attack craft now, whilst the main vessel seemed to content itself with picking off the BC-304 cruisers still dotted about the station's docking arms. It was targeting them specifically, and Cameron had no doubt in his mind that the mystery vessel had come here with the intention of putting an end to Earth's fleet of ships.

The station shook again. More warning lights flashed on various terminals. A panel on a wall off to the left suddenly exploded off of its housing, sparks flying as a conduit overloaded. A small fire erupted from within, only for an attending command centre officer to rush over with a fire extinguisher. Pressing the extinguisher's handle, a spout of white smoke gushed forth and smothered the fire in seconds.

"You know what, Dick?" Cameron glanced at Woolsey, who had come to stand a short distance off to his right. "I don't know if we're going to win this one."

As they watched, another of the docked cruisers was torn in half by the hostile vessel's main beam. Part of the docking arm went with it, and this time it was enough to cause the station itself to tilt dangerously. The whole construct was locked in a delicate gravitational dance with the Earth below. If they were shaken around enough, they might very well go crashing down along with the other wrecks. Even now, some of the debris was beginning to fall to Earth, burning up in the atmosphere. Given the materials these ships were made from, it seemed likely much of that debris would make it to the ground.

They had to stop these attackers. If they took out the cruisers and the station, then they would have nothing between them and Earth. Cameron felt the station shake again, and upon feeling this latest blast he finally gave the order he had hoped he would not need to give:

"We're abandoning the station," he declared. "Everybody, up and out of here. Get to the escape pods." Cameron moved for the commander's chair. The other command centre officers looked to him, taken aback by the order. "Now, people. Get out of here."

Like the dutiful soldiers they were, they rose from their places and filed out of the command centre. Woolsey sidled up alongside Cameron again, seemingly intent on remaining here.

"Go on, Richard. Get out of here."

"You're not seriously thinking of going down with the ship, are you?" Woolsey quirked an eyebrow, curious. He seemed unfazed by the gradually crumbling space-station around them.

"I'm going to do whatever I can until the last possible second," Cameron said. "You don't need to be here."

"But I'm here, General. I can help."

Cameron saw there would be no arguing where Woolsey was concerned. With a sigh, he motioned for the nearby weapons control station.

"Get on those gun controls. See if you can't get the gun platforms performing a little better." It seemed fruitless, as their weapons had so far proven ineffective. Nonetheless, it was all they could do, at least until that one solid hit that finally put an end to Anchorpoint station. Cameron put that thought out of his mind for now, and instead went to monitoring the evacuation from the terminal by the commander's chair. As long as everyone else made it off of this station, then he would be content.