53: A City Falls
"General Mitchell, this is the Odyssey. Can you hear me?" The male voice broke through the comms system within Anchorpoint's control room. Cameron recognized it, as he had met the current commander of the Odyssey a few times before. Major Neil Ramsay had been in command of that ship for about two years now and ,to Cameron at least, he struck him as an able officer. It was a surprise to hear his voice amongst the chaos, and Cameron focused in on it, flicking a switch at his terminal to open a channel.
"Major Ramsay, what do you need?" More alarms were sounding around the command centre. Smoke poured in through a ruptured pipeline in the ceiling, sparks erupted from another panel blow out and a small fire raged in one corner. Woolsey, the only other person in the command centre, hurried for the fire with one of the small extinguishers scattered around intended to put out such blazes. He had been working at the weapons control terminal previously, although most of the station's rail guns had been rendered inoperable by accurate enemy fire. The attack crafts were making short work of them, and the station itself was coming apart at the seams. A few minutes more and there would be no Anchorpoint station left. Cameron had since accepted his fate of going down with the ship, yet there was always that small kernel of hope that something would happen to prevent it.
The Odyssey had been out on patrol when this attack had started. Major Ramsay would be in a better position than the other cruisers (those that remained, anyway). Cameron saw the Odyssey appear on the scanner screen, the scanners themselves still functional for the most part. At the same time, Woolsey blasted the growing electrical fire with chemical dust, dousing it immediately.
"You, sir. We're in range to beam you out. No use going down with that tin can." He no doubt was referring to Anchorpoint. Made in a hurry and on the cheap, it was perhaps no surprise that the 'tin can' was coming apart so readily.
"You're risking your ship, Major."
"We've got a small window. I can beam you in right now, but you have to give me the word within the next twenty seconds. We're detecting multiple hull breaches across the station."
Cameron knew all about those. The many warnings flashing about the displays within the command centre made it clear that the place was falling to pieces.
"I've got another man in here with me…" He glanced over to Woolsey, who looked his way with worried eyes and sweat beading visibly upon his forehead.
"We've got a lock on his signal too, sir. Now, just give us the order." Chances are he would beam them out regardless, so Cameron gave them the go-ahead. Right away, both he and Woolsey were doused in a shimmering white light, fading from the command centre and rematerializing upon the bridge of the Odyssey. Like most of their cruisers, the layout was not too dissimilar to that of a naval vessel, albeit somewhat more streamlined, with the commander's chair dead in the centre and flanked by two other positions taken up with the ship's second and third-in-command respectively.
Major Neil Ramsay was a forty-something man with crewcut hair and a clean-shaven complexion. He had severe eyes, at least at that moment, and he regarded the two new arrivals with a slight frown. As soon as they were firmly on board, he turned to the officer manning the helm console to his left.
"Helm, get us out of here. Full flank." There were no ifs and buts about it: they were retreating. Cameron looked about the bridge, turning around to direct his gaze at the sturdy glass viewport at the front-end of the ship. He could see Anchorpoint far off in the distance, surrounded by wrecks and debris, explosions erupting around it as fighters engaged one another. And, as he watched, the central structure of the station seemed to crumple into itself, the integrity of it all finally failing after the sustained intake of damage. Atmosphere vented all throughout, fires petering out as they were rapidly deprived of oxygen. The central structure essentially tore itself in half, with explosions flashing across its halfway point, rending metal and tearing the entire thing asunder.
"We were going to pull you out of there, whether or not you wanted to go down with the ship," Ramsay said from behind him.
"You got back from your patrol?"
"As soon as we got word there was an attack, we hurried on back." Ramsay shook his head slowly. From his left, he pulled out a small computer tablet and he held it out to Cameron. The Brigadier General took it into his hands, glancing at the information displayed upon it. A record of every ship lost, using what the Odyssey's sensors had picked up.
"That's just what we've gleamed so far," Ramsay said. "Unless you give the order, General, I will not risk this ship and its crew in a hopeless fight."
"That thing will attack Earth." It was Woolsey who said this, turning away from the viewport to glare at the Major. "We have to do something."
"You saw how it tore into our fleet. We need to regroup and plan a coordinated strike."
Ramsay had a point, but they also had no time to do what he said. They needed to stop that ship, whatever it was, and they needed to do it now.
"Sir, there's something else." The officer at the sensor console looked up, turning to the Major. She had a bemused look on her face, as if she could not make sense of the readings she was getting. "Another object, more than three miles in diameter. It's on a rapid approach vector. It'll be upon that hostile ship in the next thirty seconds."
"What is it?" Cameron stepped over to the sensor console, eyeing the display, which was in turn transferred to the main screen ahead of them.
"It's Atlantis, sir." The officer looked stunned. Ramsay, however, took it all in stride with nary a change to his stern expression.
"All right, so maybe we don't need to retreat. Not just yet."
"We've got about a dozen bogeys incoming," the officer announced. A number of red blips appeared on the readouts, honing in quickly upon the Odyssey. "They'll be in weapons range in twenty seconds."
"Scramble fighters. Ready the rail guns, defensive firing solutions." Red lights started to flash about the ship, with an alarm wailing once to signify the change to battle-stations. Cameron looked to the readout, watching the approach of the enemy for a few seconds, before he looked right at Ramsay with as determined a face as he could muster.
"If you don't mind, Major, but I'd like to lead the attack wing." It had been a long time since he had been behind the controls of an F-302. The Major frowned, if only slightly, no doubt surprised by the General's request.
"We usually like to keep our General's out of harm's way."
"We're all in harm's way right now, and you need all the pilots you can get. I'm a pilot, I know my way around an F-302."
"We've got the 306s on board the Odyssey, General."
"Even better. You command from here, I'll lead the wing." He started for the exit, and the Major did nothing to stop him. After all, Cameron was the General here, so Ramsay could do little to dissuade him from taking flight. Woolsey followed him to the exit, eyes wide with genuine fear for his safety.
"Cameron, are you sure you want to go out there?" Woolsey asked him, right as they came upon the bridge's exit door. It slid open, and before Cameron went on ahead, he turned to Woolsey and looked him right in the eyes.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he stated, before he turned back around and started down the hall. Now he could truly do something to turn the tide of this battle, instead of sitting back and watching it happen, watching others die for him. He was beginning to think that being promoted to Brigadier General had been the worst thing to happen to him in some time.
Anchorpoint station was torn apart, battered by the smaller attack ships. The capital vessel caught another beam on its broadsides from one of the remaining cruisers, with the energy dispersing across its shimmering black hull, as if it was being absorbed. John could see this through the city's many sensors, and he noticed with some interest that the rail gun rounds were being deflected, rather than absorbed. Not surprising, but it seemed to indicate that the enemy ship's hull was more responsive to raw energy rather than concussive force.
The cruiser received the hostile vessel's beam weapon down its centre, with the shields flaring and failing, the beam itself following on through by burning away the front end of the ship. That took with it the bridge and everyone on it, with what was left of it drifting off course. Another one down, and another one John intended to avenge. The strange alien ship, the sight of which seemed to invoke some deep-seated revulsion within John, was cutting through their fleet like butter.
The Odyssey was still active, sitting at the edge of the battle. John could see the small attack ships headed its way, like little mean black crabs with energy beams. He could do little to help the Odyssey for now, and so he set his attention upon the capital ship.
That was when its beam fired again, and this time it directed it towards the Earth's surface. It sliced through the vacuum and seared on through the upper atmosphere with ease, hitting the ocean somewhere within the Pacific before burning its way through the water. John could not determine exactly where the damage was being done, for his focus was entirely upon this ship and Atlantis' weapons. All he needed was to hit weapons range…
And there it was. The relief he felt when he let fly with the Ancient drones was tremendous. And almost immediately, the alien vessel deactivated its beam and began to swing around to face the latest threat. Drones, brilliant yellow orbs that lit up all around them, spilled out of the city-ship's heart in a continuous stream. John guided them towards the alien vessel, and he imagined in his mind the drones plunging deep into its core and ripping it apart from within.
That was when he sensed that the many smaller attack ships were now disengaging. They were headed to Earth, as if sensing the imminent destruction of their mothership. How much damage would they do, before they were stopped? Another problem, but one slightly lower on his list of priorities. The capital ship needed to be taken out first, and he watched as the first of the drones struck against its hull, ripping through it.
The alien ship's beam fired again, and this time it slammed into the shields protecting Atlantis. John almost felt the impact, could almost feel the sheer intense heat coming off of it. The shields were struggling against the beam, and John started diverting further power from the less essential systems to keep them powered up. He just needed a little more time, and more drones. Those drones continued to flow out of the city ship, darting their way for the hostile vessel. The entire complement was being deployed, all upon the one target. And it was a tough target, somehow keeping together even as more and more of the drones began to rip into it.
Another beam lanced forth, and this one hit the weakened shields hard enough to bleed right on through the protective shell. Heat washed across the eastern pier, warping and melting metal, levelling entire structures and sending alarms throughout the city. John's hands clenched tightly upon the armrests of the control chair, all while Daniel and Jonas and Teal'c watched on, feeling the entire city shake around them as the beam cut through much of the eastern pier. Daniel hurried over to a terminal at the wall, watching the warnings flash up and the readouts pour in from across the city. The damage was bad, but so far localised to only one wing of the city. Another hit like that, however, and they would be much worse off.
"His vitals are spiking," Daniel said aloud, eyeing the vital signs monitor that formed part of the terminal's screen.
"He's giving the city everything he has," Jonas muttered, watching on with mounting concern. Again, the city shook around them, and the lights dimmed for a moment as power fluctuated. And yet, he could do little else but watch and hope that John succeeded. A frustrating place to be in, but so far the only one open to him.
"And if he keeps it up, he could burn out his synapses," Daniel added, somewhat more shortly this time. "He's got to pull back his connection, rein it in. Otherwise, he'll become so attuned to the city he's going to feel every bit of damage it takes."
John was in an almost entirely different world as the others spoke around him. The city ship was slowing down, the damage it had taken causing at least one of the underside star-drive engines to sputter and fluctuate. Fires were burning in multiple sections, and with a thought John vented atmosphere in the affected areas. Bulkheads had fallen into place over those spots that were now exposed to vacuum, ensuring that those inside the city did not suffocate. And then there was the alien vessel, taking a beating just like the city was, with blue-tinged flames seeping off of it, burning freely in vacuum for they were not oxygen-fuelled fires. More of the Ancient-made drones pounded into it, boring through its thick, shifting hull. Some were stopped as the hull itself adapted around the intrusions, but the onslaught was simply too much for it, and John could practically feel the vessel's interior start to come apart.
Still, it was able to fire its beam again. This time it cut into the city's heart, striking at the central section and cutting a burning swathe through the outlying structures, with part of the central tower taking damage. John could feel his connection to the city waver, yet it did not matter, for something gave way within the alien vessel that caused it to come apart from within. He watched it through the city's sensors, saw the way in which a white brilliance erupted from within, enveloping the ship and vaporising so much of it in a sudden flash that startled him. Burning chunks of the ship were flung into all directions, and from somewhere within that brilliant, almost sun-like detonation, he sensed something alive, an entity comprised of energy that swirled and shone and desperately sought somewhere for it to hide itself. Even that 'thing' was gone in the explosion, swallowed whole and reduced to nothing but atoms, scattered across space above the blue-green sphere that was Earth.
"John, John, we have to leave!" Daniel's voice cut through his concentration, and he came out of his connection to the city with a sudden lurch. His head pounded, although the sensation was fleeting, and John realised very quickly that the entire city was coming apart around them. Smoke drifted on the air, fires burned in nearby sections and the entire building was shaking. The engines had failed, even he could see that on the readout monitor nearby. Daniel looked increasingly worried, whilst Teal'c and Elsie stood near the door, waiting for the others.
"The ZPM is going to go critical," Daniel added, and he helped John to his feet. "We have to leave. We've got minutes, if we're lucky." Somewhere distant, there came the sound of a muffled explosion. Another part of the city crumpled and gave way. Alarms were sounding about Atlantis now, telling all those who remained within that the city was reaching the end of its tether. The beating it had received had been too much for it, and even with the hostile alien vessel now reduced to a floating wreck, the damage it had caused was tearing Atlantis apart.
"Aithris, Aithris, can you hear me?" John activated his earpiece, trying to reach the other half of the team. A response came back promptly, much to his relief.
"I read you, Colonel. What's happened?" The Nomad sounded a little strained, not to mention hurried. Of course, he had no doubt noticed the fact that the city was coming apart. John could hear the noise of it through the connection.
"We're bailing. Get to the upper jumper bay, above the control room. Don't bother waiting for us, grab a jumper and leave. We'll take another." He was assuming, of course, that there was more than one of the craft currently in that bay. If there was not, then things would become a lot more complicated. For now, he put that thought aside, figuring that it was a hurdle they would deal with if it crossed their path.
"Understood, Colonel." Aithris sounded a little short of breath, his voice somewhat raspier than usual. He must have run into his own problems.
"Did you find McKay?" He had to know.
"We did. He's with us."
"Then get him home, Aithris. That's an order." Some relief fell upon him then. At least his old friend was alive and well. That was one part of the mission mostly complete. Now it simply fell to him and those with him to get out of this crumbling city. Another explosion rocked the ship, with the automated systems kicking in to try and keep the damage contained, be it through energy shields or simple bulkhead doors. The automated damage control system was fighting a losing battle.
"What kind of ship was that?" Jonas asked aloud, having watched the exchange of fire on the displays within the room. Daniel's expression was grim as he turned to him. He seemed to have a better idea of just what they had been fighting than most.
"I think it was the enemy we've all feared would come," he said, his voice grave.
"Earth's fleet…"
"We won't know for sure until we're back home," John interjected. He stepped out into the corridor, where Lieutenant Hudson, Lieutenant Elsie and the Gunnery Sergeant had appeared, evidently when the destruction had started. They had been on their way to meet up with Aithris, but that had changed when the city had started to take serious damage.
He motioned for them to lead the way. He still felt a little 'cold' from his abrupt disconnect from the city, and he could not help but feel that he was losing some part of himself as the city burned from within. He had been here for so many years, had lived and worked in the place and even considered it a home. And now he was abandoning it, leaving it to its destruction. Indeed, it was more than a coldness he felt, but a sense of loss. It was like losing a loved one, and every distant rumble he heard that signalled the loss of another section of the city hit that notion home harder. How much time did they have before the damage came upon their area, even stopped them from reaching the jumper bay? Not long, he surmised.
He started to run down the corridor, encouraging the others to do the same. With the teleporter pads non-functional, they would have to get to the jumper bay on foot. That was certainly easier said than done.
Aithris limped along, assisted by Natalia. McKay followed as they made their way into the operations centre. The windows here had been blocked by automated bulkheads, sealing them against any loss of atmosphere. Both Stanton and Guiterrez were on the upper level, gesturing at them in an effort to encourage them to move faster. Aithris was in no shape to move full pelt, staggering along on a bleeding thigh and chest, not to mention some fresh bruises and cuts that tarnished his blue-toned face. They would heal soon enough, but for the time being they throbbed painfully.
It was not so much the physical damage that hurt him, but what the Herald had told him in its dying moments. He thought about its words carefully, playing them in his mind again and again. Could he believe it? Could he truly trust the word of a creature that served evil, an evil he had sworn an oath to fight in all its forms? Probably not, and yet the words lingered, for they suggested an ugly truth that Aithris could not accept. Not now, not so readily.
Natalia helped him along, allowing him to lean against her with an arm draped around her. She had one of her own around him, her face etched with worry for his wounded, dour state. She had asked him what the Herald had said, but Aithris would not tell her. She would not understand, even though he felt deep down that she would, he was simply trying to find any reason not to tell her. He did not wish to burden her with his problems, certainly no more than he might have already had. For now, he kept quiet, thinking that he would seek confirmation for what he had been told from the others of his kind on New Sanctuary. That is, if they got off of this city-ship alive.
The entire building shook as something else exploded. Warnings danced across the various computer displays in the operations centre, with an automated voice playing throughout the city itself. It was a gentle, female tone, and it told them what they had all been thinking: "Condition critical. Zero-point module in overload. Estimated time to containment failure: six minutes and twenty-three seconds."
Atlantis was lost. The battle had been brief, but it had been decisive. The ship of the great enemy was destroyed, yet Atlantis had taken so much damage that they simply did not have the means to save it. Escape was the only option, and as soon as Aithris, Natalia and McKay joined the others on the upper level they all went hurrying on through to the main jumper bay. It was situated above the operations centre, allowing puddle jumpers to descend through the retractable ceiling in order to access the stargate that would normally have been present on the main floor of the operations centre. The team was headed there on the hope that there were actual ships present. None of them could know for sure, and Aithris was expecting to be disappointed.
Unlike the lower jumper bay, this one was much larger, comprised of two floors in which puddle jumper craft could be moored. A visible set of doors was high up in the ceiling, allowing puddle jumpers to fly on out of the tower. Most of the allotted spaces for the craft were vacant, which at a glance was not the sight any of the team wanted to see. There was, however, one of them parked on the lower level. The rear doors opened as the group approached, the ship having been left in standby since its initial activation with the ATA gene. If there had been other ships here, they were gone, presumably taken by fleeing personnel.
"Just one ship?" Natalia helped Aithris into a seat in the rear passenger section. Stanton and McKay raced into the pilot's section, even if neither of them were actual qualified pilots. Then again, puddle jumpers were generally foolproof to fly, practically powered by the thoughts of the pilot. It was with this in mind that Stanton set himself into the pilot's seat and placed his hands upon the controls, causing the ship to audibly hum into life. However, McKay stopped near him, eyeing up the hard-line officer. After a pause, Stanton took his hands off of the controls and allowed McKay to settle into the other seat and take the helm. At least the physicist had some experience with these ships, even if his flying skills left a lot to be desired.
"We have to wait for John," Natalia said, turning to Stanton. He looked back at her, his expression firm, his eyes meeting with her own. He outranked her, so he could very well take off now and leave the others behind. However, Stanton was not that kind of man. He simply nodded his head, acknowledging her words. No one got left behind, no matter what. They had come here for a rescue and that was what they would do.
"We're waiting here," McKay reiterated. He was adamant, so even if anyone else protested, he was a civilian and therefore did not need to heed the orders of any officer of the service. Of course, staying behind was a precarious notion in itself, as they had mere minutes before the city-ship's power core went bust. At least the display at the cockpit told them of the city's increasingly desperate status, outright telling them they had maybe three minutes before the zero-point module reached a critical state. It would likely prove to be the longest three minutes of their lives.
