Orsus Comitas
AN: All medical theories stated in this chapter are theoretical. Just had a biology course in college, but I'm no doctor. It's sci-fi, let's pretend we know the unknown.
Also, I know I have frequent errors. Aha…I did accidentally write Aeryn running to Pilot twice last chapter. When you write 2 paragraphs every few days, that happens…yeah…so…enjoy!
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Chapter Eight
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Moya, Command Center (23 arns, 340 microts after contact)
Sheppard sat on the edge of the strange alien seat, listening to Beckett excitedly chatter away about proteins, chemical transfers and other weird things he didn't understand a thing about. It wasn't until the Scotsman used the word 'Hoffan' that his military (and better judgment) senses went on full alert.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there a minute, Doctor," he cut in quickly, stopping him in mid-sentence. "We've established the Hoffan drug is a terrible thing, which cost a lot of people around the galaxy their homes, not to mention their lives. We burned that bridge for a reason."
"No, you don't understand, Colonel," Beckett insisted, in that manner he usually used when he was on to something big and knew he could pull it off. It was the same look McKay used, only with Dr. Beckett, Sheppard didn't feel a prickling of an oncoming headache when it happened. "We founded our research on strictly human-only genetic DNA, using our own natural inhibiting sugar-to-protein theories as a basis to counteract the Wraith feeding process. Human molecular structure degenerates very quickly when compared to many other types of species, such as the Ancients or the Asgard. Essentially, we die all tae quickly. In the grand scheme of things, if hadn't been so damned plentiful to begin, we'd be a rather sore choice of a food source for the Wraith."
Sheppard held up a hand in front of him. "Alright, I get it; we're the appetizers on the Pegasus Galaxy food chain. What does that have to do with the Hoffan drug—biological weapon?"
"I've only run the most basic of tests so far, Colonel, but if what I'm seeing is what I think it is…dear Lord, there may very well be a vaccine against the Wraith after all."
"Well, hallelujah!" chimed Crichton from his corner of the command room, throwing his hands into the air. He stalked forward with a frown creasing his forehead, looking just about as pissed as he had three minutes ago. "Now explain to me how any of this helps Moya, or the moment Pilot comes outta rehab, I'm telling him to vent everyone who isn't part of my family into the hard vacuum of the universe."
"Commander, I beg your pardon," Beckett apologized sincerely, sighing as he finally took a seat across from Sheppard's team. After three hours of unsuccessful Wraith hunting, Ronon was still staring at the doorways like a cat watching a housefly. "Even with our advances in medicine, there's no firm way tae determine how or why we age or what exactly in our bodies nourishes the Wraith. As far as that vaccine back on that God-forsaken planet goes, the artificial binding elements of the serum not only created a rapid and deteriorating infection in the Wraith, but in the host as well. Our cellular density is rather weak, I'm afraid tae say. Your pilot friend, on the other hand…"
"Frell, you're not the first to want a piece of Pilot!" snapped Rygel, the supposedly talking frog that Sheppard didn't quite understand yet. "Whatever is so special about his DNA, it's a load of frelling wasted time, if you ask me. Getting the Starburst drive back—now there's a plan."
As usual, both sides of the uneasy alliance ignored him. Crichton's rusty scientist's brain was starting to hurt again. "All right, fine," he said, pinching his temples. "If this miracle cure you're talking about starts with making Pilot better and Moya happy, give it everything you've got. No Pilot, no Moya. No Moya, no Starburst. No Starburst, we all die. Any questions?"
"Just one," McKay chimed in, half-raising his hand in a mocking way. "What on Earth, or in this case, not Earth, is a Starburst? Other than those horribly acidic and poisonous candies my sister used to taunt me with when I was in grade school?"
"I'll tell you what it is," Rygel barked. "It's the only thing that will save our sorry hides from this schlock of a situation. There, I said it!"
"Sparky, go to your room!" Crichton rounded on him and pointed towards the corridor, though the small green Hynerian simply sat there, glowering at him.
"It's a type of technology only the Leviathan can use," Aeryn explained calmly. She was leaning against the wall, occasionally glancing down the hallway. Teyla and some of Lorne's team were babysitting the den at the moment, and if she didn't trust them, it was clear why she was uneasy being away from the enormous chamber. "It allows Moya to jump vast distances using her Starburst drive. However, it has to recharge every time it's used. And it's easily damaged by weapon's fire. She is a living creature after all, and not a machine."
"Doc, as much as I want to pursue this epiphany of yours," Sheppard started with a sigh. "We've got a few problems that need to be dealt with first. Todd's still on board, lurking and waiting for his buddies to come back him up. Their ship is crippled, the Daedalus is still hours away, and we're defenseless. Now this Starburst sounds a lot like a hyperdrive, so why don't we focus on that?"
"If we can get Pilot to stay conscious long enough, he can focus on repairing the Starburst drive," said Aeryn methodically. "Many of the DRDs were destroyed and Moya's not concentrating on allowing herself to heal. Even a small jump can take us out of weapon range and we'll decide on what to do next once we're secure."
"That is a good plan. That's why I love you," Crichton reached out and planted a firm kiss on her forehead. "No loony bin was built solid enough to keep a man like me without my wife's only redeeming quality—her beautiful mind."
She stared at him briefly. "My only what?"
Crichton grimaced, took a step back and place a hand on the back of his head. "Yeeeeah, I'll pay for that later…right now, Pilot. Don't suppose you've got a jumbo-sized smelling salt in your bag of toys, huh Doc?"
"I caen't say that I do," Beckett admitted, looking somewhat flustered. "But I caen try my best; that's all I caen promise."
The partially unstable commander grabbed the butt of his pulse rifle and dragged it off the command center's module, just as he turned to approach Tier 1. "Works for me," he said, and everyone fell in behind.
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Moya, Pilot's Den (23 arns, 2797 microts after contact)
Lieutenant Salley wordlessly handed Carson the needle, which he prepped out of habit by putting pressure on the plunger and allowing the air bubbles to filter out. This was the mildest stimulant he brought with him to the alien ship and he only had a hunch to go on. At the worst, it wouldn't hurt the poor pilot any more, but there was no guarantee it would help, either. He had seen one too many enzyme patients in the past; Rodney's face was still permanently etched into his brain. He glanced over at his astrophysicist friend for a moment, and McKay looked away with a tinge of embarrassment on his face.
"Here goes," the doctor announced and reached across the bulkhead towards the enormous creature. He pressed the tip of the needle into the soft tissue behind his head, where Aeryn had shown him one of the larger veins. Emptying the syringe, he then pulled it out and discarded it into the plastic container in his bag.
A moment later, Pilot let out a long, raspy sigh and moved one of his arms. Aeryn sat on the bulkhead in front of him and tried to make eye-contact through the large, fluttering eyelids.
"Pilot, can you understand me? How are you feeling?" The question was almost mechanical. In her frustration, it was hard to think of anyone's well-being other than that of her son, whom she would gladly give up anything to make safe. It made her mouth feel dry.
Moya's symbiote moaned a little. "Mooooya…poison, deteriorating…what is wrong…?"
"We know, Pilot .We're trying to figure that out. Can you talk to her for us? Is there any way to purge her system of the Wraith enzyme?" Aeryn barraged him, holding his head steady so that he could look at her and only her. "You need to concentrate."
"Fractured…unstable hull density…I must fix this, the DRDs…where are they?" Pilot sleepily blinked his eyes at her. "Officer Sun…? Who are all of these people…standing in my den…?"
"Later," she told him. "This is very important. There's a toxin in your body that was transmitted to Moya and it's making her sick. Can you purge it or not?"
He looked down at his panel of buttons, seeming to forget their audience and thought for a long, long moment. "Yes," he answered slowly, but didn't sound very sure of that fact. "Moya's immune functions…already fighting off the infection…why am I so…weak?"
A knot of worry formed in the back of Carson's already churning brain. The enzyme was meant to empower the human body, not drain it of all energy. The effects on this alien creature were nearly the complete opposite—if the Wraith had continued feeding, his body would have likely become too weak to endure it. This explained the odd strains of cells (that he had nicknamed 'factory cells', to his associates' amusement) in his blood. In his sample, the enzyme cells were being devoured by the factory cells, much like a human's white blood cells would. He had seen similar genetics in Ancient DNA, the little of it he had managed to secure and examine. But the cells were violent, and likely causing Pilot a great deal of physical and mental stress. It was like the withdrawal symptoms, but without the thankful strength it provided.
"I know you're tired and in pain," Aeryn was saying to the pilot, much softer now. "But more Wraith will be here soon and they intend to hurt Moya. We need the Starburst drive so that we can escape, and let you and Moya rest."
Pilot's glassy eyes travlled across the broad panel in front of him and he tentatively used a claw to touch one of the buttons. A moment later, he sighed again. "Starburst chamber…not enough DRDs…drone birthing cycle won't be complete for another twelve…arns…" His head began to droop again and his claw slumped on top of the controls.
"No, Pilot. I need you here," Aeryn pulled his head back up. "All of the available DRDs that aren't being repair must go to fix the Starbust drive. We only need a little more, and then you can rest for as long as you like. I promise."
"Not…enough," he tried again to feebly explain. "It would take…at least one solar…day…"
"Let me do it."
The sound of the voice startled everyone in the chamber, Crichton included. As a whole, Lorne's team, Sheppard's team, both additional scientists and the native parents on board the ship turned to face the door at the end of the walkway. D'Argo stood there, with a DRD in his arms, its antennas wiggling back and forth. "I can help fix it. I know how."
"What are you doing outside your room?" Crichton half-exclaimed, crossing the bridge towards him. Harper and MacDaniels stepped aside in a hurry to let him through. D'Argo just looked up at him as his father approached.
"He told me what's going on," he said, as though it were obvious. "Most of the DRDs are dead, so someone has to fix the Starburst. He told me what I have to do, so I can do it. Please, let me try, Dad!"
It was an outrageous boast for an eight-year-old to make and it left the members of the Atlantis expedition stunned. Teyla was eying him with newfound curiosity and Ronon just looked dubious. Aeryn stared at her son with a mixture of awe and trepidation as he set the little yellow drone down on the ground and looked at them expectantly. "I think I can hear Moya, too. It's mostly like hearing someone shout a lot without the words, not really. I want to help, I really do."
"You…you're listening to Moya?" Crichton apparently couldn't absorb it all at once.
"The DRDs, too. They're quieter. Can I try and help them fix it? I won't go alone. They can come with me." D'Argo pointed at Sheppard and McKay, who exchanged looks. "Moya's afraid that the Wraith will come and hurt Pilot again and everyone on board, too. I think she likes Sheppard because he's a lot like her creators." His eye furled a little at the colonel. "He doesn't look that cool, though," he added, using one of the words his father had taught him.
"I try," Sheppard said with an edge of annoyance.
"D'Argo, how long…how long have you heard these things?" asked Aeryn, unaware that Pilot was drifting back into unconsciousness. "Why haven't you told either of us?"
"I didn't think it was really anything until the Plokavian…I mean, the Atlantis people came," the boy replied a little hesitantly. "I can get the Starburst drive fixed a lot faster than the DRDs if they tell me how. Can I do it? Please?"
No, thought Aeryn. She wanted her son safe, locked securely in his room where nothing could harm him—no matter what happened to herself or his father. One look at his face, however, and she saw Crichton's irrefutable determination. Age eight, and he was already becoming too much like a rebellious soldier for anyone's good. Her lips pressed tightly together. No one said anything for half a minute.
"Look, if the kid can buy us any time at all," Sheppard began, gesturing to D'Argo. "That'd give the Daedalus a chance to get to us and take care of the Wraith before they send in a Hive Ship or two. And it'd give Dr. Beckett the time to try and help your pilot. It's our best option."
"He's not your son," Crichton reminded him. "So I'm going to go with him. You, your yeti friend, and the nerd, too. At the first hint of a Wraith attack…"
"Yeah, yeah, hard vacuum, I got it." The colonel stood up and stared D'Argo down for a moment. "Looks like it's up to you, kid. You don't like me and I don't know if I like you, but I'll cover your back while you fix the ship, okay?"
The boy said nothing.
"John!" Teyla had a panicked tone again. Somehow, he already knew what was coming.
"More Wraith?" he asked her, but never got a chance to hear the answer.
"Incoming!" At once, Pilot jerked up as his back arms flailed over his controls. He looked intensely at Aeryn; even in his delirium, he had to trust her to do something about this. "A ship…departed from the other vessel…it is coming straight for Moya! Arming…arming its weapons! Firing!"
The Wraith fired on Moya.