Stargate Genesis
Episode 13
"Of Elves and Men"
The tattered remains of the Thor were drifting aimlessly through space by the time Colonel Caldwell returned in the Daedalus to see what had become of Atlantis. The field of debris was enormous and, as expected, included a great many ravaged Hive ships. They had been sifting through it for days, moving cautiously even under cloak to avoid detection by the remaining Wraith fleet. They were looking for bodies, and right now the Colonel wanted more than anything not to find any.
Tom and Maya Sol had been his friends and had each taken a turn serving under him aboard Earth's premier interstellar warship. He had watched Maya follow the same path her older brother had taken on his way to commanding the Vanity, always managing to hit the milestones a little faster than he had. Tom had been proud of her for it, and had told anyone who would listen so long as they promised not to let it get back to her. Not that it would have mattered. For her part Maya pretended her brother's approval meant nothing. She had often claimed that their father's history of service aboard the Sun Tzu combined with a political predilection for male war heroes had fast tracked Tom for command. Though the one time someone had been foolish enough to agree with her on that point, the man in question had been made to scrub re-entry burns from the Thor with a toothbrush. He wanted desperately to believe that they had escaped to Atlantis, but they weren't the type to abandon a ship while there was still fighting to be done. Why was it always the old men who survived?
When the first Hive had appeared over Atlantis his instinct had been to fight, but under the circumstances evacuating the mainland had to be his first priority. Atlantis had shields and weapons and people with the knowledge and skills to use them. The Athosians had nothing. Nothing that could stop a dart from scooping them up and taking them away to be fed on. Nothing to prevent a cruiser from burning their camps down around their heads. Nothing they could use to strike back at their would-be-predators. Nothing that was except for him. Now the Athosians were safely hidden away at the alpha site, but Atlantis was surrounded by Wraith Hives and the Thor had been destroyed, the second Daedalus-class ship in as many months.
Colonel Caldwell's hopes were dashed as the ship banked around half of a hive dart bay and into the next leg of its pre-programmed search pattern. The cold lifeless bodies of the Sol siblings hung there amid a few scraps of their former bridge. They still had all of their limbs and the only wound he could see was a gash across Tom's chest that showed up like a sash of red satin over his uniform. It looked as though they had been pulled into the vacuum of space before the majority of the Thor was vaporized. Their hands were joined.
Some people in the military harbor a secret fantasy that they will die in the line of duty, and that their broken bodies will spin for them a tale of heroism that will propel them into immortality. They dream of death and envy their friends who find him first. For them the sight of Tom and Maya Sol floating together through space in this way would have brought with it unfaltering admiration for a man and woman who could die so well. Colonel Caldwell was not one of these people. What he saw was simply death, and what he felt was loss.
"Beam them aboard," he said, and then added softly, "it's the least we can do."
The least, he thought, and looked out at the massive Wraith fleet hovering between them and Atlantis. Yes, and also the most.
~~00~~
Thump. Thump. Thump.
In his office above Stargate Operations Commander Woolsey tried to concentrate.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The noise sapped at what mental energy he had left. It was the sound of conquerors softening up their target before an assault. The rhythm was designed to induce a kind of insanity. The kind that led trained soldiers to throw themselves from the battlements rather than face the foe at their gate. The longer he allowed it to continue the more difficult it would be to rally his troops when the time came to fight back.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The city was entering its one hundred and forty-eighth hour of siege on behalf of the Wraith. He should have been formulating a strategy to fight back or searching for a means to evacuate his people, but all he could think about was how the Wraith had found them.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
After the first attack by a cloaked hive, the city had been relocated for fear that more would be on the way. Since then they had learned from Kalel that the first hive had indeed been part of a larger collective that was using the Vanir as slaves to outfit their ships with the stolen cloaking technology.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
In order to put a stop to it and free the remaining Vanir Atlantis had destroyed over a dozen Wraith operated Vanir slave camps. Was it possible a cloaked dart or cruiser had managed to follow them back to the city? To do so they would have to have developed a counter to Lantean cloaking technology, and if they had done that why allow their ship building facilities to be destroyed?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
There was another possibility. The Travelers. Former allies led by a woman with knowledge of Atlantis's position and tactical capabilities. It should have been unthinkable that Larrin Shivon would betray them to the Wraith, but in her eyes the people of Atlantis, in destroying the Vanir slave camps, had devoted themselves to saving the last remaining members of a species that had intentionally and unrepentantly slaughtered her people. For the Travelers, a race that had lived for so long without fear of being culled, the Vanir, not the Wraith, were the true scourge of Pegasus. Larrin Shivon would do whatever it took to be rid of them, and the only one left in the galaxy was just outside Woolsey's door.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
~~00~~
"Urgh I can't take it anymore!" whined Rodney.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The shield over the Atlantis Stargate glowed white in time with the thumps. The Wraith had managed to keep the gate open since their arrival, and had been attempting to send things through for about as long. From the dispersal pattern on the shield Kalel had determined that they were drone soldiers. As each one hit the shield a soft but persistent thump echoed around Stargate Operations.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
There were nine more thumps before the wave finally ended.
"How many attempts does that make?" asked Major Romanoff.
"More than I can count," said Rodney miserably, "and I can count really high."
"Mehsh," said the major. "Let them come. It has been a long time since they have had to contend with a fully operational Atlantis. With three ZPMs already in place and more on the way it seems to me that we could hold this position indefinitely."
"Um hi," said Rodney. "Some of us have a hard time sleeping with the constant threat of death looming over us from space, and holding this position isn't going to be enough to sustain us if and when we run out of coffee."
"Then I suggest we use this assuredly brief respite to return to work," said Kalel from his station. "Our commander will not be able to mount effective counter measures if we cannot determine how many vessels surround the planet."
"Well we could just count them if someone hadn't handed them cloaking technology," said Rodney in a fit of anger induced by sleep deprivation.
"I'm sorry," he said a moment later. "I know you didn't have a choice it's just the stress you know. I mean, usually I work well under pressure but this is really hard."
"It never occurred to us when we were designing the cloaks for our own vessels that someday we might want them to be easily compromised," said Kalel.
"But what about this weapon you've brought us?" asked Romanoff, poking at the glowing orb on Kalel's desk. It had been activated shortly after their arrival, but as far as he could tell it had yet to destroy a single cruiser. "Can we not use it to drive them away?"
"The Attero device is the only weapon we know of which is capable of annihilating the Wraith, yes," said Kalel. "Unfortunately in order for it to work the target must pass through a hyperspace window, so it will be of no use to us against the ships which have already arrived. It has however already destroyed a number of incoming vessels."
"What number?" asked the major.
"A very large one," said Kalel.
"Hmm," said the major thoughtfully. He stepped out onto the balcony of the control room and looked up just as another wave of weapons fire rained down on the city's shields. How many ships were up there?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
~~00~~
At first glance the difference between the lower extremities of a human and that of a Vanir were trivial. Despite having originated in two separate galaxies, convergent evolution had wrought a number of striking anatomical similarities between the two bipedal species.
As Dr. Carson Beckett studied the X-ray for what must been the hundredth time that afternoon he worked his way along structures analogous to the human tibia, fibula, and patella. They were all there if thinner and slightly spongier, and the major muscle groups were also represented, though in the case of the frail top-heavy Vanir they weren't particularly major. In this Vanir, in fact, they were nearly non-existent from disuse.
Carson was a surgeon as well as a doctor, and he had performed operations on species far more exotic than the Vanir. The problem was that even if Kalel had been human he wasn't sure he could repair the damage the Wraith had done to his legs.
Kalel's bones had been shattered.
The largest breaks would have been catastrophic life-altering injuries for a human, but for the Vanir, who wore bodies like cheap polyester suits, even the tiniest hairline fractures meant a permanent loss of mobility.
He yawned. The incessant thumping of the Wraith bombardment had stopped for the moment. He decided to take the opportunity to get some sleep. He had a feeling that his services would be required very soon. He put his head down on the sleeve of his labcoat and shut his eyes.
~~00~~
In the sparring room on the East Pier Teyla was drilling marines in the use of Bantos Rods. They stood along the walls of the room and took turns stepping forward to take up the unfamiliar weapons and face Ronon, who was twirling his own rods knowingly. His latest opponent eyed him cautiously and kept his distance.
"Observe how he has oriented his body perpendicular to yours," said Teyla to the marine who had adopted a defensive posture and was holding his rods out in front of his face. "He is drawing your attention to his left hand while hiding the strike he will attempt with his right, and at the same time he is presenting you with a smaller target."
Ronon swung the rod in his left hand down. The strike was slow and didn't have much power to it, but rather than evade the marine reached up to block. Ronon brought his right hand around and struck at the man's kidneys a little harder than was necessary.
"Bantos is a fighting style that rewards the aggressor," said Teyla, ignoring the man's groan. "By attacking, you control your opponent's movements and create openings in which a few decisive blows may be enough to incapacitate them."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Teyla looked up involuntarily. Through a skylight she could see that another barrage of Wraith weapons fire was beginning to strike the shield over Atlantis. She tried to ignore it.
By now the first marine had retreated and another had picked up his rods. Teyla glanced at Ronon and saw that the muscles of his back and forehead were twitching slightly. Over the last few days he had gotten somewhat irritable as the siege droned on. This morning he had assaulted a cafeteria table after a bleary eyed McKay had accidentally run into him smearing the butter and jam from a full plate of English muffins down his front. It had been Commander Woolsey's idea that Teyla use him to teach the day's drills, and so far the exercise and casual violence had kept him reasonably calm.
"Perhaps now would be a good time for a rest?" she asked.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"I'm good," said Ronon. He nodded to the marine. "You ready?"
The marine nodded and the two of them looked to Teyla for instructions.
"Alright…" she said uncertainly. "What I would like to teach you now is called the cage technique. This will be of particular use if you wish to subdue an opponent without causing them any unnecessary injury."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Ronon's nostrils flared in time with the thumps. Teyla addressed the marine.
"The idea is to pin your opponent to the ground with his weapons pointed away from either of you. To start I want you to attempt a forward takedown."
The marine looked questioningly at Ronon who as yet had not been successfully taken down by anyone present. Ronon responded with a smirk and a slight nod and the two of them began to spar. Ronon gave the marine a few good smacks on his arms and ankles before allowing him to execute the prescribed takedown.
On his stomach Ronon grunted as the marine's knee came down sharply into the small of his back.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Good," said Teyla. "Now secure his hands in front of him with your right and apply pressure to the neck with your left."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A bantos rod came down across Ronon's wrists pinning his own rods out in front of him. Then a second fell across his neck. The pressure was only enough to cause some slight discomfort, but as the marine adjusted his grip the rod in his left hand brushed the scars that had formed over the place where a Wraith tracking device had once been ripped out of Ronon's back.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Instinctively the former Wraith runner jerked his head back and caught the kneeling marine in the chin. The blow caused him to rear up, releasing Ronon's hands, which he leveraged to throw the marine off. Back on his feet, Ronon prepared to strike out again, but Teyla's firm grasp stopped him. The marine was laid out on the floor and nursing what was quite possibly a broken jaw.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Sorry," said Ronon, lifting the man bodily to his feet. "I don't do well in cages."
~~00~~
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The headboard rattled as Daniel's skull repeatedly collided with it. Each thump sent vibrations rushing through the floorboards and shook the plethora of other-worldly knick-knacks and Ancient artifacts that adorned the walls and shelves of his private quarters. Fortunately for his skull the impact was softened and muffled by the feathery pillows that were caught in the middle.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The pace of the thumps quickened. Vala let her arms fall to his chest and dug her fingernails into his flesh for leverage. He rose up involuntarily at the pain and she dug them in deeper to make him do it again. He gasped sharply and ripped her hands away. Rolling over on top of her he pinned them up above her head with one hand and used the other to push her into the mattress.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
They fought for dominance.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Now the sound was coming from Jaffa headdresses and plasters of Ancient hieroglyphs as the melee caused them to fall heavily to the floor.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Vala wrapped her legs around Daniel's midsection and twisted until he was beneath her again. She smiled and kissed him lovingly before biting his lip and moving lower. He might still have had the strength to push her off, but he didn't try.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Their pace quickened, their moans driving each other onward. They arched their backs in unison and shouted obscenities as they climaxed then crumpled into an exhausted sweaty heap of human passion.
Daniel closed his eyes and let his mind drift into a state of deep contemplation that the uninitiated might have mistaken for sleep.
"Mmmm. That was wonderful," said Vala, rolling off of him. "There's nothing like a good romp for relieving stress don't you think?"
"Hmmm?" asked Daniel. "Oh yeah definitely, sorry I was just thinking about the Cleavage of Ormet."
"Ormet had better not be the name of your high school sweetheart," said Vala drawing the covers up over her breasts and settling in next to him.
"Uh… no her name was Enid McCallister. She had to wear headgear all the time so we never really got all that intimate– and I guess you didn't ask. No, the Cleavage of Ormet is one of the early chapters of a 13th century compilation of Norse mythology called the Prose Edda. It's about how the dark elves, the Dökkálfr, and the light elves, the Ljósálfar, fought one another over the ruins of an abandoned city on the Ormet River."
Vala wrapped an arm around him and laid her head on his bare shoulder. She looked up at him and drifted into a state of near sleep that the uninitiated might have mistaken for rapt attention. Daniel didn't mind.
"Anyways, the city was divided down the middle by the river, but rather than share it they waged this terrible war on one another until both sides were so weak they could barely feed themselves, which is why both groups were ousted when a wandering tribe of humans happened upon the place and decided to take up residence."
Vala yawned.
"What a very human thing to do," she said.
"Well it's not like the elves were models of compassion either," said Daniel.
"I was talking about the elves."
~~00~~
"I've got it," said Rodney.
He was sweating profusely and his eyes were bloodshot.
"What have you... got?" asked Kalel in a slightly worried tone.
"It's like a jigsaw puzzle. Only we've been trying to put all the pieces together without knowing what they're supposed to look like," said Rodney, starting to type feverishly.
"I don't normally make a habit of encouraging narcissism," said Major Romanoff, "but do you think you could explain that thought a little more fully?"
"Yeah yeah yeah," said Rodney. "Do you remember how I told you the Wraith cloak works differently than ours? It disperses all the different forms of radiation we could normally use to detect it over a huge area of space. Now that makes it difficult to pinpoint their location, but all the pieces of the picture are still there for us to find. What we need is a reference point to work backwards to once we've picked them all up. If we tell the computer what the ship is supposed to look like it can sift through all the radiation fields until it finds one that can be made to fit the pattern and extrapolate its position."
"The calculations necessary for that to work would be immense," said Kalel, "and would require a detailed three-dimensional scan of each individual vessel accurate to no less than ten micrometers."
"Well, we can take care of that right here," said Rodney. "The long range sensors should be able to handle a ten micrometer window of error out to… fifty maybe sixty thousand miles?"
"I believe I see a flaw in this plan," said Major Romanoff. "The only vessels you will be able to scan will be those which are not cloaked, correct? It is a catch-22, is it not?"
"But we only need them to decloak for a second," said Rodney. "Say… long enough to deflect a drone?"
~~00~~
The bodies of Tom and Maya Sol had been perfectly preserved by the chill of space, and now they were safely loaded into stasis pods for the journey home. Looking at them now Colonel Caldwell wondered if being able to return them would provide their parents with any solace. Bai and Maui Sol were both Buddhists and would probably arrange an open casket funeral, but how much could that luxury offset the pain of burying not just one, but two children?
"Sir," said the voice of Major Marks over his radio, "it appears Atlantis has launched a counterattack."
"What's their target?" snapped the Colonel.
"Um… well as far as I can tell they aren't targeting anything yet."
"What?"
"I… sir I think you'd better come see this for yourself."
~~00~~
The Lantean drone zigzagged through space, thwarting the efforts of darts and cruisers to shoot it down, but whenever a ship decloaked and raised its shields in preparation for impact the drone suddenly changed directions and sped away.
When the Wraith had acquired their cloaking technology from the Vanir, they had also adopted their energy shielding, but like the Tau'ri, the Vanir had yet to come up with a way to employ both at once.
Back in Stargate Operations the long range sensors were working as fast as they could to track the movements of each newly revealed vessel.
"You're doing great Carson," said Rodney into his radio. "Just keep that drone in the air as long as you can."
"You know there are plenty of other people in this city more qualified to do this than me," he replied nervously, "any of them for example."
"Yeah well the idea isn't really to hit anything so I think you're perfect."
"Oh thanks."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Oh not now," said Rodney.
The shield over the Stargate glowed white as Wraith soldiers once more threw themselves against it.
"Your plan is working, Dr. McKay," said Kalel. "We must remain focused."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Right…" said Rodney, but a slight change in the tone of the thumps had set off a small wave of panic inside him.
Apparently Major Romanoff had heard it too, because he shouldered his P-90 and joined his men behind the barricades they had set up on the floor of the Gate Room.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Rodney started to count under his breath as Wraith ships began to show up on his monitor.
"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A ripple passed over the surface of the gate shield and for a moment the outline of a Wraith drone was clearly visible. Around the room fingers clenched on triggers.
Carson swung the solitary drone around wildly. The seemingly random way he jerked it this way and that made it impossible for the Wraith to shoot it down.
"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
This time, ripples bounced off the edges of the gate and collided with each other as three more drones seemed to push against the shield. Rodney and Kalel stopped what they were doing to stare mesmerized at the sight. On the main view screen behind them, dozens of red dots representing Wraith vessels winked into existence. Then suddenly the shield over the Atlantis Stargate began to boil.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The drones pulled themselves over the event horizon as if they were escaping a pot of bubbling oil, the shield now only slowing their advance. Many of them fell back as bullets began to fly, but as the bodies piled up they became entrenchments and the fight for Atlantis began.
Written by Andrew Marron
Story by Andrew Marron and Caleb Palmquist