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Stargate Atlantis
Chapter Eight
Engage!
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(A Brief note I do not own Stargate or its associated products. Also please forgive any grammar and spelling errors I am Dyslexic and even with a spell checker it is difficult for me to see them.)
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Silence stretched between the two men as McKay pressed buttons at his console, the genius Canadian seemingly enthralled by the intricate display of data flickering on the screen. The hum of the machinery and the soft, rhythmic beeping were the only sounds breaking the stillness of the room. The tension was palpable, each second ticking by with agonising slowness.
Major Sheppard's eyes narrowed as he watched McKay's fingers fly over the keys. His patience was wearing thin. He shifted in his command chair, feeling the weight of the mission's urgency pressing down on him.
"NOW, McKay," Sheppard shouted, the sudden outburst shattering the fragile calm. He sprang up from his seat, his voice echoing off the metallic walls. The Canadian jumped, startled, and the tablet in his hand danced precariously out of his fingers. McKay fumbled, juggling the device before managing to secure it back into his grip.
"R-right now," McKay stammered, his voice a mix of irritation and embarrassment.
"No, Rodney, next week. Of course, now!" Sheppard's sarcasm was sharp, his frustration evident. He ran a hand through his hair, exasperation etched into his features.
McKay shot him a withering look, his confidence quickly returning. "Well, you don't have to yell," he muttered under his breath, his fingers resuming their rapid dance over the console. The screen was filled with lines of code and schematics, a testament to McKay's brilliance.
Sheppard took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. He knew McKay worked best under pressure, but sometimes the scientist's arrogance and lack of urgency drove him to the brink. "Just get it done, McKay. Lives are at stake."
The weight of Sheppard's words hung in the air. McKay's expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. He nodded, his focus intensifying. "Almost there," he murmured, more to himself than to Sheppard.
Seconds stretched into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity. The room was filled with the quiet tension of anticipation, both men aware of the critical nature of their task. Finally, McKay's fingers stilled, and he looked up, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"Got it," he announced, his voice steady and confident.
Sheppard nodded, relief washing over him. "Good. Now let's save the day."
"The sensors say that the Hive on the farthest edge of their formation has the most engine fatigue," McKay said, his voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and urgency. His eyes were glued to the console, the data streams painting a clear picture of their enemy's weakness. "If we place a torpedo into the reactor chamber, it will cause a chain detonation."
"Will they detect it as an attack?" Sheppard asked, leaning over McKay's shoulder to get a better look at the screen. His tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"With the sensors they have?" McKay replied incredulously, shooting Sheppard a sidelong glance. "They'll be lucky to detect the initial detonation before the whole ship goes up."
"And the debris field?" Sheppard continued, his mind racing through the possible outcomes. He needed every detail to be sure this plan would work.
"The simulations show that the ship next to it and their escorts will also be engulfed in the initial shock wave," McKay explained, pointing at the predictive model displayed on the console. "The debris will blind their sensors completely for a few minutes."
"Giving us an open window to deal with the entire flank," Sheppard concluded, his mind already formulating the next steps. He could see the tactical advantage forming clearly now.
"By the time they get reorganized, we'll be waiting at their next jump point," McKay added, a confident smile spreading across his face. He knew this plan was their best shot.
Sheppard nodded the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "All right, let's get this done. Relay the coordinates to the weapons team and prep the torpedo."
McKay's fingers flew over the console, transmitting the necessary data. "Coordinates sent. Torpedo is being prepped. We'll be ready in five."
The tension in the room was palpable, but there was also a sense of determination. Each member of the crew knew their role and the importance of this mission. Failure was not an option.
As they worked, the dim lighting of the command centre cast long shadows on the walls, adding to the atmosphere of intensity. The hum of the ship's engines and the occasional beep from the consoles were the only sounds accompanying their focused efforts.
Sheppard placed a hand on McKay's shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie. "Good work, Rodney. Let's make sure this goes off without a hitch."
McKay nodded, his expression serious. "We've got this, John."
With the plan set into motion, both men turned their attention back to the task at hand. The seconds ticked by, each one bringing them closer to a moment that could change the tide of the conflict.
"The transporters have a torpedo on the pad," McKay said, his fingers dancing over the console keys. His eyes never left the screen, ensuring every detail was perfect. "We'll send them as soon as they're armed." The console beeped, an amber light flashing insistently.
"We're ready down here," came the voice over the comm, thick with a deep Scots brogue. The rough accent belonged to an Exocomp, their reliable and no-nonsense machine ironically named Twitchy.
Sheppard couldn't help but smile, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he saw the plan coming together. The thrill of outsmarting their enemy gave him a rush.
"Energize, McKay," he ordered, leaning back into the command chair. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp and focused, locked on the distant Hive ship they had selected.
McKay's fingers flew across the console, initiating the transporter sequence.
"Energizing now," he confirmed turning to the screen, his voice steady with determination. The hum of the transporter filled the room, a low, resonant sound that vibrated through the deck.
On the screen, the image of the Hive fleet grew larger, every detail of the techno-organic monstrosities set him on edge.
The anticipation was electric, the crew around them working with silent efficiency, each person playing a vital role in the unfolding plan.
Sheppard's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the seconds tick by. He could almost feel the tension in the air as if he could reach out and grasp it.
On the Transporter pad, the torpedo shimmered as blue lights engulfed it, then the torpedo disappeared from their pad, and its journey to the Hive ship began.
"Transport successful," McKay reported, his voice cutting through the silence. "Torpedo is on target and armed."
Sheppard's eyes never left the Hive ship. "Now we wait," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as they waited for the impact.
A sudden, brilliant flash lit up the screen, followed by a ripple of explosions cascading through the Hive ship's structure. The initial detonation triggered a chain reaction, just as McKay had predicted. The ship shuddered violently, then began to break apart, fragments flying outward in all directions.
"Yes!" McKay exclaimed; his voice triumphant. "The reactor's gone critical."
Sheppard allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction, his smirk widening into a full grin. McKay's fingers flew over the console, analysing the data.
"Just as the simulations predicted," McKay said with a triumphant smile. "Scratch two Hive ships and four escort cruisers." He glanced up from his console, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "The debris field is forming. The shockwave has already blinded their sensors. We've got our window."
Sheppard nodded, his mind already racing ahead to the next phase of their operation. The thrill of their success was palpable, but he knew they had to act quickly.
"Alright, everyone, get ready," he commanded, his voice cutting through the controlled chaos of the command centre. "We're spamming the transports now."
Sheppard leaned forward in his command chair; his eyes fixed on the tactical display. The debris field on the screen was a chaotic swirl of wreckage, a testament to the destruction they had wrought. He could see the enemy ships struggling to regroup, their sensors blinded by the aftermath of the explosion.
"We can't afford to sit and enjoy this. Set course to the next coordinates," Sheppard ordered, his voice tinged with urgency. "We've only got three more jumps before they reach Atlantis." He glanced at McKay, who had just settled into the second officer's chair next to him.
"They'll spend some time analysing the wreckage, then move on," McKay said, his eyes scanning the data on his pad. "Given the nature of the torpedo, it's unlikely they'll detect anything, and the exotic radiation has already dispersed."
Sheppard sighed; frustration etched into his features.
"I just wish we could do more."
"I know," McKay responded, his tone measured. "But if we push too hard, they'll send the entire fleet after us. That's something that will only end in our total annihilation."
Sheppard leaned back in his chair, staring at the stars streaking by as their ship moved through space. "I know," he said quietly, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But every stop they make at a planet is another slaughter. Another planet stripped of human life to feed them."
The weight of Sheppard's words hung in the air, a grim reminder of the stakes they faced. McKay looked up from his pad, empathy softening his usually sharp features. "I know, John. But we cannot afford to make the same mistakes as the Ancients. We have just as much to lose if not more."
Sheppard's gaze shifted to the view outside the ship, the vastness of space a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. "It's just hard to watch," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hard to know we're doing everything we can and it still might not be enough."
McKay placed a hand on Sheppard's shoulder, a rare gesture of solidarity. "We're buying time for Atlantis, for everyone. Every minute we delay them is a minute for our people to prepare, to survive. We're making a difference, even if it doesn't feel like it."
Sheppard nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "You're right," he said, steeling himself. "We have to keep moving, keep fighting. We owe it to those who can't fight for themselves."
The ship's engines hummed as they adjusted course, the crew working diligently to follow Sheppard's orders. The sense of urgency was palpable, but so was the resolve. They all knew what was at stake, and they were prepared to do whatever it took.
"Next jump in three minutes," McKay announced, his focus returning to the console. "All systems are green."
As the ship prepared for the next jump, Sheppard knew that this was more than a mission; it was a fight for survival, for the future.
The ship lurched as it entered the jump, the stars outside the viewport stretching into lines of light. Sheppard took one last look at the receding scene, a silent vow forming in his mind. They would protect Atlantis, no matter the cost.
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The journey took mere minutes, but to John's horror, he saw that the next coordinates brought them to an inhabited system. The vibrant blue-green orb on the viewscreen was unmistakable.
"That's Orin's world," a voice said, startling both men. They turned to see their friend and teammate, Teyla, standing at the entrance to the bridge.
"Orin?" asked the Major, his brows furrowing in concern.
"He's traded with my people for years," she said sadly as she came around and sat in the third chair reserved for the ship's counsellor. Her eyes were downcast, the weight of the revelation heavy on her shoulders. "He is a good man, and his people are kind."
"I'm sorry," McKay said, his voice soft with condolence.
Teyla looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Can we not save them?" she asked, her voice trembling as she stared at Sheppard, pleading for a solution.
Sheppard turned to McKay, desperation in his eyes.
"McKay?"
"Our evacuation limit is around four hundred," McKay replied, his fingers tapping nervously on the console. "We can expand it to six hundred if we use the shuttles, jumpers, and runabouts." He paused, calculating quickly. "Between the two ships, we can manage twelve hundred, but we'll have to pull right back to Atlantis afterwards. Even the Ancients' environmental systems have their limits."
Sheppard's face tightened with grim resolve. "How many live on the planet?"
"Around fifty thousand," Teyla said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sheppard felt a knot tighten in his stomach.
"We can save who we can," he said, knowing the words were a cold comfort.
"Hold on here," McKay interjected, his tone urgent. "We don't know how long the Wraith will take to get here. If we're evacuating people and they catch us with our pants down..."
Sheppard's jaw clenched. The risk was immense, but the alternative was unthinkable.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."
McKay looked at Sheppard, then at Teyla. He sighed deeply, knowing there was no other choice. "Very well."
Teyla reached out and touched Sheppard's arm, her gratitude evident. "Thank you, John. Thank you." Sheppard gave a tight nod.
"All right, people. We have limited time and a lot of lives to save. McKay, start coordinating the evacuation procedures with the Hood. Teyla, you're with me. We need to get down there and organize the people."
The bridge erupted into a flurry of activity. Orders were given, plans were laid out, and the crew moved with precision and purpose. The gravity of their mission pressed down on them, but there was no hesitation.
The ship descended toward the planet, breaking through the atmosphere with a controlled urgency. From the viewport, they could see the sprawling settlements, unaware of the impending doom.
"We'll contact Orin's people," Sheppard said. "Let them know we're coming."
McKay nodded, opening a channel.
"This is Dr. McKay to Hood Major Loran come in." he said over the comm, the image on the viewer changed from the planet to the mousy blond American Marine officer "We're initiating an emergency evacuation of the planet."
Sheppard turned to Teyla as the doors to the turbo lift closed.
"We'll save as many as we can," he said, his voice firm.
"I know," she replied, her hand gripping the armrest. "But it will never feel like enough."
The minutes felt like hours as they coordinated the evacuation, guiding people to the shuttles and jumpers, their faces a mix of confusion and fear. Sheppard and Teyla moved among them, offering reassurances, and directing the flow of refugees.
"Keep moving, we don't have much time!" Sheppard called out, his voice carrying over the chaotic din. He met Teyla's eyes, seeing his desperation reflected in them.
As the last of the ships filled, Sheppard knew they had done all they could.
"We're full," said Shepard as he reluctantly closed the doors.
McKay's voice crackled over the comm.
"We've detected incoming hyperspace distortions they are half an hour out."
Sheppard nodded grimly as the ships lifted off, carrying their precious cargo away from the doomed planet. Sheppard watched as Orin's world grew smaller in the distance, his heart heavy with the lives left behind.
"We did what we could," Teyla said softly, her voice breaking the silence.
"I know," Sheppard replied, his voice hollow. "But it will never feel like enough."
The journey back to Atlantis was sombre, the weight of their mission heavy on their minds. They had saved twelve hundred lives, but the loss of thousands more would haunt them.
As they approached the Nautilus, Sheppard steeled himself for the next phase of the operation. As the ship's outer shuttle bay doors closed, he leapt into action making a brake for the command bridge Teyla hot on his heels.
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On the bridge, Rodney watched the long-range tactical screen with a mix of anxiety and determination. The glowing dots representing the Hive fleet grew closer with every passing second. He had to admit to himself, with some trepidation, that he was scared. The weight of their situation pressed down on him, a gnawing fear he tried to push aside.
He turned as the turbolift doors whooshed open with their signature hiss, and relief washed over him as he saw Sheppard and Teyla making their way in. Their presence was a balm to his frazzled nerves, lifting some of the weight off his shoulders.
"Report," Sheppard commanded as he strode to his command chair, his tone brisk and authoritative.
"The Wraith will be here in a few minutes," McKay reported, his eyes flicking back to the screen. "We're cloaked and have two torpedoes ready for transport."
"Good work, McKay," said Sheppard, sinking into his command chair. A genuine, if tired, smile stretched across his face, a rare moment of camaraderie and appreciation for his team.
"I trust that everything went well on the planet?" asked the Canadian, looking at Teyla with a mixture of hope and concern.
"We did what we could," replied Teyla, her voice tinged with sorrow and exhaustion. She moved to her station, her posture reflecting the heavy burden of their mission. "We managed to evacuate as many as possible, but there were so many left behind…"
Sheppard's smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression.
"It's never enough, is it?" he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "But we have to keep moving. We have to keep fighting."
The tension on the bridge was palpable, the crew silently preparing for the imminent confrontation. The hum of the ship's systems and the soft beeps from the consoles were the only sounds, a quiet symphony of readiness.
Rodney's eyes were glued to the tactical screen.
"The Hive ships are entering sensor range," he announced, his voice tightening with the anticipation of battle.
Sheppard leaned forward; his focus intense. "Prepare to transport the torpedoes on my mark. We need to time this perfectly."
Teyla's gaze shifted to Sheppard, her eyes filled with determination.
"We must make this count."
Sheppard nodded; his jaw set in grim resolve.
"Middle ship on the right of their chevron has the most fatigued engine," reported McKay, his eyes glued to the tactical display. "If we target that one, we could trigger a cascade failure in the entire formation."
Sheppard leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "Are you sure?"
McKay nodded, his fingers dancing over the console as he brought up additional data. "Positive. Their engine output is fluctuating. A well-placed torpedo could cause a chain reaction, taking out more of the surrounding ships thanks to its location."
"Alright. Let's do it. Target the torpedo on that ship." he ordered, "as soon as the debris cloud gives us cover, we'll jump back to Atlantis."
McKay nodded his hands moved quickly, inputting the targeting coordinates.
"Torpedo locked on. Ready to transport on your command."
Sheppard took a deep breath, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on him.
"Everyone, prepare for the shockwave." He turned to Teyla, who was watching the tactical screen with a mix of determination and worry.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save more," he said his voice heavy with regret.
"I know John," she replied gently, reaching out her hand to pat his own
"Alright, Rodney," Sheppard said, his voice steady. "On my mark... three, two, one, now!"
McKay activated the transporter, and the torpedo shimmered out of existence, reappearing moments later on the tactical screen as a little green dot inside the targeted Hive ship.
A second later they were momentarily blinded by a brilliant flash. The initial explosion was followed by a rapid series of detonations, each one sending shockwaves through the surrounding ships.
"Direct hit!" McKay shouted, his voice filled with a mix of relief and triumph. "The chain reaction is spreading. Multiple ships are going down." they watched as three hive ships detonated in the centre of the formation the shock wave and debris field spreading quickly.
Sheppard allowed himself a brief smile.
"Good job, everyone. Keep an eye on their movements. They'll be disoriented and the debris will cover our escape."
As the explosions continued to ripple through the enemy fleet, the two small Nova-class ships, laden with refugees, turned and jumped to hyperspace. They had delayed the Wraith as best they could, but with the lives of the refugees on board, they couldn't afford to stand and fight at the next location.
Sending a communication to Atlantis, they informed them of the situation. The mission was only partially accomplished; they had failed to fully destroy the Wraith fleet, but the delay they had caused would allow more time to prepare.
However, as they arrived at Atlantis, they noticed something very wrong.
The city shimmered in the soft glow of the ocean, but there was an eerie stillness that hung in the air, a tension that seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the city. As the Nova-class ships approached the docking bay, they saw emergency lights flashing, and personnel rushing about with a sense of urgency.
"What's going on?" Sheppard muttered to himself, his heart sinking at the sight before him.
McKay furrowed his brow, his fingers flying across the console as he attempted to hail the control tower. "I'm not getting through," he said, his voice tinged with concern. "Something's jamming our communications."
Teyla's eyes scanned the cityscape, her expression troubled. "I sense a disturbance," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something is not right."
As the Nova-class ships touched down in the docking bay, the crew hurried out, their senses on high alert. They were met by a frantic-looking Dr. Elizabeth Weir, her usually composed demeanour replaced by a sense of urgency.
"Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, thank the stars you're back," she said, her voice tight with tension. "We've got a situation."
"What's happened?" Sheppard demanded, his eyes searching Weir's face for answers.
Weir took a deep breath, her gaze flickering to the ships behind them.
"The Wraith attacked while you were away," she said grimly. "They caught us off guard, here on Atlantis."
Sheppard's jaw clenched, a cold fury building within him.
"How?"
"We don't know," Weir admitted, her expression troubled. "But they're here, and we need to act fast if we're going to survive."
The team exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They had fought against impossible odds before, and they would do it again. But this time, the stakes were higher than ever.
"How many?" Sheppard asked, his voice ringing with authority.
"We think twenty," replied Weir. "Zelenka thinks that the scout dropped them off to sabotage our defences."
Sheppard's mind raced as he processed the information. Twenty Wraith infiltrators within Atlantis posed a grave threat, one that needed to be dealt with swiftly and decisively.
"We need to find them," he said, his voice firm. "We can't afford to let them wreak havoc from within."
"We've already started sweeping the city," Weir said, her tone resolute. "But we need to move quickly. They could be anywhere."
"How did the sensors not pick them up," asked McKay's brow furrowed.
"We think they're using some form of jammer."
"If they manage to disable key systems or sabotage our defences…" McKay left the implication hanging for a moment
"We won't let that happen," Sheppard interrupted, his eyes blazing with determination. "We'll find them and neutralize the threat before they have a chance to do any more damage."
Teyla nodded in agreement, her hand resting on her weapon.
"We'll split up and search every corner of the city," she said. "No stone left unturned." Sheppard turned to the rest of the team; his gaze unwavering.
"The Refugees will have to wait here until the city is secure."
… To Be Continued