Coalition wrote:Given the author, I'd have expected to see skeletal warriors instead of the Enterprise challenging the Wraith for control of the galaxy.
Even more fun, is if the Wraith try and kidnap a few of the troops, to consume them. Surprise - the troops are all robots, and don't provide any fodder for the Wraith. Even bigger suprise, the Lords decide that they need the humans to prosper, for their masters to consume later. All under their control of course (and it requires a massive leap in Necro Lord intelligence).
Time to get scared.
40K:Xenology spoilers.
Necron Lords and Ladies can canonically impersonate humans well enough to trick their way into the Inquisition. As such, I might actually write Stargate: Necrons, at some point.
Anyway, as I'm behind schedule this week, this chapter hasn't been proof-read, so folks, if you see any errors, don't hesitate to point them out. And yes, that is a somewhat camo'ed starfleet ground uniform, which is partly my own spin, I'm assuming that the brown uniform from ST-5 was chosen to blend in with the desert background, and that they have other colours for other enviroments. Of course, it's still not
good camoflage, but it's better than a gold/red shirt.
The cloaking-examination table comes from the TMP novel. Charvanek is a non-continuity name for the Romulan Commander from "
The Enterprise Incident" whom the crew captured, having stolen her ship's cloaking device.
====
Chapter Six – The Renewed Threat
A roughly triangular table dominated the Enterprise’s briefing room with a library-computer access terminal at its heart. Captain Kirk leaned back in a chair in the middle of the table’s nominal head and listened as Spock described the latest developments in the ongoing analysis of the ship’s debris. The Enterprise had taken the opportunity to restrain several of the directionless Wraith fighters, and had eventually gunned the remainder down.
“Doctor McKay has provided a twentieth century computer interface that allows translation of the wraith computers to English, and this has allowed much detail on the operation of the devices inside the captured ships. I am confident that we will be able to successfully give instructions to the Wraith cruiser’s computer, which should allow us to control it.
“I have also analysed the cloaking technology employed by the shuttles on Atlantis. It is highly sophisticated. While we were able to detect the radiological emissions when they carried nuclear weapons, we would not otherwise detect them. They utilise an advanced subspace compression field to achieve propulsion, minimising their ion trail. The effect is similar to the Romulan devices we have encountered in the past. Although it appears more efficient, I suspect that we may be able to fool Wraith sensors in the same way using a replica of the device we acquired from Commander Charvanek.”
Spock seemed uncharacteristically disquieted for a moment, his eyes focussing on some perceived spot on the far wall. “Somehow I doubt that will be causing any political problems in our current predicament,” Kirk said, turning to Captain Scott, who was giving his hands something to do by turning a micro-wrench in his hand, pressing the end to the table and flipping it backwards behind the back of his hand only to bring it back in place. “See if you can make a functioning copy of the device,” he said.
Scotty nodded, “I’ll see captain, but don’t expect miracles…”
“Mister Scott, I always expect miracles from you. It’s your own fault for raising the bar so high.”
In the darkness of the unoccupied wraith cruiser’s belly, six pillars of blue white light shone, splitting apart in concentric rings of brilliance as figures materialised. The
Enterprise’s chief science officer and her chief engineer lead the group, standing proud ahead of the team of science officers. “Well,” Scotty said, “I can see they lack any kind of talent for decoration…”
Spock looked around, “Not ideal working conditions for humans,” he agreed. He took a moment to confirm a reading on his tricorder, before pointing along the corridor, “Aft is this way. You should find the power source back here. I will take Ensign Wong and attempt to gain access to their main computer.”
Scott nodded and drew his phaser, walking off towards the ship’s aft sections. He knew, intellectually, that the ship was empty, and his tricorder seemed to confirm that assessment, but he couldn’t help the eerie feeling that the ship was still occupied somehow.
Teyla Emmagan frowned at Elizabeth Weir, “We’ve searched the city many times, but we still cannot find any more Wraith, except those that were captured in the battle. I still sense many of them, as if one of their ships were still nearby.”
“That’s probably because we kept the crew of the captured ships alive,” Kirk said, as McCoy and he were followed into Weir’s office by two of Everett’s marines, keeping a respectful distance from the pair of them. “Captain James T. Kirk,
Enterprise,” he said, extending a hand.
Teyla shook it peremptorily, and nodded, taking a moment to look into Kirk’s eyes, “Yes, I’ve been told who you are. After a fashion…”
Kirk grinned youthfully, “Yes, I still have no idea what all
that’s about myself.”
“So…” Weir said, “Where are they?”
“We put them in a comfortable little spot on the southern continent. They’re all unarmed and there’s no way they’re getting out of there except by shank’s pony. It’s a stopgap measure. We’re also holding a few on the
Enterprise for questioning.”
“It is unlikely they will give you any information. We’ve had little success doing so ourselves,” Teyla said, having taken a moment to confirm that the Wraith had been deposited well away from the currently deserted settlement of her people, “And you should be aware that they are able to communicate telepathically. Anything they learn about your ship will be communicated to the others.”
McCoy nodded, “Interesting. Even if they don’t talk, I’ll at least get to perform an examination of a live subject.”
Weir nodded, “I’m sure Doctor Beckett would be interested in your results.” McCoy gave an brief look to his commanding officer, who gave a slight twitch of his head.
“I’ll make sure he gets them,” McCoy said.
“So, what brings you down again?” asked Weir.
“A few more questions,” Kirk said, “about the city mostly.”
“Certainly, please, take a seat,” Weir said, gesturing to an empty, ergonomic plastic chair.
Kirk lowered himself down and smiled, “Well, first off, the city seems to have a shield generator, are you aware of it?”
Weir nodded, “Yes, but we can’t make it operate without a zed pee emm – an advanced power generator designed to supply the city’s requirements. They’re handheld devices that generate zero point energy from a subspace bubble; Doctor McKay knows more about them than me though.”
“Impressive,” Kirk said, with feeling, “What’re the benefits of having one?”
“Well, it would allow us to raise the city’s shields, and that would buy us time if we’re attacked again. And it would allow us to open a stargate connection to Earth. I’m sure Doctor McKay could give a list of other useful things that we could do too…”
“I don’t suppose you have any idea where to get one?”
“We’ve only found one active zed pee emm so far, and it’s not exactly available.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Well, it’s currently being held by a religious order that has, err, objected to our efforts to take it.” Weir said.
“They seemed convinced that the Ancients were going to return for the device and use it to fight the Wraith,” Teyla added.
“I see… How far away is the planet?” Kirk asked.
“We do not know. We were told that the zed pee emm would be put into hiding on another world.”
“Well, there goes that plan,” Kirk said.
“Maybe not,” Weir said thoughtfully, “but you probably won’t like it… It may be unacceptable.”
“Run it by me anyway. Those Wraith will be coming back, in greater numbers.”
“You are certain?” asked Teyla, she was, of course, but she had lived with knowledge of the wraith all her life.
“I would,” he said.
Spock sat in the uncomfortable wraith designed chair, but took little notice of its unproductive form after a few minutes. Interfacing the computers the away team had brought with them with the wraith systems was a difficult, and occasionally messy process, but he had at last begun making progress. The control systems of the Wraith bridge were based around a number of triangular podiums, which seemed to have a membrane of touch-sensitive stretched skin, which generated a holographic display in their centre, and Ensign Wong had made some progress in stencilling in English translations of the ship’s labels. Correcting its orbit was a comparatively minor operation, but the systems the wraith seemed to use were nevertheless highly counterintuitive.
The Vulcan tapped a sequence of keys, and was rewarded by the Wraith display changing drastically. He wasn’t quite sure what it was showing him now, but a reasoned investigation would doubtless uncover the meaning of the three dimensional illustration.
Scotty walked along the narrow pathway over the great chasm of the hyperspace void-chamber. It was not exactly a comfortable experience. He looked down over the side railings, and pointed, “The power core is probably that thing down there,” he said, examining the readings on his scanner again, “it’s idling at the moment. It seems to use a lot of the enhancive element that was in those nuclear weapons. Let’s get down there…” he said.
Doctor Weir and Colonel Everett were locking horns once more. He sat, while she paced around the room, looking irate as ever. “I still don’t trust these people, and I certainly don’t approve of a key operation relying on them.”
Weir nodded, “It is just a little worrying when you put it that way, but it’s also the only way we’re going to get a ZPM. And we do need one…” The door to the office sighed open, and McKay bumbled in, “You’ve got to see this,” he said, “quickly.”
He left no time for objections, and disappeared out into the control-balcony, before pointing at the city’s sensors. “What is it?” asked Everett, at last, seemingly bothered by the interruption. The sensors showed a group of twelve white objects, and dozens more, smaller ones with them.
“That,” McKay said, assuming his best ‘I know far more than you ever will’ voice, “is a wraith fleet, bearing down on us. Twelve hive ships, coming to kill us.”
“How long until they get here?” demanded Everett.
“Thirty eight hours,” McKay said.
“Still having doubts?” asked Weir.
“No…”
“The Wraith will never stop. You are doomed,” the young woman said, glaring at McCoy.
He frowned, and pushed her back to lie on the biobed. “They don’t strike me as quitters, no,” he said.
She glared up at him, but seemed not to be physically any kind of threat, perhaps this was, however, because of the security officer nearby, hand on the hilt of his pistol. “And thanks to you, so am I. The Great Awakening has come…”
He pressed the hypo to her bare upper arm, extracting a blood sample, and took a moment to glance at the display above the bed. Walking to his desk, McCoy sat, and plugged the cylinder into one of several ports. After a few moments he looked up, having tuned her prattle out, “well, we’re all going to die some time. But it doesn’t seem like you are going to in the near future. You’re in excellent health.”
“Of course,” she said, sitting up again, “We are well cared for.”
McCoy nodded, “Very interesting, why?”
“It is better to be the right hand of the Wraith than to be in their path.”
“So you do… what?”
“We serve,” she said.
“I don’t think I want to know. You may go now,” McCoy said, “officer,” he said, nodding to the security officer, who walked over, “Take her back to her quarters, put her under confinement.” He pushed off from the desk with his feet, sliding his chair back on a rail and pressed a communicator button on a panel with a viewer in it on the wall, “This is McCoy,” he said, “bring up one of the prisoners.”
Spock stepped off the transporter pad, and looked at Jim, “Captain,” he said, “our mission was successful.”
“Aye!” said Scott, grinning from ear to ear as he stepped down from the pedestal, holding, with two others, a small crate of material, “Can ye get a anti-grav unit for this? He asked the transporter operator, looking at a closet to the side of the room, “It’s heavy as hell,” he said, and after a few moments, they gratefully dropped the crate onto a hovering device, which sank slowly for a moment under the weight.
“What’s in the box?” Kirk asked.
“A nice block of the local mineral we discovered the other day, which should let us do some fun things.”
“Fun?”
“Remember those bombs?”
Kirk grinned, “I see… Fun. Spock, I need to speak with you about something.”
The Wraith officer looked at McCoy with a look of sheer, bottomless contempt, masking something deeper, McCoy felt. It hadn’t taken long – though one of the security officers was being kept in sickbay overnight for observation – to realise that the Wraith were incredibly strong physically, especially in the upper body, hence, the wraith was rather heavily restrained, and being held at phaser-point.
McCoy nodded to the examination table, “Put him out,” he said, and the security officer shot the wraith in the back. He slumped forwards and hit the examination table. The enhanced bio-bed in the Enterprise’s examination room used force fields to provide a means of restraint better than cast rodinium, and McCoy shifted the prisoner’s weight onto the bed, “I actually meant use that muscle relaxant over there,” he said, nodding to one of various hypos on the control table.
“Oh…”
“Doesn’t really matter. Same job.”
Once this business was done with, McCoy took a small pouch of scanning equipment, and punched a button on the table’s controls. The screen by the table came up with a diagram showing the anatomy of the subject, then zoomed in on the wraith’s right hand, “Record,” he instructed the computer, walking to the side of the captive wraith, examining the screen. The prisoner hissed something insensate, and McCoy tutted, “This won’t hurt a bit…” he said, falling back on his favourite medical cliché.
The doctor sat down, and began manipulating various controls, lighting the screen up with a summation of the subject’s DNA, something that reflected its alien origins by incorporating a third pair of bases, common with several federation races. However, the majority of the wraith genetic structure matched with the averaged human genome perfectly. That at least, seemed to provide interesting opportunities.
While the scan continued, McCoy returned to analysing the anatomy of the arm, the major variance from human defaults in the wraith – though they also seemed to possess an interesting heart, and atrophied digestive tract. He stood, and walked over to the table, where the scanned arm had become glassy and indistinct, an application of the cloaking technology of the Romulans, which the Federation generally deemed too energy-intensive to use on starships, in no small part because of the disappointing ability of the Romulans and Klingons to detect its use.
McCoy looked at the storage bladders in the wraith’s upper arm, which supposedly contained a very interesting enzyme-mixture. “Fascinating,” he muttered, then caught himself, “I’ll be growing pointy ears next,” he said, walking off to try and find where Dr. Chapel – Doctor, no less, it was like Kirk thought he couldn’t handle four hundred or so people without another MD to argue with him – had put the biopsy equipment.
McCoy was still grumbling two hours later as he materialised on the balcony of the central tower of Atlantis. It was quite a view, and he paused for a moment to admire the elegantly geometric towers, as Spock, dressed in the camouflaged green tones of a temperate-region assault uniform at his side, entered the control room behind them. The Vulcan seemed surprisingly calm, as he met up with a group of the ‘local’ humans, two of whom Doctor McCoy recognised as McKay and Sheppard. “Are you ready?” Spock asked.
Sheppard nodded. “I suggest taking an inert replacement device,” Spock suggested.
“Humm, right, I’ll go get one,” McKay said, and dashed down the stairs.
Sheppard gestured towards another flight of stairs at the far side of the control room, “After you,” he said.
McCoy leaned on the railings at the side of the ‘gate room’ and watched as a white shuttle descended from an irising doorway in the ceiling. It aligned itself with the metal torus, which began to glow with blue lights on its inner ring, and wavered for a moment before the shuttle disappeared completely. There was a rushing of air and the inside of the alien device lit up, a ‘flush’ of some kind of light blasting forwards, before snapping back to form a well of liquid-light. The ‘gate rippled once, and shut down again.
