Lorne passed through a particularly thick bank of ferns, and the undergrowth grew suddenly sparser. The ground sloped upward steeply. He raised a hand to slow the others and climbed the slope carefully. Insects buzzed around his face, but he ignored them. There was a sound in the distance, a droning hum that rose slowly.
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Lorne muttered, as he crept to the top of the ridge and peered over into the valley beyond. His feeling was right. In the distance, a Wraith Hive ship rested while all around it darts flew in and out. There was movement on the ground as well — it was obviously a community built around the ship.
Lorne watched for a few moments. He noted the roads and trails around the ship, specifically one that led in the direction of the gate. No one moved along it at that moment, but it was obviously intended to lead to the Stargate. Lorne slid slowly down the hill and gestured for the others to retreat. He held his silence until they were back beneath the cover of the trees and vines.
“We have a problem,” he said. “A big problem.”
He quickly informed Gravel and Verdino on the situation. Gravel reached for her radio but Lorne grabbed her hand and stopped her.
“We go back under radio silence. We also have to find a way to minimize reports to Atlantis. Anything we say could be detected or picked up by the Wraith. Opening and closing that gate is going to tip them off for sure, if it hasn’t already. If they find out we’re here, we won’t be able to hold out for long.”
“They must know the gate just activated,” Verdino frowned.
“Probably, but it’s possible they have regular traffic of their own. We’re going on the assumption they haven’t noticed us, and we’re going to lie as low as possible. We have to hold out long enough for Sheppard’s team to come through. We aren’t here to engage the enemy.”
“That’s a good thing,” Gravel said. “We’re good, but…”
Lorne shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, not that good. We’ll get back to the others before they dial Atlantis to check in. Last thing we want is a firefight. We’re here to bring people home safe, not offer up more casualties.”
They made their way quickly back through the jungle.
“The trail I saw would come in from the far side of the gate,” Lorne said, keeping his voice low. “We were just lucky choosing to move off to the right. We have to make use of the cover they’ve grown to hide the gate. If we use it to our advantage, we might be able to lay low long enough to remain undetected until Colonel Sheppard comes through.”
They hurried back through the jungle toward the gate. Verdino, still bringing up the rear, kept a careful watch on the jungle, and on the sky above, but there were no sign of Wraith, or darts.
On the hive ship, a Wraith warrior stood, staring up at the cliff where Lorne had lain only moments before. A flicker of light had caught his eye, and he was trying to focus across the distance and determine the source. There was nothing to see, but he glanced in the direction of the gate and frowned.
He turned and strode into the ship. He made his way through to the control room and stepped up to the main console.
His subordinate looked up from his work. “What is wrong?”
“I saw something out near the Stargate. It is probably nothing, but I want to check the logs.”
The screen lit up and his fingers danced over the controls easily. He stopped and stared at the screen for a moment, then spun quickly away.
“I want a patrol in the area of the Stargate immediately,” he said. “Send two darts.”
Moments later, the small ships shot out from the side of the hive ship and rolled, banking toward the gate.
“Who are you?” the Wraith mused softly. “And where did you come from?”
His answer was silence as he watched the darts disappear low over the jungle growth in the distance.
They heard the darts before they saw them.
“Get down,” Lorne called. “Stay low and whatever you do, maintain radio silence.”
The Wraith craft roared over the gate, one banking off to either side. They began maneuvering in a zigzag pattern over the trees and growth, searching for any sign of intruders. The team hunkered down and pressed back into the trunks of trees and beneath hanging vines. The darts came over again, and again, but eventually they shot off into the distance in the direction they’d come.
“We’re going to have to pull back further from the gate,” Lorne said softly. “If they’re checking the area, then someone has figured out that the gate was opened. They may not know for sure that anyone came through, but they’ll be watching, and they’ll be patrolling. We have to be vigilant, quiet, and patient.”
Verdino glanced in the direction of the darts. “What if they attack?”
“We could pull back to Atlantis,” Lorne said. “Probably. We ought to be able to activate the gate and get through it, but what then? If we retreat and Sheppard manages to get off that death trap moon and through the gate, he’ll just be walking into another death trap.”
“Just asking,” Verdino grinned. “I vote we fight.”
“I vote we try to stay out of sight and avoid trouble,” Gravel cut in. “We should be able to lay low for a few hours. If Rodney’s message is accurate, and Zelenka got it right, we shouldn’t have to be here too long.”
They all nodded, and then settled in. None of them was thinking about retreat, or safety. All of them, at one point or another, had worked with Colonel Sheppard, or Teyla, or even Ronon. They had come on this mission to bring that team home; that was what they’d do.
The eerie quiet of the jungle and the alien sky overhead had taken on an ominous aspect; they knew the Wraith were nearby. All they could do was to wait.
Chapter Thirty
Rodney shook his head, and immediately regretted it. He tried to sit up, and the room around him wavered. His head felt heavy…then his memory cleared, and he realized he was still wearing the helmet. The visor had popped open from the impact. He turned. There was still a break in the wall between him and the arena, but it flickered with an odd translucent light. Some kind of shield had been erected, and from the sound of the cheers and screams from the other side of that shield, the show had continued.
Moving more slowly, he rose. Nothing was broken, but that was no surprise. He reached under the armor and fingered the small device he wore around his neck. It was intact and Rodney grinned.
The room was dark. There were few lights, and in the shadowy interior he saw the detritus of battle scattered over the floor and piled against the walls. Racks of weapons lined one walclass="underline" swords, pistols, blades of all shape and size, as well as bows, crossbows, exo-skeletal suits, and armor. The variety was impressive, but it was obvious that in recent times whoever was in charge of maintenance and cleanliness had found a better use for their time.
Now the floor was also piled with the dead. The fallen creatures from the arena had been dragged in and left, some piled atop one another, the larger ones lying and stiffening on their own. Rodney saw, a few yards away, the carcass of the dragon. He stared at it for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he’d killed it.
The horse lay on one side a few feet away. It didn’t seem to have been harmed, but it was as silent and still as it had been the moment he first laid eyes on it. The lance lay nearby as well.
“Well,” Rodney said to no one in particular. “This is just swell.” He kicked at the handle of the lance and it skittered across the floor.