Upon lowering the hatch, Radek found himself buoyed, and he couldn't repress a small yelp of surprise. Zero gravity was certainly a new experience. Almost immediately, however, a panel on the wall of the dock flashed, and a hiss could be heard even through their helmets. His boots sank back toward the deck, and he bounced lightly.
Reacting quickly, Rodney used the wall of the jumper to push off, propelling himself toward the panel. "The station must have sensed our arrival. It's trying to restore pressure and oxygen for us."
"Hospitable," remarked the Colonel, keeping one hand on each of the tool cases they'd brought along as they settled back to the floor. "Why do I get the feeling it's not exactly working?"
Radek swallowed hard. The rapid sensations of rising and falling hadn't done much for his equilibrium. A shudder ran through the station, muted because of the lack of gravity. He grabbed onto the edge of the jumper nonetheless.
"Because there isn't enough power," Rodney replied, still studying the panel. The combination of the radio and helmet gave his voice a nasal overtone. "If I'm reading this correctly, the station's got about two percent of its reserve left, and apparently it just tried to draw more than that for the environmental system. That little jolt may have been a bit like our attempt at operating the transporter in the Hall-the equivalent of blowing a fuse."
"Now you're okay with simplified explanations. So we're going to be bouncing around in half a G the whole time we're here?" Sheppard asked.
"It's all we've got, Colonel. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it. As you're always reminding me, your equipment's heavy."
The cases were indeed pleasantly easy to move in the semi-gravity environment. Radek carried one down the sterile gray corridor, acclimatizing himself to the added spring in his step. The repeating geometric pattern on the walls looked to be more decorative than descriptive, so they relied on the map they had recovered from the black box. Rodney called it up on his datapad and held it out in front of him while he led them through the winding corridors. A left, another left, then a right. Through it all their surroundings never seemed to change.
"Sometimes," Sheppard commented as they walked, "I wonder if the Ancients are playing a practical joke on us, what with all the weird crap we get into. Then we end up in a rat maze like this, and I know they're screwing with us."
Radek found that viewpoint difficult to dispute.
"The control room for this segment is just up here," Rodney said brusquely, lengthening his already bounding stride to reach an access ladder. Rather than beginning to climb, he stood at the foot of the ladder and waited for Sheppard to bring up the rear. "Why don't you go up first, and we'll hand the tool cases up to you?"
It was hard to tell through the helmets, but Radek suspected the Colonel was watching his teammate with mock surprise. "Don't tell me you're creeped out by the ghost station, Rodney."
"Nice work, Colonel Horror-Movie Cliche. You're just asking for a mummified Ancient to fall out of a broom closet on you. Climb, will you?"
Dutifully, Sheppard climbed, his oversized boots fumbling slightly on the rungs, and opened the hatch above him. Radek held both tool cases and handed one at a time up through the gap. His own climb was even less graceful. At last Sheppard reached down and hauled him up by his arms, resulting in a slow-motion tumble to the deck on the higher level.
Radek's head banged against the inside of his helmet. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself upright. The control room resembled a ship's bridge, with a long window dominating one side. The adjoining wall consisted of a huge docking port: an oversized, sealed-off version of the one they'd used for the jumper. This had to be the junction point for the missing gate segment of the station. Had he been present ten thousand years ago, he would have seen a Stargate standing here instead of a bulkhead.
"Aha." Sheppard approached a familiar-looking console in the center of the room. "Come on, Rodney, shake a leg," he urged. "Looks like the dialing computer's going to have to come out of here in pieces."
Another console had caught Radek's attention, glowing with a single line of text in red. He had yet to encounter a form of technology where red did not mean something undesirable. "Rodney!"
"Keep your pressurized pants on," Rodney grumbled, hoisting himself up onto the deck.
"You must translate this." Radek tugged him over to the console almost before he'd gained his footing.
After only a moment, Rodney paled behind his transparent visor. "It's a proximity alarm. We must be close to some of the wreckage."
"No kidding."
That statement of dismayed awe came from Sheppard, who stood stock-still at the window. Both Radek and Rodney crossed the room to join him-and Radek felt his stomach lurch in a manner that had nothing to do with the reduced gravity.
The Wraith cruiser he had seen earlier from a distance was no longer quite so distant. Situated below them from this angle, it grew slowly but steadily in the window.
"Are we that unlucky?" the Colonel asked bleakly. "These things have been up here for ten thousand years, and they choose today to collide?"
"We must have exerted enough force when we docked to alter the orbit," Rodney breathed, hurrying back over to the console with a demented pseudo-skipping gait. "Even if the station has some kind of a stabilizing system, there can't be enough power left to run it. Objects in motion will continue that motion until acted upon by an outside force, remember?"
Sheppard's expression turned dark. "That Newton was a real son of a bitch."
"How long until impact?" Radek asked.
Rodney checked the readout. "Assuming we don't cause any further alterations to the orbit-eighty-one minutes."
"Okay, it took us about fifteen to get here from the jumper. Give it a little cushion because we'll be carrying a whole bunch of parts…" Chewing on his lower lip, Sheppard looked at the scientists. "Let's see how much of the dialer we can disassemble in fifty minutes."
Radek closed his eyes. It was confirmed: he worked with madmen. Murmuring a short prayer, he opened one of the tool cases and slapped a screwdriver into the Colonel's glove. "Three will accomplish more than two. Just do not touch anything unless or until you are told."
Teyla went quickly to the gate-room as soon as she heard the activation announcement. When she arrived, Ronon was already there, watching the Marines file out of the event horizon. To her surprise, Carson was the last to emerge before the gate shut down.
Ronon's gaze sharpened. "Where's Dr. Weir?"
"She and Major Lorne stayed behind. I'm meant to send Sekal back with the Marines to aid in proving the Cadre's existence to the Falnori and Nistra leaders." The doctor spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "I can't imagine how Dr. Weir thinks she can avoid a war at this point. ANistra group came in and took control of the gate not long ago."
"ANistra group?"
"Aye, working for Minister Galven. He called them hunters-said they'd allow him to negotiate from a position of strength." Carson sighed. "If you call that negotiation."
Exchanging a look with Ronon, Teyla saw her concern reflected in his eyes. Since the miners' greater exposure to adarite weakened them, it made sense that hunters would compose the majority of the Nistra force. And that meant… "Ilar," she said quietly.
Ronon's response was grim. "And Dantir."
A silent understanding reached, they moved as one toward the main-level doors and the weapons lockers just beyond. "Wait a minute," protested Carson, trailing behind them. "What do you two think you're doing? Where's Colonel Sheppard?"
"He took McKay and Zelenka to the station orbiting 418 to get a dialer and shield for the Nistra gate." Ronon strapped his sword to his back.