"We have achieved a stable orbit," Radek said.
Yes, the city said. All is well. Lines of force flowed about the world, easy to direct, easy to choose a path that looped the city around the world in a high equatorial orbit. There.
John opened his eyes. "Okay," he said into the headset. "I think we're good."
Chapter Seventeen
Ronon's Decision
The Pride of the Genii had no trouble maintaining the link to Atlantis; it had a bit more trouble collecting the Hammond's transmission, and Lorne suspected it might be taking the feed from the city rather than from the Hammond directly. He and Radim had retreated to what had probably been intended as a secondary control room, but which Radim had co-opted as his personal suite. One wall was covered in display screens, the feeds from the Hammond and Atlantis surrounded by the ever-changing status of Pride of the Genii herself. In the corner, Radim's cot, half-hidden by a tent-like drape for at least the illusion of privacy, looked entirely incongruous. One of Cadman's Marines had managed to make coffee, and Lorne clutched his travel mug in both hands.
In the main screen, General O'Neill was frowning down at something, presumably the tactical screen, while Woolsey had his eyes fixed on the camera. Sheppard appeared a moment later, looking predictably rumpled, and O'Neill looked up with a silent question.
"Sorry, sir," Sheppard said. "I had to get Beckett settled in the chair."
Lorne filed that for reference — they wouldn't want to ask the city to do anything complicated if Beckett was flying her, and they probably wouldn't want to try launching drones, either. In the second screen, Colonel Carter was talking to her exec, but turned back to face her camera.
"We're good to go, sir."
Lorne looked at Radim, who nodded for him to go ahead. "We're ready, too, General."
"And is there any further word from your potential ally?" Radim asked.
"Unfortunately, nothing new," Woolsey answered. "Todd — Guide — still intends to sit this one out."
Radim made a face, but said nothing.
"Do we know yet if the hives are using their new shields?" Carter asked.
"Zelenka says we're not seeing the new power signature," Sheppard answered. "But you know how much that means."
"Well, maybe they decided it didn't work the way they wanted," O'Neill said.
"More likely they couldn't make it work without the ZPM McKay stole for them," Carter answered. "That would be nice."
Sheppard grinned. Lorne repressed the childish urge to cross his fingers. Yes, it would help if the hives weren't shielded, but they were still outnumbered and outgunned.
"Gentlemen," Radim said. "Major Lorne has come up with an idea that I think will be effective."
"Go ahead, Major," O'Neill said.
"Sir." Lorne straightened his shoulders. "If we and the Hammond were to make a short jump, to bring us into range of Queen Death's fleet, we could do a quick hit and run, do some solid damage and get back out again before they come in range of Atlantis."
"Carter?" O'Neill asked.
"Sir, I agree. The microjump is a little dicey, but I think it's worth it. Their weapons have always been shorter-range than ours. We'll jump in, hit them before they can close, and jump back out again."
Sheppard was nodding. "I like the sound of anything that takes some pressure off the city. We're pretty maneuverable for something this size, but we're not going to be dodging any of their fire."
O'Neill looked at Woolsey. "What about the remaining civilians?"
"We've assigned anyone who doesn't have an immediate duty post to one of several interior rooms that Dr. Zelenka identified as the most protected," Woolsey answered. "They're to proceed there as soon as the fighting starts — or sooner, if so ordered."
"That seems to cover it," O'Neill said. "Carter. You're sure this microjump thing is going to work?"
"Yes, sir," Carter answered. "You saw the Wraith do it, and we have finer control over our hyperdrive."
"All right. When can you do it?"
Carter looked slightly guilty, and Lorne cleared his throat. "Uh, we've already made the calculations, General."
O'Neill shook his head. "Of course you did. All right, Colonel, Major, you have a go."
"Thank you, sir," Carter said, with a quick grin, and Lorne glanced at Radim. The Genii leader nodded, and Lorne cut the connection.
"So," he said. "Do you really think this is going to work, Major?"
"Yes, sir," Lorne said. He picked up his P90, slung it over his shoulder. Not that he actually needed it, or he certainly hoped he didn't, but given that all the Genii went armed, he felt more comfortable with the weapon slung around his neck.
"It's fairly common knowledge that it's dangerous to open a hyperspace window too deep into a sun's gravity well," Radim said. "And I've figured out enough about the workings of this ship to know that it's not exempt from that limit."
Lorne hesitated. "That's true. It's tricky, and we could end up shredded. Or blow out the hyperdrive and end up trapped in the system. But — it's the best idea we've got."
"Sadly." Radim smiled. "All right, Major, let's do this thing."
Sam sat down in her big chair. "Ok," she said. "Ready for the microjump. Ikram?"
"Just another moment, ma'am," Ikram said, bent over his forward console.
"Fine," Sam said. The last thing she wanted to do was rush the navigations. An in system microjump had to be extremely precise. "Let me know when you're green." She opened internal communications. "Everyone secure for the microjump, please."
"Bay doors are secured," came the swift reply. The Hammond's landing bays were the most vulnerable part of the ship, and for hyperspace entry it was best to physically close the doors in addition to the energy shield.
"Okay, boys," Mel Hocken's voice carried easily on the line. "The garage is zipped up. Everybody take a minute to make one more run through. There's not going to be time when we revert. I'm in the A lane. Jimbo, you're right behind me."
"Right behind you, boss," confirmed Lt. Pulaski. "I've got Ellis and Mitchell in the B lane behind me."
"Confirmed," Hocken said.
Sam tried not to smile, listening to the familiar litany of the launch order confirming. Cam wouldn't like being fourth, with Teal'c behind him fifth, but it wasn't his show. The first two 302s at the front of the bay, side by side, were the A lane, the B lane the two behind them, the C lane the two behind them and so on. Needless to say, everybody had to wait their turn or there would be a big problem.
"I have the calculations," Ikram said.
Sam nodded. "Let's do it. Everybody, prepare for microjump. On my mark."
The Hammond leapt forward, starfield blurring for a moment, almost a blink rather than the usual elongation of stars, and then before she could draw a breath they were out again, almost on top of the enemy.
"Rail guns online," Davies announced.
"Fire as you bear," Sam said into the comm.
The rail guns opened up at the same time that the bay doors opened, the first pair of 302s hitting full turbos and launching into the night.
Hit and disengage — that was the name of the game. Mel Hocken spun her 302 into a hard left bank, shots telling in a long furrow along the hive ship's hull. The Hammond and the Pride of the Genii provided covering fire, the white angel streaks of Ancient drones slashing one at a time through the dark. The first time she'd seen them had been over Antarctica, General O'Neill launching them from the chair against Anubis' fleet. They'd been outnumbered and outclassed, twenty 302s against seventy or eighty death gliders — all the 302s there were, every one that had ever been built. It was the first time they'd engaged, and it stung. They'd lost nine out of twenty, including Colonel Mitchell, but Mel had been lucky. Well, lucky and good. She never discounted that.