“We’re not planning on staying there long,” John said. “With the jumper we can reach the ship from the Stargate in a few minutes, and then it shouldn’t take too long to either get the systems running or to know we can’t. Either way, it’s a short trip.” He opened the barn door. “Let’s get going.”
Teyla hung back to go last, Dahlia and Carson chatting amiably ahead of her. It was not like John to be so quick to dismiss any warning, she thought. He was worried about Rodney, imagining horrible things happening every moment that Rodney remained in captivity. She supposed he had been the same when she was in Michael’s hands. She had heard as much from Sam and others. This was no different. John’s team was his family. That had never been more obvious than on Earth, when he thought the team was disbanded forever. It had begun to worry her considerably, what would become of him if Atlantis did not return to the Pegasus Galaxy. He had no other home.
Teyla settled into the copilot’s seat as she usually did, with Carson behind John and Dahlia in the seat behind hers that was usually Ronon’s.
“Ok,” John said, moving the indicators forward, “Punch the gate.”
Teyla pressed the coordinates they had been given, Dahlia looking forward over her shoulder. “This ship is extraordinary,” she said. “I only wish we had one like it.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” John said. He didn’t lift his eyes from his instruments. He knew that Teyla would take that as she did. Still, Dahlia Radim was one person, and even if her backpack held weapons or a bomb Teyla was quite sure she could take her out by herself, discounting Carson and John entirely, if Dahlia tried to take control of the jumper. The only way she could do that would be by threat, as she couldn’t fly it herself.
“I didn’t mean that…” Dahlia began.
“Of course not,” Carson said, but Teyla heard the note of doubt in his voice.
“You can search me if you want,” Dahlia said, the color rising in her face.
John glanced sideways at Teyla.
She shook her head very slightly. “I see no need for that,” she said. “After all, we must learn to trust one another.” Dahlia could not see her face, but John could. He could read perfectly clearly what was there. I will be watching her, never fear. And I can handle her if I must.
“Right then,” John said, replying to her expression as well as her words. “Let’s do it.” He shoved the indicators forward, and the puddle jumper soared through the gate.
Into the middle of a flight of Wraith Darts.
“Crap!” John said, pulling up wildly and rolling like a fish in shallow water as blue fire erupted all around them. Dahlia screamed. Teyla clutched the seat arms and managed to make no sound at all.
Four Darts. No, five. They swarmed around them in a pinwheel as the jumper jinked, John looking for an opening as the ground swam beneath them, wheeling with his spins. With the inertial dampeners on full, Teyla could not have said which way was down, or how far. Not far, surely. They had just come out of the gate. There was no altitude to play with.
There was a bang and a pop, one of the displays behind Dahlia shorting out in a cascade of sparks.
“Bloody effing hell!” Carson said, grappling for the fire extinguisher behind his seat.
The jumper jinked again, and John found an opening, pulling ninety degrees straight up, a full power climb into the indigo sky. The atmosphere was so thin that even at midday the sky had a purplish tinge, a few bright stars showing through. Teyla kept her eyes on one as they climbed, growing brighter with altitude. Another shot rocked them, and then John leveled abruptly, rolled left, and began a power dive back toward the ground. He spun past a Dart so closely that Teyla could see the pilot, his silver hair held back in a dark chain, and then they were past, skimming over the red brown dirt.
“What happened?” Carson shouted, spraying foam liberally in the smoke-filled cockpit.
“We have engaged the cloak,” Teyla said. On the display she could see the Darts hunting behind them, still gaining altitude along the jumper’s last known course. “I think we have lost them.”
“That’s not all we’ve lost,” John said grimly, his fingers white on the controls. “We’ve lost main propulsion and the vertical stabilizers. Carson, can you lock it down?”
Carson looked around wildly. “How do I do that?”
“Maybe I can,” Dahlia said, coming out of her seat. “Where are the control panels?”
“I don’t know!” Carson said.
“You’d better figure it out,” John said. “Fast. Because we’re losing altitude and I’m going to have to land this bird on the auxiliary steering thrusters.”
“Not again,” Teyla said quietly.
John spared her a sideways glance, the ghost of a smile quirking his mouth. “Been through too many jumper crashes with me?”
“The only time it is too many is the last time,” Teyla said, and held on tight.
The ground came up with dizzying speed, reds and browns blurring together. The jumper pulled up, the horizon stabilizing in front of them. They skimmed over the ground heavily, like an injured bird, reds and browns and tans dissolving into canyons and peaks, plateaus and gorges carved by dry rivers.
The jumper shook and John’s left hand flew over the board, a look of intense concentration on his face.
With a bone-jarring thud the jumper sunk into one of the canyons, rock scraping along one side, and came to a stop.
Dahlia and Carson were coughing, foam from the fire extinguisher around them.
John came out of his seat them moment the jumper settled, pistol in hand, pointed straight at the middle of Dahlia Radim’s chest. “I want some answers,” he said.
“It wasn’t me!” Dahlia’s blue eyes were wide, soot streaked across her face. “I swear by everything I hold holy that it wasn’t me!”
“You’re going to tell me that we just happened to run into a flight of Darts the moment we came through the Stargate because of pure dumb luck?” John demanded, his jaw set. “This had nothing to do with the Genii?”
“Why would I do that?” Dahlia yelled back. “Why would I set myself up to get myself killed? If the Darts had blown us to bits I would be as dead as you were! Why would Ladon do that?”
“They weren’t pulling any shots,” Carson said.
“Maybe Ladon didn’t know about it,” John said. “I don’t know. But this was a set up.” He didn’t drop the muzzle of the.45 four feet from her heart.
“Maybe it was,” Dahlia said. “Maybe my brother has a traitor on his staff! But this was not me! This was not Ladon! I had nothing to do with this!”
“John,” Teyla said quietly, but he had already lowered the pistol.
Smoke swam around him in the cockpit, though the fire was out. “Nothing to do with it,” he said skeptically.
“Why would I commit suicide this way?” Dahlia demanded. “There are easier ways to kill you people, you know. We get nothing out of this. Nothing!”
“Is there really an Ancient warship?”
“Yes!” Dahlia’s eyes were wide. “Everything I told you is true!”
“Then why were those Darts waiting for us?” John asked.
“I don’t know!”
“And why haven’t they found us?” Carson asked.
“The cloak is still working,” John said. “And it’s about the only thing that is. We’ve lost the main engines and the DHD.”
“Aw, crap,” Carson said, his face falling. “You mean we’ll have to walk back to the Stargate and dial manually?”
“With a bunch of Darts hanging around waiting for us,” John said. “Oh, and we’re about sixty miles from the Stargate, just to add to the fun.”