It is difficult to find the words to convey the passage through the gate... Perhaps the fact that I had seen it many times on the screen, that I knew about the device's reliability, that... Perhaps my past experience, such as it was, allowed me not to scream with joy as the bluish puddle of the Atlantis Stargate turned before my eyes into a green field bathed in the light of a distant planet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to spot a "mushroom" of a standard Dial-Home Device standing some distance away and slightly to the side of the gate... Но the jumper, moving in a straight line at a breakneck speed, rushed into the distance.
Stargates on planets of the Pegasus galaxy.
Nudging the control yoke toward me, I felt the ship vibrate as it tilted its nose upward. Through the viewport, I could see the approaching snow-white clouds as well as the welcoming sky...
Praying that nothing would happen and that no one had seen my arrival through the gate, I closed my eyes to concentrate.
At first, I thought about orbiting the planet so the sensors could search everything much better. But then I realized I had neither the time nor the desire to venture into space.
And yes, I was a bit afraid that technology which had lain without maintenance for ten thousand years might finally decide to meet its technical god. Falling from a height of a couple of hundred meters seemed much more pleasant than from thirty or forty kilometers. It would be painful, but in the first case, the chances of survival seemed higher.
I really could use becoming invisible right now and learning more about this planet... It would be quite nice, honestly.
The jumper is truly a machine extremely tolerant of human stupidity. If one thinks about it, by reacting to my thoughts, agitated by the flight and being on a new planet, the ship could have done anything. Shut down the engines, for example, or fire its onboard weapons...
Either way, nothing out of the ordinary happened.
The jumper activated a cloaking field, which hid it from both various kinds of sensors and curious eyes. I felt this with some sixth sense and looked straight ahead.
Virtual projections on the viewport, you say? Car manufacturers have a long way to go to reach what I see before me now.
The virtual screen deployed on the inside of the ship's window was peppered with numerous notations.
This is what the pilot's cabin in a jumper and the virtual screen look like.
On one part of the projection, I could see a schematic image of the planet I was on. A lovely little planet.
Though not much larger than Mother Earth, it nevertheless had a vast ocean washing two continents. One was about the size of Earth's Australia, and judging by the sandy landscape, just as desert-like as its prototype.
But the second continent...
Eurasia was like a child's toy compared to it. Massive, it covered the entire northern hemisphere of the planet, crowning it with a giant ice cap. Only much further south, seven or eight thousand kilometers from the equator, did the landscape change to vast plains interspersed with low crags and hills. Full-flowing rivers—which any native of a once-union state would immediately christen Dnipro-1, Dnipro-2, and so on down the list—carried their waters across the firmament, filling numerous lakes, compared to which Lake Baikal or the Caspian Sea would nervously take a backseat.
But the second thing... I really did not like that.
"Hive ship," I muttered, coughing, as I fixed my gaze on the image on the left side of the virtual screen.
Casting my eyes around the screen, I saw a multitude of dots scurrying over the planet's surface. Those, one must assume, were Wraith fighters, dubbed Darts.
This is bad... I don't like what's happening.
"They're supposed to be in hibernation," I grumbled, steering the ship away from the cluster of Darts. And it wasn't easy to pick such a spot—the planet was literally crawling with Wraith.
One must assume a gathering is taking place.
While the cloaked jumper moved further away, I could only be glad that the cloaking system, like the other parts of the ship, was functioning properly. If the Wraith had detected me... It would have been very, very bad.
However, the ship of the man-eating beings was on the far side of the planet. And I would hope their technology isn't so perfect as to detect me immediately after exiting the gate.
It's strange that the gate is even working... I remember the Wraith would activate it during their attacks on humans to prevent the population of the targeted world from escaping. No matter how magnificent the Ancients' technology is, one cannot walk back and forth through the gate when it's activated. You can establish either an outgoing or an incoming hyper-tunnel—in any case, travel is only possible from point A to point B during the activation period. There's no other way.
As far as I remember, for the period of the expedition's arrival in the galaxy, the Wraith should have been asleep for many more years. The Earthlings were the reason they awakened. And an incredible number of aliens thirsting for human "food" pounced on planets across the galaxy.
Until now, I believed the phrase "Wraith in hibernation" meant their ships were on planets, and any gatherings taking place were carried out through the gate exclusively by Darts. Turns out I was wrong.
"And that is not good at all," I whispered, seeing a good dozen fast red marks heading toward the gate. It seems I'm out of luck today—the Wraith detected me and sent Darts to find out what's going on. Bad, very bad.
Through the cloaking field, they are unable to see or detect me, but I also have no time to land somewhere and wait until they get tired of searching for something. It's one thing if the Wraith just saw a blip on their scanners. It's very bad if they determined it was an Ancient ship.
Ancient ships haven't moved freely in this galaxy for ten thousand years. And the Wraith know this perfectly well—they had a hand in it. Direct involvement, so to speak.
On board the jumper there are weapons—drones, self-guided "missiles" of Ancient manufacture. Но, first of all, there are maybe ten of them at most, perhaps a dozen. That's enough to destroy a maximum of a similar number of Darts. And that's if I'm a damn good shot as well as a pilot. Second, even with all the will in the world, I can't destroy the main threat—the Hive ship—with such an arsenal.
Or can I?
I had to dig into my memory to recall everything I know about Wraith flagship ships.
Hive ship. Not an Imperial Star Destroyer, of course, but it can cause so much trouble, you wouldn't believe it...
To put it simply, a Hive ship is a synthesis of a space carrier, with a huge number of fighters and other small ships on board, like Wraith shuttles or something similar. The Wraith live and fly on these ships. And they feed there as well.
Wraith starships do not have shields, like the one that saves Atlantis from flooding. But their ships, like all their technology, are organic in nature. In essence, it is a massive flying ecosystem capable of interstellar jumps in hyperspace and flights in normal space. Only with a huge crew—I think there are up to a thousand Wraith of all stripes on the Hives, after all—energy cannons, and a single point of view on any human. Food. To the Wraith, we are nothing more than food.
But not in the classical sense: meat-bone-fat. The Wraith feed on something like the life force of humans. They are like anti-scientific parasites that in one "sitting" can age a nineteen-year-old youth to the state of a mummy. Thanks to this method of "feeding," the Wraith possess incredible regeneration and longevity. In the series, despite the ten thousand years that had passed since the war with the Ancients, many Wraith remembered those times.
Despite their size, Hive ships are capable of entering a planet's atmosphere and landing. Actually, I thought that during hibernation they landed on secret planets where no one would disturb them. And the Wraith sleep for one purpose—they allow their human herd to multiply. Everyone likes to eat...
On board the Hives, there are special chambers where prisoners captured on planets are kept. Naturally, they are held until the Wraith on the ships decide to snack on "afternoon snacks." And then it's the turn of those who weren't "sucked dry" immediately.
The jumper, following my thoughts, highlighted the gun ports, marching engines, hyperdrive, and sensors on the schematic of the Hive ship... And the longer I looked at it all, the more clearly I realized: I don't stand a chance here.
"The most sensible idea would be to get out of here," I suggested to myself. And I carefully steered the jumper back toward the gate.
Only ten seconds later did I realize this was absolutely not the best option to resolve the situation. It seems the Wraith decided to close a gap in their tactics—the gate is open for passage from Sudaria... somewhere. To another gate in orbit of some planet, to a planet crawling with Wraith, into a trap from which there is no escape, or even directly onto a Hive ship (it happened in the series)—any of those options is hideous.
But a second later, I realized I was mistaken in my assumptions. It wasn't an outgoing tunnel that was open, but an incoming one.
Through which, one after another, five more Darts slipped into the sky of Sudaria, heading in a wedge into the sky. Right, the camp is heading into the sky, and my plans are going down the drain.
A Dart is a very fast, maneuverable, and energy-weapon-armed biotechnological small Wraith ship. Essentially, it's a carbon copy of the jumper, but given the Wraith's backwardness, not as perfect. No shields, no cloaking, but excellent aerodynamics, which allows it to operate both in space and in the atmosphere equally effectively.
On board is a dialing device, just like on the jumper, which means any of the Darts is capable of opening the gate and preventing me from flying away.
Furthermore, on board each Dart is a device that allows for penetration through walls and ceilings, dematerializing, or conversely, materializing objects and organic matter. This is how the Wraith collect people—they fly over them in Darts and turn them into pure energy, which is stored in special buffers on board the ship. Afterward, on their Hive or base, they dematerialized the cargo and get the people back. Usually, due to the technology's effects, they are unconscious and unable to defend themselves.
Very convenient and devilishly well-thought-out.
Wraith Darts.
One must assume the Wraith called for reinforcements. Since these five Darts aren't engaged in hunting people—they aren't flying toward the villages I notice on my scanners. They are dropping off soldiers and officers directly near the spot where I activated my cloak.
And if only it were just these five...
A good dozen Darts were returning to the Hive ship, after which they returned and dropped off more and more Wraith near the gate. I think there's already enough for a couple of companies here.
This means the problems are only increasing exponentially. One must think realistically—if I fall into the hands of the Wraith, they will first interrogate me in the best traditions of mental mages from fantasy books, and then, after coming to Atlantis, they will devour me. After that, one can only envy everyone around.
And while I didn't care much about those "everyone," I wanted to take care of my own skin so much that it would stay with me until a ripe old age. Consequently, it's better not to take any rash actions. This includes postponing attacks on the Hive, the Darts, and the Wraith in particular.
The lovers of feasting on human life were closely linked to each other through telepathy and could easily transmit mental messages to each other over short distances. I know for sure that Queens, who stand at the head of any group of Wraith in a Hive, and officers—that's how I, by the way, dubbed the male Wraith who don't wear face masks—could do this. They are something like commanders, scientists, advisors to the Queens... In any case, I had no desire to meet any of them.
Yes, I have weapons, I have a personal shield, but... One against several hundred? I'm sure I can kill some number of Wraith. But others will come after them. And the shield and weapons will eventually run out of power. Exactly when, I don't know for sure; there was no time to thoroughly study the technology—all my thoughts were occupied with how to get here.
And now, conversely, how to get out. Preferably with a ZPM. It would be absolutely perfect if I didn't drag the Wraith back to Atlantis with me and didn't become the reason they all wake up. If, of course, they haven't woken up already.
I need a good plan.
Wraith officer—in the center. Wraith soldiers... They started wearing masks on their faces even before it became mandatory.
The original plan seemed perfect to me.
No, I wasn't going to do it like it happened in the series: fly to the planet, meet the locals, study their legends about the "Treasure of Quindozium," which is a ZPM, rack my brain over puzzles, then reach the catacombs and find it. Well, and then make a fool of myself, get into a scrape, almost lose the device, win it back, rejoice... and still lose it.
I, however, adhered to a different philosophy.
Find the fortress-like settlement where the plot unfolded, then scan its surroundings to find the underground storage where the ZPM was hidden. Yes, there was a possibility the catacombs would be shielded from scanners, otherwise the Wraith would have found it by now. But remembering that they very rarely paid attention to what was hidden underground if no energy traces emanated from there, it was unlikely. A ZPM, though it is a battery with a huge power supply for various devices, had been here for ten thousand years. And the Wraith had visited the planet but found nothing. So, there's a chance.
More precisely, there *was* a chance. Because I planned to use drones to blow up the upper part of the catacombs, go down there, take the ZPM, and get out before the locals could react to the noise of the explosion or anything else.
The plan was good... but I hadn't expected the Wraith to appear here at all. Yes, I should have thought that since a lot of time had passed since the assumed arrival of the expedition, the situation on the planets would have changed, but... A Hive ship?! A bunch of Wraith on the planet?!
No, life hadn't prepared me for this.
I steered the jumper further away from the concentration of Wraith and began to observe them. It didn't look like they were searching specifically for the ship.
The infantry dispersed through the forest, advancing in small squads of four or five Wraith led by a commander. Most of the Darts continued the hunt for humans, while others orbited over the forest...
As if they were looking for something.
I had a bad feeling.
Something or someone? It's possible that some of the locals managed to escape into the woods, and now the Wraith are hunting them. But... several companies of soldiers against local villagers who haven't even heard of machine guns? Something doesn't add up...
And then one Dart mark disappeared from the jumper's virtual screen, then a second...
This couldn't be a coincidence. Especially since the locals clearly don't have anything like MANPADS or a grenade launcher to shoot down Darts. I didn't believe in piloting errors either. Which means...
Literally a kilometer away from me was a Dart that, noticing the other two ships had vanished, pulled a sharp turn and headed toward the crash site. The turn it pulled was such that any Earth pilot in an Earth fighter would have had a hard time. But on the starships in this universe, there are inertial dampeners, so the pilot and crew don't experience G-forces during maneuvering.
I had no plan on how to proceed, but now some leads appeared. Specifically, the scanners showed that the Wraith were pulling all their forces into the crash area. Three more marks disappeared—judging by the jet trail I managed to spot, someone in the forest clearly wasn't hunting Wraith fighters with a bow and arrows.
The locals are far from that level... Therefore, I have only one thought about what's happening here. The Wraith are hunting someone important.
It seems the Wraith's ancestors told them too often not to play with their food... The kids grew up to be bastards looking like a satanic rock band. Pale skin, exposed biceps, leather clothing, greasy long hair... And they love the hunt.
I feel sorry for the poor soul who became their victim; however, I won't be able to help him. If I were a doctor, preferably a neurosurgeon... But even so, probably not.
Perhaps, when I find the ZPM and risk seeing what kind of guy became the object of the hunt. Maybe it's a certain well-known Satedan... Unlikely. That would be monstrous luck.
But all that is for later. While the Wraith are hunting their stubborn target, I have every chance to scan the surroundings. Especially since, as I managed to notice, there are no local residents left here...
* * *
Somewhere far to the east, a powerful explosion rang out. Jensen almost went tumbling when he heard it.
The residents of Dagan, as Sudaria was now called, had no explosives—he knew that for sure. And he had used up all his supplies of anti-aircraft rocket launchers to get rid of the insolent Darts. It was possible the locals had deceived him after all...
And, truthfully, he hoped so. Therefore, ignoring his fatigue, he dashed in the right direction. Fortunately, he had the opportunity to pick up hidden weapons along the way.
Man adapts to everything.
For three months now, Alvar Jensen had adapted to being a Runner. That was what they called those whom the Wraith used as hunting sport. Or for training their soldiers.
It wasn't known for certain, but it didn't bother him. In the life of a Runner, there is only one rule—don't stop. Wherever you are, wherever you go—the Wraith are following. There's no escaping it. No saving oneself from it. He didn't accept such a life of his own free will—he simply wasn't lucky enough to survive the Hive's hunt for the inhabitants of his planet. They took everyone. Only the former soldiers were left as Runners, allowed to go.
But first, they made it so they couldn't hide from the Wraith on any planet in this galaxy. Alvar thought he could get rid of the pursuit here. But it didn't work.
Without slowing down, he leaped over a fallen tree covered in moss. Landing on his feet, Alvar released an arrow from his bowstring almost without aiming. A Wraith soldier appearing from behind a massive tree ten paces from the Runner took an arrow right in the face.
The metal tip pierced the ugly mask and entered the skull. The Wraith collapsed onto his back, dropping his rifle. The man didn't even look at the dead enemy's weapon—he already had one. Alvar immediately nocked another arrow and continued his run. Even though he had firearms and even energy weapons with him, he didn't use them so as not to demask his position.
Alvar Jensen, Runner.
Yes, the Wraith have a way to find him in any forest, but now they are somewhat busy. Surely they are examining the rocket launcher tubes he threw away to understand how he managed to shoot down so many Darts. It's a shame to lose such valuable weapons, but otherwise the Darts would have simply taken him on board or adjusted the search area.
Now he had wandered into a dense thicket to make their pursuit difficult. The Wraith tried to change the rules of the game and take him with a Dart, but he was ready for it. Never mind, let them run on their feet; it's good for the health.
Especially since he had set many snares and traps in this forest... Perhaps it wouldn't help, but he had to figure out how to resist them.
As if in response to his thoughts, the explosions of anti-personnel mines he had scattered throughout the forest several hours ago, when the hunt for him was just beginning, rang out. Counting the explosions, he smirked— all three had worked. Good, so there are a few fewer enemies.
But none of the explosions compared to the one he had heard earlier and toward which he was now moving. That could mean the creators of the explosion were already dead. And the Darts racing overhead didn't add confidence that everything would be fine by the time of his arrival. Но he simply had no other chances. He only had a couple of arrows left for his homemade bow. The weapon was primitive but effective when one needed to save ammunition for the only rifle he had left. The Wraith stunner he also had wasn't good for killing, only to buy time. Paralyzed enemies would rise again and continue the pursuit.
While he had the opportunity to stock up on weapons from his home world, it was much easier to fight back. Но now... it seems the Wraith were tired of anti-personnel mines, machine guns, and explosive rounds.
His supplies had practically come to an end, and he had planned to replenish them, but failed. The only option was to dial the address of this planet and try to get rid of the "tail" forever. Но misfortune, it seems, is much more favorable to him than its opposite.
A white-blue energy charge, looking like a globule of water, whistled past him. Without looking back, the Runner began to weave between the trees, trying to avoid being hit. A Wraith stunner charge instantly pierces with pain and causes the muscles to relax. After that, only death follows.
His clothes were soaked with sweat, his legs burned like fire, his lungs were about to burst out, but he didn't stop running.
Only after he jumped into a trench where he had set up a position was the man able to catch his breath for a moment.
Peering out from cover, he saw a squad of Wraith approaching him. Five, including a commander dressed in long leather clothes. No other opponents were visible, but that didn't necessarily mean it would stay that way.
Pulling a hidden automatic rifle from under some branches, he leaned against the trunk of a tree growing on the edge of the trench and aimed the weapon at the enemy. The trackers undoubtedly noticed he had stopped and decided to surround him. Perhaps this tactic would work, but certainly not today.
A short burst of powerful rounds blew the head of the enemy squad commander apart like overripe fruit. The soldiers immediately oriented themselves by the sounds of the shots, but he managed to shoot two more before the enemy soldiers opened fire with their stunner rifles.
Only they had big problems with accuracy—all the charges hit the tree. Actually, that's why Alvar had hidden behind it—to minimize the target area of his own body.
It took a couple of minutes to finish off both pursuers. Wraith soldiers, as he had already realized, aren't distinguished by intelligence. Many recruits under his command on his home planet were much smarter.
However, he had nothing against the enemy remaining just as stupid. More of their misses meant more chances for him to survive.
Twice more he engaged in skirmishes with the Wraith, but he couldn't achieve the same result. The enemy began to tighten the "noose" around him, so the only thing left for him was to run.
And hope that ahead, at the site of the explosion, there would be those who would help him deal with the enemy. Too much hope in people unknown to him, but such is life.
It's possible, of course, that the Wraith would give him a chance to rest and recover—they had done so a couple of times before when he had killed a large number of them. Но if there's someone else on the planet threatening them, it's unlikely they'll take a break.
Engrossed in his thoughts, he burst out of the forest onto a spacious meadow. Looking around, he realized there were no Wraith here.
But there was a huge hole in the center of the meadow, which undoubtedly led somewhere underground.
"I hope there are tunnels there," the Runner said.
the Wraith scanner, with which they tracked his movement, didn't have the capability to resolve the path. Therefore, he had managed a couple of times on other planets to lure the Wraith into a swamp. Another time he led them into catacombs and got out, shaking off the pursuers who got lost in the stone labyrinth. Но then a Hive ship wasn't hanging over the planet...
Wraith shots flashed nearby again. The squad pursuing him was about fifty meters away and was shooting more at random than with any real hope of hitting the target.
There is a chance to break away.
The Runner tore the last remaining smoke grenade from his belt and threw it behind him. He had about ten seconds while the Wraith overcame the obstacle. They would clearly decide to wait it out, as in the past he had caught them in various traps using smoke.
And he would have time to flee into the hole and get lost in the catacombs.
Realizing that in open terrain he was an excellent target, Alvar still rushed to run across the meadow. Firing on the move, he estimated that only a few enemy fighters were pursuing him—one squad. Но the others were clearly nearby.
A few meters before reaching the hole, the former military man noted that it wasn't a detonation site, but tracks from a projectile that had crashed into the ground, plowed some distance, and only then detonated. And this track was a trench in the ground, down which one could descend into the catacombs without fear of injury.
A lucky find.
As he approached the trench, Alvar saw a man emerging from underground. A young man, with a military-style short haircut, aged twenty to thirty. And suspiciously cleanly dressed for someone crawling on the ground. Bright clothes, the unfamiliar cut of which seemed suspicious to him. The guy was clutching something glowing with a yellow light to his chest, and in his other hand, he held a strange-looking weapon. And he was rapidly looking around, as if he saw something suspicious...
But no more suspicious than the piercing sound that made the ears ache as soon as a Dart went into a dive.
"There's nothing here!" the Runner shouted to the stranger, realizing he was confused by the Wraith's mental attacks. If one isn't used to it, it seems there are some swift shadows, rustles around... That's how the Wraith confuse their victims. "It's all an illusion!"
The guy looked at him, aiming his weapon.
And the Runner already knew what would happen next.
Without stopping, he knelt on one knee, aiming his rifle at the spot where the Wraith harvesting beam touched the ground.
"Stay where you are!" the stranger shouted to him.
"Move aside, you fool!" Alvar replied, looking for the Dart. The man saw it too.
Raising his pistol, he fired several times at the side of the Wraith fighter when it lowered for its dark deed. The machine avoided two energy charges—mostly due to the shooter's hideous accuracy—but the third struck it in the nose section.
The Dart shrieked louder, and thick black smoke began to pour from the pierced hull. A hit from which it certainly wouldn't return to service.
However, it was already too late.
The transparent harvesting beam of the Wraith, looking like a water surface pierced by bright rays of light, plowed the terrain near them, to the left of the stranger.
Wraith harvesting beam.
But its goal wasn't to collect both men, but, on the contrary, to drop off a squad of Wraith.
Their leader fired a stunner at the stranger, but Alvar had already opened fire, taking advantage of the hesitation. With one burst, he struck down two enemy soldiers closest to him. The squad commander and two other enemy soldiers aimed their weapons at him...
And at that same moment, the stranger, who had fallen to the ground after the shot, unexpectedly rose, knelt, and raised his weapon, pointing it at the Wraith. Only their commander managed to react, refocusing on the sudden threat.
His stunner fired, but it didn't harm the man—the white-blue charge splashed against the illusory green haze surrounding the man. The return shot blew the Wraith's skull away.
Alvar shot another soldier as the stranger finished with the second.
"You have a shield!" Jensen realized, approaching the young man.
The latter, squinting, shook his head.
"And how similar he is!"
"I don't understand," the Runner grew wary, looking at the stranger.
"Everyone has their faults," the latter replied, pointing his weapon at him. The military man, not expecting such a thing, reacted a fraction of a second later than a bright blue energy charge burst from the angular crystal at the front of the stranger's weapon.
Before Alvar could think that he was about to die, he heard a vile sound just behind him—the same sound with which a Wraith had died from the stranger's shot a couple of seconds ago. Turning around, he saw the commander of the squad pursuing him falling to the ground, with a hole the size of a human head in his chest.
But his soldiers, left without a commander, opened erratic fire. About fifteen meters separated them; they had just come out of the forest. It seems the commander decided to sneak up on him and take the Runner's life, which is why he hadn't fired. And the soldiers were supposed to cover him...
Presumption.
Together with the stranger, Alvar dealt with the enemies in a couple of seconds. The guy, even if he hit only once in three shots, his protection allowed him to stand under enemy fire and ignore hits. And with the power of his weapon... whether hitting an arm, a leg, or a head—the holes in the Wraith's bodies were such that no regeneration would help them.
But, just in case, Alvar put two rounds into each of their heads.
"We need to leave," he told the stranger, who was picking a golden thing up from the grass, looking like a large crystal.
There was no time for introductions—the Runner used it profitably, swapping the empty magazine for a loaded one. The second-to-last magazine, by the way.
"Completely agree," the stranger spoke with an unknown accent. A bit rough, but enough to understand him.
"We'll get lost in the catacombs you crawled out of," Alvar pointed to the hole in the ground and took a step there.
But the guy grabbed his hand, causing the greenish haze of the personal shield to glow around the stranger again. And the hair on the Runner's arm stood on end, reacting to the proximity of the energy.
"I have a better idea," the stranger said, nodding his head, inviting him to follow. After that, without giving further explanations, he walked silently across the meadow. "Come with me if you want to live."
Hearing the howl of Darts, Jensen wanted to warn the guy that they needed to get away quickly—not on a stroll, after all. But what he saw made him swallow the unvoiced words.
The stranger, taking another step, literally dissolved into thin air.
"Now that's something," said a smirking Alvar with a hint of admiration and ran after him. Perhaps this was the very chance he hadn't even dared to think about?!
Exactly at the spot where the stranger had vanished, he took a step... and saw before him the dark green hull of a clearly human-built ship. The rear wall was open, and running engines were visible on the sides, flickering with a steady white light.
"Surprise after surprise," the man whistled.
"If you're not in a hurry, you can stay behind," suggested the stranger, who had taken a seat in the part of the ship that was clearly the pilot's cabin. "It'll be less trouble for me. And anyway, nobility leads to no good..."
Without hesitating, Jensen boarded the ship and flopped into the seat next to the stranger. Behind him, with the quiet sound of actuators working, the entrance hatch slammed shut. The guy sitting in the adjacent seat grabbed the uncomfortable-looking control handles and the ship soared upward, pulling away like a candle from their meeting place.
Even though he was surprised by the quality of the technology, Alvar didn't show it. But he couldn't resist looking at the magnificent ship from the inside. The design and patterns reminded him of something...
A glowing image appeared before the cabin window, showing a schematic of their ship. And a blinking red dot on the spot where he sat. But he couldn't decipher the many symbols nearby.
"It didn't work," the stranger said.
"What are you talking about?" Alvar asked, but deep down he already understood what was being discussed.
"The transmitter the Wraith planted in you," the pilot said. "The cloaking field doesn't jam its signal. But it was worth a try."
"Do you have any thoughts on what to do next?" the Runner asked. For now, he had no idea how the ship and its pilot could help, but he wasn't used to giving up. There simply couldn't be a situation where the owner of such a ship, such technology, had no ideas on how to shake the Wraith off their tail!
"Misha," without looking away from the controls, the guy reached out his right hand. Alvar didn't bother to be surprised that he was using a greeting gesture only now and responded as expected.
"Alvar," he introduced himself, deciding that the former stranger had given his name. "Your idea is to introduce yourself? Couldn't you think of anything better?"
The screen changed and now showed a huge number of red dots approaching their ship from all sides.
"Gotta start somewhere," sighed the new acquaintance.