"...I've never seen anything like this technology," a male voice said. The source was somewhere nearby, but no matter how much I wanted to see what was happening around me, I decided to keep my eyes closed for now.
There's another trick here – even if you don't know it, the movement of your eyes under closed eyelids is visible from the outside. Therefore, it's better to keep your eyes in one position.
After all, I have hearing.
And also hands tied behind my back, legs bound at the ankles. And it's kind of cool here.
It took a few seconds to understand my position. It turned out I was sitting on the floor, leaning my left side against the wall. Great, I can try.
Opening my left eye slightly, I saw my legs and chest. So, what do we have?
I'm sitting against the tunnel wall, near the entrance to the room I was about to ransack. A medical supply depot. And it seems to have already been breached.
Opposite me, the stern of the "jumper" is visible, and the ship's condition doesn't inspire confidence. The ramp is open, and the internal bulkhead separating the cargo and passenger compartments has been brazenly broken. I don't know how much time and effort these guys spent, but they pried open the doors.
So Chaya might be their captive.
Inside the ship, I counted two – one was pretending to understand something about the tilted control panels with crystals in the stern, the second was doing the same over the instrument panel. The absence of lighting in both cases indicates that the ship has no power.
This is almost good, meaning they didn't get the "jumper." This is also good, meaning none of them have the Ancient gene.
But it's also bad – they're clearly not looking at all this out of idle curiosity. I think they saved my life not out of altruism either. Otherwise, they wouldn't have shot me.
Judging by the sounds, other people of an unknown enemy are working in the rooms I intended to raid. I wonder how many of these bastards are here?
Besides being knocked out – and quite a while ago, since my chest doesn't hurt – I was tied up and stripped of everything they could take. Body armor, greaves... Well, they left me my suit and boots.
But they took my weapon, scanner, and personal shield.
Your affairs are shit, Lord.
I'm convinced for the second time that I need to keep the shield on constantly. The option to activate it at the last moment turned out to be stillborn.
Well, okay, now I need to figure out what's going on here and if these guys can be negotiated with.
"Are you sure?" another voice continued. Peeking slightly with my right eye, through my eyelashes, I could see a couple of men talking to each other. The hope that at least one of them would be familiar to me didn't work. One stood with his back to me, the other I saw for the first time. At least, I didn't remember him from the series.
"More than," the owner of the first voice assured. "No microchips, no familiar wires. Everything is made of glass or a similar material. This is definitely not the development level of the inhabitants of Ermen. Here, look," through my closed eyelids, I saw him hand my personal shield to the second man. "I'm sure this isn't a jewel."
"A more developed culture?"
"Yes. That green stone, and the energy pistol confirm it."
"Did the woman say anything?" the shaved nape inquired. M-m-m... Quite specifically shaved, shorter, with an uneven edge. It's becoming clearer what's happening here.
But it doesn't make me feel any better.
"She's silent," the first replied with disappointment. "We almost drowned her in a barrel, but she refuses to answer, even despite the beatings."
Ah, you bastards...
"Rip out her nails and break her bones," the Shaved Nape ordered. Looking closer, I saw my pulse blaster on his belt. Well, well, you probably don't know about the unkilled bear. Alright, just let me untie my hands, and I'll explain. "She definitely knows how to start the ship – she already tried to fly away from us. I won't leave such technology here!"
"I understand, Commander. But perhaps we should send her to her home world and return for the ship later?"
"Imagine what honors will await us if we bring not only supplies from the Ermen warehouses, but also this ship? How will our authority grow if we succeed without outside help?" the Shaved Nape asked. "We still have time. Work."
"Yes, Commander."
They are dressed the same as those two who were rummaging inside my ship. In a kind of uniform, but unfamiliar. Dark blue pants, beige shirts worn untucked, dark jackets with fur collars. No insignia, no chevrons. But the very fact that two are dressed the same leaves no hope – these are not just marauders.
The thought that these guys are familiar with Jensen now also seemed incorrect. Another soldier came out of the armory, who was looking with interest at an anti-personnel mine like a "Claymore" or our fiftieth "monkey." Oh, damn it, you piece of an idiot, why are you pulling the pin, you imbecile⁉
"Don't touch it!" the one standing with his back to me roared at the soldier, covering the distance in one long stride to the one who hadn't yet joined the ranks of Darwin Award contenders. "This is a directional anti-personnel mine! Pull the pin – and we'll all be killed here!"
"S-sorry, Commander!" the fighter began to stammer. The "Commander" snatched the dangerous toy from him, landed a direct punch to the jaw, causing the initiative-taking imbecile to fall to the floor. "Get this idiot out of my sight!"
The owner of the first voice I heard hurried into one of the warehouses, almost dragging the young idiot by the hand.
The Shaved Nape, however, turned to me, allowing himself to be examined. It didn't take me long to recognize him.
"Stop wasting time," he said, looking at me. "We need to sort everything out as quickly as possible."
Oh, damn it, things aren't just bad. They're "shit and nowhere to go!"
No, he didn't notice that I had regained consciousness, because... he was looking somewhere behind me.
"Don't worry, Father," a female voice came from behind, simultaneously accompanied by a kick to my kidneys. "I think I know who will help us."
Without any reverence, I was lifted up, punched in the gut (very professionally, I must say), and then pushed back against the wall. Simultaneously, the cocking bolt clicked.
"I've been waiting for you to come to for a long time," the red-haired girl said with barely concealed irritation, aiming a massive pistol at me. "Start talking before I shoot you."
Coughing, I looked at the girl, then at the man standing next to her. The difference between them is about twenty years, but... The resemblance is very superficial. To be precise, it's almost non-existent.
Red curls, a simple face without any signs of intelligence, medium height... Nothing outstanding about her – neither front nor back. Legs... Well, so-so, a figure like a teenager.
A kind of combat hamster. You expect saliva to run.
"Lower your weapon," the Shaved Nape ordered, approaching the girl. "I need him alive. For now."
"But he's been out for so long!" the girl exclaimed indignantly. "We could have gotten what we wanted from him long ago!"
"Three shotgun slugs could have killed him!" the Shaved Nape shouted. "I gave the order – shoot the legs!"
"I waited like a fool for him to come to..."
"Well, why like a fool," I chuckled. "You could have just kissed him, whispered something affectionate in his ear..."
The man reacted to my movement with a warning growl, raising his pistol. The girl with the gun put on her face a semblance of rage.
"I said – lower your weapon," the man said in a commanding tone. "Go to the woman and continue the interrogation. Varelon will be busy with her for a long time."
"Right, Sora," rummaging in my memory, I recalled the name of this crazy doll with a mimicry deficit. "Listen to what Daddy says. Tyrus, how are things?"
Both Jenai, taken aback by what they heard, exchanged glances.
"Father, I..."
"Go," Tyrus squeezed out, giving the two soldiers a look to take me away from the corridor.
Sora Tyrus.
The girl, casting an angry glance at me, put her pistol back in its holster, then walked towards an open warehouse. From there, I carried ammunition. The one whose voice I heard first also went there. Varelon, it seems.
So Chaya is there. It's strange that I don't hear a single sound coming from there.
"I see you don't have a favorite daughter," I said as the soldiers, grabbing me under the arms, dragged me to an empty medical supply warehouse. Those bastards, they've cleaned everything out here!
"What makes you think so?" Tyrus asked.
"Do you deliberately not tell her that weapons need to be kept on safety?" I inquired. "Or is it because she's not your biological daughter that you treat her like this?"
"What?!" I was thrown to the floor, and Tyrus, with a face contorted with rage, loomed over me, barely restraining himself from shooting me. "Now, repeat that lie you just told?!"
Tyrus, Jenai.
"Easy, easy, Tyrus," I said, not taking my eyes off his hand holding the pistol. "You don't want to kill the only pilot of this ship in the entire galaxy."
"You're right," he hissed, returning the pistol to its holster. "But I won't let what you said slide."
For the next five minutes, he beat me like a punching bag. In reality... Well, I have some experience, so I can authoritatively state – street thugs on Earth kick more professionally.
"Finished?" I asked, feeling like I'd need a couple of new kidneys.
"Say that one more time and I won't look..."
"You'd better not look at me, but at the redheads nearby," I said. "Believe me, a representative of a civilization that has more experience in genetics than the Jenai – the gene for red hair is incompatible with black hair like yours. It's dominant over light hair, but suppressed by black hair. And you, as I see, don't look much like a redhead..."
In reality, this is complete nonsense. I can only say with certainty that I have no idea what is dominant and what is recessive. But the main thing is to say it with confidence to sow doubt.
"You're lying!"
"Is that all you care about?" I asked. "Not that I know both your names, not that you are a family, not that despite your disguise, you are Jenai."
"Yes, that interests me too!" the Jenai said after thinking. "How do you know that?"
"Telepathy, my friend," I grinned when I saw the soldiers behind Tyrus exchange glances. "Not as strong as it could be with an amplifier, but..."
"He could have heard about it while pretending," one of the soldiers offered a sensible idea.
"Correct, dim-wit," I agreed. "And I can also say that you pretend to be farmers on your home planet, live in an underground bunker, and are developing nuclear bombs, which you hope to test on the Wraiths in about five years..."
Tyrus darkened, looking at me.
It seems the soldiers clearly couldn't say any of this. They are all too cautious here. Secrecy.
"Tyrus," I whispered, calling the elder, apparently, Jenai here. "I'm not too sure, but... Is it okay to talk about the spy network among the galactic peoples and the data storage device you obtained from a downed Wraith 'arrow'? Because I don't know if the grunt soldiers are privy to such secrets. But there's a lot of interesting stuff in your head..."
Yes, the Jenai have such secrets.
"I don't know who you are, but..."
"Oh," I feigned surprise. "You should take care of the safety of your scientists. Working with radioactive materials without reliable protection can be fun, of course. Especially when you start dying of cancer and glowing at night... But I think your commander is smart enough to figure out on his own not to believe the scientists that everything is fine. Remember how bad Radim's sister is!"
Another Jenai named Radim came to mind because his sister, like him, was a scientist. In known events, she, along with other scientists, received severe radiation exposure, so she was useless to the Jenai. She was used in a suicide mission, so...
"Enough!" Tyrus roared. "You will answer my questions!"
Hmm... What a slowpoke. No, why not be impressed...
"As you wish," I shrugged. "Our initial acquaintance is, of course, not great. But we could cooperate. Perhaps I would help you work out the problems with separating uranium-235 from uranium-238 and finish the bombs..."
"We've already finished them ourselves," Tyrus grinned. "With the help of the Ermen archive on energy."
Damn it...
Think-think-think...
"Don't mistake wishful thinking for reality," I advised with a smile. "You're certainly great, you found where to profit. But compared to my technologies, what the Ermen have is just an appetizer before the main course. You understand, my ship is not from this world. And it's head and shoulders above everything that was here."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Tyrus grunted. "They have many interesting things. Including anti-radiation drugs that will help our scientists."
"Glad for you," I shrugged. "And did they also have cloaking technology to make the ship undetectable on scanners and visually?"
The soldiers exchanged glances again. And a vertical wrinkle appeared between Tyrus's eyebrows.
"Can their ships also fly through gates?" I continued to pique his interest. "Or perhaps they have homing missiles so powerful that one is enough to destroy a Wraith cruiser?"
"You're lying," but the greedy fire in his eyes already spoke for itself.
"Well, then check it," I grinned, nodding towards the pulse blaster hanging on his belt. "You can judge the power of our technologies by what our pistol can do."
Ah, it's a shame I deceived Alvar then, telling him it worked on genes...
Tyrus glanced at the weapon.
"Don't be afraid," I encouraged him. "Shoot the wall. But, of course, it's better not to do it underground."
"Why?"
"Because the charge of the shot is such that there will be a hole about five meters in diameter in the wall. Do you guess what will happen if the structure is compromised?"
"We'll test it later," he said, licking his lips. "Now, you'll tell us how to launch the ship and its weapons."
It seems the guy's head has really been blown off. I know a little about interrogating prisoners of war. So, Tyrus is asking the wrong questions. Definitely not the right ones for a soldier and scout.
But for a person trying to stand out in a militaristic society by acquiring more advanced technologies... If he didn't lie and the Jenai have improved their atomic bomb with the knowledge hidden here, then he clearly needs something more.
A stealth ship with drones is at least a little like that.
As I thought, playing on greed is the best approach.
"Easily," I agreed. "Oh, yes, you won't be able to. The ship is tied to my genetic code. And without it, the key won't work."
"What kind of key?" Tyrus perked up.
"It looks like a piece of jewelry the size of an index finger," I said as innocently as possible. "It reacts to the DNA on the skin, then glows green and establishes a mental link between the person and the ship. A useful thing, by the way."
"Mental control?" Tyrus was taken aback. "With the power of the mind?!"
"Why are you so surprised," the bitch, how painful it is to smile when half of my internal organs hurt. I take back my words – the blows from this scoundrel only seem harmless at first glance. "Is there really nothing like this on this planet?"
"No," he confirmed. "Which makes it even stranger that you're helping us."
"And why not?" I asked. "I don't want to die here, so..."
"And your friend still hasn't told us anything," Tyrus narrowed his eyes.
"It's her right," I said as indifferently as possible.
"And why are you helping us?" – and now his brain started to work. Bad.
"And who argues with those who have weapons?" I asked.
"How many ships like yours are there?" – well, damn it, it's not him who's an idiot, but me. He was lulling my vigilance to talk and get what he wanted. In fact, it's the same as me.
"We are scouts," I said. "There are two of us. Maybe you've heard of the Lantians? We're also sometimes called the Ancestors here."
A certain understanding appeared on Tyrus's face.
"Gate builders," he understood. "You were exterminated thousands of years ago by the Wraiths."
"Well, as you can see – not all of us," I pretended to be brave. "Some of our people went through the gates to another galaxy. They waited, recovered. But when things got bad there too, we were sent here to scout a place for a base. We found one of the old outposts, and then started figuring out what was what. Since resources are scarce, we decided to explore the planets. Here we found warehouses, thinking no one was claiming them."
"You were mistaken," Tyrus said. "Ermen was once part of our interstellar confederation. We thought they were destroyed thousands of years ago, but recently we found traces that they, it turns out, survived. We came here so that their legacy would not be in vain."
You damn bastard... That's why the mention of an interstellar state seemed familiar to me! It was the Jenai! Damn cunning bastards – the Jenai! Scum who will stop at nothing to dominate the galaxy. And the creatures already have data from Ermen.
This is why Tyrus didn't buy my words about the refinement of a Jenai-made atomic bomb! If they have documents from that planet, then deciphering a related language was probably not that easy. And… If I'm right, then… That's why the hives aren't sleeping!
"You've already tested your nuclear bomb on the Wraiths," I said.
"Yes," he replied. "Unfortunately, we couldn't blow up the hive, and our prototype fell into enemy hands. And they flew here, destroyed the entire population…"
This is why Jensen's people died, the Jenai didn't detonate the bomb. It seems their agents were discovered and…
Damn it, no, not because of that!
I felt a burning desire to spit in Tyrus's face.
Ermen was destroyed by the hive, which was no longer sleeping! And the Jenai, according to Tyrus's recent words, arrived here after the planet was already destroyed. So how could they have refined the bomb with local knowledge before the hive, which they awakened with that very bomb, arrived here?!
Tyrus is outright lying.
"Sad news," I said.
"You didn't answer right away," Tyrus noted. "What were you thinking about?"
"About how long I was unconscious," a plan was already forming in my head. If only it would work.
"Will they be looking for you?" the Jenai asked warily.
"No, there are only two of us," I shook my head. "A pair for the entire galaxy. But the problem is different. The ship reports that a fleet of Wraiths is approaching the planet. The hive and three cruisers. Half an hour and it will be in orbit."
"Wraiths? What do they need on a dead planet?" Tyrus panicked.
"How should I know?" I asked. "It seems you activated one of their traps – they leave probes to monitor the planets they've destroyed. To know if anyone is following."
"Or maybe you did it! We didn't see any traces of Wraith technology!"
"Even a downed 'arrow' can act as an antenna," I said, remembering what Alvar said about the battle for the planet. They couldn't have not shot down at least something. "Damn, that's why we were flying under camouflage! I remember the wreckage of the 'arrow' on the outskirts of the city!"
"Tell everyone to gather!" Tyrus ordered.
"We won't have time to reach the gate in half an hour!" one of the soldiers panicked. "There are too many trophies!"
The Jenai commander looked at me.
"I think someone will help us."
"Of course!" I nodded.
Of course, damn it, I'll help. But there's a nuance.
"Tycus, the medical supplies are loaded," said the same Varelon, peeking into the cockpit. "The observers say they don't see any 'arrows' or large ships…"
"Well, if their eyesight allows them to discern objects at forty kilometers through the cloudy atmosphere," I turned in my seat, stretching my untied hands, "then you just have super-soldiers. Can you give me the recipe?"
"Launch the ship!" Sora, sitting in the chair behind me, pulled out her pistol again, aiming it at me.
"With pleasure, sunshine," I said. "But there's no key. Someone took it and didn't return it."
"Stop flirting with my daughter," Tyrus ordered, sitting in the navigator's chair. "She's engaged!"
"Lucky fiancé!" I lied, watching the Jenai pull bags filled with all sorts of things from the storage rooms. Come on, guys, work. For now, I'm managing to suppress the activation of the "jumper" with a mental command. But where is Chaya?! I don't see her.
The Jenai girl snorted, and her father pulled a green crystal from the inner pocket of his jacket. Handing it to me, he said, looking me straight in the eye:
"If you help us, my command will ensure that you lack nothing for the rest of your life."
"Now that's what I call a constructive approach," I frankly hated smiling and pretending to be a willing collaborator. I almost threw up a couple of times. But I have to hold on.
"If you betray us, I'll put a fist-sized hole in you," the red-haired doll assured me.
"Thank you, but I prefer the gratitude expressed by your father," I assured him, taking the crystal. "Will the others join us?"
Besides a couple of soldiers in the rear compartment and the father and daughter, there was no one else here.
"You don't have to worry about them," the red-haired bitch assured me.
"The second squad is moving to the gate on foot," Tyrus said. "First, we'll get out of here, and then they'll pass through the gate after us. It would be better for you if you helped – then your friend will survive. I think you know that before the attack, the Wraiths open a gate to the attacked planet?"
"So, we have time in reserve," well, now everything is clear to me. "Closing the hatch, prepare for takeoff."
Chaya is with the second squad. Considering I didn't see how she was taken away, I think it was done deliberately so as not to anger me. And now I know for sure that there is at least one more exit from the tunnels.
And I think Tyrus decided to sacrifice them to distract the Wraiths. He himself, along with his daughter and the loot, would have waited under camouflage and flown back to base with all his belongings. A stealth ship, medical supplies, and honors. Well, and I would have had to tell everything I knew, and then disappear.
The Jenai are very resourceful guys. It seems life underground taught them neatness and logistics. The "jumper's" cargo holds are packed to the brim with medical supplies. The bags in the cockpit are also full of canned food, remnants of medicine. Several generators were placed on the seats, then there were more bags, bags, a couple of boxes. There's hardly any room for these two to sit… Well, that's not a problem.
Attaching the shield to my jacket, I noted that it glowed with a steady greenish light. I took the controls, noting that the protective field was working. Excellent.
"Come on," Tyrus forced out. "Turn on your ship! There's almost no time left."
"Everything that's needed is already on," I assured him, activating the "jumper."
The ship lurched forward at cruising speed. Literally a dozen meters. But then it immediately stopped dead.
For me, the deactivation of the inertial dampeners had no effect whatsoever – they are in the shield. But for the four Jenai…
Tyrus, experiencing an overload of ten "g's," was first pressed into the navigator's seat, then flew forward. Just like his daughter. Except the father slammed into the instrument panel, and Sora – into my shield.
"What are you doing?" Tyrus croaked as I grabbed him from the instrument panel. "Wraiths…"
He didn't finish speaking – I hit him in the head against the cabin body. The unconscious Jenai slid to the floor.
Then I approached Sora, who had managed to shoot me with her pistol. With the lady, it was much simpler – I broke her arm and hit her in the jaw, knocking her out like her father.
"What's happ…?" a couple of Jenai in the cargo hold had just scraped themselves off the bulkhead, but it didn't help them.
From this distance, it's impossible to miss the head. The scanner showed me only three living beings within fifty meters. The father, the daughter, and myself.
Using the seatbelts, I tied both bastards to the seats, then searched them and took everything. Absolutely everything. For added security, I tore the shoulder straps off the bags and tied both of them by the neck to the seats, and their legs together. It would be better to kill them, of course.
But first, I need to interrogate them. And time is running out.
Returning to the jumper's controls, I led it outside.
Of course, there are no Wraiths. I just played on Tyrus's greed. Just as he played on my desire to survive. Except I went into the deal out of desperation, and he – for his own glory. A lot needs to be clarified – and these two will soon sing like birds. But first, I'll save Chaya.
"Hurry up," the boor shoved her in the back.
Chaya stepped over a stone fragment, stretching her stiff shoulders with circular motions as she walked. Everything hurt, of course; the beast-like humans spared her no mercy, trying to get information. But it was her shoulders and wrists that she needed most right now.
Loaded with backpacks of provisions, these people stretched out in two ranks of six people each. Looking around, they kept exchanging phrases about the absence of Wraiths.
The Proculucian could only see with one eye – the other was swollen from beatings. Apparently, these people didn't know that pain could be turned off. Because otherwise, their stunned looks at how calmly she watched her fingernails being pulled out would be indescribable. This especially shocked that red-haired girl who tried to appear as a ruthless soldier.
How many like her had she seen in her long life? Hundreds, if not thousands. True, they lacked the bestial ferocity that was on this girl's face.
Finally, they crossed the square.
"Tyrus," the leader of this detachment brought something resembling an archaic communication device to his face. "We are at the gate. Everything is clear here, answer."
Only silence in response.
"Maybe they've already passed?" someone from the soldiers asked.
"No, he would have warned us," it was clear from the commander that he was worried. He seemed to fear the Wraiths.
Chaya closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. Although her telepathic abilities were in their infancy, she didn't feel any Wraiths nearby. Of course, they could be dormant, but… Then why fear them?
Her head began to ache, as it always does when using unnatural abilities. But who will wait for the Proculucian's brain regions to develop? It's easier and faster to stimulate this with genetic therapy.
"Hey, she's got a nosebleed," someone from the soldiers reported.
Chaya opened her eye and looked at the commander, who was touching her face.
"She won't die," he stated confidently. "She'll make it to her home planet, and then they'll either treat her or get rid of her."
"Poor thing," said the same soldier who mentioned the blood. "If they are indeed Ancients, they could be useful."
"That brat told us everything we were interested in," the commander cut in. "But, yes, I heard they could do anything with their minds. It's okay, if she stays silent, they'll cut her open and all the secrets of their race will be…"
The end of the sentence drowned in an explosion.
A moment before that, Chaya heard the familiar sounds of deactivating camouflage and a launched homing missile. The Proculucian, orienting herself, rushed at that very caring soldier. The explosion and her actions caught her by surprise, so the soldier missed the blow to the chest. Together they fell exactly where she had calculated.
While the soldier was shouting something in pain, pierced by a piece of rebar in the heart area, the girl rolled aside. Glancing at him, she shuddered: instead of falling and losing consciousness from the glancing blow to the temple and back of the head, he seemed to have behaved differently than Chaya predicted. And he fell on the rebar near where she was supposed to disarm him.
A couple of soldiers who rushed at her were cut down by automatic fire that struck from the direction of the nearest debris to the gate.
But she was little interested in that.
The piece of sharpened metal she noticed was sharp enough to cut through the semblance of shackles holding her. Peeking out from behind a pile of debris, she saw that the shuttle had landed across the passage to the gate, and its ramp had been lowered.
From there, ignoring the fire directed at him, Mikhail emerged. True, he first kicked a couple of corpses out of the ship. In his hands, a short automatic rifle, like the ones her escorts had, was rumbling.
And almost without missing, he killed these men. Under a hail of bullets, he simply approached their positions and killed them. And those who fled were torn apart by bursts of fire from cover.
Chaya could have used her mental abilities to recognize unexpected allies, but she felt weak. Mental tricks didn't come easily to her, like to all younger races. Something else will help her now.
"H-h-help," the caring soldier, dying from massive blood loss, gasped at her, breathing heavily. One look was enough for Chaya to understand – broken ribs, punctured liver, spleen, torn intestines, left lung punctured in two places. Even without being a medical specialist, Chaya knew that this guy had very little time left to live.
But it would be a painful death.
"Of course," she said quietly, taking the man by the chin. Looking him in the eyes, the Proculucian jerked her head to the side. A crunch of broken cervical vertebrae was heard.
Taking the weapon from the dead man, she fired almost without aiming at the Jenai who ran up to her. The next one was met with death from a bullet to the back of the head.
Mikhail, throwing aside the discharged weapon, approached Chaya.
"Will you hold out until Atlantis?" he asked.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Sar assured him. "And you…?"
"You don't have to worry about the Jenai anymore," Mikhail assured her, picking her up. Surprised by his action, since she could have walked herself, the girl was even more surprised when she saw Teyla and Aivar near the jumper's hatch. Both humans looked at her with concern, after which Jensen said:
"We couldn't get into Atlantis. We thought you were having problems here. We arrived about ten minutes ago. I saw their scouts, and we decided to hide."
"And I spotted them at the gate and was about to hit them with a projectile," Mikhail sat her on the edge of a seat in the cargo hold, which was packed to the brim with trophies. Their two friends entered the now cramped cargo hold of the "jumper," and the rear hatch slammed shut. "Good thing I decided to fly closer."
"Well, yes, it would have been awkward," Jensen replied grimly, kicking the corpses of the people near the shuttle. "They don't look like marauders…"
"If you want to chat, a couple are waiting for you in the cabin," Mikhail said, arranging the bags in the aisle a bit to make room for Teyla. "Keep an eye on her."
The Athosian, sitting opposite Chaya, took her hand. Mikhail and Jensen went to the cabin.
"Everything will be fine," Teyla promised, looking her in the eyes. "The main thing is, don't pass out."
Chaya looked at the Athosian with bewilderment but remained silent. Did she also not know that pain could be turned off by force of will? Although, judging by her stories about Athosian meditations, they should have at least guessed…
"And I'm not going to," the Proculucian assured him, resting her head against the shuttle's metal. "I'm tougher than I look."
However, she didn't witness the moment of arrival on Atlantis.