Well...
I had two scanners, seventy-five crystal "blanks," five bundles of something between heat-shrink tubing and glue sticks for my favorite "DIY" pistol, an ancient crimper that functioned more like a crimping tool, wire cutters, a soldering iron, and a whole sea of spools of something resembling fiber optics used as standard wiring, as well as a ruby crystal, a sapphire crystal, an emerald crystal, a box of diamond crystals, and a dozen crystals resembling clouded amber. Not that all of this was absolutely necessary for repairing the transporter, but if I've started repairing Ancient technology, I need to approach the task seriously.
Curiously, most of the Ancients' wiring is made of a material resembling fiber optics. Of different cross-sections and different energy conductivity. Standard wiring, like the "two hundred and twenty volt" equivalent, consisted of thin, milky-white optical fibers about a millimeter thick. Connected to power at only one end, they reminded me somewhat of a Soviet "dandelion" lamp with the main light in a box and tiny dot-lights at the end.
Just like on Earth, the Ancients use different wiring for different tasks. The only difference is that they differ in cross-sectional thickness and transparency. The higher the voltage intended to be transmitted through the wires, the greater the thickness of the wire and the degree of its transparency, and therefore the purity of the material from which it was created.
That's what Chaya explained to me. In reality, I could only distinguish the wires from each other by their thickness. Both thin transparent and thick transparent ones. Although, wait, this one, it seems, is a bit cloudy, like frosted glass... Ah, no, it's not frosted, it's just lying on a couple of crystals.
The longer I worked with the wiring, like a robot, using an ancient crimper to cut out damaged sections of wiring, the more I felt like that guy who installs home internet after a fire. Here, cut off the melted ends, then pick the right spool of wire, cut it with the crimper, insert a special fiber optic bundle into the last receiver socket, heat it, connect the stripped end of the old wire and the new one in the device, solder them with a piece of a third one... And so on, about forty times. Then move on to the next panel. Oh, here only about a hundred wires burned out and a dozen crystals.
And the more I understood what hellish work Chaya did. The Ancients' wires did not use insulation – when a voltage greater than they could transmit appeared in the circuit, one of two things happened. Either the crystal closest to the point of overvoltage burned out, becoming black inside, like my thoughts. Or, emitting a fountain of sparks, the wire dried out and burned through. In the third niche with damaged wiring, I came to the conclusion that this sometimes led to the burnout of an entire section of crystals and wires.
Insulation? No, they've never heard of it. Color coding? Pff-f-f-f, for God's sake, what the hell! I think if the Ancients had assembled a bomb, and sent someone like John McClane to defuse it, he would have freaked out. Just hearing over the radio: "John, John, cut the red wire!" and realizing there are no red ones here... Unpleasant.
By the way, John would have liked the Ancients' architecture. The ventilation ducts are wide, comfortable, and sturdy. You can crawl through them without fear of being shot by "evil Russians."
Well, of course, if they don't have an Ancient pulse pistol, of course. If McClane's enemies had such a weapon, he wouldn't have survived even half of the first part of his adventures.
Karma, it's a bitch.
On the fifth panel, I ran out of the necessary crystals. There were two more panels ahead, so, without further ado, with the scanner's hints, I cannibalized everything necessary from the nearest lighting panel. I'm starting to understand why the Ancients installed five to ten of them, and in different designs, per square meter of corridor. It's an excellent source of spare parts for more important systems and mechanisms!
I was shocked twice. Sadly, I had to redo one of the sections and say goodbye to the personal shield protection. But I remembered that electricians do get paid extra if they work under voltage. Besides, it's a good thing. As soon as the hair on your body stands on end, you remember such a useful mechanism as a relay or a fuse.
It turns out, it's even on the same deck as you. Right here, in the corridor. Even on the decorative cover, it's written for idiots: "Distribution board." Well, not exactly written like that – there are a few symbols that look like printed letters that have been chewed up and abused Arabic numerals that have eaten mushrooms. Correct. Of course, a warning and an explanation in the language of the Ancients.
"You're my smart girl," I almost cried, connecting to the panel with the scanner. It turns out that the 'Aurora' is such a caring lady that she herself turned on the circuit breakers that had tripped ten thousand years ago due to a short circuit. How good it is that I was repairing not from the source of the short circuit to the transporter cabin, but vice versa. Otherwise, I would have been shaken earlier. And, most likely, shaken to the point of cremation.
"Misha, I've gone through the decks," Kirik informed me. Hmm, he's fast. Ah-ah-ah, it's just that I've been here for three hours! "There are empty chambers. I didn't find anyone in the pods except people."
"Good news," I reported, cutting out a bunch of wiring that powered the lights on the side opposite the transporter. Well, not opposite... Half the lights in the corridor went out. So... It seems I have problems understanding electrical diagrams... Ah, no, it's not me – the fuse crystal burned out. In that niche that I didn't open.
"Are you finished already?"
"Sort of," I double-checked that no power was supplied to the transporter circuits I was working on.
"A lot of time has passed!"
"Tell me something I don't know," I advised him.
It's interesting... I've become more phlegmatic during the process of repairing the transporter cabin. I don't even feel like swearing as much as usual.
I can practically feel my "poker face" while doing important work. I wonder if the Ancients had problems with facial expressions and humor precisely because they were often zapped?
"I'm coming to you," Kirik said, after thinking.
Interesting... I wonder how he'll do it if he doesn't know the ship's layout.
As it turned out, I suspected the former fugitive of topographic cretinism in vain. He found me in about thirty minutes.
"You still haven't done this thing?" he asked, seeing me rearrange the crystals in the control panel. "A lot of time has passed. Our people..."
At the very moment the crystals snapped into place and lit up, along with the entire repaired circuit, and the transporter cabin's lighting and displacement display illuminated, I looked at my comrade-in-arms. It seemed something on my face displeased him, as Kirik, frowning, muttered:
"Sorry. I'm worried about our people."
Well, yes. Who else would worry about us.
"Does it work?" he pointed to the open doors of the transporter chamber, on the wall of which two outlines of Ancient battleships had appeared. One, the one in the center, is, therefore, the "Aurora." And the second, located close to its nonexistent bow, is the "Hippaphoralkus." In the center of each of them, a transporter dot glowed red. Just press the one on my more intact ship, and voilà, you'll be where you need to be.
"At least it's glowing," I sighed, looking around. "Whether it works as it should or not, we'll check now."
Taking a few damaged crystals, I put them in an empty box and placed it on the floor of the teleportation chamber. After waiting a second, I poked the dot on board the "Hippaphoralkus." I then shot out of the chamber like a bullet as its doors closed.
Of course, I believe in my skills as an electrical engineer.
But I don't want to be on the list of inventors who died testing their own creations.
The doors closed, and a snow-white radiance flashed behind the small colored glass of the stained-glass windows. Well, at least it glows well...
The cabin doors slid open. The box of crystals was gone. However, the descending "Alash" was present, and Teyla, exhaling with relief at the sight of us.
"We were starting to worry," she said, handing her weapon to a delighted Kirik.
"Us too," declared the smiling former fugitive, openly but restrainedly admiring the Athosian. Ah, boy, you don't know she has a boyfriend among her own kind, do you? Although... Who even knows about that, besides me? And even then, if it weren't for the notorious after-knowledge...
Shedding the straps from her shoulders, she placed a massive black backpack on the floor next to the wall.
"There's food, water, crystals, spare parts, ammunition. Alvar said to take as much as you can carry. We didn't know if there was an enemy on board that wasn't initially visible, so..."
Overcautious. That's good.
"Are there any problems on the ship?" I asked.
"It's getting cold," Emagan admitted. "And dark. Alvar ordered us to gather in the teleportation bay, as that's our most likely salvation. We're on duty one by one every half hour in hope..."
She smiled modestly.
"I see you managed it after all, and we're not threatened by death from hypothermia," she added.
Behind her, the teleportation chamber doors closed, a light flashed, and two more Athosians emerged. Loaded like pack animals, they dropped their weapons with obvious relief at the sight of us. And began to take off their backpacks.
"Alvar Jensen sent us to scout and assist you, Teyla," said one of Emagan's kin. His face seemed familiar... It seems this guy is her beloved. In known events, he will become the father of her child. Canon, I think, is his name. "Mikhail, you must arrive on the Ancestors' ship. And the sooner, the better. Teyla risked a lot by volunteering to rescue you."
Oh, really.
I see Emagan looks away. Kirik also sensed some deception in her words. But, I must admit – the former fugitive, like me, understood that it was not worth making a scene. To question Teyla about the reasons she lied, saying she was sent here.
It seems the guy is hot-headed and slightly jealous.
Well, it happens. But, as the Jedi say, jealousy leads to the Dark Side. I should deal with this right away.
Here and now.
"Kanaan," the guy introduced himself, a little more sharply than he should have. It seems my question: "Who the hell are you?" didn't please him much.
"So, Kanaan," I addressed the Athosian. "Want some advice?"
The man, who kept casting jealous glances at Teyla, looked at me with displeasure. Jealous, perhaps? Oh... He's jealous of her *to me*!
Well, that's all we needed!
"You need to return to the ship urgently!" he repeated, wincing.
"Let's step aside," I said, smiling friendly, putting my arm around the shoulders of the guy who was stunned by the audacity and, against his will, led him away from the others. So that our backs were to the rest. Teyla and the second Athosian exchanged glances, clearly not understanding what was happening. But Kirik figured it out immediately. "So, the promised advice..."
Without a swing, I punched him in the solar plexus.
Kanaan gasped, choked, and doubled over. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, I forced the man to stand more or less upright.
Kanaan, an Athosian.
"I don't know what you've imagined for yourself," I said, almost in a whisper. "But learn a few simple truths. First – it's not for you to speak to me in that tone. And it's not for you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do. Who are you in life?"
"I... don't understand..." he exhaled.
"What do you do in your free time from space flights, warrior?" I clarified.
"Beer... war..." he tried to regain his breath with all his might.
"And I thought it was umeshu," I sighed, patting Kanaan on the back. "So, brewer. Your opinion is of interest to me only when I'm choosing between light or dark. Otherwise – shut your mouth. Understood?"
"Y-yes," the man said hoarsely.
"That's great," I assured him. "Now, the second wisdom. I don't know what you've imagined about me and Teyla, but from my side, I can assure you: I have no feelings for her. And no intentions. She is my..." I paused. Indeed, what is she to me? "Ally. I don't mix work and personal life. You don't engage in impropriety with a barrel of beer, do you?"
The Athosian looked at me with wild eyes.
"I hope not," I said, making a note for the future: beer, like Athosian wine, should not be drunk anymore. "Did you understand the wisdom of the Ancients that I've just told you?"
"Y-yes," he still seems unable to catch his breath.
"That's wonderful," I patted him on the back. "Any questions?"
"No," he shook his head.
"Man," I praised him. "If you decide to stop acting like a jealous person, just ask yourself: if you have to look around, trying to figure out if your woman intends to leave you for someone else, you should think if you need such a woman. Do you understand?"
"I-I think so," he said.
This guy is really weak. The blow was trivial, and he still can't recover. It seems this "alpha" is, at best, an "omega."
"That's good," I patted him on the back again. "And now let's return to our comrades. I'll return to the ship. Kirik is in charge. And don't you dare..." I wanted to say "God," but then realized that in local realities, this expression wouldn't have the necessary force, "Ancestors, you decide to do something while I'm gone. Believe me, you won't like my anger. Is that clear?"
"Yes," well, it seems he's recovered. "I apologize."
"For what?" I asked, surprised.
Kanaan straightened up and looked me in the eye. Hmm... I respect that.
"Teyla is my solace," he said quietly, looking towards the impatiently watching Athosian leader. "When the Wraiths collected my wife and son... Shared grief united us... But when you came to our world... I thought she and you... She has lived among you for so long, rarely appears on New Athos, doesn't listen to our advice anymore, listens to you... I thought that you..."
"Did Teyla lose someone during the last Wraith gathering on Athos?" I asked.
"Earlier," Kanaan said, embarrassed. "Her father and mother were collected by the Wraiths when she was young... These losses brought us closer after the loss of my family..."
"Did she say that?" I inquired.
"No," Kanaan said, unexpectedly embarrassed. Yes, his name is different, but... I can call this adult teenager whatever I want in my mind. "But I understood from her words and actions..."
I wanted to swear.
"Love and Secrets of the Pegasus Galaxy." "Athosian Santa Barbara." "Wild Angel-Teyla"... In a word – a soap opera.
One didn't realize that it was necessary to explain everything precisely to her countrymen, the second, instead of asking directly, decided to imagine things for himself...
Oh, Go-o-o-o-d...
"Exhale," I clapped him on the shoulder. I really wanted to advise the guy not to invest his soul in this relationship. I might be wrong about the Athosian, but... This is a classic! A lady found a grieving widower for informal relations. And his psyche played on the fact that he was supposedly something more to her than just a friend for hayloft exercises. "I repeat – there is nothing between me and Teyla. And," seeing his eyes widen, "there won't be. She is only my comrade. Nothing more. You can rest assured."
"Thank you," the man (though, what kind of man is he? He's thirty at most. And has the brains of a twenty-year-old) extended his hand to me. "It seems... Is this how two men show trust?"
"This is just the first step," I replied to the offered handshake, squeezing the brewer's hand. "As for whether I can turn my back on you in the bathhouse, only time will tell."
"Finally."
These were Alvar's first words when the transporter cabin doors opened on board the "Hippaphoralkus," letting me out.
"I've already started preparing an assault squad," the Ermen admitted.
Judging by how the five Athosians, standing next to the cabin in the corridor, exhaled belligerently and with relief. They, apparently, constituted this very assault squad.
"Disband the resettlement of peoples," I said, looking around. "Where is Koschei?"
Steam escaped my mouth. And the temperature on board wasn't exactly comfortable. At least Teyla hadn't distorted the real circumstances here.
"In the chamber," Jensen replied. "I planned to send him in the last group. Along with the second prisoner..."
"Haven't they frozen to death yet?" I asked.
"The guards say no," Jensen patted the radio attached to his suit. "Did it work?"
He asked the last question as we headed towards the bridge. A dim light flickered on in the corridor – the starship was reacting to the return of a carrier of the Ancient gene. And I'm glad about that. Honestly, I thought the "Hippaphoralkus" had broken down, not gone into "hibernation mode." I really wouldn't want to repair systems I know nothing about in open space.
"Power is supplied, the teleportation chamber is working," I replied, turning at the right spot. Hmm, I've passed here twice at most. And, as it turned out, I'm not getting lost. That wasn't the case before. "Kirik checked – the crew is still in stasis, but some are outside the sealed compartments of the ship. We'll deal with them last."
"It smells like serious work in open space," Jensen noted. "Judging by what was visible from the portholes, depressurization can only occur in case of breaches. I can't imagine where we'll get enough metal to weld everything."
"At the moment, this is not a primary concern," I replied. "Our plans are as follows. There are empty stasis pods on board. I'll get into one of them, contact the crew. Explain to them what's happening outside their virtual world. And then, we'll pull them out one by one and bring them back to life."
"Are you sure you can manage before the 'Hippaphoralkus' goes back into energy-saving mode, or whatever it's called when it shut down?" Jensen asked. I explained to him during our journey that the crew of the "Aurora" is in a virtual reality, connecting their consciousnesses while their bodies are in stasis. In this sortie, he is effectively my deputy, so he should know the necessary information, at least in general terms.
"I don't think talking to the 'Aurora' crew will take several hours," I said.
In reality, how the communication with the frozen Ancients will go, it's impossible to predict precisely. All my plans were based on the fact that I would have the opportunity to mentally control my entry and exit from the stasis pod. If the Ancients want to join me – great, then we'll work according to the plan. We'll thaw them out, gradually bring them back to life.
The data obtained when feeding Koschei to the Jenai is very interesting. The Wraith is quite strong and has a lot of life force, which he could use to resurrect the crew of the "Aurora."
Another thing is that it won't be possible to revive absolutely everyone. I'm sure of that. Even though I couldn't come up with a plan for Koschei to use reverse feeding to restore life, I suspect he was right when he said that resurrecting Lantians would require more strength than for ordinary people.
But, even if so, I think he'll be able to bring at least a few Ancients back to life. And here it's worth taking Chaya's advice – to awaken those who can truly be useful "tomorrow." Captain, first mate, engineers, technicians... The last two categories are needed like air. The first two – for controlling the battleships.
Until I find a way to become "smarter," I'll have to rely on external help. No one disputes this fact, of course...
At the moment, the Wraith only has the red-haired Jenai for "snacking." And the reserve of strength he had before. I really hope that he can "revive" at least five to ten Ancients.
Even such a small increase in personnel will help us, and very, very much.
Of course, there are still various issues regarding interpersonal conflicts, the intervention of the Ascended, or the stubbornness of the "Aurora" crew members.
But here the second postulate applies: if they turn out to be complete assholes, no one will save them. I don't think, of course, that all crew members will be pleased to remain in stasis pods and die, but one should never underestimate Ancient stubbornness for no reason.
After all, over ten thousand years, frozen guys who had the ability to exit stasis at their own will, well, they just couldn't do it. It's logical – you wait and wait and wait, and you're not saved. You get out of the pod, check if you're dying. If you have strength, you get to the bridge, check if there are any stargates nearby and what can be done, and then...
And then, preferably, don't think you're the smartest. The ship's life support was turned off. And it can only be turned on from the backup bridge. From there to the nearest stasis pod – half a kilometer in a straight line. Not to mention that you need to open a dozen doors, half of which won't budge without a crowbar and brute force. No energy, no air, no heat, no slightest understanding – is there a vacuum behind this particular bulkhead, or will it be alright.
The Ancients are physically, mentally, and intellectually superior to ordinary humans. But they also need to breathe. And flying out into a vacuum when you open the wrong door is not pleasant.
In general, whether the "Aurora" crew sat idly by or tried to save themselves, it's useless to guess. Only communication with the Ancients can shed light on what happened.
The bridge of the "Hippaphoralkus" was deserted. The panels and monitors were already glowing by the time I crossed the threshold.
The command chair greeted me with considerable coolness, but I tried not to pay attention to it. Closing my eyes, I gave the starship a mental command...
"You've activated the inertial dampeners," Alvar noted. "Power is being supplied to the engines and shields..."
"Correct," I said, mentally commanding the ship to "rise higher." The smart machine understood me only on the third try when I explained that I wasn't going to ram the "Aurora." But I intend to get out of its course and position myself "higher" to avoid an emergency situation if something happens.
It took about half an hour to take up position next to the damaged ship. I almost rammed the battered starship twice to get closer to it. After all, the teleportation chamber has its own range. If we fly too far away, we won't be able to move quickly between starships.
"The Wraith piloted better," Alvar blurted out. Not with a complaint, not with a mockery.
He just stated a fact.
"I thought you were the one who crashed the starships," I said.
"When I tried, we almost exposed our side," Alvar admitted. "So, although I didn't want to, I asked him for help."
After braking with the maneuvering thrusters, the "Hippaphoralkus" took up a position ten kilometers from the "Aurora," to its starboard side. Imagine that, we even managed to keep the ships relatively in the same plane. Turning off the engines, I made sure the starship wasn't moving even by inertia.
After that, turning in my chair, I looked at Alvar. A guess popped into my head:
"The systems started shutting down after the Wraith took control?"
Jensen, after thinking, nodded in agreement.
"We barely made it. First, the hyperdrive shut down, then subspace communication," the Ermen pointed to the panels in the cockpit, listing them in the order they went dark when Koschei was on the bridge. "Then the main engines. The Wraith used maneuvering thrusters and inertia to correct the flight and crash the ships. Somehow he managed to redirect energy from the shields to the main engines to slow down the 'Aurora.' After that, auxiliary systems began to shut down, including the communication we were using, life support, shields. The bulkheads were locked – we had to force them open manually..."
I think I'm starting to understand.
Either everything that happened is a big coincidence, or the starship has a "Wraith protection" installed. If you think about it, it's quite logical: he can be on board, there are no problems with that. Especially when he's unconscious and in a cell. But if he got to the controls...
Hyperdrive – so he couldn't fly to his own.
Subspace communication – so he couldn't call for help.
Main engines – so he wouldn't even reach the nearest gate at sublight speeds.
The shields held to prevent boarding. The Wraith redirected energy from them to the sublight engines, and the auxiliary systems also failed. Because they sensed that Koschei wouldn't give up so easily. The shields probably shut down because the generators failed. The ship understood that the conditional enemy could redirect energy from one system to another. And, therefore, could also supply power to the hyperdrive, long-range communication, and so on. It's logical to shut down the power supply to the entire starship.
Short-range communication, life support, compartment locking – the "Hippaphoralkus" tried with all its might to make life difficult for the Wraith who took command of it. It's likely that it would have also purged the compartments, but it sensed that there were living people on board. It probably hoped that humans could stop the bastard.
Of course, it would have been ideal if it had restarted the systems after Koschei was returned to the cell. But I suspect that the computer either decided that the Wraith had escaped the cell and could repeat it, or that he had taken control of the crew.
Or, which is also logical, only a human with the Ancient gene can restart the ship.
I don't want to speak ill, but... Something tells me that this magnificent program was written by a mischievous but very far-sighted former Ascended. Because in the events I know, nothing like this happened at all.
There were several cases when Wraiths appeared on Ancient ships and in cities, even connected to systems, but Ancient equipment did not behave like this... either this function was not in the series, or it was disabled.
I bet the first option is correct.
It's also strange that we are not sending a distress signal... Checking the subspace transmitter, I made sure we weren't. We are not sending one. Not anymore.
"Misha, is everything okay?" Alvar asked me when I activated the ship's long-range sensors. Nothing... Thank G-
At the very edge of the sensor range, four red marks appeared: one large and three small. The onboard computer helpfully showed a red line connecting us and the Wraith ships. And also a small inscription in the Ancient language...
"Is this what I think it is?" Jensen asked quietly.
"If you're thinking about a Hive Ship and three Wraith cruisers heading our way, then yes," I said, my voice suddenly hoarse.