Despite the massive and thick door leading to the room with his cell opening almost soundlessly to the human ear, Koschei still heard it. He sat with closed eyes in the middle of his cell, meditating and trying to break through the mental block surrounding him. So far without success. But that was no reason to give up.
In the city's brig, there was nothing to sense the change of day and night. Counting seconds would be absolutely foolish and a useless waste of resources. So Koschei fell into a state close to hibernation to slow metabolic processes and conserve as much energy as possible. Though he had lost track of time spent in the cell, he clearly understood—the energy accumulated from thousands of absorbed human animals and Wraith brethren would come in handy when he was ready to escape.
Perhaps that day had come today.
Feeling a barely noticeable breath of wind and a faint click of the lock, he flung open his eyes.
Just in time to see the people entering the cell room. Two men, only one of whom was familiar.
"Ha, pale-face!" Mikhail demonstrated some gesture that Koschei didn't understand. At the same time, he did two things at once.
First—he pressed the other man against the cell bars, who tried to break free from Mikhail's grip. This man was clearly not dressed in the same uniform as Mikhail and the Wraith-seen members of his team.
Of middle human age, dressed in worn gray-brown uniform, with an embittered face but thoroughly disoriented (even before the blow to the horizontal bars), this second man clearly didn't look healthy.
But he wasn't Lantean—his behavior, facial expressions, even body constitution bore no resemblance to a representative of one of the Ancient peoples. Looks like some native, underdeveloped. Possibly even a representative of the enemies promised by Mikhail, which he had.
"Don't twitch," Mikhail kicked under the kneecaps, forcing his companion to his knees. Holding him by the hair with his fingers, the Lantean performed the second action that attracted the Wraith's attention.
He unlocked the entrance part of the grate.
Outwardly indistinguishable from part of the wall, it shimmered with the greenish glow of a deactivated energy field as it slid aside, letting both men inside.
"Wraith!" the second man exclaimed as if only now seeing the prisoner. He tried to slow his forward movement, began pushing with his legs, striking Mikhail's body and arm. But the enveloping personal protective field reduced all attempts to harm Mikhail to zero.
Koschei mentally thanked the unknown for demonstrating the protection of the man who captured the commander. Honestly, he himself planned to attack Mikhail or any other member of his team as soon as they came. But now he understood that wouldn't be the best option.
"My people will avenge!" the man declared at the moment when Mikhail was already tired of fussing with him. The Lantean threw the man under the Wraith's feet with one motion. Koschei, despite the proximity of the victim, didn't rush to feed. He hadn't forgotten Mikhail's threat of biological weapons. And assumed that during his captivity, a prototype might have been developed.
Mikhail had already demonstrated (so far in words) that he could cross the moral line preventing Lanteans from fighting to the last and at any cost. Such a person could unilaterally change the terms of their agreement without qualms and decide that cooperation with the Wraith brings no benefit. Especially since he surely continued scanning the Wraith, even demonstrating the dismantling of the equipment. And could have gotten a more compliant representative of his race.
"Commander Cowan won't leave this alone!" the man assured, cowering in the corner of the cell. "As soon as he learns, he'll take revenge! You'll all die! I give my word you'll answer for everything you did!"
Koschei, intrigued by what he heard, turned his head toward the imperturbably standing Mikhail in the passage.
"What is this?" the Wraith asked, pointing to the pathetic human.
"An advance," the Lantean explained. "You remember the agreement: I feed you, you work. Time to improve health and get to work."
"You're even cooperating with Wraith⁈" the man screamed. "The people of Pegasus won't forgive such treachery!"
"And why should I believe the food isn't poisoned?" Koschei asked. He looked at the offered game and grimaced in disgust. How pathetic and weak this human is?
"Why would I poison my assistant now?" Mikhail wondered. "I don't recall you even starting what we agreed on."
"And you're not rushing to deliver me frozen Lanteans," the Wraith noted.
"Everything in its time," Mikhail shrugged.
"...Cooperation with Wraith is the gravest sin for all people in the galaxy and... A-A-A-A-A-A!!!"
At the end of his angry tirade, the future food screeched in high tones. Not of his own will, of course. Simply his speeches began to irritate Koschei. And with one blow, he broke the man's leg.
"He wouldn't have run from you even with healthy limbs," Mikhail noted, ignoring the man's hysterical screams in the worn uniform.
"His speeches annoyed me," Koschei explained. "I hope I've sufficiently demonstrated that I lack patience for irritating promises?"
"Quite," Mikhail said. "So, how much longer?"
"As long as needed," Koschei snapped, casting a carnivorous glance at the wounded man. Seeing the Wraith anticipating his meal, he stopped screaming. And only whimpered, curled into a ball in the corner of the cell. "I savor his fear and panic, enjoy it."
"My mom taught me not to play with food," Mikhail said. "Apparently, yours had a different opinion on table manners."
Ignoring the human's joke (and quite refined one), Koschei approached his food, raising his right hand to latch onto his chest. The man shrank so much it was impossible to do so simply. And without mental powers, the Wraith couldn't suppress his will to resist.
But he was experienced enough in feeding matters to not understand what would happen now. Koschei leaned over the victim, performing maximally terrifying actions of imminent death. That was quite enough for the food to react.
The man thrust his right hand forward, clenched into a fist. He hoped to hit the Wraith straight in the jaw. He couldn't win that way anyway; it only delayed the inevitable. But at the same time, people who amounted to something tried to fight to the end.
Their attempts were laughable, but served as excellent entertainment.
Koschei caught the man's fist with his left hand, squeezed so that the finger bones crunched. The prisoner screamed in pain as the Wraith twisted his limb at the shoulder joint, forcing the body to arch to minimize pain. The man's chest opened against his will.
And the pale-green hand with the feeding sucker, bony growths on the fingers, and long nails dug into the skinny man's chest.
The prisoner screamed the moment the sucker dug into his chest. His cry of pain shifted tone somewhat when the life-giving enzyme flooded into the body, not allowing him to die too quickly.
Koschei's vertical pupils dilated as he saw the man's eyes rolling back from the euphoria overwhelming him. He was now in an altered state of consciousness, unable to resist the Wraith's biochemistry.
And in the next moment, Koschei pulled into himself everything the man had given. And everything that now belonged to him.
He felt his body filling with the man's strength and life flowing through the Wraith's organism. The already energy-saturated body from the number of people and Wraith become food barely noticed the energy of this puny human animal streaming through it.
The Wraith had barely gotten a taste when he felt the life-giving stream from the man to him depleting. Looking at the victim, he saw only a shriveled body. Head crowned with gray hair; flabby, dried skin covering a practically muscle-less skeleton.
His fingers could easily rip the sternum from these remains and use it as a weapon. But that wouldn't help—Mikhail remained under his personal energy shield's protection.
Shaking his hand, Koschei tossed the body aside, straightened up, and hissed at Mikhail.
"Satisfied with what you saw?"
The fact that the Lantean hadn't gone anywhere only showed what he suspected. Mikhail wanted to see the feeding process with his own eyes.
"Quite," he replied laconically, tossing into the cell something resembling two metal bracelets linked by a chain. One glance was enough for Koschei to understand—the metal used in these handcuffs was similar to that in the shell of small Lantean ships.
Such chains couldn't be broken by physical force alone.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Put them on your wrists," Mikhail ordered. "Time for a walk, my pale-faced friend. Work awaits you."
"Finally reviving Lanteans?" Koschei asked, snapping the locks and voluntarily shackling his hands with the chains. Another chain with bracelets fell to the floor. It differed little from the previous one.
"Now fasten on your legs, just above the ankles," Mikhail ordered.
Koschei obeyed. Now he was shackled hands and feet, but these were two different chains. If desired, it didn't hinder using hands or feet for attack at all.
"What else do I need to shackle?" Koschei asked irritably, seeing Mikhail, approaching him, pull out another pair of handcuffs.
"I'll do this one myself," the Lantean smirked.
A couple of motions, two clicks, and the third handcuffs linked the chains of the previous two. At the same time, Mikhail checked the tightness of the handcuffs on hands and feet. Not without a smile, he clicked the hand manacles two more notches tighter, not allowing hands to be pulled out of the shackles now.
"Have they told you the parable about the clever nut and bolt with special threading?" the Lantean asked, nodding toward the exit.
"No," the Wraith grumbled irritably. "But I'm sure you'll enlighten me on this folklore now..."
"You're a Jedi too!" Mikhail admired. "Koschei, you have so many hidden talents! You understand Lantean tech, revive the dead, turn the living into dead, even see the future! I'm impressed. But our journey will be short, so you'll hear the nut and bolt tale another time. But instead, I'll demonstrate how to intrigue a Wraith."
"And how?" Koschei became interested as they left the brig room.
"Tomorrow," Mikhail promised.
*
Despite the abundance of work that needed to be done, a short rest for the entire repair team was simply necessary.
Chaya understood this better than anyone. Honestly, over the past two weeks devoted to repairing the battleship, she felt the influence of fatigue more than others. But at least she managed to put the ship's marching engines in order.
Consequently, even in this state, the Hippaforalkus can lift off the surface and exit into space. But the fact that in space we'd have to spend huge amounts of time and effort eliminating damage to the ship's hull, replacing damaged external conduit systems, and so on, was the reason the starship still rested in the hangar.
"You said Wraith don't need windows on their ships," Kirik said unexpectedly. The former Runner sat in the corner of the bridge and lazily poked a spoon in a plate of porridge.
"That's true," Chaya confirmed.
"Then why did the Ancients make bridges with such a huge panoramic viewport?" the man asked, pointing to the front part of the compartment they were in.
The Hippaforalkus bridge.
"Agreed," Yensen, consuming food in another part of the bridge, joined the question.
Chaya glanced at Norina Pero, whom she also involved in work on the battleship. Teyla and a dozen of the most quick-witted Athosians also tore themselves from food and looked at her. As did a couple of Taranian scientists. The smartest and most competent in handling Ancient technology. Chaya conducted some interview with the Taranian scientific group. And nearly ninety percent of them she kicked out of the outpost, forbidding them to appear closer than the established zone.
Better they do farming than prove to her that connecting positively and negatively charged ends of power busbars is perfectly safe.
Everyone so interested? Most likely yes.
For all without exception people she selected for the team, the Ancients were an object of admiration. To be honest, Sar was surprised at how accurately and even with light religious awe the Athosians approached the task assigned to them. And they just opened panels and replaced crystals, carried deformed and burned parts to workshops where they were melted into more useful property.
However, before she clarified, a hoarse chuckle sounded behind her. The girl sitting in the ship commander's chair spun and fixed her gaze on...
"Wraith!" tossing aside the cup with porridge remnants, Kirik was already on his feet, pointing a pistol forward. Yensen, Teyla, and the Athosians did similarly. Though Chaya was confident she fixed the outpost systems and it was fully airtight, all extra entrances and exits blocked, better to insure.
The pale-green intelligent with long hair braided into thick dreads looked at the humans contemptuously. Surely he thought it would be worth attacking them when no one noticed he entered through the open bridge doors.
But instead, with complete indifference to what was happening, he unclenched his hands, and two massive black bags fell to the floor. The characteristic sound of touching glass was heard.
Following them, a third bag fell to the floor. The sound repeated. But this time, it became clear something inside broke.
"When I open it, I'll knock out as many teeth as crystals you broke," the entering Mikhail promised behind him. The human carried two bags similar to those already seen. But set them on the floor carefully. "So, boys and girls, calm down, exhale, and lower your weapons. Koschei is not here to kill you."
"Sure?" the Wraith asked, not taking his eyes off Chaya.
The Proculian, frozen, couldn't tear her eyes from the commander, clenching her fingers into fists so that the knuckles turned white.
"Koschei, have you believed yourself or what?" Mikhail asked, approaching the Wraith. "That way you definitely won't earn trust from my side."
"Don't trust a Wraith," Teyla said. At her signal, the Athosians lowered their weapons. But suspicious gazes didn't leave the Wraith. "Mikhail, why is he here?"
"For the same reason I left him alive," the young man explained. "He'll help us solve problems."
"And how?" Yensen asked.
"At least he's in chains," Kirik said.
Chaya, blinking, looked closer. Indeed, the Wraith had metal bracelets on hands and feet, linked by a simple system of strong chains.
"He understands Ancient tech," Mikhail explained. "On Lantea-2, he tried to use an activated Jumper. So he knows something about it."
"About how to drink life from people," Teyla said. "Wraith don't use Ancient technology."
"Because you can't understand it due to your limitations, human female," the one Mikhail called Koschei snorted. "I'm almost eleven thousand years old. I drank life from Ancients, I studied their ships and technology. And I, unlike your frightened Ancient, can give an answer about why we have command compartments inside the ship. And why we don't need viewports."
"Well, enlighten us," Mikhail asked, carrying the Wraith's bags aside and beginning to inspect their contents. "Or at least five teeth in your jaws are already in question."
"Not my fault you brought defective crystals," the Wraith said irritably. "Ancient crystals have high density and can't be broken by falling from such height."
"Don't get distracted," Yensen advised, approaching the Wraith closer. They were about the same height, so the Ermenian looked Koschei straight in the eyes. "You're cooperating with us. But give me just a reason to..."
"In many areas, Wraith technology uses the same principles as the Ancients," Koschei ignored the human. "We studied their technology as the most advanced. And where possible for our organic methods, we applied Ancient developments. In some hive-ships, partially mechanical compartments were used altogether, integrated into the overall ship structure. These are debris from Ancient starships. But what we couldn't solve for our technology is energy generation. Organic reactors can't produce as much power as Ancient mechanical ones. We couldn't integrate ship shield technology, and all attempts led to creating an energy bubble that didn't protect starships adequately. And it consumed energy on a huge scale. Because of this, we couldn't rely on the strength of ships with viewports. Those are vulnerabilities we couldn't afford. Just like violating aerodynamics laws."
"So you chose organic structure hulls for ship protection?" Mikhail clarified.
"Among other reasons," the Wraith confirmed. "The Ancients could afford to build space objects of any shapes and sizes—their shields reduced any physical resistances. Powerful shields of this subtype ships allowed having many viewports. And besides, humans feel uncomfortable in blind ships without the opportunity to at least look at space and stars. And moreover, all Ancient combat starships evolved from research ships, which had many viewports."
"Informative," Mikhail said. "What did you mean by subtypes of such ships?"
"The Ancients developed several versions of this type starships," the Wraith said. "We captured several at different times and saw that the Ancients changed the ships. From simple ones armed only with self-guided projectiles former research starships filled with various labs, to purely combat ships. On the latter, besides projectiles, there were also energy turrets. Or force fields blocking decompressed compartments. And much more. Not to mention more advanced hyperdrives. This ship," the Wraith looked around, "is very similar to the second generation of Ancient battleships."
"And how did you determine that?" Mikhail became interested.
"Hull shape, hangar position relative to the hull, and the bridge is quite familiar," Koschei explained.
"He knows too much about all this," Kirik said. "What's the guarantee that while helping us, he won't do something to put us in Wraith hands?"
Koschei burst into laughter.
"Not bad, human, not bad," he said. "But I made a deal with Mikhail. For now, its terms suit me. I'll help you with the ship repair. At least with what I know about these systems."
"And also get information on the state of our only combat ship," Chaya thought, stepping away from the Wraith's sudden appearance. Yes, she knew about the prisoner. But thought he would be used solely to revive people stuck on the Aurora.
Can't let him near main systems.
"I'll keep an eye on you," Yensen declared.
"As will I," Kirik joined.
"My people won't take their eyes off him either," Teyla assured.
"Well, and I," the Wraith squinted, looking at the Athosian, "will keep an eye on you, girl."
"Why?" one of the Athosians blurted.
"Because I have eyes," the Wraith laughed, looking at Mikhail. "So what are we waiting for? Work, or since everyone decided to refuel, will they feed me too?"
"Finish—and we'll talk about it," Mikhail promised. "Chaya, we dug up the needed amount of sand and created the crystals you asked for. Need to distribute them through the ship's systems..."
"Of course," Sar came to. "I'll take care of that..."
"It would be better if you and Koschei handle repairing more important systems," Mikhail said. "We already have a slow repair. So... Alright," the man sighed, seeing those present not taking eyes off the Wraith. "Koschei, promise not to attack anyone and not try to eat."
"It would be foolish for a predator to assure his prey of good intentions," the Wraith smirked. "Keep your word, human, and I'll leave them alive. If you deceive..."
"Stop nagging, Koschei," Mikhail asked. "Better grab a bag and... Chaya, we have problems with the hyperdrive?"
"I'll handle it myself," the girl said. "Go to the living quarters and fix the life support system there. We'll need cabins for long voyages."
"As you say," Mikhail agreed. "Koschei, grab one bag of crystals and let's work."
"These two coming with us?" the Wraith asked, seeing both former Runners move toward him.
"Of course," Mikhail confirmed. "Chaya, send us the malfunction schematic, we'll eliminate as we can..."
"Sorry," Norina Pero broke the silence. "And... This green one is the Wraith, right?"