Author's Note: The name for this story was kidnapped from the song "Another World" by Brian May, which was a loose inspiration for this whole story. Feel free to play it in the background during the emotional bits!

Stargate Atlantis: Drawn to A Different Light
By Reyclou

Chapter 01 - "Flight"

Dead emptiness stifled the sound of straining sub-light engines as the hulking grey form of a space cruiser raged through layers of atmosphere, pulling away from the vast grey ocean below. The Daedalus, looked almost turtle-like in appearance, but it was far from crawling. Blue energy fields enveloped the ship, holding back the friction fire of the atmosphere as the ship fled into the heavens. Golden orbs of light—Ancient drones—screamed like mini-meteors after the ship. The Daedalus wiggled and swayed in its climb, trying to lose the threat, but the missiles weaved and banked in unison.

Unable to outmaneuver the drones, the ship picked up speed, trying to outrun them. The desperate motion failed. Ancient drones slammed into the thinning shields, sending ripples of blue bright across the ship's expanse.

With a resounding boom of fire against steel, a brilliant flash of light spat sparks over the Daedalus crew as the force rocked the ship's bridge, faint smoke pouring from blackened circuit covers. Wordlessly, green clad airmen scrambled for their fire repellant equipment, ducking away from the residual bursts of electric fury. Commander Caldwell lurched involuntarily as his ship reeled from a strike to starboard. He kept a fierce eye on the frantic widescreen before him, grunting almost imperceptibly as his hands instinctively clutched the arms of his wide command chair. Catching himself, he rolled with the motion. Pilot's first rule: learn when to fight the G's and when to flow with them. One folly in this and they scrape your remains out of the cabin with a spatula.

Judging by the ever increasing blips popping across the sensor display, he didn't think they'd need the spatula. This attack could very well grind them into dust.

He turned to the blonde airman stationed to his right. "Captain, where are my shields?" He questioned coolly.

"Down to thirty percent, Sir." Captain Kleinman responded hurriedly, eyes twitching over his screen. His hands flitted across his controls, desperate to replenish the depleting shields. Caldwell wouldn't admit it in front of the crew, but they both knew the Daedalus wasn't meant for this kind of battle against this kind of technology. The outpost on Earth looked like a water pistol compared to the floating battle-fortress of Atlantis, a paragon of war and science-craft melded into one seamless snowflake of soaring architecture.

A nod of his head turned Caldwell's attention away from the captain to the young woman at the navigation center to his left. "As soon as we get the okay from the engine room, plot a course out of this system," he ordered, eyeing the threat warnings multiplying across the view screens. The woman nodded her head in acceptance as Caldwell flicked on his internal com. "We're losing ground fast. Do we have everyone yet?"

The pleasant, overeducated voice of an Asgard ally, Hermiod, replied over the com system. "I successfully beamed aboard several groups of your team left within the city," he explained in his slow rhythm. "However, the Atlantis shield has been activated, we cannot, as yet, bypass it."

Caldwell expected that answer, but it didn't ease his conscience any to hear. What men and women of his crew who had not made it aboard the ship when they fled the city would be left in enemy hands. For now. The thought made his gut run cold, but the colonel would not sacrifice his whole crew for the impossible hope of saving a few scattered members. "We've done what we can," he replied, trying not to growl. He flicked another switch. "Security teams, lock up anyone not wearing a flight suit. We'll sort them out when we get back to Earth and hope this galaxy is still in tact when we return," Caldwell stopped himself, picturing what would happen when he reported the failure of the Atlantis Expedition to the Pentagon, not to mention the loss of a costly line item. "If we return," he corrected. "If they resist, shoot to kill," he added, signaling Engineering again before anyone could refute his orders. No one tried. "Hermiod, I need those engines."

The Asgard sounded aggravatingly disinterested in his task. "The hyperdrive engines have taken several glancing blows. The ship itself may not…"

"Sir!" Klienman's call drowned out Hermiod's reply. The captain motioned to the sensor display as several dots blips of light moved dangerously close to the ship. He risked a glance to his own panel. "Shield strength waning!"

"Hermiod, we need those engines, NOW!" the colonel pressed.

Outside, scattered fires of golden lights dove Hell bent on the ship, their screams silenced in the freezing night. The Daedalus arced into a final, desperate roll and far above the forsaken city, a bright light broke fast and fierce, the explosion deafened by the oppressive silence of space.