Ronon ducked and covered the side of his head with his arm as the low flying Dart exploded into a ball of flaming pieces that came hurtling his way. When the heat no longer scorched the air around his head he looked over at Carter, and at the smoking tube she still balanced on her shoulder and said, "You might want to try using those things when the Darts are a little further away next time."

He was teasing, and it was good natured. His spirits had lifted a little since the arrival of the additional ordnance. They were still hard pressed by the Wraith, but at least now they were able to take out some of the Darts that came at them. It was starting to cut down on the numbers of Wraith on the ground, as they were unable to beam them in, and that meant his people were getting closer to their objective.

Beside him, Carter turned and grinned at him and then dropped the missile launcher beside her and snatched up her P90 ready to take on the Wraith warriors already bearing down on their position.

Ronon glanced at the groups of marines fighting around them still fighting in close quarters with the Wraith, and others further out, still filling the air with the rattle of their weapons as they sought to keep the rest of the Wraith from joining in the hand to hand combat. It wasn't going to be easy.

He sighed as another pair of Darts flew overhead taking advantage of the break in the firing of ground to air missiles, and beamed in two more groups of Wraith warriors, before shaking the ground with the thunderous explosions of their incoming strafing runs toward the Gate.

"Come on, Sheppard," he said under his breath, and looked to the sky as if the Colonel would hear him. "Where's this better idea of yours?"

**

"They're going to come after you," McKay finally opened his mouth to voice the thought that had been going through his mind as long as he had been watching Michael move around the laboratory, silently engaged in his work. Michael straightened up from the instrument he was working with, his back straight, head tilted at an angle as though he was considering the words, but he did not offer an answer. "You won't get away with this, you know that."

"Then what would you have me do, Doctor McKay, surrender?"

"Well, it's an option," McKay tried, "I mean—"

Michael turned from his work then to fix him with a serious expression as though he was unsure if McKay expected him to believe him. He watched the succession of memories pass across Michael's face, barely perceptible but for the deepening of the frown and the darkening of his pupils. It wasn't long before McKay realised he had misspoken.

"—Right… yeah," he said quickly, "Maybe not."

"Once. Perhaps," Michael said as he crossed the room toward him, surprisingly calmly for the fire of anger that Rodney could see burning coldly in his eyes. "There had been the option of working together with your Atlantis expedition, but I think you realise as well as do I that it will never happen. Not any more."

McKay watched him, hawk-like as he reached for the clip on the line leading into the cannula and flicked it closed. Even knowing what Michael was about to do, McKay still flinched when he turned and picked up a sharp scalpel from a nearby instrument tray.

"You will not be harmed, Doctor, so long as you cooperate. I have given my word to that." He froze as Michael slipped the scalpel beneath the bandage that secured the drip into his arm, and began to cut the bandage away, still watching Michael's every move. "And I am certain that I can find… some role for you within my army."

"And what makes you think that I'll cooperate," McKay said, flinching only slightly as Michael withdrew the needle from his arm and secured a gauze pad into place.

"I can be," Michael looked up into his eyes then, and Rodney couldn't help but swallow at the expression he saw, "very persuasive. As well you're aware."

"At this stage, Michael, what's the worst you can do to me? Kill me? That's going to happen anyway – if not you, then the Wraith, so it's hardly a threat." He was on a roll, his instinct for self preservation overriding his good sense not to keep talking and risk aggravating Michael still further. "You've already said that Lorne is dying so—"

"I said there was nothing more I could do for him; that I have done everything that I can. Not that he is dying." Michael interrupted.

"Oh no," Rodney shook his head, glancing over to Lorne, "No, no, no. I'm not going to let you hold him over my head like some— I'm not—"

"Ah yes," Michael smiled wryly, "The good Doctor Beckett."

He began to walk away, back over to where Lorne lay amid what Rodney could only assume was medical equipment that was helping to keep the major alive.

"He and I worked very well together," Michael continued, almost as though he was somehow nostalgic, reminiscing. "He had a brilliant mind. I managed to complete a great deal more of my research while working with him. Human genetics are so… malleable, so—"

"He's not even the real Carson!"

Michael looked up from making a slight adjustment to the machinery around Lorne, glancing over his shoulder toward Rodney.

"I see," he said softly. "He was your friend."

"Is," he insisted, "You keep talking about him in the past tense."

Michael turned away from Lorne to look at him face on once more. "Doctor Carson Beckett is dead, Doctor McKay."

"But you, you—"

"I created a clone, manipulated his DNA to allow the imprinting of his memories, his personality—" One of the machines in the laboratory let out a soft series of bleeps interrupting him, and Michael turned his head quickly in that direction and then began to walk toward the equipment, to make adjustments and lean down to study an image that had appeared on a small screen on the front of the device. "No matter… you and the others will soon understand that there is nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable. That which has been set in motion; that will be completed when the child is born—"

"Teyla," McKay said, looking around as though he expected to see her. "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

Michael stiffened, and growled slightly as the words left McKay's mouth. "She is in her quarters. Resting," he said in a tone that almost dared Rodney to contradict him, to question him further about Teyla. Before Rodney could weigh the pros and cons of trying to find out more about Michael and his plans by pushing him, he added, "And before you ask, Captain Vega is comfortable, and in the holding area." He turned again then, and met Rodney's gaze. The darkened gold of his eyes almost glowed in the dim light of the laboratory. "She was… persuaded to give me the computer component you took from my facility. Thank you, Doctor."

The chill with which the words were infused crossed the space between them in the small laboratory and wrapped itself around Rodney's already fearful mind.

**

"Colonel," the Con. Officer's voice broke in on Sheppard's darkening thoughts making him jump. "We're in range."

"All stop," Caldwell ordered, and then turned to Sheppard, "Point of no return, Sheppard. It's your call but for what it's worth I still think it's a bad idea."

"We have no choice, Colonel," he answered, turning again to look out of the view screen. "We need to stir up the whole nest of hornets if we're going to have any chance of getting our people out."

"And even then you're running the risk of one of these Wraith bastards blowing Michael's cruiser to hell and our people along with it."

Sheppard shook his head. "Michael won't let that happen. He's not stupid. He deliberately put that moon between him and the Hives. He was expecting them and he knows he won't stay hidden forever." He looked over at Zelenka to help him out with the intricacies of the plan.

"We're just going to use the distraction to slip in, disable Michael's comm. array so we can fly the Daedalus in and beam out McKay and the others," the scientist explained simplistically, and pushed his spectacles up along his nose.

Sheppard threw him a none-too-appreciative look. He could have explained it in those simple terms himself and had expected Zelenka to explain more fully the importance of being able to disable the comm. array on the cruiser. Zelenka just shrugged apologetically.

Caldwell sighed and shook his head, but said, "All right. If you think this will work…" he turned to his bridge crew and ordered, "Exit silent running. Fighter crews to the three-oh-twos. Disengage the cloak."

Sheppard couldn't help but hold his breath. Almost as soon as the cloak disengaged the noses of at least a half dozen Wraith Darts and one of the cruisers flying along side the Hives turned their way. Even before the Con. Officer called out, "They've seen us," he knew that they were now committed.

"Raise shields," Caldwell ordered, taking his place in the command chair. "Charge Asgard weapons."

Sheppard sighed again. He felt useless. He met Zelenka's worried gaze across the bridge and flinched as the shields flared briefly when the first of the Darts fired on the Daedalus.

"Our fighters are away."

"Let's see it," Caldwell answered.

Immediately, in front of the view screen, the large heads up winked into view as the sensors relayed the action in theatre. Sheppard watched the F302s head in the direction of the Hives, weaving and dodging around the ever protective Darts, following their orders to capture the attention of the Wraith commanders; to lead as many of the ships as possible toward Michael.

**

Rodney had lost track of the time that he had watched in silence as Michael alternated his attention between his scientific instruments, and tending to Major Lorne. He seemed alive to the nuances; to the changes in tone and pitch of the machinery around Lorne which in hindsight Rodney could easily hear, but which at the time had been barely perceptible.

He saw Michael make yet more adjustments at one of the panels, and then stand watching the display, immobile except for the occasional glance down onto the figure of the Major.

"Answer something?" Rodney said, unable to stand the silence any longer, bursting with hundreds of thoughts and even more questions about the scientific elements of Michael's work in spite of his flat refusal to help his campaign to subjugate the entire Pegasus galaxy to his will.

Michael glanced over his shoulder, his head tilted, which McKay took to mean he should continue, so he said, "That equipment… is it there to monitor his vitals, or is it in some way keeping him alive?"

Michael frowned at him, an expression almost of confusion.

"The… stuff… the… thing you keep adjusting there…" he nodded toward the machine beside Michael, since his arms were still held in the restraints.

"For a scientist, Doctor McKay," Michael finally spoke, "you are very imprecise with your vocabulary."

"Oh and suddenly you're the expert on—"

Michael turned around to face the doorway, almost sending Rodney's heart into convulsions, until he saw that two of Michael's soldiers were waiting there.

"Report," Michael snapped.

"The Hives know we are here. They are sending their Darts ahead of them, but they are coming. The Lantean ships also."

"So," Michael nodded to his hybrids. "Once again, Colonel Sheppard seeks to manipulate situations over which he has little or no control; to manipulate my actions and to force my hand."

He turned his head slightly toward Rodney, and McKay realised then that the statement had been for his benefit, rather than that of the hybrids, or mere idle musing.

"Or maybe to rescue the people you took from him," McKay added with heavy sarcasm.

Michael ignored him. Instead he turned back to his hybrids. "You know what to do," he said in a firm and clipped tone to one of them. To the other he said, "Take Doctor McKay to the Launch Bay with the others. I will complete my work here, and join you in the auxiliary control room."

"Wait a minute," McKay started, but the hybrid soldier did not stop. "What do you mean, 'the launch bay'?"

Michael paused in tending once again to Major Lorne and turned to look at him. "You didn't imagine I was going to leave you behind, did you Doctor?"

**

The deck beneath his feet lurched as yet another explosion rocked the Daedalus. It made little difference whether he watched through the view screen or whether he returned to stand near Caldwell so that he could analyse the progress of their F302s against the Wraith ships. The truth remained the same either way. They were as outmanned here in space as they had been on the ground, and the most sensible, tactical decision would have been to get the hell out of there and leave the battle to Michael and the Wraith.

"I won't leave our people behind," he murmured under his breath, speaking to no one but himself.

"Excuse me?" Caldwell asked, frowning in his direction.

Sheppard snapped out of his morbid contemplation and approached the command position on the bridge. Speaking more briskly he said, "We need to target the smaller of the two Hives."

"What? Why?" Caldwell snapped grabbing a hold of the sides of his chair as the bridge shook again.

"Look at the formation of its ships," Sheppard pointed at the heads up. "It's sending in its Darts, it's even committed one of the two cruisers it has along side of it, but it's staying out of the battle."

"Which frankly is a blessing," Caldwell snapped, and as if to prove his objection to the plan that Sheppard was beginning to outline Daedalus pitched wildly under the onslaught of the explosions. Caldwell quickly called out, "Shields?"

"Seventy three percent."

"We're not going to be able to sit here and take much more of this," Caldwell turned his attention back to Sheppard, "And if you pull that Hive into the battle, that's one, potentially two more ships to be shooting at us if they commit the second cruiser as well."

"It won't come to that," Sheppard sighed. "Honestly, with both Hives committing to battle, Michael won't have a choice but to respond."

"He already has," Caldwell's answer held the tired tone of someone explaining something that should have been obvious. "He sent that wave of Darts in to cover his escape. You said yourself, he's not stupid." Caldwell shook his head apologetically, "I have to think about the safety of this ship, John. I'm sorry." Then to his crew he ordered, "Prepare to come about."

"Wait!" Sheppard called out, "Wait," He leaned closer to the command chair, "Colonel, please… stopping Michael from leaving is our first priority; to get our people out safely, and the only way we can do that is to get the other Hive to engage," Sheppard looked at the Daedalus commander imploringly. "With three of us out here cutting off his escape…" he reached out and grasped Steven Caldwell forearm. "…trust me, Michael will have no choice but bring his cruiser into battle."

He locked eyes with the colonel as if he could make the man see the succession of dark thoughts, the succession of his failure to protect those under his command, to whom he had a duty of care, rolling through his mind and influence him with them. He thought of Teyla and her unborn child… of Rodney, Lorne and even Vega, prisoners of Michael and probably being subjected to all kinds of torture.

For what seemed like an age the two of them remained locked in unspoken conversation. Finally Caldwell broke their silence. "Shields?"

"Fifty nine percent."

He nodded resolutely. "Load all forward batteries. Stand by all drones." He glanced at Sheppard. John nodded and a second later, Caldwell ordered, "Take us in. Target the second Hive."

**

Sam couldn’t help but grin as one by one the Darts began climbing into the planet's upper atmosphere, leaving them to face only the remaining Wraith on the ground. Whatever he'd done, it seemed that Sheppard's plan was working.

"All units… move in!" she ordered, still having to yell over the noise of the ongoing battles, "Secure the Gate!" She paused only to pull out the empty magazine from her P90 and slap home the replacement, before she raised the weapon and began firing. "Ronon!" she yelled, "We need to get control of the DHD."

"Way ahead of you," he answered, literally leaping toward the Wraith that stood between them and the controls to access the Stargate.

After only a moment, Sam found she had to stop giving the man supporting fire because everywhere she aimed her weapon there he seemed to be. Knife in hand, Ronon lashed out at one, then turned and kicked another who was seeking to rise after an earlier blow, full in the face. It was simply too great a risk to try and fire into the melee without hitting the Satedan himself. She turned her fire instead towards ensuring that no others came to join their Wraith companions in the fierce hand to hand and bloody battle that Ronon fought against them.

For several long minutes she stood hunched over her rattling automatic weapon, taking down any Wraith that even dared to set foot in Ronon's direction, until a roaring growl made her turn again.

Ronon was pinned against the ground by two large Wraith. His feet lashed out toward one of them, seeking a scissor motion that would take the Wraith's feet from under him. But the canny Wraith kept his feet spread, his centre of balance low, and ultimately was not going to be easily moved. The other, however, leaning over Ronon was vulnerable. It wouldn't take much to tip his balance and send him tumbling away from her friend. Without a second thought she set off running and launched herself through the air toward the bending Wraith.

She did not quite expect the Wraith to be as solid as he was and the impact knocked the wind out of her. It also produced the desired result and overbalanced the Wraith, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Already winded, hitting the ground stunned her dangerously, with her head turned toward where Ronon was already gaining the upper hand against the one remaining Wraith. He pulled him down to meet his raised forearm, which he beat repeatedly against the now stumbling warrior's masked face.

A sharp pain in her side broke her stupor. She raised her hands defensively, almost by instinct to catch the wrist of the arm that had begun to descend toward her. In the absence of a weapon, knocked from his grasp when they fell, the Wraith had resorted to instinct of his own.

Her muscles burned as she fought to hold back the Wraith's hand. Every nightmare flashed before her as she twisted and squirmed beneath him, alternately clawing at him and beating him with her free hand. Her fingers encountered flesh and she tore at it; tearing away the mask to reveal the twisted, bloody facelessness beneath, just as the muscles in her arm buckled, and the Wraith's feeding hand struck her shoulder.

A wordless scream bubbled in her throat, gathering an unfulfilled momentum, because as she opened her mouth, a high pitched whine, deafeningly close, drowned out awareness of all else. The side of her face was scorched by an incredible heat, but the Wraith on top of her flew backwards, freeing her to roll aside, and bring up all of her imagined pain, and very real fear into the dirt beside her.

When she could turn her head, she saw Ronon lying on his back, his arm still outstretched, clutching his blaster, breathing hard.

"You all right?" he asked, and it was only then she realised that the sounds of battle around them had dwindled to almost nothing. She nodded wordlessly, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She heard rather than saw Ronon climb to his feet but even so, almost jumped when he leaned down to take her by the arm and pull her to her own.

"I'm okay," she managed to gasp. "I'm okay." She looked up at him and shook her head as he opened his mouth to speak. After another moment she gave him a gentle push toward where the DHD finally stood open to them. "Dial the gate."

**

Sleep still hung heavily around her, weighing her feet and making every step an effort. The hybrid soldier that had woken her had barely spoken a word, simply shaken her awake and bidden her to follow him. From what she had managed to work out of the geography of the cruiser, she guessed that she was once more being taken to the launch bay.

She sighed softly and ran a hand across her face. So much had happened. So many things about which she had been certain before were suddenly in flux and it frightened her the way that so many of the things that were nipping at the edges of her conscience called so much into question. Her fear was unsettling the child and the feeling of it was leaving her winded and a little nauseous. Greater even that that was the gnawing doubts growing inside of her that left her feeling vulnerable and lonely; needing of a moment's warmth.

As they approached the junction in the corridors, where they would turn to head toward the launch bay, she saw the figure within the holding cell throw off a coarse blanket and rush forwards. A wiry young woman with dark hair, wearing oversized clothes which had obviously been supplied to her since she arrived on the ship, threaded her arms through the bars of the cell and reached out to her.

"Teyla?" she called, and her voice was full of surprise.

She slowed her steps until she came to a stop, a hand resting protectively over her belly, "I am sorry," she said, "but I do not know you."

"Of course you wouldn't, I… we never met," the woman said, "My name is Alicia. Alicia Vega."

Teyla's frown deepened, and a slight, but definite nagging push filled her with the urge to back away from the woman. She shook her head. She did not recognise the name even though the woman spoke to her as though she should.

"I…" she began, trying to find a way to answer her.

"I'm a captain with the Atlantis expedition."

"Atlantis…?" Teyla blinked, and this time took a step forward, "I am sorry, I did not know—"

"I was brought here along with Doctor McKay and Major Lorne, I… I don't know where they were taken, but—"

Teyla stepped right up to the bars this time, putting some distance between her and her escort. She tipped her head first one way and then the other to check that there was no one coming who would prevent her from speaking with the woman.

"Michael took them to his laboratory." Teyla said. "But please… what of the others? They are coming?"

"What is he doing to them?" The tremor and the horrified tone in the woman's voice was a like a slap to the face. Frowning, her insides twisting into knots, Teyla took a step back. Not far enough, however, as the frightened woman reached out quickly and grabbed her arm. "Please… I need to know."

"Let go, Alicia, you must not—" She pulled against the woman's hand, reaching with her own to try and peel the touch away. "Michael, he—"

Vega held on in spite of her tugging against the contact. The woman shuddered, and tightened her grip at the mention of Michael. "He came…" She whimpered slightly. "He took—"

"Let go of me," Teyla pulled still harder against the touch. "Please, you—"

"He said—"

"I told you that your future is already decided, Captain Vega," Michael announced as he arrived silently.

Teyla closed her eyes in a long, slow blink as he unmasked himself to her and the touch of his mind in hers, reaching for her to calm the disquiet that gripped her as surely as Vega's touch on her arm, became a strength for her. She did not miss, however, the protective edge of his anger at the woman's audacity, and became more than aware of the danger the young woman was putting herself in. Teyla stopped struggling with her, imploring the woman with her eyes to let go of her, feeling Michael slowly approaching.

He stopped just behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, and raised his hands to barely cup her shoulders and ease her away from the Captain's restraining touch. It fell away from her arm as surely as a leaf from a tree in fall. Teyla did not move far from his side.

"Very wise, Captain," he said in a rumbling, dangerous tone. Then to his soldiers added with more than a little cruel bite in his voice, "Take her."

"No… please…!" Vega backed away from the doors that spiralled open as Michael operated the control. "Teyla, help me, please!"

The comfort and warmth she felt surrounding her burst suddenly, uncertainty, fear and anger falling to drench every part of her in a sudden cold sweat. She half turned and frowned at Michael, taking a step away from him even as Vega tried to avoid his hybrids.

"Where are you taking her?" she demanded.

Michael glanced at her, answering, "She will go with the others." Then he glanced at the hybrid soldier nearby to where Teyla was standing. He moved past her to assist the other in retrieving the captain from the cell.

"Go where?" Vega demanded struggling with them as the soldiers took her by the arms, and all but carried her, crying out in protest for every step they took. "Please… where are you taking me?"

Michael did not answer and Teyla knew she did not stand a chance to stop them. She might have been able to disable one of them… and if she were lucky free the woman so that she could run from the other, but she knew the moment that she moved against either of them, Michael would stop her.

The woman's cries of protest faded and for a moment or two there was silence. Michael turned to her, a tangibly hurt expression on his face. She felt answering tears come into her eyes, even though she tried not to listen to the tumbling emotions inside of her. "What would you have me do?" he asked her at length, "The Hives have found us," he told her, tilting his head, "Lead here by your Lantean friends."

He took another step toward her, but this time, rather than back away again, she took a side step, beginning to circle, "They will never give you a moment's peace, Michael," she said to him. "You know that—"

He shook her head, "It does not matter."

"—especially not so long as I am here," she finished, and this time she did back up a little as he closed the circle toward her.

"Then I ask you again, what would you have me do?"

"Let us go," she told him. "Vega, Doctor McKay, Major Lorne—"

"You must forget the Major," he said, taking another step. "Think of him as… a casualty of war."

She took another step away from him… backed up until she had nowhere left to go; was pressed against the bulkhead. What had happened to the others was all her fault. If she had been more careful, if she had listened to Sam instead of chasing half remembered dreams that she knew now to be a lie she—

"No," Michael told her, taking a halting step towards her. "When I reached out to you there was not a word spoken that was a lie. You must come with me, Teyla. I need—"

She wrapped her arm protectively around her belly, using the fear she had for her son to try and quash all thoughts of the way her stomach suddenly tightened at his words. She cut him off. "He is my child, Michael. I will not allow you to use him."

"Teyla…" A soft voice to the side of the open space made her turn her head. Kanaan stood looking at her, hands by his side, and in one of them he held a weapon. "…please, there's much you don't understand… you must listen to him—"

"Kanaan—?" she started, but her voice cracked and stopped the rest of the sentence before it began.

"—You must go with him," Kanaan continued.

"No, I can't, I—"

"You must." Kanaan said darkly and took a step further into the area. She watched him, tears gathering in her eyes. The conflict inside of her stirred still more deeply as she looked on the man who had once been her closest childhood friend. Never would she have imagined she could have gone so far as to cross such a line.

She sensed the change in the feeling coming from Michael in the same moment that the background hum of the ship changed the way it vibrated through her contact with the bulkhead. A smouldering anger, mixed with resigned longing washed over her. Michael took another step toward her, and with nowhere to go, she started to raise her hands, meaning to fend him off.

"We don't have time for this," he told her, suddenly reaching forward, "It's not safe here. We must go."

"No!" She lashed out as he reached for her and on pure reflex he blocked the blow, and took another step toward her as she growled, "I will not—"

The pain was only fleeting - a burning heat that began somewhere in her chest as the rhythm of her heart faltered. It spread outwards through all of her limbs, draining her strength. She managed to turn her head toward a sound she had barely registered – high pitched and harsh. Kanaan still stood with his weapon raised, and pointed in her direction.

"No… Kanaan," she whispered, and as the blue lights of the cruiser began to darken around her, she reached for the one person who had only ever been true to his words to her.

Michael caught her flailing hand and guided it to his shoulder as his arm came around her, supportive and strong. He gently lowered her to the deck and did not let go of her.

She took strength from his mind too, from the connection they shared and from the burning fury that bubbled inside… anything was preferable to the blackness of her own feeling of betrayal. No sooner she reached for his mind, however, than Michael pushed away his anger to support her with resolve of a different kind, holding onto her consciousness with his own.

She whispered his name.

-Don't speak-

"She would have fought you," Kanaan's voice held none of the warmth she remembered from their childhood, their friendship. "I know Teyla."

"You overreach yourself!" Michael snapped, his voice a whip this time. "Go and join the others. You have work to do."

"Michael…" she whispered, and tried to move her hand along his shoulder, to touch his cheek, but as she tried, he slowly released his hold on her consciousness. Her hand slipped and fell across his arm as he gently picked her up. She barely registered their movement as he carried her from the area.

**

"The larger Hive is almost in range of the moon," the Con. Officer's voice broke in on the tension on the bridge. "Second cruiser is moving in."

"Whoever's in command of this Hive, he's not falling for it, Sheppard." Caldwell raised his voice to cut through the noise of the many alarms that were sounding on the bridge.

"Shields are at thirty seven percent," the gunner called out.

"We have to withdraw, if you want to get our people out, we have to make sure there's a ship to get them out with." Caldwell turned in his seat and Sheppard looked up from trying to operate a fire extinguisher with just one hand.

He swore. He'd been certain the Wraith commander would follow them and engage his Hive in the battle. He'd been certain the prestige of being the one to take out the shame that Michael was to the Wraith would have been too much to resist. Caldwell was right… and he'd screwed up, and now they had to hurry to protect Michael's cruiser for long enough to get their two-man team aboard, take out the comm. array, and beam their people off the ship. He swore again, and kicked the bulkhead wall.

Caldwell evidently took that for assent because in the next moment he began calling out his orders, "Aft shields to maximum. Get us out of here. Doctor Zelenka?"

"Colonel?"

"Is there anything you can do to boost shields?"

Zelenka thought for a moment or two before he said, "Well, if I could reroute the power from the—"

"I don't need an explanation, Doctor. Just get it done."

"Right, I—" Zelenka pointed ahead of himself before he hurried off the bridge.

**

Perhaps it was the sound of the alarms that woke her, or the way the ship bucked beneath her, but the moment she opened her eyes, she felt Michael turn away from the console in the auxiliary control room and come to her, where she lay on one of the benches there at the side of the room. He steadied her as she sat up slowly, and then held something out in her direction. She looked up into the concern she saw on his face.

"Drink this," he told her softly, "It will help to ease your head."

"What is happening?" she asked him, grimacing at the taste of the liquid in the small tumbler he gave her. He reached to take it back from her and set it aside. "I am cold."

She wrapped her arms around herself, but he was already reaching for the blanket beside her even as he answered, "It is the effect of the stunner. It will pass."

As he tucked the blanket around her, she reached up to catch his hand, pressing her chilled palm to the back, and curling her fingertips over the side of his hand.

He took in a breath sharply, let it out slowly, and said, "Teyla…"

"Michael," she said, her eyes moistened even as she began to speak. Everything of the last few hours came flooding back. Her chest tightened in the makings of a sob and the solitude, the deepest need for simple human comfort threatened to break her apart. "What is to happen—?"

"Soon we will leave," he said, his eyes on her hand, joined with his. "It will not be much longer."

Worry, the need for a place of safety for her and for the child to come. Wrapping his strength and his protection around the both of them—

The thought cut off abruptly. "I am… afraid," she said, and as she blinked, the tears she had fought so hard to contain since she was first brought to his ship, rolled down her cheek. One of them fell to splash against their hands.

He frowned, and looked up, tilting his head, and then almost hesitantly reached out toward the moisture on her cheek. "I have told you, Teyla. I will not allow any harm to come to you."

"Then please…" She closed her eyes and drew in a soft gasp as the tips of his fingers finally grazed against her cheekbone. She tilted her head and almost leaned into the touch, the breath she took shook as she exhaled. Her lower lip trembled with the press of her emotion and she whispered, "…Michael, h—"

The ship tilted suddenly, violently. She gripped his hand more tightly and he caught her closer to him to stop the explosion that had rocked the ship from spilling her to the floor.

"There is no more time," he said, and freeing his hand from hers, he took her by the shoulders and all but lifted her to her feet. From out of nowhere, one of his hybrids appeared at his shoulder. Michael took the blanket from her and pushed her slightly, guiding her toward the soldier as he came forward. "Go with him. He will take you to my ship."

"But you—"

Michael took little notice of her objection. He addressed his soldiers. "You each know what to do," and then to the soldier standing at her side he said, "Take her."

The hybrid gripped her upper arm and led her quickly from the control room and into the launch bay. She looked back over her shoulder, to see Michael working, an almost fervent expression on his face.

It did not take long to reach the scout ship that Michael had adapted to his personal needs, though it took longer for her to clamber inside. The deck rocked again beneath them and she almost slipped, but the hybrid caught her, steadied her, and she was able to climb aboard.

She turned her head to watch as several others took their places in the launch bay and the control room, then felt, and heard Michael move to address them, though she could not see.

"Status?" he demanded.

The hybrid at the tactical controls answered, "The Lantean ship that was attacking the Queen's Hive has withdrawn. One of the two cruisers is heavily damaged. It has lost hyperdrive and is venting atmosphere."

"Well, then, let's finish it." Michael said, his voice as deadly as she had ever heard. The hybrids, who had been standing almost in formation in the launch bay each turned and headed for the many Darts his ship carried.

**

Summoned from his research by the call of his fellow Wraith on the bridge, he walked quickly through the corridors of the cruiser. It had taken many years to perfect the technology they were about to use, and he was insistent that it would be he that would strike the killing blow… not the least of it to get the undeniably beautiful, but equally as demanding and deadly Queen off his back. He commanded his own Hive, and did not need the interference of a Queen in his plans. He suffered the alliance only for the resources her Hive could provide for his research.

He sighed. News travels quickly in a race of telepaths and he had known that, sooner or later, one of the remaining Queens would recognise his skills, his usefulness and approach him with the suggestion of such an alliance. He had not expected it would be this one, but, since it was, and he had little by way of a reason to refuse without arousing suspicion, he had agreed, and then had watched in mounting disquiet as little by little, what had begun as an alliance slowly became subjugation, as more and more of his Hive Brothers were subsumed by the Elder Queen. Still… soon now…

~report~

He came to know that the Lantean warship, with her shields failing, had been forced to withdraw. The Abomination's cruiser was moving from behind the moon and that many more of his Darts had been launched and were heading into the battle against several targets, though mainly against the Hives. He paused as he reached the controls of the new weapon and tilted his head; curious… so he had been wrong… the Abomination did not intend to hide behind the Humans and their ships.

"Survival of the fittest," he crooned, speaking to no one but himself, "Good…" he watched dispassionately as the enemy unleashed a devastating salvo against the cruiser alongside his own. He saw the chain reaction begin to spread through the cruiser's systems and then activated his own enhanced shielding as the ship succumbed to the onslaught and sent out a deadly shockwave that consumed many of the smaller ships, like ashes in its wake.

He moved the targeting scanner of the Cascade Beam weapon to pinpoint the communications centre of the Abomination's cruiser. He knew that in the wake of the explosion the sensors would be less than accurate, and probably would not register that the ship was being targeted, and warn the operator in time for them to take evasive action.

With a strength of conviction he moved his hand over the controls and gave the combined physical and mental command to fire the weapon.

**

"It's confirmed," the gunner announced as the sensors cleared, "Michael's target is destroyed…"

"And the Darts?" Sheppard asked. Even though he was used to reading a tactical heads up display, he was finding it difficult to follow the many symbols that showed each of the sides of the battle.

"Heading for the Hives." the man confirmed Sheppard's suspicions. "Probably trying to force them to leave."

"And our Jumper?"

"Heading for—" a bright flash from the forward view screen cut off the gunner's report.

"What the hell was that?" Caldwell demanded.

"I have no idea," Sheppard answered, "but it can't be good."

"It came from the remaining Wraith cruiser, Sir," the gunner reported, "and whatever it is, it's heading directly for Michael."

"Open a channel to our Jum—" Caldwell ordered.

"Belay that," Sheppard snapped almost before the colonel had the words out. "We do that we'll give away their position, and we still need them to board Michael's ship and take out the array."

"When that thing hits, who's to say there'll be anything left of Michael's ship or our people?" Caldwell snapped in response, and Sheppard shivered, watching as the stream of energy closed the final distance to Michael's ship.

**

Teyla shifted uncomfortably as she waited in the scout ship. A part of her wanted to climb back out and investigate why she felt such concern, almost fear, coming from Michael… but another part of her knew that she had to stay where she was; that something was going to happen, and would happen soon, and suddenly, and she had to be ready…

She reached out to his mind…

…Michael…

-timing is critical-

She saw the sensor readings through his eyes, and though she could make sense of little, she did identify that a large amount of a very powerful, very bright energy was heading straight for the ship. She felt the pull of the controls, the restraint with which he held himself… concentration incarnate, even with her so connected to him as she was now, and even with the two of the remaining hybrids moving to his side.

She held her breath… the beam, she knew, meant death, and there was barely a breath between the forward edge of it and the ship…

**

Under his breath, Sheppard muttered, "Come on, Michael, don't just sit there," hardly believing those words would be coming out of his mouth.

He closed his eyes as the beam reached Michael's ship and the shield around the cruiser flared brightly. He wished he could shut his ears just as easily as the gunner's voice rang out over the bridge.

"Oh my God—"

His heart sank; shrivelled. He'd gambled and he'd lost. So many lost to save so few, but on his team, so long as he was the military commander, no one was left behind. No one.

"—it's holding!"

"What!" his eyes snapped open and he peered at the heads up, but even as he looked it fizzled into darkness, no longer receiving data from the sensors.

"What the hell just happened?" Caldwell snapped.

"Sorry, Colonel," the gunner said, "Whatever Michael did, it took out our sensors."

Sheppard abandoned the technology in favour of good, old-fashioned eyesight and watched in fascination as the beam, somehow reflected from Michael's shields, undulated, wavelike, toward the Wraith cruiser. He had to, albeit grudgingly, admire Michael's ingenuity. Worrying, however, was the fact that Darts in the near vicinity of the energy wave were, apparently spontaneously, blooming into rich explosions.

"Get our fighters out of there," he turned and ordered the Con. Officer.

"No can do, Sir," the man reported, "It took out communications as well."

"Zelenka!"

"Already on it." The scientist dashed from one side of the bridge to the other. "From the data we captured just before the sensors went down, it's possible that Michael reconfigured his shield harmonics to interfere with the energy of the beam."

Sheppard almost started to feel better with the explanation he could, at least in general if not the specifics of the matter, understand.

"The trouble is, doing that has disrupted the subspace carrier wave on which most of our sensors and communications rely." Zelenka concluded.

"You always have to go and spoil a good explanation with scientific mumbo-jumbo." he complained cheerfully. "Can you fix it?"

"I should be able to reconfigure our communications array to compensate," Zelenka said, "Yes."

**

She did not physically need to be on the bridge to see what was happening in battle. She heard it all, and saw as the bridge crew saw, if she so wished. But somehow that made it all so remote… so distant.

They moved aside for her as she swept into their midst, gave up the position from which the most could be seen, and moved to control the Hive from auxiliary consoles. She watched, Dart against Dart… against the human ships, all seeking the same… victory… dominion.

He was ready. She could feel his surprise that the Unclean One had ceased to hide behind his Lantean progenitors – no… not surprise. Elation. She tilted her head a hissed, long and low. It would prove the death of him. Either that or it would prove him worthy, and she was not yet sure which.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, focussing… concentrating… eager for the outcome to be known… pushing just enough against the barrier she found in the heart of the network of minds to be able to feel the anger – the betrayal and to taste the hurt of it…

Her eyes snapped open suddenly. Something was wrong. Some part of the Hive around her was unclean… contaminated…

=Breached… Fools, we have been breached=

Immediately the shrill screech of the alarm began to sound, but already it was too late. The pain of the damage to the Hive flowed through her as the foreign Dart fired its weapons in the heart of her landing bay, even as her own Darts rose to her defence.

This could not happen… must not be allowed. She was vulnerable here… they must protect the Hive. She felt the ship turn in answer to her silent command; felt the surge and the answering pull of the inertial dampening field as they accelerated toward the opening hyperspace window…

**

Zelenka stood over the open drawer, moving around the lighted control crystals, before attaching his computer tablet to a number of points within. His fingers moved rapidly over the keys as he said, "After I have reconfigured the array we should—"

"Colonel Sheppard!" The gunner paled as the sensor telemetry flicked back into view on the heads up.

"What?" Sheppard rushed back to sweep his eyes over the display. Seeing nothing that could have evoked such a reaction in the seasoned officer, he repeated, "What?"

"I have a lock."

John Sheppard frowned in confusion and was about to ask the man for clarification, when Colonel Caldwell snapped, "What are you talking about?"

"Our people. It's just one signal but—"

"That means the beam took out Michael's shields and jamming capabilities," Sheppard skidded to a halt behind the gunner, trying to see just whose subcutaneous transmitter they had found.

Not that it mattered, not to him, and not to Caldwell who ordered quickly, "Take us in, fast. Shields to maximum."

**

Teyla braced herself against the sides of the scout ship as the cruiser shook from yet another explosion. Her back ached terribly and no matter which way she tried to sit in the restrictive seat of the scout ship, nothing brought relief. She looked around toward the control room and even across the distance could see the open concern etched onto Michael's face.

She felt him, waiting… poised and watchful and her own muscles tensed in response to the control by which he held his to stillness. As the ship pitched again from another explosion, this one somewhere deep within the cruiser itself, her belly twisted, tensing in worry. She folded her arms across her torso, deeply afraid for her child.

-as soon as it is safe we will leave-

Safe to leave? She did not understand how it could not be safer to leave than to stay.

His confidence of that flooded through her, warming her, insulating her from the fear. She still did not understand, but in that moment it did not matter.

"As soon as we're clear, target the remaining Hive. Force them to make the jump to hyperspace," she heard Michael instruct the one hybrid that remained in the control room.

"I understand," he said, dispassionately.

With the two remaining soldiers at his side, Michael turned and started toward the waiting ships. They were half way across the launch bay when the cruiser rattled in the aftermath of another explosion that was beginning to tear the cruiser apart.

Pain, sudden, deep and penetrating tightened the ache from her back like a vice around her middle. It was brief, fleeting, but unmistakable.

Michael's head snapped up and back to capture her with his eyes, burning now in deep concern that was coloured with his anger toward the Lanteans.

They were the cause of this added danger to her now. But for their interference she would be settled and safe in the facility he had chosen for this, not fleeing from the midst of battle at such a time.

"Protect her. Protect the child," he ordered the hybrids who would pilot the Darts. Then he began to quickly climb aboard his ship.

…Michael…

She could not contain the sob as she mentally called out for him. She closed her eyes and tried to will her body into acquiescence, holding her arms tightly around herself.

…my son ~ my child, please wait…

"Teyla, look at me."

"Michael," she sobbed his name, but shook her head in refusal to follow his command. "My child… my baby is coming."

-Look at me- -at me- -me-

Under the press of his mind she raised her head and opened her eyes to fall into the almost luminous gold. He drew her deeper, surrounding her, possessing her.

-Trust me- -trust me- -trust-

She began to feel heavy, a deep lethargy covering her like a blanket and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. Events blurred. She barely felt the sharpness of the needle as he fixed an intravenous line into her forearm, nor the movement of his hands as he settled her properly into the flight seat and fastened the harness around her.

The nausea at the sudden rush of speed and light against the artificial gravity of the ship and the abrupt freefall into the darkness of space, lit only by the flash of battle around them, became a half remembered memory. Only the promise remained.

-I will protect you. No matter what, I will protect you both- -protect you both- -protect-

**

He could almost taste the anticipation as the Cascade Beam raced across the distance between his cruiser and that of the Abomination. He mentally counted the seconds until with an almost snarling hiss he watched the shields of the other cruiser flare brightly. Any moment they would collapse inward. The energy of the beam would feed back through the nodes that generated the shields and would disable them and the comm. array and would send a cascading overload throughout all the systems of the ship, destroying it from the inside out and there would be nothing to be done to prevent it.

Seconds passed and a frown, born of confusion, found its way to his face as his sensors failed, the chatter of Dart telemetry falling silent on the bridge. He grasped the controls, letting his mind fall into oneness with the cruiser's interface and ran a diagnostic program to try and find the cause of the failure. As the answer came to him the blood in his veins chilled and slowed.

"That's not possible," he said aloud, and abandoned his position to race to the forward viewing port. Even before he saw the leading edge of the approaching wave, he felt the cold touch of a thought inside his head that did not come from any one of his brothers.

-Did you think I would forget?-

Even if they moved now the wave would still strike them, and even a glancing blow would doom them to the same cascade of critical systems failure with which he had intended to destroy the Abomination's cruiser. In fact, he through wryly, the enhanced shields on his own ship would serve only to create a larger cascade and faster destruction. He set his steps quickly for the launch bay. He had to return to the Hive… and the Hive had to withdraw.

**

"Time?" Caldwell asked.

"We'll be in range in twenty seconds," the Con. Officer reported.

"Better hope the ship lasts that long," Sheppard said darkly. What had begun as elation had turned to worry when the explosions within Michael's cruiser started to become more evident. Eruptions of fire burst from parts of the ship to light up the surrounding space, blood red. "You still have a lock?"

"We still have a lock."

"Still just the one?"

"Just Lorne, Sir." the Con. Officer confirmed, "I'm sorry."

Sheppard shook his head, it wasn't all right, so he didn't pretend that it was, but if they could bring even one of their people back, it went some way to making something positive out of this whole sorry mess.

"A ship just launched from the Wraith cruiser, Sir," the gunner said.

"Ah, let it go," Sheppard said irritably, dismissive. "Probably just their commander bailing 'cause he knows his ship is sinking."

"Sir," the Con. Officer turned his head to Caldwell, "We're in range."

"Get him out of there," Caldwell ordered.

The answering column of white light resolved itself into the supine form of the Major. As soon as he was aboard, his body began jerking in distress, a terrible gurgling coming from his throat as though he was drowning.

"Get a medical team!" Sheppard all but threw himself at Lorne, Colonel Caldwell at his side, both of them doing what little he could to support him until the medics could reach him. He barely registered the rest of the frantic conversation on the bridge as the deck bucked beneath him.

"Sir, we just lost shields," the gunner announced. "Michael's ship is going critical."

"Get us the hell out of here," Caldwell snapped over his shoulder. "Recall the 302s. As soon as they're aboard, get us clear and make the jump to hyperspace. We're done."

They moved aside to let the ship's doctor get to Lorne, to lift him, still convulsing, onto the gurney and rush him to the infirmary. Sheppard watched the corridor long after his subordinate officer had disappeared, in good hands even while he was in bad shape. Behind him the main screen became awash with the yellows and reds, as first Michael's cruiser, still firing its last toward the nearby Wraith Hive ship, and then, as the shockwave reached it, the Wraith cruiser, disintegrated into flaming masses of semi-organic matter.

**

He veered away from his dying cruiser, first toward the planet's atmosphere, to use it to protect him from the shockwave. As close as he was, if it caught him, he would be incinerated, just like the rest of the Darts caught in battle near the cruisers. At least they'd managed to stop the Abomination's cruiser from reaching the Hive, but it was small comfort. All it meant was that he would have to face the Queen with yet another failure.

He was forced to pull up sharply as three ships cut across his path. Two Darts and a Scout ship screamed into view, and even as he pulled up, one of them rolled, starting to come about to face his ship.

"So you really mean to finish it," he purred, and quickly activated his own weapons, firing even before the other ship had finished its roll. "Then we shall…"

He banked aside as first one, and then the other ships, turned as well and returned fire. The Darts tried to pull up and get behind him. He too pulled back, firing again toward the three ships now closing again into formation, but the manoeuvre brought him dangerously close to the edge of the atmosphere, and into the path of the remnants of the shockwave from the explosion. It sent him spinning sideways, still firing as he spun.

For several moments he fought to bring his ship under control, expecting at any moment to hear the roar of another explosion, and then oblivion… but as his wild spinning slowed, a smile of satisfaction crossed his face. One of his wild shots had found its mark, and sent at least one of the ships spiralling down toward the planet. Of the other two, there was no sign… unless of course you counted the debris that floated almost lazily past his sensors.

He harrumphed softly to himself, a reminder not to become too complacent. Not for the first time had the Wraith believed themselves free of this particular individual. Then he turned once more, and dodging the remains of the battle, between the Lantean's and his Wraith brothers, headed back to his Hive.

**

Act 5

They'd barely taken the time to freshen up before they gathered in the briefing room. Taking stock was always difficult after a mission of this kind, but knowing how many they'd lost to the Wraith made it all so much worse.

"So you're saying the Wraith have some kind of new super-weapon," Sam sighed and leaned on her hand.

"They certainly have the technology," Radek answered, glancing at the empty seat beside him, "I'm still trying to analyse what little data we were able to gather."

"Look", Sheppard cut in, "we still don't know if they have it deployed in more than just the single ship. And that one's gone."

"What's your point, John?" Sam asked him.

"That we're worrying about the wrong thing. We know that Michael launched a number of ships before—"

"Sheppard," Caldwell cut him off. "Sooner or later, as painful as it is, we're going to have to face facts. They were prisoners and you don't put prisoners on board fighters you send into battle. You just don’t."

"What's your point, Colonel?" Sheppard snapped.

"They're gone." Caldwell said bitterly. "McKay, Vega… Teyla… and Lorne is barely hanging on." As if to soften the blow he added more gently, "The best we can say is that it was fast. That—"

The sound of the alarm cut him off and they all looked expectantly toward the control room as the technician called, "Unscheduled off-world activation."

He raced past the others to lean on the back of the technician's chair. His shoulder throbbed in protest, but Sheppard used the pain to focus. The others gathered. Ronon paced behind them as the minutes passed by with no signal.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

"Nothing." The technician shook his head. "No transmission, no IDC, just…" he shrugged, "Dead air."

"Just… lower the shield." Sheppard grimaced at the technician's choice of words. "If it's one of the others they might not be able to send and IDC," he argued urgently.

"And if it's the Wraith," Caldwell put in, "they may just be counting on that."

"But if it's one of our people…" Sheppard didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. He knew that the image of what would happen was firmly fixed in all their brains.

"John," Sam said softly, "The shield is there for a reason. If we—"

"Wait," the technician interrupted, "I'm receiving…"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well… I'm not sure." He pointed to a diagnostic computer that was still attached to the dialling controls. It has been there since before the mission to rescue Teyla began.

Sheppard frowned as he watched. The waveform that was monitoring the stability of the wormhole fluctuated and changed. It wasn't much, barely a hundredth of… whatever unit was represented by the strange symbol on the side of the graph, but it was still changing, and in a pattern that was repeated.

"Sam, you'd better take a look at this." He pulled her around to the computer screen, and she frowned as she looked.

"Whoever it is, is manipulating the subspace radiation emitted by the wormhole," she began after studying it for a while. "Point oh six, point oh four, point oh three…"

"Six, four, three…" Sheppard began to recite the numbers over and over again, "Six, four, three… Six, four, three… Six, four, three…"

"HGH6439T," he and Sam recited the password together in excitement after a moment.

"It's McKay," Sam went on urgently, "Lower the shield!"

Each of them hurried down the steps to the Gate room and barely seconds after the shield phased out of existence, Rodney McKay staggered from the wormhole.

"Oh thank God," he said, before his knees started to give out under him.

Sheppard caught him by the arm, meaning to hold him up. It seemed to rouse him.

"Ow, ow, ow," he moaned, "Gash there… ow!"

"Rodney, what happened?" Sam asked.

"What about Vega," Sheppard asked at the same time, "Teyla?"

"I don't know," McKay answered, pain and exhaustion colouring his voice. "There were ships, he… we…"

"Give the guy a break," Ronon cut it, but Rodney went on anyway.

"He put us on board ships, at least Vega and me. Teyla he…"

"What?" Sheppard asked frowning darkly.

"Well he kept her with him, but…"

"But what?" The frustration he felt at McKay's halting explanation of what Michael had done with Teyla made him harsher than he would ordinarily have been.

"But they were getting his ship ready too, so—"

"—so there's a good possibility that she's alive," Sheppard finished with a triumphant glare at Caldwell, as he metaphorically thumbed his nose at the man.

"Rodney, how did you get away?"

"I… Considering the Dart I was in was crashed nearby to where I came round, I can only assume that the beaming technology malfunctioned on impact. The pilot was dead, so…" McKay swayed, as if the mention of the hybrid soldier reminded him of his ordeal and it was all too much for him."

"McKay?" Ronon caught him.

"I think," he said in a strange and almost squeaky voice, "I'm just going to pass out now, all right?"

**

A scuffle by the doorway to the laboratory made him look up from watching the simulation he was running.

=You said your work would be easier with subjects on which to experiment=

The Queen strode in to his demesne, trailing her fingers over the many instruments and vials as she came. Behind her pairs of Warriors dragged between them three unconscious figures.

~Where did you find them?~

He lifted the head of one of the prisoners, staring with near revulsion at the almost human faces – the traces of Wraith ancillary features, and engorged veins, clear on their pallid skin.

=fascinating, isn't it?=

She ignored the question of where they came from, and began probing in his mind for his scientific opinion.

~they will be most helpful, I'm sure~

He too sidestepped the question. He was unwilling to disclose his true feelings and moved to another of the prisoners slumped between the warriors.

The Queen let out a small sound, almost a chuckle, amused, he knew, by his attempts to keep himself guarded. She thought he revealed himself in his reticence; that he revealed the same contempt that most of his Wraith brothers held for these creatures and he was content for her to believe that. Then he bristled when her thoughts shifted to examine his memory of what had happened on the cruiser, when he had been outsmarted by the Abomination.

He moved to the last of the prisoners she brought him and wound his hand almost angrily into the long dark hair, to pull back the head and study the hybrid subject as he had the others, but instead he frowned in confusion.

Hissing, alerted by his surprise, the Queen swung around to face him and stalked back to his side. She leaned down to grasp the prisoner's chin and tip her head still further back. She, as he had, peered at the face, turning it first one way, and then the other. She searched for any trace of the characteristic features of the hybrids, and finding none let out a long, slow breath that came out as a dangerous hiss, before she ran her fingertips over the unblemished face of the young human woman.

**

"Doctor Keller?" Sam called her name as she, along with Ronon and Colonel Sheppard entered the infirmary. "You wanted to see us."

"Sorry to call you so late," she said, straightening up from the electron microscope. It was well after three in the morning, Atlantis Standard time. "But this couldn't wait."

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

Jennifer watched in almost strange fascination as the frown spread from person to person, first Sam, then Ronon and finally Colonel Sheppard.

"Rodney?" she said by way of a non answer, "Are you sleeping?"

"Are you kidding?" he came right back at her, his voice as testy as ever, and she made a mental note to discharge him in the morning. "With you walking to and fro and your technicians prodding and poking at me every five minutes?"

"Nurses, McKay," Ronon said quietly, "They're called nurses."

"Whatever, look, the point is: I'm awake." He sat up and came over to join them. "So what is it?"

"It's Major Lorne," Jennifer said quietly, the smile she would have made at the banter between McKay and Ronon dying on her face.

Mistaking what she was about to say, Sam said softly, "I'm sure you did everything that you could Doctor."

"No, no, no," she said, "you don't understand."

She paused, having no idea how to say what she needed to tell them. She took several breaths and looked between each of them, almost as if she could will one of them to guess and save her the difficult task of breaking the news. When none did, she was forced to go on and make her report.

"Given the information I was sent from the medics on the Daedalus, I honestly didn't expect him to make it to us," she said quietly and let out a sigh. "He not only made it, but when he arrived his sats were incredible. He was dehydrated, sure, but there was no sign of the internal bleeding they reported, or the head injury or…" she stopped and said, "…well you get the point. No sign of anything, really, and certainly no reason for him to still be as deeply unconscious as he is."

"So what's the problem?" Sheppard asked, obviously confused.

"When his blood pressure spiked a couple of hours ago, I thought maybe some kind of infection, something we'd missed in the initial bloodwork. So I took another sample for comparison." She nodded to the microscope behind her.

"Oh, God no," Sheppard moaned, "Not more nanites?"

"No, Colonel," Keller answered. "Not more nanites. I wish it were?"

"What then?" McKay asked, and she could see that the colour was already draining from his face as though he knew what she was about to tell them.

"I had to pull the file to be sure," Keller said, "but I found a high concentration of a drug which bore a frighteningly uncanny similarity to Doctor Beckett's retrovirus in the Major's blood."

"What do you mean, similarity?" Ronon asked, frowning.

"I mean it's a drug that could have been based off the same research, though it's entirely more stable. It's Wraith in origin. So I looked deeper." She looked around at the Major and said softly, "Major Lorne has been exposed to Michael's retrovirus. His cells are mutating and have already been subsumed by a high concentration of Wraith DNA. For the last two hours I've been administering the strongest NRTI drugs we possess, but it's hardly slowing it. Without help…" she swallowed hard, watching the realisation dawn on them all, before she finished, "Lorne is going to become one of his hybrids."

Fin