Act 3

It wasn't the first time he had woken from unconsciousness or serious injury, but it was one of the most comfortable.

Senselessness gradually resolved itself into sound and sensation; the steady bleep of a monitor, a soft, heavy warmth over his chilled body. Through his closed eyelids he was aware of the brightness of lights.

He took in a huge breath and started to try and sit up.

"Easy, Ronon," a female voice close by his shoulder said quietly, and a hand pressed against him to stop him from moving. "You're safe."

"Teyla…" he said. His throat felt gravelly and slightly sore. "Michael, he—"

"Colonel Sheppard said he barely got you out in time." He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the confused face of Doctor Keller. "I'm sorry, if Teyla was still aboard…"

Her voice trailed off mid-apology.

The too familiar surroundings of the Atlantis infirmary faded a little as his memory overlaid the recall of the scout ship powering away from the Dart Bay.

"Michael took her," he said.

"Then at least she's still alive," Jennifer said firmly.

"What happened?" He stopped struggling with her, lying back with a sigh. "How long have I—"

"You were badly hurt. Sheppard said he had a hunch something had gone wrong. He went in to get you."

"And the ship?"

"Daedalus opened fire on the Hive. It was badly damaged, if not destroyed," Keller told him, "but you need to be resting and not worrying about that. I was about to change your dressings."

Ronon lunged forward, with his knife leading, meaning to drive the point of the blade deep into Michael's heart.

At first he thought that Michael had punched him in the gut, winded him badly, but then, as the white hot lance travelled from the middle of his belly into the deepest part of his brain, he knew it was more than that. He tasted blood in his mouth, and glancing down, saw that he had, in trying to reach Michael with his own knife, all but walked onto the Wraith-Human hybrid's blade.

"He stabbed me," he said, his eyes glazing in memory.

"Who?" Keller asked. She wheeled over a steel trolley, on which she had her medical equipment, and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves before she began to lift the hospital gown he was wearing away from his wounded stomach to remove the existing dressing.

"Michael," he spat the name as though it was poison and she glanced up at him from her careful examination of his, now uncovered, wound.

"Yeah, well, it was quite deep, but I've managed to fix the damage," she told him, and began to carefully press his belly and the area around the wound. As the pressure of her fingers settled lower on his body, closer to his groin, he tensed, breathing in deeply against the awareness of her hands touching him. The scent of her shampoo washed over him, triggering a memory, only adding to the awkward, uncomfortable feeling he suddenly experienced at her nearness.

She looked up at him again. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Well, maybe we could pass the time by getting to know each other better," Keller said as he realised that, with the doors locked down under the quarantine, they might well be there for a while.

Ronon narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious of what she could mean.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

She looked up at him and her eyes suddenly went wide. She must have seen his suspicions of her intended advances toward him, and seemed profoundly embarrassed in the realisation. Perhaps he was reading her all wrong. Perhaps he was reading himself wrong.

"Oh, I, I mean, I didn't… you know, I meant… just, like, talk," she stammered, and gave a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean…Yeah! So, anyway, um, let's talk!"

"What?" he asked, almost too quickly, then realising what she was asking, shook his head, "No, just… sensitive there."

She looked down at the position of her hand, and he saw her flush with the pinkness of understanding what he meant. She lifted her fingers away from where they were resting.

"Sorry, just…" she reached for the new dressing, ready to cover the wound again and then shrugged a little bit. "I was worried about bruising or other damage we might not have detected initially."

He shook his head, "It's all right, Jennifer. You're just being thorough."

He watched her as she nodded and gave him a faintly embarrassed smile, before bending to her work in tending to him. His own awkwardness, faded only slightly, flared again when, watching her so closely, he couldn't help but comparing her with Melena. It was not for the first time…

"You remind me of someone I used to know." he said, and the memory, still painful, made him take in a deep breath. "She put way too much pressure on herself."

Keller walked closer to him then, and asked softly, "Someone from Sateda?"

"Yeah." He daren't say much more, for fear of choking on any other answer he might have given.

"Who was she?" Keller asked softly.

…and for anyone that had known her, it was hard not to compare the way Melena had looked and acted, with the woman that was Jennifer Keller. There were subtle similarities in appearance, but it was mostly in their manner – and this had strengthened even more, particularly of late, in her attitude toward Woolsey and Varnerin – that she reminded him of Melena most strongly.

He sighed softly, and felt the familiar stirring of a deep, biting ache inside of him as he thought of Melena and who she had been to him. That he still felt this way; still felt the loss as freshly, sometimes, as though it had been only yesterday, only proved to him that he was not yet ready for that kind of relationship, and made him doubt that he would ever be. Melena had been his beating heart…

"She was someone I cared about," he answered her, clearing his throat awkwardly. "She was killed during the siege."

"I'm sorry," Keller said.

"Yeah. I wanted her to leave but she chose to stay behind and help the others." He gave a little cough again – another awkward attempt to shift the lump that had settled in the back of his throat. Terrible recrimination joined the blockage, threatening to choke him. As much to himself as to Keller, he said, "Should have forced her to go."

"It's not your fault," Keller told him softly as though she could read what was going through his mind. "She chose to stay. Don't put that blame on yourself."

…his soul – his salvation.

Now she was gone, irrevocably lost from all but his memory, as was the only other person that could ever have come close to saving him – though in an entirely different way. He had failed Teyla just as he had failed Melena.

He'd had the chance – several chances – to end the menace before it had even begun…

The mesmerising hiss that was coming from the Wraith as he pinned Teyla against the wall of the Wraith laboratory incensed Ronon. There was no hesitancy in his action. He pulled the trigger and the Wraith before Teyla jerked suddenly, and fell unconscious to the floor.

His concern for Teyla manifested itself in anger. "What the hell were you thinking, Teyla?" he snapped and grabbed the Wraith by the wrist, ready to move him away from his friend.

…in fact he couldn't count the number of times he'd had Michael on the business end of his blaster, including this last time.

"Should have killed him," he growled softly.

"What?" Keller asked, looking up. "Oh, you mean Michael?"

He nodded, and smiling softly, right into his eyes, she gave a bit of a chuckle. It left him breathless with the vulnerability inside of him, the doubt and the drawing ache that answered from that place that was still full of the loss of the life that once inhabited it.

"You always were a bit of an action hero," Keller said, and she gently straightened his clothing and covered him once more with the blanket.

"I just don’t like seeing my friends getting hurt," he answered, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion as he met Jennifer's eyes. He couldn't miss the flash of something more than professional concern that shone there.

"I had you wrong," he said, and when she looked up at him in query, he smiled. "When you first came here, I thought you were weak – that you didn't belong."

Had that been true, or just something he'd said to keep the conversation going between them. It wasn't his strong point, but he'd wanted to try. It had worried him that, in his attempt, he had hurt her – or so he'd thought at the time as she regaled him with the story of her life – of all the things she had missed. He'd wanted to comfort her.

As he looked into her eyes then, he thought he still saw the ghost of those failures she'd named in the tale of her life before coming to Atlantis and it spoke to him now, just as it had then…

"Yeah, well, blowing up that tank – you really showed yourself," he said.

She smiled at him and said, "But it didn't work."

"That's not the point," he told her, and in that moment it truly wasn't the point. In that moment he realised that, with Jennifer, there was the possibility that he could move on, move past the constant pain he felt.

Ronon moved closer and she laid her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her, and rested his head against hers, his face against her hair.

She looked up at him then, and slowly they moved toward each other. He felt the light touch of her breath against his lips in the instant before they met hers…

It wouldn't be fair – not to him and certainly not to Jennifer, and he did like her; did care about her – perhaps even for her, but until he had laid his own ghosts to rest, he would never, could never, be to anyone as he had been to his Melena.

He reached out and caught her hand just as she began to move away. He wanted to tell her, to make her understand everything that he realised; everything that he felt, because it also wasn't fair to her to keep her waiting, in hope, for something that might never happen.

"Jennifer," he started. "Listen, I—"

The wailing of the city's alarms preceded the sudden explosion that rocked the walls around them and sent debris flying into the infirmary.

Ignoring the pain, he pulled Keller closer, wrapped his arms around her and threw them both to the ground, covering her protectively with his body.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"How's he doing, Doc?" Sheppard asked as he ducked inside the private section of the field hospital in which Ronon was being treated.

Keller shook her head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, it's just the same as the others. Nothing I can do will wake him. He's still stuck in the same unnatural sleep, in some kind of intense dream state," she said and sighed. "I had held out a small sliver of hope that, because he's a native of this galaxy, he might have some kind of… resistance to some of this, but…"

Sheppard sighed and looked across the room to where McKay was studying the waveform, and imputing information into his computer tablet. McKay looked up at him in the same moment.

"There's no doubt about it, Sheppard," he said in an urgent voice, "whatever is affecting Ronon and the others definitely originates from some kind of Wraith source." He held up his hand to stop Sheppard from interrupting, as he had opened his mouth to do. "I believe you. I believe you. They're nowhere around, but… what I'm saying is that the device that's sending this signal is of Wraith manufacture and design."

"Well then we just triangulate the signal, find the device and deactivate it," Sheppard said.

"Not as easy as that," McKay said, shaking his head.

"Yes it is," Sheppard argued. He pursed his lips, irritated that even when they were on worlds without a Wraith presence, the wretched creatures dogged their every advance. He continued, his voice growling in anger, "C4 will turn it off if you can't."

"If you do that, Colonel," Keller said, a look of deep concern on her face, "there will be nothing we can do that will save these men."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking between the doctor and the scientist.

"By now, these men have become dependent on the presence of the signal in that carrier wave to stimulate the continuation of their brain activity," McKay offered.

"Dependent?" Sheppard said, "How? Why?"

"As far as I've been able to tell," Keller said, "being hit by one of those weapons you brought back with you causes a massive misfiring of the synapses. This overloads certain, usually dormant, portions of the brain which then just… inhibit the brain's natural ability to regulate its own electrical activity."

"As far as you've been able to tell?" Sheppard said with a raised eyebrow. It sounded like that was a pretty specific diagnosis to him.

"My guess is," McKay said, "if we—" He stopped and Sheppard noticed the look that Keller shot McKay, before he started again. "If Jennifer were able to take an EEG of Wraith neural activity, I suspect she'd find a high degree of activity in the corresponding areas of their brains."

"Actually, records of Teyla's brain activity, taken by Doctor Beckett, during the times she was attempting to use her gift to contact the Wraith on the Hive, after Carson first discovered her Wraith DNA, show this quite definitively," Keller confirmed.

"So what are you saying?" Sheppard asked. "How are we supposed to wake these men?"

"We need to find a way to reverse the signal causing the overload and return those areas of the brain to a dormant state," McKay said.

"That way," Keller added, "their own brain activity will reassert itself, and the men will be able to wake."

"You think," Sheppard said.

"No." Keller shook her head, sounding sure of herself. "I'm certain."

After a moment, Sheppard nodded. "All right. How do we do this?"

"Until I see the device," McKay said, "I won't know."

"Then we better find this thing," Sheppard said, and looking over at Ronon, he added, "and fast."

**

"You're sure?" Sheppard asked as McKay returned from scanning for the device.

"No," McKay answered sarcastically, "that's why I've just spent the last ten minutes explaining to you the complexities of finding such a device in a planet as riddled with subterranean caves as this one." With a withering look in Sheppard's direction he added in clipped tones, "Of course I'm sure!"

"Well, that could be a problem," Sheppard said with exaggerated patience. "Because according to the geophys survey the engineers took from a higher orbit once you started talking 'subterranean' structures, the most viable entrance to that particular cave system is bang in the middle of our friends' settlement."

He stabbed his finger onto a point on the hastily constructed map, and then, when McKay leaned down to look, stood back and folded his arms, waiting for the implications of that to filter into McKay's mind.

"Ah," McKay said. Evidently it had. "I don't suppose these people are likely to let us just… walk through and—"

Sheppard shook his head.

"Didn't think so," McKay said. "Which leave us with—" Sheppard unfolded his arms, ready to discuss another tactical assault against the native settlement. A cry from outside the Jumper in which he'd erected his command post cut him off.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Lieutenant Edgecombe came into view outside the rear hatch of the Jumper. "Colonel, you need to see this."

The lieutenant gestured further out into the area occupied by their field hospital. Frowning, he moved to join the marine, with McKay at his side.

"What—" he started to ask, but stopped as he saw a group of perhaps twenty of the local inhabitants, including Atterna Rowf, approaching the defensive perimeter. They held their arms to the sides, open and empty.

Rowf evidently spotted him and bringing the rest of her group to a halt, called out, "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, my people and I come in the spirit of fostering communications between our two peoples. We are unarmed and wish only to talk."

"This is new," he said, a quiet aside to McKay. Stepping forward he peered more closely at the would-be ambassadors. The group was made up of men and women, both relatively young and older, and as their leader had said, at least as far as he could tell, they were indeed unarmed. "That's one hell of a turn-around from the first time our peoples met," he called out.

Atterna Rowf took a step away from her group, toward the armed marines guarding the perimeter, and gave Sheppard a wry smile.

"We have since seen the error of our ways," she said in a quiet voice that none the less carried across the space between them.

"I'll bet you have," Sheppard murmured, but called out to the woman, "Peace talks – that's what you want?"

"My people are vulnerable here," she told him. "It is why we made our attack, in defence of ourselves before you could prove yourself the stronger. We seek help; protection… and I am certain there are things which we can offer in trade for such a relationship."

He sighed. He couldn't afford to take her words at face value, even if they did make a lot of sense to him, and it was true that they had offered very little resistance that could not have been explained away by fear of greater forces, when he had led the assault to retrieve Ronon.

He felt McKay move behind him, stepping closer, and he half turned his head to acknowledge the scientist's desire to speak.

"Much as I hate to say it, we should probably contact Woolsey before you make any decision about this," he said. "You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I was just thinking—" he said, but stopped as Rodney tapped his arm with something. Looking down he saw that McKay was holding out the control crystal from the Gate's DHD. It had been removed when they established the field hospital, to disable the Gate and prevent any unwelcome surprises.

"It might make getting at that device easier," McKay said.

Again Sheppard nodded. It made sense. "All right," he said, "but in the meantime, go over the results of the geophysical survey with the engineers – see if you can find another way in – just in case this all falls apart."

"Right," McKay said, and after handing over the crystal, hurried away, presumably to do as suggested. Sheppard turned his attention back to the woman who still stood, patiently waiting, and fearless in spite of the weapons pointed in her direction.

"I'll need to contact the rest of my people," he said, refusing to acknowledge Woolsey as his superior, "let them know of your proposal – discuss it with them."

"We are a patient people," she answered with a nod. "We will wait."

"All right," he started to turn away.

"In the meantime," she called, halting his movement, "may I ask a boon?"

He turned back to her, waiting to see what she would ask. When she didn't immediately speak, he prompted, "I'm listening."

"My people and I have walked long and hard to reach you. Many of us have depleted our supplies of water on the journey," she said.

"Lieutenant Edgecombe," he called, not waiting for her to actually ask. He saw little harm in showing them basic human compassion, especially as he knew they had more than enough to spare. Edgecombe saluted as he reached his side. "See to it that these people are given basic provisions – water, field rations, and provide them with blankets. Have one of the medics go over with you; see if there's anything else they might need."

He saw Rowf nod, and knew he had made his mark even before she spoke. "You are generous, Lieu—"

"Sheppard," he told her, realising she could not distinguish between which was his rank, and which his name. "My name is Sheppard."

"Thank you… Sheppard," she said with a smile, before she returned to her people, freeing him to take a defensive team to the Gate with him, to contact Woolsey.

**

The musky oils were beginning to make Vega's head ache, but she continued to work her fingers over the arm and shoulder of the Queen, as Hanna did on her other side. The Queen was virtually purring with the pleasure they were giving her.

Vega's mind was a whirl of questions and fears. She felt more and more insecure and confused with every development; every interaction she shared with Todd only adding to the slightly insane feeling with which her confusion left her.

She twisted out of his grasp and walked away from him, stopping in the middle of the laboratory to catch her breath, try to compose herself again. He followed her. The warmth of his hands came down on her shoulders, and she couldn't help but shiver as he called her name into the awkward silence her actions had placed between them.

"Alicia—"

"It's all right," she said. "I know she did something to you, and you weren't yourself."

She wondered if she had been herself either. Grabbing him by the chin and kissing him had been the last thing she ever would have done. Even under such circumstances, she couldn't believe herself; had woken suddenly that morning, panicked from the memory of it… what must he have thought? What had she been thinking?

"Something troubles you?"

She jumped as the Queen tapped the back of her hand. She had, in her thinking, stopped massaging the oil into her mistress' skin. Her heart lurched and she felt suddenly nauseous in the fear that the Queen might already have overheard her thoughts.

"My… demonstration was of the danger the Queen poses to you. How she can take the very thoughts from your mind…"

Michael's words echoed through her memory, but try as she might, she could not stop herself from worrying over the things the Queen might have seen and felt from her… the warm, firm press of his lips, resistant in his surprise, against her own… and the strangeness of it… and of realising under different circumstances… She took a breath…

"…I spent too long in her presence," Todd said softly as he gathered fresh clothing from the room to which he led Vega. "I must bathe to be free of the stench of her need…" He let out a rumbling growl, and started to reach for the fastening of his leather pants…

She felt the Queen beginning to push at her mind, but, in the same moment, saw out of the corner of her eye that the Hive Commander was approaching the chamber. She finally answered the Queen's query.

"Nothing, my Queen, only…" she gestured slightly toward the door, "…I see your Commander approaching."

"My Queen!" He did not wait for her to acknowledge him, and as the press of the Queen's mind lessened from hers, Vega felt the echoing flush of her irritation at his audacity.

"Your reason for interrupting my peace and ministrations at the hands of my maidens had better be a good one, my Commander," she growled, and waved Vega and Hanna away so that she could rise.

"I have information concerning the Subordinate-Hive," he told her, and in a display of pure arrogance, got to his feet even before the Queen had reached him. "We have traced their transmission to a small world, well outside of any culling grounds."

The Queen's anger at his disturbance was halted in its tracks by the news, and as she retreated to her place at the side of the chamber, Vega thought she caught a flash of conceited pride in his eyes.

"You have investigated this world?" the Queen asked, pressing herself almost coquettishly close to him.

"The world possesses a Ring," he told her, "but—"

The Queen's head snapped up to regard him in returning anger at the words.

"But?" she demanded. "You dare—"

"My Queen," he said hurriedly, "naturally I sent a scout ship to investigate, however, when the pilot reached the nearest world on which there is a Ring to enable him to travel there, it would not activate. It appears that there is something blocking access to the Ring on the world in question."

The Queen's eyes narrowed, her manner once more changing, this time to one of concern. She began to pace away from him, her hands clawing the air at her sides as she was quite obviously thinking; running the information through her mind.

"How much longer before the Hive is able to re-enter hyperspace?" she demanded.

"Not very long, my Queen. It is why I brought the matter to your attention," he said. "I felt certain that, given this development, you might wish to investigate the matter… personally."

She rounded on the Hive Commander. "You presume much," she snapped, and then softening, added, "however, on this occasion, your instinct was correct. As soon as the Hive is recovered, set its course to take me to this world."

=I will discover what this queen intends= =queen intends= =intends=

Vega felt her head would explode as the Queen's angry thought rang clearly through the chamber. For his part, the Hive Commander gave a swift bow, and beat a hasty retreat.

"Attend me!" the Queen demanded, practically storming toward the door behind her throne, and both Hanna and Vega hurried to comply.

**

Todd growled softly and moved along the line of alcoves that were now inhabited by the cowering humans he had brought back from his recent foray to a world, the location of which he had… persuaded The Renegade to reveal to him. He almost smiled, looking on his prize for a most… satisfying contest.

As soon as The Renegade woke he began to struggle against the restraints.

Todd stood back, well out of The Renegade's current line of sight, looking down on the creature that was left in the wake of the effects of his serum. Caught part-way between Human, Wraith and their ancestral progenitor, he was a sorry sight indeed. Still, with repeated applications of the serum, it might be possible to reduce the undesirable appearance.

For that, however, this pathetic creature would need the strength to survive the searing agony Todd was sure the changes wrought… and to ensure that, The Renegade would need to feed… unless…

Todd tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at his own thought. Was he prepared to go to such lengths for this Queen's agenda? On the other hand, if The Renegade died, and she discovered that it was through omission of his own care for the one that had once been a worthy adversary, he doubted that he would survive such a moment.

With a slight growling sigh, he stepped forward, making his presence known.

"Release me!" The Renegade cried in anger, turning his head to snarl in Todd's direction.

"It is for your own good that you are restrained; your own safety," he answered as calmly as he could, in fact trying to make his voice sound… compassionate. "It is not by my choice."

"I will kill you for this!" The Renegade snarled.

"I do not think so," Todd answered, leaning over him, to look into his eyes. "We are not finished yet."

The Renegade snarled again, redoubling his efforts to free himself, like some kind of rabid animal, Todd mused. He could almost feel the terrible fever streaming off The Renegade. As if reading his thoughts, though Todd knew he was not, The Renegade cried out in his agony.

"It burns!"

"How soon you forget," Todd crooned, and tilted his head slightly. "It need not. If only you would do as you must…" His last two words were an angry roar into The Renegade's face, and accompanied by a crushing press against the intense distress he knew was burning inside the creature's mind. "…and feed."

~feed~ ~feed~ ~feed~

"No." Desperation entered The Renegade's movements, and through teeth gritted against the pain he growled, "I will not."

"Then, since the Queen has charged me with the responsibility for your care, you leave me no choice," Todd said, and moved his feeding hand from where he was leaning against it; leaning over The Renegade, to press it to the creature's chest.

"Don't." The Renegade struggled beneath his touch. Anger, agony and panic combined in his repeated cry. "DON'T!"

As Todd took a breath, preparing himself mentally as well as physically, a powerful blow struck his partially locked elbow, and sent him reeling away from the table. Something warm splashed against his cheek, and as he fought to regain his balance, he wiped at it with his hand. It came away, stained with splashes of blood.

He turned in disbelief to see The Renegade slap his hand against the release switch on the head of the table, and roll out of the restraints to try and find his feet, completely ignoring the blood that wept from the gash in his wrist where he had forced it free of the restraint.

"Impressive," Todd breathed, then taunted him, spreading his hands to either side, inviting attack as The Renegade hissed at him. After only a moment's hesitation, the creature pushed himself away from the table, fury plainly written over his face.

Todd stood his ground, watching curiously, ready to move in an instant if he had to, and when, at the second step, The Renegade's deformed leg gave way beneath him, and unbalanced him to send him spilling toward the ground, Todd caught him, and lowered him almost gently.

"But not enough," he said, returning his hand to its position against The Renegade's chest. There he paused and fixed him with a steady look. "I need to know how you did it; where you found your solution."

The Renegade's nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession under Todd's hand.

"…can't…" he gasped.

"I think you can," Todd said. "Otherwise I will have no choice but to give you the strength you need… to take the treatment again."

"No," he whispered.

"Then tell me."

The Renegade closed his eyes, and breathed out a soft, resigned sigh, before he said, "Eighteen, zero-five, forty-eight – negative thirty, twenty-five, twenty-six."

"Spatial Coordinates – very good," Todd said and climbing to his feet he gestured to the two drones waiting by the door. They crossed the room to take The Renegade by the arms and began to half carry, half drag him toward one of the alcoves. Todd found it highly ironic that the Queen should choose for The Renegade to be held prisoner in what was once his own laboratory.

"You never intended—" The Renegade gasped, breathlessness cutting him off.

"No," Todd answered simply. Then, when The Renegade did not offer more, he said, "You clearly wish to cling to some…pointless principle and starve yourself – and for what?"

The Renegade did not answer, save to fix him with a most baleful stare that would have withered lesser Wraith. The answer suddenly came to Todd as if someone had clearly spoken it to him.

"Ah – of course, your precious… Teyla." He drew out her name as a growl, as if rolling it around on his tongue; tasting it. He knew he was right when The Renegade's stare turned to scarlet fury in his eyes and he began to struggle in the grasp of the drones. Fixing his face into an expression of regret, Todd said, "You need not concern yourself with her." Before he turned away, he saw The Renegade's muscles tense; the look of desolation and panic that came over him. Beginning to walk toward the door of the laboratory, Todd added, "Not any more."

"What do you mean?" The Renegade cried out after him as Todd moved further away. "What have you done to her!"

As he left the laboratory, Todd felt his own appellation called after him in a mental contact born of pure anguish. He smiled.

**

"Woolsey," Sheppard said, hurrying to keep up with the man, "I really don't think this is a good idea. You're the one who's always trying to shove the rule book down my throat. You're the base commander. You should stay on the base. I can handle these negotiations."

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey stopped walking so quickly that Sheppard had to walk back a few steps to continue the conversation. "When it comes to subtlety, you have about as much aptitude as a house brick."

"Oh, and you've got more, I suppose," Sheppard snapped. "One word: Teyla."

"Might I remind you, Colonel, that it wasn't my actions that finally led to her leave Atlantis," Woolsey said. "Rather it was your decision to keep from her the truth about the paternity of her son."

"My decision?" Sheppard said.

How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know that it's me she calls for in the dead of night; me she reaches for when she's in need…

He growled and poked a finger into the centre of Woolsey's chest. "I suppose you would have just subtly dropped into conversation that, more than likely, the man she loved and thought of as her baby's daddy was actually a stooge, and the real father was some loathsome psychopath that's been stalking her ever since—"

"Sheppard!" Woolsey called his name sharply, breaking his verbal stride. "Teyla is not the issue here. The inhabitants of this world who claim to need our help are."

"Look… Around you, Mister Woolsey." Sheppard fumed at being cut off like that. He looked around the small encampment set up on bare grassland at the foot of a rocky scree. Scant few large, green canvass tents lined the edge of the grass closest to the scree and defensive posts had been hastily erected, barely metres away, from sandbags and empty equipment containers. "It's a field base. Barely defensible, you'll be vulnerable, you—"

"I have every faith in your ability to protect the operations' centre, Colonel. It's your job and it's something you do remarkably well," Woolsey said, adding a moment later, "considering. You do your job and leave me to do the job I have been trained for, and negotiate with these people."

Woolsey walked onward to where the small band of natives still sat in the shadow of the machine gun posts.

"Damn… stubborn man," Sheppard grumbled under his breath.

After a few steps, Woolsey stopped and turned around. "Shall we?" he suggested.

**

**

"I'm not comfortable with it, is all I'm saying." Sheppard punctuated his sentence by placing his hand firmly on top of the table in the command tent around which he and McKay were gathered with Woolsey, Keller and Captain Warsh.

"What in particular is it that makes you uncomfortable?" Woolsey asked. "It seems straightforward to me. These people need food and medicine – they offer us the chance to look over the technology left to them by their ancestors, and further and free entry into the caves housing the device."

"Their ancestors were Wraith worshippers," Sheppard said.

"Yes, but these people aren't." Woolsey said. "The Hive their ancestors served was wiped out generations ago."

"How do you know they're not lying, sir?" Warsh asked more calmly than Sheppard had been about to do so.

"Doctor Keller?" Woolsey invited Jennifer to answer the question for him.

"I've examined these people, Colonel, and there isn't a trace of the Wraith enzyme in their systems that would be present if they had been exposed to the feeding-reverse feeding process," she said.

"A handful of people," Sheppard argued, "probably carefully chosen to make up this negotiation party for that very reason, because they knew you'd test them."

He sighed in frustration. He didn't understand why Woolsey, of all people, was suddenly being so incautious; so free with aid, when not so long ago he had all but shut off Atlantis from the rest of the Pegasus galaxy. It didn't make sense to him. Maybe McKay was right all along – maybe the device here did mess with your head even if you hadn't been hit by one of the stunners. He couldn't help looking over at McKay.

"Don't look at me," the scientist protested. "If Jennifer says they're clean, that's good enough for me. Besides, geophys was unable to help with locating another entrance to the cave system within any reasonable distance. If we want to maintain access to that device – and let me tell you that we do… need to, I mean – then we have to take these people up on their offer."

"Convenient," Sheppard said.

"I must say, Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said, sitting back in his chair, "this is somewhat of a turn up for the books. Not so long ago you would have argued yourself blue in the face to help these kinds of people."

"And you would have argued against it," Sheppard answered, "which is my second point of dissention in all of this."

"What, just because I think it's a good idea, you don't?" Woolsey accused.

"What?" Sheppard couldn't believe what he was hearing, "No, don't be ridiculous. You have spent months trying to persuade me that our priority should be defending Atlantis, not running off to help every needy Pegasus native, and yet, here you are – complete turnaround, and—"

"But this does help to defend Atlantis, Colonel," Woolsey said. "Any knowledge we can gain of Wraith technology helps Atlantis in the event that the Wraith ever find our new location."

Sheppard had to admit that he had a point. "True," he said, "but—"

"And to get it from people like these, peacefully, where we're not under fire, or in danger from Wraith attack," Woolsey pressed home his point, "isn't that a bonus?"

Sheppard sighed. "For now, let's just say that I'll… cautiously agree."

"So," Woolsey nodded, "Where does that leave us? Doctor McKay?"

"Hmm?" McKay blinked and looked around the table.

"The device?" Sheppard asked.

"Ah, yes," McKay began, "well, there's good news and… and there's bad news."

"Again with the, why does nothing ever go according to plan?" Sheppard breathed.

"Rodney?" Keller asked, sitting forward in her seat, concerned.

"The good news is that I was right," McKay said.

"That's the good news?" Sheppard murmured dryly, returning the sour, sarcastic look that McKay gave him.

"Very funny," McKay said on the end of the look. "I found the device, and it would appear that there are a number of settings on the indicator panel – one of which, I'm sure, from my knowledge of Wraith ideograms, will provide us with the wake up call our people need."

"And the bad news?" Warsh asked, taking the words out of Sheppard's mouth.

"Ah, there you see, that's where it gets a little complicated," McKay admitted. "See… unlike the previous device on M1B-129, this one has no… external controls. It's like some of the more sensitive systems on board a Hive, whereby—"

"You mean you have to be a Wraith to operate it." Sheppard stated, cutting McKay off.

"In short," Rodney said, looking crestfallen. "Mostly, yes."

"Mostly?" Woolsey asked.

"Well it's possible that if I can get one of the tablets to talk to the neural interface somehow that I can rig up a workaround, but—"

"Then it should be no problem," Keller said, "I know you've done it before, on the Hive ship you took from Michael's people, and the other, after the battle with the replicators, and—"

"It's not quite that simple," McKay said with a sigh. "Yes, in theory I could patch up an interface… but as before, with the Hive ship, getting it to answer to our commands is… hit and miss at best. I might well trigger something that will kill Ronon and the others, rather than wake them up. If I knew which of the bio-synthetic pathways did what it would be easier but—"

"Right," Sheppard said, standing up so suddenly that his chair fell back against the floor. "I think it's pretty clear that we need some inside help here."

Woolsey frowned at him. "What are you suggesting? That we just… contact the nearest Hive ship and ask the Wraith to play ball?"

"After a fashion," he said.

"Todd," McKay said sourly.

"He might think he doesn't owe me any favours, and that we're even, but—"

"Isn't that dangerous?" Woolsey asked, still frowning. "What if another Wraith intercepts your communication, or, for goodness sake, he is a Wraith. What if Todd betrays you?"

"He wouldn't do that," Sheppard said. "Besides, like I said. He still owes me, and – you can jump in any time Rodney – from what I can tell, this is our only chance to deactivate that thing."

"I hate to say it," McKay admitted, "but I think it's probably our best shot."

Woolsey sighed, "All right," he said eventually, "but in the meantime, we maintain negotiations and good relations with these people, and you, Doctor McKay, continue your study of the device… just in case. I don't like having to rely on a Wraith for anything."

"Neither do I," Sheppard said, "But in this case, we have no choice."

**

Rodney circled the cylindrical device that hung suspended between the floor and ceiling of the cave, watching as the organic luminescence travelled from one point on the apparatus to another. He tried not to listen to the whispering echoes that seemed to seep from the walls, startling him with sudden drips and clicks and rustles. Nervous, he decided, was not a strong enough word to describe his current state of mind.

Taking a deep breath he returned to the ledge that held his computer tablet, and looked down at the percentage indicator on the display. Still thirty-five percent remained of the scan for the correct frequency that would allow the two 'computers' to communicate, and nothing to do except to resume his circling the Dream Generator.

He nodded, self-satisfied. Sheppard wasn't the only one who could name things, and Dream Generator was as good a name as anything for this device. Then again, the longer he thought about it, the more mundane he thought it was, and then he decided that it wasn't suitable at all.

"Alpha, beta, theta, delta…." he started reciting wave-names under his breath, which led to, "Brain Wave Alteration Device, no, Apparatus, no… um… Neural… Neural Wave Generator. Neural Wave Generator – Yes!"

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

McKay let out a small cry, and jumped at least a foot off the ground, turning to face the shadows from which the voice had come. The shadows moved, and resolved themselves into the tower of ugliness that was Professor Varnerin.

He began to demand what the psychologist was doing there, and how long he had been hiding in the shadows, but the revelation of the man had been so sudden, and had so upset his equilibrium that it came out somewhat skewed.

"What the hell long have you been doing?" he said.

"Excuse me?" Varnerin looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"There!" McKay demanded, pointing back into the shadows. "How long have you been there? And what the hell are you doing, sneaking up on a man in a place like this. You could have given me a heart attack."

"Hardly, Doctor McKay," Varnerin answered, moving closer to inspect the apparatus. "It is fascinating, though, don't you think?"

"What? Oh, the Neural Wave Generator, yes, quite," McKay said.

"Neural Wave Generator?" Varnerin queried.

McKay nodded toward the machine again, and as the professor stretched out his hand toward the device, he said, "It's also potentially deadly, so until we find a way to safely interface with it, I think keeping our hands to ourselves is probably the wisest thing to d—"

The steady sequence of bioluminescent ripples on the Neural Wave Generator gave a little hiccup with an accompanying bleep before returning to its regular pattern.

"What did you do?" McKay asked urgently, rushing back over to his computer.

"Do?" Varnerin asked, frowning.

"Yes, do… what did you do? What did you touch?" McKay repeated.

"Nothing," the professor said indignantly. "I touched nothing."

"Yes, well it's never done that before, and I've been here for… for hours," McKay said, realising he didn't actually know how long he'd been here exactly, but it had been a long time. He reached up to key his headset mic. "Sheppard, this is McKay."

He received only static in response.

"I believe you'll find that will not work here," Varnerin said, annoying McKay still further by stating something so obvious.

"Right," he snapped, and snatched up his tablet. "That's it… out."

"I beg your pardon," Varnerin blinked at him.

"Out," McKay repeated, pointing at the exit. "Visiting hours to the Museum of Advanced Wraith Technology are over… especially to idiots who don't know any better than to keep their hands to themselves."

With righteous indignation fuelling his anger, he pushed Varnerin toward the doorway, and quickly followed him, taking a glance back at the, now quiescent, Neural Wave Generator just before he stepped into the tunnel.

**

**

Even with the lights dimmed in her chamber the Lesser Queen's limbs and head ached with the barely muted fire of not having fed properly for far too long. Quietly she rumbled audible curses against the Elder Queen who had forbidden it, as a punishment for the treachery she had perceived. The Lesser Queen could not help but chuckle a little. If only the Elder knew the truth of it…

"My Queen…" her Commander appeared at her side. He startled her a little. Her mind had been… elsewhere. She narrowed her eyes at the expression on his face, part way between worry and fear.

"Speak," she commanded him imperiously.

"Our Hive has received a subspace warning from the device." She sat up straighter as he continued in earnest, worried tones. "We have scanned for the other Hives, and barely moments ago the Elder's Hive made a sudden jump to hyperspace. We fear—"

"Fool," she cried, pushing him aside. "We should already be en-route to intercept her. We cannot allow her to learn the truth!"

"You mean to—" he asked almost fearfully.

"I mean to finish this charade," she roared at him, advancing on him slowly. Rather than back up, he lowered himself to his knees.

"You sent for me, My Queen?" The softly confident voice of the Hive's Second-in-Command disturbed the near silence of the room. She did not answer him.

The Lesser Queen slowly unfastened the leather of her Commander's coat, ran her fingers almost seductively over the naked flesh beneath. His breathing quickened.

"My Queen," he whispered. He had a look of complete submission on his face.

She growled, and suddenly thrust her hand hard against his chest. Then she threw back her head, and exalted in her feeding. Not until her former Commander was little more than a dry husk did she turn her head to regard the new Hive Commander.

"Set us on an intercept course with the Elder's Hive. Let us teach her not to interfere where she is not welcome," she said.

"As you wish, My Queen," he answered, and she did not miss the glance he gave to his predecessor as he excused himself from her presence.

**

**

Vega tried to banish the terrible feeling of déjà-vu that she had as she paced back and forth across the laboratory floor. She glanced toward the side door, standing open as it was, that she now knew led into his personal quarters – a bedroom and a room in which to bathe – and then at the cot he kept at in the corner of the lab. She shook her head. She didn't at all understand why he didn't use the other room. Of course she'd never actually seen him sleep – not for rest anyway. The only time she'd known him use the cot at all was after he had almost been blown to dust in the explosion aboard the Hive. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she remembered it. She'd been terrified for him. How could he have gotten so far under her skin?

"I was told I would find you here." At the sound of the Hive Commander's voice, and the accompanying, sibilant hiss of the closing door, her blood drained into the pit of terror that suddenly opened up inside of her. She heard a buzzing in her ears, and a faint, sickly feeling came over her.

Pretending she had not heard him, and stating the obvious, she answered, "He is not here, Commander."

He started to cross the room toward her, and she tried to circle behind the workbench, to keep something between them.

"I am not in the habit of playing games of 'cat and mouse,' woman," he growled. "You will submit."

Vega looked around the room, frantically searching for a way to avoid the Hive Commander. If she retreated into the bedroom, now behind her, she would be trapped and vulnerable, with nowhere left to go. And yet, she was just as trapped in the laboratory. He had closed the door.

He started to come around the workbench that stood between them, and in defiance of him, in fear for her life, she circled the other way, putting the length of it between them. A weapon then – something with which she could defend herself – and instead of looking for a way out, she started looking for something that would serve her purpose.

Quickly she snatched up a scalpel that was lying on top of a metal tray, and as she circled further around the bench, putting the closed alcoves behind her, she held it up between them, as fiercely as she could.

The Hive Commander paused for a moment, before he put back his head and let out a chilling laugh.

"So you wish to make a sport of it," he said, and in the next moment took his own knife from its sheath and tossed it to the floor by her feet. "At least let me make it worth my effort."

Never one to refuse whatever assistance was offered, she carefully crouched and took up the heavy, barbed knife. As she stood once more, rather than consign the scalpel to uselessness, she flung it toward his head. As she thought he would, he simply batted the projectile aside.

She had not counted on him simply vaulting the bench however, and in the next moment found herself backpedalling rapidly, and wildly swinging her newly acquired weapon between them to try and keep him back. She might just as well have been waving a feather at him.

With an upward sweep of one powerful arm, perfectly timed, he was able to grab her flailing wrist in his hand. With the other, he lashed out and grabbed her just beneath her jaw, lifting her feet from the floor. He continued his forward momentum until the door of one of the alcoves knocked all the air from her lungs. The impact jarred the knife from her hands.

"Arrogant Human," he rumbled as he stepped really close, pressing his face almost against hers. She squeezed her eyes closed and turned her face aside, a small shrill whimper escaping from her clenched teeth. "Better than you have tried."

She attempted to kick her legs against him, but he stepped in closer, using his immense form to pin her in place, then, releasing her wrist, and ignoring the way she immediately began to beat against his shoulders, ran the back of his scalding hand down over her cheek, and neck, rumbling slightly as he did. The metalwork, intricate, twisting finger armour scraped sharply against her.

"I can… perhaps see the appeal," he hissed, leaning closer, "in his disloyalty."

She whimpered again and tried to turn her head further aside. "Commander, truly…" she tried to say, but the words seemed pulled back inside by her terror.

"You reek of fear," he rumbled against the skin of her cheek as he breathed in deeply, smelling her. "Good then… let us end this game…"

He pulled her suddenly away from the wall, almost tucking her under his arm to take the few steps to reach the cot. She cried out at the sudden jarring in her back as he threw her against it, and descended over her, pinning her in place beneath him. Her struggles became frantic as her own deepest fear overwhelmed even the thought of what the Hive Commander so obviously intended.

"Let me go! Let me go!" she chanted, becoming more breathless with each desperate cry.

"You will tell me what I wish to know or I—"

His weight suddenly lifted away from her upper body and she wriggled frenetically to free her legs from beneath what remained of it, to curl around herself in the corner beside the wall, the pillow trapped beneath her. From somewhere she registered the deadly, chilling rumble of Todd's voice.

"If you truly wish to challenge me, then challenge me."

She peeked up through her lashes to see Todd, one foot braced against the top of the cot, with the Commander's throat exposed to the press of the knife Todd held. He had the Commander's long hair wound around the hand that was not holding the knife, and had pulled him backwards over his raised knee.

"Otherwise," Todd growled, "Leave. Her. Alone."

The temperature in the room dropped perceptibly as the two Wraith glared at each other. It just made her curl up even more tightly, hardly daring to imagine what would happen next.

"There… is no challenge," The Hive Commander said slowly. "Impertinent woman brandished a weapon against me."

"Indeed," Todd breathed, and removing the knife from where he pressed it against the Commander's throat, grabbed the shoulder of his coat and, turning, practically threw him toward the now open door. "Perhaps you have become too accustomed to the simpering obedience of your own concubine." He did not give him a chance to answer, cocking his head a little, he added, "Now… unless you have business with me…?"

The Hive Commander glared at him one more time before he turned on his heels and stormed away. Todd followed some little way, to close and lock the door behind him. When he returned, and lowered himself to sit on the side of the cot, she all but threw herself against him, trembling as though freezing.

"Alicia," he drew out the soft growl of her name, and held her; steadied her against his chest as the sobs began. "Be at peace… you are safe…"

"He… pi—" she tried, "pi—"

She could not speak for the sobs. Todd let out a gentle rumble as he pressed his cheek to hers. The sound rolled over her and she found it strangely comforting. Her breathing slowed and gradually the shuddering ceased. For the first time she found herself registering his unique scent, a warm, musky cinnamon, with earthy undertones. The awareness of it wrapped around her, nipping at her centre.

She tried to look up at him, but could see only the profile of his chin, the hairs of his goatee there before her. She reached up an almost hesitant hand and drew the soft strands of it through her fingertips. He looked at her then, intensely, openly, drawing her eyes to meet with his.

"I'm sorry I—" she whispered.

"There is no need for apology," he told her, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

"I've caused you trouble," she finished.

He moved one arm from around her, and gently raised his hand to her face, to carefully wipe away the remains of her tears from her cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch, beginning to fall in toward the spiral inside of her belly.

"That one's trouble would have found me anyway," he said, "Do not blame yourse—"

She leaned up quickly and stopped his words with a slightly hesitant brush of her lips against his, beginning to draw away in the next moment, but he followed her, his own lips parting slightly as they met with hers again, his teeth gently grazing her lower lip. She moaned and tightened her arms around him as he slipped his fingers into her hair, his thumb still stroking against her cheek. Her lips parted under his as the kiss they shared deepened, as she tasted the sweet warmth of his mouth.

Her heart beat as though it would burst and the spiralling ache inside of her grew and tightened. The moment stretched away into what seemed like an eternity of nothing but the scent of him, the taste of him… and left her breathless when, at last, he pulled away.

He let out a growling breath that nipped at the heels of the retreating spiral of need in her belly.

"You should rest," he told her.

"Okay, but—" she glanced around them a little.

"Not here," he said, and suddenly shifted her in his arms, and effortlessly lifted her against his chest as he got to his feet. She lowered her head to rest on his shoulder as he carried her into his private chambers.

**

**

Todd breathed out slowly, his chin still resting against the top of Vega's head, her head pillowed against his chest. She was peaceful now, resting properly, and he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since she had. Such a complicated situation; such a complex woman, his curiosity had courted this and he found it only fuelled by these developments. The kiss had been a maddening frustration in his intentions only to comfort her.

He would not take from her more than she was consciously willing to give and, while she had not protested or resisted his advances, that had been in the wake of her terrible trauma at being pinned at the hands of the Hive Commander.

What, he wondered, were her fears concerning being restrained? He knew she had them, remembered from before, when he had needed to administer his cure for her suffering the effects of her body's inability to absorb the Hoffan protein, that she had refused to allow him to restrain her even though he had told her the pain would be great.

Idly he ran his fingers along her arm, which rested across his body, toward her shoulder and another sigh escaped him. Would it have been so terrible to have exposed himself to the vulnerability of complying with her request?

He set her down against the soft surface of the bed, and began to slide his arms from around her. She looked up at him, a slight pout on her lips.

"Stay," she whispered, "Please… hold me."

With a raised eyebrow he looked down at himself, then back at her and saw the flush of colour that spread upward over her uncovered skin. He had every intention of holding her, but he needed to be free of his coat, before he returned to settle at her side and offered himself as a place to pillow her head. She hesitated only slightly before she nestled into his side and rested her head against his shoulder.

The scent of her hair, clean and almost floral, washed over him, but under it he detected the muted bite of her arousal at the kiss. He took in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow growl as his senses began to respond to the mix of emotions.

"Todd?" she called his name softly, and he looked down to see her watching him.

"It is nothing," he said softly, and looked away again, "rest."

She reached up and with a light press of her fingers against his cheek turned his face back toward her.

"It isn't 'nothing.' You growled. Tell me," she insisted.

"Growled?" he couldn't help teasing. He knew exactly what she meant.

"Yes, you know. That little rumbling thing you do when you breathe out." She leaned up on one elbow; he assumed the better to see him. "Now tell me."

His answer had been a non-verbal one. He reached to slide his fingers into her hair and draw her closer to him again; to once more find her lips with his. The heady scent of her suddenly exploded inside him as their lips pressed close, as his teeth nipped against the tender, swollen flesh and at her almost timid request for more as her tongue barely brushed against his. Then she moaned, a deep primal sound, as he answered and deepened the kiss still further.

She tasted of sweet, fruit sugars and crisp legumes, she tasted of hidden dangers, she tasted of the promise of life… He growled and pulled away.

She swallowed, and began to lie back, trying to draw him with her, he knew, from the pressure of her hands on his arms, but he caught her and drew her down against his chest.

"No," he said softly. "Not in the wake of what has happened."

He felt her take a shuddering breath, but then she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Rest, Alicia," he said, drawing out the words, and pushing just slightly with his mind at the edges of hers. "I will still be here when you wake."

~when you wake~ ~wake~ ~wake~

He reached to draw the cover over her a little more, and was about to settle himself, to try and rest a little more beside her, when he noticed a regular blinking light on the communication device that provided him with a constant link to his own ship.

Moving slowly so as not to waken Alicia, he slipped from beneath her, moving his pillow to support her head, and then padded across the room to take the device into his hands and to read the incoming message his crew had sent on to him.

His nostrils flared in irritation as he saw the words scrolling across the screen.

"Sheppard," he growled softly.